m :M.^^&M^i^f, wmmm ^-»>4#^^'.SL^gJH' LIBRARY OF UNIVERSITY CALIFORNIA ANGELES THE MARCH OF FATE THE MARCH OF FATE. a novel BY B. L. FAEJEON, AUTHOR OP •' GREAT PORTER SQUARE," " TOILERS OF BABYLON,'' "A YOUN(x GIRL'S LIFE," "THE MYSTERY OF M. FELIX," &c. IiV THEEE VOLUMES. VOL. I. LONDON : F. V. WHITE & CO., 31, SOUTHAMPTON STREET, STRAND, W.C. 1893. PRINTED BY KELLY AND CO. LIMITED, GATE STREET, LINCOLN'S INN FIELDS, W.C, AND KINGSTON-ON-THAMES. I/. / CONTENTS ZTbe ifirst Xinft— Supplied b^ Clbx, /llMlltnoton of Sbepber^'s JSusb. CHAP. PAGE I. — An Invitation to Chudleigh . . 1 II. — Miss Haldane's Birthday ... 9 III. — A Dinner and an Interruption . . 22 IV. — The Story of Honoria ... 31 V. — Kachel Diprose .... 46 VI. — The Lake of Lilies .... 59 VII. — Off to London ..... 74 VIII. — Simpson is Inquisitive ... 90 IX. — Mr. Haldane Explains Himself . 104 X. — Honoria Disappears . . . 119 XI. — Simpson Perseveres .... 131 Ube Secoii& Xlnl?— Supplied b^ /IDr. Barlow, private Jnquir^, Surrey? Street. M.C. Cn.\P. PAGE XIL— Ml!. Barlow 145 XIIL— An Old (Story 160 XIV. — Betrayed ...... 174 XV. — Mr. Barlow at AVork .... 186 XVI. — Adeline Ducroz's Diap.v . . . 191 XVIL— The Diary Continued . . . .207 THE MARCH OF FATE THE MARCH OF FATE. Ube 3f irst Xiuf;— SupplieO b^ /iDr. /IIMllinaton of Sbepberb's 3Bu6b. CHAPTER I. AN INVITATION TO CHUDLEIGH. It is now four years since I received a note from Mr. Haldane, of Manor Hall, Chudleigh Park, requesting me to call upon him on a little matter of business. Under ordinary- circumstances my reply would have been that I had given up business, and that I regretted I could not tear myself away from my garden and birds, and my pipe and news- paper, of all of which I am particularly fond, but I had special reasons for reading his note twice over before deciding what to do about it. And having^ read the letter a VOL. I. 1 2 THE MARCH OF FATE. second time I put it in my pocket, and stepped into m}^ garden in a brown study. When a man is in a brown study, a pipe assists him, so I lit mine ; and motion assists him, so I paced the nicely gravelled paths, up one side and down the other, revolving the subject in my mind without arriving at a definite conclusion. It was my lark which brought me to a full stop. As a rule the notes of an imprisoned lark are apt to become a trifle shrill, but this is not the case with my bird, whose trilling is remarkably soft and dulcet. I suppose it is mere sentiment for me to say that I could never bring myself to eat larks in a pie, or roasted before the fire, which I regard as barbarism. Big birds I like, but these tiny creatures, which in my mind are associated with blue clouds and flowers and summer days, should be allowed to go free to gladden the world with their harmony. You will see by this remark that I preach what I do not practise ; otherwise I should open the cage of my lark, whose outdoor life is passed just AN INVITATION TO CHUDLEIGH. 3 below my bedroom window, and who wakes me in the morning to remind me that the most beautiful part of the day is waiting for me. It is a summons not to be neglected, so up I get and work in the garden till George, or the little maid in our service, comes and tells me that breakfast is ready. Well, as I was saying, when I went into the garden the lark was piping away most industriously, and it continued to pipe as I trod the new gravel down. Suddenly it stopped, and the silence that ensued was so surprising that I stopped too, and my brown study came to an end ; and at that very moment George walked out of the house and joined me. " Hallo, George," said I. "Hallo, father," said he. Let me set things clear about mj^self and him — as to what kind of persons we are, I mean. As a young man I started upon the active duties of life in the service of Her Gracious Majesty ; enamoured of red coats and drums 4 THE MAKCH OF FATE. I enlisted for a soldier, and being wounded in one of our little wars in Africa was sent home invalided, unfit for further service. Then I became associated with an old friend, who kept a private enquiry office. It luckily happened about that time that a small legacy fell to me, and my friend proposed that I should invest it in his business and become a partner. I agreed, and we were so successful that I retired at the end of sixteen years with an income sufficient for my wants. The business is still carried on by my partner in his own name. Barlow, with a Co. tacked to it. My name, Millington, was never used in the concern. When I sailed from England for Africa I left a wife and child behind me, and when I returned my wife was dead, which was a severe blow, for she was a good creature, and we loved each other. But George was spared, and a great blessing the young fellow has been to me. He is a working carpenter, sober, steady, and loyal. A year or so before I received Mr. Haldane's note my lad was sent down to AN INVITATION TO CHUDLEIGH. 5 Manor Hall, Cliudleigh Park, to assist in some alterations there. He was away three months, and he came back mad in love with a maid in the service of Mr. Haldane's only daughter. Miss Agnes Haldane. What had passed between George and pretty Eachel Diprose I did not exactly know, but I had an uncomfortable suspicion that the girl was playing fast and loose with him, as girls often do with straightforward men like my lad. They corresponded, letters passing between them about once a week, and one reason, I think, why I was suspicious of Eachel Diprose was that she wrote too good a hand for a lady's maid. It is an odd confession, but I should have been better pleased if she had written more like a servant who had received an imperfect education. I had, as was to be expected, a great desire to see the girl who, if my boy's hopes were to be realised, was to become my daughter-in- law, but she had no friends in London, and had, in fact, never been in the city. Conse- quently there was no house in which she 6 THE MAECH OF FATE. could step except at an inn or a lodging- house, which would not be proper for a single young girl. It would not do to ask her to stop in mine, there being no elderly female to look after her, and George sleeping in it — though, for the matter of that, he could have got a room elsewhere ; but I decided that it would not do. Nor would it look well for me to go expressly to Chudleigh Park to take observations of Eachel Diprose. She might think I was come to spy upon her, for the purpose of seeing if she was good enough for my lad, and this was a proceeding which any girl of spirit would resent. That is how the matter stood when George joined me in the garden. "I've got something to tell you, old man," I said. " Fire away, father," he said. " I have received a letter from Chudleigh Park," I said. " Not from Eachel ! " he cried. " No, not from her. What should she have to write to me about ? It's from Mr. AN INVITATION TO CHUDLEIGH. 7 Haldane. He wants to see me, and I've half a mind to go. It would give me an oppor- tunity of seeing Rachel." "I should like you to see her," said George. "Of course you would. I had some ac- quaintance with Mr. Haldane when I was partner in Barlow & Co. But it's not so much for his sake as for yours that I am inclined to go to Chudleigh Park." " It is very good of you, father. Yes, go." " George," said I, " when do you think of getting married ? " " I can"t get Eachel to name the day," replied George. " She declares she will never marry till her young mistress is happily settled." '• Isn't that rather hard on you ? " " I should have preferred it the other way, but I love her all the more for her faithful- ness to Miss Haldane. It isn't a bad quahty, is it, dad ? " "It is a very fine quahty. Perhaps you can tell me whether there is any Hkeli- 8 THE MAKCfl OF FATE. hood of Miss Haldane being soon happily settled ? " " I don't quite know," said George, rue- fully. " Things seem a bit muddled. I've got an idea that Mr. Haldane wants his daughter to marry a gentleman she doesn't care for." " That's bad. Has she set her heart on someone else ? " George pursed his li]), and I did not press the point. " I shall start for Chudleigh Park to-morrow." " All right, father. Give Eachel my love, and say I'm longing to see her. 0, I may as well tell you that there's to be fine doings in the park to-morrow. It's Miss Haldane's birthday, and there'll be games and prizes, and cake and tea for the people in the village. You wiU be there in time for all the fun of the fair." CHAPTER 11. MISS haldane's eirthday. It would be difficult to find in all Buckinfr- hamsliire a more picturesque estate than Cliudleigh Park. I haven't the gift of describing scenery well, men and women being more in my way, but you may be able to draw the picture for yourself out of the following bald material. An enclosed park of a hundred acres or so, at the principal gate of which is the keeper's lodge, an ivy- covered cottage twinkling with diamonded windows. There are footpaths in all directions, and a broad carriage-road leads to the doors of the old Manor House, which is built in the Tudor style. The spaces of grass and velvet moss are wonderfuUy well kept, not the least sign of litter or disorder meeting the eye whichever w^ay it turns. Upland and lowland are dotted with fine old 10 THE MAECH OF FATE. oaks, and on the east side of the park, where it joins Chudleigh Woods, is a broad lake covered with hlies. Midway across this lake a rustic bridge saves you the trouble of walking to either end, and the moment you are on the other side you plunge into the tangles of a lovely English forest. It is of vast extent, stretching for miles ; there are acres of foreign ferns, and acres of wild flowers, and it would be hard to say at which period of the year the woods are most beautiful. I think 1 have said enough to show that Chudleigh Park is a place in which Nature seems to invite a man to happiness. But black care finds its way into palaces as well as into hovels, and I am not at all sure with respect to this visitor, whether the poor man's abode hasn't the best of it. I had written to Mr. Haldane to say that I was coming down to Chudleigh Park, but as I did not mention the time or day of my arrival I felt myself free for a few hours when I reached the village. This enabled MISS HALDANE'S BIRTHDAY. 11 me to view the festivities in which the inhabitants were indulging. It was a declared holiday all over the place, and I found myself in the midst of the familiar features of a country fair. Eather a second- hand exhibition, but there was no lack of fun. Some caravans had come, and were doing good businesj. The outside shows, of course, were the main attraction. There were the fat woman and the man skeleton, and the coil of deadly cobras ; there were clowns, and dwarfs, and giants, and acrobats ; and there was a tamer of wild beasts, with his foot on a tiger, holding two lions by the throat, and glaring at a dozen others, who, but for his eagle eye, would have torn him to pieces. In the park the entertainments were of a better quality. A cricket match was being played, serious and comic races were to be run, the school children were to sing and recite, and there were prizes for everybody it seemed, in money and books and articles for home use and decoration. Very old and very young people were especially catered 12 THE MARCH OF FATE. for. The velvet spaces of the beautiful park were gay with flags and carriages and music. Some creditable waxworks were being ex- hibited ; there were two capital Punch and Judy shows ; here a conjuror, surrounded by a delighted crowd, was displaying his skill, and at a little distance was a tent in which a fortune-teller revealed the past and foretold the future. I had not long been in Chudleigh Park before I learned that Mr. Haldane was not merely a rich gentleman living in private splendour upon his income ; he was more king than master of the vast estate, and he was spoken of as a proud and haughty gentleman, as one who was feared rather than loved. What, then, was the secret of this open-hearted holiday-making, in which a sympathetic desire to make those beneath him happy was so conspicuous? I soon discovered that the credit belonged to his daughter Agnes. Wherever I went I heard nothing but praise of Miss Haldane's sweet- ness and goodness, and it was something in favour of Eachel Diprose that she should be MISS HALDANE'S BIRTHDAY. 13 SO firmly attached to a mistress for whom every one liad a good word. " Bless her sweet face ! " said an old woman. " She's an angel from heaven ! " And she recounted a story of kind deeds which made my heart warm as I listened. Her story was followed by others from those who had received kindnesses at Miss Haldane's hands. Generally in such scenes there is to be detected an element of dissent or discontent from some carper, a discordant note which mars the harmony, but it was not so here : the affection expressed for the young lady at the Manor House was perfect and sincere. This set me thinkim?. Hitherto I had felt no curiosity concerning the unrevealed matter of business upon which I had been summoned to Chudleigh Park, and I had assented to Mr. Haldane's request to see me for the sole reason that I desired to make the acquaintance of Eachel Diprose and judge for myself, whether she was a girl likely to make my son happy. But now my attention 14 THE MARCH OF FATE. wandered from lier to the master of the estate. I had become interested in his daughter, and should be glad of an opportu- nity to serve her. Why this thought should obtrude itself in connection with my mission, the particulars of which I had yet to learn, I may be permitted to explain. Mr. Haldane had requested me to call upon him on a little matter of business. Well and good ; that sounded innocent enough, and as if there was not much in it. But I knew better ; my experience had taught me that there must be a great deal in it. Mr. Haldane wished to see me, and had selected me as his agent, because of my previous connection with a private inquiry office which had already executed some com- misions for him. Now, when a gentleman foes to such a source for assistance, the matter he discloses is in every instance a matter w^hich he is anxious to keep from public knowledge, and in nearly every instance wdiich he wishes to keep from the knowledge of his family. What concerns MISS HALDANE'S BIRTHDAY. 15 the gentleman directly concerns his imme- diate family indirectly ; if he fears exposure, be sure there is some disgrace attaching to it, and disgrace to him means disgrace to them. Why, there are numbers of offices in London which are filled with ghosts and skeletons. You enter one and see neatly arranged on shelves a number of tin boxes, each securely locked, and each with a name or mark upon it, denoting to whom it belongs. The place you stand in is a sepulchre. The boxes, smothered with dust, upon which you gaze, are coffins in which ugly skeletons are buried. Open one and up the mystery jumps and stares you in the face, shocking your sensi- bilities and causing you to raise your hands in amazement at the revelation. What! Your old friend who poses before the world as the pink of morality, as a man of stainless character and honour, a philanthropist, perhaps, or a statesman, or a teacher of morals, whose homilies upon conscience jsdify the public — is it possible that he could have been guilty of this foul wrong ? Quite 16 THE MARCH OF FATE. possible, my friend. Do not be too curious to pry into the hidden life of the man or woman in whose society you delight, and whose presence in your home gives pleasure to you and your wife and children. Turn your eyes inwards, and let sleeping dogs lie. Well, then, I argued this way. Mr. Hal- dane had sought my services in a matter which, dragged before the public, would cause unhappiness to the young lady who seemed to be loved by everyone who knew her, and who was spoken of as an angel from heaven. Interested in her happiness was a young girl my son George worshipped. For his sake, for my own, for the sake of Rachel Diprose, and last, Ijut not least, for the sake of sweet Miss Haldane, I would undertake the task which Mr. Haldane had it in his mind to entrust to me. When Miss Haldane was happily settled Rachel would consent to make my George happy. It was clearly my duty, therefore, to do what I could towards Miss Haldane's happy settlement in life. A roundabout way of reasoning, I dare say, and MISS HALDANE'S BIKTHDAY. 17 founded upon mere conjecture. How far I was right or wrong will be seen as we go on. I had wandered out of the beaten paths during my musings, and now I wandered into them again, and mixed with the holiday folk. Hearing the voices of children singing I walked forward and stood on the outskirts of the circle of people who were listening to the pleasant performance. The school children were marshalled in order, and had just com- menced an original song composed by a local poet in honour of Miss Haldane. The children, who all had new frocks on, had been carefully drilled, and sang admirably ; and standing by himself was the local poet, with his hands clasped, listening to his verses in a state of agonised rapture, convinced, no doubt, that the eyes of the world were upon him. The song being ended, the little girl who sang the solo part was called up to the gentry, and a young lady presented her with a book. Who this young lady was was made clear to me by the local butcher calling out, " Three cheers for Miss Haldane," which were lustily and VOL. I. 2 18 THE MARCH OF FATE. heartily given without regard to the number. The village people waved hats and handker- chiefs, and would have cried themselves hoarse had not the fugleman, exhausted with his efforts, come to a sudden stop, whereat they foUowed suit. Partially recovering, the butcher demanded three cheers for Mr. Hal- dane, which also were given, with less hearti- ness, but still with some show of enthusiasm. Miss Haldane, who w^ore a dress of pure white, blushed prettily, and nodded with much sweetness, and turned to her father with smiles saying something to him, which, of course, at the distance I was from her, I could not hear. The most beautiful season of the year is spring, as it is the most beauti- ful season of life, and surely a sweeter ex- emplification of this was never seen than in the person of Miss Haldane. Her face was the loveliest I had ever beheld, and there was a quality of goodness in it which seemed to influence all surrounding things, and to invest them with something of her own charm of sweetness and tenderness. When she dis- MISS HALDANE'S BIRTHDAY. 19 missed the liappy child who had sung the solo, she called up the poet to receive his meed of praise and thanks. He behaved very sheepishly, and scarcely dared to touch the hand she held out to him, but the trying and triumphant ordeal was soon over, and he retired to dream of future fame and glory. At this moment, a man, who had approached me without my observing him, touched my arm. " You are a stranger here," he said. "Yes," I answered; "I only arrived to- day." " Mr. Haldane," said the man, " has sent me to enquire who you are." I took a card from my pocket, on which my name was printed, without my address, simply " Mr. Millington," and handing it to him, said that perhaps he would take it to Mr. Haldane. He looked at it, looked at me, and went awav, and I saw him mve the card to Mr. Haldane. Returning soon, the man said : " Mr. Haldane would like to speak to you." 2* 20 THE MARCH OF FATE. I followed him, and observed that Mr. Haldane was moving away from his com- panions, with the evident intention of speakingjprivately to me. Upon our coming together, the man who had conducted me stood a little apart. " I saw" you among the people," said Mr. Haldane, " and knew you were a stranger." " You have sharp eyes," I thought, but I said nothing to that effect, only that I had written to him that I was cominij to Chudleigh Park in compliance with his request. " I received your letter," he said, " but you did not inform me you were coming to-day." He paused a moment. " I cannot speak to you till to-morrow." " That will be convenient to me, sir," I said. He called to the man who had broui?ht me to him. " Simpson, see that this gentleman has a room somewhere in the village to-nio;ht." " Yes, sir," said Simpson. MISS HALDANE'S BIRTHDAY. 21 I was surprised at his reference to me as " this gentleman," but I set it down to his not wishing to make my name known. One thing leads to another, you see, and when you wish to keep things dark you cannot be too careful. But he could not keep my name from Simpson, who had seen it on my card. "That is all, I think," said Mr. Haldane. "I shall be disenfya2:ed to-morrow at twelve." " I will call upon you punctually, sir," I said. He nodded and walked away, but he had not gone a dozen yards, before he turned and beckoned to me. I went to him, Simpson stopping discreetly at a distance. " You need not say anything," he said, " about my sending for you." "No one shall know, sir," I said. He nodded again, and walked off, this time for good. CHAPTER III. A DINNER AND AN INTERRUPTION. Simpson sauntered towards me with a careless, unconcerned air, as though the idea of intro- ducing himself had just occurred to him. There is something in the manner and bearing of certain classes of men which at once betrays their calling. For instance, a jockey. Seeing one even for the first time, who could mistake him ? You look at his face, and you wonder how he feels off a horse. He is like a sailor walkins; along; macadamised roads after a long voyage. A butcher, too. It is impossible for him to disguise himself. In private life he is generally respectably dressed ; his clothes are remarkably new, and his boots and hats have a wonderful polish on them ; but you cast just one glance at him, and you see the inner man, in flannel apron, knife in hand, with a " buy, buy, buy ! " A DINNER AND AN INTERRUPTION. 23 expression on his features. The same with valets and body - servants. The nicely smoothed hair, the half-shding, half-confident motion of their bodies, the cut of their clothes, when they wear their own, the quietly observant eye, unmistakably proclaim their calling. It was Simpson's, as I correctly judged ; he was Mr. Haldane's valet, and it was not long before he volunteered the information, which was thrown out as a feeler, and as an invitation to a like confi- dence on my part. But I was on my guard ; my plan was to ask questions, and to answer as few as possible. So I fenced and parried, and Simpson made no demur which gave me rather a high opinion of his abilities. All tliis time you may be sure I had not forgotten Eachel Diprose, but I had seen no one resembling the portrait George had of her ; and it occurred to me that Simpson was the man to enlighten me as to what kind of girl she was. Upon my prompting he furnished me with an account of the domestics in Mr. Haldane's establishment, from the 24 THE MARCH OF FATE. housekeeper and butler downwards ; he told me theu^ several names, and I noticed, when he mentioned Rachel Diprose, that there was just that difference in his tone which denoted that she was a person who held a special place in his mind. I began to speculate whether Simpson was a married man. " The housekeeper and butler are married, I think you said ? " " Yes," he answered. " That must make it comfortable for them," I observed. " Good situations, everything provided, no butchers' bills to pay, and putting by a pound now and then for a rainy day." " They've nothing to complain of," said Simpson. " Some gentlemen," I said, " object to keeping married people in their employ, but Mr. Haldane is more liberal-minded." " That doesn't prove liberal-mindedness." " Perhaps not ; I'm speaking in a general way. Now, you " — and I cocked my eye knowingly and reflective^ at him — " I should A DINNER AND AN INTERRUPTION. 25 take you to be a married man, with a cliarm- ing wife and family." " Wrong. I'm a single man." " All the more agreeable for you," I said, shifting my ground. "There you are, a bachelor, with a lot of nice girls about him that he can pick and choose from. You must be in clover. There's pretty Eachel Diprose, now, a favourite with her young mistress, and 111 wager with a bit of money put by." He looked at me, seemed suddenly to remember something and instantly shut up. Which caused me to drift into other subjects. We had walked out of the park and into the village while we were conversing, and Simpson stopped before a public-house called "The Brindled Cow." " You can get a bed here," he said. " I'll make it all right with the landlord." " And perhaps," I said, " you won't mind taking a drink with me. I feel a little strange, being in a strange part of the country, and shall be glad of company. If ever you come 26 THE MARCH OF FATE. to London we might spend an evening to- gether." Had I thought twice I should not have thrown out the hint. He took it up quickly. "I'll drink with you with pleasure," he said ; " and I'll spend an evening with you in London when I've got one to spare. What's your address ? " I was fairly beaten, I own, and, without giving him offence, could not refuse to tell him where I lived. Then we went into the inn. The arrangement for a bed being made, I inquired what particular tipple my new friend preferred, and asked the landlord to join us. "Spirits just before going to bed," said Simpson, " beer in the morning, and port wine in the evening. That's my system. The landlord has a good bottle of port wine in his cellar." It being evening now, I called for the bottle of good port wine, in accordance with Simpson's system, and then, at his suggestion, A DINNEE AND AN INTEKEUPTION. 27 we adjourned to a small room in which there was a bag;atelle table, and befyan to drink and smoke and pla}^ I could have beaten him easily, but I allowed him to beat me, and as he pocketed the twopences for which we played I saw that losing was a winning game for me. I drove another nail in by remark- ing that I had had no dinner, and asking would he join me. Certainly he would, he replied ; it was all hurry-scurry up at the Hall ; and if I wanted to know what duck and green peas were like, the landlord of " The Brindled Cow " would show me. So the dinner was ordered, and we con- tinued to play bagatelle till it was ready. " You're a man after my own heart," said Simpson, as he polished off the choicest slices of the duck, and ladled down the green peas, which really were delicious. " I didn't take to you at first, but it shows how a, man may be mistaken. What's all that row about outside ? " The landlord, who had entered to at- tend to our wants, replied that Miss 28 THE MAECH OF FATE. Haldane had come from the park to the village, to see how the people were enjoying themselves ; but the sounds we heard were the reverse of festive. A woman's shrill voice and excited murmurs reached our ears. Simpson went to the window, and exclaimed : " By the Lord I It's that girl Honoria come back ! There's mischief brewing." And out he went, leaving, to my surprise, some dainty morsels on his plate. I hastened after him and, keeping close, pushed my way through a number of people gathered round two women, whom they hemmed in. One was a woman of middle age, and it was her shrill voice I had heard. She was standing over the form of another female, poorly dressed, whose crouching attitude prevented me from seeing her features. "Here she is, the slut!" cried the angry woman. " Here she is, come back with her shame and her brazen face ! She commenced young enough, didn't she ? But young as she is, she's old enough for sin. Have you A DINxNER AND AN INTERRUPTION. 29 brought a baby with you, you huzzy, or have you dropped it in the water ? Where are my earrings and brooch you stole before you ran away, jo\i thief, you ? Isn't there a pohceman here to take the drab into custody ? I'll drag her to prison with my own hands if no one '11 help me ! " Thus she went on, screaming at the top of her voice, and had it not been for me would have laid violent hands upon the frightened creature she was reviling; and accusino-. She paused to recover her breath, and as she did so some person said : " 'Sh ! Miss Haldane is coming." There was a sudden stillness, and the ranks opened for the young lady to pass through. She came close to the accuser and the accused, and, stooping, placed her hand upon the shoulder of the crouching figure. At this touch the woman raised her head, and seeing who was by her side, clutched Miss Haldane's dress convulsively, as if for protection from the enemies who surrounded her. The up- raised face was wild, and full of anguish and 30 THE MAECH OF FATE. terror, but it was scarcely less beautiful than that of her saviour. " Oh, Honoria, Honoria ! " murmured Miss Haldane, and she knelt and drew the face of the unfortunate girl to her breast. There was a heavenly pity in her ej^es, a world of tenderness in her voice. An angel from Heaven, indeed, was this sweet girl. ^MimMU- CHAPTER IV. THE STORY OF HONORIA. A FEW minutes later I was standing by the window of the room in which Simpson and I had but partly dined. There was no person in the room but myself, and I could have been more sociably employed had I descended to the bar of " The Brindled Cow " and mixed with my fellow man. But there were draw- backs to this course. My fellow man, as he w^as now represented in the bar of the inn, was distinctly noisy and unruly, having drunk more than was good for him, and I objected to his company in that condition. Therefore I was consulting my inclination in avoiding him, and I was lonely from choice. What had occurred with respect to the incident referred to at the end of the last chapter was this : 32 THE MARCH OF FATE. When Miss Haldane drew the face of Honoria to her breast, shielding her, as it were, from the fury of the woman who was accusing her, she looked up at the people who surrounded them. JN^ot one in the crowd spoke a word, and the only sounds that were heard proceeded from the sobbing girl who lay in the arms of her protector. Presently Miss Haldane, whispering something in Honoria's ear, rose, holding Honoria's hand, who rose with her. The expression on Miss Haldane's face, as she looked around, was one of reproach and pity. Honoria's head was sunk low upon her bosom, and she did not once lift it. Miss Haldane's silent appeal to the villagers caused them to fall ajoart, and a free passage was opened for the two girls, who passed through it slowly and in silence. They walked through the narrow street in the direction of the park, and in a few moments were out of sight. Only one person followed them, walking some distance behind. This person was Simpson, for whose return I was awaiting with a natural curiosity to hear THE STOEY OF HONORIA. 33 the story which I knew must be attached to the siiiGfular and exciting^ incident. It was an hour before Simpson rejoined me, and he came into the room briskly. There was satisfaction in his eyes as he observed that the cloth was still on the table. " That's all over," he said, " and now I suppose M^e can finish our dinner," "Yes," I said. "I ordered them to keep the sweets hot, but the duck must be cold by this time." " Cold duck is delicious," said the voracious Simpson. " Let's have it up." What remained of the duck was brought up, and Simpson was mainly instrumental in polishing it off. Then we had the sweets, then the cheese and watercress, and the bottle of port being finished, I called for another. It had the effect of making Simpson meUow — and communicative. " That was a curious scene," he remarked. " It was," I said. " Miss Haldane has a kind heart." "A lady may go too far though," he VOL. I. '6 34 THE MAECH OF FATE. observed. "I can understand people with third-class tickets trying to get into first-class carriages, but I am hanged if I can understand the other way of things." "There can be no doubt," I said, "that Miss Haldane is first-class, and the girl with the strange name third." " It is a strange name," said Simpson ; " all very well for a lady, but it's handicapping a common girl too heavily, likely to turn her head, you know." " She beloni^s to the viUacre," I hazarded. " In a sort of fashion. She hved here long enoug;h." " Her parents must be dreadfully cut up." " She hasn't any. A fine- looking girl, MiUington," said Simpson, becoming famihar, which I set down to the wine. " I just caught a gUmpse of her." Half-a- dozen of " The Brindled Cow's " best cigars were brought in, at my order. " Do you smoke ? " " Every gentleman smokes. Thank you. As I said, a fine-looking girl. A saucy face THE STORY OF HONORIA. 35 — and such eyes ! A different kind of beauty from Miss Haldane's, but some prefer one sort, some another. I Hke 'em dapperer and trimmer, not so brunettj'." "Is there any truth in the accusation the woman brought against her ? " " There's no saying. She might have taken the brooch and earrings, then again she mightn't. She was fond of finery, and that tells against her. There's no fear of her being put in prison ; she's lucky in having a lady like Miss Haldane on her side. If it was her father, it would be another pair of shoes. He'd give her three months and take a pleasure in it. Would you like to hear the story ? " " These stories are always interesting," I said ; " doubly so when they are told over a friendly glass." " There's a mystery about her birth," said Simpson, who was in the humour to hear himself talk. " Seven miles from here lies the village of Bittern, a quarter the size of this. Seventeen or eighteen years ago a 3* 36 THE MARCH OF FATE. woman comes from somewliere, and takes a cottage there. Four shillings a week she pays for it ; three rooms, bedroom, parlour, and kitchen. She brings with her a baby, this same Honoria. No one knows anything about the woman, and it is supposed that the child is her own. How does she pay her way ? She receives every Tuesday morning a post- office order for eighteen shillings, which leaves her fourteen shillings a week to live on, after paying her rent. With only a baby to keep she can manage very well upon that. After a while it comes to be understood that Honoria is not her own child, and that she is taking care of her for somebody. It is nobody's business, and nobody has anything to say about it ; and so the woman and child live in the cottage till Honoria is seven years old. Before she gets to that age it is noticed that the eighteen shillings a week does not come as regularly as it used to. How that gets to be known is through the baker, who keeps the post-office, and who cashes the post- office orders the woman receives. A vear THE STORY OF HONORIA. 37 later, when Honoria is eight, something of more importance occurs. The woman dis- appears and Honoiia is left to take care of herself. She is too young to do that, and so she becomes a waif and stray, picking up a bit of grub here, and a bit of grub there, and sleeping anywhere and everywhere. When the woman disappears she is in arrears for rent, and her few bits of sticks are sold to settle arrears ; then the cottage is let to somebody else, and Honoria is thrown pretty well stark naked on the world. There's no saying what would have become of her if it hadn't been for Miss Haldane, who was no older than Honoria at the time, but who, riding through Bittern, sees a little child sitting by a hedge, sobbing her heart out. Down my young lady insists upon getting, and she goes up to Honoria, just as she did outside an hour ago, and sits down by her side, and gives her some sweets, and winds up by bringing Honoria into the carriage and riding back with her here to Chudleigh. If Miss Haldane had been ridinsj with her father 38 THE MARCH OF FATE. this wouldn't have happened, because he's not given to noticing poor people, but there was only the nurse in the carriage with my young lady, and so she had her way. Now / come into the story. Mr. Haldane sends for me, and says that his daughter has brought some wretched child into the village, and asks me to find out who she is. That is how I got the particulars I've just told you of. While I was gathering them Ilonoria is kept with the servants at the Hall, and Miss Haldane insists upon looking after her, and does all sorts of absurd things. If she had been allowed to have her own way entirely Honoria would have slept with her, but they put a stopi)er to that. Mr. Haldane, I think, saw Honoria once, but I am not sure about that, and it isn't of any consequence. I came back with my report, and Mr. Haldane said that Honoria couldn't remain at the Hall, and that I'd better find some woman in the village, who, for two or three shillings a week, would take care of the child. That wasn't a difficult matter, and Honoria goes to live with Mrs. THE STORY OF HO^'ORIA. 39 Porter, tlie woman who says she's been robbed of her brooch and earrinii what is coming unless you keep the promise you made me." "Is that all you have to say?" he asked, flicking the ash off his cigar. " What more can I say, Austin ? " " I can't suggest. You have already said too much." " There is one thinw I could do if vou abandon me." " What is it ? " " Expose you." He laughed. " Who would believe you ? Who would take the word of a thief and a wanton against that of a gentleman ? There have been plenty of these trumped - up charges ; look them up, and see who has THE LAKE OF LILIES. 69 come off best. You would but expose your own sliame, my lady. Now, just look here. Dare to threaten me again, and I'll set the police on you. Be reasonable, and I'll help you on a bit, as I would help a stranger. Here's a sovereign ; 3^ou can get back to London with it : and then, never let me hear of you again. You can't say now that I'm hard on you." He held out a sovereign to her, but she did not take it. " Is that all you will do ? " she asked. " Oh ! " he said, " do you want more ? " " It is not money I mean." " I can't think of anything else. Will you be sensible, and take a couple of sovereigns ? " " No." " Then I have nothing more to say. Good- night." He turned on his heel, and walked leisurely away, giving her time to call him back. But she spoke no word, and presently he was out of sig;ht and hearing. 70 THE MARCH OF FATE. My whole attention was now centred upon Honoria. I felt that if I suddenly presented myself I should frustrate the object I had in view. Honoria would know that I had been eavesdropping, and that the true story of her shame was no longer a secret. The chances were, in her state of mind, that she would repulse me and fly from me ; and even if I succeeded in detaining her she would look upon me with suspicion, and regard me as an enemy instead as a friend. My purpose was to win her confidence, and this would scarcely be possible if I showed that I wavS fully acquainted with her sad position. Therefore, I determined to wait patiently until she removed from the spot, and afforded me a more favourable opportunity of intro- ducing myself. For quite a quarter of an hour she did not move from her seat. I was prepared for an exhibition of grief and despair, but not a sound escaped her. She sat perfectly still, with her hands clasped before her, her manner that of one whose mind was a blank. THE LAKE OF LILIES. 71 Some light sound from bird or animal aroused her. With a frightened look, her nerves being in the condition to construe threateningly any indication of life that reached her senses, she rose to her feet, and, as though she had been ordered from the spot by a voice of authority, moved away. In which direction ? That of the rustic bridge which spanned the lake. From the park there was a road to the railway station, from which a train for London would leave at twelve o'clock. 1 looked at my watch ; it was a quarter to eleven. There was plenty of time for Honoria to get to the station in time to catch this last train. Perhaps that was her intention, her errand to Chudleis^h liavino' failed. Then I thought that Miss Ilaldane had told me Honoria was penniless, but, after all, it might not be the case. Doubtless she had money enough to take her to London, and if she had not, I could supply her with more than was needful. I pitied the girl sincerely, and heartily despised her betrayer, but I had not made up my mind as to her character. 72 THE ilAECH OF FATE. I followed her noiselessly to the lake, deter- mined to wait till she was near the station before I accosted her. At the lake she paused in thought for so long a time that I began to get anxious. Once she turned her head hurriedly in my direction, and it was only by a rapid and silent move- ment that I escaped being seen by her. Then she walked slowly on to the bridge, and when she reached the centre, paused again and looked over into the lake. It was at this point that the water was deepest. There was now a light in the sky, and I saw distinctly every movement she made. Sitting down upon the floor of the wooden bridge she took from her pocket an envelope, and from that a sheet of notepaper, upon which she wrote some words. Replacing the sheet of paper in the envelope she returned it to her pocket, and then, with a sudden and quick motion she stood upright. The decision and rapidity of this movement inspired me with the fear that she was about to commit suicide. This indeed was her intention. Flinging up her THE LAKE OF LILIES. arms she stood for a moment in suspense, with the light shining upon her ; but before she could carry her desperate purpose into execution she was struggling in my arms. ^ \) m '^ CHAPTER VII. OFF TO LONDON. " Let me go, let me go ! " she cried. " In a moment," I said soothingly ; " we must get off this bridge first ; it is unsafe." Beset by fears, surrounded by enemies, she must have put the worst construction upon my unexpected appearance. I did all I could by kind and assuring words to set her mind at ease wdth respect to me, and when we were at a safe distance from the lake I said : " That rickety old bridge needs repairing. No wonder you felt dizzy as you were crossing it. I almost tumbled into the water myself. You are all right now are you not ? " Instead of answering my question she asked me another. " Where are you going to take me ? " " Nowhere," I replied with a smile, " except OFF TO LONDON. 75 you wish me to show you the way to any place. Though, for the matter of that, I don't promise to be of much use, as I am a stranger in the villas^e." " Don't you know me ? Have you never seen me before ? " I answered without the least hesitation or compunction, " Xo, I don't know you, I have never seen you before." A sigh of relief escaped her. " But now I look at you," I continued, " I shouldn't wonder if you are the girl I'm searching for."' Again the ex- pression on her face was one of fear, as that of a person who was being hunted down. *' Now, my dear — don't mind my calling you ray dear ; it's only in a fatherly way, and I want to be your friend if you'll let me — don't get wrong thoughts into your head. All I know about you, supposing you to be the person I'm looking for, is what Miss Haldane has told me, and it isn't likely that she would say anything about you that wasn't kind and good." " Miss Haldane ? " 76 THE MARCH Ob' FATE. "Yes, my dear, Miss Haldane, as sweet a young lady as ever drew breath. I happened to come down to-night upon a little matter of business, and Miss Haldane happening to see me, asked me to do her a service. It's the first time I've been in Chudleigh, and everybody and everything, except Miss Hal- dane, is new to me, and that perhaps is why she pressed me into her service. Of course I don't know it was her reason ; I'm only making a guess at it. There's a grand ball at the Manor House to-night, you know, and I'm not one of the guests, not being a gentleman. ' Mr. Millington ' — that is my name — ' Mr. Millington,' Miss Haldane says to me, ' there's a young friend of mine to whom I am afraid the servants in the Hall have behaved un- kindly. She is very sensitive, and has gone away, when I wanted her to remain. I wish 3^ou would go and find her, and do what you can to help her, and give her my love.' " " She said that ? " " She said that, my dear. ' And give her my love, and say that I am her friend, and OFF TO LONDON. 77 shall always be her friend. She hasn't many, poor girl.' Then she gave me a description of you, and told me your name was Honoria." " You are not deceiving me ? " " Look me in the face, and sav whether it's likely I would deceive a girl who might be my daughter, and base and mean enough to invent a story to lead her astray ? " '■ No," said Honoria, casting a timid glance at me, " you don't look like one of that sort." " I'm not one of that sort. If I were, Miss Haldane would not put trust in me. Then she says to me, ' Perhaps Honoria is in want of money,' and she empties her purse into my hand. ' Give her this, and ask her to come to me, or let me come to her, and if she will not, tell her to write to me.' " I took Honoria's hand in mine, and put into it the gold and silver which Miss Haldane had entrusted me with. She looked at the money w^ith eyes in which tears were rising. I hailed this softened mood with satisfac- tion ; it was the best of signs. " ' And mind,' says Miss Haldane, ' 3'ou're not to 78 . THE MARCH OF FATE. leave Honoria till you see lier comfortably provided for.' Then, having to dress for the ball, she sent me away to find you, and I don't for a moment doubt, if her duties had not kept her at the Hall, that she would, have come out with me to look for you. Well, my dear, it was rather a wild-goose chase I was engaged in, and I hardly knew which way to look. You weren't in the park, so far as I could see, and I went to the woods, and had given you up, for I saw no trace of you, and was coming back over the bridge when I caught sight of a figure crossing that rickety structure. I suppose you were alarmed, for you struggled to get away from me, and now, ni}^ dear, you know all it is in my power to tell you. I hope you believe me ? " " Yes," said Horonia, " I believe you." And now she burst into a passion of tears. To strenc^then her confidence in me, I turned my head, and waited till her passion was spent. Then I said : "The question is. What are we to do? I have only partly executed Miss Haldane's OFF TO LONDON. 79 commission. She won't be satisfied unless I finisli it. I've got to look after you, j'ou know." " I must ask you sometliinij first," said Honoria. "I'll answer anything you put to me." " You searched the woods for me, and didn't find me." " No, I did not find you, and I was greatly disappointed." " Did you see anyone there ? " " Not a soul. The place was as quiet and lonely as a churchyard. I don't mind con- fessing I was glad to get out of it." She wiped her eyes, and looked at me attentively. " Well," I said with a smile, " do you think you can trust me ? " " I must trust you," she replied, " there is no one else." " You must have shelter for the night. Shall we go to the village ? " " No," she said, shuddering ; " not there, not there ! " 80 THE MARCH OF FATE. " Perhaps you would like to get back to London ? " "Can I? It is so late!" " I have a time-table in my pocket." I consulted it. As I have said, there was a last night train for London, and there was, more- over, an early morning train from the city, which would enable me to get back to Chudleigh Park in time for my appointment with Mr. Haldane. I told Honoria of the late train. " I will take it," she said. " And I will go with you," I said. " There is no occasion. I can go alone." " My dear," I said, " you will allow me, as a father, to know what is best. I would not let a daughter of my own travel alone so late as this, and I shall not let you. Besides, I promised Miss Haldane to see you in safe shelter to-night, and I shall carry out her wishes." She yielded without remonstrance, and we stepped on towards the station. It suited her humour and mine that our way lay through OFF TO LONDON. 81 a bye-road, where we were not likely to meet with any of the villagers, but we had first to traverse a path from which I saw the lights in the Manor House shining^. We had a few minutes to spare, and I asked Honoria whether she would mind waiting for me alone while I ran to the Hall, my reason — with which I made her acquainted — being to endeavour to communicate to Miss Haldane the news of Honoria's safety. "It will relieve Miss Haldane's mind," I said. " She is very anxious about you, and the knowledge that I am taking care of you will contribute to her enjoyment to-night." " Yes, go," said Honoria. " You will not run away ? " I said. " I promise," she answered. " Shall I give any message to Miss Haldane from you ? " " Say that I am humbly grateful," replied Honoria, and added, after a struggle with herself, " and that I am unworthy of her kindness." " That, indeed, I shall not say," I remarked, VOL. L 6 82 THE MARCH OF FATE. and, leaving her in a secluded spot, I hastened to the Hall. Good fortune befriended me ; I saw Eachel, and she stepped aside with me. " Tell Miss Haldane," I said, " that I have found Honoria, and am going to London with her." " It will make her happy to hear it," said Rachel ; " she has been worrying about her. liut, oh, Mr. Millington, what a trouble for you ! " " Not at all, my dear," J said. " I would do much more than this to serve so sweet a lady." "Mr. Millington," said Eachel, "I am so glad that you are what you are, George was right." " He is not wrong about many things, my dear," I said. " Not about me ? " she asked, with a pretty archness. " Not at all about j^ou, my dear," I said, and I kissed the good girl, there being no one to see us. " I shall be back in Chudleigh to-morrow. Any word for George P " OFF TO LONDON. 83 "My love, Mr. Milliiigton." "I will give it him, Eachel." "Mv dear love," she said. " Yes, Rachel. Good-night, my dear." " Good-nicrht, Mr. MiUin^ton." I sped back to Honoria, with some slight misgivings as to whether I should find her ; but she was faithful to her promise, and we arrived at the station before the train was there. Honoria kept herself out of view of the station-master, and I succeeded in putting her in a third-class carriaa'e without her beinn; observed by any one who knew her.- There were very few^ travellers by the train, and we had a compartment to ourselves. It wg-s during an endeavour to open a conversation with the poor girl that I noticed signs of exhaustion in her. " You are faint," I said. " I am hungry." " How careless of me not to have thous^ht of it," I said, but I had no time to say more, for Honoria's eyes closed, and she sank back in a swoon. 84 THE MARCH OF FATE. I could do nothing to relieve her, not being provided with food or drink. As she lay before me I could not help seeing how beautiful she was. Her features were fault- less, and her dark hair and eyebrows, in contrast with her pallid face, added to her lovehness. A dangerous gift for a poor girl without parents or protector. My thoughts wandered to the man she called by the name of Austin, who was clearly her betrayer. I did not need to be told the story of the betrayal and the desertion ; it was not as he had said, a comedy, but he was right when he said that the world knew it by heart. Then I thought of Miss Haldane. She had no suspicion of Honoria's shame ; when she became acquainted with it, as one day she must, how would she act ? What a shock it would be to her pure heart to learn that Honoria had fallen so low ! And for Honoria hei self, what would be the end ? Too well did I divine the meaning of the words she had spoken to her betrayer : " You don't know what is before me — something that OFF TO LONDOX. .85 makes me 'tremble to think of. It would be better for me to be dead than to live throuoii what is coming unless you keep the promise you made me." Was this man, i\ustin, a friend of the Haldanes ? The assignation in Chudleicfh Woods with Honoria strensjthened the presumption that he was no stranger to the locality, and therefore *no stranger at the Manor House. Was he trusted by Miss Haldane ? Had he succeeded in concealimy his true character from her ? In these re- flections I saw all the materials for a pregnant drama of human life, although only one of its incidents had been, by accident, revealed to me. My business, however, was not with the future, but the present. The poor insensible girl needed practical assistance, and while the train was speeding on I could not render it to her. Luckily we stopped at a station ; un- luckily there was no refreshment bar there. But I made a friend of the guard. For a consideration he supplied me with a slice of bread and butter, part of his night's meal, 86 THE MARCH OF FATE. and water in a lemonade bottle. I moistened Honoria's lips with the water, and bathed her forehead with it. She opened her e3'es. " Drink," I said, " and eat this slice of bread. When we get to London you shall have something better." She thanked me Gjratefullv, and I managed to sustain her spirits till we arrived at our destination. I hailed a cab, and in- forming the driver of our needs, he took us to a coffee house, where a cup of hot coffee and some bread and meat put colour into Honoria's cheeks. I, also, being rather used up, was thankful for the refreshment. " Where to ? " asked the driver. Strangely, I had not thought of a place, and T asked Honoria whether there were any lod