THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 GIFT
 
 Anthony Hopk (Hawkins)
 
 ^;, Sport 
 
 I 
 
 Royal 
 
 ANTHONY 
 [i ' HOPE 
 
 H. M. CALDWELL CO., PUBLISHERS 
 NEW YORK AND BOSTON jt S
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 Sport Royal— 
 
 i. the sequel to the ball 
 ii. at the hotel magnifique 
 iii. the mission of the ruby 
 a tragedy in outline 
 a mal-a-propos parent 
 how they stopped the " run " 
 a little joke 
 
 a guardian of morality . 
 not a bad deal , , 
 
 middleton's model . . 
 
 my astral body . • 
 
 the nebraska loadstone . 
 a successful rehearsal • 
 
 Page 
 
 7 
 
 26 
 
 42 
 
 71 
 
 74 
 83 
 90 
 
 99 
 109 
 
 119 
 
 130 
 
 143 
 151 
 
 93976' 
 
 /«■'
 
 SPORT ROYAL. 
 
 AN EXTRACT FROM THE JOURNALS OF 
 JULIUS JASON, ESQUIRE. 
 
 CHAPTFR I. 
 
 THE SEQUEL TO THE BALL. 
 
 Heidelberg seems rather a tourist-ridden, 
 hackneyed sort of place to be the mother 
 of adventures. Nevertheless, it is there that 
 my story begins. I had been traveling on 
 the Continent, and came to Heidelberg to 
 pay my duty to the Castle, and recruit in 
 quiet after a spell of rather laborious idleness 
 at Homburg and Baden. At first sight, I 
 made up my mind that the place would bore 
 me, and I came down to dinner at the hotel, 
 looking forward only to a bad dinner and an 
 early bed. The room was so full that I could 
 not get a table to myself, and, seeing one 
 occupied only by a couple of gentlemanly- 
 looking men, I made for it, and took the third 
 
 [7\
 
 8 
 
 seat, facing one of the strangers, a short, fair 
 young man, with a little flaxen moustache 
 and a soldier-like air, and having the other, 
 who was older, dark, and clean-shaved, on 
 my left. The fourth seat was empty. 
 
 The two gentlemen returned my bow with 
 well-bred negligence, and I started on ni}- 
 soup. As I finished it, I looked up and 
 saw my companions interchanging glances. 
 Catching my eye, they both looked away in 
 an absent fashion, each the while takinsr out 
 of his pocket a red silk handkerchief and lay- 
 ing it on the table by him. I turned away 
 for a moment, then suddenly looked again 
 and found their eyes on me, and I fancied 
 that the next moment the eyes wandered 
 from me to the handkerchiefs. I happened 
 to be carrying a red handkerchief m3^self, 
 and, thinking either that something was in 
 the wind or perhaps that my friends were 
 having a joke at my expense (though, as I 
 said, they looked well-bred men), I took it 
 out of my pocket and, laying it on the table, 
 gazed calmly in fi'ont of me, my eyes natur- 
 ally falling on the fair young man. 
 
 He nodded significantly to the older man, 
 and held out his hand to me. I shook hands 
 with him, and went through the same cere- 
 mony with the other.
 
 " Ah !" said the young man, speaking in 
 French, " you got her letter?" 
 
 I nodded. 
 
 *' And you are wiUing?" 
 
 The first maxim for a would-be adventurer 
 is always to say " yes " to questions. A " no " 
 is fatal to further progress. 
 
 " Yes," I answered. 
 
 "It will be made worth your while, of 
 course," he went on. 
 
 I thought I ought to resent this sugges- 
 tion. 
 
 " Sir," I said, " 3'ou cannot possibly mean 
 to suggest — " 
 
 The young man laughed pleasantly. 
 
 " My dear fellow," he said, " ladies have 
 their own ways of paying debts. If you don't 
 like it — !" and he shrugged his.shoulders. 
 
 *' Oh," said I, smiling, " I misunderstood 
 you." 
 
 " It is, of course," said the old man, speak- 
 ing for the first time, and in a loud whisper, 
 "of vital importance that His Royal High- 
 ness's name should not appear." 
 
 This really began to be mysterious and 
 interesting. I nodded. 
 
 " That goes without saying," said the 
 young man. " And you'll be ready ?" 
 
 " Ready !" I said. " But when?" .
 
 lO 
 
 " Didn't I tell you ? Oh, six o'clock to 
 
 morrow morning-." 
 
 " That's early hours." 
 
 " Well, you must, you know," he answered. 
 
 " And," added the old man, " the Countess 
 hopes you'll come to breakfast afterwards at 
 ten." 
 
 " I'll be there, never fear," said I, " and it's 
 very kind." 
 
 " Bravo !" said the young man, clapping me 
 on the shoulder (for we had risen from the 
 table). " You take it the right way." 
 
 As may be supposed, I was rather puzzled 
 by this time, and decidedly vexed, to find I 
 should have to be up so early. Still, the 
 mention of His Roj^al Highness and the 
 Countess decided me to go on for the pres- 
 ent ; probably the real man — for unless it 
 were all a mad joke, there must be a real 
 man — would appear in the course of the 
 evening. I only hoped my new friends 
 would, in their turn, take it in the right way 
 when that happened. 
 
 " Have you a servajit with you ?" asked 
 the 3'oung man, as we said good-night. 
 
 " No," said I. " I am quite alone." 
 
 "You are a paragon of prudence," he 
 answered, smiling. " Well, I'll call you, and 
 we'll slip out quietly."
 
 II 
 
 Just as I was getting into bed, the waiter 
 knocked at my door and gave me a note. It 
 bore no address. 
 
 " Is it for me ?" I asked. 
 
 "Yes, sir," he answered. "You are the 
 gentleman who dined with Herr Vooght and 
 M. Dumergue?" 
 
 I supposed I was, and opened the note. 
 
 " You are generous and forgiving, indeed," 
 it said (and said it in English). ** What re- 
 ward will you claim ? But do be careful. 
 He is dangerous. — M." 
 
 '* The devil !" I exclaimed. 
 
 The next morning I was aroused at five 
 o'clock by my two friends. 
 
 " Good morning, Herr Vooght," said I, 
 looking just between them. 
 
 *' Good morning," answered the old man. 
 
 " Now, my dear fellow, come along. 
 There's a cup of coffee downstairs," said the 
 other, whom I took to be Dumergue. 
 
 After coffee we got into a close carriage 
 with a pair of horses, and drove two or three 
 miles into the country ; my companions said 
 little. Dumergue twice asked in a joking 
 way how I felt, and Vooght puzzled me very 
 much by remarking : 
 
 "They are bringing all the necessaries; 
 but I don't know what they will choose." ,
 
 When this was said, Dumergue was hum- 
 ming a tune. He went on for five minutes, 
 and then said, with a touch of scorn : 
 
 " My good Vooght, they know our friend's 
 reputation. They will choose pistols." 
 
 I could not repress a start. No doubt it 
 was stupid of me not to have caught the 
 meaning of this early expedition before, but 
 it really never struck me that our business 
 might be a duel. However, so it seemed, and 
 apparently I was one of the principals. 
 Dumergue noticed my little start. 
 , " What's the. matter?" he asked. 
 i ** Do they know my name ?" said I. 
 
 *' My dear friend, could you expect the 
 Baron to fight with an unknown man? The 
 challenge had to be in your name." 
 
 I had clearly been the challenger. I was 
 consumed with curiosity to know what the 
 grievance was, and how the Countess was 
 concerned in the matter. 
 
 " The Countess assured us," said Vooght, 
 ** that she had your authority." 
 
 *' As fully as if I had been there," I 
 answered, and Dumergue resumed his tune. 
 
 I was sincerely glad that the name of my 
 original had been given, for his reputation 
 for swordsmanship had evidently saved me 
 from a hole in my skin. I was a fair hand
 
 with a pistol ; but, like most of my country- 
 men, a mere bungler with a rapier. It was 
 very annoying, though, that my friends' ex- 
 aggerated prudence prevented them mention- 
 ing my name ; it would have been more con- 
 venient to know who I was. 
 
 I had not long for reflection, for we soon 
 drew up by a roadside inn, and, getting out 
 of the carriage, walked through the house, 
 where we were apparently expected, into a 
 field behind. There were three men walk- 
 ing up and down, and two of them at once 
 advanced to meet Vooght and Dumergue. 
 I remained where I was, merely raising my 
 hat, and the third man, a big, burly fellow 
 with a heavy black moustache, followed my 
 example. 
 
 This one, no doubt, was the Baron, To be 
 frank, he looked a brute, and I had very little 
 hesitation in assuming that the merits of the 
 quarrel must be on my side. I was com- 
 forted by this conclusion, as I had no desire 
 to shoot an unoffending person. Prelimin- 
 aries were soon concluded. I overheard 
 one of the Baron's representatives mention 
 the word apology, and add that they would 
 meet us half way, but Dumergue shook his 
 head decisively. This defiant attitude be-
 
 H 
 
 came Diimergue very well ; but I, for my 
 part, should have been open to reason. 
 
 The baron and I were placed opposite one 
 another at twelve paces. There were to be 
 two shots — unless, of course, one of us were 
 disabled at the first fire ; after that, the 
 seconds were to consider whether the matter 
 need go further. 
 
 The word was just about to be given, 
 when to my surprise the baron cried : 
 
 " Stop !" 
 I Every one looked at him in astonishment. 
 
 " Before we fire," he went on, " I wish to 
 ask this gentleman one question. No, I will 
 not be stopped." 
 
 His seconds, who had advanced, fell back 
 before his resolute gesture, and he continued, 
 addressing me : 
 
 " Sir, will you do the honor to answer one 
 question? Are you the person who accom- 
 panied — ?" 
 
 Vooght struck in quickly : 
 
 " No names, please !" 
 
 The baron bowed, and began again. 
 
 " On your honor, sir, are you the gentle- 
 man who accompanied the lady in question 
 to the masked ball on the night in question ?" 
 
 These gentlemen were all very diplomatic. 
 I thought I would be diplomatic too.
 
 15 
 
 " Surely this is grossly irregular ?" I said, 
 appealing to my supporters. 
 
 " I ask for an answer," said the baron. 
 
 " It's nothing but a new insult," said I. 
 
 *' I have my reasons, and those gentlemen 
 know them." 
 
 This was intolerable. 
 
 " You mean to fight or you don't, M. le 
 Baron," said I. " Which is it !" 
 
 He shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " Your master is well served," he said with 
 a sneer. 
 
 His seconds looked bewildered. Vooght 
 bit his nails, and Dumergue swore furiously 
 and, coming near me, whispered in my ear: 
 
 " Shoot straight ! Stop his cursed mouth 
 for him !" 
 
 I had not the least intention of killing the 
 baron, if I could avoid it without being 
 killed myself ; but I thought a slight lesson 
 would improve his manners, and, when the 
 word came, I fired with a careful aim. He 
 evidently meant mischief, for I heard his ball 
 whizz past my ear ; I missed him clean, being 
 much out of practise, and, 1 dare say, rather 
 nervous. I pulled myself together for the 
 second shot, for I saw that my opponent was 
 not to be trifled with, and I should not have 
 been the least surprised to find myself in
 
 i6 
 
 paradise the next moment. On the word I 
 fired ; the baron fell back with a cry, and 
 simultaneously I felt a tingle in my left hand 
 and the unmistakable warm ooze of blood. 
 The witnesses ran to my opponent, and raised 
 his head. Dumergue turned round to me. 
 
 " Are you hurt ?" 
 
 " A scratch," I answered, for I found the 
 ball had run up my arm, merely grazing me 
 in its passage. 
 
 A hurried consultation followed ; then 
 Vooght and Dumergue raised their hats and 
 joined me. 
 
 " We had best be off," said Vooght. 
 
 "Is he dead?" I asked. 
 
 " No," said Dumergue, with a little disap- 
 pointment, I thought. " He'll get over it ; 
 but he's safe for a week or two. Not a bad 
 shot. Colonel !" 
 
 So I was a colonel ! 
 
 " Now," said Vooght, " we'll drive back, 
 and send you to the Countess." 
 
 I had made up my mind to get away from 
 the place as soon as I could, but my curiosity 
 to see the causa belli was too strong, and I 
 said I should be delighted to keep my 
 engagement. 
 
 Dumergue smiled significantly, and Vooght 
 hurried us into the carriage. We drove back
 
 17 
 
 to the town, and then two or three miles into 
 the country again, till we came to a pretty 
 villa, embowered in trees, and standing some 
 two hundred yards back from the road. 
 There was no drive up to the house, a turf 
 walk forming the passage from the highway. 
 Vooght motioned me to get down. 
 
 " Don't you accompany me ?" I asked. 
 
 Dumergue smiled again. 
 
 " Oh, no," he said. " Come for us at the 
 hotel, and we'll all be off by the two o'clock 
 train." 
 
 " Unless you are detained," added Vooght. 
 
 " I shouldn't be detained, if I were you," 
 said Dumergue, drily. " Who knows? The 
 Baron may die." 
 
 I was quite determined not to be detained, 
 and said so. I was also quite determined not 
 to keep the rendezvous at the hotel, but to 
 slip away quietly by myself. The Colonel 
 might arrive at any moment. 
 
 I watched my friends drive off, and then 
 v/alked briskly up to the house. A man in 
 livery met me before I had time to ring. 
 
 " Are you the gentleman?" he asked. 
 
 I nodded. 
 
 " Will you be so kind, sir, as to walk 
 straight in ? That door. sir. The Countess 
 expects you."
 
 i8 
 
 I had my doubts about that, but I walked 
 in, shutting- the door swiftly behind me, lest 
 the servant should hear anything-. I thought 
 an explosion not improbable. 
 
 The room was dim, close curtains shutting 
 out the growing strength of the sunshine. 
 The air was thick with the scent of flowers 
 that overpowered without quite smothering 
 the appetizing smell rising from a table pro- 
 fusely spread for breakfast. I had entered 
 softly, and had time to take note of the sur- 
 roundings before I became aware of a tall, 
 slight figure in white, first moving impetu- 
 ously toward me, then stopping abruptly in 
 surprise. Presumably this was the Countess. 
 Charming as she was, with her open blue eyes, 
 fluffy golden hair, and fresh tints, I wondered 
 from what noble house she sprang. How- 
 ever, the fountains of honor are many, and 
 their streams meander sometimes throueh 
 very winding channels. 
 
 The Countess stood and looked at me. I 
 bowed and smiled. 
 
 " You are naturally surprised," I said, in 
 my smoothest tones. 
 
 " I was expecting — another gentleman." 
 " Yes, I know. I come in his place." 
 " In his place ?" she repeated, in incredu- 
 lous tones.
 
 19 
 
 ** Yes ; in the Colonel's place." 
 
 " Hush !" she exclaimed. " We needn't 
 mention names." 
 
 It suited me perfectly not to mention 
 names. 
 
 " I beg pardon," I murmured. 
 
 *' But how is it possible ?" she asked. " Do 
 you know what he was to come for?" 
 
 "Oh, yes." 
 
 "And he hasn't come?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 She frowned. 
 
 " Wouldn't he come?" 
 
 " He couldn't. So I came." 
 
 " But how did you know anything about 
 it ? Did he tell you about the Pr— about the 
 affair ?" 
 
 •* No. I only heard — " 
 - "From him?" 
 
 " Yes — that you wanted a champion." 
 
 " Oh, that's absurd ! Why, you never heard 
 of me !" 
 
 "Ah, indeed I have!" 
 
 "And — did you recognize me under my 
 new name? " 
 
 "Your— ?" 
 
 " My— my title. You know." 
 
 "The — he told me that. Must I confess? 
 I jumped at the chance of serving you."
 
 20 
 
 "You had never seen me !" 
 
 " Perhaps I had seen your photograph." 
 
 She smiled at this, but still looked per- 
 turbed. 
 
 *' Pray don't be Distressed, " said I. " I am 
 very discreet." 
 
 " Oh, 1 hope so. The Prince (she spoke in 
 a whisper) was so urgent about discretion. 
 You haven't seen him ?" 
 
 *• The Prince ? No." 
 
 ** And — when is it to be ?" 
 
 " I don't quite understand." 
 
 This was my first truthful remark. 
 
 "Why, the duel!" 
 
 " Oh, it's all over." 
 
 "Over!" 
 
 " Yes — two hours ago." 
 
 " And the Baron? No, forgive me. You! 
 Are you hurt?" 
 
 " Not a bit. He's hurt." 
 
 " Is he dead ?" she asked breathlessly. 
 
 "I'm very sorry, Countess. Not quite. 
 Was that necessary ? 
 
 "Oh, no. Though he deserved it. He 
 insulted me shamefully." 
 
 " Then he did deserve it." 
 
 She went off at a tangent. 
 
 " What became of my letter ?**
 
 21 
 
 "They gave it to me. You only said for 
 the gentleman who dined with your friends." 
 
 " Then you read it ?" she asked, blushing. 
 
 " Yes. How I wish "^ were the rightful 
 owner of it!" 
 
 " Why didn't he come?" she asked again. 
 
 '* He's going to write and explain." 
 
 " And you really came because — ?" 
 
 " May I tell you already ? Or have you 
 guessed already ?" 
 
 She blushed again. 
 
 " I don't see what else the Prince could do, 
 you know," she said. " He ought, of course, 
 never to have gone to the ball at all." 
 
 ** Perhaps not," I answered ; " but I sup- 
 pose he was tempted." 
 
 " Do you think very badly of me ?" 
 
 " I should think you perfection if — " 
 
 ".Well?" 
 
 " You would give me some breakfast." 
 
 "Oh, what a shame! You're starving! 
 And after all you have done ! Come, I'll 
 wait on you." 
 
 My meal was very pleasant. The lady was 
 charming ; she satisfied every feeling I had, 
 except curiosity. She was clearly English ; 
 equally clearly she was involved with some 
 great people on the Continent. I gathered 
 that the Baron had insulted her, when she
 
 22 
 
 was with the Prince, and the latter could not, 
 whether for state or domestic reasons, es- 
 pouse the quarrel. So far I got, but no 
 farther. 
 
 " What a debt I owe you!" she said, as 
 she led the way after breakfast to the top of 
 a little tower. An awning was spread over- 
 head, and armchairs on the floor. A cool 
 breeze blew and stirred her hair. 
 
 *' I am more than paid !" 
 
 " Fancy, if you had been hurt !" 
 
 ** Better I than the Colonel !" I suggested. 
 She darted a smile at me. 
 
 " Oh, well," she said, " you came, and he 
 didn't. I like you best." 
 
 It was all very charming, but time was 
 flying, and I began to plan a graceful exit. 
 
 "You make it hard to go," I said. 
 
 "Yes, I suppose we must go as soon as 
 possible. Herr Vooght said at two o'clock." 
 
 I was startled. Delightful as she was, I 
 hardly reckoned on her being one of the 
 party. 
 
 " The Prince will be so pleased to see 
 you," she went on. 
 
 " Will he?" 
 
 " Why, you will have my recommenda- 
 tion !" 
 
 ** I'm sure it must be all-powerful !'*
 
 23 
 
 " But we have two hours before we need 
 start. You must want to rest." 
 
 ** What a charming tower this is !" 
 
 " Yes, such a view. Look, we can see for 
 miles. Only I hate that stretch of dusty 
 road." 
 
 I looked carelessly toward the road, along 
 which we had come. 
 
 "Look what a dust!" she said. ''It's a 
 carriage! Oh, they'll upset!" 
 
 I jumped up. About half a mile off, I saw 
 a carriage and pair driven furiously toward 
 the villa. My heart beat. 
 
 " Who can it be," she said. 
 
 •' Don't be frightened," said L "Possibly 
 the authorites have found out about the 
 duel." 
 
 " Oh !" 
 
 " Let me go and see." 
 
 " Take care !" 
 
 "And in case I have to slip away — " 
 
 " I shall go alone. You will join us?" 
 
 " Yes. But now ; in case — " 
 
 " Well ?" 
 
 " As a reward, may I kiss your hand ?" 
 
 She gave it me. 
 
 " I am glad you came," she said. " Stay, 
 perhaps it's only our friends coming for us." 
 
 " I'll go and see."
 
 24 
 
 I was reluctant to cut short our good-by 
 — for I feared it must be final — but no time 
 was to be lost. With another kiss — and upon 
 my honor, I can't swear whether it was her 
 hand or her cheek this time — 1 rushed down- 
 stairs, seized my hat and cane, and dived into 
 the shrubberies that bordered on the turf- 
 walk. Quickly I made my way to within 
 twenty yards of the road and stopped, mo- 
 tionless and completely hidden by the trees. 
 At that moment, the carriage, with its smok- 
 ing horses, drew up at the gate. 
 
 Dumergue got out; Vooght ^ame next; 
 then a tall, powerful man, of military bearing. 
 No doubt this was the Colonel. They seemed 
 in a hurry ; motioning the driver to wait, 
 they walked or almost ran past me up the 
 path. The moment they were by me and 
 round a little curve, I hastened to the gate, 
 and burst upon the driver. 
 
 ** A hundred marks to the station !" 
 
 *' But, sir, I am engaged." 
 
 " Damn you ! Two hundred !" I cried. 
 
 " Get in," said he, like a sensible man, 
 bundling back the nosebags he was just put- 
 ting on his horses. I leapt in, he jumped on 
 the box, and off we flew quicker even than 
 they had come. As we went, I glanced up at 
 the tower. They were there ! I saw Vooght
 
 25 
 
 and Dumergue lean over for a moment, and 
 then turn as if to come down. The tall 
 stranger stood opposite the lady, and seemed 
 to be talking to her. 
 
 ** Faster !" I cried, and faster and faster 
 we went, till we reached the station. Fling- 
 ing the driver his money, I took a ticket for 
 the first train, and got in, hot and breath- 
 less. As we steamed out of the town, I saw, 
 from my carriage-window, a neat barouche 
 with a woman and three men in it, driving 
 quickly along the road, which ran by the 
 railway. It was my party ! Youth is vain, 
 and beauty is powerful. I bared my head, 
 leant out of the window, and kissed my hand 
 to the Countess. We were not more than 
 thirty yards apart, and, to my joy, I saw 
 her return my salutation, with a toss of her 
 head and a defiant glance at her companions. 
 The Colonel sat glum and still ; Vooght was 
 biting his nails harder than ever ; Dumergue 
 shook his fist at me, but I thought, more in 
 jest than in anger. I kissed my hand again 
 as the train and the carriage whisked by one 
 another, and I was borne on my way out of 
 their reach.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 AT THE HOTEL MAGNIFIQUE. 
 
 To a reflective mind nothingf is more curi- 
 ous than the way one thing leads to another. 
 A little experience of this tendency soon 
 cured me of refusing to go anywhere I was 
 asked, merely because the prospects of 
 amusement were not very obvious. I always 
 went, taking credit of course for much amia- 
 bility, and I often received my reward in an 
 unexpected development of something new 
 or an interesting revival of a former episode. 
 It happened a few months after my adven- 
 ture at Heiddberg, that my brother's wife, 
 Jane Jason, asked me, as a favor to her- 
 self, to take a stall at the theatre where a 
 certain actress was, after a long and success- 
 ful career in the provinces, introducing her- 
 self to a London audience. Jane is possessed 
 by the idea that she has a keen nose for 
 dramatic talent, and she assured me that her
 
 27 
 
 prot^g^e was a wonder. I dai-e say the woman 
 had some talent, but she was an ugly, gaunt 
 creature of f()rt3% and did not sliine in Juliet. 
 At the end of the second act, I was bored to 
 death, and was pondering whether I knew 
 enough of the play to slip out without Jane 
 being likely to discover my desertion by 
 cross-examination, when my eye happened to 
 fall on the stage-box in the first tier. In the 
 centre seat sat a fair, rather stout man, with 
 the ver}" weariest expression that I ever saw 
 on human face. He was such an unsurpassed 
 impersonation of boredom that I could not 
 help staring at him ; I could do so without 
 rudeness, as his e3-es were fixed on the chan- 
 delier in the roof of the house. I looked my 
 fill, and was about to turn away, and go out 
 for a cigarette, when somebody spoke to me 
 in a low voice, the tones of which seemed 
 familiar. 
 
 " Ah, impostor, here you are !" 
 
 It was Dumergue, smiling quietly at me. 
 I greeted him with surprise and pleasure. 
 
 " How is the Baron ?" I asked. 
 
 " He cheated the — grave," answered Du- 
 mergue. 
 
 "And the Countess?" 
 
 ** Hush ! I have a message for you."
 
 ^-*v • 
 
 28 
 
 " From her?" 1 inquired, not, I fear, with- 
 out eagerness. 
 
 "No," he replied, " from the Prince. He 
 desires that you should be presented to him." 
 
 " Who is he ?" 
 
 " I forg-ot. Prince Ferdinand of Glotten- 
 berg." 
 
 " Indeed. He's in London, then ?" 
 
 " Yes, in that box," and he pointed to the 
 bored man, and added : 
 
 " Come along ; he hates being kept wait- 
 
 ing. 
 
 " He looks as if he hated most things," I 
 remarked. 
 
 " Well, most things are detestable," said 
 Dumergue, leading the way. 
 
 The Prince rose and greeted me with 
 fatigued graciousness. 
 
 "I am very much indebted to you, Mr. 
 Jason," he said, "for — " 
 
 I began to stammer an apology for my 
 intrusion into his affairs. 
 
 " For," he resumed, without noticing what 
 I said, " a moment's bewilderment. I quite 
 enjoyed it." 
 
 I bowed, and he continued. 
 
 "The only things I cling to in life, Mr. 
 Jason, are a quiet time at home and my 
 income. You have been very discreet. If
 
 29 
 
 you hadn't, I might have lost those two 
 things. I am very much obliged. Will you 
 give me the pleasure of your company at 
 supper? Dumergue, the Princess will be 
 delighted to see Mr. Jason ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir, her Royal Highness will be 
 delighted," answered Dumergue. 
 
 " Where was the Princess going?" asked 
 the Prince. 
 
 " To a meeting of the Women's Interna- 
 tional Society for the Promotion of Morality, 
 at the Mansion House, sir." 
 
 '' Mon Dutil" said the Prince. 
 
 " His Majesty is much interested in the 
 society, sir." 
 
 " I am sure my brother would be. Come 
 along, Mr. Jason." 
 
 The Prince and Princess were staying at 
 the Hotel Magnifique in Northumberland 
 Avenue. We drove thither, and were told 
 that the Princess had returned. Upon 
 further inquiry, made by Dumergue, it 
 appeared that it would be agreeable to her 
 to sup with the Prince and to receive Mr. 
 Jason. So we went into the dining-room 
 and found her seated by the fire. After 
 greeting me, she said to the Prince. 
 
 " 1 have just written a long account of our
 
 30 
 
 Meeting to the King. He will be so inter- 
 ested." 
 
 She was a small woman, with a gentle 
 manner and a low, sweet voice. She looked 
 like an amiable and intelligent girl of eio-ht- 
 een, and had a pretty, timid air, which made 
 me wish to assure her of my respectful pro- 
 tection, 
 
 " My brother," said the Prince, " is a man 
 of Catholic tastes." 
 
 " It is necessary in a King, sir," suggested 
 Dumergue. 
 
 The Prince did not answer him, but offered 
 his arm to his wife, to escort her to the table. 
 She motioned me to sit on her right hand, 
 and began to prattle gently to me about the 
 Court of Glottenberg. The Prince put in a 
 word here and there, and Dumergue laughed 
 appreciatively whenever the Princess's de- 
 scriptions were neat and appropriate — at 
 least, so I interpreted his delicate flattery. 
 
 I enjoyed myself very much. The Princess 
 was evidently, to judge from her conversa- 
 tion, a little Puritan, and I always love a 
 pretty Puritan. That rogue Dumergue 
 agreed with all her views, and the Prince 
 allowed his silence to pass for assent. 
 
 " We do try at Court," she ended by say- 
 ing, " to set an example to society ; and, as
 
 31 
 
 the King- is unmarried, of course I have to do 
 a great deal." 
 
 At this moment, a servant entered, bearing 
 a card on a salver. He approached the 
 Princess. 
 
 " A gentleman desires the honor of an 
 audience with her Royal Highness," he 
 announced. 
 
 "At this time of night!" exclaimed the 
 Princess. 
 
 " He saj's his business will not bear delay, 
 and prays for an interview." 
 
 "All business will bear delay," said the 
 Prince, " and generally be the better for it. 
 Who is he?" 
 
 " The Baron de Barbot." 
 
 "Oh, I must see him," cried the Princess. 
 " Why, he is a dear friend of ours." 
 
 I had detected a rapid glance pass between 
 Dumergue and the Prince. The latter then 
 answered : 
 
 "Yes, we must see Barbot. If you will go 
 to the drawing-room, FU take your message 
 myself." 
 
 " That is kind of you," said the Princess, 
 retiring. 
 
 " Give me the card," said the Prince, " and 
 ask the Baron to be kind enough to wait a 
 lew minutes."
 
 32 
 
 The servant went out, and the Prince 
 turned to me. 
 
 " Why didn't you kill him, Mr. Jason ?" he 
 asked. 
 
 " Is it ?" I began. 
 
 " Yes, it's your Baron," said Dumergue. 
 
 "It's really a little awkward," said the 
 Prince, as though gently remonstrating with 
 fate. " We had arranged it all so pleasantly." 
 
 " It would upset the Princess," said 
 Dumergue. 
 
 " What upsets the Princess upsets me," 
 said the Prince. " I am a devoted husband, 
 Mr. Jason." 
 
 " If there is anything I can do, sir," said I, 
 "rely on me." 
 
 "You overwhelm me," said the Prince. 
 *' Is there anything, Dumergue ?" 
 
 " Why, 3^es, sir. Mr, Jason was at the ball. 
 Why should he have fought, if he wasn't?" 
 
 "You are right, Dumergue. Mr. Jason, 
 you were at the ball." 
 
 " But, sir, I — I don't know anything about 
 the ball." 
 
 " It was just like other balls — other unasked 
 balls," said Dumergue. 
 
 " Perhaps a little more so," added the 
 Prince, lighting a cigarette. 
 
 " There was a scandal at the last one,"
 
 33 
 
 Dumergue continued," and the King strictly 
 forbade anyone connected with the Court to 
 go, under pain of his severe displeasure. 
 There had been a rumor that a Royal Prince 
 was at the one before, and consequently — " 
 
 *' That Royal Prince was specially com- 
 manded not to go to this one," said the 
 Prince. 
 
 " It was bad enough," resumed Dumergue, 
 " that it should be discovered that the 
 Princess's favorite lady-in-wating, the Count- 
 ess von Hohstein — " 
 
 '* Who bore such a high character," inter- 
 jected the Prince. 
 
 " Did go, and, moreover, went under the 
 escort of an unknown gentleman — a gentle- 
 man whose name she refused to give." 
 
 " Was that discovered ?" said I. 
 
 " It was. This Baron detected her, and, 
 with a view, as we have reason to believe, to 
 compelling her companion to declare himself, 
 publicly insulted her." 
 
 " W^hereupon," said the Prince, "you very 
 properly knocked him down, Mr. Jason." 
 
 " I beg 3'our pardon, sir ?" 
 
 " The Princess," continued Dumergue, 
 "was terribly agitated and annoyed at tha 
 scandal and the duel which followed. And
 
 34 
 
 of course the Countess left the court, and re- 
 turned to England." 
 
 " To England ?" 
 
 ** Yes; she was a Miss Mason. The King 
 ennobled her at the Princess's request." 
 
 I smiled and said : 
 
 "And now there is a question about who 
 her escort was ?" 
 
 "There is," said Dumergue. "It is be- 
 lieved that the Baron entertains an extraor- 
 dinary idea that the gentleman in question 
 was no other than — " 
 
 " Mj^self," said the Prince, throwing away 
 his cigarette. 
 
 I remembered the Baron's strange ques- 
 tions before the duel. 
 
 " Dispose of me as you please, sir," said I. 
 
 "Then you were at the ball, and knocked 
 the Baron down !" exclaimed Dumergue. 
 
 " A thousand thanks," said the Prince. 
 
 " But what are we to do with him now, 
 sir?" asked Dumergue. "The Princess will 
 be expecting him." 
 
 " I will go and tell the Princess of Mr. 
 Jason's confession. You go with Mr. Jason, 
 and tell the Baron that the Princess cannot 
 receive him. I want him to see Mr. Jason." 
 
 " But, sir," said I, " I didn't fight under my 
 own name."
 
 35 
 
 The Prince was already gone, and Dumer, 
 gue was half way downstairs. I followed the 
 latter. 
 
 We found the Baron in the smoking-room^ 
 taking a cup of coffee. A couple of men sat 
 talking on a settee near him ; otherwise the 
 room was empty. 
 
 Dumergue went up to the Baron, I follow- 
 ing a step or two behind him. The Baron 
 rose and bowed coldly. 
 
 " I am charged,' said Dumergue, " to ex- 
 press his Royal Highness's regrets that her 
 Royal Highness cannot have the pleasure of 
 receiving you. She has retired to her apart- 
 ments." 
 
 " The servant told me she was at supper." 
 
 " He was misinformed." 
 
 "I'm not to be put off like that. I'll have 
 a refusal from the Princess herself." 
 
 "I will inform his Royal Highness." 
 
 The Baron was about to answer, when he 
 caught sight of me. 
 
 *' Ah, there's the jackal," he said with a 
 sneer. 
 
 1 stepped forward. 
 
 " Do you refer to me?" I asked. 
 
 *' Unless I am wrong in recognizing my 
 former antagonist. Colonel Despard."
 
 36 
 
 This was just what I had anticipated. 
 Dumergue did not seem surprised either. 
 
 " Of course it is Colonel Despard," he said. 
 " You would not be likely to forget him, 
 Baron." 
 
 We had been speaking in a low tone, but 
 at Dumergue's sneer, the Baron lost his tem- 
 per. Raising his voice, he said, almost in a 
 shout : 
 
 " Then I tell Colonel Despard that he is a 
 mean hound." 
 
 If I assumed the Colonel's name, I felt I 
 must at least defend it from imputations. I 
 began. 
 
 " Once before, Baron, I chastised — " 
 
 I was interrupted. One of the men on the 
 settee interposed, rising as he spoke. 
 
 " I beg pardon, gentlemen, but is it Colonel 
 Despard of the Hussars to whom you refer?" 
 
 " Yes," said the Baron. 
 
 " Then that gentleman is not Colonel Des- 
 pard," announced our new friend. " I am 
 Colonel Despard's brother-in-law." 
 
 For a moment I was at a loss ; things were 
 falling out so very unfortunately. Dumergue 
 turned on the stranger fiercely. 
 
 "Pray, sir, was your interposition solic- 
 ited ?" 
 
 " Certainly not. But if this gentlea)a;» says
 
 37. ' 
 
 he is Colonel Despard, I take leave to con- 
 tradict him." 
 
 " I should advise you to do nothing of the 
 sort," said I. " M. Dumergue knows me very 
 well." 
 
 " This person," said the Baron, " passed 
 himself off as Colonel Despard, and, by that 
 pretext, obtained from me the honor of a 
 duel with me. It appears that he is a mere 
 impostor." 
 
 The other man on the settee called out 
 cheerfully, " Bob, send for the police I" 
 
 Dumergue looked rather sheepish; his 
 invention failed him. • 
 
 " Do either or both of these gentlemen," 
 said I, indicating the Baron and the Colonel's 
 brother-in-law, " call me an impostor?" 
 
 " I do," said the Baron, with a sneering 
 laugh. 
 
 " I am compelled to assert it," said the 
 other, with a bow. 
 
 I had edged near the iittle table on which 
 the Baron's coffee had been served. I now 
 took up the coffee-pot and milk-jug. The 
 coffee I threw in the Baron's face, and the 
 milk in that of his ally. Both men sprang 
 forward with an oath. At the same moment, 
 the electric light went out, and I was vio- 
 lently pulled back towards the door, and
 
 3S 
 
 some one whispered, "Vanish as quick as 
 3'ou can. Go home — go anywhere." 
 
 " All right, sir," said I, for I recognized 
 the Prince's voice. " But what are tiiey 
 doing?" 
 
 " Never mind ; be off." And the Prince 
 handed me a hat. 
 
 I walked quickly to the door, and hailed a 
 hansom. As I drove off, I saw the Prince 
 skip upstairs, and a posse of waiters rush 
 toward the smoking-room. I went home to 
 bed. 
 
 The next morning, as I was breakfasting, 
 my man told me two gentlemen were below, 
 and wished to see me. I told him to show 
 them up, and the Prince and Dumergue came 
 in, the former wrapped up in a fur coat, with 
 a collar that hid most of his face. 
 
 "The Prince would like some brandy in a 
 little soda-water," said Dumergue, 
 
 I administered the cordial. The Prince 
 drank it, and then turned to me. 
 
 " Did you get home all right ?" he asked. 
 
 " Perfectly, sir." 
 
 " After you took leave of us, we had an 
 explanation. Mr. Wetherington — it was Mr. 
 Wetherington at whom you threw the milk — 
 was very reasonable. I explained^ the whole
 
 39 
 
 matter, and he said he was sure his brother- 
 in-law would pardon the liberty." 
 
 " I'm afraid I took rather a liberty with 
 him." 
 
 "Oh," said Dumergue, "we made him 
 believe the milk was meant for the Baron, as 
 well as the coffee. I said we took it au lait 
 at Giottenberg." 
 
 *' It's lucky I thought of turning out the 
 light," said the Prince. " I was looking on, 
 and it seemed about time." 
 
 " What did the hotel people say, sir?" 
 
 *' They are going to sue the Electric Com- 
 pany," said the Prince, with a slight smile. 
 " It seems there is a penalty if the light doesn't 
 work properly," 
 
 "And the Baron, sir?" 
 
 " We kicked the Baron out as a black- 
 mailer," said Dumergue. "He is going to 
 bring an action." 
 
 " I return to Giottenberg to-day," con- 
 cluded the Prince ; " accompanied by the 
 Princess and M. Dumergue." 
 
 I thought this course very prudent, and 
 said so. " But," I added, " I shall be called 
 as a witness." 
 
 " No ; Colonel Despard will." 
 
 " Well, then " 
 
 " He will establish an alibi. Voilh. tout /"
 
 40 
 
 « I am glad it all ends so happily, sir." 
 " Well, there is one matter," said the Prince. 
 *' I had to tell the Princess of your indiscre- 
 tion in taking Madame Vooght — " 
 *' Who, sir ?" 
 
 *' Mr. Jason," put in Dumergue, " has not 
 heard that the Countess and Vooght are 
 married." 
 
 " Yes," said the Prince, " they are married, 
 and will settle in America. Vooght is a 
 loss ; but we can't have everything in this 
 world." 
 
 " I hope Herr Vooght will be happy," 
 said I. 
 
 " I should think it very unlikely," said the 
 Prince. "But, to return. The Princess is 
 very angry with you. She insists — " 
 
 " That I should never be presented to her 
 again ?" 
 
 " On the contrary ; that you should come 
 and apologize in person. Only on condition 
 of bringing you again, could I make my peace 
 for bringing you once." 
 
 I was very much surprised, but of course I 
 said I was at the Princess's commands. 
 
 "You don't mind meeting us in Paris? 
 We stay there a few days," said Dumergue. 
 
 *' You see," added the Prince, " Dumergue 
 says there are things called writs, and—"
 
 41 
 
 •* I will be in Paris to-morrow, sir.'* 
 " I shall be there to-day," said the Prince, 
 rising.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE MISSION OF THE RUBY. 
 
 r 
 
 I COULD not imagine why the Princess de- 
 sired to see me. It would have been much 
 more natural to punish the impertinence of 
 which I had no doubt been guilty — I mean 
 of which it was agreed on all hands that I 
 had been guilty — by merely declining to re- 
 ceive me or see me again. Even the desire 
 ior a written apology would have been treat- 
 ing me as of too much account. But she 
 wanted to see me. What I had heard of the 
 Princess's character utterly forbade any idea 
 which ought not to have been, but would 
 have been, pleasant to entertain. No; she 
 clearly wanted me, but what for I could not 
 imagine. 
 
 When I went to claim my audience, the 
 
 Prince was not visible, nor Dumergue either, 
 
 dnd I was at once received by the Princess 
 
 alone. She was looking smaller, and more 
 
 [42J
 
 43 
 
 simple and helpless than ever. I also thought 
 her looking prettier, and I enjoyed immensely 
 the pious, severe, forgiving little rebuke 
 which she administered to me. I humbly 
 craved pardon, and had no difficulty in ob- 
 taining it. Indeed, she became very gracious. 
 
 " You must come to Glottenberg," she said, 
 ** in a few months' time." 
 
 " To obe}'' your Royal Highness's com- 
 mands will be a delightful duty," said I, bow- 
 ing. 
 
 She rose and stood by the fire, " toying" 
 (as the novelists say) with her fan. 
 
 " You seem to be an obliging man, Mr. 
 Jason," she said. " You were readyto oblige 
 Madame Vooght." 
 
 I made a gesture of half-serious protest. 
 
 " I wonder," she continued, " if you would 
 do me a little service." 
 
 " I shall be most honored if I may hope to 
 be able to," said I. What did she want? 
 
 She blushed slightly, and, with a nervous 
 laugh, said : 
 
 " It's only a short stor3^ When I was a 
 3'oung girl, I was foolish enough, Mr. Jason, 
 to fall in love — or, at least, to think I did. 
 There was a young English attache — I know 
 I can rely on your perfect discretion — at my 
 father's court, and he — he forgot the differ-
 
 44 
 
 ence between us. He was a man of rank, 
 though. Well, I was foolish enough to ac. 
 cept from him a very valuable ring — a fine 
 ruby — quite a family heirloom. Of course, I 
 never wore it, but I took it. And when I 
 married, I — 
 
 She paused. 
 
 " Your Royal Highness had no opportu- 
 nity of returning it?" 
 
 " Exactly. He had left the court. I didn't 
 know where he was, and — and the post was 
 not quite trustworthy." 
 
 " 1 understand perfectly." 
 
 " I saw in the papers the other day that he 
 was married. Of course I can't keep it. His 
 wife ought to have it — and I dare not — I 
 would prefer not to — send it." 
 
 " I see. You would wish me — ?" 
 
 " To be my messenger. Will you ?" 
 
 Of course I assented. She went into an 
 adjoining room, and returned with a little 
 morocco case. Opening it, she showed me a 
 magnificent ruby, set in an old gold ring of 
 great beauty. 
 
 *• Will you give it him?" she said. 
 
 "Your Royal Highness has not told me his 
 name?" 
 
 " Lord Daynesborough. You will be able 
 to find him ?"
 
 Mil q ', V M'^ ■■■■ '^ :--; ..^-H! 
 
 " She went into an adjoiniug room, and returned 
 witli a little morocco case."
 
 45 
 
 ti 
 
 Oh, yes." 
 
 " And you will — you wi// be careful, Mr. 
 Jason ?" 
 
 " He shall have it safely in three days. 
 Any message with it, madame?" 
 
 " No. Yes — just my best wishes for his 
 happiness." 
 
 I bowed and prepared to withdraw. 
 
 " And you must come and tell me — " 
 
 ** I will come and make my report." 
 
 " I do not know how to thank you." 
 
 I kissed her hand and bowed myself out, 
 mightily amused, and, maybe, rather touched 
 at the revelation of this youthful romance. 
 Somehow such things are always touching, 
 stupid as they are for the most part. It 
 pleased me to find that the little Princess 
 was flesh and blood. 
 
 She followed me to the door, and whis- 
 pered, as I opened it : 
 
 ** I have not troubled the Prince with the 
 matter." 
 
 " Wives are so considerate," thought I, as 
 I went downstairs. 
 
 On arriving in England, I made inquiries 
 about Lord Daynesborough. I found that it 
 was seven years since he had abruptly thrown 
 up his post of attache, without cause assigned. 
 After this event, he lived in retirement for
 
 46 
 
 some time, and then returned into society. 
 Three months ago he had married Miss 
 Dorothy Codrington, a noted beauty, with 
 whom he appeared much in love, and had 
 just returned from his wedding-tour and 
 settled down for the season at his house in 
 Curzon Street. Hearing all this, I thought 
 the little Princess might have let well alone, 
 and kept her ring ; but her conduct was no 
 business of mine, and 1 set about fulfilling my 
 commission. I needed no one to tell me that 
 Lady Daynesborough had better, as the 
 Princess would have phrased it, not be 
 troubled with the matter. 
 
 I had no difficulty in meeting the young 
 lord. In spite of the times we live in, a 
 Jason is still a welcome guest in most houses, 
 and before long he and I were sitting side by 
 side at Mrs. Closmadene's table. The ladies 
 had withdrawn, and we were about to follow 
 them upstairs. Daynesborough was a frank, 
 pleasant fellow, and scorned the affectation of 
 concealing his happiness in the married state. 
 In fact he seemed to take a fancy to me, and 
 told me that he would like me to come and 
 see him at home. 
 
 " Then," he said, " you will cease to dis- 
 trust marriage." 
 
 " I shall be most glad to come," I answered.
 
 47 
 
 "more especially as I want a talk with 
 you." 
 
 " Do you ? About what?" 
 
 •' I have a message for you." 
 
 •* You have a message for me, Mr. Jason? 
 Forgive me, but from whom ?" 
 
 I leant over toward him, and whispered, 
 " The Princess Ferdinand of Glottenberg." 
 
 The man turned as white as a sheet, and, 
 gripping my hand, said under his breath : 
 
 " Hush ! Surely you — you haven't — she 
 hasn't sent it?" 
 
 " Yes, she has," said I. 
 
 " Good God ! After seven 3; ears !" 
 
 General Closmadene rose from his chair. 
 Daynesborough drank off a very large 
 *' white-wash," and added : 
 
 " Come to dinner to-morrow — eight o'clock. 
 We shall be alone ; and, for heaven's sake, 
 sav nothing." 
 
 I said nothing, and I went to dinner, carry- 
 ing the ruby ring in my breast-pocket. But 
 I began to wonder whether the little Princess 
 was quite as childlike as she seemed. 
 
 Lady Daynesborough dined with us. She 
 was a tall, slender girl, very handsome, and, 
 to judge from her appearance, not wanting 
 in resolution and character. She was obvi- 
 ously devoted to her husband, and he treated
 
 48 
 
 her with an affectionate deference that seemed 
 to me ahnost overdone. It was like the 
 manner of a man who is remorseful for having 
 wounded some one he loves. 
 
 When she left us, he returned to the table, 
 and, with a weary sigh, said : 
 
 " Now, Mr. Jason, I am ready." 
 
 ** My task is a very short one," said I. " I 
 have no message except to convey to you the 
 Princess's best wishes for your happiness on 
 your marriage, of which she has recently 
 heard, and to give you the ring. Here it is." 
 
 " Have women no mercy?" groaned he. 
 
 " I beg your pardon ?" said I, rather 
 startled. 
 
 " She waits seven years — seven years with- 
 out a word or a sign — and then sends it! 
 And why ?" 
 
 * Because you're married." 
 
 "Exactly. Isn't it — devilish?" 
 
 **Not at all. It's strictly correct. She 
 said herself that your wife was the proper 
 person to have the ring now." 
 
 He looked at me with a bitter smile. 
 
 " My dear Jason," he said, " I have been 
 flattering your acumen at the expense of your 
 morality. I thought you knew what this 
 meant." 
 
 " No more than what the Princess told me."
 
 49 
 
 " No, of course not, or you would not have 
 brought it. When we parted, I gave her the 
 ring, and she made me promise, on my honor 
 as a gentleman, to come to her the moment 
 she sent the ring — to leave everything and 
 come to her, and take her away. And I 
 promised." 
 
 " And she has never sent till now ?" 
 
 " I never married till now," he said bitterly. 
 "What's the matter with her?" 
 
 " Nothing that I know of." 
 
 He rose, went to a writing-table, and came 
 back with a fat paper book — a Continental 
 Bradshaw. 
 
 " You're not going?" I exclaimed. 
 
 " Oh, yes. I promised." 
 
 "You promised something to your wife 
 too, didn't you ?" 
 
 " I can't argue it. I must go and see what 
 she wants. I — I hope she'll let me come back." 
 
 I tried to dissuade him. I know I told him 
 he was a fool. I think I told him he was a 
 scoundrel. I was not sure of the second, but 
 I thought it wisest to pretend that I was. 
 
 " I hope it will be all right," he said, again 
 and again ; " but, right or wrong, I must go.'* 
 
 I took an immediate resolution. 
 
 " I suppose you'll go by the eleven o'clock 
 train to Paris to-morrow ?"
 
 50 
 
 *' Yes," he said. 
 
 " Well, you're wrong. Good-night." 
 
 At twelve o'clock the next day, I called in 
 Curzon Street, and sent in m}^ card to Lady 
 Daynesborough. 
 
 She saw me at once. I expect that she 
 fancied I had something to do with her hus- 
 band's sudden departure. She was looking 
 pale and dispirited, and I rather thought she 
 had been crying. Her husband, it appeared, 
 had told her that he had to go to Paris on 
 business, and would be back in three days. 
 
 " He didn't tell you what it was?" 
 
 " No. Some public affairs, I understood." 
 
 " Lady Daynesborough," said I, " you 
 hardly know me, but my name tells you I am 
 a gentleman." 
 
 She looked at me in surprise. 
 
 " Why, of course, Mr. Jason. But what 
 has that to do— ?" 
 
 " I can't explain. But, if you are wise, you 
 will come with me to Paris." 
 
 " Go with you to Paris ! Oh ! is he in 
 danger?" 
 
 " In danger of making a fool of himself. 
 Now, I'll saying nothing more. Will you 
 come ?" 
 
 " It will look very strange." 
 
 « Very."
 
 51 
 
 " In fact — most unusual." 
 
 " Most." 
 
 " Won't there be a — a — scandal, if — " 
 
 " Sure to be. Will you come ?" 
 
 " You must have a reason," she said. " 1 
 will come." 
 
 " We started that evening, nine hours 
 after My Lord, going separately to the sta- 
 tion, and meeting on the boat. All through 
 the journey, she scarcely spoke a word. 
 When we were nearing Paris, she asked : 
 
 " Do you know where he is ?" 
 
 "No; but I can trace him," I replied. 
 
 So I could. I bought a paper, and found 
 that Prince and Princess Ferdinand had, the 
 day before, proceeded from Paris en route for 
 Glottenberg. Of course Daynesborough had 
 followed them. 
 
 " We must go on," I said. 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Because your husband has gone on." 
 
 She obeyed me like a lamb ; but there was 
 a look about her pretty mouth that made me 
 doubt if Daynesborough would find her like 
 a lamb. 
 
 We went to the principal hotel in Glotten- 
 berg. I introduced Lady Daynesborough as 
 my sister, Miss Jac3nith Jason, and stated 
 that she was in weak health, and would keep
 
 52 
 
 her room for the present. Then I sallied 
 forth, intent on discov^ering Dumergue ; he 
 would be able to post me up in the state of 
 affairs. 
 
 On my way, I met the King taking his 
 daily drive. He was a dour, sour-looking, 
 pasty-faced creature, and I quite understood 
 that he would fail to appreciate many of my 
 Prince's characteristics. A priest sat by him, 
 and a bystander told me it was the King's 
 confessor (the Glottenberg family are all of 
 the old church), and added that the King's 
 confessor was no mean power in the State. I 
 asked him where M. Dumergue was lodged, 
 and he directed me to Prince Ferdinand's 
 palace, which stood in a pleasant park in the 
 suburbs of the town. 
 
 I found Dumergue in a melancholy condi- 
 tion, though he professed to be much cheered 
 by the sight of me. 
 
 " My dear fellow," he said, " you, if any- 
 body, can get us out of this." 
 
 " I never knew such people," said I. 
 *• What's up now?" 
 
 " There has been a — an explosion. Did 
 you ever hear of Daynesborough ?" 
 
 I said no, and Dumergue told me of the 
 Princess's iorvaer pcjtchant for him. 
 
 " Well?" said I.
 
 53 
 
 " Well, she's invited him here, and he's 
 now in the Palace. You may imagine the 
 Prince's feelings." 
 
 " I suppose the Prince can turn him out?" 
 
 Dumergue shook his head dolefully. 
 
 " She holds the trumps," he answered. 
 " Jason, she's a clever woman. We thought 
 we had hoodwinked her. When Daynes- 
 borough turned up, looking, I'm bound to 
 sa}', very sheepish, the Prince was really 
 quite anno3'ed. He told the Princess that 
 she must send him away. She refused flatly. 
 'Then I shall consult my brother,' says the 
 Prince. ' I shall consult the King too,' said 
 the Princess. ' It's indecent,' said he. * It's 
 not as bad as taking my ladies to masked 
 balls in disguise,' she answered. ' Oh, you 
 think you imposed on me — you and that 
 clumsy young animal' (forgive me, my dear 
 fellow), 'Jason. I am not an idiot. I knew 
 all the time. And now the King: will know 
 too — unless Lord Daynesborough stays just 
 as long as I like.' " 
 
 " Confound her," said I. 
 
 " There it is," he went on. " The Prince 
 is furious, the Princess triumphant, and 
 Daynesborough in possession." 
 
 " What does he mean to do?" 
 
 He shrugged his shoulders.
 
 54 
 
 " Who can tell ? She's a little devil. 
 Fancy pretending to be deceived, and then 
 turning on us like this ! You should have 
 heard her describe you, my boy !" and Du- 
 mergue chuckled in sad pleasure. 
 
 I object to being ridiculed, especially by 
 women. I determined to take a hand in the 
 game. I wondered if they knew that Daynes- 
 borough was married. 
 
 " I suppose this young Daynesborough 
 enjoys himself ?" 
 
 " Well, he ought to. He's got nothing to 
 lose ; but he seems a melancholy, glum 
 creature. I think he must be one of the 
 King's kidney." 
 
 " Or married, perhaps?" I suggested airily. 
 
 "Oh, no. She wouldn't have him here, if 
 he were married." 
 
 I saw that Dumergue did not yet appre- 
 ciate the Princess in whose household he had 
 the honor to serve. 
 
 " She won't compromise herself, I sup- 
 pose ?" 
 
 " Not she !" he replied, regretfully. " She 
 may compromise the Prince." 
 
 " I rebuked him for his cynicism, and 
 promised to consider and let him know if 
 anything occurred to me. My hope lay in 
 Daynesborough, I could see that he was
 
 55 
 
 galant malgre lid, and I thought I could 
 persuade him that he had done all that his 
 mistaken promise fairly entailed on him; or, 
 if I could not convince him, I had a suspicion 
 that his wife might, could, and would, in a 
 very peremptory fashion, if I brought about 
 an encounter between them. I was full of 
 eagerness, for, apart from my zeal in the 
 cause of morality and domestic happiness, I 
 did not approve of being called a clumsy 
 young animal. It was neither true nor witty, 
 and surely abuse ought to be one or the 
 other, if it is to be distinguished from mere 
 vulgar scurrility. 
 
 I have been told, by those who know the 
 place, that Glottenberg is not, as a rule, a 
 very exciting residence. But for the next 
 four and twenty hours I, at least, had no 
 reason to grumble at lack of incidents. 
 
 The play began, if I may so express my- 
 self, by the Princess sending for the doctor. 
 The doctor, having heard from the Princess 
 what she wanted to do, told her what she 
 ought to do; of course I speak from con- 
 jecture. Pie prescribed a visit to her country 
 villa for a week or two, plenty of fresh air, 
 complete repose, and freedom from worry, 
 Dumergue told me that the Princess con- 
 sidered that the terms of this prescriotifU)
 
 56 
 
 entailed a temporary separation from her 
 husband, and that the Prince had agreed 
 to remain in Glottenberg. The Princess 
 started for her villa at twelve o'clock on 
 Wednesday morning. The distance was but 
 fifteen miles, and she traveled by road in 
 her own carriage, although the main line 
 of railway from Glottenberg to Paris passed 
 within two miles of her destination. 
 
 At one o'clock Lord Daynesborough was 
 received by Prince Ferdinand, having re- 
 quested an interview for the purpose of 
 taking his leave, as he left for Paris by the 
 five o'clock train. Everybody knew that the 
 Prince and Daynesborough were not on cor- 
 dial terms; but this fact hardly explained' 
 Daynesborough's extreme embarrassment 
 and obvious discomfort during the brief con-" 
 versation. Dumergue escorted him from the 
 Prince's presence and said that he was 
 shaking like an aspen-leaf or an ill-made 
 blanc-mange. 
 
 At three o'clock I went to the hotel, and 
 had an interview with Lady Daynesborough. 
 I then returned to the Palace, and made a 
 communication to the Prince. The Prince 
 was distinctly perturbed. 
 
 " I never thought she would go so far,"
 
 57 
 
 he said. " It's not that she cares twopence 
 about Daynesborough." 
 
 "To what, then, sir, do you attribute — ?" 
 
 " Temper; all temper, Mr. Jason. She is' 
 angry about that wretched ball, and she 
 wants to anger me." 
 
 " Her Royal Highness is, however, giving' 
 a handle to her enemies," 1 ventured to 
 suggest. 
 
 "She must come back to-night," said he. 
 "I won't be made to look like a fool." 
 
 " My plan will, I hope, dispose of Lord 
 Daynesborough. If so, your Royal Highness 
 might join the Princess." 
 
 " I shan't do anything of the sort. I shall 
 have her brought back." 
 
 Apparently there was a reserve of resolu- 
 tion latent somewhere in this indolent gentle- 
 man. 
 
 " Will you go yourself, sir?" 
 
 "No. You must do it." 
 
 "I, sir! Surely, M. Dumergue — " 
 
 "Dumergue's afraid of her. Will you 
 bring her back ?" 
 
 "Supposing she won't come?" 
 
 " I didn't request you to ask her to come. 
 I requested you to bring her." 
 
 I looked at him inquiringly. He inhaled 
 a mouthful of smoke, and added, with a nod :
 
 58 
 
 *' Yes, if necessary." 
 
 " Will your Royal Highness hold me 
 harmless from the King — or the law." 
 
 "No. I can't. Will you do it?" 
 
 " With pleasure, sir." 
 
 At ten minutes to five, Lady Daynesbor- 
 ough, heavily veiled, and I drove up to the 
 station in a hired cab, and hid ourselves in 
 the third-class waiting-room. At five min- 
 utes to five, Lord Daynesborough arrived. 
 He wore a scarf up to his nose, and a cap 
 down to his eyes, and walked to the station, 
 unattended, and without luggage. He got 
 into a second-class smoking carriage — one of 
 the long compartments divided into separate 
 boxes by intervening partitions reaching 
 within a yard of the roof, a gangway running 
 down the middle. On seeing him enter, I 
 caught the guard, gave him twenty marks, 
 and told him to admit no one except myself 
 and my companion into that carriage. Then 
 I hauled Lady Daynesborough in, and we 
 sat down at the opposite end to that occupied 
 by her husband. 
 
 The train started. It was only five-and- 
 twenty minutes' run to the station for the 
 Princess's villa. There was no time to 
 lose. 
 
 " Are you ready ?" I whispered.
 
 59 
 
 «* Yes," she answered, her voice trembling 
 a little. 
 
 We rose, walked along, and sat down oppo- 
 site Lord Daynesborough. He was looking 
 out of the window, although it was dark, and 
 did not turn. 
 
 " Lord Daynesborough," said I, " you have 
 forgotten your ticket." And I held out a 
 through ticket to Paris. 
 
 He started as if he had been shot. 
 
 " Who the devil—" he began— "Jason !' 
 
 " Yes," said L " Here's your ticket." 
 
 " 1 thought you were in England," he 
 gasped. 
 
 " No, I am here." 
 
 " Spying on my actions ?" 
 
 " Acquainted with them." 
 
 " I'll have no interference, sir. If you 
 know me, you will kindly be silent, and leave 
 me to myself." 
 
 Time was passing. 
 
 " You are going to Paris with this lady," 
 said L 
 
 " You're insolent, sir — you and your " 
 
 " Don't say what you'll regret. She's your 
 wife." 
 
 Well, of course, he was very much in the 
 wrong, and looked uncommonly ridiculous to 
 boot. Still, the wa}' he collapsed was rather
 
 6o 
 
 craven. I withdrew for five minutes. Then 
 I returned, and held out the ticket again. 
 He took it. 
 
 " If you will leave us for five minutes, Lady 
 Daynesborough ?" 
 
 She went into the next box. Then I said : 
 
 " Now, we've only ten minutes. We're 
 going to change clothes. Be quick." 
 
 I took off my coat. 
 
 " By God, I'll not stand this !" 
 
 And he rose. 
 
 In a moment I had him by the collar, and 
 was presenting a pistol at his head. 
 
 "No nonsense!" I whispered. "Off with 
 them !" 
 
 He. might have known I would not shoot 
 him in his wife's presence ; but I could and 
 would have undressed him with my own 
 hands. Perhaps he guessed this. 
 
 " Let me go," he muttered. 
 
 I released him, and he took off his coat. 
 
 The train began to slacken speed. I called 
 to Lady Daynesborough, who rejoined us. 
 
 " You have fulfilled your promise," said I to 
 the young man. " And," I added, turning to 
 her, "I have fulfilled mine. Good nip-ht." 
 
 I opened the door, and jumped out as we 
 entered the station. I stood waiting till the 
 train started again, but Lord Daynesborough
 
 
 " The Princess was lying on a lounge, reading a novel."
 
 6i 
 
 4 
 
 remained in his place. I wonder what passed 
 on that journey. She was a plucky girl, and 
 I can only trust she gave him what he 
 deserved. At any rate, he never, so far as I 
 heard, ran away again. 
 
 I asked my way to the villa, and reached it 
 after half an hour's walking. I did not go in 
 by the lodge gates, but climbed the palings, 
 and reached the door by way of the shrub- 
 beries. I knocked softly. A man opened the 
 door instantly. He must have been wait- 
 ing. 
 
 " Is it Milord?" he said, in French. 
 
 "Yes," I answered, entering rapidly. 
 
 " You are expected, Milord." 
 
 I did not know his voice, and it was dark 
 in the passage. 
 
 " I am wet," I said. " Take me to a fire." 
 
 " There is one in the pantry," he answered, 
 leading the wa)'. 
 
 We reached the pantry, and he turned to 
 light the gas. 
 
 Looking at me in the full blaze, he started 
 back, then scrutinized me closely, then ex- 
 claimed — 
 
 " What ? You are not— !" 
 
 "Oh, yes, I am. I am Lord Daynes- 
 borough." 
 
 " It's a lie. You are a robber — a — "
 
 62 
 
 " lam Lord Daynesborough — Lord Daynes- 
 borough — Lord Daynesborough." 
 
 At each repetition I advanced a step nearer ; 
 at the last I produced my trusty pistol, at the 
 same time holding out a bank-note in the 
 other hand. 
 
 He took the note. 
 
 " You will stay here," I said, " for the next 
 two hours. You will not come out, whatever 
 happens. Is there any one else in the 
 house ?" 
 
 " One maid, Milord, and a man in the 
 stables." 
 
 Where is the maid ?" 
 
 "In the kitchen." 
 
 " Is the man within hearing?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Good. Is the Princess upstairs ?" 
 
 " She is. Milord." 
 
 I made him direct me to the room, and left 
 him. I thought I would neglect the maid 
 and go straight to work. I went up to the 
 door to which I had been directed, and 
 knocked. 
 
 " Come in," said the gentle, childlike voice. 
 
 I went in. The Princess was lying on a 
 sofa by the fire, reading a paper-covered 
 book. She turned her head with a careless 
 glance.
 
 63 
 
 "Ah, you have come! Well, I almost 
 hoped you would be afraid. I really don't 
 want you." 
 
 This reception would probably have an- 
 no3'ed Lord Daynesborough. 
 
 "Why should I be afraid?" I asked, mim- 
 icking Daynesborough's voice as well as I 
 could. 
 
 Meanwhile I quietly locked the door. 
 
 " Why, because of your wife. I know you 
 tremble before her." 
 
 1 advanced to the sofa. 
 
 "I have no wife," I said; "and, seeing 
 what 1 do, I thank God for it." 
 
 She leapt up with a scream, loud and 
 shrill. 
 
 A door opposite me opened, and a girl 
 rushed in, crying : 
 
 " Madame !" 
 
 " Go back !" I said. " Go back." 
 
 She paused, looking bewildered. I walked 
 quickly up to her. 
 
 "Go back and keep quiet;" and, taking 
 her by the shoulders, I pushed her back 
 into the next room. 
 
 The Princess rushed to the other door, 
 and, on finding it locked, screamed again. 
 
 " Nobody," I remarked, " should embark 
 on these things who has not good nerves."
 
 64 
 
 She recognized me now. Her fright had 
 been purely physical — I suppose she thought 
 I was a burglar. When she knew me, she 
 came forward in a dignified way, sat down 
 on the sofa, and said : 
 
 " Explain your conduct, sir, if you are in a 
 condition, to do so." 
 
 "I am sober, madame," said I; "and I 
 have two messages for you." 
 
 " You present yourself in a strange way. 
 Pray be brief," and she glanced anxiously at 
 the clock. 
 
 '* Time does not press, madame," said I. 
 ** Nobody will come." 
 
 "Nobody will — ? What do you mean? 
 I expect nobody." 
 
 " Precisely, madame — and nobody will 
 come." 
 
 Her ivory fan broke between her fingers 
 with a sharp click. 
 
 " What do you want ?" she said. 
 
 " To deliver my messages." 
 ■ "Well?" 
 
 " First, Lord Daynesborough offers his 
 apologies for being compelled to leave for 
 Paris without tendering his farewell." 
 
 She turned very red and then very white. 
 But she restrained herself. 
 
 " And the other?"
 
 6s 
 
 " His Royal Highness requests that you 
 will avail yourself of my escort for an imme- 
 diate return to Glottenberg." 
 
 " And his reasons?" 
 
 ** Oh, madame, as if I should inquire 
 them !" 
 
 " You are merely insolent, sir. I shall not 
 go to-night." 
 
 " His Koyal Highness was very urgent." 
 
 She looked at me for a moment. 
 
 " Why had Lord Daynesborough to leave 
 so suddenly ?" she asked suspiciously. 
 
 " His wife wished it." 
 
 " Did she know where he was ?" 
 
 "Apparently. She followed him to Glot- 
 tenberg. She arrived there yesterday." 
 
 " Now I see — now I understand ! I had to 
 deal with a traitor." 
 
 " You must bestow trust if you desire not 
 to be deceived, madame. You dared to use 
 me as a go-between." 
 
 " You had had practise in the trade." 
 
 The Princess had a turn for repartee." I 
 could not have set her right without quite an 
 argument. I evaded the point. 
 
 " And yet your Royal Highness thought 
 me a clumsy animal !" 
 
 " Oh, she said, with a slight laugh, " it's 
 wounded amour propre^ is it ? Come, Mr.
 
 66 
 
 Jason, I apologize. You are all that is bril 
 liant and delightful — and English." 
 
 " Your Royal Highness is too good." 
 
 "And now, Mr. Jason, your device being 
 accomplished, I suppose I may bid you good, 
 night?" 
 
 " I regret, madame, that I must press the 
 Prince's request on your notice." 
 
 She sighed her usual impatient, petulant 
 little sigh. 
 
 " Oh, you are tiresome ! Pray go." 
 
 " I cannot go without you, madame." 
 
 " I am not going — and my establishment 
 does not admit of my entertaining gentle- 
 men," she said, with smiling effronter}'. 
 
 "Your Royal Highness refuses to allow 
 me to attend you to Glottenberg?" 
 
 " I order you to leave this room." 
 
 " Finally refuses?" 
 
 " Go." 
 
 " Then I must add that I am commissioned, 
 if necessary, to convey your Royal Highness 
 to Glottenberg," 
 
 " To convey me ?" • 
 
 I bowed. 
 
 " You dare to threaten me ?" 
 
 " I follow my instructions. Will you come, 
 madame, or — " 
 
 " Well ?"
 
 67 ^ 
 
 *' Will you be taken?" 
 
 I was not surprised at her vexation. Du- 
 mergue had, in his haste, called her " a little 
 devil." She looked it then. 
 
 " You mean," she asked slowly, " that you 
 will use force?" 
 
 I bowed. 
 
 " Then I yield," she said after a pause. 
 
 I called the maid, and told her to order the 
 carriage in five minutes. The silence was 
 unbroken till it came round. The Princess 
 went into her room, and returned in cloak 
 and hat, carrying a large muff. She was 
 smiling. 
 
 " Ah, Mr. Jason, what can a woman do 
 against men? I am ready. We will go 
 alone. The servants can follow." 
 
 I handed her into the coach, ordering the 
 coachman to drive fast. He was the only 
 man with us, and we were alone inside. 
 
 I began, perhaps stupidly, to apologize for 
 my peremptory conduct. The Princess 
 smiled amiably. 
 
 " I like a man of resolution," she said, edg- 
 ing, I thought, a trifle nearer me, her hands 
 nestling in her muff. 
 
 Apparently she was going to try the efTect 
 of amiability. I was prepared for this. She 
 would n(jt tempt me in that way.
 
 68 
 
 **YourRo3'al Highness is most forgiving-. 
 
 "Oh, that is my way," she answered, with 
 the kindest possible glance, and she came 
 nearer still. 
 
 " You are a most generous foe." 
 
 She turned to me with a dazzling smile. 
 
 " Don't say foe," she said, with a pretty 
 lingering on the last word. And as she said 
 it, I felt a knife driven hard into my ribs, and 
 the muff dropped to the ground. 
 
 " God in heaven !" I cried. 
 
 The Princess flung herself into the corner 
 of the carriage. 
 
 " Ha — ha — ha ! Ha — ha — ha !" she laughed, 
 merrily, musically, fiendishly. 
 
 I tried to clutch her, I believe I should have 
 killed her, I was half mad. But the blood 
 was oozing fast from the wound — only the 
 knife itself held my life in. Things danced 
 before my eyes, and my hands fell on my 
 lap. 
 
 The carriage stopped, the door opened, and 
 the coachman appeared. It was all like a 
 dream to me. 
 
 "Take his feet," said the Princess. The 
 man obeyed, and between them they lifted, or, 
 rather, hauled and pushed, me out of the 
 carriage, and laid me by the roadside. I was 
 almost in a faint, and the last thing I was con-
 
 69 
 
 scious of was a pretty mocking mouth, which 
 said : 
 
 "Won't you escort me, Mr. Jason?" — and 
 then added to the coachman, " To Glotten- 
 berg — quick!" 
 
 I did not die. I was picked up by some 
 good folk, and well tended. Dumergue 
 arrived and looked after me, and in a couple 
 of weeks 1 was on my legs. 
 
 " Now for Glottenberg !" said I. 
 
 Dumergue shook his head. 
 
 " You won't be admitted to the town." 
 
 *' Not admitted !" 
 
 " No. They have made it up — for the 
 time. There must be no scandal. Come, 
 Jason, surely you see that?" 
 
 "She tried to murder me." 
 
 " Oh, quite, quite," said he. *' But you 
 can't prosecute her." 
 
 "And I am to be turned adrift by the 
 Prince?" 
 
 " What use would it be to return ? No 
 doubt you annoyed her very much." 
 
 " I wish you. had undertaken the job." 
 
 " I know her. I should have ridden out- 
 side." 
 
 " It is, then, the Prince's wish that I should 
 not return ?"
 
 70 
 
 " Yes. But he charges me to say that he 
 will never forget your friendly services." 
 
 I was disgusted. But I would force myself 
 on no man. 
 
 " Then I'll go home." 
 
 " That will be much best," he answered, 
 with revolting alacrity. 
 
 " I say, Dumergue, what does the Princess 
 say about me ?" 
 
 " She laughs every time your name is men- 
 tioned, and — " 
 
 ''The devil take her!" 
 
 " She says you may keep the knife !" 
 
 I have it still, a little tortoise-shell handled 
 thing, with a sharp — a very sharp — point. 
 On the blade is engraved, in German letters, 
 *' Sophia." It is a pretty toy, and in its 
 delicacy, its tininess, its elegance, its seeming 
 harmlessness, and its very sharp point, it 
 reminds me much of Princess Ferdinand of 
 Glottenberg.
 
 A TRAGEDY IN OUTLINE. 
 
 I. 
 
 Dear Mr. Brown,— * * * *_ 
 
 Yours sincerely, 
 
 M. Robinson. 
 
 II. 
 
 My dear Mr. Brown,— ^ ♦ * *__ 
 Always yours very sincerely, 
 
 Minnie Robinson. 
 
 III. 
 
 My dear— Jack (!) — * * * *_ 
 Yours always, 
 
 Minnie Robinson. 
 
 [71]
 
 72 
 
 IV. 
 
 My dearest Jack, — * * * * — 
 
 Yours, 
 
 Minnie. 
 
 V. 
 
 My darling Jack, — * * * * — 
 
 Lovingly, your — 
 
 MiN. 
 
 VI. 
 
 My dearest Jack, — * * * * — 
 
 Lovingly, 
 
 Minnie. 
 
 VIL 
 
 My dear Jack, — * * * * — 
 
 With love, 
 
 Yours, 
 Minnie.
 
 73 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Dear Jack,— * * * * — 
 
 Ever yours, 
 
 Minnie Robinson. 
 
 IX. 
 
 My dear Mr. Brown,— * * * * — 
 Your sincere friend, 
 
 Minnie Robinson. 
 
 X. 
 
 Dear Mr. Brown,— * * * * 
 
 Yours sincerely, 
 
 M. Robinson. 
 
 XI. 
 Silence.
 
 A MAL-A-PROPOS PARENT. 
 
 Young Mr. Pippitt had a father somewhere 
 in America. Every one who knew young 
 Mr. Pippitt knew that ; for he had often 
 spoken of his father, of the fortune he was 
 making, and of the liberal presents he sent 
 home. Then came a time when young Mr. 
 Pippitt said less about his father and less 
 about the presents. Thus it was that people 
 had almost forgotten the existence of old 
 Mr. Pippitt, when it was recalled to their 
 memories in a very startling and tragical 
 way. Old Mr. Pippitt had landed in England 
 and was on his way to London, when he was 
 killed in a great railway disaster. His name, 
 discovered from a letter in his pocket, was 
 published ; and young Mr. Pippitt flew to the 
 scene. The body was not mangled or dis- 
 figured, and after one moment of extreme 
 agitation the bereaved son informed the offi- 
 cial who had led him to where the dead man 
 lay that it was indeed his father. His 
 [74]
 
 75 
 
 evidence before the coroner put the matter 
 beyond doubt. Mr. Pippitt buried his father, 
 assumed deep mourning-, and wrote to the 
 company's solicitors. Repugnant as it was 
 to him to appear to make money out of the 
 unhappy occurrence, the loss of a rich and 
 liberal parent was a matter which no strug- 
 gling young man could, in justice to himself, 
 submit to without compensation. 
 
 Railway companies, having an extensive 
 experience of humanity, are prone to scepti- 
 cism ; and very many inquiries were made as 
 to the life, doings, profession, and profits of 
 old Mr. Pippitt, and especially as to his 
 alleged remittances to his son. That gentle- 
 man stood the fire of questions very success- 
 fully ; he had letters from his father up to 
 within six months of the accident, and he 
 proved the receipt of very considerable 
 yearly sums, in each of the four years during 
 which his father had been absent. In face of 
 this evidence, the matter in issue reduced 
 itself to a difference of opinion between the 
 company and young Mr. Pippitt ; first, as to 
 the probability of old Mr. Pippitt continuing 
 to make money, secondly, as to the proba- 
 bility of his continuing to share what he made 
 with his son. More concretely still, the com- 
 pany, without prejudice, offered two thou-
 
 76 
 
 sand pounds, and Mr. Pippitt, 'without pre- 
 judice, asked seven thousand ; whereupon 
 the case was entered for trial. 
 
 Mr. Naylor, the company's counsel, de- 
 clared that young Mr. Pippitt was one of the 
 best witnesses he had ever seen. His de- 
 meanor was excellent, his facts irrefragable, 
 his memory neither unnaturally bad nor 
 suspiciously good. The last letter he pro- 
 duced from his father enclosed a draft for 
 three hundred pounds, and announced the 
 writer's return on a business visit by the next 
 mail but one. By that mail, a gentleman of 
 the name of Pippitt had crossed the ocean, 
 and had presumably taken the train on 
 landing, and met his death in the accident. 
 Mr. Naylor felt his case was so bad that he 
 almost charged young Mr. Pippitt with 
 direct perjury, and twisted up a note to Mr* 
 Budge, who was on the other side, offering 
 four thousand pounds and costs. Mr. Budge 
 answered that he must consult his client, and 
 that he would wait till the end of the plain, 
 tiff's evidence. Mr. Naylor nodded, and re- 
 doubled his insinuations of an unscrupulous 
 conspiracy. 
 
 Mr. Budge rose to re-examine with a smile 
 on his face. Mr. Pippitt said he had no 
 reason to anticipate a falling-off in his lather's
 
 17 
 
 business ; it was well established ; nor in his 
 father's liberality; his father had always led 
 him to suppose that he would provide for 
 him. Yes, there was a strong — yes, a very 
 strong affection between them. Here Mr. 
 Pippitt's voice faltered ; the judge nodded 
 sympathetically; and the foreman of the jury 
 wrote " ^5,000 ?" on a slip of paper and passed 
 it round the box. 
 
 That artistic falter produced another effect 
 also. The gangways of the court were 
 crowded with the usual throng of idle folk, 
 assembled to hear Mr. Naylor's cross-examina- 
 tion ; and as the plaintiff bore witness to the 
 bonds of love which bound him to his father, 
 there came from the recesses of the crowd a 
 voice which said : 
 
 *' That there is ! Let me through ! Who's 
 saying my boy doesn't love his old father?" 
 
 The group of people parted ; and an elderly 
 man came to the front, advancing in an un- 
 certain, apologetic manner. 
 
 "Silence! silence!" cried the usher, a 
 world of pained indignation in his accents. 
 
 "You mustn't disturb * the court, sir!" 
 thundered the judge. 
 
 " I came to speak a word for Joe. I was 
 passing, and dropped in, and, seeing Joe, I
 
 78 
 
 made bold to speak. He's been a good son, 
 has Joe." 
 
 The judge looked appealingly at counsel. 
 
 "Who is Joe, and who is this person?" 
 And getting no answer, he turned to the 
 plaintiff. Young Mr. Pippitt met his eye 
 with an uneasy smile. 
 
 " I haven't the least idea, my lord," he said. 
 
 The judge looked at the writ. 
 
 "Your name is Joseph ?" he asked. 
 
 " No, it — yes — that is, certainly, my lord." 
 
 " You don't seem very sure, sir," remarked 
 the judge ; and he added, addressing the 
 intruder, " Who are you, sir?" 
 
 The old man seemed in a nervous and 
 broken-down condition ; but he stammered 
 out, " He's my son, my lord." 
 
 " It's a lie," cried young Mr. Pippitt. 
 
 "Hold your tongue till you're asked to 
 speak," said his lordship snappishly. " I 
 want to hear what this man has to say." 
 
 The old man had much to saj' ; much of 
 young Mr. Pippitt's virtue, industry, and 
 affection ; and much of his own fortunes, mis- 
 fortunes, and wrongs. He usurped the 
 functions of both lawyer and witness, and all 
 the court listened to him. 
 
 " Pm glad to be here, gentlemen," he said 
 — " glad to be here. I thought I was never
 
 79 
 
 going to get out of that cell they put me in, 
 not for long years. But here I am, Joe, 
 thank God !" 
 
 " Who put you in a cell ?" asked the judge. 
 
 " I'm telling you as fast as I can," an- 
 swered the old man petulantly. " I'd just 
 written to Joe to send him a bit of money 
 and tell him to look out for me, when they 
 brought a charge of fraud against me — 
 against me, a respectable merchant. And I 
 was tried : tried and found guilty — unjustly, 
 my lord — and sentenced to five years. To 
 think of it ! They didn't know me out in 
 Louisiana ; no east-coast jury would have 
 convicted." 
 
 " Why didn't they know you ?" 
 
 " I wasn't going to have my name known. 
 I called m3'self Brown ; and they convicted 
 me — as I wrote to you, Joe — for five years. 
 But the Governor did his duty. He was a 
 white man, the Governor. He let me out." 
 
 " Why ?" asked the judge curiously. 
 
 " Was a white man to get five years for 
 besting a nigger?" demanded the old man 
 with his first approach to vigor. " Not if 
 the Governor knew it ! Oh, he was a white 
 man. So here I am, Joe — here I am, thank 
 God !" 
 
 The judge leant forward and asked.
 
 8o 
 
 *' Hav^e you any letters from the man you say 
 is your son?" 
 
 The old man pulled a dirty letter out of 
 his pocket, and handed it up with a bewil- 
 dered look. 
 
 Young- Mr. Pippitt still looked on with his 
 fixed smile, while the judge read: — 
 
 " Dear Father, 
 
 " It's a bad job that you're nabbed. 
 Five years is no joke. Why were you such 
 a fool? You were right about the name. 
 Keep it quite dark, for God's sake ! I'll see 
 what I can do. 
 
 " Yours, 
 
 " J. P. 
 
 " Received your last all right." 
 
 "Is that your handwriting?" the judge 
 asked of the plaintiff; but young Mr. Pippitt 
 swayed to and fro and fell in a faint in the 
 witness-box. The judge turned to Mr. 
 Budge. 
 
 " Do you desire," he asked, " that this man 
 should be sworn, and repeat his evidence on 
 oath, so that you may cross-examine him ?" 
 
 Mr. Budge looked at his inanimate client, 
 and answered, " L do not, my lord. I shall
 
 8i 
 
 probably have your lordship's approval in 
 withdrawing from the case?" 
 
 While the judge directed the jury to 
 return a verdict for the defendant, the old 
 man had anxiously watched the usher, who 
 was unloosing young Mr. Pippitt's neckcloth. 
 When the plaintiff revived, the old man leant 
 over to Mr. Budge, and said, with a pleased 
 smile, " Oh, he'll be all right directly, won't 
 he? I thought 1 could help a bit. I have 
 helped a bit, haven't I ?" 
 
 " You've helped him to twelve months' 
 hard labor," said Mr. Budge. • 
 
 But the old man did not understand what 
 it all meant, till one day they took him to 
 Kensal Green, and showed him a handsome 
 tombstone. The inscription ran : — 
 
 ♦* In Memory of James Pippitt — " 
 
 The old man read and laughed. 
 "To think of that!" he said. "It beats 
 everything !" 
 
 He read on with a chuckle — 
 
 " Erected by his sorrowing son, Joseph 
 Pippitt. Born 13th December, 1821. Died 
 5th February, 1891. ' I shall go to him, but 
 he shall not return to me.' "
 
 82 
 
 This prophecy might or might not be true 
 of the person interred beneath the tombstone. 
 On its unfortunate inapplicability to his 
 father, and on the tainting of the fountain of 
 Louisiana justice, young Mr. Pippitt enjoyed 
 twelve months' quiet reflection.
 
 HOW THEY STOPPED THE " RUN." 
 
 There was a run on the Sandhill and Dis- 
 trict Bank. It had lasted the whole of one 
 day, and had shown no signs of abating in 
 the evening. If it lasted another day ! Old 
 Mr. Bradshaw wiped his brow. It had come 
 just at the awkwardest time — just after the 
 farmers had got their usual loans, just when 
 securities were hard to realize ; in fact, just 
 at the moment when the bank, though in 
 reality solvent, was emphatically not in a 
 position to answer a long-continued demand 
 for payment on the spot. Mr. Bradshaw 
 groaned out all these distressing facts to his 
 son Dick. It was, indeed, no use talking to 
 Dick, for he took no interest in business, and 
 had spent the day in a boat with the Flirting- 
 ton girls ; still, Mr. Bradshaw was bound to 
 talk to some one. 
 
 " We shall have to put the shutters up. 
 One day's grace would save us, I believe ; 
 we could get the money then. But if they're 
 
 [83]
 
 84 
 
 at us again to-morrow morning we can't last 
 two hours." 
 
 Dick sympathized, but had nothing to sug- 
 gest, except that it would not make matters 
 worse if he carried out his engagement to go 
 to the circus with the Flirtington girls. 
 
 " Oh, go to h — II with the Flirtington girls 
 if you like," groaned Mr. Bradshaw. 
 
 So Dick went — to the circus (the other 
 expedition, as he observed, would keep), and 
 enjoyed the performance very much, espe- 
 cially the lion-taming, which was magnificent, 
 and so impressed Dick that he deserted his 
 companions, went behind the scenes, and in- 
 sisted on standing Signor Philippini several 
 glasses. 
 
 "Is that big chap quite safe?" he asked, 
 admiringly. 
 
 " /can do anythink with 'im," said the Sig- 
 nor (whose English was naturally defective); 
 *' but with any one helse 'e's a roarer, 'e is, 
 and no mistake." 
 
 After the performance, Dick took the Flirt- 
 ington girls home ; thqn, with a thoughtful 
 look on his face, he went and had some talk 
 with his father, and came away, carefully 
 placing a roll of notes in his breast-pocket. 
 Then he sought Signor Philippini's society 
 once more. And that's all that is really
 
 85 "» 
 
 known about it — if, that is, we discard the 
 obviously fanciful statement of Fanny Flirt- 
 ington, that, as she was gazing at the moon 
 about two A. M., she saw a heavy wagon, 
 drawn by two horses and driven by Signor 
 Fhilippini, pass along the streets in the direc- 
 tion of the bank. She must have been wrong ; 
 for Fhilippini, by the evidence of his Signora 
 (whose name, notwithstanding that Fhilip- 
 pini's morals were perfectly correct, was Mrs. 
 Buggins), went to bed at eleven-thirty, and 
 snored like a pig all night. 
 
 However these things may be, this is what 
 happened next morning. When the first of 
 the depositors arrived at seven A. M., they 
 found one of the windows of the bank smashed 
 to pieces and the shutter hanging loose. A 
 cry went up that there had been a robbery, 
 and one or two men began to climb in. They 
 did not get far before a fearful roar proceeded 
 from the neighborhood of the counter. They 
 looked at one another, and said it would be 
 more regular to wait for the officials. The 
 roars continued. They sent for Mr. Brad- 
 shaw. Hardly had he arrived (accompanied 
 by Dick, breathless and in shirt-sleeves) 
 before the backmost rows of the now consid- 
 erable crowd became agitated with a new 
 sensation. The news spread rapidly. Frantic
 
 86 
 
 men ran to and fro ; several ladies fainted ; 
 the circus-proprietor was sent for. A lion 
 had escaped from the menagerie, and was 
 supposed to be at large in the town ! 
 
 " Send for Philippini !" cried the proprietor. 
 They did so. Philippini had started early for 
 a picnic in the country, and would not return 
 till just before the performance in the even- 
 ing. The proprietor was in despair. 
 
 " Where's the beast gone to ?" he cried. 
 
 A roar from the bank answered his ques- 
 tion. 
 
 " Well, I'm blowed if he's not in the bank !" 
 exclaimed the proprietor. 
 
 It certainly appeared to be the fact that 
 Atlas (that was the lion's name) had taken 
 refuge in the bank, and was in full possession 
 of the premises and assets. Under these 
 circumstances there was, Mr. Bradshaw 
 explained, a difficulty in resuming cash 
 payments ; but if his check would be 
 accepted — The crowd roared almost as 
 loud as Atlas at such an idea. Something 
 must be done. They sent for the mayor ; he 
 repudiated liability. They sent for the fire 
 brigade and the lifeboat crew ; neither would 
 come. They got guns, and peppered the 
 furniture. Atlas retired behind the fireproof 
 safe and roared worse than ever. Meanwhile
 
 87 ' 
 
 the precious hours were passing. Mr. Brad- 
 shaw's money was also on its way from Lon- 
 don. At last Dick took a noble resolution. 
 
 " I will go in at any cost," he cried ; and, 
 in spite of Fanny Flirtington's tears, he scaled 
 the window and disappeared from view. The 
 crowd waited to hear Atlas scrunching ; but 
 he only roared. When Dick was inside, he 
 paused and asked in a low voice, " Is he 
 chained?" 
 
 " Yes," answered Signor Philippini from 
 behind the safe. " Is the Aunt Sally business 
 over ?" and he came out with a long pole in 
 his hand. He used the pole to stir poor 
 Atlas up when the roars became deficient in 
 quantity or quality. 
 
 " The money ought to be here in three 
 hours," said Dick. " Have you got the back- 
 door key ?" • 
 
 Philippini reassured him. Then Dick took 
 a wild, running leap at the window ; Philip- 
 pini stirred up Atlas, who roared lustily. 
 Dick escaped with his life, and landed, a 
 breathless heap, at the mayor's feet. The 
 mayor raised him, and said he should write 
 to her Majesty, and suggest that Dick would 
 be a proper recipient of the Albert Medal, 
 and the vicar (who had no money in the bank) 
 indignantly asked the crowd if they could
 
 88 
 
 not trust a family which produced scions like 
 that. Several people cried "Hear, hear!" 
 and told Mr. Bradshaw that they never really 
 meant to withdraw their deposits. Mr. Brad- 
 shaw thanked them, and looked at his watch. 
 
 At half-past three Philippini ran up ; he 
 also was breathless, and his shoes were dusty 
 from walking in the country. At once he 
 effected an entry, amid a scene of great 
 excitement. A moment later he appeared at 
 the window, and cried in a terror-stricken 
 voice : 
 
 . " I can't 'old 'im ! I can't 'old 'im ! 'E's 
 mad ! Look out for yourselves !" and he 
 leapt from the window. 
 
 The crowd fled in all directions, and two 
 boys were all but run over by a cart which 
 was being driven rapidly from the railway 
 station to the bank. 
 
 " All right," said Dick to the Signor ; 
 "bring up the wagon." And then, with great 
 difficulty and consummate courage, the 
 Signor and Dick brought an iron cage up to 
 the window, and drove Atlas in. The opera- 
 tion took more than an hour, because they 
 had to feed Atlas and drink a bottle of 
 champagne themselves before they set about 
 it. So that it was six o'clock before Atlas 
 was out, and the money was in, and the Sand-
 
 89 
 
 hill and District Bank opened its doors for 
 business. 
 
 '* We gained just the time we needed," said 
 Mr. Bradshaw. " It was dirt-cheap at fifty 
 pounds !" 
 
 And Dick, although he did not get the 
 Albert Medal, was taken into partnership, 
 and married Fanny Flirtington. It was the 
 only way of preventing her seeing things 
 she was not meant to see out of the window 
 at two A. M. and chattering about them in 
 public.
 
 A LITTLE JOKE. 
 
 A DAY or two before Easter, I was sitting' 
 in my office, finishing up some scraps of 
 work, and ever and anon casting happy 
 glances at my portmanteau, which stood in 
 the corner. I was just off to spend a fort- 
 night with my old friend Colonel Gunton, in 
 Norfolk, and I was looking forward to seeing 
 him again with great pleasure. We had not 
 met for ten years, and I had never been to 
 his place or seen any of his family. It would 
 be delightful. 
 
 The telephone bell rang. 
 
 " Oh, confound it ! I hope that's nothing 
 to keep me !" I exclaimed ; and I rose to see 
 to it. 
 
 " Mr. Miller ? Are you there ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "All right. I'll come round." 
 
 " A few minutes passed, and then my clerk 
 announced, " A lady to see you, sir." 
 
 A remarkably pretty girl of about eighteen 
 
 [90]
 
 91 
 
 was ushered in. She stood still some way 
 from me till the door was closed. Then she 
 suddenly rushed toward me, fell at my feet, 
 and exclaimed, " You will protect me, won't 
 you ?" 
 
 "My .dear young lady, what in the 
 world—?" 
 
 " You're the famous Mr. Miller, aren't you ? 
 Mr. Joseph Miller, the philanthropist?" 
 
 " My name is Joseph Miller, certainly." 
 
 " Ah I Then I am safe ;" and she sat down 
 in an armchair, and smiled confidingly at me^ 
 
 "Madame," said I, sternly, " will you have 
 the goodness to explain to what I owe the 
 pleasure of this visit?" 
 
 " They told me to come to you." 
 
 "Who?" 
 
 " Wh}', the people at the police station."' 
 
 "The police station?" 
 
 " Yes, when they let me go — because it 
 was a first offense, you know. The}' said 
 you always took up cases like mine, and that 
 if I stuck to you I should be well looked 
 after." 
 
 It was quite true that I have taken ar» 
 interest in rescuing young persons from 
 becoming habitual criminals; but I waa 
 hardly prepared for this. 
 
 " What have you been doing?"
 
 92 
 
 " Oh, nothing this time — only a bracelet." 
 
 *'This time?" 
 
 " They didn't know me up here," she 
 explained, smilingly. " I've always practised 
 in the country. Wasn't it lucky ? But 
 really, Mr. Miller, I'm tired of it ; I am 
 indeed. The life is too exciting ; the doctors 
 say so ; so I've come to you." 
 
 The case was a strange one, but I had no 
 time to investigate it now. It wanted only 
 half an hour to the time my train left Liver- 
 pool street. 
 
 " What is your name?" I asked. 
 
 ** Sarah Jones." 
 
 " Well, I will have your case looked into. 
 Come and see me again; or, if you are in 
 distress, you may write to me — at Cohmel 
 Gunton's, Beech Hill, Norfolk. I shall be 
 staying there — " 
 
 " Going now ?" 
 
 " I start in a few minutes." 
 
 *' Oh, I'll come with vou." 
 
 " Madame," I answered, with emphasis, "I 
 will see you — out of the office first." 
 
 " But what am I to do ? Oh, it's nonsense ! 
 I shall come. I shall say I belong to you." 
 
 I rang the bell. 
 
 " Show this lady out, Thomas, at once." 
 
 She laughed, bowed, and went. Evidently
 
 93 
 
 a most impudent hussy. I finished my busi- 
 ness, drove to Liverpool street, and estab- 
 lished myself in a first-class smoking carriage. 
 1 was alone, and settled myself for a com- 
 fortable cigar. I was rudely interrupted. 
 Just as the train was starting, the door opened 
 — and that odious young woman jumped in. 
 
 " There ! I nearly missed you !" she said. 
 
 " I can hold no communication with you," 
 said I, severely ; " you are a disgrace to your 
 — er — sex." 
 
 " It's all right. I've wired to the Colonel." 
 
 "You've wired to my friend, Colonel 
 Gunton ?" 
 
 " Yes, I didn't want to surprise them. I 
 said you would bring a friend with you. It's 
 all right, Mr. Miller." 
 
 " I don't know who you are or what you 
 are ; but the Guntons are respectable people, 
 and I am a respectable man, and — " 
 
 " That's no reason why you should prome- 
 nade up and down, Mr. Miller. It's very 
 uncomfortable for me." 
 
 " What is the meaning of this insolent 
 behavior ?" 
 
 " Why not be friendly ? We're off now. 
 and I must go on." 
 
 " I shall give you in charge at the next 
 station."
 
 94 
 
 " What for ?" 
 
 On reflection, I supposed she had committed 
 no criminal offense ; and with a dignified air 
 I opened my paper. 
 
 "I don't mind your smoking," she said, and 
 took out a box of chocohites. 
 
 *' I was at my wit's end. Either this girl 
 was mad or she was a dangerous and un- 
 scrupulous person. She was quite capable of 
 making a most unpleasant and discreditable 
 commotion on the platform at Beech Hill 
 Station. What in the world was I to do? 
 
 " Shall we stay long at the Gunton's?" she 
 asked. 
 
 " You, madame, will never go there." 
 
 " Oh, yes, I shall." 
 
 " Indeed you won't. I'll take care of that. 
 The police will see to that." 
 
 " I don't care a fig for the police. I shall 
 go and stay as long as you do. They told 
 me to stick to you." 
 
 I became angry. Any man would have. 
 But nothing was to be gained by losing my 
 temper. I took out a sovereign. 
 
 "If you'll get out at the next station, I'll 
 give you this." 
 
 She laughed merrily. 
 
 " 1 thought you went in for personal super- 
 vision, not mere pecuniary doles," she said.
 
 95 
 
 " I read that in your speech at the Charity 
 Organization meeting. No ; I'm not to be 
 bribed. I'm going to the Gunton's." 
 
 " It's absurd. It's preposterous. What 
 will — what will Mrs. Gunton say?" 
 
 " Oh, she won't mind," answered my com- 
 panion, with a confident nod. " She's used 
 to girls like me." 
 
 " You surprise me," I retorted, sarcastically; 
 but she only laughed again. 
 
 I returned to my paper. 
 
 An hour passed in silence. The train 
 began to slacken speed as we neared the 
 station next before Beech Hill. She looked 
 up and said : 
 
 "Would you really rather I didn't come 
 with you ?" 
 
 I had passed a wretched hour. This girl 
 was evidently bent on blasting my charac- 
 ter. 
 
 " Madame," said I, " if you will get out at 
 this station, I'll give you a five-pound note." 
 
 "What? I heard you never gave away a 
 farthing! They said no one could get a 
 penny out of you." 
 
 " It is true that I disapprove of indis- 
 criminate charity ; but, under the circum- 
 stances, I — "
 
 90 
 
 " Think I am a deserving object ? Well, I'll 
 take it." 
 
 With a sigh of relief, I took a note from my 
 pocket-book, and gave it her. 
 
 " I'll pay it back soon," she said. 
 
 " Never let me see your face again." 
 
 " Apologize for me to the Guntons. 
 Good-by." 
 
 She jumped out lightly, and I sank back 
 murmuring : 
 
 " Thank Heaven !" 
 
 After I got rid of her, my journey was 
 peaceful and happy, and I forgot my troubles 
 in the warm greeting my old friend Bob 
 Gunton and his wife gave me. The girl 
 must have lied about the telegram ; at least, 
 Bob made no reference to it. He had a fine 
 family of boys and girls, and presented them 
 to me with natural pride. 
 
 *' That's my lot — except Addie. She's 
 gone to see some friends ; but we expect her 
 back every minute. They keep me alive, I 
 can tell you. Miller." 
 
 After tea, my host and hostess insisted on 
 taking me for a stroll on the terrace. It was 
 a beautiful evening, and I did not mind the 
 cold. As we were talking together, I heard 
 the rumble of wheels. An omnibus stopped 
 at the gate.
 
 97 
 
 " Ah, the 'bus," said Gunton ; " it runs be- 
 tween here and our market-town." 
 
 I hardly heard him ; for, to my horror, I 
 saw, descending from the 'bus and opening 
 the gate, that girl ! 
 
 " Send her away !" I cried ; " send her 
 away ! On my honor, Bob, as a gentleman, 
 I know nothing about her." 
 
 " Why, what's the matter?" 
 
 " 1 solemnly assure Mrs. Gunton and your- 
 self that—" 
 
 " What's the matter with the man ? What's 
 he talking about ?" 
 
 " Why, Bob, that girl — that barefaced 
 girl !" 
 
 " That girl ! Why, that's my daughter 
 Addie !" 
 
 " Your daughter ?" 
 
 The little minx walked up to me with a 
 smile, dropped a little courtsey, and said : 
 
 " I knew, Mr. Miller, that it wasn't true that 
 you would refuse help to a really deserving 
 case. The others said you would ; but I 
 thought better of you." 
 
 And she had the effrontery, then and there, 
 to tell her parents all about it ! 
 
 I think parents are the most infatuated 
 class of persons in vne community. They 
 laughed, and Mrs. Gunton said, " How clever
 
 98 
 
 of you, Addie ! You must forgive her, Mr, 
 Miller. My dear girls are so playful !" 
 
 Playful I And she never returned the five- 
 pound note !
 
 A GUARDIAN OF MORALITY. 
 
 Miss Tabitha Grey had not reached the 
 age of forty-five years without acquiring an 
 extensive and unfavorable knowledge of her 
 own sex. Men were wicked ; Miss Grey ad- 
 mitted and deplored the fact, but it was so 
 much in the order of nature that she had 
 almost ceased to cavil at it. But that women 
 should be wicked ! Here Miss Grey's toler- 
 ation gave out. And so many women, espe- 
 cially young women, and more especially 
 pretty young women, were wicked. It was 
 atrocious. Entertaining this general opinion, 
 Miss Grey, as a matter of course, held Mag- 
 gie Lester in the utmost detestation. The 
 Waterfall Hotel was, in fact, hardly large 
 enough to contain, in any comfort. Miss Grey 
 on the one hand and on the other Maggie 
 Lester, her brother Charles, and their friend 
 and traveling companion. Captain Petrie. It 
 is true that the feeling of discomfort was en-
 
 100 
 
 tirely confined to Miss Grey. The young' 
 people were very civil to her when any one 
 of them happened to be next her at table- 
 dlwte, and at other times thought nothing 
 about her; but Miss Grey endured agonies 
 enough for an hotel-full of people. She shud- 
 dered at Maggie's striped waistcoat and 
 white sailor's knot with its golden pin, at her 
 brown boots, at her love of long and hard 
 rides, at her not unfrequent slang ; above all 
 at the terms of hearty and familiar camara- 
 derie on which she thought fit to conduct her 
 acquaintance with Captain Petrie. The de- 
 corum of literature forbids that Miss Grey's 
 inmost suspicions should be put in writing ; 
 it must suffice to say that they were very dark 
 indeed — so dark that all the other ladies, to 
 whom Miss Grey repeated them, could not 
 but come to the conclusion that there must 
 be some truth in them. 
 
 One morning, after breakfast, Miss Grey 
 took her knitting and the Church Times and 
 sat down in the verandah. A moment later, 
 to her disgust, Charlie Lester and Captain 
 Petrie came out of the breakfast-room, lit 
 their pipes, and, after a polite " Good morn- 
 ing," took their seats a few yards from her. 
 Miss Gre}'- sniffed the tobacco-tainted air, and 
 was about to rise and ostentatiouslv remove
 
 lOI 
 
 herself from the infected zone, when she 
 heard a scrap of conversation between the 
 two young men which entirely altered her 
 determination. She sat still and listened with 
 all her might. 
 
 " I wonder when Maggie will be down," 
 said Lester ; " I want to tell her." 
 
 " Oh, you're too late," said Petrie ; " I've 
 told her." 
 
 " What, have you seen her?" 
 
 " Yes. I knew she'd like to know, so I 
 went outside her door five minutes ago and 
 shouted what we'd heard, and she came out 
 directly." 
 
 " Had she anything on ?" inquired Lester, 
 in an interested tone. 
 
 "No," responded Captain Petrie; "but 
 that made no difference." 
 
 " It would to me," said Lester, with a 
 smile. 
 
 " And to me," said the captain ; " but it 
 didn't to her. I reminded her of it, and she 
 said that it made no odds — she wanted to 
 hear all I knew directly. So we stood in the 
 passage, and — " 
 
 Miss Grey had been gradually becoming 
 more and more horrified. She had been 
 prepared for a good deal, but this was too 
 much. And the creature's own brother list-
 
 102 
 
 ened to it ! Her knitting fell from her grasp, 
 and the needles jangled on the tiled floor. 
 The Captain hastened to pick them up, inter- 
 rupting his narrative for that purpose; but 
 Miss Grey froze him with an awful look, and 
 strode into the house. 
 
 Miss Grey was a woman who never al- 
 lowed herself to be turned from the path of 
 duty, however painful that path might be to 
 others. She soon made up her mind as to 
 what she must do, and, having come to a 
 resolution, she laid the whole matter before 
 an informal committee of three irreproach- 
 able and austere matrons, whom she selected 
 from among her fellow-guests. The imme- 
 diate result of their conference was, that 
 when Maggie Lester, looking very fresh and 
 blooming after her morning gallop, came in 
 to luncheon and took her place at the table, 
 no fewer than four elderly ladies put down 
 their knives and forks, rose from their chairs, 
 and solemnly stalked out of the room. 
 
 " Hullo ! what's up ?" said Charlie Lester. 
 
 But nobody knew what was up ; and, to all 
 appearance, Maggie least of all, for she cheer- 
 fully began her lunch, merely remarking to 
 the Captain, as though in continuance of a 
 previous conversation: 
 
 " It wouldn't have been so bad if I'd had
 
 I03 
 
 anything — even the least little bit — on, would 
 it?" 
 
 " Ah, you ought to have put your boots 
 on," said the Captain, with a smile. 
 
 A fifth lady, sitting by, overheard these 
 remarks, and when, after lunch, Miss Grey 
 informed her of the startling occurrence oE 
 the morning, her testimony completed the 
 damning chain of evidence. They made a 
 joke of it ! What could the suggestion of 
 boots — only boots — be, except a vulgar, 
 shameless jest ? The ladies went in a body 
 to the proprietor, and intimated that either 
 they or the Lester party must forthwith 
 leave the hotel. The proprietor demanded 
 reasons ; cogent ; irrefragable reasons were 
 supplied by Miss Grey and the fifth lady — 
 reasons clothed, of course, in decorous lan- 
 guage, but unmistakably revealing the in- 
 famous conduct of Maggie Lester. 
 
 " I assure you, ladies," exclaimed the pro- 
 prietor, beads of perspiration standing on his 
 brow, " it's the first time such a thing has 
 ever occurred in my house." 
 
 " It must be the last," said Miss Grey, 
 firmly. 
 
 " I will act at once," declared the pro- 
 prietor. " This is a respectable house, and 
 such proceedings cannot be tolerated. Good
 
 104 
 
 gracious ! It would endanger my license !'* 
 
 " And your soul," said Miss Grey, sot. 
 emnly. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, miss ?" said the pro- 
 prietor. 
 
 *M«^your soul," repeated Miss Grey. 
 
 " Oh yes, to be sure — of course, my soul, 
 miss. As it was, I had a bother about it 
 last year — my license, I mean, miss. I'll go 
 to Mr. Lester at once." 
 
 The proprietor was a nervous, bashful man, 
 and when he found himself standing before 
 the Lesters and Captain Petrie, as they drank 
 their after-luncheon coffee, he was much 
 embarrassed. At last he managed to in- 
 dicate that he wished to speak to Mr. Lester 
 alone. 
 
 " Oh, nonsense !" said Charlie. " Go on. 
 What's the matter?" 
 
 The proprietor nerved himself for the 
 effort. After all, if these people were not 
 ashamed for themselves, why should he blush 
 for them ? Looking sternly at Charles, he 
 began to formulate his accusation. He had 
 not got far before Maggie gave a little shriek 
 of amazement ; and the Captain, jumping up, 
 seized him by the collar, and exclaimed : 
 
 "What do you mean, you little rascal? 
 What's this scandalous nonsense you've got
 
 105 
 
 hold of?" and the Captain shook his host 
 severely. 
 
 "lam not to be bullied, sir," said the pro- 
 prietor, stoutly. " I have excellent authority 
 for what I say, and — " 
 
 "Whose authority?" 
 
 The proprietor vouched Miss Grey and the 
 fifth lady. 
 
 " We must look into this," said the Cap- 
 tain. 
 
 Maggie, who was blushing severely, but 
 was not without a secret tendency to con- 
 vulsive laughter, was prevailed upon to 
 accompany them, and the four proceeded to 
 the drawing-room, where the Inquisition sat 
 enthroned on the sofa, Miss Grey presiding. 
 Miss Grey rose with a gesture of horror. 
 
 " Not gone yet?" she exclaimed. 
 
 " No, ma'am," said the Captain ; " we want 
 to hear your story first." 
 
 "Have you no shame?" demanded Miss 
 Grey of Maggie. 
 
 "Never mind that, ma'am," said the Cap- 
 tain ; " let's have the story first." 
 
 Miss Grey cast an appealing glance at the 
 ceiling, and began: — " With my own ears I 
 heard it. Mrs. Britson [Mrs. Britson was the 
 fifth lady] will confirm what I say. With 
 my own ears I heard Captain Petrie relate
 
 io6 
 
 to Mr. Lester — to this person's brother — 
 that he had had an interview with this per- 
 son when this person was entirely — " Miss 
 Grey paused for a moment, gathered her 
 courage, and added in an awestruck whisper, 
 *' disrobed." 
 
 A shudder ran through the audience. 
 The culprits' faces expressed real or simu- 
 lated astonishment. 
 
 "If I must put it plainly," pursued Miss 
 Grey — and at this several ladies opened their 
 fans and held them before their faces — 
 "Captain Petrie said that Miss Lester — that 
 person — had nothing on, and that when he 
 reminded her of it she stated that the cir- 
 cumstance was immaterial. Subsequently, 
 at luncheon, the young woman herself ad- 
 mitted the fact in the hearing of Mrs. Britson. 
 If that is not enough — " 
 
 It apparently was enough, for Charlie 
 Lester threw himself into an armchair 
 with a wild shriek of laughter. Maggie's 
 slight figure shook convulsively as she hid 
 her face in her handkerchief, and Captain 
 Petrie, after a moment's blank amazement, 
 cried out : 
 
 "By Jove! I've got -it. Oh! this beats 
 anything !" And he joined in virith a loud 
 gufifaw.
 
 I07 
 
 " Is that the way you treat such a — an 
 abominable — '' began Miss Grey, au- 
 sterely. 
 
 " Oh ! stop ; for heaven's sake stop ! " ex- 
 claimed the Captain ; "you'll be the death of 
 me, you reall}'^ will!" 
 
 Silence followed for a moment, and the 
 Captain, conquering his mirth, went on : " I 
 don't know if any of you ladies go in for 
 horse-racing. Probably not ; I'm sure Miss 
 Grey doesn't. Well, this morning I heard 
 that a horse of mine which is running in a 
 race to-day had done an exceptionally and 
 quite unexpectedly good trial — I mean, had 
 proved a far faster runner than we had sup- 
 posed. In fact, there was little doubt that 
 he would win the race. Sometimes, ladies, 
 I am wicked enough to bet. Occasionally 
 Charlie Lester is equally wicked. Now and 
 then Miss Lester yields to that vice. Well, 
 as you know, we are far from a telegraph 
 here ; and we were much annoyed, Charlie 
 and I, that we could not take advantage of 
 our fresh information to bet on the horse — to 
 put something on, as we say. Miss Lester 
 regretted also, when I told her the news, that 
 she had nothing on — the horse. Do you be- 
 gin to understand, ladies ?" 
 
 The ladies glanced at one another in some
 
 io8 
 
 confusion. Miss Grey looked angry and sus- 
 picious. 
 
 " And the boots?" she said. 
 
 " To put your boots on a horse," explained 
 the Captain, politely, " is a slang expression 
 for betting your entire available fortune on 
 his success. Another expression is to put 
 your shirt — " 
 
 " Sir !" said Miss Grey. 
 
 But Miss Grey's sway was ended. Maggie 
 burst into a fresh fit of laughter, and, after a 
 moment's pause, the whole company followed 
 suit. Miss Grey turned and left the room. 
 The next day she left the hotel ; she could not 
 face her victorious foes. Captain Petrie 
 insisted on handing her into the omnibus, say- 
 ing as he did so, " Be easy, my dear madam. 
 In future it shall be my care to see that Miss 
 Lester has something on."
 
 " When Maggie Lester came in after lier nioriiiiig gallop, 
 no less than four elderly ladies put down their knives 
 and forks."
 
 NOT A BAD DEAL. 
 
 The little volume of verses entitled, *' To 
 Lalage," made quite a stir in the literary 
 vrorld. One critic of note said that it was 
 instinct with classic grace ; another that it 
 was informed b}' the true spirit of Hellas ; 
 a third that it had a whiff of Hymettus; a 
 fourth that it was hardly suitable for family 
 reading; and on the strength of all this laud- 
 ation, " To Lalage " was a success, and several 
 copies were bond fide sold to complete stran- 
 gers. Imagine, then, the bitterness of heart 
 with which Adrian Pottles, the gifted author, 
 saw himself compelled to maintain strict 
 anonymity, and to conceal from a world 
 thirsting to know him that he was the " A. P." 
 whose initials appeared in Old English letters 
 on the title-page. Yet he did not hesitate ; 
 for he knew that if his uncle, Mr. Thomas 
 Pottleg, of Clapham Common, discovered that 
 he wrote not only verses, which was bad, but 
 
 [109]
 
 no 
 
 amatory verses, which was atrocious, hijt 
 means of present livelihood and prospects of 
 future affluence would vanish into thin air. 
 For Mr. Pottles was a man of strict views; 
 and, whether one regarded this world or the 
 next, there could be no question that a bank 
 clerk of Evangelical connections committed 
 a grave fault in writing love poems. So 
 poor Adrian had to make up his mind to re- 
 main unknown, and to hold his tongue even 
 when he heard that another man had been 
 claiming the authorship of '* To Lalage." 
 Luckily, perhaps, he failed to find out who 
 this miscreant was, or probably his indigna- 
 tion would have overcome his prudence, and 
 he would at any cost have claimed his own. 
 
 The secret was well kept: and Adrian 
 received the usual check at Christmas time, 
 and with it the usual invitation to spend the 
 festive season with his uncle, and to bring 
 with him his young friend Peter Allison, to 
 whom old Mr. Pottles had taken a great 
 fancy. Peter was a man of many engage- 
 ments, but sought after as he was and pro- 
 claimed himself to be, he remembered the 
 good cheer at Mr. Pottles's, and accepted the 
 invitation. They went down together ; 
 Adrian bewailing his hard fortune and de- 
 nouncing the impostor; Peter warmly sym-
 
 Ill 
 
 pathizing, but counseling continued silence 
 and prudence. 
 
 " Ah, if I could only claim it !" cried 
 Adrian, opening his Gladstone bag and gaz- 
 ing fondly at half a dozen neat, clean copies of 
 " To Lalage." " I should be the lion of the 
 season, Peter." 
 
 Peter smiled and shook his head. " A for- 
 tune is better than fame, Adrian," said he. 
 
 For a day or two all went well at Clapham. 
 The old gentleman was in the best of tempers, 
 and the two young men did their best to keep 
 him in it, endorsing all his views as to the lax 
 morality and disgraceful tone which pervaded 
 modern literature and modern society ; and 
 when they had done their duty in this way 
 the}' rewarded themselves by going in next 
 door and having tea with Dora Chatterton, a 
 young lady whom they both thought charm- 
 ing. Indeed, Adrian thought her so charming 
 that, after a short acquaintance, he sent her a 
 copy of " To Lalage " — with the author's kind 
 regards. Now, Miss Dora Chatterton adored 
 genius. She had thought both Adrian and 
 Peter very pleasant young men ; she had per- 
 ceived that they both thought her a very 
 pleasant young woman ; and she had been 
 rather puzzled to know which of them she 
 would, in a certain event, make up her mind
 
 112 
 
 to prefer. " To Lalage " settled the question. 
 It was the gifted author, A. P., who deserved 
 her love ; and A. P. obviously stood, not for 
 Peter Allison, but for Adrian Pottles. 
 
 The very next morning she called early at 
 Mr. Pottles's. She found him alone; the 
 boys, he explained, had gone for a walk. 
 Dora was disappointed ; but failing the 
 author himself, she was content to pour her 
 praises into the ears of an appreciative and 
 proud uncle. She did so, expressing immense 
 admiration for Adrian's modesty in not hav- 
 ing told Mr. Pottles of his achievement. 
 
 " Humph !" said Mr. Pottles. " Let me see 
 these — er — things." 
 
 The effect of " To Lalage " on Mr. Pottles 
 was surprising, and particularly so to Dora. 
 In less than ten minutes she found herself 
 being shown the door, and entrusted with a 
 letter to her mother in which Mr. Pottles 
 stated that she had been reading wicked 
 books, and ought, in his opinion, to be sent to 
 her own room for an indefinite period. 
 
 " And I shall know if you don't give it her," 
 said Mr. Pottles, viciousl}'. 
 
 Thus it happened that Adrian and Peter, as 
 they were returning, met poor Dora on the 
 steps with this horrid note in one hand and 
 her pocket-handkerchief in the other — for
 
 113 
 
 Mrs. Chatterton shared Mr. Pottles's views, 
 and Dora did not enjoy having to deliver the 
 note. They were just hastening up to speak 
 to her, when Mr. Pottles himself appeared on 
 the steps, holding out " To Lalage " in his 
 hand. Adrian grasped the situation. 
 
 " For heaven's sake, Peter," he whispered, 
 " say you wrote the beastly thing ; I'm 
 ruined if you don't." 
 
 " Eh? But he'll kick me out." 
 
 " I'll stand a pony." 
 
 " Two'' said Peter, firmly. 
 
 " Well, two ; but be quick." 
 
 Then Peter spoke up like a man, and ac- 
 cepted the blame of " To Lalage." 
 
 " But your initials aren't A. P." objected 
 Mr. Pottles. 
 
 "To avoid suspicion, I reversed the order ; 
 mine are P. A." 
 
 "James," said Mr. Pottles to the footman, 
 " pack Mr. Allison's bag." 
 
 But Dora gave Peter the kindest and most 
 admiring glance as she murmured softly to 
 Adrian, " They're lovely ! Oh, don't you 
 wish you could write verses, Mr. Pottles?" 
 
 Adrian started. He had not bargained 
 for this; but Peter had overheard and in- 
 terposed : 
 
 " 1 am more than consoled by your ap-
 
 114 
 
 proval, Miss Chatterton." Mr. Pottles called 
 to Adrian and he had to go in, leaving Dora 
 and Peter in close conversation, and to as- 
 sure his uncle solemnly that he had been 
 entirely disappointed and deceived in Peter, 
 and, worse still, in Dora, and that he never 
 wished to see either of them again. Mr. 
 Pottles shook him by the hand and forgave 
 him. 
 
 Adrian passed a wretched week. In sev- 
 eral newspapers he saw it openly stated that 
 Peter now admitted he was the author of 
 "To Lalage." Peter wrote that the fifty 
 pounds were most convenient, and that he 
 had had a most charming letter from Dora, 
 and that all the literary world was paying 
 him most flattering attentions. Adrian 
 ground his teeth, but he had to write back, 
 thanking Peter for all his kindness. 
 
 Meanwhile Mr. Pottles grew restless. 
 Every paper he took up was full of the 
 praises of " To Lalage." The author was 
 becoming famous, and Mr. Pottles began to 
 doubt whether he had done well to drive him 
 forth with contumely. 
 
 " Adrian," he said, suddenly, one morning, 
 " I don't know that I did justice to 3^oung 
 Allison. I shall have another look at that 
 book. I shall order it at Smith's."
 
 115 
 
 " I — I happen to have a copy," said Adrian, 
 timidly. 
 
 " Get it," said Mr. Pottles. Mr. Pottles 
 read it — first with a deep frown, then with a 
 judicial air, then with a smile, lastly with a 
 chuckle. 
 
 " Ask him to dinner," he said. Oh, and 
 Adrian, we'll have the Chattertons. I wish 
 you could do something to get your name up, 
 my boy. 
 
 "You like it, uncle ?" 
 
 " Yes, and I like the manly way he owned 
 to it. If he had prevaricated about it, I'd 
 never have forgiven him." 
 
 After this Adrian did not dare to confess. 
 It was too bad. Here were both his Uncle 
 and Dora admiring Peter for his poems, and 
 crediting Peter with candor and courage. 
 He was to lose both fame and Doxa ! It was 
 certainly too much. A sudden thought 
 struck him. He went to town, called on 
 Peter, and, as the police reports say, " made 
 a communication" to him. 
 
 " It makes me look a scoundrel," objected 
 Peter. 
 
 " Two hundred— at six months," suggested 
 Adrian. 
 
 "And she is a nice girl — No, I'm 
 dashed — "
 
 ii6 
 
 " A monkey at three I cried Adrian. 
 
 " Done!" said Peter. 
 
 It was a sad tale of depravity on one side, 
 and of self-sacrificing friendship on the other, 
 that Mr. Pottles and DoraChatterton listened 
 to that evening. 
 
 " He had made, said Adrian, sadly, " a de- 
 liberate attempt to rob me of my fame before 
 and he repeated it. And yet, uncle, an old 
 friend — boyhood's companion — how could I 
 betray him ! It was weak, but I could not. 
 I stood by, and let him deceive you." 
 
 " You're a noble fellow," said Mr. Pottles^ 
 in tones of emotion. 
 
 " Indeed, yes," said Dora, with an adoring 
 glance. 
 
 "There, let us say no more about it," 
 pursued Adrian, magnanimously. " I have 
 my reward," and he returned Dora's glance 
 behind Mr. Pottles's broad back. 
 
 The next time he met Peter, he said, " I 
 am really immensely indebted to you, old 
 fellow. My uncle has come down handsome, 
 and if the monkey now would be oonv " 
 
 " By Gad, yes !" said Peter. He took it in 
 crisp notes, and carefully pocketed them. 
 
 " And is Miss Dora kind ?" he asked. 
 
 " She's an angel." 
 
 " And you are generally prosperous?"
 
 117 
 
 f* 
 
 " Thanks to you, my dear, old friend. 
 
 " Then," said Peter, producing- a piece of 
 paper from his pocket, "you might persuade 
 your publishers to withdraw this beastly 
 thing," It was a writ, and it claimed an 
 injunction to restrain Peter from claiming 
 the authorship of " To Lalage." 
 
 " Then you've been publicly claiming it?" 
 
 " I had to keep up the illusion, Adrian. 
 Do me justice." 
 
 "But," said Adrian, "how, Peter — how 
 does it happen that the writ is dated the day 
 before we went to Clapham?" 
 
 He paused. Peter grinned uneasily. A 
 light broke in on Adrian. 
 
 " Why," he exclaimed, "you're the villain 
 who— " 
 
 "Exactly. Wonderfully provident of me, 
 wasn't it? What, you're not going?" 
 
 " Never let me see your face again," said 
 Adrian. " I have done with you." 
 
 He rushed out. Peter whistled gently, 
 and said to himself, "Not a bad deal. He 
 must stop the action, or the old man will 
 twig." 
 
 Then he whistled again, and added, " Glad 
 I got it in notes. He'd have stopped a 
 check."
 
 ii8 
 
 A third time he whistled, and chuckled 
 and said, ** Now, I wonder if old Adrian'll 
 make five hundred and fifty out of it ! Not 
 a bad deal, Peter, my boy."
 
 MIDDLETON'S MODEL. 
 
 MiDDLETON was doing very well; every- 
 body admitted that — some patronizingly, 
 others enviously. And yet Middleton aimed 
 high. He eschewed pot-boilers, and devoted 
 himself to important subject pictures, often 
 of an allegorical description. Nevertheless, 
 his works sold, and that so well that Middle- 
 ton thought himself justified in taking a wife. 
 Here, again, good fortune attended him. 
 Miss Angela Dove was fair to see, possessed 
 of a nice little income, and, finally, a lady of 
 taste, for she accepted Middleton's addresses. 
 Decidedly a lucky fellow all round was Mid- 
 dleton. But, in spite of all his luck, his face 
 was clouded with care as he sat in his studio 
 one summer evening. Three months before 
 he had been the recipient of a most flattering 
 commission from that wealthy and esteemed 
 connoisseur the Earl of Moneyton. The Earl 
 desired two panels for his hall. " I want," 
 
 l"9]
 
 120 
 
 he wrote, " two full-length female figures — 
 the one representing Heavenly Love, the 
 other Earthly Love. Not a very new subject, 
 you will say ; but I have a fancy for it, and I 
 can rely on your talent to impart freshness 
 even to a well-worn theme." 
 
 Of course there was no difficulty about 
 Heavenly Love. Angela filled the bill (the 
 expression was Middleton's own) to a nicety. 
 Her pretty golden hair, her sweet smile, her 
 candid blue eyes, were exactly what was 
 wanted. Middleton clapped on a pair of 
 wings, and felt that he had done his duty. 
 But when he came to Earthly Love the path 
 was not so smooth. The Earl demanded the 
 acme of physical beauty, and that was rather 
 hard to find. Middleton tried all the models 
 in vain ; he frequented the theatres and 
 music-halls to no purpose ; he tried to com- 
 bine all the beauties of his acquaintance in 
 one harmonious whole, but they did not make 
 what tea-dealers call a " nice blend." Then he 
 tried to evolve Earthly Love out of his own 
 consciousness, but he could get nothing there 
 but Angela again ; and although he did vio- 
 lence to his feelings by giving her black hair 
 aiid an evil cast in her eye, he knew that, 
 even thus transformed she would not satisfy 
 the Earl. Middleton was in despair; his
 
 121 
 
 reputation was at stake. The thought of 
 Angela could not console him. 
 
 " I'd give my soul for a model !" cried he, 
 flinging aside his pencil in despair. * 
 
 At this moment he heard a knock at the 
 door. He existed on the charwoman sys- 
 tem, and after six o'clock in the evening had 
 to open his own door. A lady stood outside, 
 and a neat brougham was vanishing round 
 the corner. Even in the darkness Middleton 
 was struck by the grace and dignity of his 
 visitor's figure. 
 
 " Mr. Middleton's, is it not?" she asked, in 
 a very sweet voice. 
 
 Middleton bowed. It was late for a call, 
 but if the lady ignored that fact, he could not 
 remind her of it. Fortunately there was no 
 chance of Angela coming at such an hour. 
 He led the way to his studio. 
 
 " May I ask," he began, " to what I am in- 
 debted for this honor?" 
 
 " I see you like coming to business di- 
 rectly," she answered, her neatly gloved hands 
 busy unpinning her veil. She seemed to find 
 the task a little difficult. 
 
 '• You see, it's rather late," said Middleton. 
 
 " Not at all. I am only just up. Well, 
 then, to business. I hear you want a model 
 for an Earthly Love."
 
 122 
 
 " Exactly. May I ask if you— ?" 
 
 "If I am a model? Oh, now and then — 
 not habitually." 
 
 " You know my requirements are some* 
 what hard to fulfill ?" 
 
 " I can fulfill them," and she raised her 
 veil. 
 
 She certainly could. She realized his wild- 
 est dreams, the wildest dreams of poets and 
 painters since the world began. Middleton 
 stood half-stupefied before her. 
 
 "Well, shall I do?" she asked, turning her 
 smile on him. . 
 
 Middleton felt as if it were a battery of 
 guns, as he answered that he would be the 
 happiest painter in the world if she would 
 honor him. 
 
 " Head only, of course," she continued. 
 
 " Of course," said he, hastily ; " unless, 
 that is, you will give me hands and arms 
 too." 
 
 " I think not. My hands are not so good." 
 And she glanced at her kid gauntlets with a 
 smile. 
 
 "And — er — as to terms?" he stammered. 
 
 " Oh, the usual terms," she answered 
 briskly. 
 
 Middleton hinted at pre-payment. 
 
 " I'm not allowed to take that," she said
 
 123 
 
 " Come, I will ask for what I want when the 
 time comes. You won't refuse me ?" 
 
 "It's a little vague," he said, with an un- 
 easy laugh. 
 
 " Oil, I can go awa3\" And she turned to- 
 ward the door. 
 
 " Whatever 3'ou like," he cried hastily. 
 
 " Ah, that's better. I shall not take any- 
 thing of great value. 
 
 She gave him her hand. He ventured on 
 a slight pressure. Tiie lady did not seem to 
 notice it, and her hand lay quite motionless 
 in his.^ 
 
 " To-morrow, then?" he said. 
 
 " Yes. I won't trouble you to call a cab. 
 I shall walk." 
 
 " Have you far to go ?" 
 
 "Oh, some little way; but it's an easy- 
 road." 
 
 " Can't I escort you ?" 
 
 " Not to-night. Some da}^ I hope " — and 
 she stepped into the street and disappeared 
 round the corner. 
 
 Punctually the next day she reappeared. 
 Apart from her incomparable beauty — and 
 every time she came, Middleton was more 
 convinced that it was incomparable — she was 
 a charming companion. She was very well
 
 124 
 
 read, and her knowledge of the world was 
 wonderful. 
 
 "I wish it wasn't rude to ask your age !" 
 he exclaimed one day. 
 
 " Ah, I am older than I look. My work 
 keeps me young." 
 
 " Are you very busy, then?" 
 
 " I am always busy. But I don't grudge 
 the time I give to you. No, don't thank me. 
 I am to be paid, you know," And she 
 laughed merrily. If there were a flaw in her, 
 it was her laugh. Middleton thought it 
 rather a cruel laugh. 
 
 "Do you know," he resumed, "you have 
 never told me your name yet." 
 
 " I am here incognita." 
 
 " You will tell me some day ." 
 
 ** Yes, you shall know some day." 
 
 " Before we part forever ?" 
 
 " Perhaps we shall not part — forever." 
 
 Middleton said he hoped not ; but what 
 would Angela say ? 
 
 " My name is not so pretty a one as youP 
 fiancee s^' the lady continued. 
 
 " How do you know I am engaged ?" 
 
 " I always know that sort of thing. It's so 
 useful. Angela Dove, isn't it?" 
 
 " Yes ; I hope you like it ?"
 
 125 
 
 " To be candid, not very much. It hap- 
 pens to have unpleasant associations." 
 
 It was fortunate that Angela was staying' 
 out of town. Middleton felt that the two 
 ladies would not have got on well together ; 
 and — He checked himself in shame ; for 
 his thought had been that not even for Angela 
 could he send the stranger away. Middleton 
 struggled against the treacherous passion 
 that grew upon him ; but he struggled in vain. 
 He was guilty of postponing the finishing of 
 his panel as long as he could. At last the 
 lady grew impatient. 
 
 " I shall not come after to-day," she an- 
 nounced. " You can finish it to-day." 
 
 " Oh, hardly !" he protested. 
 
 " ril stay late ; but I can't come again." 
 
 Middleton worked hard, and by evening 
 his panel was finished. 
 
 " A thousand thanks," he said. " And now 
 you'll have something to eat, won't you ?" 
 
 She agreed, and they sat down to a merry 
 meal. The lady surpassed herself in bril- 
 liancy, and her mad gaiety infected Middle- 
 ton. Forgetful of his honor and allegiance, 
 he leant over to toast his guest with a pas- 
 sionate gaze in his eyes. Insensibly the 
 evening sped away ; suddenly the clock 
 struck twelve.
 
 " I am goinf^ now," she said. 
 
 "Ah, jou won't leave me !" cried Middle- 
 ton. 
 
 " For the moment." 
 
 " But when shall I see you again?" 
 
 " As soon as you like, but not later than you 
 must." 
 
 " You are charminc^ly mysterious. Tell me 
 where you are going?" 
 
 *' To my home." 
 
 " If you won't come to me, I shall come to 
 you," he insisted. 
 
 " Yes, you will come to me," she answered, 
 smiling. 
 
 " And we shall be together ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 *' As h)ng as ever I like?" 
 
 " Yes — longer." 
 
 " Impossible ! Eternity would not be too 
 long." 
 
 " JVous verrons" said she, with a laugh. 
 
 " At least you will write ? You'll send me 
 your picture ?" 
 
 " I never write, and you have my pic- 
 ture." 
 
 " And another in my heart," he cried, 
 hotly. 
 
 " I have tried to put it there." 
 
 " But give me some token — anything — a 
 ribbon — a e^love — anvrhinp-."
 
 127 
 
 " Well, let it be a glove. As I go I will 
 give you a glove." 
 
 She rose from her chair and rested her 
 right hand on the table. 
 
 " Till we meet again !" she said. 
 
 " I am yours for ever !" he cried, seizing her 
 hand. 
 
 " True ! true !" she answered, triumphantl}'. 
 ** You are mine for ever !" and with a sudden 
 movement she drew her arm away from him, 
 and left on the table — her glove, was it, or 
 her hand ? 
 
 It seemed her very hand ; and as Middleton 
 looked up he had a vision of a blood-red claw 
 shaken in his face, and devilish laughter 
 rattled in his ears. The lady was gone, and 
 Middleton fell full length on his studio 
 floor. 
 
 Middleton is a ver}' devoted husband to 
 Anpfela Dove. When he is well and cheer, 
 ful, he blames himself for having made love 
 to a model, and laughs at himself for having 
 been fool enough to fancy — well, all sorts of 
 rubbish. But when he is out of sorts he does 
 not like to be complimented on his figure of 
 Earthly Love, and he gives a shudder if he 
 happens to come across an article which lies 
 hidden in his cupboard — a perfect model of 
 the human hand covered with black kid : the
 
 123 
 
 model is hollow, and there is a curious black 
 mark inside it. 
 
 And the Earl ? The Earl was delighted with 
 the panel. 
 
 " Was she a professional model ?" he asked. 
 
 " She made it a matter of business with 
 me," said Middleton, uneasily. It was one of 
 his bad days. 
 
 " I must know that girl," continued the 
 Earl, with a cunning look in his eye. 
 
 " I expect you will some day." 
 
 " What's her name?" 
 
 *' I don't know. She didn't tell me." 
 
 " Didn't she sign anything when you paid 
 her?" 
 
 " I haven't paid her yet." 
 
 *' But you're going to?" 
 
 " I — I suppose so," answered Middleton. 
 
 "Well, you'll find out who she is then. 
 And, I sa}', Middleton, just let me know." 
 
 " I will if I can — unless you've found it out 
 before." 
 
 The Earl took up his hat with a sigh. 
 
 "A glorious creature!" he said. "I hope 
 I shall see her some time." 
 
 " I think it's very likely, my lord," said 
 Middleton. 
 
 " Have you any notion where she comes 
 from.?"
 
 129 
 
 Middleton compromised. He said he 
 understood that the lady was from Monte 
 Carlo.
 
 MY ASTRAL BODY. 
 
 "There's no doubt at all about it," said 
 the Rajah, relighting his cigar. It's per- 
 fectly easy, if you know how to do it. The 
 scepticism of the West is nothing less than 
 disgusting." 
 
 The Rajah had come to Oxford to complete 
 his education and endue himself with the 
 culture of Europe ; and he sat in my rooms, 
 in a frock-coat of perfect cut (he always wore 
 a frock-coat), smoking one of my weeds and 
 drinking a whiskey-and-soda. The Rajah 
 took to European culture with avidity, and I 
 have very little doubt that he learnt many 
 new things with which it might or might not 
 be expedient to acquaint his fellow-country- 
 men and subjects when he returned to India. 
 But all the intellectual interests of Oxford 
 were not strong enough to wean him from his 
 love for the ancient lore of his own country, 
 and he was always ready to expound the 
 hidden wisdom of the East to any inquiring 
 [130]
 
 131 
 
 spirit. As soon as I found this out, I culti- 
 vated liis acquaintance sedulously ; for, in 
 common with all intelligent men of the pres- 
 ent day, I took a keen interest in that strange 
 learning which seemed to give its possessors 
 such extraordinary powers. 
 
 *' Can you do it ?" I asked. 
 
 " I should hope so," said the Rajah, con- 
 temptuously. " If I couldn't do that, I'd turn 
 Mahommedan." 
 
 " I wish you'd teach me." 
 
 The Rajah took in a deep puff of smoke. 
 "You're sure you could manage it?" he 
 asked. 
 
 '* I beg )'our pardon ?" 
 
 " Well, of course, like an3'thing else, an 
 astral body must be treated with tact, or it 
 gets out of hand." 
 
 "Does it?" 
 
 "Why, yes; you must be firm and yet 
 kind. Don't let it take liberties, or you 
 don't know where it will land you. I rather 
 doubt if I ought to show you." 
 
 I implored him to do so. I was young, 
 rash, self-confident, and I thought I could 
 manage an astral body as easily as I did the 
 Dean. 
 
 " Don't blame me if you find it too much 
 for you, that's all," said the Rajah. " And of
 
 132 
 
 course you must promise not to tell any 
 one." 
 
 " Oh, must 1 ?" 
 
 " Yes, you must ; because it's quite irrej^^u- 
 lar in me to show you like this. You ought, 
 by rights, you know, to go to Thibet for seven 
 years." 
 
 " That would be rather a bore." 
 
 '* Beastly," said the Rajah ; " but of course 
 they insist on it, because they get the 
 fees." 
 
 He swore me to secrecy by all manner of 
 oaths, and lastly on my word as a gentleman ; 
 and then he showed me. I practised all that 
 evening, and was tolerably proficient by the 
 time the Rajah knocked out his last pipe and 
 went off to bed. I must not tell how it is 
 done, as I promised not to ; besides, if any 
 one reads this narrative through, he will 
 never want to know. 
 
 At first it was very convenient. I always 
 used to project it to chapel instead of going 
 myself. It did capitally there, because it had 
 onl}'- to behave itself and hold its tongue. 
 At lectures it was a failure ; it was such an 
 inattentive beggar that its notes were worth 
 nothing. And it was no sort of use in the 
 Torpid ; I was told that I should be turned 
 out if I went on " sugaring " like that — there's
 
 133 
 
 no pluck or endurance in these Orientals. 
 On the whole, however, I was very well satis- 
 fied with it, and came to rely upon it more 
 and more for all the unpleasant duties of life. 
 
 " Well, how do you like it?" asked the 
 Rajah one day in Quad. 
 
 " M)' dear fellow, it's splendid," I answered. 
 " It's up in town, being measured for trousers, 
 now. You can't think how much trouble it 
 saves." 
 
 The Rajah smiled and shook his head. 
 
 "Be moderate," he said. "You mustn't 
 use it too much, or it'll presume on it." 
 
 "Will it? What will it do?" 
 
 " Why, if it's always being projected, it's 
 as likely as not it'll learn the trick of it, and 
 take to projecting itself. Then you'll be left 
 in the lurch." 
 
 "What shall I do then?" 
 
 " I don't see what you can do," said the 
 Rajah, scratching his head. " Of course, I 
 should merely report it at headquarters ; but 
 you can't, because you've no business with it 
 at all." 
 
 " Well, I shan't grudge it a holiday now 
 and then," I said magnanimously. 
 
 The Rajah was right. It did begin to 
 take French leave. Several times when I 
 wanted it I found it had, without a word of
 
 134 
 
 apolog'y, projected itself off to Iffley or some- 
 where, and was not available. I spoke very 
 severely to it. It said nothing, but listened 
 with an unpleasant sort of smile. " We all 
 have our duties," I remarked, "and yours is 
 to be here " — and I pointed to my chest — • 
 " when you are wanted. You're as bad as a 
 scout." 
 
 *' I ought to have a little relaxation," it 
 answered, sulkily. 
 
 " I never heard of such a thing in connec- 
 tion with you. Isn't it enough for you to 
 meditate in four dimensions when you're not 
 at work ? That would satisfy most people." 
 
 " It's all very well in Thibet," it grumbled ; 
 *' but a fellow doesn't come to Oxford to do 
 that." 
 
 " One would think you had nothing to do 
 with me. You seem to forget that you are 
 simply a projection of mine." 
 
 We had some high words and parted — I 
 mean, united — in very bad temper with one 
 another. It was in the middle of a most 
 impertinent and positively threatening 
 speech, when I terminated the interview by 
 resuming it. It was very unreasonable and 
 irritating, and I made up my mind to ask the 
 Rajah to speak to it the next morning. I
 
 135 
 
 had an engagement that evening, or I would 
 have done it then. How I wish I had ! 
 
 At half-past nine I went to an *' At Home " 
 at Professor Drayton's. As a rule, "At 
 Homes" are dull; but I had a reason for 
 going to this one. The Professor had a very- 
 pretty daughter, and I was vain enough to 
 think that my presence was welcome to her. 
 In fact, we were great friends, and I had not 
 been at the house a quarter of an hour before 
 I had forgotten all my worries with my 
 unruly Astral Body, and was sitting by 
 Bessie in the small drawing-room, enjoying 
 myself immensely. Suddenly — mysteriously 
 — I felt something like a violent push. 
 Bessie vanished ; the drawing-room van- 
 ished ; and I found myself in the High, stand- 
 ing in dripping rain, without a hat or coat. 
 I stood still in bewilderment. What had 
 happened ? A moment later the Proctor was 
 upon me. I gave my name and college in a 
 mechanical way, and he passed on, leaving 
 me still standing in the rain. What had 
 happened ? Then it flashed across my mind. 
 I understood its threats. It had projected 
 me! 
 
 I woke up next morning, determined to 
 have it out with it. I found, as I expected,
 
 136 
 
 that it had waited till I was asleep ; then it 
 slunk in and united without my knowing it. 
 I went and paid my fine, and then, not waiting- 
 to breakfast, I proceeded to project it. It 
 wouldn't move ! I tried again and again. I 
 had no more power over it than a child. I 
 knew it was there ; but I could not move it 
 an inch. In wrath, I jumped up, seized my 
 cap, and started for the Rajah's rooms. The 
 rogue saw what I was up to. I give you my 
 word, I had not reached the door when it 
 projected me most viciously, and I landed 
 down in the Parks. 
 
 I was not to be beaten. I came back to 
 college at a run, and made straight for the 
 Rajah's rooms. It was on the look-out for 
 me. As I ran by my oak, which I had to 
 pass, it rushed out on me, united, and pro- 
 jected me back again to Magdalene Bridge. 
 This happened three times. Then I sat down 
 in the Parks, just where I dropped, and ac- 
 knowledged to myself that I was in a pretty 
 fix. 
 
 I had a fearful week of it. Of course, 
 wherever I was, it could unite at once by 
 just thinking of me; and directly it had 
 united, it used, I believe out of pure malice, 
 to project me somewhere where I did not 
 want to go. It was lucky for me that it was
 
 137 
 
 new to the business ; its powers were as yet 
 very undeveloped, and, consequently, it did 
 not carry very far. If it could, I am sure it 
 would have sent me to the Antipodes ; but as 
 it was, I never went further than the Univer- 
 sity boat-house — a pretty tidy step on a bad 
 morning. Still, it was improving; and I felt 
 that I must act at once if I did not want to 
 be a permanent wanderer on the face of the 
 earth. 
 
 My only chance was to engross its atten- 
 tion in some way, so that it would forget me 
 for a little while, and leave me free to speak 
 to the Rajah. I pinned all my hopes on the 
 Rajah. Well, one morning, about a week 
 after it first projected me, I went for a walk 
 in Christchurch Meadow. We were united, 
 <ind it had actually left me in peace ever since 
 breakfast. I hoped its better feelings were 
 beginning to get the mastery of it, and, in 
 order to see, I tried to project it. No, it 
 wouldn't move! The creature was still re- 
 calcitrant. 
 
 Suddenly I saw Bessie Drayton just in 
 front of me. In delight at seeing her, I for- 
 got about it, and, quickening my pace, over- 
 took her, and lifted my hat. She smiled di- 
 vinely, saying, " Why, Mr. Nares, I was just 
 going to write — " At that moment, when I
 
 138 
 
 was listening to her sweet voice, it projected 
 me! Could ill-nature go further? But, 
 luckily, its mind was not really concentrated 
 on what it was doing. I believe it was think- 
 ing of BessiCj and consequently it only car- 
 ried about a hundred yards. I landed be- 
 hind one of the big elms, where I lay perdu 
 till it had gone by. It and Bessie passed me 
 together, and it was grinning from ear to ear^ 
 and looked as pleased as Punch. And poor 
 Bessie, who thought she was talking to me, 
 was being most charming to it. I did not 
 waste time in swearing. I ran like the wind 
 back to college, hoping that Bessie's society 
 would prevent it coming after me till I had 
 spoken to the Rajah. I still retained one pull 
 over it. In order to unite, it had to come 
 where I was ; it could not resume me from a 
 distance, as 1 used to resume it ; so if it united 
 now it would have to leave Bessie. 
 
 By a blessed chance, the Rajah was at 
 home, and in trembling haste I poured my 
 story into his ear. He burst out laugh- 
 ing. 
 
 " I was afraid of it !" he gasped, holding his 
 sides. " How splendid !" 
 
 I restrained my annoyance, and after a time 
 he became a little more grave. 
 
 " Do help me !" I urged. ** It may unite at
 
 139 
 
 any moment, and project me the deuce knows 
 where." 
 
 •' Oh, it'll be all right with the young lady." 
 
 " Not for long. She's very particular, and 
 won't let it walk far with her." 
 
 " Oh, then we must act. You don't feel it 
 yet?" 
 
 " No ; but do be quick !" 
 
 The Rajah sported his oak, took off his 
 coat, lay down on the floor, and went into 
 strong convulsions. I regretted putting him 
 to so much trouble, but my need was urgent, 
 and I knew that he was a good-natured man. 
 Presently he cried (and I was just getting 
 alarmed about him): 
 
 " Are you there, Nani-Tal ?" 
 
 " Certainly," said an old, white-haired gen- 
 tleman, dressed in a sheet, who sat in the 
 Rajah's armchair. 
 
 " That's all right," said the Rajah, getting 
 up and puttmg on his coat. " You were very 
 difficult." 
 
 " We're so busy just now ;" said Nani-Tal, 
 apologetically. " I'm demonstrating three 
 nights a week, and the preparations take all 
 my time." 
 
 " Well, you can't have a boom for nothing," 
 said the Rajah, smiling. 
 
 " I don't complain," said Nani-Tal ; " I
 
 I40 
 
 only mentioned it to excuse myself for keep- 
 ing you waiting-. I was in New York when 
 3'ou began materializing. It's a lively city." 
 
 " You must tell him all about it," said 
 the Rajah to me ; " he won't be very hard on 
 us." 
 
 Nani-Tal was, however, rather severe, He 
 said it was too bad of the Rajah. How were 
 they to live, if that sort of thing went on ? 
 Then he turned to me, and added, " Of 
 course you couldn't manage it. If you'd 
 gone through the course, you would have 
 been all right. But there, it's everything for 
 nothing nowadays!" 
 
 " My friend couldn't go to Thibet." 
 
 *' He might have paid the fees, anyhow,'* 
 grumbled Nani-Tal, " and taken correspond- 
 ence lessons." 
 
 We smoothed him down with the promise 
 of a handsome donation, and at last he 
 consented to help us. It was only just in 
 time, for at that very moment I felt my 
 Astral Body uniting. A second later it made 
 a violent effort to project me ; of course, it 
 saw Nani-Tal and it knew it was in for it. 
 The old gentleman was too quick for it. 
 
 " Come out of that !" he cried imperiously, 
 and the wretch stood in the middle of the 
 room.
 
 141 
 
 It did my heart good to hear Nani-Tal fall 
 on the creature. After giving it no end of a 
 lecture, he concluded, *' And now, young 
 man, you'll just go back to your jackal for a 
 thousand years, and learn better manners." 
 
 The wretch protested ; it asked for an 
 elephant or even a tiger. Nani-Tal was 
 obdurate. 
 
 " A jackal will just suit you," he said. " Be 
 off!" The creature vanished. Simultane- 
 ously Nani-Tal began to disintegrate. 
 
 "Wait a bit !" cried the Rajah. 
 
 " I can't. I'm summoned to St. James's 
 Hall. There's a large audience, and the 
 Professor has been in convulsions seven 
 minutes." 
 
 I tried to grasp his hand in thanks. 
 
 " If you want another," he said, " you must 
 go through the course — the full course. 
 There's no other way. Let this be a lesson 
 to you." And with this parting remark he 
 disintegrated. 
 
 The Rajah lit a cigar, and I, lighter at 
 heart than I had been for many days, followed 
 his example. 
 
 " It was wrong of me," said the Rajah ; " I 
 won't do it again." 
 
 " It's a pity it turned out so badly," I 
 remarked ; " it was quite a comfort at first.'*
 
 142 
 
 ** They're all like that, unless you keep a 
 tight hand on them. Shall you take the 
 course ?" 
 
 *' Not I. I've had enough of it." 
 
 "Perhaps you're right. Excuse me; I 
 have to go to the Deccan on business." 
 
 He fell back on the sofa, apparently in a 
 trance, and I went off to the Dean's lecture. 
 It makes all the difference whether you know 
 how to do a thing or not.
 
 THE NEBRASKA LOADSTONE. 
 
 If there was one man in college whom the 
 Rajah thoroughly and heartily detested, it 
 was the Captain of the Boat Club. He had 
 many faults ; he was very tall and powerful, 
 and delighted in contrasting the English 
 physique with that of inferior races; by 
 which he meant, among others, the Rajah's 
 race. His manner was abrupt and over- 
 bearing, his laugh loud and unmusical. In 
 fact, he grated horribly on the Rajah ; and it 
 was merely the final straw when, in the 
 exhilaration of a bump supper — full, as the 
 Rajah remarked in disgust, of cow and strong 
 drink — he called that prince, in playful chaff, 
 a " nigger." The Rajah swore melodiously 
 in Hindustani, and I saw that he meant to be 
 revenged. 
 
 In those days the entertainment of the 
 Nebraska Loadstone created 2i furore. Every- 
 body went to see her, and everybody came 
 
 [143]
 
 144 
 
 away convinced that she possessed marvelous 
 powers. Her peculiar gift — but everybody 
 remembers the details of the performance, 
 and how the tricks were finally, one by one, 
 exposed, so that her adherents and believers 
 were driven from one position to another, 
 until at last they had to fall back on one single 
 performance out of all those that the Load- 
 stone gave, and maintain that on that occasion 
 at least something unexplained and inexplic- 
 able did really happen. It is with the events 
 of that particular evening that I am con- 
 cerned. I think I .can throw some light on 
 them. 
 
 At first, however, there were many 
 believers and few sceptics. The Dean care- 
 fully pointed out that Plato nowhere denied 
 the existence of odic force ; and the Bursar, 
 who was generally supposed to be little 
 better than an atheist, declared that Spencer 
 in one passage impliedly asserted it; even 
 the Warden, in his sermon, told us that it 
 was better, according to Bacon, to believe 
 two errors than refuse one truth — which was, 
 to say the least of it, sitting on the fence. 
 But none of these authorities shook the robust 
 scepticism oi the Captain of the Boat Club. 
 He knew a conjurer, and the conjurer had
 
 145 
 
 told him how it was done, and he was going- 
 to expose the Loadstone. 
 
 " But why haven't you ?" I urged. " She's 
 been here a week." 
 
 " He will not be too hard on her at first," 
 said the Rajah, with a little sneer. 
 
 " I'll bust her up this very night," said 
 Waterer. " I would have done it before, only 
 I was gated." 
 
 The excuse was good, and Waterer de- 
 parted, full of boastings and self-confidence, 
 to gather together a large number of the 
 noisy men, and make a pleasant party to 
 " guy " the unhappy Loadstone. I stayed to 
 smoke a pipe with the Rajah. 
 
 "Of course she's a fraud," said he ; "and 
 I believe that animal really has got hold of 
 the right explanation." 
 
 " I shall go and see it," I announced. 
 
 After a moment's silent smoking, the Rajah 
 looked up with a twinkle in his eye. "So 
 shall I — if niggers are admitted." 
 
 After Hall, he and I set out together for 
 the Town Hall. We found the first two 
 rows of stalls occupied by Waterer and his 
 friends. They were all in evening dress, and 
 had obviously dined — not in Hall. The 
 Rajah and I seated ourselves just behind 
 them. The room was full, and the feats were
 
 146 
 
 being most successful; each was followed by- 
 general applause, broken only by some gibes 
 from our friends in front. These latter grew 
 so pronounced that the Loadstone's manager 
 at last came forward and pointedly invited 
 one of the scoffers to submit himself to 
 experiment. 
 
 Now was Waterer's chance. He rose in 
 the majesty of his bulk, walked on to the 
 platform, and said in a loud voice, as he 
 settled himself on a chair, " If the lady can 
 move me one foot from this chair, I'll give 
 her a pony !" 
 
 The Loadstone advanced and began to paw 
 him about in her usual fashion. Waterer, 
 who was sober enough to have lost nothing 
 but his shyness, was apparently too many for 
 her. He was immovable ; and cries of, 
 ** Now then ! when are you going to begin ?'* 
 and so on, became audible. Two or three 
 minutes passed, and the Loadstone turned 
 with a gesture of despair toward her man- 
 ager. 
 
 *' I can't — " she began. 
 
 I jumped to my feet, crying, " Wait a 
 minute! Look!" 
 
 For even as she spoke, there was what is 
 scientifically called a solution of continuity 
 between Waterer and his chair. Still in a
 
 147 -• 
 
 sitting- posture, but sitting on nothing-, he was 
 at least two inches from the wickerwork of 
 the chair. I glanced from him to the Rajah. 
 That extraordinary man was in deep, placid, 
 profound slumber. I jogged his elbow and 
 pinched his arm ; he showed no consciousness 
 whatever. I looked at the Loadstone. She 
 was standing motionless on the stage, about 
 a yard from Waterer, with one hand out- 
 stretched toward him, and her eyes fixed on 
 his ascending figure ; for Waterer was grad- 
 ually, slowly, steadily mounting in his strange 
 journey. He was now a foot from his chair, 
 still in a sitting position — and up, up, up he 
 was going. The wretch was white as a 
 sheet, and gasping with fright and bewilder- 
 ment. Thunders of applause burst from the 
 audience. It was again and again renewed, 
 but the Loadstone did not, as her custom 
 was, bow and smile in response. She still 
 stood motionless, and Waterer still ascended. 
 
 At last, at a height of fully twenty feet 
 from the stage, he stopped. Simultaneously 
 the Loadstone gave a loud shriek as she fell 
 back into the arms of the manager — and the 
 Rajah awoke. 
 
 " I beg your pardon," he said politely; " I 
 was drowsy. Anything going on?"
 
 148 
 
 * No ; he's stopped now," I answered, my 
 eyes eagerly fixed on Waterer. 
 
 The Rajah rose from his seat with a yawn, 
 ''There'll be nothing more to-night," he said. 
 ** Let's go home." 
 
 " Go home, man ! — with that before our 
 eyes !" 
 
 The Rajah shrugged his shoulders. "She 
 won't do anything more," he repeated. 
 ** Look at her; she's quite done up." 
 
 And, indeed, the Loadstone looked half- 
 dead as she gazed fearfully up at Waterer. 
 Her demeanor was not that of a triumphant 
 performer. 
 
 •' Do sit down," I urged ; " we must see the 
 end of it." 
 
 With a weary sigh, the Rajah sat down, 
 saying, " I'm not sure you will, you know." 
 
 While we talked, the audience grew im- 
 patient. However wonderful a feat may be, 
 the public likes to have things kept moving. 
 They thought Waterer had been in the air 
 long enough, and there were cries of " That'll 
 do ! Let him down !" " Give us another." 
 
 The manager held a hasty conference with 
 the Loadstone ; he seemed to urge her ; but 
 she shook her head again and again, and 
 would do nothing but lie back in a chair, and 
 pass her hand to and fro over her head.
 
 149 
 
 The Rajah looked at her with a slight smile. 
 The clamor increased. I think a sort of 
 panic — an angry panic — seized the audience. 
 
 " Bring him down ! Bring him down !'* 
 they cried, pointing to the pallid Waterer, 
 who sat as rigid as a trussed fowl. 
 
 After another despairing appeal to the 
 Loadstone, the manager came forward and 
 made a lame speech. The Loadstone was 
 exhausted with her unparalleled exertions. 
 She must rest ; presently she would bring 
 him down. Then Waterer's friends arose 
 and ascended the platform. They walked 
 about, they stood on one another's shoulders, 
 they made it clear that no cords held Waterer. 
 A pair of steps was called for and brought. 
 Placed on a sturdy table, they just enabled a 
 man to reach Waterer's feet. One mounted 
 amidst intense excitement. Turning to the 
 Rajah, I exclaimed, " Look!" 
 
 He was asleep again ; and the Loadstone 
 stood stiffly upright, beckoning toward 
 Waterer. Slowly and gradually he de- 
 scended, leaving the man on the ladder 
 grasping at empty air, till he sat again on his 
 seat. The applause burst out, and the Load- 
 stone sank back in a faint on the floor. The 
 Rajah awoke, and the manager dropped the
 
 150 
 
 curtain, hiding the Loadstone, Waterer, and 
 his friends from our view. 
 
 "Give me your arm," said the Rajah ; " I 
 am tired." I escorted him to a cab, and we 
 drove home. 
 
 The Loadstone gave no performance the 
 next evening ; she was too fatigued ; and 
 Waterer was absent from the boat and from 
 the sight of men two days. When he reap- 
 peared he made no reference to his friend the 
 conjurer. He slunk about the Quad, look- 
 ing very pale and upset. I met him once, 
 when I was with the Rajah, on our way to 
 lecture. The Rajah smiled urbanely at 
 Waterer, and said to me, when he had 
 passed : 
 
 " It's such a rude thing to call a gentleman 
 a nigger, isn't it ?" 
 
 Waterer has not done it again. And the 
 Loadstone never did that trick again. She 
 took the pony, though. The manager called 
 on Waterer, and asked for a check. I think 
 that incident pleased the Rajah most of all. 
 
 " It is a ready utilization of the unexpected," 
 he remarked, " which does our friend much 
 credit."
 
 A SUCCESSFUL REHEARSAL. 
 
 Mr. Aloysius Tappenham, of Stamford 
 Road, was a dealer in frauds. It must not 
 be understood from this statement that he 
 was either a company-promoter or the man- 
 ager of a philanthropic undertaking. On the 
 contrary, he was as honest a man of business 
 as you would find in London, and he earned 
 his living by discovering and introducing 
 new attractions in the shape of " Wonders," 
 ** Phenomenons," and so forth. The music 
 halls were Mr. Tappenham's best customers, 
 and when he successfully launched a new im- 
 postor, he reaped a handsome return in the 
 way of commissions on the salary of the 
 impostor and the profits of the entrepreneur. 
 All \\\s proteges were a success — a fact chiefly 
 to be attributed to his unvarying habit of 
 insisting that he himself should be shown 
 " how it was done." He promised and ob- 
 served absolute secrecy; but, as he always
 
 152 
 
 said, he could not properly judge of the merit 
 of any particular fraud, unless he were al- 
 lowed a private view of the machinery by 
 which it was worked. Some few years ago, 
 in the very prime of life, and the full tide 
 of a profitable trade, Mr Tappenham sud- 
 denly retired from business. This was the 
 reason. 
 
 One day Mr. Tappenham discovered a 
 treasure in the shape of a very attractive 
 young lady whose name was Hopkins, but 
 who proposed to call herself Mile. Claire. 
 Claire was hardly suitable to the music-halls; 
 Mr. Tappenham thought that she was above 
 that, and proposed to " run " her himself in 
 Bond Street, on half profit terms. Her 
 speciality was the production of any spirit 
 you liked to order. She received in a dimly 
 lighted room ; you told her who you were, 
 and whose spirit you wished to interview, 
 and forthwith, without any nonsense of hand- 
 holding or table-turning, she caused to appear 
 a shadowy yet clearly perceptible figure 
 which was exactly like the person you named, 
 spoke with that person's voice, and exhibited 
 full — or reasonably full — knowledge of every, 
 thing which that person, and that person only, 
 might be expected to know. 
 
 Mr. Tappenham was much struck with the
 
 153 
 
 dexterity of this performance. Of course, 
 when explained, it resolved itself into some 
 clever optical illusion, a little ventriloquism, 
 and a good deal of tact in returning to the 
 inquirer in another form information pumped 
 out of him beforehand. The materials were 
 simple, the result was highly artistic ; and 
 Mr. Tappenham determined to furnish the 
 only thing needful to set London aflame with 
 the new marvel — namely, capital. However, 
 before taking the last irreparable step, he 
 decided on a final trial. He prepared the 
 inise-en-sccne with due completeness, and in- 
 vited Mile. Claire to experiment on him- 
 self. 
 
 " Consider me one of the public," he said, 
 "and give me a hair-raiser." 
 
 Mile. Claire protested that he was too much 
 behind the scenes ; but, on being pressed, she 
 consented to try, and asked Mr. Tappenham 
 to name his spirit. 
 
 He thought for a moment and then said : 
 
 "When I was a young man, I knew a girl 
 called Nellie Davies — a pretty girl, my dear. 
 I dare say I didn't treat her over well ; but 
 that's neither here nor there. Let's have 
 her." 
 
 Clever little Mile. Claire asked a question 
 or two — and Mr. Tappenham admired the
 
 154 
 
 neat and apparently undesigned nature of her 
 questions — and then set to work, after drawing 
 the curtains a shade closer, and turning the 
 light a trifle lower. 
 
 Mr. Tappenham sat comfortably in an arm- 
 chair, his hands crossed over his white waist- 
 coat, and a smile of satisfaction on his face. 
 Presently the shadowy shape began to form 
 itself a yard or two from Mr. Tappenham. 
 
 " Capital, capital ?" he chuckled. '^ That'll 
 fetch 'em." 
 
 The shape grew more definite. 
 " Will that do ?" asked Mile. Claire, trium- 
 phantly. " Is it like ?" 
 
 " Now, by Jove, it is rather ! Make it 
 speak." 
 
 Mile. Claire laughed, and, projecting her 
 voice to the shape, began in low, sweet, sad 
 tones: "You summoned me. What do you 
 desire of your dead friend ?" 
 
 She stopped, laughing again, and said, 
 " It's no use, when you're up to it before- 
 hand." 
 
 Mr. Tappenham did not answer her. He 
 sat looking at the shape, and seemed to be 
 listening intently. 
 
 "Shall! go on?" she inquired. Mr. Tap- 
 penham took no notice. 
 
 "What's the matter with him?" thought
 
 155 
 
 Mile. Claire. " I shan't go on if he's not 
 listening." 
 
 Assuming her pretended voice again, she 
 said, " I will try to forgive. Farewell, fare- 
 well," and, with a merry, boisterous laugh, 
 she displaced the arrangement which pro- 
 duced the illusion, and said to Mr. Tappen- 
 ham : 
 
 " Now, are you satisfied !" Then she added, 
 in a tone of surprise: "Whatever is the 
 matter?" For, as she looked, the expression 
 of his face changed from attention to surprise, 
 from surprise to uneasiness. He turned to 
 her and said, with a forced smile: "It's too 
 clever — a sight too clever, That'll do; stop 
 it, please." 
 
 "Stop it?" 
 
 " Yes. I've had enough. It's — it's damned 
 absurd, but it's getting on my nerves. Stop 
 it, I say — stop it !" His voice rose at the end 
 almost into a cry. 
 
 " Why, I have stopped it this three min- 
 utes !*' she answered in surprise. 
 
 His e3'es had wandered from her to where 
 the shape had been ; but at her last words he 
 turned to her again with a start. "What? 
 No, no. No nonsense ! Come, now, be a 
 good girl and stop it. I've had enough." 
 
 1
 
 156 
 
 "Are you drunk?" asked Mile. Oaire, im- 
 patiently. " It's all over," 
 
 " I won't be made a fool of," said he angrily. 
 ** Stop it, or not a farthing do you get 
 from me." 
 
 " Heaven bless the man, he's mad !" ex- 
 claimed the lady, who began to be a little 
 uncomfortable herself. 
 
 It is an eerie thing to see a man looking 
 hard at — nothing, and listening intently to — 
 nothing. 
 
 Suddenly he jumped up and ran toward 
 Mile. Claire. He seized her by the arm, and 
 cried, " Stop, you little devil, stop ! Do you 
 want to madden me? I never did it, I never 
 did. At least, I never meant it — so help' me 
 God, I never meant it." 
 
 " Mr. Tappenham, you're dreaming. 
 There's nothing there. I'm saying noth- 
 ing." 
 
 " She's coming ! She's coming !" he cried. 
 " Take her away ! take her away !" 
 
 Mile. Claire looked at his face. Then she 
 too gave a shriek of fright, and, hiding her 
 face in her hands, sank on the floor sobbing. 
 She saw nothing. But what was that face 
 looking at ? 
 
 As for Mr. Tappenham, he fled into the 
 corner of the room. And when Mile. Claire
 
 " Presently the shadowy shape began to form itself 
 a yard or two from Mr. Tappcnhain."
 
 157 
 
 recovered herself enough to draw back the 
 curtains, and let in the blessed sun, he lay on 
 the floor like a man dead. 
 
 Mile. Claire was a good girl. She had a 
 mother and two little brothers to keep ; so 
 she stuck to the business ; but she never liked 
 it very much after that day. Mr. Tappen- 
 ham could afford to retire, and he did retire. 
 He lives very quietly, and gives large sums 
 in charity. Mile. Claire knows all the tricks 
 that ever were invented ; she is a thorough- 
 going little sceptic, and believes in nothing 
 that she does not see, and in very little of 
 what she does. Therefore she merely exem- 
 plifies feminine illogicality when she thinks 
 to herself, as she cannot help thinking now 
 and then : 
 
 " I wonder what he did to Nellie Davies !" 
 
 She told me about it, and I believed her 
 when she said that she was not playing a 
 trick on Mr. Tappenham. But perhaps she 
 was deceiving me also ; if so, that is an ex- 
 planation. 
 
 I repeated the story to a scientific man. 
 He said that it furnished an interesting in- 
 stance of the permanence of an optical im- 
 pression after the removal of the external 
 excitant. That is another explanation. 
 
 Or it may have been the working of con-
 
 158 
 
 science ; that is an explanation in a way, 
 though an improbable one, because, in spite 
 of many opportunities, Mr. Tappenham's 
 conscience had never given him any incon- 
 venience before. It has since. 
 
 THE END.
 
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