LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 RIVERSIDE 
 
 ( 
 
 /^
 
 LtCx-'-i^uAD 
 
 irtii^ 

 
 BEISEIS
 
 BEISEIS 
 
 BY 
 
 WILLIAM BLACK 
 
 AUTHOR OP "A DAUGHTER OF HETH," "MACLEOD OF DARE," ETC. 
 
 LONDON 
 SAMPSON LOW, MARSTOX AND COMPANY 
 
 llillTED 
 
 St. Dunstan's l^oust 
 Fetter Lane, Fleet Street, E.G.
 
 TR 41 i 4 
 SIS' 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED, 
 STAUFOKD STREET AND CUAKING CBOSS.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTBR 
 
 1. — At Sanchobt es Dbk 
 II. — The Gordons op Grantlt 
 III. — Aunt Clara .... 
 rv. — Wider Wanderings 
 V. — Adf der Hohe 
 VI. — The Htpatia — and thereafter 
 VII. — A Greek Slave 
 Vin. — By Moor and Rill 
 IX. — "With Hey, Nonnt, Nonnt" 
 X. — Frosi Morn till Eve 
 XI. — A Secret of the Woods 
 XII. — "Where the Dun Deer lie" 
 XIII. — North and South 
 XIV. — A Departubk 
 XV. — A Squire of Dames 
 XVI. — An Awakening 
 XVII. — " Now all is done " 
 XVIII.— A Resolve . 
 XIX —Face to Face 
 XX. — Der Ewige Gesang 
 XXI. — Judge and Jury . 
 XXII. — ' Loved I not Honour More ' 
 XXIII.—' Sweet Nellie O'Ree ' 
 XXIV. — 'Seemed Athens as a Pakadis^e' 
 
 PAGE 
 
 1 
 
 10 
 
 23 
 35 
 46 
 
 57 
 70 
 83 
 96 
 111 
 125 
 139 
 153 
 167 
 183 
 196 
 211 
 227 
 240 
 252 
 264 
 277 
 288 
 306
 
 BEISEIS, 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 AT SANCHOKY ON DEE. 
 
 Away up on the heights of ScouUer Hill, overlooking the 
 wide and wooded valley of the Dee, a tall and slim young 
 woman lay at full length on the heather, her interclasped 
 hands beneath her head, her large, dark, foreign-looking 
 eyes fixed lazily and dreamily on the slow-moving heavens. 
 And she was singing to herself — in a kind of absent under- 
 tone : probably she was quite unconscious that she was 
 following these idle words — which as likely as not were of 
 her own haphazard composition : 
 
 O Lore went sailing along the sky. 
 
 On the soft ichite clouds, so far and high; 
 
 '■ yonder's the world for which Fm fain — 
 
 The %nld gray reaves and the driving main.' 
 
 ' dear little Love, much better you'd be, 
 
 If you'd clip your wings and come down to me I 
 
 Poor hoy, he was beaten and battered sore — 
 Tossed by the surf and flung on the shore : 
 ' J told you, you icrctch, 'twould happen ; but now 
 Here are handkerchiefs cool to bind your brotc ; 
 And you'll fold your wings and creep close to me, 
 And I'll hide you safe from the angry sea.' 
 
 She turned her head a little. And if she had chosen, 
 she might have gazed abroad on a sufficiently spacious and 
 varied panorama — the fertile pastures of Glen Dye— the 
 outskirts of Glen Tana Forest — the vast, undulating billows 
 of the Grampians, shining here and darkened there with 
 sunlight and velvet shadow ; while on the remote horizon-
 
 2 BRISEIS 
 
 Hue rose tlie peaks of Loch-Na-Garr, the suow on them of 
 a dim and burnished gold through the distant haze. But 
 perhaps before her mental vision there was a very different 
 scene. Perhaps she had transported hcrseK back to her 
 island home in the Saronic Gulf ; perhaps she found herself 
 once more under the cool shade of the olives, looking across 
 the great plain of waters — the blazing blue of the siunmer 
 sea all twinkling with innumerable little flashes of white 
 foam ; on her right the lonely shores and precipitous cliffs 
 stretching away down to Cape Colonna ; far in front of 
 her the bold scimetar-swcep of the Bay of Salamis ; beyond 
 that again the palely violet shoulders of Corydallus, and 
 these but the beginning of a mountainous semicircle coming 
 round to the scarred and gray-green slopes of Hymettus ; 
 then in the midst of the extended plain a mass of rugged 
 rock rising faint and visionary into the vibrating air, and, 
 higher still, on the summit of the plateau, certain lofty 
 and saffron-tinted pillars telling of a ruined temple — the 
 famous temple once the home and shrine of the Maiden 
 Goddess, Pallas Athene. It is a spectacle that the merest 
 stranger cannot contemplate without profound emotion ; 
 but in the case of this Greek girl — this Briseis Valieri — 
 now lying supine and abstracted on an Aberdeenshire hill 
 — there were many added and personal associations and 
 affections and memories ; for she also — for a time, at least, 
 during her days of schooling and school-friendships — she 
 also had been a Maid of Athens. 
 
 Of a sudden she was brought back to herself and her 
 actual surroundings. 
 
 " Briseis ! Bry ! Bry 1 Where are you ? " — she heard 
 the remote call for her. 
 
 And then she rose quickly to her feet — her slender, tall, 
 symmetrical figure showing dai'k agaiust the sky — and 
 looked all around. On this solitary open space of silver- 
 licihened rock and herbage no one was to be seen ; but 
 presently, beyond the adjacent larch-wood, and not far from 
 the base of an ancient tower, she had found the object of 
 her quest — the figure of a little, elderly man, who appeared 
 to be frantically gesticulating. At once she set off to 
 rejoin her companion, her long limbs and her free and 
 agile step taking her over the heather as if she had been
 
 AT SANCHORY ON DEE % 
 
 a young fawn. And even before she drew near him her 
 eyes were full of a smiling and kiudly interest ; for those 
 dark and lustrous eyes of hers had this unusual faculty, 
 that even while the rest of her features were apparently 
 quiescent, they of themselves could express pleasure, and 
 good-will, and gratitude — and even on occasion mirth and 
 mockery, for she was by nature a daughter of the laughter- 
 loving Aphrodite. But now, as she rapidly approached, 
 this smiling cm-iosity gave way to a vague concern and 
 wonder ; because she could see that her uncle was strangely 
 agitated. He held up his hand. 
 
 " Not too near — not too near ! " exclaimed this small, 
 nervous-looking man, who nevertheless had apple-tinted 
 cheeks and bright gray eyes. " Briseis, I tell you this is 
 a day of days for me — a day of days, indeed ! — you will 
 remember it all your life when you come to understand. 
 Do you know what that is ? " 
 
 She followed the direction of his finger, and saw on the 
 ground in front of him some scattered patches of a white, 
 waxen-looking flower, which she thought might be one of 
 the stitchworts or some such thing— for notwithstanding 
 her long spring and summer and autumn rainbles with this 
 devoted enthusiast she had not picked up much botanical lore. 
 
 " It's the Silene alpestris ! " he said, excitedly. " Don't 
 you understand ? That is one of Don's ' reputed dis- 
 coveries ' ! — but perhaps Sir Joseph 'Hooker, in the next 
 edition of his Flora, wUl be so exceedingly kind as to 
 transfer it from the appendix and place it in the body of 
 the book ! Yes, yes ; it's all very well for the younger men 
 to make fun of me, and call me the Marquis of Clova, and 
 say I shall never die happy till I rehabilitate the whole 
 Don family. But what is that before you ? I ask you, 
 what is that ? There it is ! — staring you in the face — ■ 
 the Silene alpestris— one of Don's ' reputed discoveries ' ! 
 There it is before you — growing wild on an Aberdeenshire 
 hill — and not so far away from Clova either. I tell you 
 this will make some of them open their eyes " 
 
 Naturally enough the young Greek girl stooped to secure 
 for herself one of those starlike blossoms — if only for the 
 purpose of closer scrutiny^but instantly he gripped her 
 by the arm and checked her. 
 
 B 2
 
 4 BJ?ISE/S 
 
 " No," said he, peremptorily, " they are too precious. 
 Perhaps to-morrow or next day, when I have everything 
 ready, I may take one or two specimens to forward to the 
 Linnsan Society, and the Eoyal Botanic Society, and the 
 Andersonian at Glasgow ; but othei'wise they must be left 
 to spread and flourish as much as ever is possible. I tell 
 you, if I were that young Sir Francis Gordon, I would 
 fence them round, so that not a single tourist should get 
 near them. But in the mean time, Briscis — in the mean 
 time, come away down — I must send some telegi'am.? off 
 • — come away down to the inn, and I will dictate them 
 
 to you. Don't you think Professor at Oxford will 
 
 stare — don't you think so ? — ah, don't you think so ? — 
 but come away, Bry — I shouldn't wonder if I could show 
 you the plant figured in Loudon or Robinson, and then you 
 will be convinced " 
 
 " Oh, but I am delighted, uncle ! " said the young girl 
 ■ — and now all the beautiful, pale olive face was aglow 
 with sympathetic pleasure. " 1 am delighted ! And is it 
 so great a discovery ? And will they give you more 
 honom* ? — and print your name in more Transactions ? 
 — and make you a Fellow of more Societies ? Oh, but 
 indeed I am delighted I I must write and tell my cousin 
 CaUiope " 
 
 He laughed aloud, in a half -hysterical fashion — he seemed 
 hardly to know what he was doing or saying. 
 
 " And sooner or later, Bry, you will discover that in this 
 country we say Calliope, not Calliope " 
 
 " In Athens we used mostly to call her Opie," said tho 
 young girl, without taking any offence, and still regarding 
 the waxen-white flowers with the greatest interest. 
 
 " But come away — come away now," he said, hurriedly. 
 " I must send off the telegrams at once." Then he paused. 
 " No. Stay a moment. Kneel down." 
 
 She was a biddal)le creature, and her dress was of a rou;^h 
 and simple material : she did as she was told. 
 
 " Is it some form of worship, uncle ? " said she, with the 
 so!'t dark eyes smiling. 
 
 " Examine now," he said. " Examine closely ; and when 
 wo go down to the inn, if I can lind for you a figure of the 
 ]iliiiit. you will see how they corn'spond. ()])S('rve now —
 
 AT SANCHORY ON DEE J 
 
 the flowers panicled, rather large, and of a glossy whitenesa 
 — each petal with four notches — the calyx erect, with blunt 
 teeth as long as the petals — stem simple, few-leaved, about 
 six inches high ■" 
 
 She had risen to her feet again. 
 
 " But I do not need to be convinced, uncle 1 " she ex- 
 claimed. " When you tell me, that is enough. Sm-ely 
 there can be no better authority than yom'self, after you 
 have given your whole life to the study ? " 
 
 He slung his vasculimi over his shoulder ; he put his 
 hand in attectionate fashion within her arm ; and together 
 they proceeded to descend the hill — down through the 
 larches that were all moving and whispering in the light 
 and varying breeze. 
 
 " You see, Bry," he continued, in a grave and matter-of- 
 fact manner (for he would not betray too much exultation), 
 "this Scoulter Hill is very well known as the habitat of 
 many rare or at least uncommon plants ; and among them is 
 the Linncca horealis. Not that the Linnaa itself is so very 
 rare, but the fruit of it is — very rare indeed : Hooker says 
 he had to take the description of it from AVahlenberg. 
 Well, you understand, I have never given up the hope of 
 some day stumbling on a branch of the Linncm bearing 
 fruit — even in the spring or early summer — for it is an 
 evergreen shrub and tolerably hardy — and in a sheltered 
 place in the woods there might always be a chance of the 
 fruit hanging on through the winter. And I was pottering 
 about" — here he began to talk a little more quickly — "I 
 was pottering about. I had no thought of Don, or of the 
 Don family, or of the scepticism that has rejected so many 
 of their discoveries. I was not thinking of any SiJene, or 
 any of the disputed Saxifrages, or anything of the kind ; it 
 was the dark green leaves of the Linncca I was looking for ; 
 and not very anxiously either. Then of a sudden " — and 
 now he was speaking in an eager, half-breathless way—" of 
 a sudden I saw something : it was like a slap in the face : 
 for a second my eyes seemed quite bewildered. For I knew 
 — oh yes, I knew instantly what it was ! — I knew the gap 
 that the stranger filled ; and the oddest thing happened — 
 all in the flash of a moment it appeared to me as if I were 
 answering back to this authority and that authority — thia
 
 6 BRISETS 
 
 one in Edinbui'gli and that one at Kew — as if I were saying 
 to them : ' Ah, perhaps you will now be a little less ready 
 to add " not confirmed " when any one sends you the report 
 of a discovery from Clova or from Dee-side ; and perhaps 
 you will be less distrustful about Don's contributions to 
 the British /?ora; and perhaps, considering the height and 
 the whereabouts of Scoulter Hill, you won't find the phrase 
 " a garden escape " sufficient to accoimt for everything.' 
 Briseis, I think they will open their eyes a little ! " he went 
 on — and he laughed in his nervous, excited way. " They 
 will begin to doubt their doubts — and that's the fact. They 
 will begin to think that a thorough search of the whole of 
 the Clova mountains might be more serviceable than dis- 
 missing every unconfirmed discovery with contempt. The 
 rehabilitation of the Don family ? Well, I never thought 
 that necessary — and I never proposed it to myself as an 
 object — never — but still — but still " 
 
 And so he continued talking, garrulous and restless be- 
 yond his wont, while they held on their way down into the 
 valley, and crossed the Dee by the gray stone bridge, and 
 went along and into the village of Sanchory. It is a quiet 
 and still little hamlet,with one large and wide main thorough- 
 fare, a straggling row of houses on each side of the spacious 
 street, an inn, a church, and a number of small villas 
 scattered about among gardens. But it is these gardens, 
 especially in early summer, that redeem Sanchory from 
 what otherwise would be its commonplaceness of look ; for 
 wherever one turns — glancing down a lane or over a wall — 
 there is a profusion of vivid, luminous, trembling leaves and 
 branches ; and always through the young translucent green 
 of this immediate foliage there is visible here and there 
 the deep, soft rose-purple of the distant hills. As old John 
 Elliott and his niece Briseis now walked up to the Gordon 
 Arms, there was a hot glare of sunlight abroad, and the 
 wide thoroughfare was quite empty. 
 
 That was a busy afternoon for both of them. For what 
 with his anxious temperament and the greatness of the 
 occasion, the old botanist's hand was rather shaky, so that 
 it fell to his niece's lot to take down from his dictation the 
 telegrams to one or two learned professors and the letters 
 to certain familiar friends which he composed as he paced
 
 AT SANCHORY ON DEE ^ 
 
 up and down the small room. And then again at dinner — 
 these preliminary announcements having been got rid of 
 —he was still unusually talkative, and apparently he vras 
 very happy ; he said some pretty things about the young 
 lady's looks and the neatness of her dress ; and he was 
 generously insistent that she should share with him the 
 small bottle of claret which was his modest daily allowance. 
 She only shook her head, however. She was ready enough 
 to fill his glass for him — but her own remained empty : she 
 was hke Fair Annie in the old ballad — 
 
 'O, she has served the lang tables, 
 
 Wi' the white bread and the wine; 
 But aye she drank the wan water. 
 To keep her colour fine.' 
 
 Nay, rambling on from mood to mood, he at length grew 
 remorseful. 
 
 " Briseis," he said, " I do think you are the most admir- 
 able companion that God ever created. Nothing comes 
 amiss to you ; whatever happens, it is always for the best : 
 I never saw such content, such goodwill, such a kindly 
 disposition. But all the same — all the same I am con- 
 vinced I ought not to allow you to sacrifice yourself in this 
 way. It is pure selfishness on my part. You should be 
 living in Edinburgh or London, seeing young people of your 
 own age, mixing in society, going to theatres and concerts 
 and dances. You should not have elected to join my 
 wandering life ; you should have gone to your Aunt 
 Clara > 
 
 Her eyes— those lustrous, dark, expressive eyes— looked 
 amused. 
 
 " Uncle, uncle," she said, " you are not going to forsake 
 me, are you ? I know well enough what every one else 
 would say of me. They would say that I was useless and 
 lazy and idle, and that I had no right to shirk my part of 
 the work of the world, and go away and lie on a hillside, 
 doing nothing but drink in the sweet air. And all that 
 would be quite true. But then, it is for you to defend 
 me. You are my ally. You should tell them that I am 
 not entirely useless ; for if I were to let you go away into 
 these lonelv pln(;ep all bv vonrsi'lf. some rlnv nr ntbc] tl'<
 
 8 BRISEIS 
 
 Elfin Queen would be carrying you oflf into captivity and 
 keeping you hidden for twenty long years " 
 
 " There is another thing too," he proceeded, still harping 
 on these hesitations. " There is your music. They tell me 
 that your natural gift is quite wonderful — your facility and 
 touch on the piano quite wonderful ; and that you ought to 
 go into training at the Royal Academy of Music, to perfect 
 your technique " 
 
 " Eucharisto 1 " she exclaimed, laughing, yet not at all 
 scornfully. " For what would the next step be ? Why, if 
 I succeeded, I should have to play in large concert-rooms, 
 and earn much money. Many thanks, yes ! — but the little 
 money I have is sufficient for my wants, and I do not even 
 have to trouble with a banker, since you are so kind as to 
 look after it for me. And as for the concert-rooms, and 
 meeting people, and making acquaintances, well, I do not 
 like town life at all. It does not interest me. The air 
 stifles me. It is different when I am wandering among the 
 valleys and the mountains with you, uncle — ah, and such 
 splendid wanderings ! — from Clova up to Atholl, from 
 Atholl to Braemar, from Braemar all along Dee-side. Sas 
 hupereucharisto ! — but I have no ambition to appear at 
 St. James's Hall ! " 
 
 "As you please, Briseis, as you please," he replied, 
 thoughtfully ; and seeing that he had finished dinner, she 
 now went to the mantel-shelf and filled his wooden pipe, 
 iind brought it over to him, along with the matches. And 
 then she turned the conversation back to the great discovery 
 of tlie morning — so that he had soon dismissed these passing 
 clouds. Nay, he grew garrulous and exultant again ; and 
 would have her fetch this or that botanical cycloixt'dia, to 
 convince her who was already convinced. There could be 
 little doubt but that the plant they had found on the 
 summit of Scoulter Hill was in reality the Silene alpestris, 
 the Alpine catchfly. 
 
 Nevertheless, that same night, when all the little village 
 liad sunk into slumber — Briseis too, most likely, for she 
 had for some time been gone to her room — the outer door 
 of the Gordon Arms was stealthily opened, and a small, dark 
 figure stfjle out. It was late ; but there was still a pale and 
 steely glow up in the northwestern heavens ; and this half-
 
 AT SANCHORY ON DEE 9 
 
 light produced a kind of wan grayness on the wide thorough- 
 fare and on the fronts of the houses : the trees alone were 
 black. The profoundest silence reigned ; not a horse 
 whinnied in its stall ; not a dog barked a false alarm. 
 And through the sleeping hamlet this small dark figure — 
 which was that of the old botanist — pursued its noiseless 
 way, eventually passing into the road that leads down to 
 the bridge over the Dee. Then, as he went on, there came 
 a whisper into the stillness of the night — an eerie sound — 
 the sound of some unseen thing in this world of all-per- 
 vading death — the low-murmuring voice of the river. He 
 crossed the bridge ; but he could only listen ; there was no 
 glint of water underneath. Then on again into the strange 
 peace and hush of the country : it seemed to him as though 
 he could have heard the faintest click for miles away, the 
 silence was so absolute. Nor was there any sign or symptom 
 of life ; not even a rabbit scurried away from beneath the 
 hedge-rows ; he was the sole occupant of this mute and 
 inanimate universe, in its dusk of metallic gray. 
 
 But when he entered the woods, and proceeded to follow 
 as best he might the ever-ascending path through the trees, 
 even that faint guidance from the western skies was denied 
 him, so that he had to remove the cap from the dark-lantern 
 that he carried, lett/'ng the ball of orange fire glare out on 
 the phantasmal ste;ns of Scotch fir and larch and spruce. 
 Slow progress, per\iaps, as he toiled up the winding track, 
 with the spectral Hmbs and branches starting out here and 
 there from the surrounding gloom ; but there was some- 
 thing in his heart and brain that had to be satisfied ; there 
 could have been no sleep for him that night while any 
 nervous and torturing dread might keep suggesting that he 
 had been the victim of an extraordinary hallucination. 
 And at last he emerged from the black obscm-ity of the 
 trees ; there was a colder breath of air stirring ; he found 
 himself on the open plateau of heather and rock ; and if 
 the lingering twilight in the northwest was fading down 
 into the transient darkness of the short summer night, at 
 least he had with him this blazing will-o'-the-wisp that 
 swung in his hand as he warily went forward. 
 
 Warily indeed he went ; for though the bull's-eye of the 
 lantern glared fiercely enough, the light that it shed on the
 
 lo BRISEIS 
 
 herbage was pale and ineffectual, and revealed almost nothing 
 of colour. But at length, after much searching, he came 
 upon a few scattered patches of small white dots. He knelt 
 down — as Briseis had done. He brought the lantern close 
 ■ — and peered — and examined — just touching here and 
 there with a finger-nail. And finally he rose to his feet 
 again, with a sigh of immeasm^able relief and satisfaction. 
 
 " There is not a shadow of a doubt ! " he said to himself. 
 " And to-morrow — or the day after to-morrow — some folk 
 in the south will be opening their eyes 1 " 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE GORDONS OF GRANTLY. 
 
 On the following morning old John Elliott conveyed to his 
 niece, with his usual shy and sensitive roundaboutncss, that 
 he would rather be left alone. He had to prepare the 
 more formal communications respecting his discovery to be 
 sent to certain learned Societies— especially with the view 
 of showing that, from the position of Scoulter Hill, the 
 Silene alpestris he had found there could not possibly have 
 been a garden escape. But, he added, when these memor- 
 anda had been roughly drawn out, perhaps Briseis would 
 l)e so kind as to copy them for hun in her neat and accurate 
 handwriting ? And in the mean time she might go and 
 amuse herself in exploring the surrounding neighbourhood. 
 Well, she was nothing loath ; for in truth she was an 
 idle wretch, as she herself had admitted ; always glad to 
 get into the open air ; content to have nothing to do but 
 gaze abroad upon wild flowers, and clouds, and hills ; and 
 more than content when she chanced to have a box of 
 chocolate-creams in her pocket. So she put on her black 
 straw hat with its spray of crimson blossom ; and she took 
 her crimson sunshade with her, lest the direct rays in the 
 valley should prove too oppressive ; and a few seconds 
 thereafter she was marching along the wide, empty thorough- 
 fare, leisurely enough, yet with the bold freedom of step 
 that her long legs gave her. And she was repeating to 
 herself :
 
 THE GORDONS OF GRANT LY n 
 
 'Down Dee-side rode Inverey, whistling and playing, 
 He rapped loud at Brackley gate, ere the day's da wing : 
 " O Gordon of Brackley, proud Gordon, come down ; 
 There are swords at your yett that will gar your blood spin." 
 
 For this was a country-side haunted everywhere with 
 historical and legendary associations ; and while her uncle 
 was entirely engrossed with his botanical pursuits she had 
 had plenty of time for the reading up of the old ballads ; 
 and it was with intensest interest that she had come upon 
 or hunted up this or that place mentioned in those wild 
 tales of love and sorrow and tragic farewell, of war and 
 hatred and passionate revenge. The two of them, uncle 
 and niece, had been down in Glen Prosen and Glen Shee, 
 where ' the gallant Grahams ' assembled : 
 
 'In Glen Prosen we rendezvoused, 
 
 Marched to Glen Shee by niglit and day, 
 And took the town of Aberdeen, 
 
 And met the Campbells in their array.' 
 
 They had come round by AthoU : 
 
 'As I went in by the Duke of AthoU's yett, 
 I heard a fair maid singing; 
 Her voice was sweet, she sang sae complete, 
 And the bells o' the court were ringing,' 
 
 She had seen the ruined castle of Inverey, and the remain- 
 ing stones of Brackley ; she had crossed the fatal burn of 
 Corrichie : 
 
 'Mourn ye Hielands, and mourn ye Lowlands, 
 I trow ye hae mickle need ; 
 For the bonnie burn o' Corrichie 
 Has run this day wi' bleid.' 
 
 But perhaps it was the pathetic story of the two Gordons 
 that kept most frequently recurring to her brain, now as 
 she got away from the village, her tall, slim figure erect, 
 her light and easy and graceful step taking her quite rapidly 
 enough out into the open country : 
 
 ' " Arise now, gay Gordon ! " his lady 'gan cry ; 
 "For there is fierce Inverey driving your kye." 
 " How can I go, lady, and win them again. 
 When I have but ae sword where he has got ten?"
 
 12 B RISE IS 
 
 "Arise, now, my maidens, leave rock and leave fan; 
 How blest had I been had I married a man I — 
 Arise, now, my maidens, take lance and take sword : 
 Go, milk the ewes, Gordon, for I will be lord I " 
 
 Up sprang the brave Gordon, put his helm on his head. 
 Laid his hand on his sword, and his thigh o'er his steed ; 
 But he stooped low and said, as he kissed his proud dame — 
 "There's a Gordon rides out that will never ride hame." 
 
 There rode wi' fierce Inverey thirty and three, 
 
 And nane wi' the Gordon save his brotlier and he ; 
 
 Twa gallanter Gordons did never sword draw, 
 
 But against three-and-thirty, wae's me ! what were twa ? ' 
 
 But here she stopped, in her idle and absent repetition. 
 For she had arrived at a field of young corn, and somewhere 
 over her head there was a lark pouring forth his melodious 
 silvery trills, and she wanted to discover where he was. 
 Yet in vain did she endeavour to pierce the blinding white 
 spaces of the sky ; he was nowhere visible ; though all the 
 listening air was filled with those pulsating floods of song. 
 So she carelessly wandered on again, not heeding much 
 whither she went ; keeping by the outer edge of the corn- 
 fields, now and again skirting some strip of copse or spinney, 
 and gazing with delight into the dim recesses, for all around 
 the foot of the trees were masses of a heavenly blue — not 
 the purple-blue of the wild hyacinth, but the clear, intense, 
 pellucid blue of the germander speedwell. And then, as she 
 still held onward, it seemed to her as though another sound 
 were invading — or increasing — the silence of the summer 
 morn : a sound hushed and remote — a murmuj constant 
 and unvarying — and more voluminous than the soft stirring 
 of the leaves around her. Had she then, in this fortuitous 
 fashion, drawn near the river ? But why not ? On Dee- 
 side all roads, paths, and byways eventually lead to the 
 I)ee. 
 
 Of a sudden she came upon the verge of a steep bank, 
 which was crowned by scattered clumps of Scotch firs ; and 
 there before her, stretching away over to the high and 
 wooded slopes on the other side, was the broad bosom of 
 the stream, the swaying and hurrying current sweeping 
 round the dark brown pools with an easy oily swing, and 
 then breaking out again into the open shallows, racing
 
 THE GORDONS OF GRANTLY 13 
 
 and chasing, sharp-glinting and shinunering in the glare 
 of the morning light, while a great breadth and blaze of 
 quivering diamonds lay immediately under the sun. Then, 
 after some little survey, she pitched upon a sheltered nook 
 for herself ; and it was through a perfect paradise of wild 
 flowers that she descended to the river — through tansfled 
 gorse and broom, with heart's-ease, dog-violets, yellow 
 bedstraw, speedwells of various kinds and hues, and glossy 
 and golden celandine all basking in the heat. It was a 
 gracious bower she had chosen for herself, by the side of an 
 alder-bush, and overlooking a rather deepish bit of the 
 water ; and here with much complacency she sat herself down 
 to listen to that monotonous, dreamy, drowsy sound, and 
 also to the music of a thrush that was carolling clear and 
 high from among the neighbouring leaves. This was a 
 beautiful world she foimd herself in ; and she had it all 
 to herself. 
 
 The river glanced, and chased, and swung along ; the 
 gorse burned in the sunshine ; the pervading stillness 
 seemed only to be intensified by that universal murmur 
 and whispering. And it was in a kind of haK-somnolent 
 mood that her purposeless brain went back to the story of 
 the two Gordons who were so foully done to death by 
 Inverey and his three-and-thirty men : 
 
 ' " came ye by Brackley, and what saw ye there ? 
 Was the young -widow weeping and tearing her hair?" 
 " I came down by Brackley ; I looked in, and, oh 1 
 There was mirth, there was feasting, but nacthing o' woe. 
 
 Like a rose bloomed the lady and blithe as a bride, 
 A bridegroom young Inverey stood by her side; 
 She feasted him there as she ne'er feasted lord, 
 Though the bluid o' her husband was red on his sword." 
 
 O there's dule in the cottage, but there's mirth in the ha', 
 For the twa bonnie Gordons that are deid and awa' ; 
 To the bush comes the bud, and the flower to tlie plain, 
 But the twa gallant Gordons come never again.' 
 
 'D' 
 
 And she was thinking that when next her nnolo and herself 
 were anywhere near Glen Muick she would like to go and 
 see Auchoilzie, where the two brave Gordons were slain : 
 she was thinking of that, or perhaps of sometliing else, or 
 perhaps of nothing at all — when
 
 14 BRISEIS 
 
 When suddenly a silver-white object leapt into the air 
 away on the other side of the river, falling again with a 
 startling splash on to the surface of the oily, smooth, brown 
 pool, and instantly disappearing. She stared in astonish- 
 ment. What was the unknown creature that had so mar- 
 vellously shown itself in this solitary world that she had 
 thought was tenanted by herself alone ? Then she reflected : 
 the Dee was a noted salmon river — that must have been a 
 salmon 1 And then again, as she regarded with the most 
 eager interest the smooth stretch of the stream, she per- 
 ceived something — she perceived some faint semblance of 
 a thread — a gray gossamer line only just visible against the 
 herbage of the opposite shore. Instinctively her eyes 
 followed upwards : the next moment she became aware 
 that this long line ended in a fishing-rod, and that the 
 fishing-rod was in the hands of some one — gentleman or 
 gamekeeper — who was coming rapidly along her side of 
 the river, reeling in as he advanced. Very well. She 
 would sit still and see the novel sport. For there is not 
 much doing with rod and reel in the arid channels of the 
 Cephissus, nor yet where the washerwomen of the Ilissus 
 ply their calling in the turbid pond once the Fountain of 
 Callirrhoe ; nor were the fishermen of her island-home of 
 A.egina likely to find a salmon in their nets. She would 
 wait and look on. Here was a tale to carry back to her 
 uncle. 
 
 But her equanimity was of short dm-ation. For to her 
 dismay she observed, by the manner in which the gray 
 thread was cutting the surface of the stream, that the fish 
 must be making straight in her direction ; and presently, 
 as the tightened and straining line was actually forcing its 
 way in among the branches of the alder-bush, she beheld 
 ])eneath her feet an olive-green creature that had come 
 sailing into the pool, and was now hanging there almost 
 motionless, its tail alone slightly moving, its head boring 
 down. What to do she knew not. She had a terrified 
 sense of being in the wrong somehow — she ought not to 
 be there — her intrusion could but make mischief — and 
 was there not enough peril brewing with that taut line 
 working in among the alder leaves ? JU-euthless, bewildered, 
 she regarded that creatine in the deeps below her, not with
 
 THE GORDONS OF GRANTLY 15 
 
 a pleased interest, but with a shrinking alarm ; and at 
 length, overcome with this nervous apprehension, she 
 could sit still no longer; she swiftly and stealthily struggled 
 to her feet, and retreated up the bank, glad to find a place 
 of shelter behind a clump of Scotch firs. When she 
 ventured to peep forth to see what was going on, she 
 perceived that the fish had headed out again into mid- 
 stream, while the fisherman seemed to be doing all he 
 could to pull him away from the proximity of that dan- 
 gerous bush. 
 
 Now when the fascinated eyes of Briseis Valieri had 
 been fixed on the mysterious object that lay suspended in 
 the pool, she had assumed that it was a large salmon ; but 
 it was nothing of the sort ; it was a small grilse of about 
 six or seven poimds ; and when a grilse of that size is 
 inclined to be lively, it forms an excellent imitation of an 
 electrical battery, that keeps sending continuous shocks 
 not to the ^Tists only, but to the very innermost soul of 
 the angler. Of course Briseis, from behind the firs, could 
 only in part make out what the beast was after. First he 
 held steadily over to the other side, until the weight of 
 the long and bellying line gave him pause. Then he 
 appeared on the surface, lashing and splashing with head 
 aud tail, and churning the water all aroimd him ; and in 
 these fitful glimpses he was no longer of a dull olive-green 
 but of a brUhant silver and purple. Then he disappeared ; 
 and the attaching gray thread remained motionless. Then 
 with an appalling rapidity he shot right in the direction of 
 his captor, who was seen to go backward along the bank aa 
 best he might, while he frantically reeled in until the top 
 of the rod had resumed its curve. Then the indomitable 
 small creature made over to the other side again, and for a 
 few seconds he lay there and sulked. Then he began to 
 move — slowly — slowly — until there was a sudden slackening 
 of the line, and a sinuous flash of splendour sprang into 
 the air, coming down again with a crash. All this was 
 very well, and very heroic ; but these successive discharges 
 from the electrical battery were diminishing its power. 
 After that last flourish the gallant little grilse grew more 
 and more amenable ; he suffered himself to be towed 
 nearer and nearer ; the angler took from his pocket a
 
 i6 BRTSEIS 
 
 bright metal instrument and adjusted it ; he shifted hia 
 rod to his left hand, holding it high ; he watched his 
 chance — then there was a cautious stoop— a quick gleam 
 of the gaff — and the next moment the flapping and 
 struggling fish was on the bank. The absorbed spectator 
 behind the trees imagined that this vicissitudinous fight 
 must have lasted an hour : in reality it had occupied 
 precisely eight minutes. 
 
 And now that she could breathe a little more freely she 
 thought she would step forth from her hiding-place, and 
 walk along the bank, and apologize to the angler for her 
 untoward presence. Whether he were gentleman or gillie 
 she could not make out as yet ; for he wore the ordinary 
 costume — knickerbockers, shooting-jacket, and stalker's cap ; 
 and he was stooping to fix a bit of string to the grilse, for 
 the easier carrying of it home. But the moment he be- 
 came aware that she was coming his way, and evidently 
 with the intention of speaking to him, he dropped the fish, 
 he most respectfully raised his cap, and even made some 
 show of advancing to meet her, to await her commands. 
 He was a tall and firmly-built young fellow of about five- 
 and-twenty, well-featured and pleasant of look, with clear 
 gray-blue eyes that seemed all the clearer because of the 
 light yellow sun-tan of his VQ^plexion. He appeared a 
 little surprised — and no wonda : for apparitions such as he 
 now saw before him are not con.mon on Dee-side. 
 
 As for her, she w^ent forward without the least trace of 
 shyness ; no touch of added colour was visible in the pure, 
 pale, transparent olive of cheek or forehead. It is true, her 
 eyes seemed to bespeak a little favouring consideration ; 
 but that was only natural — as she was a culprit. 
 
 " I wish to ask your pardon," she said, with great sweet- 
 ness — and surely since ever the world began no more 
 nuLsically-toned voice had ever reached a young man's 
 car — " I wish to ask your pardon, sir, if I have done any 
 harm. I had no idea you were fisliing " 
 
 " Oh, but it's quite the other way round ! " said he, 
 promptly, and even anxiously. "Quite the other way 
 round, I assure you ! You did me a very good turn 
 iiidocd ; I am exceedingly o])ligcd to you. Your getting 
 up on the l»aiik frightened the fish out into the stream
 
 THE GORDONS OF GRANTLY 17 
 
 when lie was very nearly breaking me in that alder-bush. 
 I am extremely obliged to you " 
 
 The Greek girl's dark and lustrous eyes, with their 
 highly - curved, wondering, attentive eyebrows, looked 
 pleased. 
 
 "That is fortunate — very fortunate indeed," said she, 
 with a smile of thanks. " But I will not run any such 
 risk again. I will keep away from the river " 
 
 " Oh, I hope not I " he protested. " Why should you ? 
 What possible harm can you do ? For one thing, this isn't 
 fishing weather at all. I was not even trying the ordinary 
 pools ; I was merely putting a fly over one or two of the 
 runs ; as you see, I did not think it worth while to bring a 
 gillie with me. You must not dream of keeping away from 
 the river ! " 
 
 Shyness and embarrassment ?— they were certainly not 
 on her side. It was he who was disconcerted and be- 
 wildered ; the splendour of her eyes abashed him ; this slim 
 slip of a girl, in the sweet graciousness of her self-possession, 
 was stronger than he ; he hardly knew what to say next. 
 And yet he had to make some desperate effort, or in 
 another moment she would be away — vanishing out of hia 
 life as though she had never existed. 
 
 " I hope you won't think me rude," said he, " but — bul 
 there are few visitors coming about these parts at this timt 
 of the year ; and I wonder whether it could have been you 
 that I saw yesterday, from a distance, going into the 
 Gordon Arms, along with an elderly gentleman. For the 
 day before I had a note, dated from the inn, from a 
 Mr. Elliott " 
 
 " That is my uncle," said she, simply. 
 
 "And I was very glad to give him any permission he 
 
 may have thought necessary " he was continuing, when 
 
 she interrupted him. 
 
 " Then you are Sir Francis Gordon ? " she said, her faco 
 lighting up with a new interest. 
 
 " Yes " 
 
 " Oh, but I must thank you ever so much for the very 
 kind and friendly note you sent to my uncle. He would 
 have written to you himself, but he has been so busy 
 yesterday and this morning "
 
 1 8 B RISE IS 
 
 " I am sure there is no occasion," said he — and perhaps 
 the subtle freemasonry of youth was ah-eady establishing 
 itself between these two ; perhaps for the moment they 
 had forgotten town-proprieties; it seemed natm'al enough 
 and right enough, strangers as they were, for these two 
 young folk to be tarrying and interchanging a few half- 
 hesitating words here on the banks of the cool-murmuring 
 stream, in the blaze of sunlight, among the wild flowers of 
 the early summer. " Nor was there much need," he went 
 on, " that your uncle should ask permission to go through 
 the Grantly woods. One thing is very certain : it is the 
 people who have the courtesy to ask permission who can be 
 trusted everywhere not to do any injury " 
 
 " Oh, I assm'e you," said Briseis, " that my uncle is most 
 scrupulous — most scrupulous, to the smallest particular. 
 If we are away for the whole day, and have our scrap of 
 luncheon on some hillside or on the bank of a burn, he has 
 every little bit of wrapping-paper and every little bit of 
 string carefully buried, so that not the least trace shall 
 remain." 
 
 " If they were all like that 1 " said he, ruefully. " I 
 wonder if the tourists and excm'sionists know how many 
 private parks and grounds are closed against them that 
 might otherwise be open to them but for their thoughtless 
 behaviour ? Why, later on in the year, when a band of 
 excursionists comes out from Aberdeen to this neighbour- 
 hood, what do they immediately set about ? — putting their 
 dogs to hunt tlie rabbits, breaking off branches from the 
 flowering shrubs, and strewing the place all over with 
 empty lemonade-bottles, and paper bags stained with straw- 
 berries. It is ignorance, of course. They don't know any 
 better. But it is distressing to go about the next morning 
 and see the litter they have left behind them — even on the 
 lawn seats and tlie terraces — everywhere about. Naturally 
 the gardeners complain ; it is all added work to them ; and 
 they would liave me adopt a policy of rigorous exclusion. 
 I don't like to do that either. I don't want to play dog in 
 the manger. I'm sm-e those people would be heartily 
 welcome if they'd only be a little more considerate — if they 
 
 could be got to understand liow unfair it is " Then 
 
 all at once he jammed down his helm and was off on
 
 THE GORDONS OF GRANTLY 19 
 
 another tack : this was not the way to entertain a young 
 lady. " It has just occurred to me, Miss EUiott," said he — 
 and she did not care to correct the Httle mistake — " that I 
 could get much more extended permission for you and your 
 uncle if you were remaining in this country-side. I could 
 got you letters that would make you free of the forests, and 
 would secure for you help rather than hindrance from the 
 keepers " 
 
 " Indeed, we have always found them most civil," she 
 answered him ; " though sometimes they have seemed 
 anxious that we should go away down to the valleys 
 again " 
 
 " That may have been when you were getting too near 
 the sanctuary," said he. " But if I get you those letters, 
 you would find both keepers and watchers only too ready 
 to be your guide. Will you aUow me ? If I can get one or 
 two for you by to-morrow afternoon, may I call with them ? " 
 
 " Oh, thank you, it is so very kind of you — my uncle will 
 be so much obliged to you ! " said she. And then she gave 
 him one of her sweetest smiles — with her eyes ; and a little 
 bow as well ; and tm'ned away and was gone : leaving him 
 standing there as if he had been in dreamland, and vaguely 
 wondering why he had been such an immeasurable fool as 
 not to have offered to shake hands with her on parting. 
 
 When Briseis retm'ned to the inn, she told her uncle of 
 her having met Sir Francis Gordon of Grantly, and of the 
 young man having promised to bring along one or two 
 letters which might be of use to them when they happened 
 to be in the neighbom'hood of the deer forests. 
 
 " Civility," said the old botanist, " is the best passport 
 everywhere. I have never found it fail. In all my years 
 of wandering in Scotland I have never had to bandy a word 
 with any one, when once I had explained my errand, and 
 asked for information as to where I should be doing no 
 harm." 
 
 Nevertheless, when on the following afternoon young 
 Gordon drove up to the inn, and alighted from the dog- 
 cart, and was shown into the room where uncle and niece 
 had been respectively -writing and reading, Sir. Elliott was 
 profuse of thanks for those talismanic missives that had 
 been procured in so remarkably short a space of time. 
 
 C 2
 
 20 BRISEIS. 
 
 " Oh, that is nothing — that is but a trifling coui-tesy to 
 one of your name and lineage," said this young Frank 
 Gordon, who had a most pleasant and modest manner. 
 "No doubt they were very glad to be of the slightest 
 service to you ; there are few families in Scotland better 
 known or more respected than the Elliotts of the Lea." 
 
 At this tie old botanist blushed slightly, and glanced 
 furtively towards his niece ; for the fact is he had not told 
 Briseis that in writing to Sir Francis Gordon for permission 
 to explore the Grautly woods he had contrived to mention 
 his kinsmanship with that famous house, as some kind of 
 voucher for his position. But Briseis did not notice ; she 
 had turned to this young stranger, who seemed so kindly- 
 intentioned, and so anxious to win favour. 
 
 " Oh, and I am very proud of the name too," said she, 
 smiling, " though I myself have no right to it." 
 
 Frank Gordon looked perplexed, and even a little em- 
 barrassed ; but of course he could not put a question. It 
 was old John Elliott who interposed. 
 
 " My niece," said he, " is an Elliott only by her mother's 
 side — my sister, poor thing." 
 
 And as these tentative explanations appeared to involve 
 some trifle of constraint — pointing to the absence of any 
 formal introduction, and so forth — Briseis herself resolved 
 the situation by asking their guest whether he would not 
 have some tea. He thankfully accepted ; and for the 
 moment the difiiculty was got over ; though he was all the 
 time conscious that he did not even yet know her name. 
 
 He staid an indefensible length of time ; for they were 
 practically strangers to this district ; and he had plenty to 
 tell them about where they ought to go and what they 
 ought to see. And for the most part he addressed himself 
 to the old botanist ; when in the com-se of talk he had to 
 turn to this beautiful Greek creature, it was in a diffident 
 sort of way ; he seemed afraid of the glow of those splendid 
 black eyes. And yet, afraid or not afraid, nothing would 
 satisfy him but that uncle and niece should come out the 
 very next day to have a look over Grantly Castle. 
 
 " It isn't much of a show-place," said he, " though the 
 excursionists from Aberdeen appear to think it is. And if 
 we cannot let you see a Fairy Flag, such as they have at
 
 THE GORDONS OF GRANTLY 21 
 
 Dunvegan, or a Brooch of Lorn, such as they have at 
 DunoUie, still there are a few things might interest you ; 
 and besides that, the Castle itself is a very good specimen 
 of the Scotch baronial style of architecture. You might 
 pass an hour or two " 
 
 Old John Elliott looked timidly and inquiringly towards 
 his niece ; and she responded frankly enough — 
 
 " Oh, thank you very much ; we shall be delighted : my 
 uncle deserves a rest after his labours of the last two days. 
 And what hour will be most convenient for you ? " 
 
 " No, no ; what hour will be most convenient for you ? 
 The gardens are freshest in the morning, of course. But 
 perhaps it will be better to leave it this way : ' Come as 
 soon as you can, and stay as long as you can.' — And that's 
 a Dee-side welcome." 
 
 Thereupon young Gordon got up to say good-bye ; and 
 this time he did not forget to shake hands with the Greek 
 girl ; while she did not hesitate to bestow on him a look 
 of great sweetness, as if to thank him again for his kindness 
 to two strangers. There was some final understanding that 
 they were to go out to Grantly Castle on the following 
 morning. 
 
 He drove rapidly home, paused for a second to let the 
 groom get to the cob's head, then he descended, and walked 
 into the big stone-paved hall. On the table there were a 
 number of letters lying ; and these he carelessly took up, 
 to look at the envelopes. But one of them appeared to 
 arrest his attention ; the address was in a foreign hand : 
 
 A Son Altesse Boyale, le prince de Monteveltro ; 
 Chez Monsieur, 
 
 M. sir Francis Gordon, 
 Grantly Castle, 
 Aberdeenshire, 
 ilcosse. 
 
 He turned from the table, and sent his voice echoing 
 through the hollow-sounding hall : 
 
 "Aunt Jean ! — are you anywhere about ?— Aunt Jean — 
 are you there ? " 
 
 " Here I am, laddie : what is't you want ? " a voice 
 answered him ; and presently, at the top of the wide oaken 
 staircase, there appeared Miss Jean Gordon. She was a tall
 
 22 BRISEIS 
 
 and fair-complexioned woman, rather elderly and rather 
 plain, but with cheerful and good-humoured eyes. 
 
 " Didn't you see this ? " he said to her, holding out the 
 letter. " Does it mean that the Mater is coming on here 
 at once, just as I had got everything ready to go up to 
 London ? " 
 
 He advanced to the foot of the staircase ; she came down 
 the steps, and took the envelope from him, and regarded it. 
 
 " No, no," said she ; " there must be some mistake. 
 Your mother's last letter to me was from Nice ; and she 
 said they meant to go straight through to London, to 
 Thomas's Hotel, and would be there for a considerable 
 time. This must be the blundering of some courier or 
 valet " 
 
 He received the letter back and looked at it thoughtfully. 
 
 "I never know what that excellent step-papa of mine 
 may be up to," he observed. " He may be wanting to 
 escape out of the hands of the diplomats and seek sanctuary 
 here — for himself and his two black poodles." Then of a 
 sudden he changed his tone. " Aunt Jean," said he, " we 
 are going to have two visitors here to-morrow — two strangers 
 to the neighbourhood, who w^ould like to look over the 
 Castle and about the grounds. And I didn't ask them 
 formally to lunch ; but to-morrow, when they are here 
 anyway, and when it's about lunch-time, I mean to propose 
 it promiscuous-like ; and of course they will stay. And I 
 wish you would see that McKillop sends in plenty of 
 flowers for the table — and for decoration all about — plenty 
 of them — plenty — Confound him, he's nothing but an old 
 miser " 
 
 " Is she so very pretty, Frank ? " Aunt Jean inquired, 
 witli a demure smile. 
 
 " Who told you there was a ' she ' in the case ? " he 
 denmndcd, loftily. 
 
 " There usually is," said Miss Jean Gordon. " Especially 
 when a young gentleman is so particular about flowers for 
 the luncheon-table." 
 
 " Very well, tlien, Aunt Jean, I will tell you honestly : 
 she is just about the most beautiful creature you ever 
 beheld ; and I don't see why you shouldn't be as much 
 interested in her as I am ; I don't see why you should
 
 THE GORDONS OF GRANTLY 23 
 
 think there's nothing in the world worth admiring except 
 old china and old lace. You know, Aunt Jean, I'm not 
 much given to rave about young women ; but you should 
 see this one ; why, she bewilders you " 
 
 " She won't bewilder me," said Aunt Jean, shrewdly. 
 
 " She is a Greek girl," he continued — and it seemed to 
 afford him much pleasure to stand there and talk eagerly 
 about the marvellous stranger. " I gathered as much from 
 her Christian name — which isn't Chi-istian, by-the-way, but 
 pagan, A Greek goddess she is ! — in figure, and height, 
 and symmetry ; but not of the severe type either — oh, no ! 
 most womanly and winning in expression. Beautiful ? — 
 but wait till you see ! What I can't understand is why 
 she should have remained unmarried ! She must have seen 
 lots of men — in her own country — in England — even 
 wandering about on those botanising excursions with her 
 uncle — men presumably with eyes in their head " 
 
 " She may not wish to be married," retorted Miss Jean, 
 rather tartly. " "Why should she ? They say that a woman 
 ought to marry in order to have an object. "Well, when 
 she does, she generally gets one ! " 
 
 Jean Gordon — Jean Gordon ! But now she was moving 
 off — for the dressing-bell was beginning to sound ; and she 
 was as particular about the punctuality of dinner as though 
 there had been twenty guests staying in the house. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 AUNT CLAEA. 
 
 But next morning found old John Elliott in an appre- 
 hensive, restless, fidgety mood ; nay, he was inclined to be 
 peevish and fretful. 
 
 " I'm not used to going among strangers, Briseis," he 
 said. " I don't like it — it won-ies me " 
 
 " Why, uncle," she remonstrated, " didn't you hear Sir 
 Francis say there was no one staying at the Castle — no one 
 except his aunt, who always lives there " 
 
 " And it is too far for you to walk, along a dusty road," 
 he continued, plaintively. " Even if they have a dog-cart
 
 24 BRISEIS 
 
 at the inn here, there would be the cost of it — for what ? — < 
 the expense of a dog-cart — for what ? " 
 
 Now part of this conversation had been overheard by 
 the servant-lass who was bringing in breakfast ; and she, 
 with the friendly familiarity of the Scotch domestic, made 
 no scruple about intervening, 
 
 " I beg your pardon, sir," said she, " but there's a 
 wagonette and pair come in from Grantly, sir, and they're 
 in the stable-yard, and the coachman says Sir Francis 
 ordered him jist to wait for your convenience, sir." 
 
 " Oh, well, I suppose we must go," the old botanist 
 eaid to his niece, though with evident reluctance. " I 
 dare say there will be no further letters until the afternoon 
 post " 
 
 " Uncle," she answered him, coaxingly, " you must give 
 those people in the south a little time. In the case of the 
 Societies you could not expect an answer until after their 
 next meeting, when the various Secretaries will be asked to 
 acknowledge your communication " 
 
 " But there were the telegrams to my personal friends " 
 
 " And what could they reply ? " she went on, in her 
 persuasive and musical tones, " No doubt they were very 
 glad to learn of the discovery ; and no doubt they thought 
 you were very lucky. Of course you will hear from them 
 sooner or later, when they have leisure to write ; but in the 
 meantune you must have a day or two of idleness ; and 
 then we will set to work again — that is, you will set to 
 work, and make more wonderful discoveries, and I will 
 tramp over the hills with you, and wish I could be of some 
 help." 
 
 It was difficult to withstand the subtle and singular 
 charm of her voice ; he usually yielded ; and yield he did 
 on this occasion ; so that about eleven o'clock the wagonette 
 was brought round to the front of the inn, and uncle and 
 niece went out and took their places. Then ensued a most 
 blithe and inspiriting drive along the valley of the Dee, the 
 winding road giving them occasional glimpses of the broad- 
 sweeping and glancing stream, or again plunging them into 
 scattered woods of larch and birch and pine. Then they 
 came to a lodge gate and entered ; the wagonette rolled 
 smoothly along the wide carriage-way ; until of a sudden
 
 AUNT CLARA 25 
 
 Briseis grasped the arm of her companion, who had at the 
 moment been plunged in profomid meditation : 
 
 " Look, uncle, look ! — isn't it noble ! — isn't it splendid ! " 
 
 And yet this tall and gaunt keep was not imposing by 
 reason of its spacious dimensions, though otherwise ii was 
 picturesque enough. The structure was lofty in proportion 
 to its restricted base ; the windows were for the most part 
 narrow, deeply-recessed, scattered unevenly here and there ; 
 the surmounting angle turrets had conical roofs suggestive 
 of French Gothic ; the gables showed ' corbie-steps ' ; and 
 crowning all, up against the blue and white, a weather-cock 
 was perched airily on a tiny golden ball. A building of 
 solid and severe aspect, perhaps ; but the surrounding 
 grounds were more modern and more cheerful — the trim 
 terraces, the grassy slopes velvet-smooth, the long range of 
 greenhouses, the blazing masses of colour in flower-beds and 
 plots, the partition-walls smothered in the dark green foliage 
 of apricot and fig, the sunlit woods trending down to the river. 
 From this high plateau, indeed, there was a wide-stretching 
 view, not the least conspicuous feature being Scoulter Hill 
 with its ruined tower, far away in the silvery west. 
 
 And here was the young laird coming bareheaded down 
 the steps to receive his guests ; and up there at the hall 
 door was Miss Jean Gordon, her shrewd eyes not too 
 evidently scanning. The welcome that the visitors now 
 received was of the most friendly kind — in its Scotch 
 fashion almost too insistent — for who wanted cake and 
 wine and fruit at this time of the day ? — and who needed 
 rest after so pleasant a drive ? — in truth, Briseis, who was 
 ever hungry and athirst for sweet air, and svmshine, and 
 open landscape — Briseis so avowedly lingered without — 
 gazing abroad on the variegated garden, and the glimpses 
 of the river through the trees, and the rising and swelling 
 uplands beyond — that young Gordon was forced to alter 
 the form of his invitation. 
 
 " Perhaps you would rather stroll about for a bit," he 
 suggested, " and have a look at the greenhouses ? " 
 
 " Oh yes ; wouldn't you, uncle ? " she made answer, 
 promptly. " They are such beautiful gardens 1 I have 
 not seen any gardens like these since we were at Drummond 
 Castle, in Perthshire." — And if the young laird was in anj
 
 26 BRISEIS 
 
 way proud of his paternal inheritance, that was a compliment 
 surely ! 
 
 So the four of them set forth on a sauntering perambula- 
 tion, walking two and two for convenience' sake ; they 
 passed under the canopied vines, house after house ; then 
 out again, and through part of the ' policies ' skirting the 
 woods ; then back into the basking and brilliant garden. 
 And while the old botanist was descanting to Miss Jean on 
 the origin of this or that cultivated plant or shrub, young 
 Frank Gordon, with a shy ingenuity, was putting questions 
 to his companion, about herself, her knowledge of Scotland, 
 her pursuits, while also he was incidentally telling her a 
 good deal about his own occupations and plans. Briseis 
 listened with a smiling acquiescence ; she did not say much, 
 but her eyes were amiable ; and whether she spoke or was 
 silent, she seemed to be drinking in the beauty of the 
 things around her with a constant and perhaps half-un- 
 conscious delight. The fragrance wafted hither and thither, 
 the warm sweet air, the sunshine and azure sky, the radiant 
 glow of colour in the garden, the stir and silver-glancing of 
 glossy leaves : these were happy surroundings — for a grace- 
 lessly idle creature, whose chief and distinguishing facidty 
 appeared to be that of enjoying every minute and second of 
 her life. 
 
 Then, as they chanced to be walking along one of the 
 upper terraces, Frank Gordon pulled out his watch. 
 
 " Just luncheon-time ! " he cried. " Come away in — 
 Aunt Jean will tell you that starvation and fainting fits are 
 not allowed at Grantly." 
 
 It was not a very sumptuous banqueting-hall they were 
 ushered into — this long, low compartment, with its wainscot 
 of panelled oak and its five or six plain windows ; but it 
 had some interesting family portraits — the men of them 
 appearing by their uniform to have been mostly admirals 
 and generals ; and it had several fiery and fuliginous battle- 
 pieces, chiefly of naval engagements ; wliile the luncheon- 
 table was set forth in quite a bright modern way, with an 
 abundance of flowers. And perhaps Jean Gordon, who sat 
 at the head of the board, was listening to the old botanist's 
 tale of his many experiences in the wilder parts of Scotland, 
 or perhaps she was only perfunctorily heeding him ; at all
 
 AUNT CLARA vj 
 
 events, she beheld what she had never beheld before, and 
 that was the assiduous and diffident and respectful court 
 that her nephew was paying to this Greek girl with the 
 gracious ways and the resplendent eyes. "Well did the 
 amused Miss Jean know that this was not at all the young 
 man's ordinary habit. She was acquainted with him. She 
 had studied him — in no unfriendly fashion either. And she 
 had heard tell of him at Oxford too : how that even during 
 Commemoration week those pretty pieces of femininity 
 who come fluttering from college to college like so many 
 butterflies appeared to have no attraction for him whatever. 
 Nor could it be said that this was owing to cruel neglect on 
 the side of those young persons ; they seemed willing to 
 accord him a fair share of notice ; for he was exceedingly 
 good-looking, and he was merry and pleasant-humoured and 
 ever ready for a frolic ; but somehow his soul was rather 
 set on sports and athletics ; and when these happened to 
 fail him, a pipe and a meditative stroll along the tow-path 
 appeared better to suit his fancy than consorting with 
 muslin. But now — but now ! Jean Gordon's demure 
 eyes saw a good deal more than they seemed to see. Not 
 that there was any intentional sentimentalizing on the lad's 
 part ; no trace of such a thing was in his nature ; the frank 
 and open good-comradeship he was ready to offer to any 
 one whom he chanced to meet and like was not of a kind to 
 lead to the little appeals and secret understandings of sham 
 love-making. Indeed, what Miss Jean chiefly remarked on 
 this occasion was that the young laird was clearly so well 
 pleased by his companion of the moment that he was rather 
 tempted to let his boyish gaiety get the better of him ; and 
 that again and again he had to recall himself, resuming that 
 attitude of shy deference that became him very well in the 
 presence of this beautiful stranger. Good-comradeship was 
 all very excellent in its way ; but this Greek girl was too 
 august somehow — too serene and remote — in spite of the 
 sweetness and charm of her manner and the unmistakable 
 friendliness of her regard. So, notwithstanding that he 
 was by birth and lineage and personal temperament one of 
 'the gay Gordons,' he subdued himself and kept himself 
 humbly respectful ; he was like a school-boy waiting upon a 
 great lady ; and when she turned her glorious eyes upon him,
 
 28 BRISEIS 
 
 his own rather shrank avrav from that overpowerins: be- 
 wilderment. Jean Gordon thouirht that the vouns: laird of 
 Grantly had met with his match — and more than his match 
 — this time. 
 
 And then he would have his guests go for a stroll round 
 the hall, to look at the old armour and the stags' heads ; 
 and many a tale he had to tell of both ; with now and 
 acrain an anecdote of this or that one among the more noted 
 of his forebears. Perhaps he did not treat those ancestors 
 of his with the reverence which their deeds of love and 
 valour and their territorial designations demanded ; but it 
 is the wav of vouth — especiallv of a modest vouth — to make 
 light of such thiugs ; and there was not much boasting or 
 showing off about this young man. He pretended not to 
 remember whether it was a head of seventeen or of eighteen 
 points that caused the Duke of Gordon, when he discovered 
 what a magnificent stag he had shot, to exclaim, in despair : 
 'And now there is nothing left for me to live for.' He 
 did not know where Gleulogie was, or even whether there 
 was such a place, though Briseis herself could quote for him 
 a couplet out of the old ballad : 
 
 ' He turned about lightly, as the Gordons does a' ; 
 '• I thank you. Lady Jean ; my love's promised awa'." ' 
 
 " And are all the Gordons as light of heart as that ? " 
 asked this tall yoimg Greek creature, with her inscrutable, 
 enchanting smile. 
 
 " Oh no," he made answer, almost bashfully. " It is 
 impossible to say how those epithets got attached to the 
 different families in the north — I suppose through the 
 chance of alliteration mostly — the gallant Grahams, the gay 
 Gordons, the fighting Frasere, and so on. And if you know 
 that very ballad, ^Miss Yalieri, you will remember that Gleu- 
 logie was not so hard of heart after all ; for he married 
 ' bonnie Jeanie Melville, who was scarce sixteen years old.' " 
 
 And so they wandered about the dim, stone-paved, 
 hollow-sounding hall, examining clavmorcs, dirks, targes, 
 and old powder-horns, trying to make out the phantom 
 figm*es in the breadths of faded tapestry, and telling or 
 hearing about all kinds of people and places and things — 
 about the Queen's coming to Balmoral on the following
 
 AUNT CLARA 29 
 
 week ; about the Farquliarsons of Dee-side, and the Lind- 
 says, and the Irvines of Drum ; about Lord Lewis Gordon 
 and the '45 — 
 
 'O send Lewie Gordon hame, 
 And the lad I daurna name I* 
 
 But in course of time the old botanist grew more and more 
 abstracted ; it was clear to Briseis that he was thinking of 
 the afternoon post, and of the expected communications 
 from the south ; besides, both of them knew that young 
 Gordon was going up to London by that night's mail-train. 
 And so, in spite of many protests, and with many thanks 
 and good wishes, the visit came to an end ; the wagonette 
 was brought round ; and Frank Gordon and his Aunt Jean 
 stood at the top of the steps watching their departing 
 guests until a curve in the drive hid them from sight. And 
 then it was that the young man turned to his companion. 
 
 " What now, Aunt Jean ? What do you say now ? " he 
 demanded, with something of triumph in his tone. 
 
 But Aunt Jean did not answer him at once. She re- 
 garded bim for a second, curiously. 
 
 " I have often wondered, Frank," said she, " what kind 
 of woman would prove attractive to you. And — and I'm 
 glad it's that kind." 
 
 There was a flash of boyish delight in his eyes ; but at 
 the same time he said, reproachfully : 
 
 " Why, you talk as if there were whole heaps of them 1 
 You talk as if there were a whole race of such women. Come, 
 now. Aunt Jean — honestly, now — honestly — did you ever in 
 all your life come across any girl or woman half as fine and 
 wonderful as that one — so perfect in her manner — so 
 winning in her disposition — and so extraordinarily beautiful 
 too ? " 
 
 Aunt Jean smiled. 
 
 " Lad, laddie," she exclaimed, " I am saying nothing 
 against her 1 Nothing of the kind ! I would rather be on 
 her side. If it comes to that, I will say this for her, that 
 she has the most bewitchingly musical voice I ever heard iu 
 my born days. And when she was going along the terrace 
 I thought she walked just as a swan swims— breasting the 
 air, as it were — as graceful a thing as ever I saw "
 
 30 BRISEIS 
 
 "Didn't I tell you 1 didn't I tell you!" he cried, 
 eagerly. 
 
 " A strange girl, too," said Aunt Jean, thinking back, 
 " with her modest little apologies for being at once useless 
 and perfectly happy. Well, I could not say it to her face, 
 but indeed I was thinking it all the time, that there were 
 plenty of women useless enough who could not make you 
 pleased and satisfied-like with just looking at them. A 
 rare, fine creature that, or my name's not Jean Gordon." 
 Aunt Jean was silent for another second or so. "And 
 there's one thing I would say to yourself, Frank, my man. 
 If you have a thought of bringing some one home to this 
 old house, you'll not find me in the way, nor will she ; 
 neither the one nor the other of ye ; I'll just pack up my 
 bits of things and be off to Ediuljurgh— there's the Car- 
 michaels — the Ramsays — there will always be a corner for 
 me somewhere " 
 
 But at this a prodigious blush overspread his handsome, 
 boyish face ; and in his embarrassment he could hardly win 
 to articulate utterance. 
 
 " Aunt Jean ! — why — what — what are you thinking of ? 
 Do you imagine — I could have any such fancies in my head ? 
 — a mere stranger — a perfect stranger like that — though I 
 thought you would be interested in her — yes, I certainly 
 thought that — and I wanted to be civil to the old gentle- 
 man But how can you imagine I had any fancies of 
 
 that kind ? " 
 
 "I don't know — I don't know," Miss Jean answered, 
 cautiously. " She is just winsome enough to turn any lad's 
 head, and that's the truth ; and there would be no great 
 madness about it, either, as far as I can make out ; for you 
 don't need to many for money, Frank ; and tlie Elliotts of 
 the Lea are as old a family as the Gordons of Grantly. So 
 give me notice when ye please " 
 
 " Oh yes," said he, and he put his hand within her arm 
 to lead her into the house again. " Precisely. Just so. 
 And what would Grantly be witliout Aunt Jean ? " 
 
 AV ell, she patted the hand that lay on her arm ; for she 
 was very fond of this lad — and very proud of him too, 
 though he liadn't done much to speak of, as yet. 
 
 " It is very generous of my young lord," said Aunt Jean,
 
 AUNT CLARA 31 
 
 half -laughing, " to talk like that to his humble dependent. 
 But she knows her place ; and when the bride comes home, 
 all she'll want will be just to get a kiss from her — and then 
 off by train to Edinburgh town." And then Aunt Jean, 
 who was not an effusive sort of person, abruptly said : 
 " Frank, laddie, mind you see that Wentworth puts your 
 Tarn o' Shanter in yom* travelling-bag, for there's nothing 
 so soft to the head when you're in a railway carriage." 
 
 Meanwhile old John Elliott and his niece had been driven 
 rapidly away towards Sanchory ; and when they at length 
 arrived there, and entered the inn, and opened the door of 
 the parlour, his first and eager glance was directed to the 
 sideboard, where a number of letters and newspapers lay 
 extended in a row. And he would have gone quickly for- 
 ward to examine these and seize his own, but that at the 
 same moment he became aware of the presence of a stranger 
 in the room — some one seated in the dusk between the two 
 windows — and to his amazement he found Briseis ex- 
 claiming : 
 
 " Why, Aunt Clara ! And you did not let us know you 
 were coming ! " 
 
 And in his inordinate surprise he even forgot the coveted 
 letters. 
 
 " I hope there's no ill news, Clara," he said, with sudden 
 and nervous apprehension. 
 
 This Mrs. Alexander Elliott who had now risen to re- 
 ceive their greeting was a middle-aged woman, rather short 
 and stout of figure, but with a pinched and careworn face, 
 her hair gray or yellowish-gray, her eyes somewhat sad and 
 tired, and yet shrewd enough, her mouth thin-lipped and 
 resolute. She gave one the impression of an indomitable, 
 unjoyouskind of little woman, who had come through many 
 trials, and was not even yet hkely to give up in despair. 
 
 " No, there's no ill news. Uncle John," said she; "at 
 least I hope you'll not regard it that way. And you'll have 
 to forgive me for appearing intrusive and importunate. I 
 know how difficult it is to write and explain ; and when you 
 have written and tried to explain, it's so easy for the answer 
 to be put off and put off, or forgotten altogether. So I 
 thought I would come right through and see yourself, as 
 Boon as I could find out where you were "
 
 32 B RISE IS 
 
 " Is it about money, Clara ? " John Elliott said, timor- 
 ously. 
 
 " It's about Edward," she replied. And then she went 
 on quickly and anxiously : " You know how I have slaved 
 and toiled, on poor enough means, to give those three boys 
 a fair start in the world — perhaps even to the neglecting of 
 the girls. Have I not done everything for them ? Did 
 ever any mother do more ? I led or followed them into 
 every one of their studies, keeping pace with them, and 
 night after night, when all the house was asleep, sitting up hour 
 after hour, just to get a bit ahead of them, and be able to 
 coach them for their examinations. And I'm sure the girls 
 have helped too — making their own dresses as well as they 
 could — and scrimping themselves of their pocket-money. 
 Not but that we've had our reward in one way. Look at 
 the result — though perhaps it is not for me to boast. 
 There's John at Sandhurst, doing splendidly ; there's 
 Alexander on the Warspite ; and now there's Edward, who 
 has a grand prospect before him, if ever there was one. 
 For he has just passed his University Certificate Examina- 
 tion, and that would enable him to enter at Caius College, 
 Cambridge — it's Caius most of the medical students make 
 for, I believe — and he would have no bother about matricu- 
 lation ; then if he did anything near as well at Caius as he 
 has done at King's College — followed by some practical 
 work at the hospitals — he would make just an invaluable 
 junior partner for some well-known doctor ; indeed I may 
 say he is universally popular, owing to his pleasant manners 
 and his cleverness. But then, Uncle John, three years at 
 Cambridge ■" 
 
 Uncle John had been growing more and more uneasy ; 
 he knew what was coming. And yet he could not but listen 
 with respect to this piteous appeal from the poor mother. 
 
 " Two hundred and fifty pounds a year at least," she 
 continued ; " perhaps two hundred and eighty — though he 
 is a most considerate and economical boy ; and how am I 
 to provide that without the help of one or two relatives ? 
 And I know I ought not to come to you ; you have been 
 BO generous to me so many times before ; but here is a very 
 special juncture — it will be the making of Edward's career 
 — if you can find it in your heart to help us "
 
 AVNT CLARA 33 
 
 "But, Clara," said old John Elliott, nervously and 
 hui'riedly, " it is impossible ! — quite impossible — I'm very 
 sorry — you know I should be only too glad to do anything 
 for you and yours — but there are circumstances — the plain 
 truth is, I have not the means. But — but why don't you 
 go to Sir Patrick ? — he is the head of the family " 
 
 " Sir Patrick Elliott ? " said she, with a touch of scorn 
 even amidst her plaintive suspense. "I know him. I 
 know what I should get from him. I should get a 
 grandiloquent lecture, and a civil good-day- " 
 
 And now it was that Briseis Valieri interposed. 
 
 " You won't think me too bold. Aunt Clara, will you ? " 
 she said, in her soft and persuasive tones. " But I often 
 reproach myself with being so idle and useless ; and now 
 you might give me the opportunity of being of a little 
 help. Shall I show you how simply it could be done ? 
 The money that my father left me was put into the India 
 Three-per-Cents ; then my uncle here heard of some 
 American railway bonds, quite safe, that were paying six 
 per cent. ; and after he had consulted with one or two 
 people — to make sure, you know — we changed the money 
 over to the American bonds, so that my income was actually 
 doubled. Now, Aunt Clara, if you were to take the half of 
 the capital — if that would be of use to you in my cousin's 
 education — don't you see that I should have exactly the 
 same income that I had before the change was made ? Is 
 not that quite clear ? I should be none the worse — you 
 would be all the better " 
 
 So far John Elliott had listened, with symptoms of an 
 ever-increasing distress become visible ; but now he could 
 bear the situation no longer. 
 
 " Briseis," said he, in the strangest way, " you don't 
 understand about such things. You can't understand 
 about them at all. There are some circimistances that I 
 must explain to your aunt. Would you mind — would you 
 mind leaving us alone together for a few moments ? " 
 
 She looked from one to the other in mute astonishment. 
 But she said, as she moved to the door — and her parting 
 look was surely one of exceeding kindliness and good- 
 will : 
 
 " At least you will remember, Aunt Clara, that the half 
 
 I)
 
 34 BRISEIS 
 
 of what I have is yonrs, if you will take it : the rest is 
 quite sufficieut for mc." 
 
 The moment she was gone John Elliott rose from his 
 seat and began pacing up and down, in great agitation. 
 
 "That is a noble-hearted creature, John," his sister-in- 
 law began to say, " though of course one hesitates about 
 accepting such an offer from a mere girl " 
 
 " Clara, she has not a penny 1 " he broke in, excitedly. 
 " Not a penny 1 And it's all my doing. I advised her. 
 I heard of these railway bonds through Philip Murray — 
 you remember Philip Murray in Edinburgh ; and he had 
 made ample inquiries— a First Mortgage it was — the 
 Denville Valley First Mortgage Guaranteed — and he was 
 so convinced of its safety that he put £8000 of his own 
 money into it. Well, I laid the matter before Briseis ; I 
 thought it was a good chance for her ; and she assented 
 only too readily ; the fact is, I don't suppose she cared one 
 way or the other ; she has no thought for money matters — 
 her wants are so simple " 
 
 " And do you mean to say that her little fortune is 
 entirely gone ? " his sister-in-law demanded of him, staring 
 at him in a l)lank kind of way. 
 
 " Clara, it's a terrible thing even to speak of ! — terrible I 
 — I that should have been the first to protect her, since she 
 chose to join my wandering life. The bonds are still 
 quoted — yes — but tliey are valueless : no one would touch 
 them. They were 108 when we bought them ; now they 
 are down at 17 or something of the kind ; but they are 
 quite unsaleable ; nothing has ever been paid on them after 
 the first six montlis, and nothing ever will be paid on them, 
 so it is said. Of course IJriseis does not know. She thinks 
 the six per cent, interest is still being paid ; and probably 
 imagines that a considerable portion of it is being stored up 
 for her ; hence her offer to you — which was generous all 
 the same. And she must not know, Clara I — she must not 
 know ! " 
 
 " Then slic is dependent on you for her support ! " 
 exclaimed Aunt Clara, her eyes still staring. 
 
 " I give her what money she needs — it isn't much," he 
 said, in a more resigned way. " And I may explain to you 
 tJiat my own nifans arc still further crippled ; for I i»ut a
 
 AUNT CLARA 35 
 
 email sum into the Denville Valley Mortgage along with 
 hers ; and that's gone too. So you see, Aunt Clara, it is 
 impossible for me to do what you ask. I'm very sorry. 
 I've always heard that the boy was clever and brilliant, and 
 likely to do well. But, after all, the three years at Cam- 
 bridge are not an absolute necessity " 
 
 The startled and expectant look had faded out of Aunt 
 Clara's eyes ; there reigned there a sort of hopeless rumina- 
 tion ; and she was silent. But at length she said : 
 
 " You may as well call Briseis in again, John. She shall 
 hear no word of all this from me." 
 
 When the young girl retm-ned to them she was much 
 astonished to learn that Aunt Clara was on the immediate 
 point of departure. No, Aunt Clara could not remain a 
 day or two with them, nor would she even stay to dinner ; 
 her time, she said, was at the moment extremely precious ; 
 she must make haste back again to the south. And what 
 surprised Briseis still more was that no reference of any 
 kind was made to her offer. Even if a refusal had been 
 decided on, she might fairly have expected a word ol 
 thanks ? On the contrary, a complete and incomprehensible 
 silence prevailed with regard to the business that had 
 brought Aunt Clara all the way to Sanchory ; and in a 
 few moments further she was in the fly that was to take 
 her to the station, on her way to Aberdeen and London. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 WIDER WANDERINGS. 
 
 Now Briseis was well aware that, the moment this poor, 
 distracted Aunt Clara had gone, her uncle would plunge 
 into the correspondence awaiting him on the side table ; 
 accordingly she turned to the window ; and there as it 
 chanced she encountered a spectacle that entirely suited 
 her humour, the idle wretch that she was. For just beyond 
 the pavement, in the wide, empty, sunlit thoroughfare, two 
 small boys were playing marbles ; and though of course 
 she knew nothing of the mysterious fascination of commies, 
 jari'ies, whinnies, and chenies (if tliesc be the terms 
 
 D 2
 
 36 BRISEIS 
 
 fashionable among the Aberdeenshire youth), she could at 
 least guess at the fluctuations of the game, and she could 
 watch the eagerness of the urchins with a vaguely sym- 
 pathetic interest and with a serene good-nature in her 
 smiling eyes. She was thus employed — and it was an 
 employment completely in accord with her indefensible 
 disposition — when her uncle mentioned her name. 
 
 " Briseis," said he — " Briseis — I have something to tell 
 you — that — that may surprise you a little " 
 
 She turned quickly ; she found that he had drawn in a 
 chair to the central table, and was seated there with one arm 
 hanging down, an open letter in his hand ; and then she 
 noticed that the usual fresh tints of his complexion had 
 given place to a curious ashen-gray hue. It was wonder 
 rather than fear that possessed her : what further astonish- 
 ments had this day in store for them ? 
 
 "And yet it is not of much importance — perhaps — 
 perhaps not of much importance," he went on, in an 
 absent kind of way as if he were thinking of a hundred 
 different and distinct things. " A good deal of trouble, of 
 course — but with a little patience it can be set right — in 
 time everything will be set right again, and no harm 
 done " 
 
 " But what is it, uncle ? " she demanded. 
 
 Then he looked up, in his anxious, apprehensive fashion. 
 
 " Now you must not be angry, Briseis," said he. " You 
 must not make too much of it. Only a bit of a practical 
 joke, after all. There's no harm done— not much harm 
 done — a little trouble, and it will be all set right " 
 
 " But I don't understand, uncle " 
 
 " The Silene alpestris," he said— and he seemed to talk as 
 if there were some kind of weight on his chest. " You 
 know the Silene alpestris, Briseis — well, it appears that two 
 or three of the young fellows in Edinburgh had got to hear 
 that I was likely to be round by Dee-side this summer — 
 and — and of course they made sure I would be up Scoultcr 
 I nil — and so they got some seed of the Silene alpestris — 
 sent to Austria, perhaps, for it — or perhaps got it from 
 some garden — and they sowed the seed on the top of 
 Scoultcr Hill. Nothing more tlian a kind of juke, you 
 know — nothing more — nothing more. No doubt it will be
 
 WIDER WANDERINGS 37 
 
 a little awkward — a little humiliating — to take back my 
 imagined discovery " 
 
 And then she understood — and her face grew quite 
 white. 
 
 "The hounds ! — the scoundrel hounds ! " she said — and her 
 voice was vibrating with passion. " If I were a man, I would 
 lash them ! I would take a horsewhip and lash them ! " 
 
 And then in the blindness and bewilderment of her 
 indignation she seemed to look all around for help. To 
 whom could she appeal ? Who would come forward to 
 take her part ? Who, for her sake, would exact vengeance 
 for this cruel trick that had been played on an unoffending 
 old man — an old man of exceedmg sensitiveness of mind ? 
 Oddly enough, at this moment, and if only for a moment, 
 her thoughts involuntarily turned to Frank Gordon of 
 Grantly. But of course that was out of the question. 
 Young Gordon was almost a stranger, notwithstanding the 
 marked friendliness he had shown them ; besides, he was 
 probably by this time on his way to London, And mean- 
 while old John Elliott had risen from his chair and was 
 walking up and down the room, showing a good deal more 
 of perturbation in his manner than he allowed to appear 
 in his pacific words. 
 
 "No, no, Briseis," he was saying — while he nervously 
 clutched the letter that had brought the news, " you must 
 not be angry. You must not make over much of it. You 
 see, I was too certain. I had convinced myself that no 
 garden escape could have found its way to the top of 
 Scoulter Hill ; and I carelessly imagined that that was 
 enough. The possibility of a trick did not occur to me. 
 But where is the harm done ? Of course I shall have to 
 write to the various Societies and explain. I dare say 
 most of the people know that I have never been in the 
 habit of proclaiming false discoveries, or jumping to rash 
 conclusions. I have never laid myself open to suspicion 
 before ; and this time it is hardly my fault — it is hardly 
 my fault, Bry, is it ? " 
 
 " Your fault, uncle ? " She burst out crying ; and 
 turned away to the window again. " If — if I were a man 
 — if I were a man — I'd let them know whose fault it was I 
 The hounds — the cowardly hounds ! ~"
 
 38 BRISEIS 
 
 He went after her and took her gently by the arm — his 
 own fingers trembling a little. 
 
 " Come, come, now, Bry," he said, " you must not make 
 too much of it. It was only a kind of joke, you know, 
 among two or three of those young fellows in Edinburgh. 
 And there can be no permanent harm dene. The Linnrean 
 and the Andersonian and the rest of them are well aware 
 that I have never tried to push myself forward ; I think 
 they would give me credit for that ; they will not accuse 
 me of having claimed the discovery with any intention of 
 deceiving. I think they would tell you that what little 
 work I have done has been done in a quiet way ; I have 
 never pushed myself forward ; I don't think they will 
 suspect me of having tried to snatch false honours. Come, 
 Bry, you must not pay too much attention to a mere trick 
 of this kind " 
 
 She pulled herself together — and dried her eyes. 
 
 " Quite right, uncle," she said, firmly. " It is too con- 
 temptible a thing to be thought twice of." And then she 
 added, cheerfully : " Why, what a long time we have been 
 indoors, on such a beautiful afternoon ! Let us go out — 
 let us go for a stroll somewhere : uncle, you can attend 
 to the rest of your correspondence and papers when we 
 return." 
 
 For it was she who would play the part of comforter — 
 perceiving clearly enough how deeply he had been struck ; 
 she was talking blithely to him as she fetched him his hat 
 and cane ; she opened the door for him, and together they 
 passed out. And yet amidst all her forced vivacity they 
 had not left the inn a dozen yards before she became 
 conscious that a change had come over Sanchory on Dee. 
 It was not the same place, somehow, that it had been an 
 hour before. There were the familiar features, to be sure — 
 the sunlight of the wide, open, empty street, the dark blue- 
 gray stone of the old-fashioned houses, the glancing and 
 fihimmcring of the yellow-green foliage, with now and 
 again a glimpse of the soft, ethereal rose-purple of the 
 western hills. Yet this was not at all the same Sanchory 
 through which they had driven on their return from 
 Grantly Castle — her heart full of gratitude because of the 
 kindness shown tbcm by the young laird and the gentle-
 
 WIDER WANDERINGS 39 
 
 mannered Miss Jean. And perhaps Briscis too had been 
 looking forward with quiet satisfaction to this anticipated 
 correspondence. She liked to see her uncle's name in 
 printed Transactions ; she liked to see his contributions to 
 Ijotanical lore suitably acknowledged ; these were modest 
 honours and dignities in a harmlessly simple life. But now 
 — well, the little hamlet of Sanchory seemed all different 
 now : something had changed its aspect. 
 
 As for old John Elliott, he walked on as one in a dream, 
 apparently paying no heed whither they went. But of a 
 sudden he stopped. Eight in front of them was the stone 
 bridge spanning the Dee ; and beyond that was the road 
 leading to Scoulter Hill. 
 
 " Not that way — not that way, Briseis — some other way 
 — let us take some other way." 
 
 She guessed what this shrinking reluctance meant, and 
 immediately she turned. But when they had retraced 
 their steps towards the village, he said : 
 
 " I think I would rather go into the inn, Briseis. You 
 see, I must begin and write out those explanations " 
 
 " Oh no, uncle, no, no," she pleaded. " Leave that till 
 to-morrow. What is the hurry ? " 
 
 "I would rather go in, anyhow," he said, in a tired fashion. 
 
 Indeed, he seemed all broken down and disheartened ; 
 and sometimes he sighed heavily, as though the mere act 
 of breathing gave him pain. And yet when they had 
 returned to the little room, he did not resume his seat ; he 
 kept restlessly moving hither and thither, staring absently 
 into the grate, or out of the window, or at the sideboard 
 with its unopened newspapers ; and hardly listening to 
 the attempts that Briseis made from time to time to break 
 in upon his reverie. Then dinner was served ; and he 
 took his place at the table ; but she could not induce him 
 to touch anything, though he made a pretence. 
 
 " Uncle," she remonstrated, " you must really eat some- 
 thing, or you will be ill." 
 
 "Oh, I am doing very well, my dear — I'm doing very 
 ■well," he said ; and then : " Briseis, you don't think they 
 will suspect me of having intended to deceive them ? They 
 wouldn't think that, would they ? " 
 
 " IIow can you iuiagine such a thing, uncle 1 " she
 
 40 BRISEIS 
 
 exclaimed. "And why should you worry about a mere 
 trifle ? The explanation will clear it all away." 
 
 " I should have been more careful," he said, breathing 
 heavily. " I should have doubted. Hooker is very explicit 
 about the alpestris — ' One of Don's reputed discoveries ; 
 never confirmed.' I was too eager. And now some of 
 them may be thinking that I was trying to palm off a sham 
 discovery on the Societies, and that I have been found 
 out " 
 
 " And those that are so base as to think that, what is 
 their opinion worth ? " she demanded, scornfully. But he 
 paid no heed to her : he was absorbed in his own self- 
 torturing thoughts. 
 
 Erelong he complained of being tired. It had been a 
 fatiguing kind of day, he said ; he thought he would get 
 off to bed at once ; and so he bade her good-night and 
 left. Then, that she might not disturb him, she also 
 stole upstairs to her room, which was next his, and in 
 silence made ready for the still hours of sleep. But very 
 soon she discovered that he had not gone to bed at all. 
 As she lay and listened, she could hear him walking to 
 and fro — perhaps framing the apology that he would have 
 to send to the various Societies, perhaps merely brooding 
 over the underhand blow that had been dealt him. Her 
 heart was full of grief, and sympathy, and burning indigna- 
 tion ; but what could she do ? And in time the healthy 
 constitution of youth claimed its rights ; her eyelids closed ; 
 and her spirit was free to wander away into the poppyland 
 of dreams. 
 
 Next morning, when John Elliott came down, there was 
 a worn and shrunken look about his features, and his eyes 
 were wearied. He took his accustomed place at the break- 
 fast table ; but in spite of all her entreaties he could not 
 be persuaded to eat anything^he had half a cup of tea, 
 tliat was all. Yet he declared there was nothing the matter 
 with him ; only he had not slept very well. Then he 
 regarded her in a curiously timid and furtive manner. 
 
 " Briscis," he said, hesitatingly, " I — I would not like to 
 cause you any inconvenience. Perhaps I have not always 
 been considerate ; perhaps I have been so engrossed in 
 my own pursuits — selfislily engrossed — that I have forgotten
 
 WIDER WANDERINGS 41 
 
 to try to keep you interested as well. And Dee-side is 
 a picturesque neighbourhood — oh, yes — there are many 
 places you could visit yet — and Loch-Na-Garr always looks 
 fine when you climb up one of the other hills. I — I 
 would not like to inconvenience you, Briseis — if you would 
 rather stay and see something more of this country- 
 side " 
 
 " What do you mean, uncle ? " said she, promptly. " Do 
 you want to leave Sanchory ? For I can be ready in ten 
 minutes." 
 
 Then he confessed that the district had grown distasteful 
 to him somehow ; he had lost interest in it ; would she 
 go with him into Aberdeen, where they could mature their 
 future plans ? And this Greek girl, idle and easily good- 
 hmnom^ed and pleasure-loving as she might be, had never- 
 theless her wits about her ; she divined readily enough why 
 he wished to get away from this neighbom-hood ; so she said 
 at once, and with much cheerfulness : 
 
 " Uncle, I will make a bargain with you. If you will 
 remain here and try to eat at least that one piece of toast, 
 I will undertake to have my small belongings packed in less 
 than a quarter of an hour." And therewithal she went off 
 to her own room. 
 
 And thus it was that by the very next train they left 
 Sanchory and made their way in to the Granite City, where, 
 for the sake of economy, they took lodgings instead of 
 going to a hotel. Their rooms were over an old curiosity 
 shop — a storehouse of all sorts of miscellaneous oddities — 
 dirks, claymores, cutlasses, ostrich eggs, stuffed birds, DeLft- 
 ware, eighteenth-century tea-caddies, and the like ; and 
 among these Briseis would sometimes linger, examining ; 
 but generally she was more intent on taking her uncle for 
 circuitous walks in the environs of the town, chatting to 
 him the while, and trying to rouse him from the fits of 
 brooding into which he had fallen. Frequently they went 
 out by St. Machar's Cathedral, and over the Old Brig of 
 Balgownie, and then back by the seaward road, with its 
 glimpses of the blue-green water and the white line of foam 
 curling up on the sand. But very soon he began to restrict 
 these excursions ; they grew shorter and shorter ; until at 
 length he would rather sit indoors, in an armchair, silent,
 
 42 BRISEIS 
 
 his head downcast — and well she knew what was gnawing 
 at his heart. Then one evening he said to her : 
 
 " Briseis, siu-ely it's very cold — very cold. I'm all 
 shivering. I don't understand it." 
 
 Indeed, he was visibly trembling with this attack of 
 chills, though there was an unusual flush of colour in his 
 face. Well, she was not much used to dealing with illness 
 of any kind ; but she did what she thought best ; she got 
 him to bed at once, and sent for a doctor. The doctor's 
 report was reassuring. There was some degree of fever, no 
 doubt, and an abnormally quick pulse ; but there was little 
 immediate cause for alarm ; perhaps she had better get in a 
 trained nurse ; and with proper care and precautions all 
 would come right. 
 
 The following day there was a different story to tell. 
 Old John Elliott lay breathing laboriously, utterly ex- 
 hausted, dozing sometimes, yet restless and nervously 
 sensitive to the slightest noise, and muttering to himself 
 on occasion, whether incoherently or not she could hardly 
 make out. 
 
 " Has he been in any trouble of late ? Has he had any 
 mental worry ? " the doctor asked. 
 
 " Oh yes — yes, indeed," she said ; and her hands were 
 clinched behind her back— as if that could prevent the 
 tears welling into her eyes. 
 
 " This nervous fever is sometimes serious," said the 
 doctor, guardedly. " And you are young to have so much 
 responsibility thrown on you alone. Has he any other 
 relatives about here ? " 
 
 " You do not think there is any danger ? " she ex- 
 claimed, in a low voice— with a quick look of unimaginable 
 dread. 
 
 "Not yet— not yet," said he. "I will tell you before 
 you need send for any one." 
 
 And so a day or two passed, without apparent change, 
 the fever running its usual course. But one afternoon, 
 while Briseis was seated by the bedside, patiently watching, 
 the old botanist suddenly flung himself out of his comatose 
 trance, his eyes all burning and brilliant with excitement. 
 
 " Briseis, Briseis," he said, or gasped rather, in an eager, 
 breathless way, "haste, now— haste, haste !— telegraph—
 
 WIDER WANDERINGS 43 
 
 telegraph to them to keep back the papers — they must not 
 be read — keep them back from the meetings — there will be 
 time yet if you telegraph at once — keep them back — tell 
 them — explain — it was all a mistake — I never tried to cheat 
 any one — I never made false claims to discoveries — never- 
 never " 
 
 She laid her cool hand lightly on his hot forehead. 
 
 " That is all right, uncle — the explanation has been 
 made — they understand perfectly " 
 
 " I never thought of imposing on them," he panted. 
 " But — but if they wish to remove my name from the lists 
 of membership — well, I cannot object — that is quite just — • 
 though I did not wish to deceive any one " 
 
 " No, no, uncle — they understand perfectly — they under- 
 stand you were not in the least to blame," she said, softly 
 and smoothly — and if ever there was persuasive charm in 
 the music of a human voice, it was in hers. So that in a 
 little while the hectic fire appeared to fade out of those 
 restless and eager eyes, and he had relapsed into a kind of 
 dozing state, while the fell disease continued its work. 
 
 But later on in the evening he began to talk again, in a 
 less excited mood. 
 
 " Briseis, I want to tell you something. Your Aunt 
 Clara seemed to reproach me— and quite fairly, too — yes, 
 yes, quite fairly. I should have put the little money I 
 inherited into some business, or tried some profession. 
 But, you see, it was this way. When I was a lad I was 
 allowed to do pretty much as I Hked ; and what I liked 
 most of all was to go wandering away among the hills, with 
 a vasculum slung over my shoulder. The hillside was my 
 love. The other young fellows, they would talk about 
 girls ; but I never had any thought that way ; and the 
 young women seemed to have some sense of it ; they had 
 never a word or a look for me. Well — I was content — ■ 
 when I was away by myself — in Glen Rosa or Glen Sannox. 
 Briseis," he continued, in this hard-breathing, rambling, 
 confused fashion, " before I was out of my teens I had 
 some fairly good things in my herbariiun — the Drosera — I 
 mean the anglka — and — and the Hypermmi dubiimi— and 
 the Saxifraga stellaris — the Finguicula alpina — and many 
 another — I cannot remember at the moment "
 
 44 BRISEIS 
 
 " Of course not, uncle," she said, her voice tranquil and 
 soothing. "Why should you trouble yom-self ? I know 
 how valuable your collection is." 
 
 " But this is what I meant to tell you — Briseis ; it is a 
 kind of explanation — and — and perhaps an excuse," he 
 went on. " When I was quite a lad, I discovered among 
 the slopes above Gourock a little dell in which the Osmunda 
 regaUs was growing in great luxuriance. The Osmunda is 
 rare on that coast — and — and I was proud of my discovery 
 — and kept the secret to myself ; and many a time I used 
 to go and sit in the little hollow, under the birch-trees, and 
 listen to the trickling of the burn. And then — well, you 
 see, I was foolish and romantic — and my only love in those 
 days was the hillside — I took it into my head that I would 
 spend a night in that dell, with the Osmundas as my only 
 companions. It was not a cold night either ; but I found 
 the ground very hard and damp before I could get to sleep. 
 I remember the stars through the birch-trees overhead. I 
 thought I could hear the sea, too, along the shore — though 
 I was some distance up the hillside, and in a hollow, too. I 
 remember the stars well — I lay and looked up at them — • 
 twinkling white and clear through the branches of the 
 trees. And there was the sound of the burn close by — not 
 two yards away from me, I had no wrap of any kind — a 
 boy is careless of such things, you know — but anyhow in 
 time I got to sleep. Well, the weather must have changed 
 during the night ; for when I woke, just about daybreak, 
 there was a fine, thin rain falling, and I was wet through 
 to the skin, and shivering with cold. And I was miles and 
 miles away from home. You may guess what followed — 
 rheimaatic fever — and all its worst consequences ; so that 
 from that hour my life was broken." 
 
 He tried to raise himself a little, so as to address her 
 more directly ; but he fell back, through sheer weakness. 
 
 " Do you understand now, Briseis ?^io you understand 
 why I have kept out of the struggle, and been like an 
 Ishmaelite wandering in the desert ? It is only witliin the 
 last few years that I have had anything like health, and 
 that with constant watching. But, all the same — yoiu" 
 Aunt Clara was quite right in accusing me " 
 
 " Uncle, I do not accuse yon I " she said, passionately.
 
 WIDER WANDERINGS 45 
 
 " Not I ! — and I wonder who knows you better than I do ? 
 If every one were living as blameless a life as you have 
 lived, I think it would be a considerably different kind of 
 world ! " 
 
 "Ah, but your Aunt Clara was right," he insisted, in 
 this painful fashion. " I should have given a better 
 account of my stewardship — I have been selfish — and 
 
 absorbed in my own pursuits " But at this point he 
 
 seemed inclined to turn away his head ; and instantly she 
 was silent — scarcely daring to breathe, indeed ; all the 
 desire of her being was that beneficent sleep should descend 
 upon him, to still that troubled brain. 
 
 Another day or two passed ; the fever showed no signs 
 of abatement ; but now, strangely enough, his confused 
 mutterings had no reference to his concern about the 
 Societies and what they might think of his alleged dis- 
 covery : mostly they were about the botanical wanderings 
 of his youth — Glen Rosa and Glen Sannox in Arran, the 
 hills above Lochgoil, Ben-Lomond and Ben-Yoirlich, the 
 winding shores of Loch Achray, the 'banks of Allan 
 Water,' the far Braes of Balquhidder. Sometimes he knew 
 that Briseis was by his side ; sometimes he did not ; he 
 would frequently talk as it were to one of his boyish 
 companions — talk of his tramping through a rainy day 
 towards Aberfoyle, or his waiting for the steamer at the 
 breezy quay of Greenock. And pervading these remini- 
 scences and rambling confessions there was the greatest 
 self - depreciation and gentleness ; he seemed to have 
 treasured no recollection of any harm done to him by any 
 one ; there was no aggression or resentment ; rather a kind 
 of gratitude towards all the people whom he had encountered 
 in his journey through the world. 
 
 Then there came one evening — ]\Irs. Alexander Elliott, 
 who had been urgently telegraphed for, was in the room, 
 and so also was Briseis, stricken faint and numb with long 
 tendance — on this evening he appeared to waken out of 
 the profound coma that had followed upon the violence of 
 the fever. And now there was no unnatural glitter in the 
 eyes ; no hectic colour in the pinched and wan face ; he 
 regarded these two with a calm recognition. 
 
 " You will look after Briseis, Aimt Clara," he said, in a
 
 46 BRISEIS 
 
 voice that was just audible and no more. " She will be 
 grateful to you for your kindness — she has a heart of gold. 
 And Briscis — my dearest — oh, indeed, my dearest — re- 
 member this — you must not think too hardly — of the young 
 fellows — who played that trick on me. They — meant no 
 harm — meant no harm — only a frolic of youth — I am sure 
 they meant no harm." 
 
 He relapsed into silence. But a second or two there- 
 after there came a sudden change — and Aunt Clara sprang 
 to the bell. 
 
 " Send for the doctor ! — send for the doctor at once ! " 
 she cried in her frantic alarm. 
 
 But there was no need to send for any doctor. Old 
 John Elliott had quietly passed away, and was now free 
 from all earthly cares and wrongs. And perhaps — who 
 knows ? — there may be rare plants to be sought for among 
 the lonelier of the high hills of Heaven. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 AUF DER HOHE. 
 
 One evening early in July Sir Hugh and Lady Adela 
 Cunyngham entertained a distinguished company at their 
 house on Campden Hill, the dinner being given in honour 
 of the Prince and Princess of Monteveltro ; and although 
 the party was rather an elderly one, being chiefly of a 
 diplomatic character — Ambassadors, Ministers, Attaclies, 
 and the like — nevertheless a corner had been found for 
 young Frank Gordon, as was but natural, seeing that he 
 was the only son of the Princess by her former husband, 
 when she was Lady Gordon of Grantly. Likewise Lady 
 Adela had been considerate enough to provide the boy 
 with a companion more of his own age — a Miss Georgina 
 Lestrange. Now this Miss Lcstrange — who generally was 
 called Georgie by her intimate friends — was a ruddy-haired, 
 rebellious-nosed, fresh-complexioned, merry-eyed lass, who 
 wore a pince-nez ; and being of a lively and audacious 
 spirit, slic opened the ball at once, the moment the people 
 had taken their scats.
 
 AUF DER HOME 47 
 
 " I've heard a good deal about you, from Lady Adela," 
 said tliis frank young damsel ; " aud I've often wondered 
 why you didn't go into the great world of state affairs, 
 when you have sueh opportunities. Your mother the 
 Princess is quite an important person in Eastern politics, 
 isn't she ? " 
 
 " Yes, I believe she is," he made answer, with rather 
 significant emphasis on the she. " As for the Prince, his 
 chief ambition seems to be to get his two black poodles to 
 sit up on their hind legs, each with a pipe in its mouth." 
 
 " Then, if that is his disposition," continued this bold 
 young creature, " all the more reason why you should go 
 and make a name for yourself. What is the use of salmon- 
 fishing and shooting rabbits ?■ " 
 
 "Would you like to know how many thousand spruce 
 and larch trees I planted last year ? " he demanded — for 
 even the most modest youth does not like to be trampled 
 upon. 
 
 " Oh, but what is that — when you have such great 
 chances ! If I were a man, I should like to know that I 
 had done something — something to distinguish me from 
 everybody else — something that people could remember me 
 by. Oh, I beg your pardon — really — really, I beg your 
 pardon — because of course you have — you have, at all 
 events. You rowed in the Oxford Eleven, didn't you 1 " 
 
 " Well," said he, ingenuously, " there weren't quite so 
 many of us as that ; but we managed to beat Cambridge all 
 the same." 
 
 She looked puzzled for a second. 
 
 " Oh, how silly of me— how very silly 1 Only eight, of 
 course." And then she sheered off — her conversation 
 taking the form of a series of rambling questions, that 
 hardly waited for an answer. " It's an awfully pretty 
 table, isn't it ? — maidenhair-fern goes so well with silver, 
 doesn't it ? And I'm certain there's nothing suits a 
 dinner-table so well as candles ; they are so soft and quiet ; 
 don't you positively detest the electric light ? — it's only fit 
 for gin-palaces. And don't you think it is much better to 
 have the Hungarian Band out in the garden rather than in 
 the hall ? They play awfully well, don't they ? That's 
 Waldtcufel— the ' Plnie d'Or '— I simply worship Wald-
 
 48 BRISEIS 
 
 tenfel. Oh, I forgot. When I mentioned the electric 
 light, I did not mean in a garden ; in a garden it's quite 
 charming ; when you go out after dinner you'll find all the 
 grounds lit up. For you don't mean to hide yourself away 
 in the billiard-room, do you ? — on a night like this it will 
 surely be ever so much nicer for you to have your cigarette 
 in the open air. And mind, there's a treat in store for 
 you ; don't forget to applaud ; the band has been in- 
 structed to play Sibyl Bourne's ' March.' You know, she 
 is just wild to get it adopted by the band-masters of the 
 different regiments— the ' Soldiers' Marching Song ' it is, 
 when it's sung ; and I fancy she hinted something about it 
 to the Duke of Cambridge, and to Sir Evelyn Wood when 
 he was at Aldcrshot ; but nothing seems to have come 
 of it " 
 
 " I'll tell you what Lady Sibyl ought to do," observed 
 young Gordon to this loquacious maid. "She ought to 
 approach my august step-papa, and suggest that the 
 'March' should be adopted as the national air of the 
 Piincipality of Monteveltro." 
 
 " Oh, my good gracious, Sir Francis, what a splendid 
 idea ! " she cried eagerly. " What a perfectly ripping idea ! 
 I will tell Sibyl the moment we leave the room. Or I 
 wouldn't mind making the suggestion myself. Only — you 
 
 see — I don't quite know " She glanced towards the 
 
 personage seated next to Lady Adela Cimyngham : he was 
 rather stout and elderly, good-natured-looking, with a long 
 moustache carefully waxed at the drooping ends. " Faut-il 
 le monseigneuriscr ? " 
 
 " Oh, you needn't be particular," said the Prince's step- 
 son, smiling maliciously. " Get him into a good humour 
 by asking about his black poodles, and you might even call 
 him Monty or Veltry. He's a very good kind of chap ; 
 but I think the Principality bores him. lie would rather 
 sit on a bench in the Prater, and have his poodles go 
 through their performances " 
 
 " What an awfully handsome woman your mother is ! " 
 said Miss Georgie. " And so distinguished-looking 1 I 
 don't wonder at the influence she is said to liavc. Tlioy 
 tell me it was she who really planned out Kiug Milan's 
 rctui'u to Belgrade."
 
 AUF DER HOME 49 
 
 "Yes, but her life isn't altogether roses," responded 
 young Gordon. " I'm always wishing she would catch her 
 dress on the door." 
 
 " On the door ? " said the ruddy-headed lass, turning and 
 staring at him through her pi7ice-7iez. 
 
 " Well, I should have a chance of firing off Lord 
 Palmerston's epigram — don't you remember ? — when the 
 Princess of Servia met with that kind of accident — ' Vous 
 voyez, Princesse, c'est toujours la Porte qui vous incom- 
 mode.' Rather neat, wasn't it ? But even that isn't as 
 good as what the Attache said — I forget his name— when 
 the Shah of Persia was over here. His Majesty on some 
 evening or other had been refreshing himself a little too 
 freely, whereupon this gay youth remarked : ' Oh, every 
 one knows the French proverb— La nuit tons les chats sont 
 gris.' He made a reputation on the strength of that — it 
 went the round of every Court in Europe." 
 
 " But tell me now about Monteveltro," she said — after 
 she had been talking to her other neighbour for a little 
 while. " I am really quite ashamed — I hardly even know 
 where it is " 
 
 " Very well," he answered her, obediently, amid this 
 prevailing hum of conversation, while the Blue Hungarian 
 Band outside in the garden was playing softly and melo- 
 diously Batiste's Andante in Gr. " As you are sailing 
 down the Dalmatian coast " 
 
 " That sounds rather wicked," interpolated the impudent 
 minx, demurely, though probably he did not hear her. 
 
 " — you come upon the entrance into a long inland gulf 
 — something like a Norwegian fiord, only the mountains are 
 higher, and brighter in colour — in fact, as you go winding 
 round promontory after promontory the whole thing looks 
 like the drop-scene of a theatre. Then at the head of the 
 gulf the steamer comes to anchor, and directly rowing-boats 
 put off from the shore — the most gorgeously-painted boats, 
 and the men and women exceedingly picturesque — and thoy 
 want you to buy Albanian embroidered jackets and waist- 
 belts of leather and cornelians. Then you jump into one 
 of the blue and red boats and go away across the green 
 water — it's all exactly like a theatre — and you land at 
 Dattaro, a clean-looking, white little place. Clean-looking,
 
 50 
 
 BRISEIS 
 
 yes ; but, oh mong jew ! Have you been to Constan- 
 tinople ? " 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Then you don't know the slums of Galata, and the 
 dogs. Venice, perhaps ? " 
 
 " Oh yes, I have been to Venice." 
 
 " Then you remember the short cut between the Rialto 
 and the Riva degli Schiavoni — past the Post-office, I mean 
 — and there is a corner of the canal just before you reach 
 the Bridge of Sighs " 
 
 " I know it well — oh, don't 1 1 " said Miss Georgie, in a 
 sad kind of way. 
 
 " But if you were to take a year of that corner and 
 compress it into five minutes, you would hardly match the 
 odours of Dattaro. Never mind. You are soon away from 
 the Httle seaport, and driving up the most amazing road 
 that was ever cut — a zigzag up the face of the mountains, 
 but it's more like going up the side of a house. Very 
 well. You have six hours of that dizzy climb, and then 
 you arrive at the capital of Monteveltro. It's the remotest, 
 strangest-lookiug little place, away up there in the moun- 
 tains : there's the Palace, and a Monastery, and a Telegraph 
 office, and the house of the British Charge d'Affaircs — 
 by-the-way, he has an excellent tennis-lawn, and it's the 
 oddest thing to see the ladies of his family, English girls, 
 dressed as you would find them in Surrey or Sussex, playing 
 lawn-tennis with the young Moutcveltrin officers in their 
 embroidered caps and jackets and long riding-boots. Be- 
 cause of course there's an army — a mimic army — comic 
 opera kind of thing — only, the fellows can fight — oh yes, 
 they can fight — perfect devils for fighting : it's my step- 
 papa's younger brother. Prince George, who commands 
 them ; and 1 can tell you they make it particularly warm 
 for the Albanian brigands, who are continually coming 
 across to plunder and kill the inoffensive peasantry. Very 
 brave fellows indeed, and very proud of their independence : 
 if either Turkey or Austria were to try to annex Monte- 
 veltro, there's not one of those hardy mountaineers who 
 wouldn't die at his post rather than surrender — there would 
 simply have to be a universal massacre — nothing else." 
 
 "Oh, that is very interesting, very," said she. "And
 
 AUF DER HO HE 51 
 
 I suppose when your mother married the Prince, it was 
 considered she had made a very proud alliance." 
 
 Now he was a most modest, and ingenuous, and courteous 
 youth ; but this unhappy remark seemed to nettle him a 
 little. 
 
 "Well, I don't know," said he, with some trace of 
 reserve. "I don't know. There are several of the Gordon 
 families who can trace their descent back to the daughter 
 of James I. of Scotland, who married the son of the second 
 Earl of Huntly ; and if there is to be any claim on account 
 of birth and blood, I think that may rank as against a 
 twopenny-halfpenny Eastern prince, who only lives by the 
 sufferance of his big neighbours " 
 
 " Oh, of course, of course I " said the penitent Miss 
 Georgie, with a quick flush springing to her forehead. " I 
 ought to have known, of course. But I'm making a 
 dreadful fool of myself this evening. I generally do, in fact. 
 Have you heard that Madame Albani is coming to sing 
 to-night ? And Lionel Moore — and his awfully pretty 
 wife — Nina Ross she is called on the stage, you know — 
 Lady Rosamimd is painting her portrait for the next 
 Academy, that is, if they'll accept it ; and Sir John Mellord 
 has been so kind and generous in giving her all the hints 
 and assistance that he can. Oh me," continued Miss 
 Georgie, with a sigh, " it must be delightful to belong to 
 such a clever family. It's really horrid to be stupid. You 
 cannot imagine how horrid it is unless you are out-and- 
 out stupid. Of course I don't think the public have taken 
 up Lady Adela's novels as they ought to have done — you 
 have no idea what trouble she expends on them — I know 
 something about it, for now and again I am her model — 
 I shriek, and fling myself on a couch, and she describes 
 it so as to get it natural— but it does disan-ange one's hair 
 so — if you have to be in a tempest of passion — and tearing 
 things. And after all the flattering mention that has 
 been made about her books by the newspapers — well, at 
 least some of the newspapers — it's too bad. It iiiz't fair. 
 I think the public's an awful fool : don't you ? "Why, 
 in Lady Adela's books, on every other page, you come 
 across people you can't help recognising— and the talk is 
 real talk — just what people say But I will tell you
 
 52 B RISE IS 
 
 about that later on." For at this moment a mysterious 
 signal went round the room ; all simultaneously rose ; the 
 ladies left singly or with an affectionate arm linked in 
 arm ; and on this occasion at least the Porte did not 
 incommode the Princess of Monteveltro. 
 
 Somewhat later in the evening Lady Adela received a 
 more numerous company of guests — a quite notable as- 
 semblage, indeed : the Russian, Austro-Hungarian, French, 
 Italian, and United States Ambassadors, the Portuguese, 
 Danish, and Norwegian Ministers, the Swiss and other 
 Charges d'Affaires, were all present, with a goodly sprinkling 
 of our own statesmen and politicians ; and it is to be pre- 
 sumed that in the brilliantly-lit drawing-room the conversa- 
 tion was not altogether about the recent proceedings in 
 the Bulgarian Sobranje when from time to time one could 
 listen to Madame Albani singing the ' Piano, piano,' from 
 Der Freischutz, or Mr. Lionel Moore (the accompaniment 
 played by his wife) giving ' On Lido Waters ' in his rich 
 baritone voice. But there was something besides that. 
 At the further end of the long room the tall French 
 windows stood open ; there was a little stone balcony ; 
 there were steps leading down into the garden ; and any 
 one descending these found himself in a kind of fairyland, 
 for the black trees and bushes were all bestarred with 
 coloured Chinese lamps, while the electric light shone in 
 the more open spaces. And as Miss Georgie Lestrange 
 was about the first to suggest that the cool air outside 
 would be preferable to the hotter atmosphere indoors, 
 and as it chanced to be Frank Gordon she was talking to, 
 he promptly acquiesced ; so she went and got a lace scarf 
 to throw round her head — a delicate piece of adornment 
 that neither destroyed the symmetry of her costmne of 
 cream-hucd brocade nor yet altogether hid her extremely 
 pretty Venetian necldace of filigree gold and pale coral. 
 Then those two — though they were not quite the first to 
 make the experiment — passed out from the yellow radiance 
 of the drawing-room, and went down the steps, and began a 
 perambulation of the shrubberies, which were all festooned 
 with parti-coloured lanterns, while the Hungarian Band, 
 under the blue-white glare of the electric light, was playing, 
 with exquisite finish and charm, Thome's ' Simple Aveu.'
 
 AUF DER HOME S3 
 
 Now Miss Georgie Lestrange happened to be in a par- 
 ticularly merry and mischievous mood, as they wandered 
 through these alleys, listening or not listening to the 
 music ; and amongst other things she was describing to 
 him certain aspects of the Grosvenor Square Ladies' Athletic 
 Club — for example, the shyness of the novices over their 
 unaccustomed attire, the desperate valour of the elderly 
 matrons, and the like. 
 
 " But are you a member ? " he said, interrupting her 
 suddenly. 
 
 " Oh yes ; I have been ever since the Club was started," 
 she answered him. 
 
 " Well, that would be an interesting sight — that would 
 be something to see ! " he exclaimed, with innocent fervour. 
 
 " In all London nothing more interesting " 
 
 " AVhy, what do you mean ? " she demanded. " The 
 very idea of such a thing I Of course no gentleman is 
 ever admitted ! " 
 
 " But if it came to that," said he, boldly (for she had 
 been bearing rather hardly on him with her quips and 
 cranks) — " if it came to that, and if you would take me, I 
 could go dressed up as your waiting-woman." 
 
 " What — you ? " she retorted, laughing. And then 
 with her forefinger she made a dainty and dexterous little 
 movement as if she were painting something on her upper 
 lip. "I'm afraid you forget a trifling detail that would 
 rather interfere with your disguise." 
 
 "Oh, but I'd soon have that removed," he declared, 
 " if there was a chance of my being allowed to penetrate 
 into these mysterious arcana." 
 
 "Not to be done, Sir Francis — not to be done," she 
 replied, decisively. "You would make as taU and as 
 ungainly a waiting-woman as Prince Charlie did ; and the 
 Grosvenor Athletic Club is not like the Isle of Skye — 
 you would be found out in a moment. But I'll tell you 
 
 now " 
 
 Here she paused ; for the Hungarian Band had begun 
 to play Mascagni's well-kno\vn Intermezzo, and she listened 
 for a second or two to the familiar strain. Then she 
 resumed : 
 
 " I'U tell you now : if you would like to see a Ladies'
 
 54 B RISE IS 
 
 Club, why not come and have some tea to-morrow after- 
 noon at the Hypatia ? It is to-morrow afternoon that we 
 receive visitors ; and you'll find Lady Adela there, and 
 Sibyl and Rosamund Bourne as well — almost certain " 
 
 " It's extremely kind of you — I shall be delighted ! " 
 he » responded at once. "But — but the Hypatia, did you 
 say ? What kind " 
 
 "Oh, well, you know," she proceeded to explain (but 
 in a half -absent sort of a way, for the band was playing 
 most beautifully), " it's supposed to be a club for authoresses 
 and lady-journalists, and so on — rather advanced, you 
 know — rather emancipated— they thought of calling it 
 the Forward Club — the equivalent of the German Vorwiirts, 
 don't you see ? — and then they considered that that name 
 might be misunderstood — Forward might be taken to mean 
 something else — don't you think so ? " 
 
 " Well, the Hypatia is a very pretty name," he replied, 
 discreetly. 
 
 " Of course you are supposed to have done something 
 to qualify for admission," she continued ; " but really it's 
 pot so difficult to get in, if you have a friend on the 
 Committee ; and Miss Penguin has been so extremely 
 kind " 
 
 " Miss ? " 
 
 " Miss Penguin. Oh, surely you must know 1 The 
 poetess — she wTitcs under the name of Sappho " 
 
 " I'm such an ignorant brute," he pleaded. 
 
 "And she was so kind about getting Lady Adela and 
 her sisters into the Club — and poor me too," said the 
 ruddy-haired damsel, only half-listening to the music. 
 " You see, I wouldn't for worlds say anything against 
 Adela Cunyngham, but the truth is, she is just mad to find 
 her name in the papers ; and there's a lot of writing people 
 at the Hypatia ; and naturally she thinks, when they get 
 to know her, they will make little paragraphs about her. 
 Of course it's quite horrid the way the public have taken 
 so little notice of her novels — awfully clever they are — 
 oh, just everybody you know in them — ^you can go from 
 page to page recognising this one and the other — most 
 awfully interesting. And Lady Adela docs like to see her 
 name mentioned in the papers ; I must admit that. It's
 
 A UF DER HOME 55 
 
 rather a weakness of the family, don't you know — Adela 
 the author, and Sibyl the musician, and Rosamund the 
 painter ; but what I always contend is that if you want to 
 get yourself advertised, if you really want to keep yom-self 
 before the public, you should recommend a soap. It's so 
 simple ! Lady Adela goes to this Hypatia Club, and pays 
 court to all sorts of women whom she doesn't know in the 
 least, and otherwise wouldn't want to know ; and sometimes, 
 but very seldom, they give her a bit of a paragraph — 
 nothing to speak of. But now, if she were to recommend 
 a soap, her name would be in every newspaper in England ! 
 And it's so easy ! They would say : ' Lady Adela Cunyng- 
 ham, of Aivron Lodge, Campden Hill, writes — Your soap is 
 the most fascinating I have ever tried.'' Don't you see ? 
 Then she would get her name in big type into all the 
 weekly illustrated papers ; and people would say, ' Well, 
 but who is Lady Adela Cunyngham ? ' — and other people 
 would say : ' Oh, don't you know ? She wi'ites novels. 
 She is the authoress of so-and-so.' And that would secure 
 her fame. It would draw attention to her work. Then 
 she wouldn't be dependent on that horrid creature Mr. 
 Octavius Quirk and his gang of self-puffers to give her a 
 little contemptuous cold encouragement now and again 
 when they're not engaged in bepraising each other. I'm 
 for soap. Don't you think it's reasonable ? Isn't it more 
 independent ? I wouldn't ask horrid, ugly men to my 
 house, in the hope of getting a favourable notice of my new 
 book. And I wouldn't go to the Hypatia Club either, 
 talking to inky-fingered young women, and secretly looking 
 forward to small paragraphs. Lady Adela is really the 
 dearest creatm'e in the world ; but she does strive a little 
 too much for notoriety. I don't think it's dignified ; I 
 don't really. Do you ? " 
 
 This was an unexpected gybe ; and the swinging over of 
 the boom (so to speak) rather frightened him. 
 
 " But — but — " he stammered, " how can there be any 
 harm in belonging to the Club you mentioned ? — why, you 
 yourself are a member, you said " 
 
 She burst out laughing. 
 
 " Oh, I go there for fun. Sometimes it's awful fun. 
 The discussion nights, especially "
 
 56 BRISEIS 
 
 " And what do you discuss ? " 
 
 " Well, we generally discuss Man ; and I can tell you we 
 give him what for. Then there's education — and stupid 
 things of that kind " 
 
 These glades and alleys were becoming almost crowded, 
 so many people were lingering about in the cool air of the 
 summer night ; and as he did not know at what moment 
 this talkative young person might consider it her duty to go 
 and join one or other of the nebulous groups, he thought it 
 better to clinch the bargain about the Hypatia Club by 
 asking [the number in Suffolk Street, Pall Mall, and the 
 hour at which he would be expected to make his appearance 
 on the following afternoon. She told him. 
 
 "And mind you put on your best bib and tucker — 
 metaphorically speaking," said she, saucily. " For they'll 
 \\Tite paragraphs about you." 
 
 " About me ? " he said, in astonishment. " Why about 
 me?" 
 
 - " Because it's their business 1 Literally their business. 
 They live by it. Oh, I know the kind of thing that will 
 appear-— among the little snippets divided off by three stars : 
 ' Sir Francis Gordon of Grantly does not at all look the 
 
 tyrannical landlord he is reported to be ' By-the-way, 
 
 are you a tyrannical landlord ? " 
 
 " I'm not a landlord at all 1 — nothing to speak of, at 
 least. I keep nearly all the farms in my own hands." 
 
 "Very well," she went on, with much complacency. 
 " ' Sir Francis Gordon of Grantly, who is well known as the 
 crofters' friend ' " 
 
 "Bless my soul, there's not a crofter in the whole 
 district ! " he exclaimed. 
 
 " What docs that matter ? One must live. But don't 
 be alarmed. Sir Francis. They're not so bad as they're 
 painted. And it's generally the people who want paragra[)hs 
 who get paragraphs. I'll protect you as well as I can." 
 And with that the engaging nymph put her hand on his 
 arm, and said she would like to be taken back to the 
 drawing-room now ; Lady Adela might notice their length- 
 ened absence ; besides, she wanted to see and hear something 
 of the great folk assembled there. 
 
 It was between two and three in the morning that Frank
 
 AUF DER HO HE 57 
 
 Gordon Set oiit on foot for his rooms in Jermyn Street : 
 this invariable walk home was about the only exercise that 
 the busy life of London left him. And if the pert and 
 charming young lady who had been doing her best to enter- 
 tain him was pleasing herself with the idea that she had 
 secured another captive, she was — on this occasion, at least — 
 mistaken. As he passed along by the sombre spaces of the 
 Parks, he was thinking of some one very different : he was 
 thinking, and quite involuntarily and perhaps unconsciously 
 thinking, of a Greek girl — so sweet, so serene, so self- 
 possessed, so bland in the smiling of her dark eyes. And 
 perhaps, in a vague kind of way, he may have been specu- 
 lating as to the direction in which those two, uncle and 
 niece, might now be distantly wandering — whether they 
 were searching the lone hills around Glenavon, whether 
 they were following the windings of the silver Spey, 
 whether they were on remote ' Loch Loyal's side, or up by 
 Mudal Water.' He did not know that the old botanist had 
 gone on a far wider quest ; and as little did he dream that 
 Briseis Valieri, become a mere slave and drudge, was here 
 in this very town of London. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE HYPATIA — AND THEEEAFTER. 
 
 Now Sir Francis Gordon of Grantly had about as much 
 courage as most people (the Gordons have never been 
 conspicuous for cowardice) ; but it must be admitted that 
 when he entered the door of the Hypatia Club, in Suffolk 
 Street, Pall Mall, and beheld a dim vista of feminine forms, 
 an indefinable apprehension occupied his mind. However, 
 here was the hall-porter, and him he was glad to recognise 
 as a man and a brother ; and he inwardly blessed the little 
 page-boy who took from him his hat and gloves and cane. 
 Then, just as he was hesitating at the very last moment as 
 to whether he should not turn and fly, he became aware of 
 the figure of a young person on the staircase — a figure 
 gracefully clad in biscuit-coloured Indian silk, and sur- 
 mounted by a portentous Gainsborough hat ; and at the
 
 58 B RISE IS 
 
 some momeut he was conscious that Miss Georgie Lestrange 
 was laughing at him. The ruddy-haired damsel descended 
 a step or two. 
 
 " Aren't you awfully frightened ? " she said. 
 
 " I am," he said. 
 
 " Well, come up into the drawing-room. They really 
 don't bite." 
 
 She led the way into a spacious suite of apartments ; and 
 presently he found himself in the midst of a large assem- 
 blage of fashionably dressed ladies, who did not in any wise 
 differ, as far as he could see, from the ordinary folk that 
 one would expect to meet at an afternoon reception. 
 Moreover, they did not take any notice of him ; apparently 
 they were chiefly concerned in worshipping at the shrine of 
 a well-known actor, whose benevolent airs of patronage 
 might have made a cat grin its ears off. So gradually, 
 while the vivacious Miss Georgie kept talking to him, he 
 began to recover his nerve. 
 
 " When does the shocking begin ? " he said. 
 
 " What shocking ? " she demanded. 
 
 " Well, I wanted to be shocked," he went on. " And 
 there isn't anything. They're mostly pretty women, with 
 very pretty dresses. Don't they ever— do something — to — 
 to make a stranger jump ? " 
 
 " Of course not 1 " said she. " Why, what did you 
 expect ? They're just like other people " 
 
 " You hinted that they were rather advanced — emanci- 
 pated " 
 
 " Oh, well," she confessed, " you might once in a blue 
 moon come upon an elderly lady wearing divided skirts " 
 
 " And is that all ? Is that all ? Divided skirts ? That's 
 nothing. I wear them myself." 
 
 " Come away now. Sir Francis, and talk to Lady Adcla, 
 and Sibyl and Rosamund Bourne — •! can see them in the 
 next room — and we will all go down and have tea together. 
 And if you would only take that detestable creature, 
 Octavius Quirk, and fling him out of the window, I would 
 give you an additional slice of bread and butter." 
 
 Young Gordon did not wish to throw anybody out of 
 the window ; but he went with her to seek Lady Adela 
 Cunyngham and the Ladies Sibyl and Rosamund Bourne ;
 
 THE HYPATIA—AND THEREAFTER 59 
 
 and the three tall and handsome sisters he found paying 
 assiduous and humble court to about as ill-favoured a 
 person as he had ever encountered — a podgy person, of un- 
 wholesome complexion, with eyes the colour of boiled goose- 
 berries — who was explaining, with a sort of feebly boisterous 
 glee, how he had just been appointed to the control of the 
 literary department of an important morning paper. 
 
 "The fact is. Lady Adela," he was saying, when the 
 playful Miss Georgie and her companion drew near, " the 
 Editor doesn't care a hang about literature ; all his interests 
 are in politics and the Church — the House of Commons 
 debates and the Ecclesiastical Intelligence — ^.ecclesiastical 
 intelligence ! — why don't they read Gibbon ? — and then, as 
 the Manager is entirely occupied with his Special Corre- 
 spondents and his foreign news, the two of them between 
 them have agreed to hand over all the books to me. And 
 I can tell you I mean to make some of those fellows sit up 1 
 There's a great deal too much of mutual puffery going 
 on 
 
 At this moment Miss Georgie's mischievous eyes became 
 demure and inscrutable ; she dared not laugh ; she would 
 not offend one from whom Lady Adela Cunyngham was 
 always expecting a little judicious help. 
 
 " — especially among the bardlets — the small poets — who 
 keep bandying verses the one to the other. And some of 
 them in Government offices, too ! — pocketing the pubhc 
 money — and scrawling their wretched sentimental trash on 
 her Majesty's stationery, with her Majesty's pens and ink. 
 I tell you I mean to make them hop ! — like a hen on a hot 
 girdle " 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Quirk," said Lady Adela, "I'm sure you 
 wouldn't do anything unkind 1 " 
 
 " Well, well," he said, doubtfully shaking his head— his 
 extremely unprepossessing head — " that is as it may be. I 
 intend to keep my section of the paper lively. The public 
 doesn't read books ; but it does delight in slashing reviews ; 
 and it shall have them. And I am going to start a literary 
 causerie as well : some of those pretentious dolts who pose 
 as wits and philosophers — philosophers catching at the coat 
 tails of Comte — a lot of those fellows want taking down a 
 peg — several pegs "
 
 6o BRISEIS 
 
 " But just think, Mr. Quirk," Lady Adela pleaded, 
 " about the reviews : you might be doing an irreparable 
 injury to some poor struggling aspirant " 
 
 " Then let them stop struggling and aspiring," he said, 
 with his boisterous hilarity. "We have quite enough 
 authors already, of recognised position. You yourself. 
 Lady Adela, have acquired your status : you are no longer 
 an amateur." 
 
 Of course that clinched the matter : Lady Adela, looking 
 as proud and pleased as if she had been presented with the 
 Crown of England, had no further thought for the poor 
 struggling aspirant. And meanwhile young Gordon, who 
 had been eyeing with a vague curiosity this moiiton-enrage 
 sort of creature, and who was not much interested in liis 
 shop-talk, had been inwardly saying to himself : ' My fat 
 friend, it would do you a world of good if you were made 
 to crawl six miles up the Corrieara burn with a rifle in your 
 hand. And perhaps two or three days' starvation wouldn't 
 do you much harm either,' 
 
 Then they all went down to the rooms on the lower 
 floor ; and they were lucky enough to secure a small table 
 for themselves ; and they had tea, amid the moving and 
 murmuring crowd ; while Frank Gordon, glancing round 
 him from time to time, so far from finding anything to 
 shock him (he rather wanted to be shocked, the scoundrel), 
 thought he had never seen anywhere a more pleasant- 
 looking, intelligent-looking, and well-dressed set of folk. 
 And then Miss Lestrange said to the lady who was pre- 
 siding at this little festivity : 
 
 " Addie, listen. Do you think it would be a dreadful 
 breach of confidence if I showed you some lines that Miss 
 Penguin dashed off yesterday morning, when she was in 
 here ? You know, I rather think she likes these pieces 
 handed about — especially when they're just a trifle strong — 
 I mean, when an editor would probably fight shy of 
 them " 
 
 " Come away with it, Georgie," said Lady Adela, laughing, 
 " Never mind about Miss Penguin." 
 
 " Oh, but really I think the little piece is very fine," 
 replied Miss Georgie, with much seriousness, as she dived 
 into the recesses of her purse. " The fact is, what she aims
 
 THE HYPAT2A—AND THEREAFTER 6i 
 
 at is passion — passion — passion. She declares there is no 
 
 passion in our modem literature " 
 
 " Let's see what she has to say for herself " 
 
 At this point Miss Georgie found the fragment of paper 
 
 she was seeking ; and it was handed round ; and when it 
 
 arrived at young Gordon this was what he read : 
 
 We stagger through blunders and errors — 
 
 Be it ill — be it well : 
 Till we come to the lightnings and terrors — 
 
 And we quail not at Hell! 
 
 " Yes, it's rather choice," he observed, with a critical air. 
 
 " Oh, there's no impressing you," said Georgie Lestrango, 
 impatiently, and she snatched back the paper. And then 
 she smiled. " Well, Sir Francis, if Miss Penguin turns up 
 this afternoon, I will introduce you to her. And you 
 mustn't mind much what she says. The truth is, since 
 some brute of a man threw her pet pug overboard— it was 
 somewhere in the Black Sea, I believe — she has been just a 
 wee, tiny bit cross with things in general. But she means 
 well ; and she's a dear, unreasonable, quixotic kind of 
 creature ; and be sure you remember that she writes under 
 the name of Sappho." 
 
 Georgie was as good as her word ; for hardly had they 
 risen from the table, after their brief refreshment, when she 
 exclaimed : 
 
 " Why, here is Miss Penguin just come in ! " 
 
 And the next moment young Frank Gordon found him- 
 self being presented to no less a celebrity than the poetess 
 of fire and fury, of spasms and gasps. She was a somewhat 
 elderly and rather dowdily-dressed woman, who had a 
 baleful eye ; and the meaning of that aggressive eye he was 
 soon to discover ; because it now happened that certain 
 friends of iliss Lestrange came up to claim her, so that he 
 was left at the mercy of Sappho. 
 
 " Hadn't we better go into the courtyard ? " she said, 
 abruptly. " It is pestiferous here." 
 
 This was a command rather than an invitation ; and 
 meekly he followed her through the open French windows. 
 The stone courtyard was a bare-looking place ; but there 
 were a few scarlet geraniums in pots, and there was some 
 ivy on the wall.
 
 62 BRISEIS 
 
 "Ilave you read my ' Mirrorings ' ? " she demanded 
 forthwith. 
 
 "Well— eh— not yet," he said, in utmost trepidation. 
 " I have not been so lucky. But— but I have heard that 
 the poems are beautiful — full of fervour " 
 
 "They are not poems," she observed, calmly (and he 
 wished the paving-stones would open and swallow him up). 
 "The book is a novel. And it is a novel of fashionable 
 society as it exists at the present day ; and I wished to ask 
 you if the picture is not a true one." 
 
 "Oh, but I am not a fashionable person at all 1 " he 
 exclaimed, with momentary relief. "Far from that. I 
 know hardly anything of London life. My interests are all 
 in the country " 
 
 " But you must be well aware of what is going on," she 
 said, with a severity that brought him to his senses, and 
 scattered to the winds his trembling subterfuges. "You 
 go enough into society to know what exists there. And it 
 is time that some one should speak the truth. It is time 
 an exposure should be made." 
 
 And from this starting-point she proceeded with such a 
 denunciation of the vices of fashionable society as nearly 
 took his breath away ; and not only that, but she appeared 
 to hold him responsible for this appalling condition of 
 affairs. At first he only mildly protested. 
 
 "Miss Penguin," he said, "how can you believe such 
 things ? And how can you know ? I must put it plainly 
 — how can any unmarried woman know ? ' 
 
 " The married women of my acquamtance are my 
 authority ! " she retorted. 
 
 And with that she made a statement still more sweeping 
 and preposterous than any of her previous allegations. It 
 shall not be repeated here, for the simple reason that the 
 morbid imaginings of a neglected, and elderly, and ill- 
 conditioned spinster would be interesting only to doctors — 
 as the symptoms of a familiar disease. Young Gordon 
 could Ijut say : 
 
 " Oh, that is absurd. Pardon me, but it is quite absurd. 
 I have as wide a circle of friends and acquaintances as most 
 people ; and I am certain no such state of things exists — 
 there may be isolated cases here and there, of com-se.
 
 THE HYPATIA—AND THEREAFTER 63 
 
 Why, even if the men were so base, do you imagine their 
 wives would allow such a system to continue ? — they could 
 not be kept in ignorance 1 " 
 
 " Oh, I dare say their wives are just as bad as they are 1 " 
 she answered him, tauntingly. 
 
 Now at this there arose in Frank Gordon's heart some- 
 thing that was not to be repressed ; he tried to choke it 
 down, but he could not ; for it seemed to him that all the 
 women whom he knew and honoured — all the mothers and 
 wives whom he knew and honoured — were being slandered 
 by this frowsy fool, this Sappho of the Seven Dials. 
 
 " If these are the stories," said he — and he averted his 
 eyes, for he knew that they were hot with indignation — 
 " that the married women of your acquaintance tell to you, 
 an unmarried woman, I can only wonder amongst what set 
 of people you live." 
 
 Then he checked himself hard. Her language had been 
 brutal ; but he had no right to reply with brutality. And 
 at this moment a heaven-born inspiration sprang into his 
 brain. 
 
 " Oh, Miss Penguin," said he, with affected cheerfulness, 
 " do you know that Mr. Octavius Quirk is here ? — and he 
 has just been given the control of the reviews of a daily 
 paper ; and I suppose he must be forming a staff of con- 
 tributors. Wouldn't you like to talk to him about it ? 
 Shall I go and fetch him to you ? " 
 
 " Oh, will you — will you ? " she said, eagerly ; and with- 
 out another unnecessary word he left. 
 
 As he was passing through the first of the lower rooms, 
 he came upon Miss Georgie Lestrange, who turned aside 
 from her small coterie to find out how he had been 
 getting on. 
 
 " Why did you introduce me to that woman .? " he said, 
 rather angrily. " She's a brute ! " 
 
 But at this junctm-e Lady Adela Cuuyngham came up. 
 
 " Sir Francis," said the tall, and smiling, and comely 
 young matron, " would you Uke to join in a Httle bit of a 
 frolic ? " 
 
 His mood changed in a moment — he had a quite boyish 
 love of diversion. 
 
 " Certainly — certainly I "
 
 64 BRISEIS 
 
 ""Well," said she, "this is what I propose. Sir Hugh 
 has gone down into Devonshire ; and I have just dis- 
 covered that Georgie, and my sisters Sibyl and Rose, have 
 no engagement whatever for to-night ; and my idea is to 
 have an evening in Scotland." 
 
 " What ? " he said — fearing she had gone mad. 
 
 " "We will have all the shutters shut," she went on ; 
 " and all the lamps and gases lit ; and I've telegraphed 
 home to see if they can let us have dinner at seven — with 
 cockalcekie, if possible ; and we are all to be in tartan 
 things, or at least homespun ; and we are to imagine our- 
 selves in Strathaivron — at the lodge, you know — with the 
 guns, and the keepers, and the ponies, and the panniers, 
 just come down from the hill " 
 
 " Delightful — delightful I " he cried, with enthusiasm. 
 " What a grand idea ! And so awfully good of you to give 
 me a chance of joining in ! But, Lady Adela, if you don't 
 mind, I would rather have twenty minutes at my rooms, 
 to change these hateful garments fori something more 
 sensible " 
 
 " Why, we're all going home now for the very same 
 purpose ! You come along as soon as you can. Sir Francis. 
 It's getting late, you know. And we must not have the 
 cockaleekie cold." 
 
 Sad it is to say that he forgot all about the perfervid 
 Sappho whom he had left pacing the solitary courtyard ; 
 and he never bestowed a thought on Mr. Octavius Quirk ; 
 he went out, and jumped into a hansom, and drove to his 
 rooms in Jermyn Street, and there he quickly exchanged 
 his town costume for Norfolk jacket and knickerbockers. 
 Then he got into another hansom, and was rapidly con- 
 veyed out to Aivron Lodge, Campdcn Ilill. 
 
 And here the drawing-room, with the shutters closed, 
 was all lit up ; and Lady Adela, and her sisters the Ladies 
 Sibyl and Rosamund Bourne, and Georgie Lcstrange, were 
 disporting themselves in such scarfs or bodices of tartan as 
 they had been able to find — Miss Lcstrange, indeed, had a 
 dark blue Tam o' Shanter curbing her rebellious ruddy 
 tresses ; and each of them had at her neck a brooch of 
 cairngorms or a ptarmigan's foot set in silver. Young 
 Gordon of Grantly threw himself on to a chair.
 
 ' THE HYPATIA—AND THEREAFTER 65 
 
 " Lady Adela," said he, in an exhausted kind of fashion, 
 " will you forgive me if I don't dress for dinner to-night ? 
 I'm completely done. "We've had an awful stalk. Three 
 hours up the Corrieara burn before we could get to leeward 
 of the beasts ; and then the stag I hit disappeared ; we 
 hunted and hunted ; and do you know where we found 
 him — about an hour and a half ago ? — why, he had been 
 able to run as far as the Black Rocks, and then he had 
 tumbled dead, and rolled right down into Glen Shima. 
 "We found him in a peat-hag — his feet sticking up " 
 
 " You are a lovely liar," said Miss Georgie Lestrange, 
 half -audibly ; and then she went over to the piano, and sat 
 down, and sonorously struck two handfuls of keys. "W^hat 
 was this ? 
 
 ' Cam ye by Atliol, lad vdth the philabeg, 
 Down by the Tummel, or banks of the Garry ? 
 Saw ye the lads wi' their bonnets and white cockades, 
 Leaving their mountains to follow Prince Charlie ? 
 
 Follow thee, follow thee, wha wadna follow thee ? 
 
 Lang hast thou lo'ed and trusted us fairly: 
 
 Charlie, Charlie, wha wadna follow thee ? 
 
 King o' the Highland hearts, bonnie Prince Charlie ! ' 
 
 She sang with extraordinary spirit, whatever a trained 
 musician might have thought of the quality of her voice ; 
 and this first verse was greeted with cheers of approval and 
 encouragement. And then she went on : 
 
 "b'- 
 
 TU to Lochiel, and Appin, and kneel to them; 
 Down by Lord Murray and Eoy of KildarUe ; 
 Brave Mackintosh he shall fly to the field with them; 
 These are the lads I can trust wi' my Charlie 1' 
 
 But SO infectious was the martial call that they all broke 
 out iniso the chorus : 
 
 ' Follow thee, follow thee, wha wadna follow thee ? 
 Lang hast thou lo'ed and trusted us fairly : 
 Charlie, Charlie, wha wadna follow thee ? 
 King 0' the Highland hearts, bonnie Prince Charlie I ' 
 
 In the midst of this tumult the door was opened. 
 
 "Dinner is served, yoiu: ladyship," said the grave and 
 unseeing butler. 
 
 So they all stopped, and burst out laughing ; and Lady
 
 66 BRISEIS 
 
 Adela drove the yomiger folk into the dining-room, herself 
 following last with Frank Gordon. 
 
 The soup was cockaleekie ; and if there is any form of 
 food more nutritions, and appetising, and wholesome, then 
 one person who has wandered about the face of the earth a 
 little bit is ignorant of it. But it was not of the viands 
 they were thinking. 
 
 " Georgie," said Lady Adela (in grave continuation of 
 the make-believe), "do you know what Honnor has done 
 to-day ? " 
 
 " I know what she did in the morning," said Miss Georgie 
 (who also was a tolerable liar), "for I went up to the 
 Geinig to share her lunch with her — not much of a lunch 
 either — biscuits, an apple, and a bottle of milk — and she 
 had got a fifteen-pounder out of the Horseshoe Pool. But 
 it's no use speaking to her — she's just daft with pride about 
 
 her new waders " Here the fair damsel suddenly turned 
 
 to the guest of the evening. " I wish to explain. Sir 
 Francis, that although Honnor Cunyngham — I mean Lady 
 Rockminster — goes fishing in waders, she preserves perfect 
 decorum ; for she wears a skirt over them — a simple skirt, 
 that doesn't drag, don't you know. And when she has 
 them on, she's as fond of the water as a Newfoundland 
 dog ; yesterday she wouldn't let old Robert pull the ferry- 
 boat across — she got hold of it by the bow, and dragged it 
 over to the other side " 
 
 "Well, reaUy," said Lady Adela, in a most serious 
 manner, " we must have something done at the Bad Step. 
 It is getting to be a more breakneck place than ever, for 
 the shingle is gradually falling to the foot of the precipice ; 
 and how Honnor can clamber down, with a long salmon-rod 
 over her shoulder, I don't understand. She won't let old 
 Robert carry anything now — except the lunch-bag and the 
 gaff " 
 
 And so they chattered on — these happy children — up 
 here on the still heights, with all the great murmuring 
 world of London quite forgotten. Then, when the simple 
 banquet was over, young Gordon rose. 
 
 " I'm going to propose a toast," said he, " and in Higli- 
 land fashion. I want you all to drink with me to the 
 health of the Lady of the House ! "
 
 THE HYPATIA^AND THEREAFTER 67 
 
 He got up on to his chair, and placed one foot on the 
 table ; the three girls, gigghng over the difficulty of the 
 performance, followed his example, holding their glasses 
 very shakily ; Lady Adela, blushing a little, remained 
 seated. And then he called to them : " Suasa ! suasa ! 
 Nish ! nish ! To the Baintighsarna ! " * He tossed off 
 the claret ; he threw the glass over his shoulder, shattering 
 it on the floor ; and the three merry maidens did the like, 
 though they seemed rather glad to get down from tlieir 
 unstable position. And then Lady Adela stood up, shyly, 
 and made a pretty little bow. 
 
 " It's awfully good of you," said she. " I'm sorry I 
 can't make a speech. I'm awfully sorry. But if you will 
 allow me, I will propose another and a more important 
 toast that I think will appeal to you — if you recall bygone 
 days it will appeal to you — maybe— maybe it will even 
 raise a lump in yom" throat — as it's like to do in mine- 
 well, I can't say more — but — but — Here is to Bonnie 
 Scotland ! " 
 
 At this there was a perfect whirlwind of cries. 
 
 " The land of the hills and glens ! " 
 
 " The land of the heather ! " 
 
 " Strathaivron — and all the friends who have been with 
 us there ! " 
 
 Then again Lady Adela interposed. 
 
 " Sib," she said to her sister, " you know, Scotland isn't 
 all skylarking. Come away now, and play something for 
 us — ' Caller Herrin,' perhaps." 
 
 So they all of them trooped into the drawing-room, and 
 Lady Sibyl got her violin out of its case, while Lady Rosa- 
 mund sat down to the piano. There was a little tuning ; 
 then the air began ; and the two sisters played very well, 
 for amatem-s ; as clearly as might be the vibrating strings 
 of the violin spoke their pathetic message : 
 
 ' Buy my caller herrin, 
 They're bonnie fish and halesome farin*. 
 Buy my caller herrin, 
 New drawn frae the Forth. 
 Wha'U buy my caller herrin ? 
 They're no brought hero without brave darin'. 
 
 * " Up with it ! up with it ! — Now ! now !— To the Lady of the 
 House 1 " 
 
 F 2
 
 68 BRISEIS 
 
 Buy my caller herrin, 
 Ye little ken their worth. 
 Wha'll buy my caller herrin ? — 
 O you may ca' them vulgar farin' 
 Wives and mithers, maist despairin', 
 Ca' them lives o' men.' 
 
 But no sooner had Lady Eosamund risen from the piano 
 than Georgie Lestrange took her place. 
 
 " Oh, that kind of thing will never do I " she exclaimed 
 (though her own eyes were brimming with tears), and 
 thereupon she dashed into the lively strains of 
 
 'Hey, Johnnie Cope, are ye waukin yet, 
 And are your drums a-beating yet? 
 If j'e were waukin, I wad wait, ; 
 To meet Johnnie Cope in the morning I ' 
 
 She suddenly stopped. She pretended to hear something. 
 She ran to one of the windows. 
 
 " Listen, you people, listen ! " she cried. " It's Roderick 
 — and Colin — they've brought home the stag ! " Then she 
 called out into the dark : " How many points, Roderick ? 
 Twelve points ? A Royal ? Well done ! And why are you 
 so late ? Couldn't catch the pony ? Wasn't it hobbled ? 
 But it had to be chased all the same ? And you couldn't 
 stop it till it got down to the Glaisyer burn ? And in the 
 dark the strapping of the stag on to the saddle wasn't easy ? 
 AVell, I should think not ! Now you go round to Jeffries 
 and tell him that you and Colin are to have an extra glass 
 of whiskey to-night ; and I've no doubt, seeing it's a Royal, 
 that Sir Francis will give each of you a couple of sovereigns 
 in the morning. And in the mean time," continued this 
 giddy-pated lass, turning to her audience, " ladies and gentle- 
 men, since there are just enough of you for a reel, we must 
 celeljrate the coming home of the stag." 
 
 She went quickly back to the piano, and again struck her 
 hands on the keys. What the frantic reel or strathspey was 
 they did not stay to consider ; the well-known air had all 
 of them at once to their feet, facing their partners ; and 
 before they knew what they were about these laughing folk 
 were going through elaborately intricate evolutions, with 
 many a wild ' hooch ! ' thrown in to stimulate Georgie's 
 intoxicating music. It was at this point that the drawing-
 
 THE HYPATIA—AND THEREAFTER 69 
 
 room door was opened, and once more the calm-visaged 
 butler made his appearance. 
 
 " Lord Kockminster," he said, in an absent kind of 
 fashion. 
 
 There advanced into the room a portentously tall man — 
 a man in his way just as handsome as his three beautiful 
 sisters ; and when he had recovered from his momentary 
 bewilderment, and when the confusion had been quelled, 
 he said : 
 
 " Yery sorry to interrupt ; but I've some news — I hope 
 for every one of you. I've been writing and writing for 
 the last fortnight ; but the final telegram only came this 
 evening. I've taken Glen Skean Castle for the autumn. 
 Now, look here, Addie, to begin with you : Cunyngham is 
 perfectly well aware that the Strathaivron moor must be let 
 alone for the next two years— it will take all that time to 
 recover. So I consider that he and you are booked. I 
 won't take any refusal. And you. Miss Lestrange— may we 
 count on you ? " 
 
 " The prospect is just heavenly 1 " said Georgie, with her 
 eyes gleaming delight. 
 
 " You, Sib ? " 
 
 " Of course 1 " 
 
 " You, Rose ? " 
 
 " Me, too, please 1 " said the youngest of the sisters. 
 
 "As for Gordon," continued this tall person, who was 
 generally known as ' Eock,' " we simply can't do without 
 him on the Twelfth ; and besides, there are two beats on the 
 Skean — with a sprinkling of forty-pounders, I am told ; 
 and he can exchange with Honnor just as they may choose. 
 And then I'm going to ask the Prince and Princess, if they 
 haven't gone back to Monteveltro. AVhat do you say as 
 regards yourself, Gordon ? " 
 
 "I'm on — awfully good of you," was the instant 
 response. 
 
 " So that's all settled," said Lord Rockminster, placidly. 
 " And now, drop your tomfoolery, and let's go into the 
 dining-room, and have some cigarettes, and soda-water, and 
 things." 
 
 What time that party broke up (for they were not yet 
 done with Bonnie Scotland) it is needless to mquire ; but
 
 70 BRISETS 
 
 at last, at the door, the ladies came along to bid Rock- 
 minster and Frank Gordon farewell ; and the younger of 
 the two men said : 
 
 " Lady Adela, I really don't know how to thank you. It 
 has been the grandest night I ever spent in London." 
 
 "And about the maddest, I should think," said she, 
 laughing, as she gave him her hand. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 A GKEEK SLAVE. 
 
 "Now, Briseis, dear," said Mrs. Alexander Elliott to her 
 niece, as these two were seated in the somewhat dusky 
 dining-room of a large house in Devonshire Place, Regent's 
 Park, " you must not think me unfeeling if I try to explain 
 a few matters to you, though no doubt you are tired after 
 so long and fatiguing a journey. You see, it is absolutely 
 necessary. I fear you did not pay much heed to what 
 Mr. Murray the lawyer told you ; you were so completely 
 overcome by what had happened — naturally ; you did not 
 seem to understand that your little fortune was as good as 
 gone ; and not only that, but your uncle appears to have 
 been eating into his own small capital to give you the six- 
 per-cent. interest regularly, and keep you in ignorance. 
 AYell, he has made you what reparation he could ; he has 
 left you every penny he possessed ; though I did think he 
 was going to do something for Olga and Brenda — if it was 
 impossible about Edward " 
 
 " Aunt Clara," cried the girl, " my cousins shall have the 
 money ! — they must take the money. I can earn my own 
 living. I can go back to Athens — and teach English " 
 
 " Leave me a little self-respect," said the pale-faced, 
 anxious-eyed widow, with some semblance of pride. " You 
 were confided to my care ; and I have always endeavoured 
 to do my duty. And sometimes the struggle has been a 
 hard one — yes, sometimes very hard — harder than you might 
 imagine. But now, Briseis, I wish to explain further : the 
 interest on this money that your uncle has left you will not 
 do much more than keep you in clothes, with a trifle for
 
 A GREEK SLAVE 71 
 
 your pocket — and so far you are independent ; while here 
 is a home for you, and a hearty welcome ; only, I — I was 
 going to make an appeal to you — whether you would mind 
 lending a hand about the house " 
 
 " I will do anything — anything. Aunt Clara — and be 
 delighted ! " cried Briseis, most cheerfully. " I have been 
 so idle and useless — nothing but amusement. Tell me 
 what I can do ! " 
 
 " Of course I would not ask you to do anything menial ; 
 but it is different when family affection is the motive " 
 
 " Tell me what I can do I " 
 
 "Well, for example," continued Aunt Clara, rather 
 apprehensively, " there are your cousins Olga and Brenda : 
 they are the dearest and sweetest girls ; but their tempera- 
 ments are extremely sensitive ; and they have to be studied, 
 in the smallest particulars, or some serious illness might 
 ensue. Each of them has to have a cup of tea taken to her 
 room every morning at seven " 
 
 " I will take up the tea to them I " exclaimed Briseis — as 
 if it were a privilege. 
 
 " Oh, would you ? — ^would you be so very obliging ? " 
 said the widow, with the somewhat sad and yet resolute face 
 showing instant relief. " That will be so good of you ! 
 And then at nine each has her breakfast in her own room — 
 and it is such a busy hour — there are so many of us " 
 
 " But I will carry up breakfast to them ! " said Briseis, 
 with the beautiful black eyes wondering. Was this all that 
 was to be demanded of her ? 
 
 Of a sudden the door was thrown open, and there marched 
 into the room a flabby-faced, flaxen-haired girl of about 
 eighteen, whose naturally pallid skin was flushed with anger 
 and vexation. 
 
 " I will stand this no longer," she said, hotly. " I will 
 not be insulted by lodgers. Either they leave the house or 
 I do. Why should I be insulted by lodgers ? What else 
 are they ? Oh, yes, I know ! Young ladies of good 
 family, who are to be introduced to polite society — and 
 this big house is kept up on their account — and every one 
 put to the greatest inconvenior.^e .?.^d worry " 
 
 " My dear Olga 1 " — but no heed would she take of th? 
 feeble protest.
 
 75 SRISEIS 
 
 " Young ladies of good family 1 Country bumpkins who 
 come to town to be taken to a few concerts and private 
 views I And I will not stand it any longer. I will not be 
 insulted — I will not — I will not ! I will not be told that I 
 have the temper of a hedgehog 1 That Bingham girl — 
 that cat, Ada Bingham — must leave the house — or I do 1 " 
 And therewith she flounced out of the room again, slamming 
 the door behind her. 
 
 The poor mother was all trembling. Presently she said, 
 in a limp kind of way : 
 
 " It's so dreadfully inconsiderate of any one to cross her, 
 if you think of her sensitive temperament. If she was as 
 dull and commonplace and thick-skinned as most girls, I 
 dare say she wouldn't mind ; but now this will just break 
 her down. I know what she will do ; she will go straight 
 to her bed, in complete collapse ; and every hour she will 
 have to have scrambled eggs and tea sent to her — keeping 
 a maid coming and going the whole day long. It's so 
 inconsiderate of Miss Bingham. And yet I cannot aiford 
 to quarrel with her. I must find some means of soothing 
 Olga's wounded feelings- 
 
 44 "" ~ 
 
 ■ Shall I go up to her room. Aunt Clara," said Briseis 
 (who was insensately anxious to be of use, no matter in 
 what direction), " and try to pacify her ? " 
 
 " Oh, no — oh, no 1 " exclaimed the mother, in great 
 alarm. " She would fling things at you — I mean — I mean, 
 she might not understand — she wants some one who knows 
 her ways. And I suppose I must go now and see about the 
 scrambled eggs." 
 
 As she said this, she sighed, and rose from her chair. 
 But the next moment all her countenance lighted up with 
 an expression of the greatest kindness and affection ; for 
 there came into the room — or rather hobbled in on crutches 
 — a poor small lad of twelve or thirteen. This was the 
 only one of her cousins whom Briseis had not as yet 
 encountered ; and she had no sooner set eyes on him — 
 regarding his friendly glance, his modest demeanour, and 
 the gallant effort he made to shake hands with her, despite 
 the crutches — than she knew that here was a little gentle- 
 man. She took a liking to him from the first instant. 
 
 " Cousin Briseis," he said, eagerly, as soon as his mother
 
 A GREEK SLAVE 73 
 
 had gone away to look after the afflicted Olga, "you are 
 from Greece : have you seen the Plain of Marathon ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, many a time," she said, in her pleasantest 
 manner ; and she could be extremely pleasant, both with 
 voice and looks. "When you go up Pentelicus — you 
 know that is where the quarries are, where they got the 
 marble for the temples on the Acropolis— you look right 
 across the Plain of Marathon." 
 
 " And Salamis ? " said this poor chap with the pinched 
 features and the wide-staring blue eyes. 
 
 " Oh, yes ; you can see the Bay of Salamis from any of 
 the heights about Athens. Quite close by." 
 1 " And Thermopylae ? " 
 
 " Ah, that's much further away — and one doesn't often go 
 round by that part of the coast." 
 
 " I suppose you haven't been as far as Troy ? " he said, 
 with the same wistful, imaginative intensity. " You 
 couldn't tell me what the country is hke ? " 
 
 " Well, I have sailed past it," said she, good-naturedly ; 
 " but there's not much to be seen from the steamer. First 
 you come in sight of Mount Ida " 
 
 " Many-fountained Ida 1 " he exclaimed, breathlessly. 
 
 « — that's inland from Cape Baba. And then you have 
 Tenedos on your left — Tenedos is a yellowish-looking 
 island. But the shores of the Troad are ruddy, as far 
 as I remember ; and what you chiefly notice are a number 
 of queer little windmills — attached to the wine-presses, 
 you know " 
 
 " Briseis," said he — for his mind was extraordinarily 
 alert, jumping from one subject to another with astonishing 
 swiftness — " what is the meaning of ' Zoe mou, sas agapo ' .? " 
 
 " That is ' My Life, I love you 1 ' But you seem to have 
 read a great deal, Adalbert." 
 
 The boy's lips quivered, and his eyes filled. 
 
 " What else have I had to do, Briseis ? " he said, looking 
 down. " I have never been allowed to go to school — ^I 
 have never had any games." But the next moment he 
 had plucked up his courage. " Briseis, do you know the 
 story of General Gordon at Khartoimi ? They say that 
 when he knew he was going to be killed, he put on his 
 full uniform, and took no weapon of any kind with him,
 
 74 B RISE IS 
 
 no revolver or sword, and he went and stood at the top of the 
 staircase, and waited for them, and faced them in that way 
 when they rushed in." He looked at her for a moment. 
 *' I believe you could have done that. Cousin Briseis." 
 
 " What ? " she cried, in amazement. 
 
 '' You know, you are very pretty," he said, in a simple 
 and yet earnest kind of fashion. "You won't mind my 
 saying it — for I'm only a boy — and I want you to be a chum 
 of mine ; but there's something more than that about you. 
 I think you should have a gold helmet on your head — and 
 you should have a double-handed sword — and you could 
 hew them down ! " 
 
 I "I?" said she, laughing outright. "I? Why, I 
 jump on to a chair if I catch sight of a mouse ! " 
 
 " That's different," he said, doggedly. " That's different. 
 I believe you would have held a shield in front of Horatius 
 when he kept the bridge. Of course you must be brave. 
 You have been brought up within sight of Salamis, and 
 ]\Iarathon, and Thermopylae. Of course you must be 
 brave. I think you could stand at a door, with a double- 
 handed sword in your hands — if you were defending any 
 one you cared for — and it would be a bad look-out for the 
 other people " 
 
 " AVell, well, Adalbert," said she, with the beautiful, soft, 
 dark eyes smiling, " who would have thought that I could 
 be so ferocious ? I'm afraid you haven't guessed rightly 
 this time. It won't be long before you find out what a 
 coward I am. Only, you and I are going to be chums — 
 that's agreed." 
 
 Just then Mrs. EUiott returned — despondent and almost 
 despairing. 
 
 " Oh, it's dreadful 1 " she said. " The poor darling child 
 is quite broken down. And Miss Bingham refuses to send 
 a single word of apology. And that means a maid's 
 services lost for the whole day." But at this she pulled 
 herself together — for she was a woman with many cares, 
 who had little time for repining. " Briseis," she said, 
 " would you be so extremely kind as to take Adalbert out 
 now, for a turn in the Park ? He generally goes out at 
 this hour — I am so sorry to trouble you — but things seem 
 to be going againat me "
 
 A GREEK SLAVE 75' 
 
 " Why, Aunt Clara," said Briseis, at once jumping to her 
 feet, " you should have told me before 1 " 
 
 And away she went to fetch her hat. When she came 
 down again she discovered what was expected of her. There 
 was an invalid-chair in the hall, and the poor lad was 
 waiting. She did not hesitate for a moment. She got 
 the chair out and on to the pavement ; she assisted her 
 cousin to his place ; she carried back his crutches into 
 the house ; and then she set forth, she pushing the chair, 
 while he directed its course. It never occurred to her to 
 ask whether this was a menial task or whether the motive 
 was family affection ; and as little did she stay to consider 
 whether the people in the Marylebone Road might fancy 
 she was a nursery-maid in charge of a perambulator. She 
 was happy in having something to do ; and she was in- 
 terested in this small gentleman, whose intrepid valour, 
 unluckily, had all to be of the subjective kind — a mere 
 mirror and reflection of what he might have wished for in 
 actual life. 
 
 And then the day was quite cheerful — for London ; a 
 breezy day with blue and white skies shining down through 
 the prevailing pale mist ; and when they had passed in by 
 York Gate and entered upon the winding avenues of 
 feathery ash, and sturdier sycamore, and tall, rustling, 
 swaying poplars, throughout this world of leafage there 
 was a perpetual soft murmur as of the sea. Then they 
 made their way to the lake ; and there was a shimmering 
 silver on the water, with olive-green reflections under the 
 banks ; and there were bobbing ducks and stately swans ; 
 and all the busy life of the small boy-mariners adventuring 
 their tiny craft on the bosom of the rippling and glancing 
 main. Not at all a dismal place — for London ; and her 
 crippled cousin seemed to know its quietest nooks and 
 recesses ; presently they had drawn up by a wooden bench, 
 where there was comparative sohtude, and she could sit 
 there while he talked to her. 
 
 " Cousin Briseis," said he, " you are an Elliott too, you 
 know ; did you ever hear of the Lion of Liddesdale ? " 
 
 She confessed her ignorance. 
 
 " "Well, if you will look in the pouch at the back of the 
 chair, you wUl find a volume of ballads ; and in it is ' Lock
 
 75 ' BRISEIS 
 
 the door, Lariston ' — I wish you would read it aloud to me 
 — it sounds so much better when you hear some one else 
 repeat it." 
 
 She did as she was bid ; she searched in the cunning 
 receptacle, that she discovered to be filled with books and 
 magazines, chiefly of wild adventure ; and at last she was 
 ready to begin her recitation : 
 
 •Lock the door, Lariston, lion of Liddesdale — 
 Lock the door, Lariston, Louther comes on; 
 
 The Armstrongs are flying, 
 
 The widows are crying, 
 The Castlctouu's burning, and Oliver's gone.* 
 
 She did not in the least know what the story was about ; but 
 as she proceeded she could see that this poor lad's sensitive 
 physique was all tremulous with excitement, and his look 
 was keen and exultant. 
 
 ' Why dost thou smile, noble Elliott of Lariston ? 
 Why does the joy-candle gleam in thine eye? 
 Thou bold border-ranger, 
 Beware of thy danger, 
 Thy foes are relentless, determined, and nigh,* 
 
 Nay, as she finished — 
 
 • See how they wane, the proud file of the Windermere, 
 Howard, ah I woe to thy hopes of the day I 
 
 Hear the rude welkin rend 
 
 While the Scots' shouts ascend: 
 " Elliott of Lariston, Elliott for aye I " '— 
 
 he turned to her, his face quite pale with emotion — 
 
 " Are you not proud of being an Elliott, Briseis ? " he 
 demanded. 
 
 " I had never read the ballad before," she said, more 
 calmly. 
 
 " And you have such a beautiful voice 1 " he exclaimed. 
 " You could read anything — I mean, you could put the 
 right sound into it. I can hear your voice now — 'ringing. 
 It is wonderful. Briseis — if you don't mind — there's 
 Campbell's Poems in the bag there — if you were to get 
 them out — I think you are the only one I ever knew who 
 could recite ' Ye Mariners of England' — would you mind?" 
 
 She hunted about, and found the book.
 
 A GREEK SLAVE 77 
 
 " I hope I am not troubling you too much," said the 
 email gentleman. " I only want you to repeat one verse. 
 It's ' Britannia needs no bulwarks ' " 
 
 And so she pronounced the lines — as nobly as she could : 
 
 ' Britannia needs no bulwarks, 
 No towers along the steep; 
 Her march is o'er the mountain waves, 
 Her home is on the deep. 
 "With thunders from her native oak 
 She quells the floods below, . 
 As they roar on the shore 
 "When the stormy winds do blow — 
 "When the battle rages loud and long. 
 And the stormy winds do blow ! ' 
 
 " But you make one mistake," said he, rather dis- 
 appointedly. *'It should be winds, not winds. Am I 
 bothering you too much. Cousin Briseis ? — will you read 
 it again ? " 
 
 She was a most biddable creature. Again she read the 
 
 verse, this time altering her pronunciation to give the 
 
 sonorous winds : 
 
 ' As they roar on the shore 
 When the stormy winds do blow — 
 "When the battle rages loud and long. 
 And the stormy winds do blow 1 ' 
 
 " Isn't it splendid ! — splendid ! " he cried, his frail 
 frame almost panting with enthusiasm. "And aren't you 
 glad you are of English blood ? And Greek blood, too, 
 of course. Briseis, tell me about Greece. Were you ever 
 near the island that Ulysses came back to, when his dog 
 recognised him ? That was — well, I forget — but his dog 
 knew him " 
 
 " Oh, that was Ithaca — Thiaki they generally call it now: 
 I used sometimes to go and stay there for a week or two 
 with a cousin of my father's " 
 
 " And what is it like — what is it actually like now, 
 Briseis ? " he said, with his eyes again grown eager and 
 visionary. 
 
 " Why, the most beautiful island you ever beheld ! " she 
 went on, only too glad that she could amuse him. " Very 
 mountainous in most parts — with sheltered bays down at
 
 78 BRISEIS 
 
 the coast— and gardens round the villas— and white terraces 
 —and olive groves along the hill-slopes. I used to climb 
 up through these olive groves until I could get a wide view 
 of the other islands ; and it was just like fairy-land, the 
 colour was so fine and clear — ^you would think everything 
 was transparent, though here and there was a sprinkling of 
 tall black cypresses. And then you can't imagine how 
 intensely blue the sea is— and you watch the gaily-coloured 
 boats with their double sails like the wings of a bird — and 
 sometimes the sails are white, but mostly they're a rich 
 ruddy brown. I never did get so high up as the summit of 
 Mount Aetos — that is where the ruins are that they call the 
 Castle of Ulysses ; but I may be more fortunate some other 
 
 time ; and then I hope you may be there too " 
 
 She suddenly stopped— and a flush of frightened em- 
 barrassment sprang to. her forehead. How could she have 
 been so heedless and cruel as to talk to this poor maimed 
 lad — even in the innocent prattle with which she had 
 sought to entertain him — of any attempt on his part to 
 scale the rough slopes of Mount Aetos ? However, if he 
 had taken notice, he would not reveal the fact. He be- 
 trayed neither mortification nor resentment. He only said 
 gently : 
 
 "I think we ought to be going back now, Briseis. 
 Mamma does not like any one to be late for luncheon." 
 
 They did get back in time ; and a very queer meal that 
 luncheon proved to be. First of all, just as Briseis had 
 assisted her cousin Adalbert to get into his chair at the 
 table, there came into the dining-room the younger sister, 
 Breuda— a stout, Inmpish girl, with yellow hair, wliitc eye- 
 lashes, and about the sulkiest mouth that mortal man or 
 woman ever beheld. She had met Briseis before, so she 
 passed on without a word. Then Mrs. Alexander Elliott 
 appeared, followed by three young ladies— three pleasant- 
 complexioned, rather countrified misses, who, as they were 
 introduced to the foreign stranger, wore a look of un- 
 accountable shyness, not to say dismay. What that extra- 
 ordinary expression betokened Briseis could not imagine ; 
 but she was soon to learn. Meantime they all took their 
 places ; and then ensued a period of constrained waitiug, 
 almost in silence. The anxious mother kept glancing
 
 A GREEK SLAVE 79 
 
 nervously towards the door ; the maid at the sideboard was 
 evidently listening. And at last, after a considerable delay 
 that every moment becamejmore depressing, there lounged 
 into the room, with his hands in his pockets, a tall, cada- 
 verous, supercilious-looking youth, who lazily strolled along 
 to the chair at the head of the table, without a syllable of 
 apology to any one. It was his mother who spoke for him. 
 
 " You must excuse Edward," she said in a low voice to 
 Briseis. " He is so busy with his studies. And he does 
 not like us to begin without him." 
 
 Then the frugal luncheon was served ; and again Aimt 
 Clara turned to Briseis — this time talking in tones that all 
 should hear : 
 
 " Do you know, Briseis, I have been told that you are a 
 most accomplished linguist ; and I am sure you wiU agree 
 with me that there is nothing more valuable, for a young 
 girl going into society, than fluent French — not the French 
 of the school-room and grammars, but the French that 
 people actually speak. And it has occurred to me — you are 
 so friendly and obliging — that if our conversation at lunch- 
 time were to be exclusively in French " 
 
 " What rot 1 " muttered the medical student at the head 
 of the table. 
 
 <■<■ — and if you would be so kind as to suggest any more 
 correct phrases or elegant idioms to the dear girls there " 
 
 The fear on the faces of the three young ladies deepened 
 to fright ; and now Briseis understood. It had been the 
 dread of having to talk to her in French that had been at 
 the bottom of their incomprehensible shyness when they 
 came into the room. Nevertheless, Briseis bravely buckled 
 to her task ; she tried to encourage them ; she asked them, 
 in sufficiently simple phrases, about their pursuits and 
 occupations, and so forth. Each of them kept her eyes 
 resolutely fixed on her plate, doubtless hoping that one of 
 the others would respond ; and as all three were of the 
 same mind, the result was a most ghastly stillness. At last 
 Mrs. EUiott made a piteous appeal to Miss Bingham, who 
 had caused the t^-agedy of the morning. 
 
 " Ada, why don't you answer Miss Valieri ? You need 
 not fear criticism. You know French well enough — only, 
 of course, you have not had much practice."
 
 8o BRISEIS 
 
 And then, indeed, the poor lass — with her face grown all 
 rosy-red — made a desperate plunge, 
 
 " Je suppose, mademoiselle," said she, in a gasping sort 
 of .way, " qu'on parle Frangais a la cour d'Athenes ? " 
 
 Briseis politely informed her that no doubt that must be 
 60 sometimes, but that the favourite language of the Court 
 of Athens was English. 
 
 The next girl was not to be outdone : 
 
 " Comment prononcez-vous, mademoiselle, le nom de I'ile 
 ou vous 6tiez nee — Aegina, ou Aegeena ? " 
 
 In reply the obliging Briseis (if she was inwardly laughing, 
 she made no sign) gave her the modern Greek pronuncia- 
 tion of the name of the island — which the wise virgin was 
 too prudent to attempt to repeat. 
 
 Then the youngest must have a try as well. 
 ' " Dans les rues d'Athenes, mademoiselle — est-ce que 
 vous avez le — le — le lit electrique ? " 
 
 There was a prevailing puzzlement for a brief second, 
 until Miss Ada rather angrily nudged her young neigh- 
 bour. 
 
 " La lumiere — la lumiere ! " she said, under her voice. 
 
 But the youngest was so overcome with confusion that 
 she did not seek to retrieve her blunder ; she collapsed 
 into an ashamed and hopeless silence. The other two, 
 however, having gained a little courage, went on with 
 their OUendorffian questions ; while Miss Brenda remained 
 sulkily apart, and the medical student, muttering in half- 
 heard English, grumbled about the hardness of the cold 
 boiled beef. 
 
 Immediately lunch was over, the company broke up, 
 the young ladies dispersing to their several rooms to get 
 ready for a walk in the Park, accompanied by Miss Ada's 
 uuiid — for Miss Ada's parents were kind enough to let her 
 have a maid all to herself. And then Mrs. Elliott asked 
 r)riscis to go with her to the drawing-room, where they 
 found themselves alone. 
 
 " I think you will soon begin to perceive how I am 
 situated, Briseis, dear," said the much-enduring widow. 
 " I have a hard light to make both ends meet ; but then, 
 as I often say, I have my reward ; there are few mothers 
 have such reason to be proud of their children as I have
 
 A GREEK SLAVE 8r 
 
 of mine. At the same time, it is a hard struggle. It 
 takes a great deal of planning, and management, and tact 
 — especially as regards the servants ; they know they have 
 too much work for their nmnber ; but I cannot afford to 
 engage more ; and yet I must keep up this big house — 
 with its large drawing-room — for my receptions ; and also 
 for — for — these young ladies who stay with me. But I 
 was speaking of the servants : well, they have to be treated 
 with the greatest consideration, or I don't know what 
 might not happen. For example, I never ring the bell 
 in this room. That would bring a girl up to see what was 
 wanted ; then she would have to go down to fetch it ; 
 then a third time coming up, and a fourth going down 
 again. AVhereas, if you go to the top of the kitchen-stair, 
 and call to them, you get what you want at once, and they 
 don't keep grumbling." 
 
 " I quite understand, Aunt Clara," said Briseis, after 
 this ingenious preamble. 
 
 " And that is what I was coming to," continued the 
 harassed widow, with rather a timid and apprehensive look ; 
 "you see, the maids sit down to their dinner presently, 
 and they do not like being disturbed. I was thinking 
 — whether you would mind going and asking cook to 
 prepare some more scrambled eggs and tea for poor dear 
 Olga ; and then, when they are ready, I'm sure you 
 wouldn't object to taking them up to her room. It is 
 more than an hour since she has had anvthing : and the 
 poor darling is quite upset if she thinks she is neglected. 
 It preys on her mind so ; and the worry simply destroys 
 her nerves — something quite dreadful might happen " 
 
 " Oh, I will go at once, Aimt Clara ! " said Briseis — • 
 for of course this was no menial duty ; the motive was 
 family affection. 
 
 " And now I can get off to my tradesmen's books," said 
 Aunt Clara, at once hurrying away. 
 
 So Briseis went down and saw the cook, and ingratiated 
 herself with that important person, and finally obtained the 
 wherewithal for Miss Olga's repast. Then she proceeded 
 up stairs to her cousin's room. She knocked at the door. 
 
 " Come in ! — oh, it's you ? Put the tray down on that 
 little table, please." 
 
 a
 
 82 3RISEIS 
 
 The flabby-cheeked girl, with her dull straw-coloured 
 hair dishevelled on the pillow, was lying in bed, reading 
 a ladies' paper that appeared to consist chiefly of fashion- 
 plates and advertisements ; and as soon as she had issued 
 her orders she resumed her devotion to those luxui-ies. 
 But the next instant she had changed her mind. 
 
 " Has that cat Bingham been turned out of the house ? " 
 she demanded, turning her vindictive gray eyes upon 
 Briseis. 
 
 " I believe she has gone for a walk in the Park, with 
 the others," was the placid reply. 
 
 " I did not ask you that — I asked you whether she had 
 been turned out of the house — yes or no ! " she said, with 
 considerable insolence. 
 
 " Now, Olga, be reasonable — do be reasonable ! " Briseis 
 pleaded. " Think what that would mean to your mother ; 
 for the others would most likely leave as well. And I'm 
 sm'e Miss Bingham did not mean any harm " 
 
 " I will not endure being insulted," she said, fiercely. 
 " I don't care whether they all leave or not — a blessed rid- 
 dance ! I will not be insulted by a cat like that ! — I will 
 not ! — I will not ! And here I remain until Miss Bingham 
 sends me a formal apology. And if she doesn't, very well, 
 then I shall be ill. I know it. It has happened before — 
 I shall be ill — and then what wiU they do ? " 
 
 " Come, come, now, Olga," her cousin said, in answer to 
 this threat, "be reasonable. And I am quite sure Miss 
 Bingham will say she is sorry she vexed you. There's 
 another thing I meant to tell you. I haven't had time 
 to open my trunk yet ; and all my few belongings are in 
 it ; among them some eml)roidcred silk kerchiefs that my 
 mother gave me when we were in Broussa — of the strangest 
 colours they are, and yet very beautiful — and I am sure 
 they would interest you — and you might choose one for 
 yourself if you wished. Will you come to my room and 
 look at them ? " 
 
 The coverlet was whisked aside in a moment ; and as 
 soon as IMiss Olga was on her feet, she undid the buttons 
 of her white dressing-gown, which forthwith dropped on 
 to the floor. It was now manifest that she had never 
 really gone to bed at all ; she had merely slipped this upper
 
 A GREEK SLAVE 83 
 
 garment over her ordinary costume, and hidden herself 
 beneath the coverlet. And it was in her ordinary costume 
 that the still impenitent Olga now followed her cousin to 
 her room. 
 
 That was but one of the many events of the day, so far 
 as Briseis was concerned ; but there was an abundance of 
 others ; the next of these being her endeavour to propitiate 
 the reluctant Miss Bingham. Thereafter, all through the 
 afternoon and evening, her time seemed to be continually 
 under requisition ; she was asked to do this and do that, 
 always as a favour ; until her final task turned out to be 
 going to Brenda Elliott's room and reading to that sulky 
 damsel until she fell asleep. 
 
 But at last she was enfranchised, a little after eleven 
 o'clock — she having arrived in London that morning at a 
 quarter to eight ; and then she got away to her own small 
 chamber, and went to bed happy (perhaps with some 
 occasional back-thoughts not quite so happy) ; for at least 
 she had tried to do her best — and that in a right cheerful 
 frame of mind. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 BY MOOR AND EILL. 
 
 It was early morning on the Twelfth of August — a golden 
 morning that spread abroad a soft and wistful radiance, so 
 that all the surrounding landscape seemed ethereal and 
 dreamlike : the deep, wide valley — the winding waters of 
 the Skean, here a flashing silver, yonder a pale turquoise — 
 away on the other side yellow-green slopes, with tiny white 
 dots telling of crofters' cottages — above these the purple 
 shoulders of the distant hills receding into the cloudless sky 
 — and then, still further away, towards the east, and south, 
 and west, rampart upon rampart of giant mountains, grown 
 almost visionary in the pellucid atmosphere — it was on this 
 still, placid, golden morning that the Prince of Monteveltro, 
 his host Lord Eoclaninster, Sir Hugh Cunyngham of the 
 Braes, and young Frank Gordon were strolling up and 
 down the terrace in front of Glen Skean Castle, each of 
 
 G 2
 
 84 B RISE IS 
 
 them smoking a cigarette. The Castle was a large gray 
 building, or rather pile of buildings, of quite modern date — 
 though the square towers, the machicolated walls, and 
 muUioned windows sufficiently revealed the origin of its 
 architecture ; it was picturesquely situated, on a high 
 plateau overlooking the broad and fertile strath ; while at 
 the back it was sheltered from the western storms by a belt 
 of dark green pines. There was not much sign of life 
 about, though occasionally the glimmer of a skirt crossed 
 the inner recesses of the hall. 
 
 Monseigneur appeared to be a trifle uneasy and im- 
 patient ; now and again he twisted the waxed ends of his 
 long and drooping moustache ; he kept glancing from time 
 to time towards the portico, where no carriage was as yet 
 visible. At length he threw away his cigarette. 
 
 " When do we go ? " he said, in excellent English. " Is 
 it not time to start ? " 
 
 " There's no hurry," said the tall, and handsome, and 
 lazy Rockminster, in his impassive way. " The wagonette 
 will be round shortly ; but the keepers and the dogs won't 
 be up at the moor yet awhile." 
 
 " It's the greatest possible mistake," said Sir Hugh — a 
 short, powerfully-built, clear-eyed, brisk-looking man, with 
 plenty of decision about his mouth — " the greatest possible 
 mistake to make too early a start on the Twelfth. The 
 birds should be allowed to have their breakfast comfortably, 
 and get settled down in the heather. Faith, they'll lie 
 close enough to-day ! Awful hard luck on the dogs. No 
 scent. It's going to be a regular scorcher 1 " 
 
 At this moment a rumble of wheels was heard, and the 
 next moment a wagonette, drawn by a pair of beautiful 
 Ijays, appeared at the end of the drive, and presently was 
 pulled up in front of the portico. There was a little 
 commotion — for the women folk of the party were now 
 coming out to the hall door ; and thus it was that Lord 
 Rockminster managed to get a side-word with young 
 Gordon of Grantly. 
 
 " Look here, Gordon," said he, so as not to be overheard, 
 " when we begin work, what do you say as to oiu* order of 
 march ? The Prince tells me he knows nothing, absolutely 
 nothing of grouse-shooting — never saw a grouse. Shall we
 
 BY MOOR AND RILL 85 
 
 put him in the middle, and you and Cunyngham on the 
 outside — to retrieve mistakes ? I sha'n't bother you much 
 — I don't care about it — I may as well be a middle- 
 man " 
 
 " Oh, but you needn't be afraid of my step-papa ! " 
 Frank Gordon said. " Not a bit I He's a rattling good 
 shot — a nailer 1 — when he knows what kind of thing he 
 has to expect. And that's what he doesn't know here ; 
 he'll want a friendly lead ; and if you don't mind, I'll look 
 after him. Of course he may be a little bit nervous at first. 
 His great ambition in this country is to do everything 
 correctly, as an ordinary English gentleman would. You 
 see, he is quite familiar with the silly burlesques of the 
 foreign sportsman in England that appear in plays and 
 comic magazines — idiots in Der Freiscliutz costumes, who 
 shoot sparrows with rifles ; and all that rubbish has made 
 him desperately anxious to be just like everybody else. 
 Look at his get-up now — how's that ? " 
 
 And indeed the Prince's attire was severely accurate, 
 from the deer-stalker's cap and belted Norfolk jacket to the 
 knickerbockers of homespun, the greenish stockings, the 
 brown gaiters, and nailed shoes. But by this time all the 
 ladies of the house had come out into the portico ; and a 
 very charming group they formed, in their costumes of 
 lightest material and brightest colour ; a kind of flower- 
 garden they seemed to be, on this shining summer morn. 
 Then one of them — a ruddy-haired young creature wearing 
 a pince-nez — as the sportsmen were getting into the 
 wagonette, stepped forward, and there was a propitiatory 
 smile on her pert and pretty features. 
 
 " Monseigneur," said she, holding up between thumb and 
 forefinger a small glittering coin, "you must take this 
 with you." 
 
 He could not refuse to accept the new sixpence ; but he 
 was somewhat bewildered. 
 
 " That's for good luck," Frank Gordon explained. " Put 
 it in your pocket, sir ; and you'll have all the best chances : 
 you'll have everything your own way." 
 
 But that was not in the least Miss Georgie Lestrange's 
 idea ; for she, blushing a little, passed round the wagon- 
 ette, giving to each of the others one of these brilliant
 
 86 BRISEIS 
 
 talismans ; then the coachman removed the brake, there 
 was a fluttering of handkerchiefs from the front of the 
 portico, and soon the wagonette had disappeared from 
 sight. 
 
 The route to the moor lay at first alongside the steep 
 banks of the river Skean ; and down through the hanging 
 birches and the tall bracken they got glimpses of the deep 
 gray chasms and the still brown pools — for there had been 
 a long drought, and the stream had dwindled away almost 
 to nothing. Here on board the wagonette there was not 
 much mh-th, or even talkativeness ; there was rather a sort 
 of subdued excitement ; even to an experienced sportsman 
 the morning of the Twelfth brings an unusual sensation ; 
 for one thing he cannot forecast whether he is going to 
 shoot well or ill. Then they left the densely-wooded valley, 
 and gradually ascended imtil they had reached a height 
 almost on a level with the distant Glen Skean Castle ; a 
 gate was opened, and they entered upon a rude track 
 apparently leading up into the mountains : they were now 
 within the outskirts of Con-iefruin deer-forest. 
 
 "A forest?" cried the Prince, with his eyes staring. 
 " Is that what you call in Scotland a forest ? " 
 
 It was a still and sombre scene — that vast extent of 
 bare and undulating moorland, seamed and scarred with 
 deep peat-hags half filled with stagnant water ; then far 
 away beyond this voiceless plain rose the almost precipitous 
 slopes of the lower hills ; and above these again the sterile 
 peaks of Aonach Mor (the Great Solitude), with a glimmer 
 of snow among the less-exposed crevices. Not a sound 
 came from this barren wilderness ; not a living creature 
 jQOved — for the deer, in the settled fine weather, had with- 
 di-awn to the seclusion of the higher valleys ; a brooding 
 solitariness seemed to have gained possession of this lonely 
 world, on which it seemed a kind of sacrilege to intrude. 
 Yet here was a fair summer morning : what would such a 
 place be like on a wild night of storm, with the winds 
 sweeping over the desolate waste, and the thunder rumbling 
 along the glens, and the shafts of splintered lightning 
 striking down from the crags of Aonach Mor, and startling 
 the black heavens and the black earth into a sudden and 
 liuid life ?
 
 BY MOOR AND RILL 87 
 
 And so they made their way into this silent domain — the 
 horses dragging laboriously — until, after two or three miles, 
 they arrived at a long, low building of wood and zinc that 
 had been erected as a temporary stables, and also for the 
 convenience of luncheon-parties ; and here the occupants of 
 the wagonette got down and proceeded on foot. They 
 had not gone very far, however, when it became evident 
 that the still air and the ever-increasing heat in this vast 
 hollow between the hills were beginning to tell on Mgr le 
 prince de ]\Ionteveltro ; perhaps fashionable life in Vienna 
 and Buda-Pesth had got the hardy mountaineer out of 
 proper condition ; at all events, when they at last did join 
 the picturesque group of keepers, gillies, ponies, and 
 panniers waiting for them by the side of the track, instead 
 of taking his gun from the youth who had been specially 
 told off to wait on him, the Prince sat down on a big stone, 
 and mopped his forehead, and brought forth his pocket- 
 flask. 
 
 " Get me some water," he said, panting, to young Angus. 
 
 The lad took the cup, and went down to the trickling 
 little burn, and brought back some water ; the Prince put a 
 dash of whiskey into it ; and he was just about to drink it 
 off, when • 
 
 When a most terrific explosion took place — and that 
 apparently quite close by the very stone on which he was 
 sitting: an indescribable kr-r-r-r! that might have shattered 
 the nerves of the Sphinx ; and the next moment a reddish- 
 brown object was seen to be darting away over the heather 
 with a swiftness as if all the fire-engines in the universe had 
 got compressed into its whirring wings. Frank Gordon had 
 been leisurely putting cartridges into his gun ; he had but 
 half a second in which to snap together barrels and stock 
 and take aim ; there was an echoing report ; and the gay 
 muir-cock, now a considerable distance off, came plumping 
 down. Very neatly done ; for it was a nasty cross-shot ; and, 
 moreover, he had been taken unawares. By this time 
 the Prince was on his feet again. 
 
 "Why," said he to the head-keeper, "that bird must 
 have been hiding there since ever you came 1 " 
 
 "Yes, monsenior," replied the taU, grave, respectful keeper, 
 " they whiles lie lU^e that. And maybe there's one or two
 
 88 BRTSEIS 
 
 more about. If you'll put cartridges into your gun, I'U 
 lowze the dogs." 
 
 So they formed into line there and then — young Gordon 
 on the extreme left, Sir Hugh on the extreme right, the 
 Prince and Lord Rockminster (the latter with his gun over 
 his shoulder) between ; the grave Malcolm uncoupled a 
 brace of extremely handsome setters, that joyously set to 
 work ; and the whole party moved warily forward. It 
 turned out, however, that the grouse which had so startled 
 the stranger-guest had been a kinless vagrant ; they de- 
 scended into the channel of the burn and up the opposite 
 side without finding anything ; and as the dogs were now 
 ranging freely, they stepped away with more confidence. 
 
 Then of a sudden one of the setters, that happened to be 
 right in front of the Prince, stopped short and rigid, with 
 eager nostrils and outstretched neck. 
 
 " Have a care, Wallace, have a care ! " muttered the 
 keeper to the other dog, that now also stopped, watching its 
 neighbour with half -frightened eyes, 
 
 Monseigucur glanced towards his step-son as if to ask 
 what he should do ; and the answer was a wave of the hand 
 telling him to follow the setter ; for the beautiful silken- 
 haired animal, trembling in every limb, was cautiously 
 drawing on. All the guns were now moving slowly 
 forward ; the keeper had stolen up to encourage the dog 
 by patting its neck ; and the profound silence was full of a 
 restrained expectancy. Then a wild rattle right in front — 
 a ball of feathered lightning had sprung from the ground 
 and was whizzing along — the Prince put up his gun quickly 
 and fired — and the grouse came tumbling on to the heather, 
 with a single rebound simply by reason of its own weight. 
 At the same moment another bird got up some distance off 
 and disappeared over the top of the knoll — and they could 
 hear the warning uk — ulc — idc! — come hade — come bacTc — 
 come hack ! that lie directed to his late companion. Nay, 
 they were to see him again ; for wliile Malcolm was picking 
 up the dead bird, which was a hen, the cock-bird, having 
 made an unseen detour, returned to the crest of the knoll, 
 and fluttered down among the hcatlicr, where only his 
 small head, with its bright eye and scarlet markings, was 
 visible. And now, if ever there was temptation to shoot a
 
 BY MOOR AND RILL 89 
 
 Bitting bird, it was on this occasion — if one could avoid 
 sympathising with the faithful spouse who had again faced 
 danger in order to see what had happened to his mate ; for 
 it was perfectly obvious that, the moment he was off again, 
 he would drop down behind the hillock and get clean away. 
 So once more Monseigneur turned with an inquiring glance 
 towards his step-son — who instantly warned him, by gesture 
 of head and hand, that no such thing was to be done ; while 
 almost simultaneously the grouse settled the matter in his 
 own fashion, for he simply dropped away from his exalted 
 position, and vanished. Perhaps they were all just as well 
 pleased that he had not fallen a victim to conjugal fidelity. 
 
 And so they shot their way along these lower slopes, 
 keeping well aside from the Forest ; and as they were now 
 on better ground, the fun waxed brisker and brisker. 
 Moreover, the birds lay very close ; sometimes the dogs ran 
 past them altogether ; and as it was impossible to say from 
 which mound or dip a bombshell of a covey might not 
 suddenly burst, scattering to every point, there was no lack 
 of watchful exhilaration. As for Monseigneur, he acquitted 
 himself admirably. Of course they did not expect him to 
 observe the niceties of the game ; they did not expect him, 
 when a covey hurtled itself into the air, to single out the 
 old cock ; they looked after that themselves as well as they 
 could ; and left him to his discretion. Kr — 'kr — lir! — went 
 the throbbing wings ; crack ! — crack ! — crack ! — went the 
 guns ; and as only smokeless powder was used, they could 
 easily see what execution was being done. The bag mounted 
 up apace, as the gillie with the pony and panniers came 
 along to pick up the spoil. 
 
 There was one drawback — nay, there were two ; and both 
 told desperately on the poor Prince, who was somewhat 
 corpulent. The first was the overwhelming heat, that 
 seemed to deprive one of the power of breathing ; the 
 second was a plague of midges, these demoniacal insects 
 alighting on any unguarded portion of wrist, or neck, or 
 forehead, and leaving a most vexatious wound, especially if 
 one happened to be of a stout habit of body. Monseigneur 
 suffered inconceivable torment. For even when they came 
 to a hollow down which trickled a small streamlet, and when 
 he would go to the burn-side to get some water (some
 
 90 BRISEIS 
 
 whiskey and water) to slake his overmastering thirst, then 
 in this sheltered place the midges would attack him more 
 venomously than ever, even creeping under the peak of his 
 cap and getting among the roots of his hair. He rubbed 
 his forehead hard with his handkerchief, and that only 
 produced more pain ; he drank more whiskey to still the 
 fever in his blood, and that appeared to create a kind of 
 delirium of despair ; his companions could hear him mutter- 
 ing, they knew not in what language ; until at last, from 
 the crest of a slope, there broke upon their sight a beatific 
 vision — a long and narrow table placed outside the stables, 
 and abundantly set forth with cold meats and cooUng drinks, 
 whUe something very like a pail of ice stood by. 
 
 " Thank God I " said the Prince of Monteveltro — and no 
 one could object to that pious ejaculation. 
 
 And here were the Ladies Sibyl and Eosamund Bourne 
 and ]\Iiss Georgie Lestrange, who had driven up in a landau 
 hired from the Skean Bridge Hotel ; and these three were 
 engaged in decorating, with such wild flowers as they could 
 find — milkwort, tormentil, grass of Parnassus, and the like 
 — the snowy cloth that concealed the rude construction of 
 the table ; while for a centre-piece they had got a dish of 
 freshly cut heather and sweetgale. 
 
 " Why, where's Addie ? " said Rockminster, speaking of 
 his sister. Lady Adela Cnnyngham. " And Honnor ? " he 
 asked again — speaking of his wife. 
 
 " Honnor," said Miss Georgie, who was the know-all of 
 the family, " is hurrying through her household affairs to 
 see if she can get an hour on the river, though everybody 
 maintains it isn't a bit o' good. And Adela is busy with 
 her proofs— those fearful proofs ! Why, she tells me they 
 keep her awake at night : she lies and recalls page after 
 page, dreading to think what she may have passed. I 
 declare it's too bad of the printers," continued the bewitch- 
 ing young damsel of the pince-nez, as she graciously accepted 
 a slice of galantine. " Do you know what they made her say 
 in her last book ? — her heroine had to die of an overdose 
 of opium, and they printed it opinion." 
 
 " A book might die of an overdose of opinion," observed 
 Lord Rockminster, in his dispassionate way, " but a heroine 
 couldn't very well, could she ? "
 
 BY MOOR AND RILL 91 
 
 "The worst printers' blunder I ever heard of," Miss 
 Georgina went on, in her demurest manner, " appeared in a 
 Plymouth paper. The report began : ' Last evening a 
 banquet was held on the body of a dead seaman that had 
 been found washed ashore at Prawle Point. The coroner, 
 in his opening remarks ' " 
 
 " Georgie, you're horrid — you are positively horrid," Lady 
 Rosamund broke in. 
 
 But at this moment Monseigneur jumped to his feet, 
 panting and gasping, and frantically rubbing forehead, and 
 ears, and neck. 
 
 " I can stand it no longer," he exclaimed. " These 
 brutes are perfectly maddening ! " 
 
 " They are pretty bad," said Rockminster, calmly, 
 
 " Here 1 " the Prince called recklessly to the footman 
 who was doing duty as butler. " Bring me a tumbler half 
 filled with whiskey — quick, if you please I — quick, quick I " 
 
 The glass was brought, and at once he dipped his table- 
 napkin into it, and began to sponge his face all over, until 
 he was fairly dripping with the fiery fluid. 
 
 "I don't think you'll find that of much use, sir," said 
 Frank Gordon to his step-father. "I've tried it myself. 
 They seem rather to like whiskey." 
 
 " But I have got something," put in Georgie Lestrange. 
 " I thought they might be plaguing us when we sat still." 
 And away she tripped to the landau, returning therefrom 
 with several layers of a fine silken gauze. " You must cut 
 off just what you want," she said, addressing the company 
 generally, " and tie it round your head, or fasten it on with 
 a hat. And mind you take plenty, and leave it loose, or 
 else the little fiends will bite through." 
 
 And thus it fell out that this luncheon was partaken 
 of by seven white-headed ghosts, and that not without diffi- 
 culty, for they had to be careful about raising their 
 silken veil. But very soon it appeared that Monseigneur 
 was impatient to get on again ; he seemed to have some 
 frenzied idea that in movement he might escape from 
 this insufferable cloud of persecutors, which, gauze or no 
 gauze, managed to sting him about the wrists and along 
 the junction of his cap and forehead ; so the men of the 
 party rose, and lit their cigarettes, and presently had
 
 92 BRISEIS 
 
 summoned the keepers and gillies, leaving the three young 
 ladies to dawdle over the fruit, and biscuits, and iced 
 claret-cup. 
 
 Now what happened on this afternoon will never be 
 accurately known ; a vague secrecy was maintained by 
 every one concerned ; but it is to be suspected that the 
 hapless Prince, completely overcome by the unendurable 
 torture inflicted by the midges — and also being entirely 
 ignorant of the strength of Highland whiskey — it is to be 
 surmised that he may have paused somewhat too frequently 
 by the side of the babbling little mountain rills, to seek a 
 desperate relief. At all events, when they did get back to 
 the Castle, and when, in his half-demented condition, he 
 had called his valet to him, he declared that nothing would 
 reduce the fever in his veins but an extremely hot bath ; 
 whereupon that was immediately prepared for him ; while 
 the other men went away to their own rooms, to change 
 and get ready for dinner. So that a considerable interval 
 occurred ; and it was not until about an hour thereafter 
 that Lord Rockminster, happening to come along by the 
 top of the hall staircase, encountered the Prince's valet, 
 who appeared to be agitated. 
 
 " My lord," said this pasty-faced person, with his eyes 
 starting out of his head, " I — I hope there's nothing wi'ong 
 — but — but the Prince has been in the bath-room for such 
 a long time — and I can't hear a sound — would your lord- 
 ship mind " 
 
 His lordship was a man of few words : he at once went 
 along to the end of the passage in which the Prince's 
 apartments were situated, and there he knocked at the bath- 
 room door. He thought he heard some mumbled sound in 
 reply ; but was not sure ; accordingly he knocked again. 
 This time there certainly was no answer ; so he tried to 
 prize the lock ; and these efforts failing, he was driven to 
 use his shoulder as a battering-ram ; and as he was of great 
 muscular strength and weight, the door eventually flew 
 open. It is a matter for devout thankfulness that on this 
 occasion he was not accompanied by the President of the 
 State Council of the Principality of Montcveltro and his 
 colleague the Minister for Foreign Affairs. For Mon- 
 seigneur lay supine in the bath, his head resting on the
 
 BY MOOR AND RILL 93 
 
 canvas belt at the upper end, each hand helplessly clutching 
 on to the enamelled zinc. 
 
 "Can't get out," he said, with a humorous smile. 
 "Sides of the bath too zlippery — very zlippery. Never 
 mind. Quite comf ble. No mizzjehs here. Quite comf'ble. 
 Sides of the bath aAvful zlippery " 
 
 Eockminster had recognised the situation at a glance. 
 
 " Oh, come along, Monseigneur, you must get ready for 
 dinner ! " he said — and he and the valet together managed 
 to hoist the luckless Prince out of the bath ; and they 
 clothed him in his dressing-gown, and conveyed him into 
 his bedroom, which fortunately was just next door. " Now 
 you lie down for a while," Rockminster said to him. 
 " And I wiU send you up some strong tea. You needn't 
 hurry — I will put dinner off till nine o'clock." 
 
 Strangely enough, some hour and a half thereafter, when 
 the house-party had assembled in the drawing-room, there 
 was no one more sedate, and calm, and outwardly self- 
 possessed than the Prince of Monteveltro. His forehead, 
 indeed, showed what merciless treatment had been dealt 
 him by the midges ; but neither in his manner nor in his 
 speech (except, perhaps, in a certain portentous and cautious 
 solemnity) was there any trace of the wild relief he had 
 sought for by the margin of the rippling burns ; and as he 
 took his hostess into dinner — Lady Rockminster was a 
 handsome and distinguished-looking young matron, with 
 chestnut-brown hair and clear hazel eyes — he comported 
 himself with an excellent dignity and gravity. Then they 
 all sat down. 
 
 All save two. For this dining-hall, quite modern as it 
 was, had been constructed and decorated in Elizabethan 
 fashion — oaken panels, tapestry, large mullioncd windows, 
 and so forth ; while at the further end, above the immense 
 fireplace, there was a small pillared gallery, in which were 
 visible a harp and two music-stands. And as the guests 
 below took their places, the Ladies Sibyl and Rosamund 
 Bourne came into the gallery, the former carrying her 
 violin ; and Lady Rosamund sat down at the harp ; and 
 presently these two began to play, very softly and grace- 
 fully, a cavatina of Lady Sibyl's own composition. 
 
 " Awfully good-natured of them, isn't it ? " said Georgie
 
 94 BRISEIS 
 
 Lestrange to her neighbour, young Gordon of Grantly. 
 "I call it a great compliment, don't you? I hope the 
 Prince will be pleased " 
 
 " Aren't they going to have any dinner ? " said the young 
 man, with tender compassion in his heart. 
 
 " Oh, they'll get something— or they've had something," 
 continued the ruddy-haired lass, with blithe indifference. 
 "That isn't the point. Sibyl is awfully proud of this 
 cavatina, don't you know, and she wants us to hear it 
 effectually. Eather nice, isn't it ? Sounds very well from 
 the gallery, doesn't it ? I think it's a beautiful room, don't 
 you ? And how handsome the Princess is looking to-night 
 — so commanding-looking, so capable-looking — and yet as 
 merry as any one : don't you think so ? Scotch eyes, 1 
 should say ; nothing foreign about her appearance at all. 
 I wonder what rent Lord Piockminster pays for the season ? 
 —a ripper, I should imagine. Oh, by-the-way. Sir Francis, 
 I suppose you've heard that Lady Roclaninster has arranged 
 a little dance for to-night— the keepers, and gillies, and 
 Highland maids — in the pavilion — just to give the Prince 
 some small idea of what happens when a stag is brought 
 home ; for I suppose the Prince and Princess won't be able 
 to stay until the stalking begins. And I have been 
 wondering," proceeded the wily maiden, in her artless way, 
 "whether any of us will be expected to join in— perhaps 
 for a single reel. I'm rather timorous about it, don't you 
 know — of course, I've often danced a reel, in a scrambling 
 kind of fashion; but I never feel safe unless I have a 
 partner who can pilot me through " 
 
 " Will you let me try ? " he said, promptly. 
 
 "Oh, I didn't mean that," she made answer, with a 
 pretty and ingenuous blush. "But we'll see what Lady 
 Eockminster has to propose." 
 
 The pavilion of which she had spoken was a large 
 temporary structure of wood and canvas that had been 
 erected in the grounds a year or two previously on the 
 occasion of the visit of certain members of the English 
 Eoyal Family, and had been allowed to remain ; and when 
 Lord and Lady Eockminstcr's guests, rising from dinner, 
 proceeded to thread their way through the dark shrubberies, 
 they found the great tent brilliantly lit up, and the entrance
 
 BY MOOR AND RILL 95 
 
 all hung round with festoons of heather. Nay, the meiry- 
 making had already begun ; supper was over, and the 
 tables had been cleared away ; Ronald the piper, in all his 
 kilted bravery, was up in front of the platform ; and the 
 lads and lasses were stepping out to the lively strains of 
 ' Lord Breadalbane's March.' But directly that Eonald 
 caught sight of the visitors he changed his tune ; the pipes 
 broke into a spirited reel ; almost instantly there was a 
 transformation of the nelaulous company into definite 
 groups ; then at a given signal away they went in swift and 
 gHding and sinuous movement, until the laughing partners 
 faced each other again, to do their best with pointed toe 
 and uplifted finger and thimib. All this gay turmoU — the 
 stirring music, the rapid evolutions, the joyous ' whoop ! ' 
 — was not long in throwing its irresistible seduction over 
 certain of the visitors ; a ' foursome ' was speedily formed 
 — Miss Lestrange and young Gordon of Grantly, Sir Hugh 
 Cunyngham and his sister-in-law, Lady Rosamund ; and off 
 they went — figures of eight, facing to partners, and round 
 again in nimble manoeuvres — as dexterously as any. And 
 Ronald the piper blew and trilled, and trilled and blew, and 
 trilled and screamed and blew, as though he would have all 
 Glen Loy, and Clunes, and Achnacarry know what doings 
 were going on in Glen Skean. 
 
 But of a sudden Lord Rockminster — who was merely a 
 spectator — became aware that the Prince was missing ; and 
 as he had not been able to keep an eye on him during 
 dinner — for the Princess of Monteveltro was a brilliant and 
 fascinating talker, and had kept her host's attention fully 
 occupied — he grew somewhat anxious. He looked about, 
 and moved about, discreetly ; and at length, to his amaze- 
 ment, he perceived the Prince, at the other end of the 
 pavilion, in a corner all by himself, engaged in executing a 
 series of the most extraordinary springs and gyrations, both 
 hands held high in air. For it appeared that he had found 
 a partner, and he was imitating as best he could the steps 
 and gestures he had observed in use among the general 
 assemblage ; and as this fancied partner happened to be 
 no other than his own shadow on the canvas wall, the most 
 beautiful time was kept, and Monseigneur, proud of his own 
 performance, and proud of the responsive accuracy of hia
 
 56 BRISEIS 
 
 visionary companion, beamed with a bland delight. Rock- 
 minster caught him by the arm. 
 
 " One moment," he said. " Sorry to interrupt. Awful 
 storm threatening. You'd better come away with me, and 
 we'll get back to the Castle while there's time." 
 
 The Prince of Monteveltro was a peaceable, good-natured 
 man ; he suffered himself to be led off, and fortunately 
 there was a door at this end of the pavilion ; while they 
 had no difficulty in finding their way back to the Castle, 
 for now there was a ghostly white moon shining from over 
 the crest of Ben-na-Van, and all the paths and terraces 
 were of a silver-gray. Hawkins, the pasty-faced valet, was 
 quickly summoned ; the Prince was easily persuaded to go 
 to bed, when once they had got him smuggled up into his 
 room ; and then Lord Rockminster left to return to the 
 pavilion. There was no great anger and reprobation in his 
 heart ; rather he had a kind of sympathetic pity for an 
 innocent and unsuspecting stranger, who had fallen a 
 victim to the sweltering heat of Highland glens, to the 
 relentless ferocity of Highland midges, and to the insidious 
 dangers of loitering by little Highland rills. 
 
 And yet in throwing out threats of a possible storm, 
 Rockminster had not been altogether romancing. When 
 the ladies had retired to their apartments for the night, 
 he strolled into the billiard-room, to smoke a final cigarette. 
 
 " I say, Gordon," he observed, in his laconic way, " have 
 you been looking at the glass since lunch-time ? Down a 
 good half-inch. And there's a double halo round the 
 moon. And the trees are beginning to talk. I rather 
 fancy something's going to happen." 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 "with hey, nonny, NONinr." 
 
 And something did happen. For towards midnight a wind 
 began to come up out of the west, moan lug across the 
 solitudes of the forest ; the trees around the Castle were 
 no longer talking among themselves, instead there was 
 an angry and ominous portent in the swaying branches ;
 
 " WITH HEY, NONNY, NONNY" 97 
 
 presently the first heavy drops came pattering on the 
 window-panes ; and then, after a wild and spectral glare 
 that lit up all the dark, the growl of the thunder went 
 booming along the hollow glens, followed by rain that 
 came down in sheets, and continued to do so, hour after 
 hour. Blissful tidings, no doubt, for the half-dozing 
 salmon-fisher ; for of all the rivers in Scotland none rises 
 more quickly than the Skean ; and so it was that he who 
 looked abroad on the next morning — on the tossing and 
 dripping branches of beech, and ash, and rowan, on the 
 stormy sunlight flooding the wide strath, and on the hills 
 grown a heavy purple under the surcharged skies — found 
 also that the stream was careering down in full spate, its 
 ruddy-indigo surface streaked here and there with threads 
 of foam. Everywhere motion, and vi^id colour, and rest- 
 less, incessant, fugitive life and change : the startled 
 curlews calling from the distant slopes, the peewits wheel- 
 ing and circling with sudden alterations of flight, the 
 swallows darting hither and thither over the oily eddies 
 of the pools. All the world was transformed, and full of 
 an eager activity ; all shining brilliantly, too, after this 
 new baptism. 
 
 And here was Miss Georgie Lestrange flying through the 
 house, from corridor to corridor, knocking at the rooms 
 she knew. 
 
 " Honnor ! Honnor 1 Haven't you heard ? The river 
 has risen two feet ; and Malcolm says you ought to get 
 down at once, before the spate becomes too heavy." 
 
 And again — at Lady Rosamund's chamber : 
 
 " Rose !— Rose ! Do you know what you are missing ? — 
 the most wild and beautiful pictures you ever beheld — chang- 
 ing from minute to minute — Landseers — Peter Grahams — ■ 
 Mac Whirters — on every hand. Come along ! — the clouds 
 are down almost to the foot of Aonach Mor, and Ben-na- 
 Van looks thirty miles away — you never saw such splendid 
 effects of sunlight and mist — get up, you lazy ! " 
 
 And again — at Lady Sibyl's room : 
 
 " Sib ! — Sib ! — it's monstrous you should be so late 1 
 Now is your chance for your storm-symphony, if ever there 
 was one — you should hear the river thundering down 
 through the rocks — and you should hear the fir-woods on 
 
 H
 
 98 BRISEIS 
 
 the hill. "Wake up out of your snoozling ! I declare if 
 only I had a broomstick I could go whirling across the 
 whole breadth of Inverness-shire in about five-and-twenty 
 seconds ! " 
 
 The next person she encountered somewhat moderated 
 her mad enthusiasm : it was young Gordon of Grantly, 
 who was on the terrace outside, engaged in fixing together 
 An eighteen-foot rod. Here in the early light he looked a 
 wholesome kind of a lad ; and the clear gray-blue of his 
 eye and the sun-tan of his fair complexion caught the open 
 glow of wind and weather, for he wore no overshadowing 
 cap on his head. 
 
 " Oh, Sir Francis," said she — after salutations — " of 
 course you're going down to the river. And are you taking 
 the Upper Beat, or the Lower Beat ? " 
 
 " The Upper, I believe," he answered her. " Malcolm 
 is waiting to go to the Lower Beat with Lady Rockminster. 
 I understand that is the arrangement." 
 
 " Then you will have that extraordinary old man with 
 you — what is his name ? " 
 
 " Tod — John Tod — and as ill-conditioned an old scoundrel 
 as ever came up from the south country to malign the gentle 
 Highland folk." Young Gordon could talk a little more 
 freely now, for he had taken the last of the bits of silk 
 thread from between his lips. 
 
 " Because," said Miss Georgie, in a very shy and ingenuous 
 way, " I have been quite anxious to see this side of the 
 river — the Upper Beat, I mean ; and I have never dared — 
 and for a very good reason. Do you know the forester's 
 cottage just beyond the burn ? Well, there's a bull there ; 
 and not more than three weeks ago he hunted a man up a 
 tree, and kept him there for over an hour. Of course I 
 daren't go near such a beast ; and he roams wild all about 
 the neighbourhood, so they say ; but if you and the old 
 fisherman are going up that way, and you would let me 
 walk with you until I was well past the cottage — then, you 
 see " 
 
 And naturally he pitied her soft embarrassment, and 
 hastened to assure her that he would be delighted if they 
 could be of any assistance whatever to her : only, what 
 time would she be ready to start ? "Whereupon the
 
 " WITH HEY, NONNY, NONNY" 99 
 
 young lady with the pert nose, and the pince-nez, and the 
 tangled golden-red hair blurted out a still more audacious 
 proposal. 
 
 " I've been trying to rouse this household up," said she, 
 " but it's no good at all. And it's past the proper breakfast 
 hour : what do you say — shall we go in and forage for our 
 two selves ? We are quite entitled to do it ; and Hallett is 
 a great pal 0' mine ; he'll look after us — you'll see." 
 
 So this impudent boy and girl went boldly into the 
 dining-room ; and rang for tea and boiled eggs ; and began 
 to cadge for themselves from off the sideboard. And mean- 
 while the fisherman, John Tod, had turned up in the 
 portico : an extraordinary-looking, black-a-vised, elderly 
 man, whose broad and stooping back, and long arms, and 
 short legs gave him something of the appearance of a 
 gigantic crustacean. He was muttering to himself, too, as 
 he began to overhaul the casting-lines, the reels, and 
 salmon-flies that Frank Gordon had left lying on the 
 table : it was clear that this Dee-side tackle did not 
 wholly commend itself to his professional mind. 
 
 And then, when all was ready, away through the wild, 
 wet world went these thi'ee ; with the sunlight showering 
 diamonds on the leaves of the birches, and the river roaring 
 down between the steep banks, and the far cloud-wreaths, 
 sweeping in from the Atlantic, intertwisting themselves 
 along the lower hUls, darkening here and lightening there, 
 and occasionally showing, through the higher mists, a pale 
 silver thread— a mountain-torrent sprung into existence 
 after the long night's rain. Miss Georgie was in the 
 happiest of spirits ; she had forgotten all about the bull ; 
 perhaps there was no bull ; at all events, when her com- 
 panions left the pathway and plunged into certain woodland 
 glades to make down for the stream, she unconcernedly 
 went with them, laughing and talking the while. These 
 glades, by-the-way, were not a bit like Scotland ; they 
 rather resembled the Forest of Arden, as it is presented 
 on the stage — wide-branching oaks, tall ferns, masses of 
 meadowsweet, and the like ; while as for the Rosalind 
 who walked by his side — ^but indeed she was too slight 
 and slim for the part — there was not much of the swash- 
 buckler about this light-hearted little Eosalind with the 
 
 H 2
 
 loo BRISEIS 
 
 ruddy hair. And now they were come to the nearest of 
 the swift-rushing pools. 
 
 Here Miss Lestrange contentedly sat herself down on a 
 big stone at the foot of an alder-tree, in placid expectation. 
 Nor had she long to wait for the performance to begin ; 
 for young Gordon — not wading very far in, because of the 
 height of the water — had only made one or two casts when, 
 just as he was about to recover his line, there was a ringing 
 whirr of the reel ; he stumbled backwards (nearly throw- 
 ing himself into the river) so as to preserve the strain ; and 
 Miss Georgie clapped her hands in delight. 
 
 " Well done ! " she called to him. " A thirty -pounder ? 
 I'll bet you, a thirty-pounder ! " 
 
 And in truth this invisible creature, so great was the 
 force of the current, did pull like a thirty-pounder ; but 
 that was only for a couple of seconds ; the next moment 
 there was a gleam of silver in the air— and a sea-trout of 
 little over a pound and a half had flashed into the sunlight, 
 and splashed again into the hurrying stream. The angler 
 turned to the young lady, and there was a rueful smile on 
 his face. 
 
 " How's that for a thirty -pounder ? " he called to her. 
 
 " Better than nothing ! " she replied, courageously. *' I 
 must have a bit of it for breakfast to-morrow." 
 
 The sea-trout got short shrift ; it was hauled in by 
 brute force, knocked on the head, and thrown contemptu- 
 ously on the shingle ; while in a minute or two the long 
 line was again going whistling out. But the body of water 
 in this pool was too great ; in vain he thrashed and better 
 thrashed — always with a careful eye towards the shallows ; 
 his assiduous labour met with no reward ; and at last he 
 reeled up, and returned to the pensive maiden at the foot 
 of the alder-tree. 
 
 " Oh, for rain ! " said she, looking at him imploringly as 
 he drew near. " Why doesn't it rain 1 Why doesn't it 
 pour a deluge ! " 
 
 " What do you want rain for ? " he demanded. 
 
 " To drown the midges ! Oh, they're dreadful 1 Rain, 
 rain I — come rain ! — come rain ! Just look at this." 
 
 And therewith and piteously she held out her two 
 wrists, where undoubtedly there were a number of tiny
 
 " WITH HEY, NONNY, NONNY^ loi 
 
 Bwellings between the delicate blue veins. Of course he 
 expressed his sorrow ; but what else could he do ? 
 
 "I've got a little bottle of eau-de-Cologne with me," 
 said Miss Georgina, rather timidly, " and if you wouldn't 
 mind taking my handkerchief, and soaking it, and trying 
 whether that would be of any use " 
 
 "Well, he was not accustomed to wait upon damsels in 
 distress ; but this seemed a simple matter ; and accordingly 
 he took her handkerchief, and steeped it, and tenderly and 
 softly bathed those grievous wounds. It did not occur to 
 him to reflect (1) that she might just as well have done this 
 for herself ; and (2) that if she had been looking forward 
 to midges — as the bottle of eau-de-Cologne appeared to 
 suggest — she might have adopted the precaution of putting 
 on a pair of gauntleted gloves. No matter : she expressed 
 herself as profoundly grateful ; and then they set out on 
 their travels again, this time in the direction of the Linne 
 nan Nighean,* where there might be a more practicable 
 chance. 
 
 And as they proceeded through this tangled wilderness — 
 the breckans breast-high, the dells of meadowsweet scenting 
 all the humid air — Miss Georgie was amusing him with her 
 gay and careless prattle ; nor did she pause for an instant 
 to receive answers to her artless questions. 
 
 " I do hope Honnor will get a fish — don't you ? She's 
 awfully nice — isn't she ? And there's a firmer vein of 
 character in her than in Lady Adela and her sisters ; you 
 wouldn't find Lady Eockminster paying court to all sorts of 
 nobodies in order to get paragraphs about herself put into 
 the weekly papers. It's a little undignified— don't you 
 think so ? But all the three sisters are just wild after 
 notoriety — there's nothing they wouldn't do to bring them- 
 selves before the public — they would take an engagement 
 at the Folies Bergere— to shoot glass balls — any mortal 
 thing. Mind, I'm saying this in strict confidence — you 
 understand ? I wouldn't say it to any one else ; of course 
 not. And at the same time, you know, in spite of that one 
 little wealmess, they are the very dearest people— so generous 
 —they would do anything for you ; besides, they are so 
 
 • Pronounced Leeny nan Nyean — the Maiden's Pool.
 
 I02 BRISEIS 
 
 bright, and clever, and perfectly accomplished — why can't 
 they be satisfied with themselves ? — without little newspaper 
 notices about their books, and their pictures, and their 
 music ? And I'm certain these caravanserai dinners — that's 
 what Sir Hugh calls them — ill-dressed women and ugly 
 men — are just as often thrown away as not. I am con- 
 vinced of it. Do you suppose Miss Penguin goes to Aivron 
 Lodge to help Lady Adela with her novels ? Not likely ! 
 She goes there for her own purposes — wants to get glimpses 
 of fashionable people, so that she may lash the whole tril^e 
 of them for their fearful iniquities. Poor old thing, I 
 suppose she's rather dotty on the crumpet " 
 
 " What ? " 
 
 " Slate off, don't you know ? Oh, by-the-way. Sir 
 Francis," continued this debonair lass, but somewhat more 
 demurely, " Miss Penguin has just sent me the new number 
 of the Ufimuzzled Magazine ; and the first article in it is 
 from her pen. Well, it is — yes, it is — precisely so " 
 
 " What do you mean ? " 
 
 " There's some plain talk," she observed. 
 
 " You must let me see it ! " 
 
 But at this she burst out laughing. 
 
 " Show such a thing to you. Sir Francis ? " she cried. 
 " To an innocent boy like you ? I couldn't accept the 
 responsibility ! Why, do you know the title of her essay ? 
 — ' On the Radical Incompatibility of the Sexes.' And 
 do you know how it begins ? — ' Let the reader imagine for 
 a moment what Eve must privately have thought about 
 Adam '■ " 
 
 " Oh, that's nothing," said he, lightly. " I can imagine, 
 too, that Adam had his own little opinions about Eve, when 
 he was smoking his pipe in a quiet corner " 
 
 " Ye'll begin jist here, sir," said John Tod, in a fine, 
 broad. Lowland accent ; and with that the colloquy ended. 
 
 They were now at the top of the Liune nan Nighean — a 
 long, wide, deep pool formed by the junction of the rivers 
 Skean and Rua. And indeed it was an extremely picturesque 
 scene that Miss Georgie found before her — after she had, 
 so to speak, evaded the bull ; for the Rua was roaring and 
 racing over its shallows of yellow-red gravel ; the darker 
 Skean went headlong by, tossing tawny wavelets here and
 
 «' WITH HEY, NONNY, NONNY" 103 
 
 there ; the enormously tall larches on the opposite bank 
 swayed in the varying gusts ; while now and again a burst 
 of sunlight broke over the brilliant green pastures. But 
 Miss Georgie, when she had called aloud for the rain to 
 come and destroy the midges (which it cannot do) had not 
 counted on her prayer being so speedily answered ; and she 
 had not observed that in the wild mist-land heavy masses 
 were trooping up from the Atlantic, each with a wine-stain 
 of shadow underneath it as it stole along the darkening 
 hills. And then this darkness increased ; there was no 
 longer anything of azure or indigo in the further reaches 
 of the river ; the gloom deepened and deepened ; until all 
 at once the storm burst — in torrents of rain that thrashed 
 the surface of the stream into a white smoke, and that even 
 drowned the rush and roar of the Rua channels. Miss Le- 
 strange fled and took shelter under some thick alder-trees ; 
 and, after a brief space, young Gordon, unable to withstand 
 this whelming downpour, laid his fishing-rod on the bank, 
 and made for the same cover. 
 
 " Why have you no water-proof ? " she demanded, in 
 panting and breathless and reproachful tones. 
 
 " Because I can't be bothered with it," he answered her, 
 " It makes casting too hot work. Why haven't you one ? " 
 
 " Oh, this cape will keep out anything." 
 
 They were silent for a minute or so — while the wind 
 howled, and the rain tore the river into a silver-gray spin- 
 drift. At length Miss Lestrange said, in a most pathetic 
 way— 
 
 " I shouldn't mind — I really shouldn't mind — if it didn't 
 trickle down my neck." 
 
 He turned to her. 
 
 " Why don't you put up the collar of your cape, then ? " 
 
 " Because my back hair is all wet, and if I put up my 
 collar, it would only be more miserable." And then she 
 said — oh ! so sweetly, and shyly, and prettily : "Sir 
 Francis, I am quite ashamed to trouble you again — but 
 would you be so very kind — so awfully kind — as to take my 
 handkerchief, and see if you could dry my hair a little, and 
 then perhaps I could put up my collar ? I can't get at it 
 very well myself — would you be so awfully kind ? — here is 
 my handkerchief ■"
 
 I04 BHISEIS 
 
 " But it is soaking wet, with the eau-de-Cologne," said 
 he, " whereas I happen to have two with me, both perfectly 
 dry. And if you don't mind my making the attempt " 
 
 Nevertheless this new service she had required of him 
 was a very different matter from merely sponging a few 
 midge-bites, lit was with something more than timidity 
 that he approached the unwonted task ; when he had to 
 fold back an inch or two of the cape, and when he could 
 not choose but notice the beautiful pure whiteness of her 
 neck, and the pretty waifs and wisps of the dishevelled 
 ruddy-golden hair that clustered around it, a kind of 
 sensation of awe and fear came over him ; nay, it was liter- 
 ally with half -averted eyes that he proceeded to do what he 
 could, while she kept murmuring — "So sorry to trouble 
 you — awfully good of you — I'm ever so much more comfort- 
 able already." And then, when he had in a manner finished, 
 he folded a dry handkerchief into a band, and put that 
 round her neck, and raised the collar, and asked her to 
 fasten it in front, so that at length she was quite secure and 
 warm and happy. By this time the sudden storm was 
 perceptibly lessening ; the clouds were lifting, and there 
 was a gleam of silver here and there, though nothing of 
 bhie had come back to the river ; presently the pasture- 
 lands on the other side of the stream shone out with a vivid 
 and golden radiance : it was time for him to be back at his 
 work. And perhaps — though the Gordons are not supposed 
 to be deficient in courage — he may have felt a certain subtle 
 relief in being once more on the bank, with the long line 
 whistling out. There are experiences — a thrilling, in- 
 advertent touch or two, for example — which are bewildering, 
 and even alarming, to a modest youth. 
 
 AVhat happened next was this : iliss Georgie had wandered 
 on a few yards to have a word with the black-a-vised and 
 round-shouldered gillie when all at once she saw Frank 
 Gordon stagger back in a wild endeavour to keep his line 
 taut, while he was reeling in in a frantic manner, the mere 
 haste and desperation causing an occasional bungle. For 
 the fact is, the fish he had hooked had run directly towards 
 him ; and for a flurried second or two there was extreme 
 danger ; but rapid manipulation — or perhaps a change in 
 the salmon's tactics — soon restored the safety-giving curve
 
 ''WITH HEY, NONNY, NONNY'' loj 
 
 to the top of the rod : they could all of them breathe again, 
 for the moment at least. 
 
 " And — and what is it, John ? " she said, almost in a 
 whisper — and with her eyes intent. " A salmon ? " 
 
 "Weel, I didna get glint or glimmer," said John, com- 
 posedly, " though I jalouse it's but a bit sea-trout, being 
 so near the bank. Ay, and where is he off for now ? — 
 what ails the crayture ? — fegs, he'll find oot what a Skean 
 spate is like, if he makes for the middle." But as John 
 stared and stared, he became more interested, and even 
 excited. " Losh bless me, d'ye see yon ? That's nae sea- 
 trout — that's a fish ! — ay, and a heavy fish — d'ye see'm 
 makkin steady across, and him wi' the whole wecht o' the 
 Skean on 'm ! Ay, and borin up a' the time — borin — 
 borin — the dour rascal that he is— dod, if he keeps on that 
 gait, a' the tackle in Scotland winna haud him " 
 
 And now a startling thing befell. Her eyes had been 
 fixedly watching that thin gray thread of a line as it slowly 
 cut its way through the swinging torrent ; but it was 
 fifteen or twenty yards higher up stream that a huge fish — 
 looking about as big as a pig — threw himself out of the 
 water, and fell again with a mighty souse. 
 
 " Oh, John, is he off 1 " she exclaimed in heart-broken 
 accents, 
 
 " No, no, he's no off," replied John, " but soon he will 
 be. Eh, my, my, a fine fish — a grand fish ! — five-and- 
 thirty pounds, I'm thinking — a fine fish — and nae chance 
 wi' him ava " 
 
 " But why no chance ? " she demanded, in almost feverish 
 agitation. " There must be a chance 1 I tell you. Sir 
 Francis must get that salmon — he must get him — oh, he 
 must get that splendid salmon — or — or I declare I shall cry 
 with vexation " 
 
 " Ye needna fash," said John, in a more resigned way — 
 the resignation of despair. " Sir Francis is doin' his best, 
 but it's no a bit o' use. There's thirty yards o' a bagging 
 line ahint that fish, wi' a' the wecht o' the watter on it ; 
 and there's forty yards oot forbye ; and how is onybody to 
 pit a strain on 'm ? It's the spate that's pitten the strain 
 on — and it's the spate that '11 — ay, I thocht sae " 
 
 At first she did not understand what had taken place,
 
 io6 BRISEIS 
 
 for the loug and heavy line, held by the current, had not 
 released the top of the rod ; but the next moment she 
 perceived that the angler was quietly reeling up. She ran 
 to him. 
 
 " Oh, Sir Francis, is he gone ? " 
 
 " He's gone, and no mistake," was the sufficiently cheer- 
 ful reply. " I had little hopes of him, so long as he kept 
 away to the other side, and would go boring up stream. I 
 had no control over him " 
 
 " It is enough to make one cry with disappointment ! " 
 she exclaimed, almost stamping the ground. 
 
 " Oh, you get used to these things in salmon-fishing," he 
 said, placidly. " And now we'll move on and see if there's 
 any better luck waiting for us at the Mill-dam ; or perhaps 
 we might go right up to the Priest's Bridge Pool, for it's a 
 pretty place to have luncheon " 
 
 " Oh, luncheon ? " said she, rather drawing back. " I 
 was quite forgetting. I shall have to go away home 
 now " 
 
 " You can't." 
 
 " Why not ? " 
 
 " Because of the bull." 
 
 "Oh, well " She hesitated — and it was a winning 
 
 kind of hesitation. " If you could spare me a biscuit — just 
 one biscuit," she said, with a most becoming bashfulncss. 
 
 " But your luncheon is in the bag ! " he informed her. 
 " I made sure you would come up the river with us, if there 
 was any amusement going on — not that there's much ; and 
 I told Hallett ; and I myself saw the packets put in " 
 
 " Oh, then, if I may 1 " said she, promptly and blithely — 
 and there was no more talk of a return to the Castle during 
 the remainder of this day's excursion. 
 
 The Priest's Bridge Pool — which they arrived at after a 
 devious meandering by ferny glades and through copses of 
 oak and hazel — lies in a long and deep hollow ; and here 
 the waters of the Skcan, having come dashing, and boiling, 
 and foaming through the narrow and rocky chasms above, 
 collect themselves, and (in ordinary seasons) begin to 
 moderate their headlong pace. The banks are lofty and 
 steep ; that on the north covered with heather and short 
 birch bushes ; that on the south with hanging woods th?t
 
 " WITH HEY, NONNY, NONNY'' 107 
 
 descend almost to the river's edge. And here, on the 
 trunk of a felled tree, young Gordon discovered a com- 
 fortable seat for his fair companion, while he proceeded to 
 help John Tod to get out the contents of the luncheon-bag. 
 This done, John withdrew to a little dingle hard by, where 
 unseen he could hastily get through with his mid-day meal, 
 the sooner to reach the far more important solace of a 
 smoke. 
 
 And thus it was that these two young people, seated side 
 by side on the trunk of the felled ash, found themselves 
 practically alone in this strange and solitary world— alone 
 with the wet and silent woods, the surging and swinging 
 river, the steep banks of heather and green birch burning 
 in the sunlight, the silvery cloud-phantoms of the sky, and 
 the mysterious distances of unnamed hills. And it may 
 have been some sense of this isolation and remote seclusion 
 that made Miss Georgie begin to talk of the crowded 
 gaieties of the Ijondon season now left so far behind. 
 
 " Just to think," said she — as she briskly munched her 
 sandwich of salmon-and-lettuce-leaf, and daintily sipped her 
 claret and water — " just to think that it is only a matter 
 of weeks since you and I were in the big whirl — and meet- 
 ing very often too — I don't know how it happened we 
 were always coming together — at dances, dinners, theatres, 
 garden-parties — the Academy Soiree, the Grosvenor Club — 
 up at Lord's, too — and several times in the Park, and once 
 or twice at the Zoo — why, we were meeting everywhere : it 
 almost looked like a fate, didn't it ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes," he added, inadvertently — for a fish had shown 
 itself at the end of the pool. 
 
 " Ill-natured people," continued Miss Georgie, with her 
 eyes downcast, " might have said there was more contrivance 
 than accident in it — mightn't they ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes," he answered her — still watching for the fish. 
 
 " I wonder if you recollect that night at Lady Colts- 
 borough's, when Cardinal Pepys took Madame Varitza in to 
 dinner ? I've never seen such a tall combination of colour 
 ,it any table — the Cardinal's gorgeous scarlet robes and 
 "JIadarae Varitza's white satin dress embroidered vrith silver, 
 and her jet-black hair — rather a startling combination, 
 wasn't it ? "
 
 io8 B RISE IS 
 
 " Oh, yes ; oh, certainly," he replied ; and then he got 
 quickly to his feet. " You won't mind," he said, "if I go 
 along and put a fly over a fish I have seen gambolling 
 about down there ? You keep on with your lunch — I shall 
 be back in a few minutes." 
 
 Now if ]\Iiss Georgie was at all inclined to be vexed and 
 cross over his desertion of her, she soon had her revenge. 
 For young Gordon, beginning well up, and working down 
 to the fish, was wholly absorbed in his occupation ; and the 
 nearer and nearer he got to the spot where he had seen the 
 salmon leap, the more and more careful and concentrated 
 he became ; so that what now occurred could hardly have 
 been guarded against. For he had just made a good long 
 cast, and was allowing the fly to come quietly across the 
 water, when out of the smooth-rolling flood there suddenly 
 and silently arose an awful and terrifying object that had 
 been hitherto quite invisible. It was a branch of an oak- 
 tree sweeping down with the current ; and the moment 
 that Gordon saw this hideous thing going right on to his 
 line, he made a violent effort to jerk the fly into the air. 
 But in vain. He was fast. Then he tried another sharp 
 tug, to see if the leaf or leaves would not come away : they 
 would not. Then he attempted to haul by main force that 
 brutal branch in to the side ; this also was clearly hopeless, 
 by reason of the strength of the stream. Nay, there was 
 nothing for him but to run madly along the bank, reeling 
 in a yard or two when he had the opportunity, while he 
 kept yelling — 
 
 " John ! — John I — where the devil are you ! — bring the 
 gaff, man I " 
 
 Indeed it was Miss Georgie herself who had to rout John 
 out of his secret shelter ; and then he, too, set off in 
 pursuit, with his unwieldy, crablike movements ; but eventu- 
 ally they did get hold of that maleficent branch, and man- 
 aged to drag it ashore, and release the fly, without much 
 harm being done. Then Frank Gordon came slowly back 
 to his companion, 
 
 " Nothing but mishaps to-day," he said. " This pool's 
 spoiled, at any rate ; so we may as well go down to the 
 Mill-dam now." 
 
 '• Ob, do you think I have brought you bad lack ? " asked
 
 "WITH HEY, NONNY, NONNY"" 109 
 
 Miss Georgie, with the air of an erring and repentant 
 child. 
 
 " You ? " he made answer. " I should think not I 
 Besides, what does it matter ? There are other things 
 than salmon-fishing — and the whole of this morning has 
 been dehghtful 1 " 
 
 " It's rather nice of you to say so," remarked this demure 
 maiden, as she moved aside to let John pack up. " I 
 thought you cared for nothing but fishing and flies." 
 
 At a somewhat late hour that afternoon the Prince and 
 Princess, the Rockminsters, and Sir Hugh were all of them 
 seated out on the terrace, having tea — Lady Adela and her 
 sisters had doubtless been detained in-doors by their earnest 
 devotion to literature and the arts. This side of the Castle, 
 facing east, was now in cool, clear, silver-gray shadow ; but 
 beyond the plateau and the policies all the wide valley was 
 filled with a warm and mellow radiance ; for away in the 
 west — over Loch Eil, and Morven, and Arisaig — the heavens 
 had entirely opened, and the golden-white light was stream- 
 ing across the hills by Glen Loy and Chines, and even 
 touching here and there a shoulder or peak of the lofty 
 Aonach ]\l6r. And it was amid these pleasant surroundings 
 — and with the grateful hush of the evening not far distant 
 — that the Princess was entertaining her friends with an 
 account of the celebrated dinner at which the young King 
 Alexander of Servia, then a boy of seventeen, tricked his 
 grave and elderly Ministers and threw off the yoke of the 
 Regency. Of course she must have had the main story at 
 second-hand ; but she was able to embellish it with many 
 particulars derived from personal knowledge ; and a very 
 amusing tale it turned out to be — how the unsuspecting 
 Regents and Ministers sat down to dinner ; how, while they 
 were at the soup, their houses were occupied by soldiers ; how, 
 midway through the banquet, guards were placed outside ; 
 and how, as dessert was about to be served, the youthful 
 Alexander rose and announced to his guests that he rather 
 wanted to be King on his own account now, and that he 
 would be much obliged if the Regents would forthwith 
 resign. Then consternation — refusal— the doors thrown 
 wide, and the officers and soldiery calling " Long live the
 
 no SRTSEIS 
 
 King 1 " while the point to be considered by the Regents 
 and Ministers was whether they should rush out into the 
 corridor to meet an almost certain death, or whether they 
 should sit quietly down and go on with their fruit, and 
 cigarettes, and coffee and cognac. The Princess was making 
 maliciously merry over this legend when of a sudden the 
 expression of her face slightly changed. 
 
 For beyond the carriage-drive there was an extended 
 avenue of ash and rowan ; and as this part of the roadway 
 was out in the open it was barred across by bands of 
 alternate sun and shade. And into this picturesque setting 
 came two figures, followed by a third ; the two leading 
 figures — a tall and handsome young fellow, and a laughing- 
 eyed lass — looking rather well in the glow of light. 
 
 " Lady Rockminster," said the Princess, with something 
 of a calm air, " has Miss Lestrange been away all day with 
 Frank ? " 
 
 " I suppose so," was the answer, "for I saw them start in 
 the morning. And she has had distinctly the best of it." 
 
 " In what way ? " 
 
 " Well, he can have had but little fishing, the river being 
 so high ; while she has had a fine picnic excursion." 
 
 At this moment the two young people came up ; and Miss 
 Georgie was easily persuaded to take a seat at the tea-table ; 
 while her companion had to give a report of the persistent 
 ill-luck of the day. Then he left, to get his brogues and 
 waders hauled off ; and as he was going, his mother called 
 to him — 
 
 " Frank, I see there's a letter waiting for you from 
 Grantly. If Aunt Jean has anything to say that concerns 
 me, don't forget to let me know." 
 
 Aunt Jean, however, had but little news to send from 
 Dee-side. What held his prolonged attention most was the 
 postscript — 
 
 " P.S. No, I have never heard of the old botanist and 
 that beautiful Greek girl you have asked about once or twice. 
 Of course I assumed that I should meet them again ; for 
 you said they were going to ramble about the neighbourhood 
 for some time ; but they seem to have disappeared alto- 
 gether, leaving no trace behind. I am sorry — I was m- 
 terested in both of them. — J. G."
 
 FROM MORN TILL EVE ill 
 
 CHAPTEE X. 
 
 FEOM MOEN TILL EVE. 
 
 Olga Elliott flounced up from the piano, and went and 
 threw herself on to an adjacent couch. 
 
 " Bother that trash ! " she said, impatiently. " Brilliancy 
 — delicacy of touch — expression : rubbish 1 I can't play ; 
 and I never shall be able to play ; and I don't want to be 
 able to play. You sit down yourself, Bry, and bang ; 
 hammer as badly as you can manage — and Ma '11 think it's 
 me. Oh, I suppose you consider it's my duty. It's my duty 
 to practise so many hours a day — and read ' Paradise Lost ' 
 — and darn my own stockings — and twenty dozen other 
 things. But I know what all these duties are ; they're 
 simply a lot of ridiculous nonsense invented by the elderly 
 people to keep the younger people within strict bounds. 
 And I'm not going to be kept within strict bounds ; I must 
 have my freedom ; I mean to have my whack, if I can get 
 it. Sounds selfish ? — but it's honest. You've got to fight 
 for your own hand in this wicked world. It's all very well 
 to say, ' Do unto others as you would that others should do 
 unto you ' ; that's all very fine ; but I want to see the 
 others begin. They don't appear to be in a hurry, do they ? 
 Now, Bry, I wish you'd sit down and bash away at the 
 piano — or else Ma '11 be here," 
 
 She had hardly uttered the words when the door was 
 opened ; and Mrs. Alexander Elliott, finding Briseis stand- 
 ing irresolute by the piano, while Olga lay supine on the 
 couch, looked reproachfully from one to the other. 
 
 " Really, Briseis," said she, " on a day like this — when 
 every minute is of value " 
 
 But the poor, tried widow with the careworn face and 
 sad eyes was no termagant, notwithstanding her thin and 
 resolute mouth ; besides, she was much too dependent on 
 the alacrity and good-will of her niece to risk giving offence. 
 So she altered her tone. 
 
 " I wish you would come down to the school-room, 
 Briseis, dear, and help me with Olga's and Brenda's dresses 
 that they are going to wear at dinner to-night. When Mr.
 
 113 BRISK IS 
 
 and Mrs. Bingham come here this evening, I hope they will 
 see that everything is done properly in the house. And you 
 have such taste, Briseis, dear — such natural good taste — 
 and you are so clever with your needle — and familiar with 
 the best styles, in different countries — it will be so easy for 
 you to plan out a few little alterations that will bring the 
 dresses up to the present fashion. There's not much time, 
 to be sure — it was so inconsiderate of Mrs. Bingham to give 
 
 us such short notice " 
 
 The clock on the chimney-piece struck a silver chime : 
 the alabaster cherub, swinging in his golden swing, had 
 arrived at the hour of half-past-ten. She glanced at the 
 dial. 
 
 " But I must first go and take Brenda's temperature " 
 
 " Mayn't I do that for you, Aunt Clara ? " said Briseis, 
 promptly. 
 
 " If you would — if you would 1 " said the much-harassed 
 mother, and she handed over the little glass instrument to 
 Briseis, who thereupon left the room. And then Mrs. 
 Elliott went to her daughter, and patted the dull flaxen 
 hair. 
 
 " I hope my pretty Olga isn't going to be ill too," she 
 said, in caressing tones. 
 
 " Oh, no. Ma, dear," replied the pasty-faced young lady, 
 with great suavity. " I had only one helping of toasted 
 cheese at the end of dinner last night. But Brenda had 
 two ; and then she went to sleep, as usual ; and only woke 
 up in time to ring for her glass of port wine and biscuit ; 
 and then she went to bed — and I wonder her temperature 
 this morning isn't 110." 
 
 " At six o'clock it was 100.2," said the mother, half 
 absently. " And that's not very high. If there are any 
 signs of a decrease, then we needn't send for Dr. Thomas- 
 doctors' visits do mount up so 1 " She turned again to the 
 procumbent damsel. " So you are resting, dearest, to pre- 
 pare yourself for the bustle of the evening ? " she said, 
 affectionately. " Quite right— quite right. For my two 
 bonny darlings must be at their very best and brightest 
 to-night, to show the Binghams what happy companionship 
 their daughter enjoys. And I shouldn't wonder if they 
 asked us all to dine with them at the Langham "
 
 FROM MORN TILL EVE 113 
 
 Miss Olga jumped up from her prostrate position — her 
 gray-green eyes staring wide. 
 
 " Oh, would they ? Are they likely to ? " she exclaimed, 
 eagerly. 
 
 " It is at least probable," said the mother. " But 
 lie down again, dear one, if you are really tired ; and 
 send Briseis to me the moment she comes back with the 
 report." 
 
 So in a little while thereafter Briseis found herself, in the 
 so-called school-room, busily occupied in snipping, altering, 
 and stitching at her cousins' dinner-gowns ; and very well 
 content was she with the solitary task — solitary, because her 
 aunt had almost immediately been summoned away by other 
 domestic duties. Moreover, she knew she had a free hand 
 in these embellishments. The two sisters were not likely 
 to complain, whatever she did. They had formed a dim 
 idea that she was endowed with a certain distinction and 
 refinement ; she had seen far cities and stately ceremonies ; 
 nay, had she not in her possession, at this very moment, 
 what was the very summit of their souls' desires — a fancy 
 dress ? Again and again they had begged her to show 
 them once more this wonderful treasure — though it was 
 only the festival costimae of a Greek peasant girl ; and with 
 longing eyes they had regarded the pale blue Albanian 
 jacket and its elaborate silver embroidery, the head-gear of 
 rows of pendulous coins, the silken veil showing tremulous 
 threads of gold through the diaphanous texture, with girdle, 
 bracelets, and necklace all complete. "W^hen they went out 
 shopping together, her cousins would, if somewhat reluc- 
 tantly and sulkily, defer to her taste. Not unfrequently 
 they would ask her to choose for them ribbons, neckerchiefs, 
 gloves, and what not — especially as she had a common trick 
 of paying for such trifles, out of her slender pocket-money. 
 And they were not likely to take mubrage at auy of the 
 alterations she was now making : they would be satisfied to 
 be spared the trouble. 
 
 At noon there came a slight tap at the door. 
 
 " Master Adalbert is ready. Miss," said the maid, who 
 immediately hurried on. 
 
 She weut to the dour, and found her boy-cousin in the 
 hall
 
 114 BRISEIS 
 
 " I'm afraid we can't go out to-day, Adalbert," said she, 
 " every one is so busy " 
 
 " But look at this, Briseis — ^look — look 1 " he cried ; and 
 he was regarding with an intense curiosity a fine assortment 
 of golf-clubs, all burnished and shining, that lay on the 
 hall table, the shafts strapped up in the brown canvas bag. 
 " I suppose they're Edward's," he added, wistfully. 
 
 " Oh, no, they're not," she answered him, in her gentle 
 fashion. " They're yom'S." 
 
 " Why, what do you mean, Briseis ? " 
 
 " They're a little birthday present I got for you," 
 she explained, " only I did not expect them to be sent 
 home so soon. You may as well have them now as to- 
 morrow." 
 
 He was an extremely sensitive lad. He could not speak. 
 It was a brief twitching of the muscles of his face that told 
 how hard he was trying to keep the water from welling into 
 his eyes. And then, mastering himself, he pretended not 
 to be overwhelmed by her kindness ; he pretended to be 
 wholly engrossed and delighted with the clubs. 
 
 " Look, Briseis," he said, as he undid the strap, and drew 
 one after the other out, " aren't they splendidly made ! 
 Did you ever see such finish ? This is the driver, you 
 know — he's the fellow to send the ball whizzing ! — one, two, 
 three, fom*, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, you count, and 
 then it drops — clean away over all the dangers. And this 
 is the cleek — and tliis is the iron niblick — that's the one if 
 you're in a fearful bunker ! — and this is the brassey — and 
 this is the putter " 
 
 But at this point Mrs. Elliott, bustling through the 
 house on her manifold errands, made her appearance ; and 
 when the whole situation was explained to her, she thought 
 that Briseis might after all take her cousin out for a turn 
 in the Park, if only for half an hour ; so, in a few minutes, 
 these two set forth together, the tall, slim, beautiful Greek 
 girl pushing the invalid-chair as usual. And while as yet 
 they were amid the noise of the streets, he was silent ; but 
 wlien tlioy bad crossed the Marylebone Road, aud passed 
 through York Gate, and entered into the quietude of the 
 Park, lie 5-aid — 
 
 " Briseis, I never thanked you fur the clubs."
 
 FROM MORN TILL EVE 115 
 
 " Why should you ? " 
 
 " I wanted to tell you something," he went on, " You 
 are so different from any one else. You seem to know 
 what other people are thinking ; and you take the trouble 
 to find out ; and you think along with them. And that's 
 why you bought me the goK clubs. It was to keep me 
 imagining that some day I might be a golfer." 
 
 Now it was quite true that she had a profound sympathy 
 with the pathetic enthusiasms of this poor lame lad — about 
 golf, cricket, football, and all manner of athletic exercises ; 
 but she was not going to allow him — even at this moment of 
 confession and almost of appeal — to assiune that there could 
 be anything fictitious or hopeless about his passionate 
 interest in such-affairs, 
 
 " And what better can there be than imagining ? " she- 
 said, boldly. " Look at me. I can't play cricket. I can't 
 play football. I have never even seen a game at goK,. 
 And do you think it probable I shall ever pull in a college 
 boat at Henley ? But all the same, merely through reading 
 the accounts to you, I have become as deeply interested in 
 them as any one — as even you yourself ; I know the names 
 of all your heroes ; and I follow the doings of the various- 
 teams — why, I can almost understand a game at football 
 now — from the report, I mean " 
 
 " It's a shame I should ask you to read for me, Briseis," 
 said he. " But this is how it is. If I read for myself, ] 
 see little except the newspaper ; but when you read for me, 
 I can make up the picture before my eyes " 
 
 " Very well, then," said she, " and who objects to my 
 reading to you ? And do you think I don't like to hear of 
 brilliant achievements — and all the people at Lord's clapping 
 their hands at a good catch " 
 
 " But I wanted you to know, Briseis," said he, still un- 
 satisfied, " that I quite understand what you were thinking 
 of when you bought me the goK-clubs " 
 
 " And you will hang them up on the back of your bed- 
 room door," said she, cheerfully. " And every morning, 
 when you awake, you will wonder whether Mr, Ball, oi- 
 Mr, Horace Hutchinson, or Willie Park is likely to be out 
 on the liuks, and what kind of weather he is going tt" 
 have." 
 
 I 2
 
 Ii6 B RISE IS 
 
 These brief excursions with her boy-cousin were the one 
 break in the continuous drudgery of the long and dreary 
 day — the one opportunity permitted her of getting a glimpse 
 of the sky, the clouds, the trees, and the pale London 
 sunlight shimmering on the placid lake. And by this time 
 she and he had explored all the secret nooks and byways 
 of the Park ; and they had chosen their favourite retreats 
 ■ — one, in particular, fronting a kind of back-channel, where 
 there was a wooden bench sheltered by bushes, and whither 
 they could easily, when they chose, summon a congregation 
 of clamorous ducks, that would come breasting through the 
 rippling waters, and even waddle up the grassy banks in 
 jealous competition for crumbs. But on this occasion they 
 had brought no bread with them ; so, when the invalid- 
 chair had been placed by the side of the bench, Briseis took 
 out a newspaper from the capacious pocket. 
 
 " Well, what shall I read to you this morning, Adalbert ? 
 There will be the First Round for the Association Challenge 
 Cup " 
 
 " No, no, never mind about that," he said, hastily. 
 *' I've got something better for you, Briseis — something 
 that will stir you ; I found it last night in a volume of 
 Tennyson that Miss Bingham lent me, and I copied it : if 
 you take out my MS. book, you'll see it is the last piece. 
 I want to hear you read it aloud — I know it will be splendid, 
 Briseis — just splendid 1 " 
 
 She was a willing slave to this poor chap ; she humoured 
 him, petted him, and obeyed his every whim ; and if he 
 was occasionally a little exacting she did not mind very 
 much. She got out the copy-book, and turned to the last 
 piece ; and a single glance down the page told her some- 
 thing of the proud indignation of the opening verses, so 
 that she was in a measure prepared when slie began — 
 
 •My Lords, we heard you speak: you told U8 all 
 Tliat England's lionest censure went too far; 
 Tliat our free jircss eliould cease to brawl 
 Not Bting the fiery Frenchman into war. 
 It was our ancient privilege, nay Lords, 
 To lliiii,' whate'er we felt, not fearing, into words 
 
 He listened in absolute silence, though already he seemed
 
 FROM MORN TILL EVE 117 
 
 somewhat breathless ; hut when she had finished the fifth 
 verse — 
 
 ' Shall we fear him, ? our own we never fear'd. 
 
 From our first Charles by force we wrung our claima. 
 Prick'd by the Papal spur, we rear'd, 
 
 We flung the burthen of the second James. 
 I say, wo never fear'dj and as for these, 
 We broke them on the land, we drove them on the seas' — 
 
 he could restrain his enthusiasm no longer. 
 
 " How grandly you read, Briseis — how grand — grand ! " 
 he cried. " You ought to be in a great hall — and multi- 
 tudes — cheering you and cheering you " 
 
 " But who are ' these ' ? " she asked — for her edition of 
 Tennyson did not contain this poem. 
 
 " ' These ' ? " he repeated, triumphantly. " Why, the 
 
 French I 
 
 'as for these, 
 We broke them on the land, we drove them on the seas.' 
 
 Yes ; and that's what England could do again to-morrow, 
 if there was need ! But, Briseis," he went on, " would you 
 mind turning back a few pages, and you'll find another 
 piece called ' The Charge of the Heavy Brigade at Bala- 
 clava ' — I won't ask you to read it all — I'm quite ashamed, 
 you know, to trouble you — but only one verse, the one 
 beginning ' The trumpet, the gallop, the charge ' — for one 
 of the three who followed Scarlett right in amongst the 
 Russian cavalry was an Elliot — Scarlett's aide-de-camp, you 
 
 know " 
 
 Again she followed his directions ; and she knew, rather 
 than saw, that his face was mantling with colour and his 
 large eyes ' glowering ' as she declaimed the swinging 
 lines — • 
 
 ' The trumpet, the gallop, the charge, and the might of the fight I 
 Thousands of horsemen had gather'd there on the height. 
 With a wmg push'd out to the left, and a wing to the right 
 And who shall escape if they close? but he dash'd up alone 
 Thro' the great gray slope of men, 
 Sway'd his sabre, and held his own 
 Like an Englishman there and then; 
 All in a moment follow'd with force 
 Three that were next in their fiery course. 
 Wedged themselves in between horse and horse,
 
 ii8 S RISE IS 
 
 Fonglit for their lives in the narrow pap they had made — 
 Four amid thousands 1 and up the hill, up the hill, 
 Gallopt the gallant three hundred, the Heavy Brigade.* 
 
 " For you are an Elliot too," he said — perhaps as a kind 
 of vague apology for demanding so much of her. 
 
 But this breathing-space had to be curtailed, for they 
 had come out late ; and soon they were leaving these misty 
 glades, and the wooded islands, and the shimmering water, 
 and were returning to the roar of the streets again. They 
 got home just in time for luncheon — which, indeed, was an 
 ordeal that Briseis would fain have avoided ; for she had 
 not been living long in this house before it became apparent 
 to every one that she had found favour in the eyes of the 
 supercilious and cadaverous medical student ; and the 
 patronage that he bestowed upon her, especially at lunch- 
 time, took the form of asking her incessant and idiotic 
 conundrums, and propounding all sorts of fatuous quips and 
 catches. Now conundrums only bewildered her ; she never 
 could find the proper answer ; and especially was she unable 
 to perceive the simian japes that depend for their point on 
 an imitation of Cockney speech. Then the young gentle- 
 man who was dallying on his way to Caius addressed her 
 and her alone ; he would take no notice of the others at 
 table ; so that they were forced to become spectators — 
 amused and malicious spectators— of her desperate em- 
 barrassment. Sometimes the face of the small lame boy 
 ' flushed with anger ; but he dared not dispute with his 
 elder brother. 
 
 And on this morning, as usual, the lanky, gray-faced 
 student had allowed the whole of them to take their places 
 before he deigned to saunter in with his hands in his 
 pockets ; then, the moment he was seated, he called down 
 the table to Briseis. 
 
 " Briseis," said he, " are you good at finding rhymes ? " 
 
 " Oh, no — oh, not in the least," she answered, involun- 
 tarily shrinking back — for she knew that all eyes would be 
 upon her, in wait for her confusion. 
 
 " You must try," he proceeded — but whether to torment 
 her or to entertain her who could say ? — " I'll give you 
 three lines of a verse ; and you must find the fourth ; and 
 the fourth must rhyme and scan with the second ; only, you
 
 FROM MORN TILL EVE 119 
 
 are limited to two words : do you understand ? Now, 
 listen — 
 
 'She took some tea — a pound of tea — 
 
 And put it in a kettle ; 
 And then she went and boiled it ' 
 
 Do you understand ? You've got to find a fourth line that 
 will rhyme and scan with the second — seven syllables — but 
 only two words, mind — only two words " 
 
 " Oh, I'm sure I can't ! " Briseis protested — conscious of 
 the prevailing giggle. 
 
 " Well, I'll give you until to-morrow," ;said he, gaily, 
 "and then, if you haven't the answer, there must be a 
 forfeit. Always a forfeit in such cases ; it's a law of the 
 game ; the forfeit to be named by the propounder of the 
 riddle." 
 
 " Edward, dear," the poor widow put in, plaintively, 
 •' I wish you wouldn't worry your cousin so." 
 
 " But I must be off now, if you will excuse me, Aunt 
 Clara," Briseis said, rising from her place. " There is so 
 much to do to those dresses." 
 
 " My dear child, you have had no luncheon at aU ! " the 
 widow cried. 
 
 " Oh, yes, yes," she made answer, blithely enough — and 
 indeed she had had two spoonfuls of soup and a bit of 
 bread. 
 
 She was glad to get back to the musty and dusky school- 
 room ; nor did her task seem so very monotonous, once she 
 had got everything planned out, with only the mechanical 
 sewing to be got through ; for in this still seclusion there 
 were many pictures rising before her brain, however she 
 may have been occupied with the swift stitches — tremulous 
 and nebulous pictures that came before her in an unknown 
 and unsummoned fashion, and that carried her leagues and 
 leagues away from this lonely chamber. The glancing blue 
 waters of the Gulf of Aegina ; the salfron-white columns of 
 the Parthenon, dim and far on their high plateau ; the 
 steep slopes of Pentelicus, glaucous-green and scarred ; the 
 solitary Santa Maura, and the out- jutting golden clilf that 
 heard Sappho's farewell cry ; Corfu, and the luxuriant 
 palms and magnolias of Mon Repos ; the brown plains
 
 120 B RISE IS 
 
 surrounding Acro-Corinth ; the ruddy soil, the rich vegeta- 
 tion, the forts and bastions bristling with cannon at the 
 Euxine mouth of the Bosphorus : these and many another 
 magic-lantern slide passed slowly before her eyes as she 
 worked on at Olga's and Brenda's gowns. Sometimes her 
 ears deceived her ; it was as if she could hear a distant 
 singing — 'When we set out from Megara — Megara^ 
 Megara' — and the white fustanellas were twirling about 
 with frantic energy, and there were laughing faces under 
 the tasselled caps, out there in the blaze of the sun. Or 
 rather was it not the lapping of waves along the side of a 
 boat — with the moonlight silvering all the wide bay of 
 Phalerum — and Hymettus black against the stars — and 
 some one, delicate-fingered, touching the tightened strings 
 — while there stole into the listening air the low cadences 
 of a love-song of Zante ? Cape Colias gray and distant in 
 the ghostly radiance — and all the long line of shore 
 murmuring like a sea-shell 
 
 " How are you getting on now, Briseis ? " said Aunt 
 Clara, bustling into the room. " My bonny darlings must 
 come down and look at what you have done, just to make 
 sure. I wish all our other difficulties could be as easily got 
 over. What to do I hardly know. You see," she con- 
 tinued, and now she was regarding Briseis with something 
 more of hesitation, " it is of such importance that Mr. and 
 Mrs. Bingham should be favourably impressed with Ada's 
 surroundings ; and yet, if there is only the one maid 
 waiting at table, I am afraid to think what awkwardness 
 may happen. Of course there are the two ; but one of 
 them must — simply must — be told off to bring the dishes 
 up from the kitchen to the hall table. Cook can't be 
 expected to do more than her own work ; she can't keep 
 running up the stairs ; and old Wilkinshaw is useless — 
 she'd tumble and bring destruction on everything. Yet if 
 it could only be managed that we had both the maids iu 
 the dining-room, what a relief it would be — even as regards 
 the handing of vegetables " 
 
 " But, Aunt Clara," said Briseis, glancing up from her 
 needle — and there was usually a touch of wonder in the 
 beautiful, dark, friendly eyes when she raised her head in 
 this way, " why should you have any difficulty ? Meeting
 
 PROM MORN TILL EVE 12t 
 
 those strangers wouldn't interest me, I'm sure : why not 
 let me carry up the things from the kitchen to the hall 
 table ? — then you can have both maids to wait in the 
 dining-room." 
 
 " Do you mean that, Briseis ? " said Aunt Clara, almost 
 too quickly. " It is so kind of you ! — so thoughtful ! — so 
 considerate I And your own suggestion too— that makes it 
 all the more good-natured ; for of course I never would 
 have proposed such a thing — not for worlds would I have 
 proposed such a thing ; but when it comes so naturally and 
 spontaneously from yourself, why, then I say that I have 
 no right to refuse such a — such a — magnanimous offer. 
 Oh, I know. It isn't every one who would do it — and who 
 would be the first to suggest it. Thank you, thank you 
 ever so much I And then, when it comes to dessert, you 
 see, Briseis, you will have time to slip up-stairs, and get 
 dressed, and be waiting for us in the drawing-room. For 
 we must have you in the drawing-room — we could not do 
 without you in the drawing-room, you know — you play so 
 exquisitely. And Briseis, there's still another thing : if 
 you saw your way, in the general conversation, to bring in 
 an occasional sentence of Italian or Greek " 
 
 But at this the pale, clear forehead of the girl flushed a 
 little ; and Aunt Clara instantly perceived that she had 
 made a mistake. 
 
 " Oh, I didn't mean pretence — I didn't mean any vulgar 
 show-off," she said, somewhat hastily. " Far from that. 
 For how could there be any pretence in your case ? Every 
 one knows you are such a wonderful linguist ; and how 
 could there be any affectation in your making use of such 
 phrases ? To Adalbert, for example : haven't I heard you 
 and Adalbert talking Greek together ? " 
 
 " Adalbert," responded Briseis, calmly, " can say nai, 
 alethos — agapete moi phile- — and a few words like that. 
 But I am quite sure he is much too honest and straight- 
 forward to pretend to know a language that he doesn't 
 know." 
 
 " Oh, yes, of course — you are quite right — quite right — ■ 
 certainly : only — only — I did so wish the Binghams to 
 understand that their daughter was living among people of 
 culture — though, as you say, one wouldn't have any
 
 122 . BRISEIS -^ ■ 
 
 pretence — oh, no — not on any account. But at leftst you 
 will play for us, Briseis ? " 
 
 " Whatever you please. Aunt Clara ! " 
 
 So Briseis was once more left alone, with her patient toil ; 
 but she was gradually getting to the end of it ; and eventu- 
 ally — as the dusk of the autumn day was stealing over — 
 she had finished ; and Olga and Brenda were summoned. 
 They condescended to express a cold approval. Nay, there 
 was more than that ; for having asked of their cousin what 
 dress she herself meant to wear at dinner, and having been 
 informed as to the share in the festivity that had, been 
 allotted to her, Olga at least showed some trifle of indig- 
 nation. 
 
 " It's a beastly shame," said she, frowning angrily. 
 " You're being put upon, Bry ; and you don't see it. It's 
 too bad — it's simply disgusting — the way Ned rots you 
 at lunch-time. And as for carrying these things up 
 from the kitchen, why wasn't Ada Bingham's maid turned 
 on to it ? — she can't always be frizzing the hair of that 
 spitfire cat 1 " 
 
 " Never mind," said the sullen -mouthed Brenda — whose 
 temperature was no longer alarming her — "you'll be able 
 to snick the best of the pastry when it's waiting on the hall- 
 table." 
 
 And now Briseis, who was completely overwrought — for 
 she had been at these unceasing occupations and employ- 
 ments ever since seven o'clock that morning — now she 
 thought she might steal away to her own little den and lie 
 down for a few minutes, before the labours of the evening 
 began. But she had not taken into account the indomit- 
 able activity of her ubiquitous aunt. 
 
 " "Where are you going, Briseis, dear ? Will you come 
 here for a moment ? I've arranged the flowers on the 
 dining-room table — in a kind of a way ; but you have such 
 excellent taste, you know — if you wouldn't mind putting a 
 finishing touch — I shall just have time to dress now. And 
 you might have a look round the drawing-room, too — do 
 just as you like— just as you like — it's sure to be an 
 improvement " 
 
 Which was all very well ; but in the ornamentation of 
 her house Mrs. Alexander Elliott acted on these two funda-
 
 FROM MORN TILL EVE 123 
 
 mental principles — first, that each and every article in the 
 drawing-room must be adorned with a large bow of silk 
 ribbon, as if it were a white poodle-dog, and, secondly, that 
 flowers, whether cut or potted, were simple, feeble, in- 
 effective things, and must therefore be swathed round about 
 with masses of satin, either pink or yellow. And as Briseis 
 did not know how far she might dare to impinge upon these 
 traditions, her tentative little efforts at decoration were 
 considerably restricted ; however, she proceeded as well as 
 she could ; and, in fact, had only done restoring some 
 measure of freedom to the cramped-up flowers of the dining- 
 room table when a ringing of the door-bell warned her to 
 fly and seek shelter down in the kitchen. 
 
 The carrying up of the dinner dishes did not prove to be 
 much of a hardship, after all ; and when, at intervals, she 
 caught some glimpse or echo of the rather funereal banquet 
 going forward in the dining-room, she did not much regret 
 being on the wrong side of the door. Then by-and-by 
 dessert arrived ; and this was the signal for her to get off 
 to her own apartment, to dress for the later ceremony. 
 When she descended to the drawing-room she found herself 
 alone ; so she occupied the spare moments in loosening out 
 a few of the bows of ribbon, and in shaking free some of 
 the tied-up curtains. 
 
 Miss Bingham's papa and mamma turned out to be 
 a rather distinguished-looking couple, both of them of 
 a countrified complexion, with good manners, and consider- 
 able reticence of speech. But, well-bred as they may have 
 been, neither could altogether conceal a slight glance of 
 surprise when they were introduced to Briseis Valieri. 
 Who was the mysterious stranger, then, who had not been 
 granted a place at the dinner-table ? A niece ? But she 
 was so singularly unlike the rest of the family ; she was tall 
 — dark-eyed — and gracious of bearing ; and when, at her 
 aunt's request, she went to the piano and be^an to play 
 something — soft and low, so as not to disturb the conversa- 
 tion — Mrs. Bingham at least knew that that was no school- 
 girl's touch, no, nor any music-mistress's either. And then, 
 when Briseis had done what had been demanded of her, 
 she rose and retired into an adjacent corner, where there 
 chanced to be a small side-table, and a lamp and somp
 
 124 B RISE IS 
 
 photographs ; and here no one interfered with her ; indeed, 
 she even ventured to open and read a note that had 
 stealthily been placed in her hand by the little lame boy. 
 It contained only these words — " The line is ' On Popocata- 
 petl ' ; but don't tell Edward I told you. — A." She had a 
 vague impression that this might refer to some one or other 
 of the medical student's fatuities ; but which of them she 
 couldn't recall at the moment. 
 
 The Binghams did not stay late ; but there was much to 
 do after they had gone ; and it was not until well past 
 eleven that Briseis was allowed to retire finally to the 
 solitude of her own room. By this time she was about 
 done to death ; and perhaps inclined to be a trifle hysterical 
 after the long and unintermittent strain ; and to calm 
 herself she went and sat by the window (the stars were 
 faintly visible above the roofs of the opposite houses), and 
 repeated to herself — and repeated more than once, too — 
 Goethe's pathetic Nachtlied. The translation (of the 
 untranslatable) was her own, and no doubt was bald and 
 bare enough ; but she had used the little fragment ere now 
 as a kind of spell or charm in moments of despondency. 
 
 Over all the mountains 
 
 Is peace; 
 
 Along the far summits 
 
 Hearest thou 
 
 Hardly a breath ; 
 
 Hie birds are hushed in the forest. 
 
 Wait thou only, and soon 
 
 Thou also shall sleep. 
 
 This time the charm proved to be of no avail. She was 
 restless — nervously excited — sleep was out of the question — ■ 
 ' ihr war, sie wusste nicht wie.' And at length, hardly 
 knowing what she did, she went to the side of the bed, and 
 threw herself on her knees, and laid her forehead on her 
 clasped hands. It was an attitude of prayer — though this 
 was a strange kind of prayer : 
 
 " Mother — father — uncle — where are you all ? " she mur- 
 mured, amid wild tears and wilder sobbing. " Where are 
 you ? Can you hear me ? Do you know that — that I am 
 trying to do my best ? — I try — to do what you would 
 approve — but — but I am so lonely — so lonely. Mother —
 
 A SECRET OF THE WOODS 125 
 
 mother — surely you can hear me — cannot you say something 
 
 ^to let me know — that you approve ? " 
 
 But there was no answer from the wide, and sad, and 
 silent spaces of the stars. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 A SECEET OP THE WOODS. 
 
 Now no one who had met Miss Georgie Lestrange coming 
 lightly down the staircase and across the hall of Glen Skean 
 Castle, on this fresh, and brilliant, and sweet-scented 
 morning, would have suspected that there was aught of evil, 
 or mischief, or malice in her extremely pretty eyes. And 
 perhaps there was not. Perhaps she had only the natural 
 wish to get out-of-doors for a minute or two — to look 
 abroad on the wide valley with its azure ribbon of a river, 
 on the rose-purple slopes of heather stained to a claret 
 colour here and there by the passing clouds, and on the 
 sunlight weaving silver into the mists of Aonach Mor. 
 That was simple and natural enough. The dew was 
 trembling and glinting on the grass ; the rowan-trees were 
 a glory of scarlet ; the black shadows of the limes and 
 beeches moved slowly, this way and that, on the vivid green 
 of the lawn : there were plenty of things to engage her 
 pleased attention, out here in the open air. But Miss 
 Georgie did not at once step forth into the sunshine. 
 
 For it so happened that in passing through the portico 
 she caught sight of the luncheon-bag, already packed and 
 lying on the table ; and as this bag was made of netting, 
 the contents of it were for the most part visible, among 
 these being a couple of small tumblers, one within the 
 other for safer carrying. She paused only for a second ; 
 and even now there was no indication that any devilment 
 had occurred to her nimble brain. Nay, it was with a fine 
 affectation of carelessness that she went outside and looked 
 all about her — her dark blue Tam 0' Shanter set jauntily 
 on the rebellious tangles of her golden-red hair. And then 
 she passed across the terrace ; and tripped down the wide 
 steps; and strolled along to the nearest flower-plot, and
 
 126 BRISEIS 
 
 proceeded to gather a few pansies. These pansies were of 
 an uncommon kind — dusky orange and russet, with manifold 
 streaks and blotches ; and perhaps that was why she wanted 
 them ; at all events, when she had secured the little nose- 
 gay she returned with it to the portico, and placed it for a 
 moment on the table. Then, and more rapidly (and after 
 a quick and furtive glance into the interior of the hall), 
 she undid the clasp of the luncheon-bag ; she took out the 
 two tiunblers, and separated them ; she wrapped the paper 
 round one of them and restored it to its place ; the other 
 received the tiny bouquet ; and with that in her hand she 
 walked into the spacious and empty dining-room, where 
 breakfast was laid. This was but a trifling decoration to 
 place on the massive Elizabethan sideboard, in front of the 
 great salvers and tankards ; nevertheless she seemed satis- 
 fied ; and when she went out once more to the terrace, she 
 was demurely whistling to herself as she walked up and 
 down — with a watchful eye for any new-comer. 
 
 And that, as it chanced, was none other than Frank 
 Gordon, who had been down to see what the river was like. 
 
 " I'm afraid. Miss Georgie," said he, as he came up, " it's 
 no use your going with us to-day. The water has dwindled 
 away to nothing. Not a ghost of a chance " 
 
 " But you said you would show me the big fish in the 
 pools above the Priest's Bridge," said Miss Georgie, in 
 rather an injured fashion. 
 
 " Oh, well, if you like to go as far, for the pleasure of 
 sitting and looking at them " 
 
 " And the photographs," she continued. " You said you 
 would help nie to get sonic instantaneous views of salmon- 
 fi.shing — you casting, you know, out at the end of the 
 jetty — and John standing by you, with the gaff " 
 
 " Oh, certainly, by all means," he said, " if you think it's 
 wurtli while coming fur that." 
 
 " And you promised to try the new rod the Prince has 
 had sent him " 
 
 " Taking a salmon-rod out to Monteveltro ! " 
 
 " But you promised. And besides," she added, triumph- 
 antly and conclusively, " the luncheon-bag is already packed 
 for us — for soiric of the Englisli servants have Iteon allowed 
 to go oil' to SL-e tli<! lliglil;iiiil (Jajiu-s at Foil Mary, and
 
 A SECRET OF THE WOODS 127 
 
 they did everything they could before they left. What 
 time would you like to start ? " 
 
 " Whenever you please." 
 
 " Oh, weU, I'll go and get the plates put in my camera ; 
 and if we set out immediately after breakfast, I dare say 
 there wiU be plenty of time for us to photograph all the 
 way up to the Priest's Bridge." 
 
 It seemed a satisfactory arrangement ; but it did not so 
 entirely commend itself to all the members of this house- 
 hold. Some little while after the setting forth of the 
 expedition, Lady Rockminster went along to her sister-in- 
 law's boudoir, knocked, and was bidden to enter. 
 
 " Adela," said she, when she had shut the door behind 
 her, " I want to speak to you." 
 
 " What is it ? " asked Lady Adela in reply, looking up 
 from her writing. She was dressed in a most charming 
 tea-gown : it was a compliment she paid to her work, and 
 indirectly to the public. 
 
 " Do you know that Georgie Lestrange has gone away 
 up the river again, with Frank Gordon ? " 
 
 " Yes ? " 
 
 " Well, that's nothing in itself, perhaps," continued Lady 
 Rockminster, who seemed somewhat vexed, " but really the 
 way she is going on is too bad " 
 
 "She is a mischievous wretch," observed Lady Adela, 
 calmly. 
 
 " It is really outrageous 1 " the tall and handsome young 
 matron protested. " And I am certain the Princess is 
 deeply annoyed, though she is too proud to say anything. 
 Why, do you know that more than once I have caaght the 
 maids sniggering among themselves ? Now that is abomin- 
 able. That is perfectly abominable." 
 
 " Really, Honnor," her sister-in-law retorted, " I don't 
 see how you can blame Georgie for the bad manners of 
 your servants. And as for her little frolics, what harm 
 is in them ? It's only her fun." 
 
 " It's a kind of fun that sometimes Las very serious 
 consequences," said Lady Rockminster, impatiently. 
 
 Her sister-in-law laid down her pen. 
 
 " What is it you are afraid of, Honnor ? A boy and 
 girl amubiug tht-mselves, like a pair of kittens : what harm
 
 128 B RISE IS 
 
 can come of that ? Is it Master Frank you are concerned 
 about ? Leave him alone : he can take care of himself — ■ 
 trust him 1 He wasn't born yesterday. Nor was she, for 
 the matter of that. Georgie has had at least one little 
 affair of a more serious kind. There was Jack Cavan — the 
 Cavans of Kilcrana — I never quite knew how that was 
 broken off " 
 
 " All the same," rejoined Lady Rockminster, " I do say 
 that Georgie Lestrange is carrying things too far ; and I 
 consider that you ought to interfere. I cannot. I am her 
 hostess. But you are her particular friend " 
 
 " And I will give you a very sufficient reason why I 
 cannot interfere," Lady Adela made answer, with not 
 a little dignity. " Are you aware that I am making a 
 study of the situation ? These two are my models, at 
 present. I am drawing from the life " 
 
 " And do you mean to tell me," exclaimed Lady Rock- 
 minster, with only half-concealed indignation, " that you 
 are ready to sacrifice the interests of your friend — that you 
 refuse to warn her of her danger — because of the require- 
 ments of your novel ? " 
 
 Lady Adela Cunyngham was not in the least put out. 
 
 " My dear Plonnor," she said, with much self-possession, 
 " you mistake the point of view. I am trying to make my 
 book a minute and faithful picture of English life as it is 
 lived to-day, in all its varied phases ; and I trust that the 
 record may have a permanent value long after temporary 
 escapades are forgotten." 
 
 In asserting her position the authoress had become almost 
 convincingly sententious : Lady Rockmiuster hardly knew 
 what to say. She left the room wondering whether she 
 herself would have to ask Miss Georgie to be a little more 
 circumspect in her methods, or whether those gay cantrips 
 were to go on entirely unchecked. 
 
 And at this very moment ]\Iiss Georgie Lestrange was 
 out in the middle of the river Skcan, cautiously making 
 her way along a kuil'elike edge of rock, while Frank Gordon 
 was by her side, splashing through the shallows, and holding 
 on by her arm to balance her. Presently she stopped. 
 
 "I think we arc far enough," slie said, looking back 
 towards the bank they had left behind — where John Tod
 
 A SECRET OF THE WOODS 129 
 
 was in charge of the little black box of a camera perched 
 on a big gray boulder. " Yes,: this will about do. Now 
 you get up on that stone." 
 
 He did as he was bid. 
 
 "You must reach over and grasp my hand," she con- 
 tinued, " as if you were going to help me to jiunp on to 
 the rock beside you — do you see ? And take a firm gi'ip — 
 my fingers aren't made of whipped cream — and that will 
 steady us both. If we're all in focus, castle and hills and 
 all, I think it will be rather nobby." 
 
 'Nobby' is not perhaps the word one would have 
 chosen ; but there is no doubt she had planned this com- 
 position with considerable skill. For here were the fore- 
 ground figures, out on the rocks amid the silver-glancing 
 waters ; behind them was a still, clear, tea-brown pool 
 that made a perfect mirror for the overhanging rowan- 
 trees and hazel-bushes ; beyond them, in the distance, rose 
 the plateau on which the gray walls of the Castle stood out 
 from their background of dark green pine ; while over all 
 towered the peaks of Aonach Mor, the threads of snow in 
 fehe shadowed crevices losing themselves in the hovering 
 clouds. That, at least, was what she had arranged through 
 the medium of the ' finder ' ; and there remained now but 
 to signal to John Tod to press the spring. 
 
 " Sure you won't wobble ? " she said to her companion, 
 as she reached out her hand. " Hold on firm now. Sure 
 you won't wobble when I cry ' Go 1' ? " 
 
 " I have braced up my nerves," he answered her. 
 
 " Go I " she caUed — and the sound rang clearly away 
 across the soft mm'muring of the stream. 
 
 The next moment she had straightened herself up again, 
 still clinging to his hand ; and then he stepped down from 
 the stone into the water, to pilot her ashore ; and in a little 
 while they had resumed their leisurely pilgrimage along the 
 river-bank. 
 
 It was quite wonderful the number of picturesque back- 
 grounds that Miss Georgie managed to discover, on this 
 idle morning ; and there was no need to initiate John Tod 
 into the mysteries of time-exposure, for the sunlight was 
 vivid on bank and brae ; so that here, there, and every- 
 where she was forming her little group of two, and having 
 
 K
 
 I30 B RISE IS 
 
 it snapped for her. But there was one spot in especial 
 that she set her heart on ; just below the Priest's Bridge 
 it was — a deep and slumberous pool dark almost to an 
 ebony blackness ; on the further side a wall of water-worn 
 rock with overhanging woods ; on the hither side steep 
 slopes smothered in heather and bracken and scrub-oak ; 
 while out into the glassy surface of the stream ran a small 
 russet-yellow jetty, rudely constructed of split pine, for the 
 convenience of the fisherman. 
 
 " Now, Sir Francis," said she, " you must go right to the 
 end of the jetty, for your gray figure will do splendidly 
 against the black shadow, and there will be the reflection 
 in the water as well. You must take your rod, too, and 
 pretend to be casting " 
 
 * And you ? " said he. 
 
 " Oh, I am coming out, too," she answered, blithely. 
 "I am going to stand by you as your gillie, gaff in 
 hand " 
 
 " That's rather reversing the natural order of things, 
 isn't it ? " he made bold to remark. 
 
 " Now be a good boy, and do as you're told," said she, in 
 a businesslike manner, as she proceeded to poise the camera. 
 " This is the very last one I am going to take — and it must 
 be perfect." 
 
 Of course the result of all these experiments could not be 
 known until much later on ; but in the meantime she 
 seemed well content ; and as they continued on their way 
 up through the woods to the heights above the Priest's 
 Bridge, she appeared to be in excellent spirits. And yet 
 she said — as she absently plucked a bit of heather and 
 began to nibble at it — 
 
 " It's horrid to have no soul — positively horrid. Don't 
 you think so ? I call it loathsome — distinctly loathsome." 
 
 " No soul ? " he repeated in amazement. " Who has 
 no soul ? " 
 
 " I," she rejoined, deliberately. " I am conscious of it 
 all the time I am with Lady Adela, and Sibyl, and Rose. 
 Their aspirations, their passionate yearnings, their noble 
 ambitions — all that arises from their having souls ; they 
 are in earnest, and enjoy a kind of spiritual exaltation ; 
 and I feel so awfully ashamed — and mean— and — and
 
 A SECRET OF THE WOODS 131 
 
 empty. I am convinced I have no soul ; and it's really 
 and truly horrid." 
 
 " Oh, but there are other qualities," said he, boldly (for he 
 must needs comfort this poor creature in her vague despond- 
 ency). " You wouldn't have everybody \\Titing, and paint- 
 ing, and composing music ? You wouldn't have the world 
 filled with people of that kind ? Surely there are qualities in 
 human life quite as valuable as the enthusiasm of amateurs ! 
 There's cheerfulness, for example ; and there's good-nature 
 — and good-comradeship ; and straightforwardness — and 
 brightness — and merriment " 
 
 " Oh, is that me ? " she said. " Do you mean me ? Really ? 
 Perhaps, after all, I may be a blessing in disguise ! " 
 
 " I don't see the disguise," said he. 
 
 " Hm ! — that's rather nice," she observed, reflectively ; 
 and by this time they were out in the open again — high 
 above the Skean Narrows. 
 
 And then, and cautiously, he led her forward to the brink 
 of the deep and sombre chasm ; and, resting his hand on 
 a birch-tree, he peered over, and continued his intense 
 scrutiny, for a few seconds. Then he withdrew his head. 
 
 " I can only see two down there, but they are huge 
 brutes." 
 
 " Where — where — where ? " she exclaimed excitedly ; and 
 she also would crane her neck and head, gazing down 
 through the bushes into the deeps of the river far below. 
 
 But at first she could see nothing at all — nothing save 
 the dark, clear, stiQ water, with here and there some faint 
 indication of the gravel or rock at the bottom. She stared 
 and better stared — eager — impatient — and then she uttered 
 a slight cry. 
 
 " Oh, I see him ! — I see him I " 
 
 For a duU-hued, olive-green object, hitherto lying motion- 
 less above a flat yellow stone, had made a slight movement ; 
 there was an obscure gleam for the fiftieth part of a second ; 
 but that was sufficient to direct the eye ; and now she could 
 dimly make out the enormous fish, which was almost motion- 
 less again, and not too easily discernible unless one's atten- 
 tion were kept steady. 
 
 " There's another about a yard and a half further down," 
 Frank Gordon said to her, " but he's closer in to the rock : 
 
 K 2
 
 132 BJilSEIS 
 
 you won't make him out until your eyes get better accus- 
 tomed. In the mean time, what do you say to having 
 hmch, just here ? You can sit and watch the fish : very 
 likely you may see one or other of them throw himself 
 out of the water — and these two are forty-pounders if 
 they're anything." 
 
 Well, she was nothing loth ; for the long rambling by 
 glade and stream had made her hungry ; John was sum- 
 moned to bring along the bag ; the little white parcels 
 were opened ; and there was a display of tongue and 
 turkey sandwiches, vinegared lettuce, and other conunodities. 
 Then he drew the cork of the claret-bottle ; and proceeded 
 to remove the paper that ought to have en^\Tapped two 
 tumblers. There was only one. 
 
 " Look at this ! " he exclaimed angrily. " Did you ever 
 see such carelessness ! Hallett has sent us only one 
 tumbler ! " 
 
 Not the faintest tinge of colour appeared on the shell- 
 like purity of her forehead. 
 
 " Oh, really ? " she said, with great sweetness. " But it 
 doesn't matter, does it ? " 
 
 " Of course it doesn't matter," said he, gloomily. " I can 
 get the loan of the cup from Tod's flask." 
 
 This startled her : it was an unforeseen check. 
 
 " Oh, Tod's flask ? " she repeated. " Some battered old 
 zinc thing — why should you want to have that ? Surely 
 this tumbler can do for both of us ? I am not too proud, if 
 you are not." 
 
 It was a challenge — a conmaand, rather. 
 
 " If you don't mind " he said. 
 
 " Of course I don't mind 1 " she said, with robust good- 
 nature ; and therewith they set to work on the small 
 packets ; and when it came to the question of claret, they 
 drank alternately, like two love-birds, from the same cup. 
 The familiar hobnobbing, here in these remote and sylvan 
 solitudes, seemed to delight her ; she picked the nicest 
 sandwiches for him ; she recommended this and recom- 
 mended that ; and finally, luncheon over, she cleverly pared 
 an apple, and duly presented him with his proper half. 
 
 And yet slie was not wliolly ha]ipy. Ever and anon she 
 had been glancing down towards the still pools at the
 
 A SECRET OF THE WOODS 133 
 
 bottom of the wooded gorge, where she could now make out, 
 not only the two large salmon, but three or four smaller 
 ones, equally immobile in the shadows of the rocks. 
 
 " It's an awful swizz seeing those fish lying there, isn't 
 it ? " she said, somewhat enigmatically. " Makes you want 
 to throw stones at them, doesn't it ? They're no use to 
 anybody, are they ? " Then she looked him straight in 
 the face. " Sir Francis," said she, " did you ever hear of 
 such a thing as ' snatching ' a salmon ? " 
 
 " A shabby trick," he said, as he lit a cigarette. 
 
 " Oh, yes, that's all very well," she proceeded, un- 
 dauntedly. " I know that snatching is considered to be 
 very disgraceful — at least, that is what people pretend — and 
 you wouldn't do it while there was a keeper or a gillie near 
 by. But if 1 were a man, I would not be afraid of the 
 opinion of keepers and gillies ! " 
 
 " I am not afraid of the opinion of keepers and gillies," 
 he humbly protested, " I am afraid of my own opinion." 
 
 "Oh, that is all quixotism," she insisted. "Now just 
 let me count up the reasons why you should snatch one of 
 these fish, so that we may take it home with us. First of 
 all I want to see how it's done : that's one reason. Then 
 I know the housekeeper at the Castle, or the cook, or 
 whoever it is, will be glad to have a salmon for the kitchen 
 — that's two more : three reasons. Then the fish for the 
 time being belong to Lord Rockminster : eight reasons. 
 Are you counting ? Then it's a secluded place : no one 
 can possibly see us : twelve reasons. That's already twelve 
 undeniable reasons. But the twenty-first, and the original 
 and imperative one, is that I must and shall see how it's 
 done ! " 
 
 Now if he had looked any other way he might have 
 been saved ; but he looked the very worst way of all ; he 
 looked at her eyes — and these were full of a malicious and 
 audacious mirth. He fell. 
 
 " Do you mean it ? " he said. 
 
 " Of course I do ! " she answered him. 
 
 " John ! " he called aloud. " Bring me my fly-book, and 
 a small japanned box you will find in the fishing-bag, and 
 the Prince's rod." 
 
 <^ Why the Prince's rod ? " she demanded.
 
 134 BRISEIS 
 
 " Do you think I would contaminate my own rod with 
 any such iniquity ? — whereas the Monteveltrin conscience 
 won't mind." Then, when John Tod had brought the 
 japanned box, he opened it. " I wish to draw your at- 
 tention, Miss Georgie, to the fact that I have not a triangle 
 in my possession : I shall have to make one by destroying 
 three valuable flies." 
 
 " And why not ? " said she. " Haven't I given you 
 thirty-seven sound reasons why it is right and just and 
 absolutely necessary that you should snatch a salmon ? " 
 
 " Oh, let that go — let that go," he said, doggedly. 
 " When one is embarking on wild wickedness, it's no good 
 trying to salve one's soul with excuses." 
 
 He took three large Jock Scotts, and ruthlessly cut the 
 dressing oflF them ; he placed them back to back, and bound 
 them together with brass wire ; he affixed a bit of string 
 and a leaden sinker ; he ran a piece of gut through the 
 eyed shanks— — But enough : the execrable implement was 
 at length complete. And by this time the Prince's brand- 
 new rod had been put together. 
 
 "Now, John," he said, "you go away down to the 
 water-side, and hide behind a rock ; and you needn't see 
 what's going on till I yell to you to be ready with the 
 gaff." 
 
 He himself descended the steep bank some little way, 
 clambering through tall heather, and broom, and birch ; 
 and ever at his elbow was Vivien the temptress, far more 
 resolute and set on this atrocious enterprise than he was. 
 
 " Try for one of the big ones," she whispered eagerly. 
 " Won't it be splendid to take a forty-five-pounder back to 
 the Castle ! " 
 
 Which was all very well ; but the difficulty of swinging 
 and pitching that unholy implement, in this narrow chasm, 
 was much greater than she understood ; besides, it is not 
 suggested that he was an adept. At last, however, he 
 managed to drop the triangle on to the smooth-worn face 
 of the opposite rock — he kept jerking it slightly — and finally 
 it flopped into the water, just beyond one of the great 
 salmon. The next moment there was a vacancy where that 
 fish had been. It made no wave; it showed. no sudden 
 flash ; it simply vanished ; and the yellow stone over
 
 A SECRET OF THE WOODS 135 
 
 which it had been hanging was a yellow stone, and nothing 
 more. 
 
 " Sir Francis, swear for me ! " said Miss Georgie, with 
 her teeth set. 
 
 "We must try further down," said he, more calmly. 
 " But those rowan-trees are the very mischief." 
 
 They were the very mischief ; for more than once he got 
 caught up, and had to risk the whole of his tackle in 
 hauling away the triangle by main force ; but eventually 
 most unmerited success crowned his efforts — he was fast 
 into a fish, that first dashed up the pool, and then dashed 
 down again, and then went to the bottom and dourly 
 remained there. 
 
 This was but the beginning of the most desperate series 
 of adventures that ever befell an unfortimate angler. To 
 start with, he was surrounded with difficulties. He dared 
 not move from his place, so sheer was the descent beneath 
 him. Bushes hemmed him in on this bank ; on the other 
 were overhanging trees. Worst of all, the long and dark pool, 
 towards its lower extremity, narrowed until the water flowed 
 between two almost contiguous waUs of rock ; and it was a 
 matter of certainty that if the salmon entered that channel, 
 he would depart on a fareweU voyage. And of course, as is 
 the wont of salmon, as soon as this fish had tired of sulking, 
 it was for the neck of that channel that he deliberately 
 made. More and more strain was put on him ; and more 
 and more strain ; and still the brute kept boring down ; 
 ruin seemed inevitable 
 
 When there was a most appalling crack : the rod had 
 snapped clean in two I — half-way up the middle joint. 
 Gordon (with an inward ' mother of Moses, what's going 
 to happen now 1 ') had just time to seize the upper half 
 before it slid down the slackened line, so that he now found 
 himself with half a rod in each hand, the line being the 
 only connecting link. 
 
 " Here," he said quickly to his companion, " take this — 
 and reel up when I tell you — and let out when I tell 
 you " 
 
 With trembling fingers Miss Georgie received the lower 
 half of the rod, and breathlessly awaited commands. The 
 marvellous thing was that the sudden slackening of the
 
 136 B RISE IS 
 
 strain had apparently altered the determination of the fish 
 to go down the narrow channel : he began to come steadily 
 back — whOe the fisherman, holding his half of the rod 
 with the left hand, with the right pulled in the line through 
 the rings. 
 
 " Reel up !— reel up ! " he cried to his companion — and 
 Miss Georgie, with her heart in her mouth, and her eyes 
 hot as fire, and her fingers shaking, fought with the small 
 horn handle as best she could. 
 
 " Oh, Frank," she said (not knowing what she said), 
 " what's going to happen ? " 
 
 " Yes, that's what I want to know," he answered her, 
 grimly, with his eye fixed on the gray thread that was 
 slowly cutting the water. " I never before played a fish 
 with the top half of a broken rod. I suppose it's a judg- 
 ment Let out 1 let out ! " he suddenly called to her — 
 
 for now the salmon was making a vigorous dash for the 
 head of the pool, and the poor, quaking lass had to let the 
 line run free, though her knees were now almost unable to 
 support her. 
 
 " Oh, what's it going to do ! " she said, pantingly. " Oh, 
 I can't hold this thing any longer — I cannot — I cannot " 
 
 And then she uttered a piercing shriek. In her blind 
 agitation and terror she had somehow managed to get the 
 reel released from the rod ; the moment it was loose it fell 
 away from her tremulous grasp ; and then in helpless dismay 
 she saw it gradually and beautifully roll down the steep 
 incline, ending by a splash into the water. 
 
 " Well, I ttink that has about settled the matter this 
 journey ! " observed young Gordon, with a ruefnl laugh. 
 
 But not yet. The crustacean gillie, his back bent double, 
 came swiftly and crouchingly along ; he caught the line and 
 tried to jerk the reel to the siu'face ; he failed at first, but 
 ultimately, by gentler means, succeeded ; and then he 
 rapidly wound in. 
 
 " Will I fling it up t' ye 1 " he called. 
 
 " No, no ! " she screamed in her alarm. " Keep it your- 
 self, and do what Sir Francis toils you 1 " 
 
 " Slide the butt down to him," young Gordon said to her, 
 quietly, and without even looking at her : all his attention 
 was concentrated on the point where the scarcely moving
 
 A SECRET OF THE WOODS 137 
 
 gray thread met the mysterious brown deeps of the pool. 
 " The butt," he exclaimed, — " your end of the rod — let it 
 Blip down the line, and he'll get hold of it." 
 
 Then she understood ; the butt was launched, and safely 
 delivered ; John Tod reafiixed the reel ; and then stood 
 awaiting orders — in the most astounding predicament that 
 had ever fallen to his lot. 
 
 And what was the salmon about all this time ? Well, the 
 salmon, not knowing that a single decisive movement must 
 almost certainly have ensm-ed its escape, had again gone 
 below to sulk ; and there it had remained, perhaps trying 
 to persuade itself that nothing had occurred. And then, 
 getting tired of the monotony of this performance, it began 
 slowly to return to the middle of the pool, while Master 
 Frank pulled in the line through the rings, keeping such 
 strain on as he dared. 
 
 " Reel in, John, reel in ! " he shouted to his henchman 
 underneath— so that the line between the two pieces of the 
 rod should be kept taut. And again : " Let go ! — let go ! " 
 — for the salmon had now taken it into its head to wander 
 away down by the opposite bank, where the water was deep 
 and black-brown under the smooth gray rock. And all this 
 while the fish had not shown itself once : they could form 
 no idea of its possible size. 
 
 " If we ever land this fellow," said young Gordon to his 
 companion, " there'll have to be a poem WTitten about it." 
 
 "Oh, don't talk. Sir Francis, don't talk!" said she, 
 piteously. " Get him ! " 
 
 " Yes, that's all very well," he answered her, coolly 
 enough. " But what control do you suppose I have over 
 him, with this bit of stick ? I wish the Prince had tried 
 his rotten old rod for himself. There must have been a 
 flaw right in the middle — thunder ! " 
 
 This ejaculation, under his breath, was quite inadequate 
 to meet the exigencies of the case ; for what happened now 
 was simply bewildering. The salmon, suddenly resolved 
 upon freeing itself from this vicious thing that had got 
 hold of it, rushed up stream for some dozen yards or so ; 
 then threw itself thrice into the air, in rapid succession, 
 each time coming down with an amazing report ; then it 
 lashed out on the surface — bead and tail going — sides
 
 138 B RISE IS 
 
 gleaming — the churned water flying about in every direction. 
 And stni, through all this, the gray line held 1 — and still it 
 held through subsequent and weariful periods of sulking — 
 and still it held until the fish, roving again, came incau- 
 tiously near the bank and the crouching John Tod ; there 
 was a wary reaching out of the gaff — a quick stroke of the 
 steel — and here, on the stones, lay and struggled a magnifi- 
 cent, brilliant-shining creature — near to thirty pounds, they 
 guessed. Miss Georgie sank down on the heather : she 
 had not breath left for the faintest ' hurrah 1 ' 
 
 There ought to have been a reaction after aU this wild 
 excitement, especially as they were ' far, far frae hame,' 
 with the afternoon wearing on. Nevertheless, as they made 
 their preparations for the return journey, it was with a 
 light heart ; and when at length they set out to seek their 
 way through the woods, and along by the still pools and 
 silver shallows, back to Glen Skean Castle, Miss Georgie 
 had quite recovered her breath and also her considerable 
 powers of speech, while she was unmistakably proud of the 
 share she had taken in this achievement. ' Blithe, blithe, 
 and merry was she ; ' and the evening was fair, and clear, 
 and golden : when they got through the trees and out into 
 the open, they found that the distant hills about Clunes and 
 Glen Loy had become mere roseate transparent films against 
 that glow in the west ; only up by Aouach Mor was there 
 something of a darker bulk and grandeur, in the sterile 
 shadows facing the east. 
 
 " What a story I shall have to teU at dinner to-night 1 " 
 cried Miss Georgie Lestrange, her laughing eyes and cherry 
 lips radiant and smiling. 
 
 Her companion was less enthusiastic. 
 
 " If you're wise," said the young laird of Grantly, to his 
 partner in crime, " you'll keep the whole affair a profound 
 and ghastly secret. And you'll find out how John Tod can 
 smuggle that fish into the kitchen, by some back way."
 
 "WHERE THE DUN DEER LIE'' 139 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 "where the dun deer lie." 
 
 It was the religious scruples of the ]\Iargravine of Pless- 
 Gmunden that threatened to break up the house-party at 
 Glen Skean Castle. For it appeared that a certain youthful 
 Monarch, recently elevated to the throne, had been casting 
 about for a bride ; and as chance would have it, his fancy 
 had fallen on the daughter of the said Margravine — the 
 beautiful Alexia ; the only drawback being that before any 
 formal betrothal could take place it was necessary that the 
 young lady should change her rehgion, or at least the out- 
 ward form of it. She, having a practical turn of mind, was 
 perfectly willing ; but her mother, devote to the last degree, 
 recoiled ; while during this period of suspense a considerable 
 section of the King's ministers were secretly endeavouring to 
 get the match broken off altogether, hoping that their master 
 would form a much more important alliance. Now as the 
 Margravine of Pless-Gmunden and the Princess of Monte- 
 veltro were known to be bosom-friends — indeed they had 
 been so ever since their school-girl days in Dresden — and as 
 the compelling and resolute character of the Princess was 
 also well known, it was but natural that those whose 
 interests favoured the marriage should turn to her, with the 
 idea that her frank remonstrances and her personal influence 
 might induce the hesitating mother to do her duty by her 
 daughter. Hence urgent messages and telegrams — from 
 Buda-Pesth — from Belgrade — from Orsova ; insomuch that 
 the poor lass in the post-office at Skean Bridge, laboriously 
 and mechanically spelhng out the foreign words, had well- 
 nigh taken leave of her wits. 
 
 But on the other hand the Prince was desperately loth to 
 leave, just as the deer-stalking was about to begin. This 
 was the summit of his ambition now : an honest, uncom- 
 promising, legitimate stalk : no blazing into detachments of 
 driven animals — with that he was abundantly familiar ; but 
 an honest piece of circumvention, and skill, and nerve. He 
 thought he could stand the test ; at all events he was 
 anxious to try ; and eventually a compromise was effected
 
 I40 BRISEIS 
 
 between the importunate Princess and her dilatory husband. 
 Ptumours came in one evening of a large stag — a splendid 
 beast of twelve points or more — having been seen in the 
 neighbourhood of the Corrieara burn ; it was arranged that 
 the Prince should attempt his first stalk the next morning ; 
 while on the following day he and the Princess were to set 
 out on their return to eastern Europe — though, to be sure, 
 they were first of all going round by Grantly on Dee-side, 
 to pay at least a few hours' visit to Aunt Jean. 
 
 And thus it was that on this fateful morning, while as yet 
 the great gray building seemed plunged in profoundest 
 slumber, a small procession set forth from the front of the 
 Castle : at its head the red-bearded gillie, Roderick, riding a 
 shaggy brown pony ; then there was the stalwart young lad, 
 Ilughie, on foot, with a bag slung over his shoulder ; and 
 finally came the Prince, mounted on the white mare Maggie, 
 the rein hanging loose on her neck, for Monseigneur was 
 engaged in lighting a cigar to cheer him on his lonely road. 
 And a lonely road it was, when once they had got away from 
 the Castle and had entered upon the solitudes of the forest : 
 oppressively and mournfully silent too, for they had soon 
 left behind them the familiar sounds of the valley — the 
 continuous murmur of the stream, the velvet ' whuff"- 
 whuff ' of the peewit's wings, the startled ' coo-ee ! ' of 
 the long-beaked whaup. None the less was it an auspicious 
 morning. The sky was veiled over by a net-work of silvery- 
 gray, the clouds receding in soft gradations of perspective 
 until they almost seemed massed together over the billowy 
 mountains about Glen Loy ; and if the interstices appeared 
 to be widening — if there were further and further gleams of 
 blue — if the sunlight began to lend a warmer tone to the 
 rose-purple of the heather — still, there was a cool air 
 stirring that promised to temper the heat. Above all, the 
 liiils towards which they were bound were clear to the top ; 
 there was little chance of their being baffled by slow- 
 descending mists. 
 
 What dark premonitions of * buck-ague ' — what stem 
 resolves — what recurrent misgivings — what wild visions of 
 a stag Royal — were now warring with each other in Mon- 
 seigneur's brain it is unnecessary to guess ; perhaps it 
 would have been better for bis nerve if Ronald the head-
 
 ''WHERE THE DUN DEER LIE'' 141 
 
 forester, who was a companionable kind of man, had been 
 with him ; but Eonald had left long before daybreak on 
 a reconnoitring expedition ; and it was to the rendezvous 
 he had appointed that they were now making their way. 
 And so the mute little procession toiled on — across these 
 voiceless wastes of peat-hag, and bog-myrtle, and heather^ 
 until the rude track they were following began gradually to 
 ascend ; and now the wise mare Maggie, craning her neck 
 forward, was left to pick her own footing, for ever and anon 
 the bridle-path would seem to disappear in this rough 
 wilderness of rock and scanty herbage. Up and up they 
 went, into the silences of the hills ; and the higher they got 
 the wider and wider grew the great world beneath them, 
 spreading out on every hand to the horizon, until far in the 
 west the ethereal mountainous ramparts were visible all the 
 way from Ardgour to Glengarry, and in the east the shadows 
 of Ben Alder had become of a pale and clear and perfect 
 ultramarine beyond the undulating, intervening straths. 
 
 Mile after mile they traversed in this fashion — splashing 
 through swampy hollows, and climbing up barren heights — 
 until on the summit of one of these ridges the gillie on the 
 brown pony began to go more warily, with whispered com- 
 munications, in Gaelic, to his companion Hugh. And then 
 of a sudden, as it seemed to the startled eyes of Monseigneur, 
 a man sprung out of the ground — a short, thick-set man, 
 with bushy black eyebrows and extraordinarily clear gray 
 eyes ; and he was shutting up his telescope-case as he 
 stepped forward and touched his cap. 
 
 " Have you seen him ? " said the Prince, eagerly. " Have 
 you seen the big stag ? " 
 
 Ronald answered in a slow, and measured, and depressed 
 manner — as if he were speaking of some calamity that had 
 befallen him or his in bygone times. 
 
 " Yes, I am thinking that. Anyway there's a grand 
 beast, along with a wheen more, on the other side of 
 Ben-na-crasg ; but before we could get to them, they will 
 be lying down, and mebbe they will not be rising to feed 
 again for hours yet. But there's a lot of hinds and two or 
 three small beasts just beyond the water-shed ; and we 
 would be going in that direction whatever. "Will ye please 
 to get down now, Monsenior ? "
 
 142 BRISEIS 
 
 So this was the arrangement, then ? — the two ponies were 
 led oil by the red-bearded gillie towards some unknown 
 destination ; the stalwart young lad put a rifle over each of 
 his shoulders ; the head-forester proceeded to lead the way, 
 Monseigneur obediently following. And little indeed did 
 the hapless Prince know what was now before him. For 
 first they went down these steep and rugged slopes until 
 they reached the glen below ; then they got into a winding 
 channel filled with oozy peat-water, and that they followed 
 for half a mile — sinking into the^ dark brown mud at every 
 step ; then (after vigilant circumspection) they crossed an 
 open piece of morass that was more of a quaking bog than 
 anything else, with patches of bright green that spoke of 
 holes ready to engulf them ; and at last they found com- 
 parative shelter in a rocky ravine, up which they painfully 
 toiled. By this time the spick-and-span attire with which 
 Monseigneur had started away in the morning was in a 
 deplorable condition, and he himself was little better. He 
 was black up to the thighs ; his face was bespattered (for 
 he had stumbled once or twice on hidden stumps and come 
 down heavily) ; his hair was matted and streaming with 
 perspiration ; his long moustache was now all loose and 
 ragged and forlorn. And yet he held on courageously, 
 with never a word of complaint ; now and again he was 
 forced to pause in order to take breath and mop his fore- 
 head, but it was with no thought of remonstrance ; and 
 not once had there even been a suggestion as to the opening 
 of a flask. 
 
 For over an hour not a syllable had been uttered, nor 
 was there any uttered now as the deep-chested forester 
 stopped, took the rifles from Hughie, put cartridges into 
 the barrels, gave one of the weapons to the Prince, retaining 
 the other for himself, while again their laborious onward 
 progress was resumed. Presently, however, after a long 
 and cautious survey of the ground, he left the bed of the 
 ravine, and began to claml)cr up the sheer incline — an 
 operation that was rendered doubly difficult for Monseigneur, 
 for the reason that he, having some one in front of him, 
 was bound to keep his rifle in a transverse position as he 
 clutched and climbed from one stone to another, from one 
 heather-tuft to that just above. And even here the same
 
 " WHERE THE DUN DEER LIE » 143 
 
 overwhelming silence prevailed. A deathlike stillness : not 
 a bird chirped, not a leaf stirred : there was a curious 
 impression that one could hear sounds miles and miles away, 
 only that there were no sounds to listen to, in this forgotten 
 land. And so it was that when aU of a sudden into this 
 mysterious hush and peace there sprang an appalling 
 
 " Brah 1 " 
 surely that was enough to shake the heart of any mortal 
 man ! The terrified Prince grasped the heather to steady 
 himself, and looked up — for the astounding roar or snort 
 seemed to proceed from just over his head ; and there for 
 one wild second he beheld on the sky-line above him an 
 awful creature — a dark creature with large and startled eyes 
 and pricked-up ears — that was intently gazing down upon 
 him. The next instant the apparition had vanished— 
 dissipated itself into air — without a rustle or the patter of 
 a hoof. 
 
 " Was that — a stag ? " Monseigneur gasped, with his 
 heart bumping and thumping as if it would burst out of 
 his chest. 
 
 " Na, na, just a hind," replied the forester, in a low 
 voice. " I was seeing a good big herd of them close by 
 here — and mebbe she'll no have frightened them aweh " 
 
 " Hinds ? — hinds ? " said Monseigneur, with impatience. 
 *' I do not wish to shoot hinds 1 " 
 
 " But there's two or three stags I was seeing as weU — 
 smahl beasts — if Monsenior would try a shot before going 
 on " 
 
 " SmaU — small, did you say ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, indeed, but Monsenior might get an easy 
 shot " 
 
 " Come, come, now, Ronald," the Prince said, impera- 
 tively — for he had not suffered all this indescribable torture 
 in order to waste his attention on ' rubbish ' — " it's the 
 big stag we're after, and nothing else " 
 
 " As ye please, Monsenior," responded Eonald, coolly. 
 "We'll just baud on, then." And therewith their heavy 
 labour was resumed — Monseigneur blindly following, re- 
 solved upon enduring to the end, so long as a breath was 
 left in his body. 
 
 But at length, towards noon, they had arrived at the
 
 Hi B RISE IS 
 
 • ■* 
 
 crest of a hill, or ridge of hills, overlooking a wide extent 
 
 of lonely and featureless country — featureless save for a 
 
 small and sluggish burn that crept noiselessly through these 
 
 sterile wastes ; and here Ronald, lying on his back, and 
 
 balancing his telescope on his knees, began a careful scrutiny 
 
 of the ground. Presently, with his forefinger, he beckoned 
 
 Monseigneur to worm himself up to his side. 
 
 " They're in a terrible bad place " 
 
 " And the big stag ? " the Prince whispered, eagerly. 
 
 "Ay, he's there — he's a bit nearer the bum than the 
 others. Take the glass, Monsenior." 
 
 It was no easy matter to manage this unwonted instru- 
 ment ; but eventually, after long searching, the Prince did 
 come upon the herd — hardly distinguishable from the dun 
 hue of the valley except by reason of their antlers that were 
 here and there in motion, lazily flicking off a fly. All these 
 stags were lying down, out there in the open ; while the 
 monarch of them, of a somewhat darker colour than the 
 others, lay a little distance apart. It was on him, of course, 
 that Monseigneur directed the wavering glass ; and it was 
 in an awestricken kind of fashion that he turned to Ronald 
 with smothered questions as to the chances of their being 
 able to get anywhere near that splendid quarry. 
 
 " They're in a terrible bad place," Ronald repeated, 
 musingly, as he scanned every feature of the country and 
 watched the ' carry ' of every shred of cloud. " But there's 
 no hinds wi' them ; and that's in our favour. And mebbe 
 we could get down to the bed of the burn. Anyway, 
 Monsenior, they'll no be getting up to feed for a good 
 hour or two yet ; and you might as well be having your 
 luncheon." 
 
 A terribly tantalizing meal this was ; and equally tanta- 
 lizing was the period of weary waiting that ensued — while 
 the cold wind of these altitudes was steadily and mercilessly 
 freezing blood and bone. When finally Ronald deemed it 
 prudent to make a move — lying on his back, and pushing 
 himself feet first down the hill-side, — Monseigneur could 
 hardly follow his example, so stiffened had his joints become ; 
 nevertheless he manfully persevered ; and in course of time, 
 by a circuitous route, they managed to rcucli the bed of the 
 stream, where their progression took another and still more
 
 "WHERE THE DUN DEER LIE" US 
 
 astonisinor form. Face down it was now ; and water that 
 runs in at one's neck and chest is colder than any other 
 kind of water. 
 
 More crawling and spying ; and now even the professional 
 Ronald was beginning to betray a little subdued excite- 
 ment, 
 
 " A grand beast I " he muttered, dipping down again 
 from one of those guarded surveys. " Just a famous head I 
 And they're all up and feeding now : if they draw over the 
 ridge, ye ought to have a chance, Monsenior. A grand 
 beast — thirteen or fourteen points, I'm thinking — and a fine 
 span : a noble beast indeed." 
 
 Monseigneur could hardly listen : he knew that the 
 crisis of his life was approaching. And as it happened, at 
 this perilous juncture, they were favoured by singular good 
 fortune ; for as they stealthily got nearer and nearer, 
 slouching along by the bed of the burn, they found that 
 the herd were slowly withdrawing over the ridge, while the 
 big stag, with two smaller ones, seemed rather inclined to 
 keep to the valley. And at last the fateful signal was 
 given. Monseigneur, his head scarcely raised above the 
 sandy grass and the knobs of heather, drew himself forward, 
 pushing his rifle in front of him ; he paused to take breath, 
 for he was like to choke with apprehension ; warily he 
 crawled on again ; and now he could make out a little 
 plateau, russet-hued in the warm afternoon sunlight, and 
 quietly feeding there a magnificent and graceful creature 
 with great wide-branching horns. He raised himself 
 slightly on his elbows. He put the rifle to his shoulder. 
 He tried to steady the trembling barrels ; then he held his 
 breath ; he pulled the trigger — and the dull, soft thud of 
 the bullet into the slope beyond proclaimed that he had 
 missed clean. 
 
 What followed now was so sudden, so unexpected, and so 
 brief that it gave no opportunity for consideration. The 
 stag, alarmed by the loud report, and not seeing where his 
 enemies lay hid, dashed forward, and as luck would have it 
 came galloping directly down upon them. Ronald, having 
 no time to think, thrust his head into the heather, and put 
 his arms round the back of his neck ; Monseigneur — well, 
 Monseigneur did not know what was happening to him, as this 
 
 L
 
 146 BRtSElS 
 
 huge animal came bounding along : the next moment the 
 stag had sprung right over them, and was making straight 
 for the burn. 
 
 " Now, sir ! — now ! " yelled Ronald ; and the bewildered 
 Prince mechanically obeyed — he swung himself round — he 
 took aim — he fired — and the stag was seen to go crashing 
 down, right in the middle of the shallow stream. But 
 again the gallant brute was on his legs — he struggled 
 through the pool — he tried and again tried the opposite 
 bank — and that was the end of him : all at once he lurched 
 heavily on to his knees, and then fell of a heap, apparently 
 stone-dead. The face of Monseigneur was of the colour of 
 vellum. 
 
 The next minute the three men were in the water, 
 splashing their way across to the other side ; but it was 
 Hughie who had first grip of the branching antlers. 
 
 " Fourteen points, sir ! " he called, with a grin. 
 
 " Fourteen points ! — du lieber ! — fourteen — fourteen 
 points ! " And indeed when the Prince got up to the 
 noble prize he had secured (by an infamous fluke) his recent 
 paralysis of consternation completely fell away from him, 
 and he broke into an absolute paroxysm of delight. He 
 went daft. He threw his cap in the air. He was loudly 
 laughing and chuck! kig. " Fourteen points I " he cried — ■ 
 and he also would raise the massive head, to examine and 
 admire. " I tell you, Ptouald, that is fourteen sovereigns 
 in your pocket the moment we get home — and seven in 
 yours, Hughie : so that's a fair day's work for all of us ! 
 A grand beast ? — yes, you were right there, Ronald, you 
 rascal ! And how far away are the ponies now ? — aud 
 will you be able to get him down to the Castle to-night ? 
 Why don't you cry hun-ah, man ? — why don't you cry 
 hurrali ? " 
 
 " Monsenior," said Ronald, shyly, " if there was a smahl 
 tasting of whiskey that no one would be caring for '_' 
 
 Monseigneur got out from the hmcheon-bag his capacious 
 flask. 
 
 " There," said he, with sovereign magnanimity, " take 
 what there is — divide it between you — I shall not want a 
 drop— not a drop. Only, Ronald, I rely on you to get this 
 splendid fellow down to the Castle to-night."
 
 ''WHERE THE DUN DEER LIE'' 147 
 
 It was just about this time of the afternoon that the 
 young laird of Grantly, Miss Georgie Lestrange, and John 
 Tod were returning from a fruitless expedition up the 
 river, and they had arrived at the mouth of the Corrieara 
 burn, when it occurred to Frank Gordon that if Tod were 
 to be sent off home with the fishing impedimenta, these 
 other two — Miss Georgie and himself, that is — might go 
 for a bit of a stroll into the forest to meet the stalking- 
 party on their way back to the Castle. Now there was 
 nothing that the blithe damsel with the pince-nez was not 
 ready for ; the arrangement was forthwith made ; and 
 presently the two of them were scrambling up through 
 bushes and bracken until they were in sight of the vast 
 treeless plain and the surrounding hills. But on the crest 
 she paused, and turned, and in tragic tones she addi-essed 
 the river they were leaving behind them. 
 
 " Farewell, dear, dear stream ! " she said. " Farewell, 
 farewell ! ' No more by thee my steps shall be, forever 
 and forever ! ' " 
 
 " Why ? " asked her more prosaic neighbour. 
 
 " Why ? " she repeated. " Why ? And you leaving 
 to-morrow morning with the Prince and Princess I " 
 
 "Yes, but there's Lady Eockminster," said he. "You 
 could go down to the pools with her." 
 
 "Honnor has lost all her enthusiasm," Miss Georgie 
 replied. " She won't budge a foot while the water's as low 
 as it is at present. And yet I do think it's so jolly to sit 
 on the bank — and eat apples— and watch the big salmon — 
 whether there's any fishing going on or no." By this time 
 they were crossing the morass, making for one of the 
 bridle-tracks leading into the hills. " I say, it's rather nice 
 to be quite by ourselves, isn't it ? " Miss Georgie proceeded, 
 as she picked her steps among the rough heather and peat- 
 hags. " I call it spiffing, don't you ? John Tod is a 
 nuisance. I detest hkn. He's quite unlike the others — 
 don't you think so ? All the others — I mean the Highland 
 keepers, and gillies, and servants — are so reserved and 
 polite, and they have so much quiet self-respect too ; but 
 Tod — Tod considers himself clever, and attempts to make 
 fun of them " 
 
 " Yes," observed her companion, " and a facetious Low- 
 
 L 2
 
 148 S RISE IS 
 
 lander trying to be humorous at the expense of the 
 Highlanders is about the most painful sight that Providence 
 permits in this unfortunate universe." 
 
 " And his imitations — imitations, indeed ! ' Her nainsel's 
 a shentlemans ' : did ever any one hear a Highlander talk 
 like that ? " Miss Georgie demanded, indignantly. 
 
 " Stop, stop I " he cried, laughing. " So far I have 
 refrained " 
 
 " Refrained from what ? ^ 
 
 " From throwing him into the river. You see, it's a 
 delicate matter. If he were your own gillie, a ducking in 
 the Priest's Bridge pool might have an excellent effect on 
 his little pleasantries " 
 
 They had now struck upon the rude bridle-path, and 
 could continue their route without paying so much attention 
 to their footsteps. And if as yet they could make out no 
 sign of the return of the stalking-party, they wandered on 
 very contentedly through this golden evening, the still air 
 aroimd them sweetened with the honey-fragrance of the 
 heather and the resinous perfume of the bog-myrtle. 
 Already, among the lonely corries of Aonach Mor, shadows 
 of a wan and pale purple were beginning to draw over ; 
 but far in the west the heavens were all aglow ; and the 
 hills around Glen Loy had become almost transparent — 
 they seemed like huge phantom billows receding outwards 
 and outwards to the sea. 
 
 It was a wild and solitary scene ; and the silence was 
 impressive ; but Miss Georgie Lestrange did not allow 
 herself to be overawed. She was laughing, talking, jesting, 
 with occasional little touches of pensive sentiment ; and if 
 there was any mischief in her mind, her manner betrayed 
 nothing but a demure and attractive innocence. 
 
 " Where can those people be ? " he kept asking ; but her 
 eyes refused to foUow his to the distant slopes and heights : 
 she seemed to care as little for the return of the stalkers as 
 she did for the shadows slowly gathering on Aonach Mor. 
 
 "Say now. Sir Francis," she proceeded, "wouldn't you 
 like a httle souvenir — a souvenir that might sometimes 
 recall to you the happy days we have spent on the banks of 
 the Skean ? I've been thinking, you know. Do you 
 remember telling me about the keeper on the Awe, who
 
 ''WHERE THE DUN DEER LIE'' 149 
 
 wanted to dress a new salmon-fly, and part of the dressing 
 he used was a bit of red hair from the head of a girl in the 
 neighbourhood ? Awfully clever of him, wasn't it ? And 
 the fly turned out successful, didn't you say ? Didn't they 
 call it the ' Highland Lassie ' ? " 
 
 He was hardly heeding her — so intent was his scrutiny of 
 the remote undulations and gullies. 
 
 " They must have gone back by some other way," he 
 said, "unless they've had a long chase after a wounded 
 stag." 
 
 But her next abrupt question brought him to his 
 senses. 
 
 " Is my hair red enough ? " she demanded. 
 
 "Miss Georgie," said he, reprovingly, "questions like 
 that provoke indiscreet answers. Your hair isn't red. 
 I daren't say what I think it is — because you would think 
 me impertinent." 
 
 " Is it red enough to put on a salmon-fly ? " she perse- 
 vered. " Because, if it is, you're quite welcome to cut off 
 as much as would dress three or four flies ; and then, in 
 days to come, you know, you might think of the happy 
 times on the Skean." 
 
 He did not accept her invitation : he was frightened. 
 
 " You don't happen to have a pair of scissors ? " she 
 asked nest, in an off-hand way. " I think I saw a small 
 pair — in your fly-book " 
 
 "Well, yes, I have," he admitted. "But I couldn't 
 clip off any of your hair — it would be a disfigurement " 
 
 " Not at all," she insisted. " Have you your fly-book in 
 your pocket ? Yery weU ; take out the scissors. Behind 
 the ears, don't you understand — underneath — you can 
 easily snip bits that wiU never be noticed." 
 
 "But really," said he, "I — I could not take such a 
 liberty " 
 
 " It appears to me," she said, proudly, " that I am as 
 much entitled to have a salmon-fly called after me as any 
 red-headed girl at Taynuilt. Why not the ' English Lassie ' 
 as well as the ' Highland Lassie ' ? " 
 
 WeU, his fingers were not very steady as he took out the 
 scissors and set about this unnerving task ; and he was 
 extremely modest in the exactions he made on those ruddy-
 
 ISO BRISEIS 
 
 ffolden wisps and tangles that curled and clustered about 
 her milk-white neck ; but at length he had put the tiny 
 quantities together, and carefully smoothed them, and with 
 a religious care had placed them in one of the pockets of 
 his fly-book. She, also, seemed to be satisfied as they 
 resumed their walk. 
 
 " The ' English Lass,' " she repeated, lightly. " But no 
 names, mind — no names — should any stranger be turning 
 over the leaves of your fly-book. A secret is between two. 
 And you can write and tell me if I have brought you any 
 luck." 
 
 MeanwhUe there was no trace of the stalkers ; and the 
 golden glow in the west was paling ; a strange, clear, 
 metallic-hued twilight was stealing over the land. 
 
 " Come, we must get away back now," he said to her, 
 with something more of authority ; and she was obedient ; 
 so they turned and set out for the Castle — the gray 
 towers of which were just visible above the belt of dark 
 green firs. 
 
 And yet their solitary walk home was not to be without 
 an adventure, of its kind. As they were following this 
 rough track across the wild moorland, he stopped of a 
 sudden, and began to peer earnestly into the mysterious 
 dusk. 
 
 " Do you see them ? " he whispered. 
 
 Her eyes took the direction indicated ; and as they grew 
 more and more accustomed to the faint haze hanging over 
 the russet-brown of the plain, she could make out certain 
 spectral creatures, that were apparently motionless. But 
 they were not quite motionless ; and as she gazed they 
 grew more and more distinct — seven hinds and a stag, 
 quietly feeding, .and wholly unconscious of the presence of 
 any stranger. 
 
 " Stand where you are, and watch," he whispered to her 
 again, " and I will see how near I can get to them." 
 
 Thereupon he set out to crouch and steal along by the 
 deeper of the peat-hags, this being the only method of 
 approach possible, the deer feeding right out in the open. 
 Of course, if he had been engaged on a real, instead of an 
 imaginary, stalk, he would have crawled along serpent-wise, 
 shoving his rifle before him ; but he was only making a
 
 ''WHERE THE DUN DEER LIE'' 151 
 
 little experiment, out of curiosity, and perhaps hoping to 
 interest the solitary onlooker. 
 
 And still the children of the mist remained unsuspicious 
 of any danger, so that he had ample opportunity of watching 
 them and admiring their elegant proportions and graceful 
 movements. Then, after a while, he rose to his full height. 
 At that, one of the hinds, standing some distance apart from 
 the others, suddenly tossed up her small head, pricked her 
 ears, and ' glowered ' at him. She stared for about three 
 seconds ; then, with her slender legs scarce seeming to 
 touch the heath, she tripped lightly across to her comrades, 
 and turned, and stared again. But by this time they were 
 all of them on the alert ; even the stolid stag had raised his 
 antlered head and shaggy neck, and was fixedly regarding 
 the intruder. This was the point Frank Gordon had sought 
 to reach ; and so long as he remained perfectly still, moving 
 neither hand nor foot, they also were immobile, the group 
 of up-thrown heads strikingly picturesque in the dim twilight. 
 He knew what would happen next. The moment he turned 
 away to rejoin his companion, they were off like arrows from 
 a bow, and almost instantly had disappeared in the pale 
 blue mists lying along the base of the hills. 
 
 Miss Georgie he found seated on a clump of heather, her 
 face somewhat averted : had she not been watching the 
 deer, then, after all ? She rose as he approached, and they 
 at once set out on their homeward way. 
 
 " A pretty sight, wasn't it ? " he said. 
 
 There was no answer. 
 
 " Didn't the stag look grand when he threw up his antlers 
 and stared ? " he continued. 
 
 " Yes — I suppose so " 
 
 There was something unusual in her tone. He ventured 
 to cast a sidelong glance towards her ; and to his amazement 
 discovered she had been crying. 
 
 " Why, what is it ? " said he, stopping short. " What is 
 the matter ? " 
 
 " It is nothing," she said, in a low and choked voice. 
 " Only — this is the last day of our being together — and — 
 and I have been looking back — and I know what you must 
 think of me." 
 
 " If you knew what I think of you," he said, gravely,
 
 152 BRISK IS 
 
 *' it would be nothing for you to cry over. I should hope 
 not 1 " 
 
 " Ah, but I do know — I do know ! " she said, vehemently ; 
 and then she went on in a kind of half-reckless, half- 
 despairing fashion : " Well, we've come to the end of the 
 game ! — the play is played out ! — and if you go away now 
 thinking me bad and wicked, it's no more than I deserve. 
 Sometimes— I thought I would try to amuse you — but — • 
 but a plaything is easily cast aside — and forgotten. Easily 
 enough — it is easy to throw aside — a plaything — and serves 
 her right " 
 
 She burst into tears, and broke away from him, and hid 
 her face. But he took her hand, and put both of his round 
 it, and held it, as though he would convey to her some 
 pacifying, some reassuring influence. 
 
 " I don't in the least understand you," he said, soothingly. 
 " Why, what can you have to reproach yourself with — you 
 of all people ! ■" 
 
 " Oh, don't speak to me so ! " she sobbed. " I have seen 
 all along that you are not like the rest — you are so unselfish 
 • — and forgiving — and generous — and that made it all the 
 worse. Never mind ! Think of me — what you please : 
 you will soon forget " 
 
 She raised her eyes, tear-filled and piteous, to his ; and 
 then somehow — who shall say at whose instigation or under 
 what mad, uncontrollable impulse ? — somehow their lips 
 met, in a passionate, delirious kiss. And so two lives were 
 signed away. 
 
 There was no further speech between them just then. 
 Perhaps his brain was overmastered by the wild wonder and 
 joy of this unexpected — and unthought-of — conquest and 
 possession ; as for her, her maiden fears and vague alarms 
 and foreshadowings might well hold her in silence at such a 
 crisis. They passed through the grounds and entered the 
 Castle : in the hall, as they were about to go their several 
 ways, she once more raised her eyes to his, and there was 
 the strangest wistfulncss and questioning in them, lie saw 
 her no more that night.
 
 NORTH AND SOUTH 153 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 NORTH AND SOUTH. 
 
 The tall limes and the serried firs were black as ebony 
 against the dark, clear skies ; but when, having slipped out 
 from the Castle immediately after dinner, Frank Gordon 
 had passed through this belt of trees and entered upon the 
 solitudes of the forest, a faint, spectral, gray mist lay over 
 all the land ; while a full white moon was sailing through 
 the clouds that hung in shreds above the sombre vastness of 
 Ben-na-Yan. The air was moist and scented with the 
 odour of the sweet-gale. There was no sound but the soft 
 sh— sh — sh of the distant river ; though once he heard a 
 strange cry overhead — the call of some unseen sea-bird to its 
 mate on their way out to the western main. With his head 
 bent somewhat forward, and his hands in his pockets, he 
 strode slowly on, in no wise dreaming what a terrible 
 necessity it was that drove him to argue with himself, and 
 prove to himself, that he was the very happiest and luckiest 
 man in the whole realm of England. 
 
 And yet he was able to convince himself, easily and 
 triumphantly enough. Why, where could he have found 
 such another prize .? Here — amid these mysterious wastes 
 • — in the wan moonlight — he could summon up a vision of 
 her, with all her brightness, her winsomeness, her gay 
 humour, her happy-go-lucky disposition overbrimming with 
 merriment and audacious good-comradeship ; and he thought 
 of the radiance, and colour, and sunlight she would intro- 
 duce into the dull old rooms of Grantly Castle. Never- 
 theless — nevertheless — there was something else haunting 
 him that he could neither understand nor wholly dismiss. 
 Middle age, surveying the future, counts by years, and has 
 a fairly clear perception of limits. Youth, on the other 
 hand, sees nothing but a succession of eternities, filled with 
 boundless possibilities of fascination and glamour ; and when 
 the young man or the young woman, pressing forward into 
 this unknown and entrancing world, is suddenly brought up, 
 as it were, by some crisis that speaks of finality, the shock is
 
 154 BRISK IS 
 
 apt to be startling. No doubt young Gordon, as he could 
 conclusively prove to himself, was the happiest of men ; but 
 his amazing good luck had been sprung upon him somewhat 
 unexpectedly ; and he was bewildered ; and perhaps a trifle 
 afraid. There were to be no more vague wanderings and 
 imaginings, then ? — no more pensive questioning of eyes 
 in the dusk of London conservatories ? — no timid, half- 
 wistful words during a homeward stroU through the June 
 lanes ? It was aU fixed and final now ; and there was 
 nothing for him but to assure himself, for the hundred-and- 
 fiftieth time, that his auspicious fortune was immeasurably 
 greater than he deserved. 
 
 Of a sudden, far away in the gloom lying over the 
 Corrieara burn, he perceived a red spark of fire, and he 
 paused, wondering. That could be no wiU-o'-the-wisp, for 
 the Corrieara burn comes down through rocky altitudes ; 
 besides, the light was crimson, not an opalescent blue. 
 Who, then, could be traversing this voiceless country at 
 such an hour of the night ? And then he began to recall 
 the events of the day — which had been entirely driven from 
 his mind by recent agitations. This must be the stalking- 
 party come home at last. He pushed forward. Presently, 
 emerging from the profound shadows under Ben-na-Van he 
 beheld the small procession — the Prince riding in front, and 
 smoking a cigar ; then the second pony, with the slain stag 
 bound on to its back, Ronald walking by its head, and 
 Hughie keeping him company. It was a picturesque little 
 group that came out of the mirk into the soft wan radiance 
 of the moonlight ; but Monseigneur was not thinking of 
 that ; the moment he saw who the stranger was, he pulled 
 up his pony, and slid to the ground. 
 
 " Here, Ronald," he cried, " you take a turn in the 
 saddle ; you've had a long day of it." And then he eagerly 
 caught his step-son by the arm. "Frank, my boy, I've 
 something to show you — the grandest fourteen-poiuter that's 
 been taken in this forest for many a year 1 What d'you 
 think of that, now ? — and my first stalk 1 Look here — 
 man, look 1 — ^look at the span of them ! — what do you call 
 these for points, eh ? And you don't think they'll have 
 gone to bed when we get back to the Castle ? — no, no, 
 surely not 1 — I've waited with the men on purpose, to make
 
 NORTH AND SOUTH 155 
 
 certain we should get the stag home — and they can't have 
 gone to bed — the ladies must come to the hall door — Frank, 
 honour bright, now, isn't it a splendid head 1 " 
 
 " It's a fine head," said Frank Gordon, absently : his 
 mind had been full of other things. And yet, when the 
 stalkers resumed their journey — Monseigneur now on foot 
 — young Gordon was not loth to have the whole story of 
 the wild day's sport dinned into his ears. Having proved 
 to himself all that he wished to prove, it might be wiser to 
 accept that conclusion once and for ever. Why pay heed 
 to any lurking doubts or dim forebodings ? So he tramped 
 along silently, listening to the wondrous and excited tale ; 
 and even in the smoking-room, later on, Monseigneur's 
 astonishing adventures so monopolised the talk that the 
 preoccupation of any single member of the party was not 
 likely to be observed. 
 
 Between one and two o'clock in the morning, while he 
 was still lying broad awake, he heard a slight rustling noise 
 somewhere in his room, and paid little attention to it, 
 thinking it but the patient endeavours of a mouse ; the 
 next moment, however, there was a knock at the door — a 
 single rap — and thereafter he thought he could detect the 
 faint sound of retreating footsteps. At once he reached up 
 his hand and turned on the electric light ; and then, 
 looking about, he saw that a white envelope had been 
 passed underneath the door and was lying conspicuously 
 enough on the smooth parquetry. He was not long in 
 possessing himseK of this missive ; and a very strange 
 document it turned out to be — written in pencil, and 
 incoherently scrawled over several sheets of paper. 
 
 * You wUl be going away early in the morning, and there 
 will be all the people about ; I cannot take leave of yon 
 that way. Frank, I did try to tell you something this 
 evening ; but I could not tell you everything ; you would 
 have thought too hardly of me. And all the same I deserve 
 whatever you may choose to think of me ; but then it 
 began with my wishing to amuse you ; and there were too 
 many opportunities for mischief — too many opportunities — ■ 
 and I was silly — and of course you despise me — and I 
 haven't a word to say in my defence. Only, it wasn't all
 
 156 BRISEIS 
 
 mischief — Frank, you will believe that ! — I declare on my 
 honour that what happened to-night was honest and straight, 
 whatever it may lead to — / swear to you I wasn't shamming 
 then. You will believe me, Frank, won't you ? I don't 
 mean about the clipping of my hair — that ivas nonsense — I 
 confess to that. For I put your fly-book with the scissors 
 into my pocket when Johnnie left us at the Corrieara burn ; 
 and then I pretended to find it, and gave it to you to carry, 
 so that you would have a pair of scissors in your pocket 
 when I offered to let you cut my hair. Think of me what 
 you please ; but that's the truth ; and there's lots more I 
 could tell you ; only a girl doesn't like to demean herself 
 too^ much ; and besides, you are going away. But the other 
 thing — what followed — was true : oh, Frank, you surely 
 won't imagine I was shamming then ! I know I have been 
 wicked — for the sake of fun ; ever since my brother Percy 
 went to Florida, I've been left to my own guidance, and 
 maybe Fve gone over the line a bit now and again ; but if 
 you would only consider this, that perhaps I may prove truer 
 in the long run than some of your serious ones, that have 
 such high and exalted notions. No, I won't even say that ; 
 I have my pride too ; you may despise me as much as ever 
 you like — and I can take it — and no one will find me com- 
 plain. But, Frank, it wasn't all shamming — it was not aU 
 shamming — you won't believe that of me I Or perhaps you 
 think I would let myself be kissed by anybody ? I know 
 what men — some men, I mean — imagine about women. 
 Very well. Think it, and welcome. 1 don't care. Why 
 should I care ? Frank — Frank — I don't know what I'm 
 saying — and that's the truth ; but you're not like the 
 others ; you are so generous and forgiving — and perhaps — ■ 
 perhaps—you'll be a little merciful in judging. And please 
 don't write — that would only frighten me ; just say ' Good- 
 bye' the minute before you kart — and I shall under- 
 stand. G.' 
 
 Indeed he had no wish to judge harshly — or to judge at 
 all — this poor distracted lass, who seemed to be Buffering 
 BO acutely on account of her venial sins. Mischief ? — the 
 playfulness of a kitten 1 This scrawled letter, he could see 
 easily enough, was honest through and through. It was
 
 NORTH AND SOUTH 157 
 
 eV6n pathetic in its way. What could he do or say to 
 reassure her — in that brief second before the driving off of 
 the four-in-hand ? 
 
 "Well, it was little more than a moment he had with 
 her on the next morning ; for amidst the bustle of packing 
 the luggage she did not put in an appearance ; and reluc- 
 tantly he was almost about to mount into the brake when 
 she came timidly forth from the porch. 
 
 "Good-bye," said she, offering him her hand, her eyes 
 cast to the ground. 
 
 " Good-bye," said he, much more cheerfully ; and then 
 he added in an undertone : " Don't let your head get filled 
 with these absurd fancies. It isn't the least like you ! " 
 
 " Will you write to me ? " she said, and she managed to 
 raise her eyes a little bit. 
 
 " Of course — as soon as we reach Grantly," he made 
 answer ; and then he said good-bye again ; and got into 
 the brake — hoping that no one had noticed that not pro- 
 tracted farewell. 
 
 For he had resolved upon keeping this all too happy 
 secret to himself, in the mean time at least, although his 
 mother was on the point of leaving England ; and not even 
 when they had arrived at Grantly, and when he had private^ 
 speech with his old confidante, Jean Gordon, did he utter 
 a word as to the prospective change in his life. It was 
 Miss Jean who had news for him — news that startled him 
 not a little. 
 
 "Frankie," said she to him, when the Prince and 
 Princess had gone away to their own apartments to pre- 
 pare for dinner, " do you remember an old gentleman, a 
 botanist, and his niece, a Greek girl, who came out here 
 last May ? " 
 
 " Do I remember ! " he repeated. " Why, how often 
 have I asked you about them ? And never once have I 
 thought of them without remorse " 
 
 " Eemorse ? " she said, staring. 
 
 " Eemorse — and nothing else," he said. And then he 
 went on quite bitterly : " That I should brag to them of 
 Dee-side hospitality 1 ' Come as soon as you can, and stay 
 as long as you can ; and that's a Dee-side welcome ' ! Dec- 
 side hospitality ! — a cutlet, a glass of claret, and a shake of
 
 158 B RISE IS 
 
 the hand at the door — that's Dee-side hospitality ; and yoa 
 let them go out into the world again — strangers to the 
 country — and you never see them again " 
 
 " My dear Frank, what more could you have done ! " 
 Aunt Jean protested. " You were leaving for London the 
 same night " 
 
 " If I could find them now," said he, warmly, " I would 
 at least try to do something to redeem my promise. We 
 may be what you like on Dee-side, but anyway we do not 
 brag of our hospitality, and then sneak out " 
 
 "Frank," said Jean Gordon, gravely, "you need not 
 speak of those two as being together any more. The poor 
 old man died quite shortly after their visit here — I fancy 
 they left Sanchory the next day or the day after — and went 
 in to Aberdeen. Indeed it's a pitiable story : I would have 
 written to you, but I knew you were coming through." 
 
 For now it appeared that Aunt Jean, having occasion to 
 dine with some friends of hers in the Granite City, had by 
 accident met Mr. Murray, the Edinburgh lawyer who had 
 had the settlement of poor old John Elliott's worldly affairs ; 
 and by further accident he had begun to tell Miss Jean 
 Gordon something about the old botanist and his niece, 
 when she grew intensely interested, explaining that she had 
 ' already met these two, out at Grantly. So she got all the 
 particulars which the Edinburgh W. S. could furnish ; and 
 these in turn she now communicated to young Frank 
 Gordon, who seemed unusually perturbed. 
 
 " Her aunt — a Mrs. Elliott — Devonshire Place ? " he 
 repeated. " And he fears she has been made into a kind of 
 household drudge ? Aunt Jean, I will go and see her the 
 moment I get to London ! " 
 
 "My dear Frank," said the kindly but practical Miss 
 Jean, " what could you do ? How could you interfere ? — 
 even if all that Mr. Murray says is true — and he judged 
 merely by one or two casual visits he had to pay on business. 
 You can't go rescuing distressed young ladies " 
 
 " Dee-side hospitality ! " he said, with returning bitter- 
 ness. " And the girl is allowed to go away into a big and 
 friendless town like Aberdeen — and the poor old man dies 
 — of a broken heart, as I guess — and then she is taken 
 away to London — among strangers Well, Aunt Jean, I
 
 NORTH AND SOUTH 159 
 
 am not in the habit of rescuing distressed young ladies — it's 
 not my hne — I know nothing about it ; but as soon as ever 
 I get to London I'm going to call on her — and perhaps 
 make some little apology — and show a little sympathy, at 
 all events — and I don't care who says I shouldn't." 
 
 " Frank Gordon, ye're a wiKul laddie," said Aunt Jean, 
 shaking her head ; and she rose, for the dressing-bell had 
 rung. But all the same she lingered at the door for a 
 second ; and she added, in a sort of shy way : " Well, 
 Frankie, if you're saying a kindly word to the ghl, you might 
 just put in another one as coming from me." 
 
 Dinner over, he got away to his own room, to write to 
 Miss Georgie Lestrange ; and this he found to be not such 
 a desperate business, after all. It was a good-natured, 
 simple, natural sort of letter, without any melancholic 
 appeals or poetic sentiment. He made fun of her con- 
 fessions and her self-reproaches. He was earnest in begging 
 for all of her photographs she might have with her ; and 
 he gave her the address of his chambers in Jermyn Street, 
 whither they might be sent. He wanted to know when 
 she was likely to return to London, explaining that he 
 would very soon be thrown on his own resources there, for his 
 mother was extremely anxious to get hold of the hesitating 
 Margravine of Pless-Gmunden, and the probability was that 
 she and the Prince would not remain in town beyond a few 
 days. Would she (that is, Miss Georgie) renew his thanks 
 to Lady Rockminster for the pleasant time he had spent at 
 Glen Skean Castle ; and would she wiite and tell him what 
 luck Sir Hugh was having with the stags. A friendly 
 letter, without pretence or affectation of any sort. Only, he 
 experienced some little sense of relief when he had got it 
 finished, and when the envelope was sealed and directed. 
 
 On the very next day the Prince and Princess of j\Ioute- 
 veltro left Aberdeen for the south, travelling up to London 
 by the night mail from Perth ; and on their arrival in town 
 they drove to Brown's Hotel, while young Gordon went to 
 his rooms in Jermyn Street, which he kept in permanency. 
 Then, when he had thrown into the fire the circulars 
 awaiting him, there came breakfast — the newspapers — 
 dressing ; following which he went out to purchase for 
 himself a tall hat, an umbrella, a pair of gloves, and onp or
 
 i6o BRISK IS 
 
 two similar articles not usually worn on Dee-side ; and 
 presently he found himself, all properly equipped and 
 arrayed, with the whole of London to choose from, on this 
 cool, bright, sunny morning. He had no particular plans. 
 He thought he would stroll up Bond Street, and look at 
 the latest photographs of the popular actresses. Then he 
 went round to Brown's Hotel ; but the Prince and Princess 
 had already gone out — they had to make the most of their 
 brief stay. Finally, having absolutely nothing else to do, 
 he wandered on towards Regent's Park, with some vague 
 idea of getting a glimpse at the house in Devonshire Place 
 where sooner or later he should have to call at a more 
 reasonable hour. 
 
 It was a large house, amid houses still larger and of 
 considerable pretensions ; and he casually noticed that it 
 might have been improved as to its outer appearance had 
 the pots of flowers aud shrubs in the balcony of the first- 
 floor windows been a trifle less dingy. But of course he 
 could not stare ; some one might be looking out — perhaps 
 even Briseis Valieri herself ; so he aimlessly passed on — 
 possibly thinking in idle fashion of a certain spring morning 
 on the banks of Dee — of the speedwells and gorse around 
 the foot of the massive Scotch firs — of the shimmering 
 sunlight on the rippling stream — of a tall, aud slim, and 
 graceful stranger who seemed to come to him out of the 
 unknown, with her great, dark eyes smiling, not with 
 embarrassment. He was thus sauntering on, rather blindly, 
 perhaps, when in turning into the Marylebone Road he 
 very nearly ran into what seemed to him a perambulator 
 that was being shoved along by the customary nursemaid. 
 
 " I beg your pardon," a voice said to him. 
 
 " I beg your pardon," he said in reply ; and he raised his 
 hat slightly — for he was of Highland birth and blood, and 
 liis native courtesy did not distinguish between a housemaid 
 and anybody else. 
 
 But the next moment something happened. 
 
 " Miss Valieri I " he exclaimed. 
 
 " Sir Francis ? " she said — a little surprised, but in no 
 wise disconcerted. 
 
 The small lad in the Bath chair looked wonderingly from 
 the one to the other.
 
 NORTH AND SOUTH l6i 
 
 " I was so sorry to hear of the sad news," the sim-tanncd 
 young gentleman said — and he turned and walked with her, 
 for they could not block up the pavement. " I did not 
 know until the day before yesterday. We were always 
 expecting to see you and your uncle again at Grantly ; and 
 I wrote several times to Aunt Jean — you remember her — 
 and she could not learn where you had gone. It troubled 
 me more than you can imagine — ^for we were hoping to see 
 or hear of you again — and you must have considered us s© 
 neglectful " 
 
 " Indeed, no, Sir Francis," Briseis said, in rather a low 
 voice. " My uncle was taken iU almost as soon as we 
 reached Aberdeen ; and of course there was nothing else to 
 be thought of " 
 
 " It was only the day before yesterday that I got 
 your London address," he continued ; " I came up to 
 town this morning — and I had been proposing to call on 
 
 you " 
 
 " Sir Francis," said she, " may I introduce to you my 
 cousin Adalbert ? " 
 
 (C 
 
 How do you do ? " said the little gentleman in the 
 Bath chair, and he held out his thin, blue-veined hand. 
 " I suppose you are Sir Francis Gordon. Cousin Briseis 
 has told me all about the claymores and the targes in the 
 haU at Grantly Castle." 
 
 " And are you interested in such things ? " said young 
 Gordon, in a kindly way. 
 
 " Oh, yes, yes," the lad made answer, eagerly. 
 
 "Very weU. Some day or other, when I get back 
 to the north, I will look out one or two and send them 
 up to you. They're rather picturesque things in a hall, 
 you know." 
 
 By this time they were in Devonshire Place ; and from 
 one of the ground-floor windows a middle-aged, sandy- 
 haired woman, with careworn face and tired eyes, was 
 looking out. The moment she saw the Bath chair, she left 
 the window, and hurried to the front door — for that would 
 save summoning up one of the servants. The lame boy's 
 crutches she had also brought into the hall. 
 
 " Shall I lend you a hand ? " young Gordon said to this 
 unfortunate chap ; aud he got him out, and helped him up 
 
 M
 
 1 62 B RISE IS 
 
 the steps, and deposited him on the landing. Then he 
 turned to see why Briseis had not followed. Briseis was 
 tugging and straining at the Bath chair, and evidently 
 dealing with a difficult job ; so the next moment he was 
 down at the pavement again ; he quietly put her aside ; 
 and with one arm (only this was the arm accustomed to the 
 casting of a 38-yard line) he had hauled the chair right up 
 to the door. It was an unusual way of arriving at any 
 one's house ; and great was the distress of Mrs. Elliott on 
 learning — through Briseis's introduction — that the stranger 
 who had thus played the part of footman was Sir Francis 
 Gordon of Grantly. 
 
 " I am so sorry," she said, almost breathlessly ; " — so 
 stupid for no one to be about — and my niece is so indepen- 
 dent — she is always for doing everything herself. Briseis 
 has told me. Sir Francis, how kind you were to her and my 
 poor dear brother-in-law when they were in the north ; 
 and though we cannot offer you Highland hospitality — still, 
 if you wouldn't mind an informal invitation — we shall be 
 having luncheon almost directly — and it would be a great 
 pleasure. Sir Francis, to us all " 
 
 Nay, she pressed him ; for this poor woman was ever 
 conscious of her dear girls, and of the letters they would 
 send home to their parents ; moreover, might she not 
 secure Sir Francis Gordon of Grantly for her reception on 
 the following Saturday evening — to add a little lustre to 
 that rare and rather expensive form of advertisement ? 
 She was persuasive ; and the smiling, timid eyes of the 
 Greek girl plainly said ' Oh, yes, why not ? ' ; so he assented 
 without more ado. 
 
 " This way. Sir Francis," said the widow, conducting him 
 along the hall and up stairs to the drawing-room. " I fear 
 you will find us rather untidy ; for we have all been busy 
 making things for dear Lady Hammersley's fancy bazaar — 
 in aid of her Mission to Draymen, you know. Briseis," she 
 continued, as they entered the room — which appeared to 
 contain a perfectly riotous assemblage of half -dressed dolls, 
 unfinished pen-wipers, and embroidered pillow-slips — " do 
 remove some of these things — put them on the piano — 
 anywhere out of sight : the fact is, Sir Francis, my dear 
 girls are so indefatigable in the cause of charity that some-
 
 ; NORTH AND SOUTH 163 
 
 times they hurry on from one task to another. And, 
 Briseis, if you would be so kind as to tell Olga and Brenda, 
 and the young ladies, to come in here on their way down 
 to lunch ? I do hope everything is ready ; for we must 
 not keep Sir Francis waiting." 
 
 Sir Francis had now the honour of being presented to, 
 in succession, the five young ladies of this establishment ; 
 for the rumour had flown from room to room that a 
 baronet had descended among the sons and daughters of 
 men ; and they flocked in out of curiosity, if with no more 
 ambitious aims. But Briseis ? She did not appear with 
 them. He guessed — for he remembered certain hints he 
 had received from Aunt Jean as coming from Mr. Murray 
 — that Briseis had gone down stairs to see that luncheon 
 was in proper trim ; and he guessed rightly. 
 
 He was further confirmed in his sm-mise when they had 
 all trooped down to the dining-room, and taken their 
 places. Here he was introduced to Edward the medical 
 student; and conceived no liking for 'that cadaverous and 
 sardonic youth ; especially as he began to notice that his 
 playful little sarcasms were mostly levelled at Briseis. She 
 ■ — gracious, sweet, apparently well pleased with all the 
 world — did not seem to mind. She settled the lame boy 
 more comfortably in his chair. She fetched the bread-tray, 
 and forked out a piece for each : the solitary maid-servant 
 could not see to everything, Mrs, Elliott's conversation 
 (between anxious glances directed hither and thither) was 
 chiefly about the old families o£- Scotland ; and she man- 
 aged to intimate to young Gordon of Grantly (what he 
 knew already) that she and her surroundings were con- 
 nected with the Elliotts of the Lea. 
 
 Then, when they had all been served with hot or cold, 
 the parlourmaid left the room, and for some reason or 
 another did not immediately return, Mrs, Elliott grew 
 more and more embarrassed and disconnected in her 
 replies ; for all the glasses were empty — there was not even 
 a jug of water on the table. At last, growing desperate, 
 she said — 
 
 " Briseis — would you mind — I think Agnes has been 
 detained — would you mind handing round the sherry and 
 claret ? " 
 
 M 2
 
 i64 BRTSETS 
 
 With the utmost cheerfulness and complacency Briseis 
 Yalieri got up from her seat, went to the sideboard, and 
 possessed herself of the two decanters. 
 
 " ' Serva Briseis, niveo colore,' " murmured the medical 
 student, with a bit of a snigger ; and whoever may or may 
 not have caught the phrase, young Gordon did, and thought 
 (with angry eyes) that he would remember. It might be 
 the beginning of a score. 
 
 Meanwhile Briseis, having got hold of the wine, was 
 naturally returning to the chief guest of the occasion, to 
 proffer the usual question. But Frank Gordon had been 
 inwardly chafing and fretting ; there was a flush on his 
 forehead ; besides, he was a ' self-willed laddie,' as Aunt 
 Jean had called him. And so, on Briseis drawing near, he 
 abruptly rose from his place. 
 
 " Will you allow me ? " he said ; and he took the 
 decanters from her ; and deliberately went round the table, 
 asking each which he or she preferred, until at length he 
 reached the medical student. There he planked down the 
 two decanters, without any question at all. 
 
 " Oh, Sir Francis," said the poor widow, " how could you 
 give yourself so much trouble ? I'm sure I don't know 
 what servants are coming to nowadays : I'm always changing 
 them — and changing for the worse, I think." 
 
 After luncheon they returned to the drawing-room ; and 
 as Briseis at once set to work on the unfinished knick- 
 knacks for the fancy bazaar, while the other girls devoted 
 themselves to such desultory occupations as allowed thera 
 covertly to scrutinise the handsome young gentleman from 
 the north, Mrs. Elliott had her visitor all to herself. And 
 at once she plunged in medias res. 
 
 " I hope, Sir Francis," she said, in her most winning way 
 (the poor, tired woman, with the almost hopeless eyes !) 
 " that you are not engaged on Saturday evening. We have 
 a few friends coming — these dear girls we have with us 
 must have a little society to lighten their studies — and I 
 am sure you would be charmed with Lady Hammersley — 
 she is so bright and clever, and has known so many famous 
 persons in her time. She has not definitely promised, it is 
 true," the widow continued— for she preserved her honesty 
 even amid«t these many and sore perplexities and trials —
 
 NORTH AND SOUTH 165 
 
 " but when she sees all these things we have been making 
 for her bazaar, I am sure she won't refuse ; and I am sure 
 you would be charmed with her " 
 
 " Oh, but, Mrs. Elliott," said the young man, modestly, 
 " you need not offer me any inducements. I shall be 
 delighted to come if I can ; the only thing is, that my 
 movements at present depend on my mother and the Prince 
 — I don't know when they may be starting for Buda- 
 
 Pesth " And then, seeing that she seemed somewhat 
 
 mystified, he had briefly to explain to her the relationship 
 between himself and the Prince and Princess of Monteveltro, 
 and the reasons why he should be at their beck and call 
 during their stay in London. 
 
 Mrs. Elliott's heart beat quick, and wild visions swam 
 before her brain. A Prince and Princess — a reigning Prince, 
 too : if she could but secure these distinguished personages 
 for this one evening — for ten minutes on that one evening 
 — would not a seal be set on these little festivities of hers 
 for ever and ever ? Would not this or that family com- 
 municate with others— at rectory dinners and the like ? 
 Could not a few paragraphs in the ' society ' papers be 
 secured ? Well, to make this proposal demanded courage ; 
 but the poor woman was brave ; and much need had she 
 had to be brave, during her long struggle with vacillating 
 fortune. 
 
 " Oh, Sir Francis," said she, with a pitiful eagerness that 
 he could not but perceive, " do you think you could persuade 
 the. Prince and Princess to come with you on Saturday 
 evening, if only for a few minutes — it would be such an 
 honour ! " 
 
 He laughed, doubtingly. 
 
 " My step-papa is rather lazy," he said ; *' but as for the 
 Mater, she will do anything I ask of her ; and I am sure — ■ 
 if they are still in town — and if they happen to have no 
 definite engagement for that evening — I am sure it will 
 give her very great pleasure." 
 
 " Should I send the Prince and Princess a card of invita- 
 tion ? " she asked, quickly. 
 
 " Oh no," he said, " don't trouble. I will ask them this 
 afternoon how long they are to be in London. And that 
 reminds me : if you will excuse me, I must be off to my
 
 1 66 B RISE IS 
 
 duties ; for I rather fancy they expect me to trot about 
 with them, untU they set out for Buda-Pesth." 
 
 So he rose to take his leave ; and the last of them with 
 whom he shook hands in the drawing-room was Briseia 
 Valieri. 
 
 " I must write and tell Aunt Jean I have seen you," he 
 said to the beautiful, tall Greek girl, who regarded him 
 with no conscious shyness, but rather with a pleased and 
 smiling and perhaps grateful friendliness. " I know she 
 will be most interested to hear." 
 
 And therewith he left, lighting a cigarette as soon as he 
 was outside, and good-naturedly thinking that he might just 
 as well try to get the Prince and Princess to confer this 
 small favour on the poor widow, as to whose situation and 
 straits and efforts he had formed a pretty correct conjecture. 
 As he leisurely strolled from Portland Place and Langham 
 Place down into Regent Street, he could not help noticing 
 the attractive young English ladies who with their sisters 
 and mammas were crowding round the milliners' windows — 
 fresh-complexioned maidens, with beautiful hair, and pretty 
 bonnets, and sweetly tinted profile of cheek and chin. 
 
 Very attractive, no doubt But his eyes, as he knew, 
 
 were closed now. His fate was sealed. lie had conclusively 
 proved to hiniself that he was the luckiest and happiest of 
 men ; and he could always fall back upon that assured and 
 comfortable conviction ; although, to be sure, at times — 
 at some odd hour — at some unexpected moment — a quick 
 spasm of unknown and unreasoning dread would seize him, 
 with something almost like suffocation of the heart. But 
 then again, these uncontrollable, these irrational flinchings 
 from the future were of short duration j he put them aside 
 with angry impatience ; nay, at this very moment was he 
 not going calmly and confidently away down to Jermyn 
 Street, to see if the packet of photographs had arrived from 
 Miss Georgie, so that he might make a proud display of 
 them all along his mantel-shelf ?
 
 A DEPARTURE 167 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 A DEPAETUEE. 
 
 The photographs were not there ; but the Prince was ; and 
 forthwith young Gordon found himself haled off to a shop 
 in Piccadilly, where he was bidden to choose a complete set 
 of golfing implements, all of the most approved type. 
 
 " Golfing in Monteveltro ! " he protested. " Well, you 
 won't want for hazards 1 How many mountain-peaks to 
 the course ? " 
 
 " Oh, we shall do excellently," said Monseigneur, with 
 much confidence. " I know where will be a very good 
 links. As for bunkers, plenty ; as for turf, why you have 
 not in England a better tennis-lawn than Stephenson — you 
 remember, the British Charge d' Affaires — has adjoining his 
 house. We shall make out a golf-course weU enough, do 
 not you fear I " 
 
 Next Frank Gordon was dragged off to another shop in 
 Piccadilly, where inquiries were made about a stag's head 
 of fourteen points that had been sent to be stuffed and 
 mounted ; and minute instructions were given as to the 
 safest method of transit by which the much-prized trophy 
 could be conveyed to Sattaro on the Dalmatian coast. 
 
 And then again they pursued their way until they drew 
 near to Brown's Hotel. Carriages were driving up ; and 
 from these there descended to cross the pavement, one 
 after another, a number of distinctly foreign-looking 
 personages, for Madame the Princess was at home this 
 afternoon to certain of her friends. 
 
 " Pah ! " said Monseigneur, peevishly. " What is it now 1 
 They will never get their £15,000 a year pension for 
 King Milan, though they try to talk over each and every 
 member of the Skupstchina, and his wife, and his mother, 
 and his sister. He is a good man. King Milan, and he has 
 done great service to his country, and better than aU he is 
 a well-wisher to Monteveltro ; but look at their finances — ■ 
 how are they to meet the next coupon ? " 
 
 They entered the hotel. 
 
 " Frank," said Monseigneur, in an undertone, " you come
 
 1 68 B RISE IS 
 
 ap stairs with me. We will slip by unnoticed. I wish to 
 show you what Wienerschnitzel and Gurkensalat can do 
 now : Wienerschnitzel, when he lays down the pipe, gives a 
 bark — that is his thanks for the smoke ; and Gurkensalat 
 she can get the pipe into her mouth with her paws, putting 
 her head close to the table " 
 
 But of course an affectionate and obedient son could not 
 play such a shameless trick on his mother ; so Frank Gordon, 
 not to be seduced away from his duty, at once went into 
 the drawing-room, and mixed among these strange folk, 
 and endeavoured to make himself as polite und agreeable as 
 his not very fluent French or German allowed. The Prince 
 had for the moment disappeared — no doubt to make sure, 
 first of aU, that Wienerschnitzel and Gurkensalat were not 
 being neglected. 
 
 On this evening the Prince and Princess were dining at 
 a certain Embassy — and young Gordon of Grantly had also 
 received an invitation ; and it was while the three of them 
 were driving down to Belgrave Square that he got liis earliest 
 opportunity of putting in a word for poor Mrs. E]]i«tt. 
 
 " You see, Mater," he pleaded, when he had partly 
 explained the circumstances, " blood is thicker than water — 
 Scotch blood especially ; and the old Scotch families should 
 show a little clannishness ; and not many of them have 
 better claims than the Elliotts of the Lea. And you needn't 
 think it's snobbery on the part of this poor woman ; I don't 
 believe there's an ounce of snobbery in her composition ; 
 but one can see how your going there might give her a bit 
 of a lift, don't you know ; and I think she is in pretty hard 
 straits " 
 
 " Saturday ? " repeated his mother. " It is practically a 
 holiday-night for us, as it chances : we dine with the Von 
 Hohenecks — and there was a talk of our trying to see an 
 act or so of Carmen — but that is hardly possible " 
 
 " In any case you could look in at Mrs. Elliott's on your 
 way home," young Gordon pointed out directly. 
 
 " What do you say, Michael ? " she asked, turning to her 
 husband. 
 
 " If you wish it, yes," he answered with easy indifference : 
 he generally submitted to be taken about, wherever she 
 wanted, by his more energetic consort.
 
 A DEPARTURE 169 
 
 " Most likely there won't be any one you know," her son 
 continued, " But at least I want you to meet the Greek 
 young lady about whom I told you — you remember " 
 
 " Oh," she exclaimed, with her eyebrows elevated a bit, 
 " is this, then, the house where the divine one scrubs the 
 dishes ? " 
 
 " It isn't that — or anything like that ! " he rejoined, in 
 tones of distinct annoyance. " Why do you put things so 
 harshly — and so wrongly ? You have merely heard what 
 Aunt Jean had to say about her — along with some rumours 
 coming from an Edinburgh lawyer. But if she is in that 
 position, or anything approaching to it, I know the reason : 
 it is simply because she has got a sort of kindly and good- 
 humoured acquiescence in her disposition ; she doesn't 
 know her own value ; she doesn't stand on her rights ; she 
 seems so happy in herself that she would take any trouble 
 to do anything for any one." And then he altered his 
 manner altogether. " "Well, Mater, I'm not going to 
 insist. You'll see and judge for yourself. But if there 
 was any generosity about you, or sympathy, or a single 
 spark of humanity or feUow-feeling, why, you'd just take 
 this girl away with you, and keep her beside you as your 
 companion and friend ; and you could introduce her at 
 Court — Vienna or anywhere ; and I don't think you would 
 have much reason to be ashamed of her ! I should imagine 
 not 1 She has every accomplishment ; she speaks all kinds 
 of languages ; and she's just the most beautiful creature 
 you ever set eyes on, with the most unselfish nature, and a 
 
 charm of manner that is indescribable Oh, you may 
 
 take my word for it you wouldn't have her long on your 
 hands 1 The majority of men may be fools ; but they're 
 not such mortal fools as that. She's fitted to marry into 
 any society ; and of course she would marry well — instead 
 of dragging out her life as a drudge in a sort of genteel 
 boarding-house." 
 
 "Frankie, my lad," said the Princess, a Kttle more 
 gravely, " I fear my hands are a little too full for me to 
 make any such experiment — at present, at least." 
 
 " But you'll be kind to her on Saturday night," he 
 pleaded. 
 
 " Oh, no. Certainly not. I will taunt her with her
 
 I70 BRISEIS 
 
 poverty ; and ask her by what right she has come up from 
 the kitchen." 
 
 " You will, will you ? " said he, with a laugh. " Very 
 well, what I know is this : she'll make a poor, soft, ridiculous 
 idiot of you before you've been three minutes within the 
 influence of her eyes, and her smile." 
 
 " Frankie," said the Princess, as they were going up the 
 Embassy stairs, " is this a trap you've laid for me ? " 
 
 " When and where ? " he exclaimed. 
 
 " Saturday night," she replied. " Your language is rather 
 warm about that young Greek lady " 
 
 " Oh, nonsense, nonsense," he said. " I was giving you 
 a most unbiassed opinion. Mater, wait till you see. You 
 know Aunt Jean is not very impressionable ; and yet she 
 just won Aunt Jean's heart away from her." 
 
 But stirring events were to happen before that Saturday 
 night. When he got home from the Embassy, the first 
 thing he saw on entering his rooms was a telegraphic en- 
 velope placed prominently on the mantel-piece. He opened 
 it and read the contents — and these he found to be 
 sufficiently surprising. 
 
 " Come down by first train to-morrow morning. Urgent. 
 Eockminster, Adelphi Hotel, Liverpool." 
 
 And in an instant he had jumped to the conclusion that 
 this mysterious summons was in some way connected with 
 Georgie Lestrange. She had been too shy to telegraph to 
 him herself ; so she had asked Lord Rockminster to do that 
 for her — Rockminster who had been her host and in a 
 manner her guardian at the date of her last writing. And 
 were these two now in Liverpool ? And why ? Well, the 
 only thing that remained for him was to hunt up Bradshaw ; 
 there he found that the morning train for Liverpool left 
 Euston at 7.15 ; and then he sat down and wrote a note to 
 his mother explaining that she must excuse his absence on 
 the following day — until the evening, at all events ; he 
 would send her a more definite message as soon as he 
 could ascertain what was wanted of him. His sleep that 
 night was restless ; and his waking moments full of uneasy 
 suspense. 
 
 It was a little after noon when he reached Liverpool ; 
 and he went straight to the Adelphi Hotel ; Lord Rock-
 
 A DEPARTURE 171 
 
 minster, as he perceived from a distance, was on the pave- 
 ment outside, idly looking about him, and smoking a 
 cigarette. 
 
 " Awfully good of you to come down," Rockminster said, 
 when Frank Gordon arrived. " Fact is, I sent that telegram 
 on my own responsibility " 
 
 " But what's the matter ? " the younger man demanded 
 abruptly. 
 
 " If you want it cut short, then : Miss Lestrange sails 
 to-day in the Barlaric, for New York ; and I thought you 
 would like to know — I mean, I thought you might wish to 
 
 see her before she left Now, look here, Gordon, one 
 
 word of clear understanding," he went on — for Frank 
 Gordon appeared too bewildered to put any questions, " I 
 fancy there is something between Miss Georgie and you ; 
 but it is none of my business ; and I don't want to be 
 told anything about it. You understand ? I know 
 nothing — don't want to know. Only, she has seemed 
 preoccupied and distressed out of all reason ; and I was 
 certain she hadn't sent you a telegram — mightn't like, 
 perhaps— or may have thought writing would explain 
 better — she's writing now, in the Ladies' Drawing-room ; 
 and last night I thought I would act on my own re- 
 sponsibility, without asking her any impertinent question 
 — hope I haven't made an infernal mess of it- 
 
 it 
 
 But what is it all about ? Why is she going to 
 America ? Why did she not tell me .? " young Gordon 
 demanded, with wide eyes. 
 
 "No time. Everything has been so hurried. Here, 
 come into the coffee-room, and sit down ; there won't be 
 anybody about." 
 
 And indeed the long and spacious coffee-room was 
 practically empty, save for a passing waiter. These two 
 took scats at a window table. 
 
 " You know her brother Percy," Rockminster began, in 
 his usual imperturbable fashion : whatever whirl of inci- 
 dents might be about was not likely to upset the equilibrium 
 of his brain. 
 
 " I've heard of him — I've never seen him," Frank 
 Gordon answered. 
 
 "Yery nice fellow — clever, you know — awfully good at
 
 172 BRISEIS 
 
 private theatricals and that sort of thing. But he got 
 tired of loafing about Campden Hill and South Kensington ; 
 went_ to Florida ; bought a partnership in a big fruit- 
 growing concern, and was getting on well enough with his 
 figs and oranges and bananas. Been to Florida ? " 
 
 " Never." 
 
 " You may thank the Lord, Consists of oranges and 
 swamps ; and on a show of hands the swamps would have 
 it. From this letter of his partner's it appears he was 
 seized with some sort of malarial fever ; got it precious 
 bad ; then I suppose they flooded him with quinine and 
 bark ; eventually they chased out the fever ; and looked 
 to his getting all right again as a matter of course. But 
 he hasn't got all right — fearful depression and weakness — • 
 nervous system all broken down — cares for nothing — will 
 not try to get up — sinking into a kind of hopeless apathy — 
 cries for no reason whatever — and only asks for rest — rest 
 — until I can see they are afraid of his slipping off into 
 a kind of rest that isn't in the reckoning. And he has 
 been talking about his sister — in his half-delirious state 
 imploring them to send for her. Well, of course all this 
 upset Miss Georgie terribly, and she hardly knew what to 
 do ; when right on the heels of the letter comes a telegram 
 saying that a Mr. and Mrs. Martinez de la Pena, neighbours 
 of theirs out there in Florida, were returning by the Barbaric, 
 and would bring her along with them if she were disposed to 
 come. So you may imagine what telegraphing, and packing, 
 and travelling has been crammed into the past thirty-six 
 hours ; but here we are at last — cabin secured, and every- 
 thing ; and all that lies before us now is an early luncheon 
 and a leisurely getting aboard the tender." Rocloniuster 
 had been lazily playing with the handle of one of the forks. 
 He suddenly looked up. " I say, Gordon, if you think I've 
 put my foot in this affair, by telegraphing for you, there is 
 time for you to skip out and get back to the station ; and 
 I shall never breathe a word about your having been here." 
 
 " Of course not— of course not 1 " Frank Gordon made 
 answer, almost indignantly. " I must see her — of course I 
 must see her. And I may tell you this, Rockminster : 
 you're not so far out in your surmise about her and myself 
 — only — don't you see — nothing has been formally con>
 
 A DEPARTURE 173 
 
 mimicated to any one as yet. And I think it's awfully 
 good of you to have taken all this trouble, and come right 
 away down from Inverness-shire with her " 
 
 " My good chap, what else could I do I " his companion 
 protested, in his half -indifferent way. "But I must go 
 and find her now." 
 
 He had not to go very far ; for at this precise moment 
 Miss Georgie appeared at the door of the coffee-room, 
 timidly looking round. When she saw who this was who 
 rose to meet her, along with Lord Rockminster, she stood 
 stock-still — she almost shrank back — as if she did not 
 know whether to advance or retreat — as if she did not 
 know what to think or what to say to him. And then 
 again she pulled up a certain courage — though her face 
 was flushed and embarrassed in a most unusual manner ; 
 she went forward and said ' How do you do ? ' to him, as 
 if this were quite an ordinary occasion ; and then she 
 turned to Lord Eockminster. 
 
 " Mr. and Mrs. De la Pena," said she, " are asking when 
 you propose to have lunch ; they seem anxious to be in 
 good time on board the tender " 
 
 " We will have luncheon here and now," said Rock- 
 minster, promptly — perceiving a chance of leaving these 
 two together for a moment. " Where are the De la Penas ? 
 • — in the writing-room ? I will go and fetch them." 
 
 And then as soon as he was gone she looked up. 
 
 " How did you know ? " she said. " I have been 
 writing to you — most of the morning — but the letter is 
 in my pocket. I did not think telegraphing would be of 
 any use — I could not explain. How did you know to 
 come here ? " 
 
 " Eockminster telegraphed to me last night," he answered 
 her, simply enough. 
 
 " Lord Eockminster ? " she repeated — and the embarrass- 
 ment in her face did not grow less. " But — but did Lord 
 Eockminster suspect — how did he come to assume " 
 
 " He was quite right in assuming ! " her companion said, 
 boldly. " Of course he could not ask you questions you 
 might think impertinent ; but if he guessed that you would 
 rather have me come to see you off, he was quite right in 
 sending for me "
 
 174 B RISE IS 
 
 "Oh, Frank, it's so kind of you — you always are so 
 kind 1 " she said, in a low voice. 
 
 " And is your brother so very ill ? " he asked. 
 
 " I will show you his partner's letter presently," said she, 
 as she somewhat drew away from him — for Lord Eock- 
 minster and the swarthy-visaged De la Penas were now 
 visible at the coffee-room door. 
 
 This unwonted constraint and timidity lasted all through 
 luncheon. Perhaps she resented the inferences that these 
 strangers would naturally draw from the sudden arrival of 
 this young man. Perhaps she was secretly wondering if 
 the rest of the people at Glen Skean Castle shared in the 
 assumption that had induced Lord Rockminster to telegraph 
 for Frank Gordon. Or again she may have been tired with 
 the long travelling ; her mind was doubtless full of unrest 
 about her brother ; and she may have contemplated the 
 unknown voyage and the subsequent journey with some 
 natural nervousness. At all events, she was no longer the 
 light-hearted, gay, audacious Georgie Lestrange ; even 
 when they were going out on the brisk little tender, she 
 paid no heed to the eagerly talkative people about her, nor 
 did she care to look at the wide and busy river, with its 
 innumerable smaU craft darting about in every direction, 
 while the smoky sunlight was splintered in glints and 
 gleams on the tawny surface of the current. She was as 
 one dazed when she got on board the great ship, with its 
 hurrying passengers, its officers, and the long row of 
 stewards marshalled in array. It was Mrs. De la Pena 
 who took her below, and found out her cabin for her, 
 and deposited there the small parcels she had brought with 
 her. And then she returned on deck again. 
 
 " Frank," said she, in an undertone, " were you annoyed 
 that — that Lord Rockminster should have guessed ? " 
 
 " Good gracious, why ? " said he. 
 
 " And — and do you think the other people at the Castle 
 have been imagining the same thing ? " 
 
 " I don't know — but they are entirely welcome 1 " 
 said he, with a decision 'that ought to have given heart 
 of grace to this poor trembling lass who was half clinging 
 to him. 
 
 " llcre is the letter I meant to post to you," she con-
 
 A DEPARTURE 175 
 
 tinned, and she covertly handed it to him. "You wUl 
 find Percy's address in it, if you care to "write to me " 
 
 " If I care to write to you ! " 
 
 " And, Frank, don't think of me as you see me now 1 " 
 she pleaded, "This isn't me at all. I'm frightened by 
 the confusion. Long before we reach New York, I know 
 I shall be as merry as a grig ; and when I get to Branch 
 Valley I shall cheer Percy up at once and set him quite 
 right again. Don't think of me as I am now " 
 
 A bell rang for the second time. 
 
 " I must get back to the tender," said he. 
 
 She moved with him to the end of the gangway, where 
 Lord Rockminster was waiting to bid her farewell ; and it 
 . was to Rockminster that she said good-bye first. Then she 
 turned to young Gordon. 
 
 " Good-bye, Frank ! " said she — and she lifted her face 
 towards him — her eyes full of tears. 
 
 He said good-bye and kissed her — not caring how many 
 commercial travellers, of Liverpool or New York, might be 
 looking on : indeed, these merry gentlemen were mostly 
 engaged in calling messages to their friends on board the 
 other vessel. Then he, too, had to pass along the gang- 
 way ; and almost immediately thereafter the tender set off 
 for the wharf, while the great ship began slowly and 
 steadily to creep down stream. He stood on the paddle- 
 box, waving a handkerchief until further recognition was 
 impossible. And that was the last of poor, wild, wicked 
 Georgie that he saw for many a long day to come. 
 
 MeanwhQe an intimation that the Prince and Princess 
 of Monteveltro really meant to honour by their presence 
 Mrs. Elliott's reception on Saturday night was sufficient to 
 arouse a profound if partly concealed excitement through- 
 out the house in Devonshire Place. Even the sullen and 
 sluggish Brenda woke up to the possibilities of the occa- 
 sion ; the intractable spitfire Olga became quite submissive 
 in her appeals for advice and assistance ; and the three 
 young ladies from the coimtry secretly and separately 
 telegraphed down to their relatives, announcing the 
 momentous fact, and demanding authority for imlimited 
 millinery outlay. But it was on the poor widow's shoulders 
 that the burden of anxieties fell ; insomuch that at times
 
 176 B RISE IS 
 
 she was almost sinking into despair, and wishing she had 
 never been so audacious as to prefer her breathless request. 
 And then again she would pull herself together, determined 
 to make the most of her great opportunity. She could not 
 now issue invitations ' To meet the Prince and Princess of 
 Monteveltro ' — for her cards had already been issued ; but 
 she could go to such of her acquaintances as had not yet 
 been asked, and in a casual kind of way mention that these 
 august personages were likely to illumine her poor house 
 on Saturday evening, and would Mr. and Mrs. So-and-so, if 
 they happened to have no other engagement, care to look 
 in for a little while ? Indeed, she asked everybody she 
 could think of ; for she knew that the bigger the crowd 
 the less attention could be directed to worn carpets and 
 shabby furniture. Then she went to a florist, and made a 
 bargain with him about the loan of flowers for the supper 
 table and the staircase landing. She had almost pathetic 
 conversations with the confectioner about this or that 
 small economy, and the resulting price per head. And all 
 through these few and hurried days there dwelt in her 
 mind a never-ending, rather an increasing, perplexity as 
 to who among her more distinguished guests should take 
 down whom to supper. Ilcre are some of the solutions 
 that presented themselves from time to time, amid all this 
 wild worry of preparation : — 
 
 Sir F. Gordon — The Princess. 
 
 Tlie Croird. 
 
 The Prince — Hostess, 
 ilf m * 
 
 The Prince — TJie Princess. 
 
 Sir F. Gordon — Hostess. 
 
 TJie Crowd. 
 
 It! If * 
 
 Tlte Prince — Hostess. 
 The Crowd. 
 
 Sir F. Gordon — The Princess. 
 
 * * m 
 
 Sir F. Gordon — Tlie Princess. 
 The Prince — Hostess. 
 The Crowd. 
 
 Nay, the longer she considered this problem the more 
 hopeless it became, until in her desperation sIjc resolved on
 
 A DEPARTURE 177 
 
 doing nothing at all. Some accident would happen. 
 Some involuntary movement among the people would lead 
 them to choose such partners as were near them ; and 
 while the crowd, descending to the dining-room, would 
 swarm along the buffet or occupy the scattered chairs, the 
 small table at the upper end reserved for the Prince and 
 Princess, Sir Francis Gordon, and their hostess would 
 remain secure. She would talk to her illustrious guests on 
 their way thither, as if not noticing what had occurred or 
 was occurring. They would drop into their places as a 
 matter of course ; the white-gloved waiter would open 
 the first bottle of champagne ; and in a few moments 
 a benignant and reassuring clamour would everywhere 
 prevail. 
 
 And at length the great night arrived ; all the gases 
 and candles had been lit ; the flowers arranged ; the supper 
 table laid out in fair display ; everything that mortal could 
 do on scant means and within the strict confines of solvency 
 had been done by the apprehensive but indomitable little 
 widow ; only — only— as quarter of an hour after quarter of 
 an hour went by, and her rooms had got almost choke-full 
 with the murmuring crowd she knew that if after all she 
 was disappointed of her exalted guests then her very heart- 
 strings would crack. She talked to this one and the other ; 
 but her nervous glances invariably returned to the door. 
 She did not heed what was said kj her ; she forgot to notice 
 whether her bonny darlings Olga and Brenda were looking 
 their best ; she could not even send Briseis off on some 
 final errand of decoration : all her thoughts were concen- 
 trated on that empty doorway. And then, of a sudden, 
 her longing eyes seemed to recognize a familiar face — 
 handsome and sunburnt — out there in the semi-dusk ; 
 there was a taU young gentleman whose arrival was of the 
 most joyous import ; almost by his side there was a vision 
 of a lady of imposing presence, all in white satin and lace 
 and pearls ; and following her came a stout gentleman who 
 wore a broad blue ribbon across his waistcoat and a con- 
 spicuous diamond star close to the lapel of his coat. A 
 kind of hush fell over the general conversation of the room 
 — and that was in itself unnerving ; but the little widow 
 had steeled herself against this crisis ; she advanced to tte
 
 178 BRISEIS 
 
 Princess, and took her hand, and welcomed her with a few 
 pretty words ; and she was introduced to the Prince ; and 
 these two remained talking with her, while young Gordon 
 passed on to pay his respects to Miss Olga and Miss Brenda. 
 All the same, he was looking about a little. Where was 
 Briseis, then ? He could see no sign of her. And yet he 
 had brought the Prince and Princess mainly that they 
 should get to know something of Briseis Yalieri ; and who 
 could tell at what moment Monseigneur, who was a 
 whimsical sort of person, might not insist on getting away 
 home ? 
 
 And then he went back to Mrs. Elliott, meaning to ask 
 her downright what had become of her niece. But just at 
 this moment there slipped in at the doorway a tall and slim 
 and graceful figure dressed entirely in black ; and the new- 
 comer seemed inclined to linger there, to be out of observa- 
 tion, as it were, while she could see all that was going on. 
 Frank Gordon at once went up to her — delight in his eyes. 
 
 " I have been looking for you everywhere. Miss Valieri," 
 said he ; "I want you to know my mother. Shall I bring 
 her to you ? " 
 
 " Oh, no, I will go with you." 
 
 Indeed it was but a step or two ; and the beautiful young 
 Greek girl showed no hesitation in accompanying him ; the 
 next moment found her being presented to the Princess and 
 her husband. Then Gordon, considering that Briseis Yalieri 
 might well be left to make her impression in her own way, 
 withdrew from that little group, and wandered back to Olga 
 and Brenda, and their chatter about the new pianist whose 
 red head had set all feminine London on fire. 
 
 Now in what manner or under what direction her swarm 
 of guests got themselves down to the supper-room, the 
 agitated and all too happy Mrs. Elliott herself hardly knew ; 
 but the end of it was that the long apartment was speedily 
 filled with an amorphous throng — the dowagers claiming 
 the occasional chairs, the younger folk foraging at the 
 buffet, or being attended to in quiet corners ; while the 
 Prince and Princess had been successfully navigated to the 
 smaU table. They and their hostess took their places ; but 
 young Gordon remained standing — looking down the busy 
 room.
 
 A DEPARTURE 179 
 
 " "Won't you be seated, Sir Francis ? " the widow said to 
 him — she was anxious to have the little party of four 
 complete. 
 
 " Oh, no, thanks," he said. " I would rather make myself 
 useful — if I knew how ^" 
 
 " Then go and fetch Miss Valieri," his mother said to him, 
 promptly. " Here is a place for her — and we were inter- 
 rupted when she was telling me about Tricoupi " 
 
 " Oh, Briseis ? " interposed the little widow. " She is so 
 very kind 1 She offered to remain in the drawing-room, 
 with my youngest son — the poor lad is lame, you know, 
 Princess, and cannot get about very weU " 
 
 With that Frank Gordon moved away. He did not seem 
 to have any particular aim. In fact he had to move slowly ; 
 for the place was crammed ; and young men carrying 
 oscillating things on plates were objects to be avoided. 
 But at length he got out into the hall ; he ascended the 
 vacant staircase ; ne reached the landing. And here he 
 paused. 
 
 For the door of the drawing-room was open an inch or 
 so ; and while he stood hesitatingly still there came to him 
 a sound such as never before had fallen upon his ears. 
 Piano-playing in general he rather detested ; its mechanical, 
 staccato tinkle-tank produced no effect on him — except 
 irritation and a desire for quiet. But this strange melody 
 that now he heard seemed to run and ripple in continuous 
 cadences : measured, it is true, for it was clearly a dance — 
 a joyous dance — soft, and elusive, and distant at times, and 
 then again fuU and glad and clear as a thrush's song on a 
 May morning. Then it ceased ; and there followed a kind 
 of mysterious chant — a solitary voice, as musical as the 
 music, pronouncing the words almost in monotone : 
 
 The young maidens are merrily dancing. 
 Out in the sun the young maidens are dancing, 
 Their hands are linked around the olive-tree :\ 
 Little one, Marianoula, why dost thou weepi 
 
 Again the dance-music : one can almost see the lithe limbs 
 and the flowing draperies, the outstretched arm and swift- 
 glancing foot, in the dappled shade under the olives. And 
 again the low-voiced, plaintive recitative : 
 
 N 2
 
 i8o BRISK IS 
 
 Her lover came to the tcell, 
 With soft words her lover came to the well, 
 Hie red and white flowers of her heart were opened, 
 The red Mtd white flowers of her heart were filled with dew : 
 Little one, Marianoula, why sittest thou apart f 
 
 But now those running and rippling chords become more 
 buoyant ; the passing note of sadness is abandoned ; the 
 sinuous melody weaves itself into a happier strain. And the 
 recitative that follows speaks welcome words : 
 
 Lo ! a stranger upon the road — 
 The road that comes winding from Zagora ; 
 He bears in his hand a heautiful necklace: 
 Little one, Marianoula, the necklace is for thee. 
 
 The music grows louder and more joyous ; and then again 
 it droops — it seems to draw near — it seems almost to whisper 
 • — it is a whisper that a maiden may understand : 
 
 What are the jewels on the necklace ? 
 Tlie jewels are tears, the tears of absence : 
 Arise, Marianoula, and greet thy lover! 
 
 Little one, Marianoula, thou must dry his tears. 
 
 Then there were a few notes of farewell — fading into 
 silence. 
 
 The strange and extraordinary charm of this composition 
 — the fascination and mysticism of the music, and the 
 impression of dim remoteness, and pitj, and tenderness 
 conveyed by that low-toned voice — held him spellbound for 
 a second or two ; and he could not move. It was as if 
 sleep were around him — and dreams -and an inexpressible 
 consciousness of the tragedy of human life. And tlien — for 
 he was here on a mission — he strove to throw off this magic 
 web of entrancement ; he stepped up to the door and opened 
 it ; and looking into the large and empty room he found that 
 Briseis had turned from the piano and was talking to her 
 boy-cousin Adalbert. 
 
 " I have been sent for you, Miss Valieri," he said. " My 
 mother wants you to sit by her — she has kept a place for 
 you " 
 
 " I cannot do that, Sir Francis," she answered, smiling- 
 eyed, " for I have been left in charge. But if you wouldn't 
 mind stayinfnvith Ada]I)crt for a few minutes, I should like
 
 A DEPARTURE i8i 
 
 to go down and get some supper for him — I know the 
 things he prefers " 
 
 Young Gordon accepted the post with great good-will ; 
 and Briseis left the room. 
 
 " What was that your cousin was singing and playing 
 before I came in ? " he asked. 
 
 " Oh, that ? " replied the lame lad. " That ? That was 
 one of the things she makes out of her own head, you know. 
 You see, she and I go into the Park every morning at 
 twelve ; and she reads to me ; but it would be rather 
 scudgy of me, wouldn't it, to keep her always at those 
 reports of cricket and football that a girl can't care about ? 
 And so I sometimes read for myself ; and then I can see 
 that she sits thinking — but not very seriously either — it's 
 about the verses, you know — sometimes they're little Polish 
 songs, and sometimes Hungarian, and sometimes Armenian 
 ■ — but there's always an English version for me. And 
 although she's kept awfully busy in the house, now and 
 again the others are away at an afternoon concert, or 
 something of that kind — and she's generally left at home 
 with me — and she asks me to come in here for a little while 
 — and she plays — well, did you ever hear such playing ? — 
 she can make the piano speak — it says anything she wants 
 to say — and then between she recites the verses — so low — I 
 wonder you could have heard " 
 
 At this point the door was again opened. But it was not 
 Briseis who appeared ; it was Olga Elliott, carrying a plate 
 and a spoon and fork ; and the moment that Gordon set 
 eyes on her he saw that something was wrong. 
 
 " Yes, you may well stare ! " said she — and her lips were 
 pale with passion. " That I should be ordered to fetch and 
 carry things like a kitchen-maid — sent away from the room 
 — while Briseis Yalieri is singled out, and taken up, and put 
 at the Prince's table 1 The — the upstart 1 She and her 
 shabby black rags — when all the rest of us had been at such 
 pains " 
 
 " Cousin Briseis," said the small lame boy, with his face 
 afire, " dresses better than any of you — and that always — ■ 
 always ! " 
 
 *' Here, take this rubbish — and I hope it may choke you 1 " 
 exclaimed the scowling-eyed fury, and she thrust the plate
 
 i82 BRISEIS 
 
 upon him. "A seat reserved for Briseis Yalieri, at the 
 Prince's table I — and I dare say she wasn't asked at all — I 
 dare say it was her own downright impudence that made 
 her force her way " 
 
 " Oh, I beg your pardon, Miss Olga," said Frank Gordon 
 — but mildly, for he had never seen a girl of decent up- 
 bringing in such an ungovernable rage before, and in fact 
 he was rather frightened. " The Princess sent me to find 
 Miss Valieri " 
 
 " Then does the Princess know in whose house she is ? " 
 demanded this sallow-complexioned virago with the flaming 
 eyes. " She was invited here by a family called Elliott. I 
 am an Elliott. I'm not a foreigner. But I've got to go 
 for aspic jelly — I am sent away from the room — while a 
 foreign creature in a dingy black dress is taken to the 
 Prince's table — with everybody looking on 1 " 
 
 " It is not a dingy black dress — it is the prettiest dreae in 
 the whole house 1 " the lame boy retorted, panting a little. 
 
 But this stormy scene had to end ; for there were sounds 
 outside, of people ascending the staircase ; and the very first 
 to put in an appearance was the Prince himself, who was 
 accompanied by Briseis Valieri — the Princess having been 
 detained below by Mrs. ElUott, to run the gauntlet of intro- 
 ductions. Monseigneur was talking in German ; and he was 
 laughing consumedly ; and so occupied was he with this 
 subject of "Wienerschnitzel and Gurkensalat that he seized 
 two chairs, and made Briseis sit down with him, that he 
 might the better describe to her the irresistible drolleries of 
 his two black poodles. But when the Princess came up, 
 Briseis was released from durance ; for Frank Gordon's 
 mother seemed to have a great deal to say to this Greek 
 girl, and to be much interested in her, and charmed with 
 her, as all this miscellaneous assemblage could clearly 
 perceive. 
 
 As they were driving down to Brown's Hotel — and, 
 indeed, almost as soon as they had left the house — Frank 
 Gordon said to his mother : 
 
 " Well, Ma<«r, what have you to say about the Maid of 
 Athens ? " 
 
 The Princess of Monteveltro — as she sometimes did, for 
 caprice or amusement — lapsed into the Scotch tongue.
 
 A DEPARTURE 183 
 
 " Fraukie, lad, I thought ye were just bletherin when 
 ye spoke of her ; but I find ye were not. She's just a 
 witch of a lassie, that — with her great, big eyes, and the 
 smiling daintiness of her, and her pretty voice : she'll make 
 many a man's heart sore, will that one. Keep out of her way, 
 Frankie ; keep out of her way ; that's my advice to ye." 
 
 " I ? " he said, in some little astonishment. And then 
 he added, quietly : " You don't understand. Mater. I 
 shall be sending you a letter one of these days." 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 A SQUIEE OF DAMES. 
 
 A FEW days after these occurrences, and between one and 
 two in the afternoon, Frank Gordon drove up to Mrs. 
 Elliott's house in Devonshire Place, jumped out of the 
 hansom, ascended the steps, and rang the bell. After a 
 little delay a maidservant appeared. 
 
 " Can I see Mrs. Elliott ? " he asked. 
 
 " They're at luncheon," she said, looking troubled. 
 
 " Yes, I know. But I want to speak to her for only a 
 moment. Will you tell her, please ? No, thanks, I won't 
 go up to the drawing-room ; I wUl wait here." 
 
 He remained in the hall, while the girl disappeared into 
 the dining-room, leaving the door open. Apparently there 
 was some disputatious argument going on within ; but, as 
 he could plainly hear, it was wound up by a contemptuous 
 declaration on the part of the fiery-tempered Olga. 
 
 " It's all rubbish this trying to talk French among our- 
 selves I " she maintained, with scornful emphasis. " We 
 ought to be taken over to Dieppe or Boulogne for a month 
 or two months every year — then we might have a chance. 
 As it is, we simply go blundering on without knowing it ; 
 and what fools we should make of ourselves if we went to 
 Paris 1 I wonder what the Parisian dentist thought when 
 the English girl went into his place and said to him, 
 * Monsieur, s'il vous plait, examinez mes dentelles.' " 
 
 At this moment the much-harassed mother made her 
 appearance ; and directly she saw who her visitor was her
 
 lU B RISE IS 
 
 face — the poor, worn, enduring face — lit up with pleasure 
 and gratitude. 
 
 " Won't you come in, Sir Francis ? — we are just having 
 luncheon " 
 
 " Oh, no, thank you," he said, " I have called only for 
 a second. But it is to ask a great favour of you, Mrs. 
 EUiott " 
 
 And what favour could he ask that she was not eager to 
 grant ? It was he who had assisted her in a higher 
 ambition than any she had ever dreamed of ; already, as 
 the fruit of an industrious sowing of little paragraphs, 
 several of the morning journals had announced that on the 
 previous Saturday evening the Prince and Princess of 
 Monteveltro had been present at a reception given by Mrs. 
 Alexander Elliott, of — Devonshire Place ; this piece of 
 intelligence, she knew, would be copied into many of the 
 weekly papers, especially those devoted to the doings of 
 womankind ; and there was no end to the flattering hopes 
 that had now got possession of her brain. She saw more 
 applicants for introduction to fashionable society ; she saw 
 her terms raised from £400 to £600 per annum ; she saw 
 her darling girls made much of and asked to go everywhere ; 
 she saw Edward the medical student entered for his three 
 years at Caius College. And what indulgent kindness or 
 courtesy should she withhold from the young man who had 
 done so much for her ? 
 
 " Mrs. EUiott," said he, " I want you to put all your 
 young ladies under my charge for an hour or so this after- 
 noon. An artist friend of mine has just come back from 
 China — been house-boating and sketching there for over 
 eighteen months — and his drawings are now hung in 
 Lucas's exhibition rooms in Bond Street. This is the 
 opening day — private-view day, rather — and he's an old 
 friend of mine ; I should like him to have a good crowd, 
 to show that there was public interest ; and I'm sure, if 
 you'U entrust me with your young ladies, I will take every 
 care of them " 
 
 " Oh, but they will be delighted to go 1 " she exclauned, 
 cheerfully — it was such an easy way of granting a favour ! 
 
 " Shall I call for them at three, or half past ? " he 
 inquired.
 
 A SQUIRE OF DAMES 185 
 
 "Perhaps half past three would be better," said the 
 widow — for she knew what a tumult of preparation would 
 shortly prevail throughout the house. Then she hesitated. 
 " Did you say all of them, Sir Francis ? There are Olga 
 and Brenda — I know they are free ; and Miss Bingham, 
 and Miss Tressider, and Miss Holmes, I'm sure they will 
 be most pleased to go. But as for Briseis — Miss Valieri, 
 you know — she and I had planned out some bits of house- 
 hold work for the afternoon ; and perhaps you would be so 
 kind as to excuse her " 
 
 He flushed — flushed like a schoolboy ; and for a moment 
 seemed quite taken aback. But the next instant he had 
 adventured upon a course that admits of neither palhation 
 nor excuse. 
 
 " Oh, but didn't I tell you," he stammered (inventing as 
 he went on) " that my friend Heatherstone has some Scotch 
 sketches too — Aberdeenshire — it was in Aberdeenshire I 
 first met him years ago ; and these are almost sure to be on 
 exhibition — perhaps in a separate room — or on screens, you 
 know. And I am certain Miss Valieri would be so interested 
 in them — if you don't mind, Mrs. Elliott — if it isn't putting 
 you about — I should so much like Miss Yalieri to renew her 
 acquaintance with the Aberdeenshire hills " 
 
 " Oh, very well. Sir Francis," said the widow, rather 
 wondering at his unnecessary insistence. " But what a 
 handful you will have 1 " 
 
 " I shall be here punctually at half past three," said he. 
 " And thank you ever so much ! " And with that he de- 
 parted — directing the cabman to drive him forthwith to a 
 certain restaurant in Bond Street. It was not of his own 
 personal requirements he was thinking. 
 
 And perhaps he had not entered into any minute analysis 
 of the motives that had led him to embark on this project. 
 For one thing, his time was entirely at his own disposal, 
 now that the Prince and Princess were on their way to 
 Buda-Pesth ; and then again Mrs. Elliott was a country- 
 woman of his, and here was an opportunity of paying her 
 a little compliment ; and no doubt Fred Heatherstone 
 would be glad of any addition to the assemblage meandering 
 through the exhibition rooms. But behind and apart from 
 these considerations there was a vague recollection of his
 
 l86 BR/S£:iS 
 
 having spoken indiscreetly to the old botanist and his niece 
 about a Dee-side welcome ; and he wished Briseis Yalieri to 
 know that Dee-side folk were not neglectful ; generally 
 speaking, he wanted to make atonement — for a wrong that 
 had never been committed. And so he was most exacting 
 in his arrangements with the head-waiter at this restaurant ; 
 and he had little sprays of flowers provided to be placed on 
 the table, one for each young lady, when they should come 
 out to have tea ; and finally, in course of time, he returned 
 with two four-wheeled cabs to Devonshire Place. Then, 
 as the half-dozen girls went three and three into the two 
 vehicles, he had his choice ; and he chose that one in which 
 Briseis was seated — perhaps because she was a sort of half- 
 stranger in London and thus especially his guest ; or perhaps 
 because her eyes chanced to meet his, and they were full of 
 a kindly pleasure and thanks ; or perhaps because he had 
 got into a way of rather liking to hear the sound of her 
 voice, which was extremely soft and musical. Anyhow he 
 and she sat opposite each other on their way down to 
 Bond Street ; and it was mainly to her that he gave an 
 account of his friend Fred Heatherstone, his position in 
 the art world, and the class of people who for the most 
 part formed his patrons. 
 
 It was Fred Heatherstone himself who received them — 
 a youngish man of extraordinarily clear blue eyes, a fresh 
 complexion, and clipped brown beard and mustache ; and 
 very polite he was to Frank Gordon's little group — though 
 it was to Briseis that his regard was continuously and covertly 
 returning ; and when a move was made towards an examina- 
 tion of the pictures, it was Briseis with whom he ranged 
 himself, proposing to go round with her. 
 
 " The sketches can't tell everything, you know," said he, 
 in a modest, shy way. " And we had a few adventures on 
 the Chinese canals." 
 
 As for Miss Bingham, and Miss Tressider, and Miss 
 Holmes, and the two sisters Olga and Brenda, the ever- 
 arriving crowd and the more striking of the costumes 
 afforded them sufficient occupation ; but of course they had 
 to make a perfunctory survey of the framed drawings ; and 
 it was while they were so engaged that Frank Gordon 
 chanced to espy, near the turnstile, a young lady to whom
 
 A SQUIRE OF DAMES 187 
 
 he had been introduced at the Hypatia Club. Being of a 
 bold, not to say reckless, nature, he ventured to approach 
 this damsel, although he knew her occupation, and could 
 perceive that she held a little note-book half hidden in her 
 hand. 
 
 " I'm afraid you won't remember me. Miss Caledon," he 
 said, as he raised his hat. " It was Miss Lestrange who was 
 kind enough to " 
 
 " Oh, but I've got you down. Sir Francis," said she, with 
 a half -sarcastic smile : she evidently took it for granted that 
 his object in addressing her was to get his own name into 
 the newspapers : she had had an early and sad experience 
 of the ways of the world, had this comely young lass with 
 the wild blond hair and the alert gray eyes. " But perhaps 
 you can help me — would you mind ? — there are one or two 
 whom I don't recognise, though they appear to be attracting 
 some attention. Who is the short, soldierly man with the 
 grizzled mustache — do you see him over there in the comer 
 ■ — the lady with him can't be his wife, for he's so awfully 
 attentive to her " 
 
 Well, Frank Gordon's acquaintance with the fashionable 
 or artistic circles of London was far from being over- 
 extensive ; but at least he knew a number of those present 
 as friends of his friend Heatherstone ; and he did what he 
 could to assist this frank-spoken and pleasant-looking young 
 person. Then she said — 
 
 " You brought in quite a big party with you." 
 
 " Yes," he made answer — arriving at last at his real object 
 in going up to her. " And there are two of them you might 
 put down in your list. Miss Caledon — it would be so good of 
 you — their mother would be so pleased " 
 
 " Yes, but is there anything special about their costume ? 
 — or have they done anything ? " she said, rather petulantly. 
 
 " Oh, never mind about that," he said. " There they are 
 ■ — just beyond the marble figure — Miss Olga Elliott and 
 Miss Brenda Elliott — their mother would be so awfully 
 pleased " 
 
 She scribbled down the names, rather unwUlingly. Then 
 she said — 
 
 " But didn't that beautiful girl come in with you — ^that 
 tail, foreign-looking girl who is going round with Mr.
 
 1 88 B RISE IS 
 
 Heatherstone ? She is carrying everything before her — 
 don't you notice ? — every one following her with their eyes 
 whenever there's a chance — didn't she come in with your 
 party ? " 
 
 He rather drew back in manner. 
 
 " Oh — ^well — yes — she did," he admitted, in a distant 
 kind of fashion. 
 
 " Who is she ? " was the next prompt demand. 
 
 " Oh, I wouldn't put her in your list," he said, uneasily. 
 " Oh, no, never mind I — I'm sure you've got enough 
 down " 
 
 " But I tell you she promises to be the chief feature of 
 the afternoon : I must have her name 1 " the lady- journalist 
 protested — and the little note-book was again opened. 
 
 " I've forgotten it," he said, in desperation. 
 
 " Forgotten her name ? And she is one of your party ? " 
 the young damsel exclaimed, staring at him. 
 
 " Oh, no, I did not mean that. What I mean is that it 
 is so difficult to spell — Greek names are very difficult to spell 
 in English — changing the u into y and the x into ch and all 
 
 that kind of thing. I really couldn't undertake But I 
 
 see my young people are looking about for me — good-after- 
 noon, Miss Calcdon, and thank you ever so much 1 " He shook 
 hands with her, and raised his hat, and turned away to lose 
 himself in the crowd. And thus it was that in the account 
 Avhich appeared in one or two evening papers — to be copied 
 in numerous weekly publications — of the distinguished 
 throng who had flocked to Mr. F. Heatherstone's Private 
 View, there were to be found the names of Miss Olga and 
 Miss Brenda Elliott, but no mention was made of any Greek 
 young lady having been present. Perhaps Frank Gordon 
 could not have explained to himself the origin of this little 
 bit of proud reserve on his part. 
 
 In the mean time Briseis, having gone the round of the 
 walls, was now engaged in talking to the artist's mother — a 
 singularly refined-looking old lady, with silvery-white hair 
 and an almost girlish freshness of complexion ; and it was 
 at this point that young Gordon came up with the pro- 
 position that as he was about to take his small troop of 
 guests to have tea at the restaurant where he had liad a 
 table reserved fur them, Mrs. Heatherstone and her son
 
 A SQUIRE OF DAMES 189 
 
 might as well come too. The invitation was at once 
 accepted ; the girls were noiselessly smnmoned ; and a short 
 time thereafter they were all of them seated together in the 
 tea-room, chatting and laughing as if newly released from 
 bondage. To be sure, there were only six sprays of flowers ; 
 but the moment she saw how matters lay, Briseis, on pre- 
 tence of putting her gloves and catalogue on the window- 
 sill, passed round the table to Mrs. Heatherstone's chair and 
 slipped her own tiny nosegay in front of the old lady. No 
 one noticed — except young Gordon of Grantly ; who thought 
 that sooner or later he might have an opportunity of making 
 up to Miss Valieri for that little act of self-sacrifice. 
 
 As it turned out, this expedition from end to end proved 
 to be a complete success ; and when eventually he had 
 convoyed his charges home, and when he turned away to 
 walk down to his club, he was very well content with the ex- 
 periment. He did not stay to consider whether there might 
 not be a certain dangerous facility about it. He was in 
 London, thrown very much on his own resources ; most of his 
 friends and chums and outlying kinsmen were away in the 
 country ; he himself did not propose returning to Aberdeen- 
 shire until Christmas, for he had several shooting engage- 
 ments to get through, in Norfolk and Sussex ; and mean- 
 while there was a kind of odd amusement in taking a drove 
 of girls about, while he was doing a good turn to his 
 countrywoman, Mrs. Elliott, in leaving the house quiet for 
 her. The spitfire Olga was almost kind to him ; the sulky 
 and sullen Brenda was quite clearly trying to be amiable ; 
 the three bucolics were as merry as crickets ; while as for 
 Briseis Yalieri, her bright intelligence, her serene sweetness, 
 and the compeUing splendour of her eyes were obvious to 
 every one, and why should he alone of mortals refuse to 
 yield to their attraction ? He treated her as he treated the 
 others — or he thought he did. And at the present moment 
 he was on his way down to the Sirloin Club, iwhere he 
 intended before dinner to write a long letter to Georgie 
 Lestrange — poor Georgie who, instead of wandering round 
 picture-rooms, and looking at pretty costumes, and having 
 sprays of flowers placed for her at the tea-table, was now 
 away on the wild Atlantic, with a world of uncertainties 
 before her.
 
 190 BRISEIS 
 
 He might have gone down to the Oxford and Cambridge 
 and taken his chance of finding some one he knew ; but the 
 Sirloin is a small and extremely exclusive club ; no stranger 
 or guest is admitted within its doors ; members are expected 
 to talk to each other, if they are that way inclined, whether 
 they have met before or not ; accordingly he was sure of 
 having companionship at dinner, even if his neighbour 
 puffed cigarette smoke into his soup — for the one chamber 
 at the Sirloin serves as dining-room, smoking-room, and 
 reading-room combined. As he entered the long and high- 
 ceUinged apartment it looked invitingly snug on this chill 
 October evening ; there was a big fire blazing at the further 
 end ; there were rose-shaded lamps on the snow-white table ; 
 everything seemed neat, and trim, and well-appointed ; and 
 the row of old silver jugs and tankards and snuff-boxes — 
 the gifts of loyal members — lent a certain richness of look 
 to the eighteenth-century sideboard. There were but three 
 persons present as yet : the ducal founder of the institution 
 was seated at a smaU table, scanning the pages of the 
 candidates' book ; a famous musical entertainer lay at full 
 length on a sofa, perhaps trying to make up for late nights ; 
 a callow youth, elegantly dressed, and chewing a toothpick, 
 was blankly staring at this or the other of the valuable 
 engravings that were ranged along the walls. A profound 
 silence reigned : young Gordon of Grantly would have un- 
 disturbed seclusion for the writing of the letter that was to 
 follow Miss Georgie across the far Atlantic. 
 
 It was a frank and friendly letter — and extremely sensible : 
 there were in it none of the endearing banalities, the secret 
 meanings, the ' httle language ' that lovers are used to send 
 to each other. He said he was anxiously awaiting her 
 telegram from New York ; he hoped she would find her 
 brother much better ; he looked forward to the time when 
 he should be walking up and down the wharf at Liverpool 
 to welcome her on her return. And then, having finished 
 this communication — and being still in a dutiful mood — 
 he took another sheet of paper, and composed a brief note 
 for his mother. According to promise, he said, he was 
 ■^^Titing to her ; and the object of his \vi-iting was to tell 
 her that he was engaged to Miss Georgie Lestrange. 
 Probably, he hinted, it was no great news to her — after
 
 A SQUIRE OF DAMES 191 
 
 the constant association she must have observed at Glen 
 Skean Castle ; nevertheless Georgie would be so pleased 
 if the Princess would send her a kindly little message, and 
 he would see that it was duly conveyed to her. When 
 Frank Gordon had closed and addressed these two letters 
 and deposited them in the box, he rose and looked round 
 about him, with something of the air of being a free man. 
 
 The first newcomer he noticed was a well-known actor- 
 manager, whose picturesque and effective Hamlet was just 
 then the talk of theatrical circles ; and this gentleman, 
 when he had ordered the bit of fish and glass of claret he 
 permitted himself on the way down to the theatre, came 
 over to Gordon. 
 
 " I saw you leaving Heatherstone's show this afternoon," 
 said he ; " there were a lot of you." 
 
 " Yes, rather a responsibility, all those girls." 
 
 Then of a sudden an idea sprang into Frank Gordon's 
 brain. He had nothing to do in this town of London ; 
 and taking those ghls about was a kind of harmless frohc. 
 
 " I say," he observed to the actor-manager, who was 
 drawing in a chair to the table, "I should Hke to bring 
 that little crowd to see your Hamlet ; and it would be an 
 additional point of interest — it would interest them tre- 
 mendously — if they could be admitted behind the scenes 
 for a minute or two " 
 
 "Against all law and order," was the very definite 
 response. 
 
 " But who makes a law can break it," said Gordon, 
 enigmatically. " And I'll let you off easy ; I'll bring only 
 three instead of six. And only a couple of minutes — we 
 should not interfere with anybody " 
 
 This modern representative of Hamlet the Dane was a 
 reflective person. He was also an angler ; and occasionally 
 he took his hohdays in Scotland. Furthermore, he had 
 heard that Sir Francis Gordon of Grantly was the fortunate 
 possessor of some fine stretches of water on the Dee. 
 
 " What evening do you propose ? " he said. 
 
 "WeU — to-morrow — or the next — if I find they are 
 disengaged." 
 
 " Make it Thm-sday evening if you can," said the Prince 
 Hamlet, as his frugal repast was being set before him.
 
 192 BRISEIS 
 
 "Bring the three young ladies to my box — I will leave 
 your name — and we will see what can be done." 
 
 It seemed so simple and natural that he should again 
 think of these pleasant companions. And Mrs. Elliott — 
 who was devoted heart and soul to the young man, and 
 ready to do everything he asked — made no objection when 
 he explained to her that on this occasion he could only 
 take Miss Olga and Miss Brenda and Briseis, because he 
 did not wish to overtax the manager's forbearance. When 
 Olga and Brenda learned that they were going to a private 
 box at the famous theatre, and also that they were to be 
 introduced to the mysteries behind the scenes, they were 
 out of their mind with importance and delight ; but all 
 the same they were shrewd enough to guess that this was 
 in reality only another compliment to their cousin Briseis, 
 paid her by the handsome young gentleman whose ac- 
 quaintanceship she had made in Aberdeenshire. And the 
 worst of it was that Briseis — who was not at all a vain 
 person, but who had quick perceptions, along with the fine 
 and subtle sensitiveness of a woman in respect of any 
 attention paid to her by one of the opposite sex — ^the 
 worst of it was that Briseis thought so too. 
 
 Indeed it was this very swiftness of apprehension on 
 her part that in the present stage of their companionship 
 constituted for him her chiefest charm. She seemed to 
 divine what he had to say before he had half said it ; she 
 was instantly responsive to the least hint or suggestion ; 
 there was an answering look — a smile of recognition — as 
 if further words were unnecessary. And then he never 
 appealed to her, for confirmation of his own views, or for 
 fm-ther intelligence, and found her wanting. For one 
 thing she was far more widely read than he — in many 
 literatures ; she had a more catholic appreciation of the 
 arts (he cared for little beyond landscape, and for statuary 
 hardly anything at all) ; young as she was, she had travelled 
 more and seen more than he ;. she had more of the accom- 
 plishments and manners of the great world — though in- 
 deed his modesty, and good-humour, and manliness were 
 sufficient to make up for any defect. And Olga and 
 Brenda had soon got into the way of leaving these two to 
 their half-uttered interchanges of confidence and comment.
 
 A SQUIRE OF DAMES 193 
 
 Here, for example, in the famous actor's box, the two 
 sisters were well content to occupy themselves with the 
 glow and pageantry of the stage, while Briseis, in her 
 curtained corner, could without being overheard talk to 
 her companion about any feature of the performance that 
 seemed to call for remark. It mattered little to Olga and 
 Brenda whether they had, or had not, been brought to 
 this theatre really on account of their cousin Briseis ; it 
 was enough that they were there — and in a prominent box ; 
 and they were making the most of a great opportuniky. 
 
 Then came the fateful summons from the lord Hamlet 
 himself ; and at once the two girls were on their feet, and 
 eager ; while Frank Gordon -got down Briseis's opera-cloak. 
 She, however, put up her hand with a Uttle gesture, and 
 indicated her dissent, 
 
 " Aren't you coming with us ? " he said. 
 
 " Oh, no, thank you ; no, thank you," she answered him, 
 and her eyes gave him one of their sweetest smiles. " I 
 prefer to remain with the illusion. Why should I wish to 
 see Ophelia dabbing her face with a powder-puff ? I 
 understand that such things are ; but I do not wish to see 
 them ; I would rather stay here — to look at Shakespeare's 
 dream of Denmark." 
 
 " Oh, do come ! " he said, in obvious disappointment : 
 for surely it was for her sake alone that he had begged for 
 this favour ? 
 
 But she was obdurate, in her suave and gentle fashion. 
 
 "I am like a child, I prefer illusions," she said, good- 
 naturedly. " And I am old enough not to tear open my 
 toys." 
 
 And so, with an unwillingness that he was polite enough 
 to conceal, he proceeded to escort the two sisters as they 
 followed the attendant who was still waiting for thcni. 
 When, after the lapse of a quarter of an hour, Olga and 
 Brenda reappeared, they were laden with smnptuous boxes 
 of chocolate and signed photographs, and they were quite 
 excited and breathless over the wonders they had beheld. 
 
 And so it went on from day to day, or rather on alter- 
 nate or occasional days : art-galleries, exhibitions, concerts, 
 theatres ; and sometimes the bucolics were asked, and 
 sometimes the two sisters, but always liriseis ; while as for 
 

 
 194 B RISE IS 
 
 the poor, tired-eyed little widow, so far from putting in 
 any protest, she was glad enough to see her young people 
 being taken about and amused. Briseis became of im- 
 portance in this household. To aU of them it seemed 
 sufficiently clear that, although Sir Francis appeared to 
 maintain an attitude of easy impartiality, these continuous 
 plans and entertainments were unmistakably so many httle 
 presents offered to Briseis ; and in private conclave they 
 decided that she also must be weU aware of the fact ; and 
 perhaps they envied her a lover who could be so lavish of 
 his time and trouble. 
 
 Moreover, they could not but observe, as the days went by, 
 that there was something gradually being added to the girl's 
 expression. Beautiful she had always been, even in her 
 saddest and loneliest moments ; but now that rare loveliness 
 of hers seemed to bask in a sort of sunhght. To kindness 
 of any description she had always been extraordinarily 
 sensitive and responsive ; but now the happiness that shone 
 in her eyes seemed a species of radiance, even as she went 
 about her ordinary duties. And she was busier than ever, 
 of her own free wiU ; anxious to do a good turn to this 
 one or that ; as if her whole nature were pervaded by a 
 joyous and secret gratitude, that she must express in 
 some way or other to her fellow-creatures. Of all the 
 bits of embroidery and finery that she had brought with 
 her from Eastern climes, hardly one remained : she had 
 given them all away, to the other girls in the house. 
 
 But if Frank Gordon, as he carelessly thought, had 
 preserved an attitude of unbiassed and benevolent neutrality 
 towards these young ladies who had been so kind as to 
 lend him their society, there was one point on which he 
 was desirous of estabhshing a dark and esoteric under- 
 standing Avith Briseis alone : he wished to get to know 
 more about the mysterious little songs or chants which she 
 was in the habit of composing when she had an idle 
 moment or two, and which for the most part she kept 
 hidden away in her own memory. He wanted her to wTite 
 down some of these things for him. But she laughingly 
 put him aside. 
 
 " It is all plagiarism," she said to him one afternoon as 
 they were walking home from a concert at St. James's Uall :
 
 A SQUIRE OF DAMES 195 
 
 he and she were in front, the three bucolics behind. " I 
 know many of the airs of the folk-songs ; and I take one 
 of them, and play round about it, and make foolishness of 
 it ; and what use would such a rambling kind of music be 
 to you ? " 
 
 " I don't so much mean the music : I mean the words," 
 he said. 
 
 " And these too are only echoes," she went on. " I 
 know so many of the ballads — Polish, Eussian, and Romaic 
 especially — and so many of them are alike ; so that if I 
 wish for a refrain, it is easy to put together a few words — 
 
 a little story — a suggestion " 
 
 " Then won't you write down one or two of them for 
 me ? " he begged of her, renewing his prayer. " Those I 
 
 have heard are most exquisite — so simple and tender " 
 
 She laughed again, and shook her head. 
 " Oh, then you wish me to become like the poetess you 
 met at the ladies' club — giving scraps of her compositions 
 to her friends ? " 
 
 " What, Miss Penguin ? " he exclaimed. " Oh, yes, you 
 are likely to resemble the draggle-tailed ' Sappho ' in any 
 way whatever 1 Besides I hear that ' Sappho ' has given 
 up gasping poetry for the present ; her hysterics have 
 taken another form — infuriated magazine-articles ; and she 
 is raging and howling and lashing the vices and follies of 
 mankind with whips of scorpions — the gay old spinster 
 that she is ! " 
 
 " And then, you know," said Briseis, with blithe uncon- 
 cern, " these songs are all so sad ; and why should one seek 
 sadness unnecessarily ? " Indeed, any passer-by, chancing 
 to notice the happy eyes and the free and buoyant step of 
 this girl, would have found it difficult to associate her with 
 any form of sadness. Youth, and a serene sweetness of 
 look, and the satisfaction of pleasant companionship — these 
 were visible in her face ; but not sadness. It would have 
 been hard to believe that those beautiful, smiling eyes had 
 ever burned hot with tears, or were ever likely to do that. 
 "There is one of the Russian songs," Briseis continued, 
 "that they sing at a wedding — the friends of the bride 
 sing it as a kind of chorus — and that too is sad — why ? 
 ^Yhy should it be so ? The bride is represented as 
 
 2
 
 196 BRISETS 
 
 trembling for fear, and she hides for safety in her mother's 
 love — ah, but it is too tragic to be spoken of. And why — 
 why ? Why should there be dread and evil presentiments 
 on a wedding-day ? " 
 
 For a moment something seemed to clutch at his heart. 
 But only for a moment : he had acquired the habit of 
 shutting out the future from him. 
 
 " Dread and evil presentiments on a wedding-day ? " he 
 repeated, absently. " AVhy, indeed ? " 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 AN AWAKENING. 
 
 The cold and clear October sunlight shone over Regent's 
 Park ; from the riLstling branches an occasional yellow leaf 
 fluttered down and floated on the silvery and shimmering 
 waters of the lake ; the wide open swaths and undulations 
 of greensward were almost empty ; and far away beyond 
 these the encircling belt of chestnut and sycamore and elm 
 had grown dim and distant in the pale blue London haze. 
 In a sheltered nook within this great solitude Briseis and 
 her lame cousin had sought out their accustomed retreat ; 
 and she was reading to him, with that proud thrill in her 
 voice that could make of his tremulous, emotional nature a 
 sort of stringed instrument answering to her every touch : 
 
 • Now, God be praised, the day is oura. Maycnne hath turned liis 
 
 rein. 
 D'Aumale hath cried for quarter. The Flemish count is slain. 
 Tlieir ranks are breakinj^ like tliiu clouds before a Bisoiy gale ; 
 The field is heaped with bleeding steeds, and flags, and cloven 
 
 mail ' 
 
 Some one approached ; and, as was her wont on such 
 occasions, she merely lowered her tones, and continued her 
 reading, without looking up. The stranger was a young 
 man of about five-and-twenty, of a complexion so bloodles.s 
 that its waxen pallor had a suggestion of green here and 
 there in the shadows ; his eyes wore small, black, furtive, 
 and abnormally close together ; his small black mustache
 
 AN AWAKENING \cyj 
 
 was carefully pointed at the ends ; his features ^v ere of the 
 degenerate Hellenic type that one frequently observes in 
 the streets of Algiers or on the quays of Syracuse. As for 
 his costume, there was a sort of Bank Holiday display 
 about it ; he wore a broad turned-down collar, a preten- 
 tiously arranged tie, prominent cuffs with large silver links, 
 and a straw hat with a black band round it : there was 
 also a black band round his arm. He had been surveying 
 this little group of the two cousins before he ventured to 
 draw near ; but now he came close up, and stood motion- 
 less ; so that Briseis was forced to raise her head. 
 
 " Andreas ! " she exclaimed. 
 
 There was neither welcome, nor misgiving, nor alarm 
 in the look with which she regarded him : only blank 
 astonishment, even bewilderment. 
 
 " Yes, no doubt you are surprised ? " he said, speaking 
 in Romaic. " May one sit down ? Thank you. No, I do 
 not suppose you have heard anything of me since the time 
 that Irene was taken away from us. Poor Enie ! — poor 
 Enie I " He glanced at the black band on his sleeve. 
 " And yet it was her death that was the beginning of my 
 misfortunes. I had got a very good post in the French 
 consulate at Smyrna ; but I had to give it up when I left 
 to administer the family affairs at home ; and since then I 
 
 have " He threw out his hands with a little expressive 
 
 gesture. " I have drifted — drifted until I find myself here 
 in London, talking to my old friend Briseis Valieri, as if 
 we were once more on the beach promenade at Phalerum." 
 
 She did not seem overjoyed. 
 
 " I was very sorry to hear of poor Enie's death," she 
 said, " but she had been suffering for so long, had she not ? 
 And you — what are your plans ? Have you come to 
 London on business ? " 
 
 The coldness of her tone seemed to indicate that she was 
 not anxious to detain this young man with the shifty, 
 watchful eyes and the showy neckerchief and cuffs. 
 
 " Business ? — yes 1 " he said, slightly shrugging his 
 shoulders. " If so great and rich a city as London can fiud 
 enough to satisfy the very humble requirements of Andreas 
 Argyriades. But in the mean time — at this moment — I 
 am here on a little friendly errand to yourself."
 
 198 BRISEIS 
 
 (( 
 
 To me ? Why to me ? " she demanded. She could 
 scarcely conceal her dislike — her impatience to be quit 
 of him. 
 
 " Your young companion here," he asked, as a cautious 
 preliminary, " does he understand our language ? " 
 " No," she answered, shortly. 
 
 " Ah, then, so much the easier," he said, in a suave 
 fashion ; and he seemed to settle himself comfortably down 
 to tell his story. " You know, my dear friend, how 
 methodical our poor Enie was — so perfect in all her dis- 
 positions ; and the same orderliness I found when I had to 
 examine her effects, for that duty also devolved upon me. 
 So that, in going through her escritoire, when I came upon 
 a packet neatly tied up and labelled outside 'The Love- 
 Lctters of Briseis ' " 
 
 Briseis started. But he appeared to take no notice. 
 
 " 1 said to myself : ' Ah, then, Irene wished to be 
 
 an authoress : here is the MS. all prepared and ready to go 
 to the publisher.' Nevertheless, when I opened the 
 package, I discovered that the writing was not Irene's 
 writing, but that of her dear friend and companion, Briseis 
 Valieri ; and I said to myself : ' Well, if it is she who 
 •aspires to be an authoress, that also is very good.' And I 
 read a little — oh, such beautiful language — such elegant 
 French — such impassioned descriptions of stolen interviews 
 ■ — moonlight — in the groves of Zante— and I said to 
 myself : ' Surely this little book, when it is published, will 
 create some stir : it will show to all the world that our 
 Greek girls of tlie present day have fire, imagination, 
 enthusiasm ? ' But when I read further and further, what 
 was my astonishment 1 These love-letters were not exer- 
 cises in literature— ah, no ! — they were addressed to one 
 whom we all know very well — to George Lamprinos " 
 
 A crimson flush had mounted to her forehead : the little 
 lame boy in the Bath chair, looking and listening and 
 wondcriug, had never before seen his pale and beautifid 
 cousin so confused and distressed. 
 
 " Where are those letters ? " she said, in a low voice. 
 
 *' They are in London," he answered her, gently. 
 
 " And in your possession ? " 
 
 He nodded assent.
 
 AN AWAKENING 199 
 
 " Have you brought them with you ? " 
 
 "Ah, no — they are too valuable to carry about with 
 one " 
 
 " Valuable ? " she repeated, indignantly. " They are 
 valuable to no one I But they are mine ; and I demand to 
 have them sent to me at once. By what right do you keep 
 them back for a moment ? It was most wicked of Irene to 
 
 preserve them " She checked herself — for she was 
 
 speaking of the dead. " At least she knew they were to be 
 destroyed " 
 
 " But poor Enie was always so methodical," Argyriades 
 murmured, as he played with the silver links of his red- 
 striped cuffs. 
 
 "I must have those letters, and at once," Briseis said, 
 peremptorily. " They belong to me : I demand that you 
 send them to me at once." 
 
 " Oh, yes, truly and certainly, my dear friend," he re- 
 sponded, in a placid manner. " But consider for a moment. 
 In this world it is every one for himself ; especially when 
 one is in hard straits, as I am. And it is so fortunate for 
 you that those letters fell into my hands — ah, now, if it had 
 been my brother Demetri who had got hold of them, what 
 a position would be yom-s 1 Demetri has a heart of stone ; 
 he would have said to himself ' With these compromising 
 letters in my possession ' " 
 
 " They are not compromising letters — as you know 
 perfectly well 1 " she broke in, scornfully. 
 
 " They speak for themselves," he replied, with a quiet 
 smile. "But calm yourself, my dear friend. It is not 
 Demetri who has the letters j it is I. Demetri would have 
 said ' Here is a rich young lady, who has rich friends and 
 relatives : with these confessions in my hands, I can extort 
 what I please : my fortune is made.' But I am not such 
 as that. No. I only ask for a little consideration. It has 
 been at great cost to myself that I have brought these 
 documents all the way from Athens " 
 
 She had recovered her composure by this time. 
 
 " You could not have sent them to me ! " she said, in 
 open disdain. " There is no service of posts between Greece 
 and England I " 
 
 " Ah, but the papers are too valuable," he pleaded.
 
 200 BRfSEIS 
 
 " And if tliey were so compromising," she continued, " if 
 you thought they were so compromising, it never occurred 
 to you that you could burn them ? " 
 
 " But in that case," he rejoined, with an adroit plausi- 
 l)ility, "you would never have known that I wished to do 
 you a favour. No, I had to bring them personally — and at 
 great expense. Then there is the further large expense of 
 my being in London : it was long before I could find you, 
 and become acquainted with your habits, so that I could 
 communicate with you in safety. And therefore I recom- 
 mend myself to your gracious consideration, before I can 
 hand over the letters to you. I have done my best — and at 
 large expense ; and I have no wish you should suffer any 
 exposure — any humiliation " 
 
 Some sudden revolt of feeling got possession of her : she 
 sprang to her feet, her splendid eyes flashing. 
 
 " Ai da ! — enough of this ! " she exclaimed. " I know 
 you, Andreas Argyriades. I know you for a liar and a thief. 
 I know that you robbed your mother and sister of every 
 coin they could earn or borrow for you.l And now you 
 come to threaten me, because you think I am alone and 
 unprotected. Well, I may be alone and unprotected, but I 
 am not a coward — believe me, I am not a coward. I tell 
 you to do what you like with those letters ! Make whatever 
 mischief you can with them ; but you shall not have a lepta 
 from me— not one single lepta " 
 
 She paused, for she was all trembling, and the quick 
 coming and going of her breath was like to choke her. The 
 terrified lad in the Bath chair could only interfere with a 
 few bewildered phrases. 
 
 " Briseis — what is this man saying to you ? — is he in- 
 sulting you ? — why don't you bring a policeman ? — I wish 
 — I could help you " 
 
 But Argyriades had put his hand on her arm ; and she 
 failed to liberate herself from his grasp. 
 
 " Listen," he said, with soft persuasion. " Listen to reason, 
 my good friend. I have no wish to make any mischief — 
 not I I But one must live ; and these papers are of value ; 
 and if I were to show them now to some one — some one like 
 the Lord Fragkis Gordon — ah, 'why do you look startled ? — 
 do you not understand that I have had to wait some time.
 
 AN AWAKENING 201 
 
 Bome good long time, to find out your circumstances, so 
 that I could approach you without danger of publicity ? 
 And the Lord Fragkis Gordon, he at least has plenty of 
 money, and he might be a little curious to see such beautiful 
 French writing. Come now, sit down, my dear friend 
 Briseis. It is so much easier to be amiable. And it is a 
 simple thing for you to regain possession of the package — so 
 very simple ; and never a word heard of it any more ; and no 
 risk of any one misunderstanding what you have written when 
 
 once you have put the bundle of sheets into the coals " 
 
 She resumed her seat ; she had grown outwardly passive ; 
 her eyes were intently preoccupied. 
 
 " Do I understand you, then," she said, presently, in a 
 subdued voice — but of course her boy-cousin could not 
 understand a word — " that you will not give me back those 
 letters unless I pay you ? " 
 
 " If you wish to put it that way," he answered her, with 
 another deprecating little gesture. 
 " How much do you want ? " 
 
 A gleam of satisfaction, not wholly concealed, shot into 
 the small black eyes. 
 
 " Ah, that is a point now. That is a point to be examined. 
 If it were Demetri — if it were Demetri who had the manage- 
 ment of this affair, he would probably say five hundred 
 
 pounds " 
 
 She answered him with a look — of impatient contempt. 
 But all the same she had grown cowed and submissive, 
 perhaps overmastered by her one desire to get these papers 
 back forthwith and have done. 
 
 " I agree with you," said he, though she had not uttered 
 a word. " That is absmd. But you do not know Demetri ; 
 he is a man of iron ; he flinches from nothing. With me 
 it is different. I wish to treat you honourably. If I were 
 not in hard straits, do you think I would ask you for a 
 single drachma ? No, truly 1 But you are rich, and you 
 have rich relatives ; while I am poor ; and one must look to 
 
 one's self " 
 
 " How much do you want ? " she said, in the same 
 hurried undertone. 
 
 " Fifty poimds," he answered, slowly ; and the small 
 black eyes furtively watched her.
 
 202 BRISEIS 
 
 " I have no such sum I " 
 
 " Thirty ? " 
 
 " Nor that ! " 
 
 " Twenty ? " 
 
 "Perhaps, if I wrote to Edinburgh, I might get as 
 
 much " 
 
 With an unexpected movement he threw up both hands, 
 as if scattering away from him all this sordid business ; and 
 he laughed. • 
 
 " Come, now, I am about to surprise you," he said. 
 " You give me bad names : in return I will show you what 
 it is to be magnanimous. I will have no further bar- 
 gaining. The letters shall be restored to you at once ; and 
 I leave it to you to send me subsequently what you please 
 — only what you please — exactly what you please — in con- 
 sideration of my expenses, and my care and trouble " 
 
 " Yes, yes," she said, eagerly. " Let me have them back 
 at once ; and I will send you what I can, from time to 
 
 time " 
 
 " And meanwhile," he said, with a propitiating air, " if I 
 
 might beg a small loan " 
 
 " I have nothing with me 1 " 
 
 " But at home — in your house," he went on, insidiously. 
 " Two pounds — three pounds — you see how my stay in 
 London has impoverished me ; and you can send it to me — 
 I will give you my address." 
 
 He took from his pocket a card that had the name of a 
 street in Soho and a number scribbled on it in pencil. 
 He handed it to her, and she quickly folded it up. Then 
 he rose. 
 
 " Farewell for the present, my dear friend ; and be just 
 when you reflect on the little transaction of this morning. 
 Be jnst and considerate. Remember how fortunate it is for 
 you to have these papers returned to you without having 
 been seen by a single eye. And in such a friendly manner. 
 Ah, if it had been Demetri now, what a terrible position 
 would have been yours. But as I tell you, Demetri has a 
 heart of iron, of steel, of diamond. Adieu, then, and an 
 revoir 1 " 
 
 He raised his hat, and was gone. But even when she 
 was rid of his presence Briseis was far from being herself
 
 AN A WAKENING 203 
 
 again ; she was altogether perturbed and shaken ; a prey to 
 doubts and anxieties, and conflicting resolves. 
 
 " Briseis," her boy-cousin said, with his large eyes full of 
 a vague apprehension of evil, " what did that man want ? 
 What is it that has troubled you so ? Did he insult you 
 that you were so scornful of him ? Of course I could make 
 out nothing — only the name of Sir Francis Gordon — yes — 
 these were the only words I could make out. But if this 
 man has been frightening you, Sir Francis Gordon would — 
 would — kill him ! " The lad spoke in panting accents. 
 And then his eyes filled with tears. " You see. Cousin 
 Briseis, I am so useless — so helpless — if any one wishes to 
 harm you, what can I do ? But Sir Francis Gordon — if 
 you were to tell him that this man had threatened you — or 
 insulted you — then you would have some one who could 
 take your part — there would be no more threatening then, 
 I think ! " 
 
 " Hush, hush, Adalbert," she said. " You do not under- 
 stand." She rose from the bench, and glanced swiftly 
 around to see if there had been any onlooker or eaves- 
 dropper : no one was near. " Come, we must be going 
 home now. And, Adalbert," she added, with some earnest- 
 ness of appeal, " I have confidence in you ; I can trust you 
 not to say a word as to what you saw or heard this morning 
 — not a word to any living creature. Indeed, it is nothing ; 
 it will all pass away and be forgotten. Not a word, 
 Adalbert, mind ; it is a secret I can trust you with ; and 
 yet what a little secret ! Soon it will be all forgotten." 
 And with that she replaced the books and newspapers in 
 the familiar receptacle and presently they had started off on 
 their way to Devonshire Place. 
 
 Luncheon on this morning was marked by a most un- 
 wonted phenomenon ; the poor little widow had become 
 quite merry and facetious — that is to say, when she was 
 not occupied in conciliating fractious tempers, and trying 
 generally to keep the Queen's peace. It was the strangest 
 sight, and almost pathetic in its way — the worn face and 
 the tired eyes betraying a sort of occult gaiety, while sho 
 even adventured upon a little joke or two, as the talk went 
 on. They hardly knew what to make of this unusual flow 
 of spirits ; but Briseis was shortly to learn ; for, as soon as
 
 204 BRISEIS 
 
 the others had dispersed she was summoned to follow her 
 aunt to her own room, 
 
 " My dear Briseis," said Aunt Clara — and for once the 
 wearied eyes looked pleased and complacent, " I have good 
 news this morning ; the telegram came almost immediately 
 you had left with Adalbert ; and yet I could not tell them 
 at luncheon, for a reason. But you have a wise head on 
 young shoulders, dear Briseis ; you will understand. Well, 
 then, it has been settled that Miss Bingham's younger 
 sister — she is only a year younger, after all — is coming to 
 stay with us, and on considerably increased terms. I would 
 say very considerably increased — only — you need not talk 
 about it to Olga or Brenda ; for the poor darlings know so 
 little of the world and its ways, they know so little of the 
 value of money that they might form perfectly wild ideas 
 about what their dress allowance should be. And I will 
 not conceal from you, dear Briseis," continued Aunt Clara, 
 with the faintest colour suffusing her pale face, " that it is 
 probable the Binghams may have been led to this decision 
 by — by hearing of the httle party that the Prince and 
 Princess were so good as to honour ; and how shall I ever 
 be able to thank that dear Sir Francis for his kindness ? 
 Of course Ada wrote home and gave a full account ; and 
 although you or I might not be influenced by such 
 considerations — for, after all, any one connected with the 
 Elliotts of the Lea is not likely to make too much of rank 
 and titles — still, you know, people in the country who send 
 their girls to town are pleased to hear that they are moving 
 in good circles, however small these circles may be. And 
 now, Briseis, now I am coming to the point," she proceeded, 
 almost excitedly, yet taking care that her voice should not 
 reach out to the staircase. "The younger girl, Carlotta 
 Bingham, will be here in a week or ten days ; and I have 
 been wondering whether we could not get up a little dance 
 — a quiet little Cinderella sort of thing — just about that 
 time ; and yet not with the appearance that it was given on 
 her account. Indeed, that is why I did not tell them at 
 luncheon of this matter having been settled : we will 
 arrange about the dance first, if it is practicable — what do 
 you tliink ?" 
 
 " I, Aunt Clara ? " said Briseis.
 
 AN A WAKENING 205 
 
 "You are so helpful — you are so quick with your 
 suggestions. And indeed it is no use giving such a thing 
 at all, however inexpensive we may try to make it, however 
 we may scrimp and save, unless we have a few people of 
 distinction — a few somebodies. And I'm sure our dear Sir 
 Francis will be able to bring his friend Mr. Heatherstone — 
 his name is in all the papers just now, over that exhibition ; 
 but first and foremost we must have Lady Hammersley. 
 And really she owes it to us, after what we did for her 
 bazaar ; with your kind assistance, dear Briseis ; and if 
 there is any one who could persuade her ladyship to fix her 
 own evening, I am convinced it is yourself, for I saw the 
 marked way she made much of you the last time we went 
 there. Now do you understand, Briseis — I want to have 
 the dance decided on before telling the girls about Ada's 
 sister ; and if you would only go now, and take a 'bus or 
 the underground out to Notting Hill and call on Lady 
 
 Hammersley " 
 
 . " Aunt Clara, it is only a little after two ! " Briseis said. 
 
 " Precisely," answered the intrepid little schemer, " and 
 by the time you get there you will find her and her 
 daughter at home — between lunch and their afternoon 
 drive. And if you put it in that informal way — asking her 
 to choose her own evening — and saying pretty things — she 
 won't refuse you — she can't refuse you — it's the very least 
 she can do after what we did for her bazaar." 
 
 So Briseis (who was thinking of widely different things) 
 had to undertake this delicate mission ; but before setting 
 forth she went to her own room and counted out her small 
 store of available wealth. It amounted to a little over five 
 pounds ; and when she had bestowed it in her purse, she 
 sat down and wrote the following note — " Dear Andreas, I 
 am sending you £5. It is all I have at present. I hope 
 you can post me the packet of letters to-night, so that I 
 may receive them to-morrow morning. — Briseis." And 
 then, when she had left the house, she walked on until she 
 came to a post-oflice ; and there she procured an order, 
 value £5 ; and that she folded and placed in the note she 
 had written. When the letter had been dropped into the 
 box outside she resumed her journey with some slight 
 feehng of relief. She could ill afford to lose the £5, which
 
 2o6 BRISEIS 
 
 was the last remnant of her quarterly allowance ; neverthe- 
 less she would free herself, once and for all, from these 
 insufferable menaces. 
 
 Her interview with Lady Hammersley turned out to be 
 wholly successful ; the jolly, red-faced, good-humoured- 
 looking woman said she would be delighted to bring her 
 daughter on such-and-such an evening ; and forthwith 
 Briseis hurried home with the important news. Then, and 
 for some days thereafter, a profound if secret commotion 
 prevailed throughout the house in Devonshire Place. A 
 programme of dances had to be drawn out and confided to 
 the stationer ; a violinist and pianist were engaged — Mrs. 
 Elliott declaring that she could not think of asking Briseis 
 to play the whole evening, especially as she would be so 
 useful in many other ways ; cards of invitation were printed 
 — "Mrs. Alexander Elliott ... At Home . . . Danciug 
 from 8 till 12 " ; and dear Sir Francis was overwhelmed 
 with gratitude because he had undertaken to bring one or 
 two dancing-men with him. As for the young ladies, it is 
 to be feared that Polyeucte, Minna von Barnhelm, and 
 I Promessi Sposi, with their respective dictionaries, received 
 but perfunctory attention ; while the masters, calling at 
 the appointed hours, found their pupils incomprehensibly 
 absent-minded. It was miUiners rather than masters who 
 were in request now. 
 
 Briseis did not sleep much on the night following her 
 encounter with Andreas Argyritidcs. She was harassed by 
 doubts as to the wisdom of her own conduct. Ought she 
 not to have held by her first impulse, and defied him to do 
 what mischief he might with those letters ? Had she not 
 declared to him that there was nothing in them that could 
 compromise her ; why not, then, have absolutely declined 
 any negotiation whatsoever ? She knew what blackmail 
 was ; she knew how commonly it was practised in some 
 countries — in France, for example, where the levying of 
 chantarje has come to be a recognized aud generally a safe 
 profession ; the rascally character of Argyriades was as clear 
 to her as daylight ; and no doubt (she said to herself) she 
 ought to have dared him to the end. But then this otiier 
 way seemed so simple and easy. The payment of a few 
 pounds — the letters back in her possession — and there
 
 AN AWAKENING 207 
 
 could be no possibility of further trouble. Thus she lay 
 through the long hours of the night, striving to reassure 
 herseK, torturing herseK with misgivings, and craving 
 for the coming of the new day and the postman's ring at 
 the bell. 
 
 When the bell did ring she was standing by the door, 
 which she instantly opened. There was no packet for her 
 of any kmd. But there was a letter ; and that, retreating 
 into the dusk of the hall, she proceeded to read. It was 
 from Argyriades. He began by expressing devout contrition. 
 In saying that the package he had discovered among his 
 sister's effects was now in his possession, he had, he said, 
 erred by anticipation. It had not yet arrived ; but doubt- 
 less it would be forthcoming within the next few days ; 
 failing that, it might be assumed that it was being held 
 back by his brother Demetri, who would be expecting a 
 small present. If she were impatient, and wished to have 
 these documents without delay, would she send him another 
 £5, to be forwarded to Demetri, who would no doubt 
 respond ? — • — 
 
 She hardly read the rest : she knew the man lied. And 
 with eyes burning with ^vTath and scorn she went rapidly 
 to her room, and wi'ote a note, telling him that he lied. 
 She demanded to have the letters returned to her at once. 
 She would give no further £5 ; she presumed he knew 
 what punishinent was reserved in this country for scoun- 
 drels attempting to obtain money by threats. She wrote 
 this letter in French — so that chanteur and chantage 
 occurred pretty frequently in it. 
 
 But no reply came. Then she wrote again, and again — ■ 
 with a like result. And at last she adopted a prouder 
 attitude. She would bother herself no more with this 
 hound of a creature, who had stolen from his dead sister's 
 desk. He might do what he pleased with the letters. She 
 would think no more of them. And she had enough to 
 occupy her attention at the moment, with this whole 
 household of girls coming running to her every now and 
 again for advice and help. Nay, she herself was looking 
 forward with more than interest to this joyous little 
 festivity. She wondered at what hour Sir Francis Gordon 
 would arrive. She would hke to give him the first
 
 2o8 BRISEIS 
 
 dance. And she had decided that as the sole ornament of 
 her black dress she would wear in her bodice a bunch of 
 yellow roses : he had greatly admired some yellow roses, on 
 one occasion, when they were passing a florist's window in 
 Eegent Street. And would he remember ? 
 
 That proved to be a fateful evening — for one of the 
 persons concerned, at least. Frank Gordon was somewhat 
 late in arriving ; as he handed over his coat and hat to the 
 manservant, he could hear the hushed sound of the music 
 overhead ; already there were several couples hanging 
 about the upper part of the staircase, either to avoid 
 the infliction of a square dance, or to indulge in a little 
 aimless prattle. And just as he was about to ascend and 
 make his way through these loungers in order to present 
 himself to his hostess, who else than Briseis should come 
 out of the dining-room. She seemed in a hurry ; it was 
 by a sort of accident that she turned to see who this latest 
 arrival might be ; but the next instant she had stopped 
 short, while the look of welcome and gladness and kindness 
 that leapt to her glorious eyes was surely enough to have 
 turned any young man's head. And in that bewildering 
 moment he thought he had never seen her so beautiful. 
 There was a sort of semi-dusk here at the foot of the stair- 
 way ; and the dark figure with its bunch of yellow roses 
 appeared all the more effective for it ; but the compelling 
 attraction was the smUe of her parted lips, with all that 
 that meant of affection and good-will. 
 
 " You are late," she said. " I had intended to give you 
 the very first dance — if you wished it " 
 
 " Then let us go up now," he said, promptly, " and we 
 will call the next dance the first dance " 
 
 " Ah, no, no," she answered him, laughing. " I am too 
 busy at present. Auut Clara can't do everything " 
 
 " And you are not going to give me a dance at all ? " he 
 said, reproachfully. 
 
 " Oh, yes — perhaps a little later on — when all the shy 
 young ladies have been provided with partners. But very 
 soon I shall have to ask you to take Lady Hammersley 
 down to supper — she says she wants to know you — she 
 has relatives somewhere in the Highlands." And with 
 that she went lightly and quickly up the staircase, dis-
 
 AN AWAKENING 209 
 
 appearing into the crowded and brilliantly-lit room ; while 
 he, somewhat discontentedly following, had to seek out 
 Mrs. Elhott, to pay his respects in due form. 
 
 The strange thing was that until this very moment he 
 had never even contemplated the possibility of his being 
 permitted to dance with Briseis. If he had thought of the 
 matter, he would have told himself that she must dance 
 beautifully : her perfect figure, the gracefulness of all her 
 movements, her sympathetic ear, were all assurances of 
 that ; but somehow it had never occurred to him that on 
 him might fall the entrancement of finding her hand on 
 his shoulder, her head close to him, while the cadenced 
 rise and fall of the music carried them away together into 
 a dream-world of forgetfulness. He had come to this 
 chance little party in a perfunctory sort of fashion. Mrs. 
 Elliott had been kind to him ; he considered that he 
 ought to put in an appearance ; and he was quite ready to 
 pilot Miss Olga through the Lancers, or teach the livelier 
 Miss Ada the latest evolution of the Highland Schottische. 
 But that his fingers should be clasping Briseis's fingers — 
 his arm partly round her lissome and yielding form — the 
 yellow roses so near to him that he could perceive their 
 fragrance : this wondrous happening seemed hardly to be 
 in the nature of things. With all her sweetness, and 
 charm, and frank generosity, he had always felt that 
 there was something mysteriously unapproachable about 
 her ; she was not as other girls, with whom one could bo 
 easily famihar ; when a goddess appears, smiling and be- 
 nignant-eyed, prostration is the natural attitude. Serva 
 Briseis she was not — to him ; rather Vrysais — Vrysais the 
 unknown queen whose dim memory still Hngers about the 
 Lesbian shores. 
 
 He was startled out of his reverie by Briseis herself. 
 She came up to him in a brisk and bright and friendly 
 way, not in the least suggestive of forgotten queens and 
 haunted towers overlooking the far Aegean seas. 
 
 "The next is a waltz," she said, glancing at her pro- 
 gramme. " I promised it to Professor Drewer — a friend of 
 Edward's ; but he is not in the room — perhaps he has 
 left " 
 
 " Will you give it to me ? " he said, rather breathlessly. 
 
 p
 
 2IO BRISEIS 
 
 " I must wait a minute or two — two minutes at the 
 outside — and then " 
 
 The soft and melodious strains of the waltz began ; 
 Briseia was looking down the long room ; and Gordon, 
 with covert apprehension, had half turned towards the 
 portiere concealing the staircase, when there appeared 
 (whence he had come it was hard to say) a tall, thin man 
 of about thirty with a pale face clean-shaven save for short 
 black whiskers. 
 
 " This is ours, I think," he said politely to Briseis ; and 
 she — well, perhaps there was the least deprecatory raising 
 of her eyebrows as she parted from Frank Gordon — she 
 had to receive the newcomer with a little smile of greeting. 
 She put her hand on his arm ; he led her through the 
 nebulous crowd ; and presently they had gained the central 
 open space where several couples were already moving 
 swiftly and rhythmically to the undulating pulsations of 
 the music. And then these two also glided away. 
 
 And now it was that Frank Gordon's punishment began 
 — a punishment for long afternoons and days and weeks of 
 happy, careless, thoughtless self-indulgence — a punishment 
 the sternness and magnitude of which were not yet to be 
 imagined. For of course it was no mere pang of mortifica- 
 tion over Briseis having been carried off from him ; the 
 loss of a dance was a common ballroom incident ; he bore 
 the man no ill-will whatever. But as he stood there 
 looking on, watching with hungry eyes that ever-reappear- 
 ing figure — so slender, so graceful, so bewitching in its 
 allurement of sinuous motion, there was a cruel pain at his 
 heart. And why ? Any of the other girls might go 
 whirling past with looped-up skirt and clinging hands and 
 arms ; they were welcome ; he had not a thought for them. 
 But the black figure with the yellow roses : why did the 
 ever-recurring glimp-ses of her cause a dull, indefinable 
 aching, a deadened and hopeless sense of the unattainable, 
 while the vibrating tones of the violin spoke of nothing 
 but sadness, and renunciation, and wild farewell ? As yet, 
 standing there, he had no real conception of the tragic 
 circumstances in which he had become involved ; but at 
 least he knew that this vague suffering, this dark and 
 unreasoning jealousy, this blankness of despair, were
 
 AN AWAKENING 211 
 
 strange and unforeseen things, that might have con- 
 sequences he dared not contemplate. And in the mean- 
 time ? Well, he was near the door ; and in a blind kind 
 of way he pushed aside the curtains and got out upon the 
 landing at the top of the staircase, whither some straggling 
 folk had wandered to breathe the cooler air. His main 
 intent was to find some plausible excuse he could leave for 
 Briseis and Mrs. Elliott, and then to seek the seclusion of 
 his own rooms, to discover for himself what he had now 
 to face. 
 
 It was at this moment that he was seized upon by his 
 hostess, who introduced him to Lady Hammersley, and 
 asked him to take her down to supper. The roseate 
 dame with the banked-up white hair was a talkative 
 companion ; when, in the room below, he had got a 
 couple of chairs, and procured some refreshment for her, 
 she proceeded to entertain him with a voluble discourse on 
 many and diverse matters — her mission to draymen, her 
 love of horses, her abhorrence of divided skirts, and her 
 desire to visit Scotland. 
 
 " And you. Sir Francis," she said. " I suppose you will 
 soon be returning to Dee-side ? " 
 
 He seemed to wake up as if out of a dream. 
 
 " I ? " he said. " Oh, no— no. I think— I think I 
 must take a little voyage across the Atlantic, first of all." 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 "now all is done." 
 
 "Briseis," said her boy-cousin, here in Regent's Park, 
 "did you see any one as we were leaving the Inner 
 Circle ? " 
 
 " No one in particular," she answered him, carelessly. 
 "Why?" 
 
 " I suppose I must have been mistaken," he said — and 
 with that she resumed her turning over the leaves of his 
 MS. book, to choose some piece for recitation. 
 
 But nevertheless he remained restless and dissatisfied ; 
 lie kept glancing do^vn the dim blue vistas between the 
 
 p 2
 
 212 BRISEIS 
 
 trunks of chestnut and sycamore ; indeed he was so pre- 
 occupied that at first he did not notice what this was that 
 she had begun to read. And then of a sudden he became 
 conscious. 
 
 " Don't 1 " he said, quickly, his face burning red with 
 confusion. " Don't read that, Briseis 1 I did not know it 
 was there. I'm awfully sorry. I beg your pardon. I 
 forgot it was there, or I would have torn out the leaves. 
 I beg yom* pardon i" 
 
 " But what harm is there in Lord Byron's ' Isles of 
 Greece ' ? " said she, wondering. 
 
 " It is a reproach against your country — a long reproach 
 from beginning to end — and — and I don't want you to 
 imagine — that any English person would think anythiug 
 like that — or say anything like that to you " 
 
 " Indeed," said she, smiling, to this sensitive small gentle- 
 man, " it is no reproach at all, but an exhortation ; and it 
 may have had its effect, you know, Adalbert. Anyhow, 
 Greece has won her independence ; and she ought to be the 
 last to resent anything B^Ton ever wrote about her " 
 
 " Give me the book, Briseis," he said, and she handed 
 it to him ; " I will look out for something else." 
 
 But even now he did not turn at once to the MS. pages. 
 
 " Cousin Bry," he said, " you remember the man who 
 spoke to you one morning last week ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes," she made answer, lightly enough. 
 
 " Is it to avoid him that we have taken to coming here ? " 
 
 For the truth was they had forsaken their famihar retreat, 
 where aforetime they had been half surrounded by bushes ; 
 and they had sought out another secluded spot, also over- 
 looking the lake. At this present moment, they were seated 
 in a sort of open enclosure ; above their heads the spreading 
 branches of an elm ; in front of them a breadth of gi'een- 
 sward sloping doAvn to the margin of the water ; then the 
 wide space of calm sm'face ; and beyond that, on the other 
 side, a row of tall trees that did not stir a leaf on this 
 windless morning. Under that bank of foliage the oily, 
 olive-green shadows were still and dreamlike — until a swan 
 came breasting along, cleaving the liquid mnror, and 
 leaving behind it two flashing divergent lines of silver. 
 Placid and silent was this haven of rest, though there was
 
 "NOW ALL IS DONE" 213 
 
 a distant rumble of omnibuses, and though a faint film of 
 smoke telling of the great city rose into the mingled white 
 and azm'e of a cirrhus sky. These surroundings of theirs 
 were no doubt common enough ; and yet there was a 
 certain sense of remoteness ; even the hushed roar of the 
 omnibuses had at times a suggestion of the sea. 
 
 When Briseis was asked whether she had chosen this 
 isolated refuge in order to escape from Andreas Argyriades, 
 she laughed — a little uneasily. 
 
 " Why, what do you take me for, Adalbert ? " she said. 
 " Do I look as if I were afraid of him ? Have you seen 
 me watching for him — and hiding ? But then, you know, 
 there are sometimes horrid things to be met with, like 
 blackbeetles, and mice, and earwigs ; and although one 
 isn't actually afraid of them, one would rather keep out of 
 their way " 
 
 " For if it was the same man," her cousin continued, 
 " that I saw as we were leaving the Inner Cu'cle, he appeared 
 to be following us " 
 
 " So much the better — so much the better ! " she re- 
 sponded, with blithe assurance. " We shall get our inter- 
 view over all the sooner. And you understand, Adalbert, 
 that we must be back in good time this morning : Sir 
 Francis is coming to lunch, to take some of us to the 
 theatre — The Mother in law — very amusing they say it is ; 
 and it is a great chance, for there is such a run on the 
 piece ; but he said some time ago that he would look out. 
 Adalbert, did you ever know any one quite so kind, and 
 thoughtful, and generous as he is ? " Her manner had 
 completely changed, and her expression too ; her beautiful, 
 great, dark eyes were full of a happy light ; there was a 
 soft and lingering music in the low tones of her voice when- 
 ever she chanced to speak (which was pretty often) of 
 Frank Gordon. " And then he is so modest 1 " she went on. 
 " Why, if I were he, I should be so proud — oh I so proud 
 as to be unendurable — I should want everybody to know, 
 not merely that I was Sir Francis Gordon, but that I was 
 Gordon of Grantly. And I should expect every one to 
 know the history of the clan, and all the battles and fights 
 of the old time. Why, when I was at Grantly Castle, he 
 seemed to make light of everything — the family portrait^ — •
 
 214 BRISEIS 
 
 the weapons in the hall — the ancient building itself ; he 
 seemed afraid to be thought a poseur ; he seemed to laugh 
 everything aside, and to consider his visitors as all-im- 
 portant. But there," she said, with a sudden peevishness, 
 " what is the use of my talking ? I know what your opinion 
 is : I know you detest him 1 " 
 
 " Oh, yes, of course I do," said her cousin. *' Only — 
 only I wonder where else you would find a grown-up man 
 like that — one in his position — taking notice of a lame boy 
 like me." 
 
 " There now — that's what it is ! " she broke in, eagerly. 
 *' That's just where it is ! He is generously disposed all 
 round ; there is no time-serving and respecting of persons ; 
 look at the trouble he must have been at to get you the 
 Highland dirk, and the broadsword, and the targe " 
 
 " Of course, Briseis," her boy-cousin said, " every one 
 understands why he is particularly kind to any one in our 
 house — why he comes to the house at all. Every one 
 knows : it is to see you." 
 
 But at this she drew in a little ; and there was a touch 
 of colour on her forehead as she replied — 
 
 " You must not say such things, Adalbert. They might 
 be very much misunderstood." 
 
 Some short time thereafter, happening to raise her eyes 
 from the MS. book, she saw that Andreas Argyriades was 
 approaching by one of the paths : even at a certain distance 
 she knew who this was by the green-white waxen pallor of 
 his face and the furtive and watchful look of his small 
 black eyes, to say nothing of his jaunty costume, now 
 supplemented by a cane and a pair of yellow kid gloves. 
 She betrayed no surprise — took no notice, indeed. She 
 resumed her reading, if in lower tones — 
 
 ♦Strike! and drive the trembling rebela 
 
 Backwards o'er the Btormy Forth; 
 Lot them tell their pale Convention 
 
 How tlicy fared witliin the North. 
 Let them tell that Highland honour 
 
 Is not to bo bought nor sold ' 
 
 "I beg your pardon for interrupting you, my dear 
 friend," Argyriades said, in Romaic, and with a ceremonious 
 bow he took off his straw hat.
 
 ''NOW ALL IS DONE'' 215 
 
 She looked up ; the recognition she accorded him was of 
 the slightest ; but he on his part deliberately went to the 
 foot of an adjacent tree, got hold of one of the small green- 
 painted chairs standing there, and brought it back with him, 
 seating himseK beside her. 
 
 " Now, my dear friend Briseis " 
 
 " I do not wish to hear anything you may have to say," 
 she interposed, calmly and coldly. 
 
 " Again I beg your pardon," he said, with studied polite- 
 ness, " but it is necessary you should. It is of great impor- 
 tance to you — greater than you imagine. I did not answer 
 the hasty notes you sent me ; no, for it is always unwise, 
 it is useless, to reply to what is written in anger. To 
 consider the situation quietly is the better way " 
 
 " I do not wish to consider any situation," she retorted, 
 with some greater warmth. " You know well how the case 
 stands between us. You stole from your dead sister's 
 writing-desk certain letters belonging to me. You offered 
 to hand them over to me if I paid you ; and foolishly I 
 sent you the money you demanded. Then you lied ; you 
 refused to return them, hoping for more money ; and now 
 you come here, again hoping for more money. But, sir, 
 you have made a mistake. I teU you, you may do what 
 you like with those letters. Show them to whom you like ! 
 They are perfectly harmless, as you are aware " 
 
 " Perhaps — perhaps," he replied, with absolute equanimity. 
 " Perhaps I might think so ; perhaps another might not 
 think so ; it matters nothing. But in my present hard 
 straits, if I cannot come to you now and again and ask you 
 for a little friendly help— if I am forced, greatly against 
 my will, to come to you in a different manner — I do not 
 propose to avail myself of that packet of letters at all. Oh, 
 no. I may myself burn thcan ; they are of little use to 
 me ; though I had hoped they might be the means of 
 inducing you to give a little aid to an acquaintance of 
 former times and a fellow-countryman. It was not to be 
 so. Very well. But I have other resources. Indeed I 
 may say that I have means whereby I can very easily 
 secure your consent to any arrangement I choose to 
 propose " 
 
 " Ti thauma 1 " she exclaimed, scornfully ; but she was
 
 2i6 B RISE IS 
 
 startled all the same ; his manner was so tranquil and 
 confident. 
 
 " Oh, yes, truly," he continued, crossing his gloved hands 
 the one over the other, the cane being between. " Do you 
 know why I did not answer the hurried and angry notes 
 you sent to me ? Because I wished to have more of 
 them — indignant, demanding, imperative, so much the 
 better. But on reflection I have enough. And it is with 
 these, not with the others, that I propose to secure your 
 kindness, my dear friend. I can dispense with the passion- 
 ate adorations of our good Lamprinos ; I can even burn 
 them. But what have I in their stead ? My dear friend, 
 you do not appear to perceive the situation in which you 
 have .placed yourself. Supposing that I take only the first 
 of these notes to any one particidarly interested in you, and 
 I say, ' Sir, behold here is a communication to me from the 
 beautiful Miss Yalieri ; and you will see that she pays a 
 first instalment of £5 to procure back to herself certain 
 letters : it is for you to judge whether these letters were 
 likely to have been compromising or not ' ? My dear 
 friend, you say I can work no harm. Is not that a little 
 harm ? Is not that a revenge, a just revenge, in the case 
 of your being implacable and refusing me assistance in my 
 hard straits ? " 
 
 Her look had changed. She saw how she had been 
 entrapped ; and for a moment or two she was fear-stricken 
 and palpitating. 
 
 " But the truth is stronger 1 " she said, breathlessly. 
 " Even if you tried such a base and wicked thing, the truth 
 would defeat you 1 For any one would immediately answer 
 you, ' Produce, then, the compromising letters ' " 
 
 " And if these were destroyed ? — or missing somewhere 
 in Greece ? " he said, placidly. " If there remained only 
 this plain and evident testimony that you were so anxious 
 to get them back that you paid a first instalment of 
 money " 
 
 At this moment there chanced to come along one of the 
 workmen of the Park, carrying some garden implement in 
 his hand. As soon as he was near enough, Adalbert Elliott, 
 who had been watching his cousin's face with the intensest 
 scrutiny, and who was almost voiceless, indeed, with excite-
 
 ''NOW ALL IS DONE'' 217 
 
 ment and indignation — Adalbert managed to call aloud 
 from the Bath chair — 
 
 " Gardener — gardener — come here for a moment 1 Or 
 will you go for a policeman ? — will you send a policeman 
 here ? — there is a lady being terrified by this rascal " 
 
 The British workman does not like meddling in matters 
 which he does not understand. The official in mole-skin 
 stood staring with bovine eyes at the members of this little 
 group, looking from one to the other, saying nothing, ask- 
 ing nothing. But Briseis herself addressed him hurriedly — 
 
 " No, no, it is all a mistake. Never mind ; it is nothing. 
 We were merely talking. This gentleman is my friend." — 
 ' God, what a friend ! ' she said to herself, as the gardener 
 went leisurely on his way. 
 
 " What does your young companion wish ? " asked Argy- 
 riades, calmly, with a glance at the lad's flushed cheeks and 
 panting breast. 
 
 " He wishes a policeman to be sent for," was her instant 
 retort. 
 
 " What, for me ? " he said, elevating his eyebrows 
 slightly. " Ah, that would be so unpolitic. You surely do 
 not court exposure, my dear friend ? If there is any ex- 
 posure, if there is any lamentable result, then it is owing to 
 you, not to me. Besides, what am I doing that is against 
 English law ? Here I am sitting quietly, advising an old 
 acquaintance as to what is best in her own interests. Not 
 a single threat even — everything amicable. Now if it were 
 Demetri that you had to deal with, ah, what a position 
 would be yours ! Demetri recognizes that in the implacable 
 fight for life it is every one for himself ; and he is merciless, 
 relentless — ^relentless, merciless. Whereas I come to you 
 and show you what danger you are in ; I wish to be your 
 friend ; I wish to help you " 
 
 " Then give me back every one of those notes I sent 
 you I " she said, imperatively. " Keep the letters ! And 
 
 keep the money I Or if it is money you want " She 
 
 hesitated. " Yes — to have done with you I will give you 
 ten pounds — I wiU give you twenty pounds — for every- 
 thing — everything — everything ! " Then again she said : 
 " No, I will not ! — not a farthing ! Oh, I don't know 
 what to do 1 " she exclaimed, almost wildly. " But this I
 
 2i8 B RISE IS 
 
 do know, that if your brother Demetri is a meaner, a more 
 contemptible scoundrel than you, then I am ashamed that 
 my country should have given birth to such a pair ! " 
 
 She rose to her feet, as if by some physical effort she 
 would throw off the coils she felt inevitably gathering 
 round her. And Adalbert, who had been looking on in the 
 greatest distress, struck in — 
 
 " Briseis, is it not about time we were getting back 
 home ? If Sir Francis Gordon is coming to lunch, we 
 must not be late, you know " 
 
 "Yes, yes, yes," she said, quickly, and she placed the 
 MS. volume in the leather pocket. 
 
 " And may not I accompany you for part of the way ? " 
 Argyriades said, blandly. "There are so many things I 
 wish to make clear to you while I have the opportunity. 
 It is not always safe to write, in delicate negotiations " 
 
 " Then you are afraid of the magistrate, after all 1 " she 
 said. 
 
 " Ah, no, no, not in the least," he responded, as he set 
 out walking by her side. " For what am I doing ? In a 
 language that no one around understands I am offering you 
 a little advice — nothing more. I show you how you are 
 situated ; and I ask you not to push me to extremities. I 
 am not revengeful ; though you have refused help to a 
 countryman, and called him many hard names. These I 
 do not heed ; these do not hurt. No, I give you my word 
 of honour, I am not revengeful ; and I do not propose to 
 show any one your written entreaties to me, if you will be 
 considerate, if you will give me a few pounds from time to 
 time, until you can give me the large sum that is to re- 
 deem what you call everything — everything — everything, 
 I am not merciless, like Demetri ; I am reasonable ; but 
 above all I am poor, and in hard straits — while you are 
 rich." 
 
 " I am not rich 1 " she answered him — but with some 
 despairing consciousness that answering was of no avail. 
 " My small fortune was lost, altogether lost ; and the little 
 I have to live on now " 
 
 " Ah, I know," he said. " I know something of that. 
 But you have rich relatives, and rich friends, and, still 
 more, you have rich expectations : do I not understand
 
 "NOIV ALL IS DONE*' 219 
 
 something of that too ? Eeflect, then. Might it not be 
 worth your while to consent to some arrangement — some 
 equitable arrangement — which would benefit me and harm 
 none other " 
 
 " I have no money — I gave you all I had 1 " she said, 
 desperately. 
 
 " Ah, but how easy for you to obtain it 1 There are 
 always guardians, trustees, relatives who can be appealed 
 to ; they advance assistance, because of the rich expecta- 
 tions — how easy all that is 1 " 
 
 And so he went on explaining her position to her, and 
 defending his own conduct, with an insinuating and subtle 
 ingenuity ; while her revolted judgment had hardly a word 
 in reply — or perhaps she did not deign to reply. In this 
 manner they left the Park, and crossed over, and got into 
 Devonshire Place ; and still he hung on to her, with his 
 crafty plausibilities carefully avoiding any distinct intro- 
 duction of a threat. But just as they were nearing the 
 house, Adalbert called out — 
 
 " Briseis, there is Sir Francis ! — won't you wait for 
 him ? " 
 
 Her eyes lighted up with pleasure and welcome — per- 
 haps with some assurance of safety too. As for Argyriades, 
 he also seemed to recognise the new-comer. 
 
 " You will let me hear from you ? " he said to Briseis, in 
 an undertone. " Adieu I " And therewith he raised his 
 hat, turned away, and made off in the direction of the 
 Marylebone Road. 
 
 Daring the next second or two something strange and 
 bewildering occurred. She was standing there, ready to 
 put into words the more than friendly greeting that already 
 shone in her face, and having no further thought at all of 
 the baneful influence from which she had just been freed. 
 As Frank Gordon came along she could see that his look 
 was following the figure of the man who had so suddenly 
 slunk away at his approach. That was but natural. He 
 may even have been surprised ; people do not usually beat 
 BO hasty a retreat ; it was enough to com-t observation. 
 But what she was not prepared for — she who had studied, 
 who knew, his every shade of expression — was the grave 
 and reserved fashion in which Gordon, who ordinarily was
 
 220 B RISE IS 
 
 BO Light-hearted and off-handed, received and returned her 
 ^velcome. Was he in trouble, then ? It could not be that 
 in an instant he had grown suspicious of her ! Only — and 
 all this happened with incredible swiftness — as he helped 
 her as usual to get Adalbert and the empty Bath chair into 
 the house, her heart sank somehow. With a strange 
 and vague alarm she felt that he and she were not as they 
 had been. And she did not know what wrong she had done. 
 
 Nor was it with much lightness of spirit that he now 
 ascended to the drawing-room, leaving Briseis and her boy- 
 cousin below. He knew that this must be his last visit — 
 or at least one of the last — to a house whither he had been 
 drawn by an unsuspected but all too powerful attraction. 
 It is true he might have made some excuse and escaped 
 from this theatre-engagement also, thereby enabling him to 
 sever the connection at once and finally ; but he did not 
 wish to do anything that would provoke remark. He 
 would rather withdraw gradually. And he would take 
 scrupulous care to show, on the one or two occasions on 
 which he might still have to meet Briseis that his attitude 
 towards her differed in nothing from his attitude towards 
 the others. He could keep his own secret — and dree his 
 own weird. 
 
 But in those hours of anxious self-examination that had 
 followed his startling discovery, during which he was 
 asking himself whether he had unwittingly been guilty of 
 exhibiting any special favour towards Briseis, there was 
 one point that pricked him hard. In making up the 
 successive small parties for concerts or picture-galleries or 
 theatres, while Mrs. Elliott's convenience, or the size of 
 the box, or some such consideration might rule out this one 
 or that of the other girls, Briseis was always included. It 
 had come to be a general understanding. It was * Briseis 
 — and who else with her ? ' And now, at the last moment, 
 here came an opportunity of showing that he had never 
 meant to treat Briseis differently from the rest. The box 
 he had secured at the theatre was for four : if she — by some 
 arrangement apparently accidental — were to be left out, 
 would not that be a demonstration of impartiality ? Surely 
 she would not feel hurt ? Surely she could not imagine 
 that any slight was intended ? The other girls were
 
 "NOPV ALL IS DONE'' 421 
 
 accustomed to be left at home from time to time. And he 
 knew that he was no traitor to Briseis in so scheming, in so 
 acting ; it was what he was in honour bound to do ; and 
 then — thereafter — let come what might 1 
 
 'He gave his bridle-reins a sliake, 
 With adieu for evermore, 
 My dear, 
 And adieu for evermore.' 
 
 Nevertheless it was in no gay mood that he now entered 
 the drawing-room, to receive the usual welcome from these 
 gabbling girls. And at the very outset they noticed the 
 alteration in his demeanour. Could this be Frank Gordon, 
 who was always so full of fun, and devilment, and wild 
 projects ? Why, so preoccupied and ill at ease was he that 
 he even condescended to talk about the weather. Beautiful 
 morning — looking like a change, though — dark clouds 
 gathering in the east — coming up against the wind — 
 
 uncommon to have thunder at this time of the year 
 
 But at this moment the little ^vidow made her appearance, 
 smiling upon her favourite as was her wont. 
 
 " I'm very sorry, Mrs. Elliott," he said to her, presently, 
 " but the only box I could get for to-day holds only four. 
 Now I don't think it was quite settled — perhaps you could 
 teU me who are going to be so kind as to make up the 
 party " 
 
 "Eeally, Sir Francis," said the widow — and her tired 
 and troubled face looked quite sympathetic and pleased as 
 she regarded the young man — "they are all so much 
 indebted to you ; but this time I do think my dearest Olga 
 and Brenda were mentioned — I wouldn't dictate — it is for 
 you to say " 
 
 " Oh, but that's aU right," said he. " That's all right." 
 And then at this point he hesitated, and very nearly broke 
 away from his resolve. He felt as if he were about to 
 strike Briseis — and that she would quiver under the blow. 
 However, he went on. " There is the fourth place, Mrs. 
 Elliott ?" 
 
 She looked at him with some astonishment. 
 
 *' Oh, yes — of course — I had assumed you would be 
 taking Briseis "
 
 222 BRISEIS 
 
 *' But haven't we been rather neglectful of Miss Cinder- 
 ella ? " he suggested. " There shouldn't be a Cinderella in 
 any house — it isn't fair " 
 
 Carlotta Bingham, who was known by this nickname, 
 and who was the youngest and latest addition to the house- 
 hold, coloured up when she heard herself mentioned in this 
 connection : she had not hitherto participated in any of 
 these little festivities. 
 
 " Oh, our dear Carlotta ? " exclaimed the widow, with 
 instant approval. " That would be so nice ! That would 
 be so kind of you, Sir Francis. I'm sure you will be such 
 a happy party. They tell me that The Mother-in-law is 
 just too laughable for anything." And so that matter was 
 settled ; and as the gong now sounded they all of them 
 trooped down to the dining-room, where Briseis had just 
 established her cousin Adalbert at the luncheon-table. 
 
 To Frank Gordon this was a sombre meal : it seemed to 
 be in consonance with the mysterious darkening of the day 
 all around them, caused by the creeping up of the thunder- 
 clouds that now himg overhead. There was plenty of 
 chattering at the table, it is true ; but to him it sounded as 
 if it came from a distance. He instinctively knew that at 
 times Briseis's eyes sought his face, questioning ; and he 
 did not dare to meet any of those timid glances. He 
 rather tried to listen to the trash that the anaemic medical 
 student was talking : it appeared to be some kind of 
 cheap cynicism — perhaps sufficient to overawe a company 
 of girls. 
 
 " "What does a man do when he's drunk ? Why, he 
 don't know ! If he's got a stiff dose of rum into him, he'll 
 turn his hand to anything. He'll quan-el with a policeman, 
 and knock off his helmet ; and that means a five-shilling 
 fine the next morning. Or he'll run out from an earth- 
 work and under heavy fire he'll pick up a wounded comrade, 
 and carry him back into safety ; and that means that next 
 day his colonel tells him he's going to recommend him for 
 the Victoria Cross. It's all a toss-up — whether it's to be a 
 five-shilling fine or the V.C. ; and when he gets sober again 
 he finds out what has happened ! " 
 
 The fond mother looked admiringly at the pallid youth ; 
 and with uumistukable pride she turned to her neighbour.
 
 ''NOW ALL IS DONE"" 223 
 
 "Well, Sir Francis, what do you say to that ? " she asked, 
 with a smile. 
 
 " There's a good deal of scepticism going about now- 
 adays," he answered her, with careless irrelevance. " Very 
 soon they'll be saying that Balbus never did build any 
 
 wall." 
 
 In fact he was paying but little heed to all this aimless 
 strife of tongues ; he was thinking rather of the moment 
 when Briseis should discover that she was to be left behind, 
 and he was wondering how she would take the unexpected 
 change. As it turned out, some chance remark of one of 
 the girls, as they rose from table, revealed the truth ; but 
 he resolutely kept his eyes away from Briseis's face. 
 Probably, he said to himself, she would show no sign at 
 all ; she was not a school-girl ; and if there was any little 
 surprise or disappointment, the general sunniness of her 
 nature would soon throw all that aside. When, a little 
 while thereafter, they parted at the front door— for she had 
 come to see the theatre-goers off — she shook hands with 
 him and bade good-bye to him just as usual ; and if she 
 regarded him with something of grave inquiry — perhaps of 
 proud and injmed and pathetic inquiry — it was mayhap as 
 well that he did not notice. He was glad to get away and 
 bury himself in this four-wheeled cab. 
 
 It might have been a hearse, as far as he was concerned ; 
 and black as his thoughts were the louring heavens over- 
 head, that looked all the more heavy and ominous because 
 of the steely half-light shining along the house fronts. 
 Fortunately the girls kept jabbering among themselves ; 
 and he was left alone in peace. What he was mostly 
 
 thinking of was this Had the last farewell been taken ? 
 
 — and in that manner ? 
 
 The four of them got into the box just as the play began. 
 It was one of those farcical comedies the hero of which 
 com-ts the laughter of the audience by exhibiting himself 
 as a helpless imbecile in all sorts of impossible situations ; 
 and in this case he was neither better nor worse than his 
 kind ; the house, from stalls to gallery, roared at the poor 
 man's perplexities and fatuities — even though at times there 
 was a sort of startled hush as the distant thunder growled. 
 But what Frank Gordon saw was the strangest thing : a
 
 234 SRISEIS 
 
 phantasmagoria with no laughter in it at all — with no 
 meaning even : a series of scenes without connection : an 
 appearance of figures that had apparently no relation to 
 each other. A fat, elderly gentleman was vociferously ii-ate 
 about something ; two young women, with tragic gestures, 
 w^ept hysterically ; the distracted tomfool tumbled in on the 
 stage with his coat half torn off his back ; there was a wild 
 conference of relatives, all of them in evening dress and 
 all of them undoubtedly insane : in short, the fun grew fast 
 and fm-ious, and the audience kept up a continuous chorus 
 of laughter, in spite of that low, muttering growl above the 
 roof. And then, once and again, there was a sudden light 
 in the upper parts of the theatre — a pale and livid flash 
 that made the other lights look orange ; then a space of 
 silence followed by an alarming rattle that seemed to shake 
 the gewgaw building and all its canvas simulacra ; and 
 after that a fierce hissing of rain that s^imded at if it were 
 descending in sheets. It was the oddest kind of accompani- 
 ment to this tangled web of nothingness that was being 
 produced on the stage ; perhaps it was some consciousness 
 of this overweighing war of the elements that distracted 
 liis attention ; at all events these figures were to h im as 
 figures in a dream ; and when at length he had to see about 
 getting his companions safely taken home, he had not the 
 faintest intelligible idea as to what had been passing before 
 him. He had been present at the performance of a 
 mystery. 
 
 When they arrived at the house, the girls would have had 
 him go in with them, for tea ; but he declined ; he resumed 
 possession of the cab, and was driven down to the Sirloin 
 Club, which snug little place he found he had all to himself. 
 So he drew in an easy-chair to the fire ; and called for a 
 reading-lamp to be placed on the small table ; and took 
 from his pocket a number of letters that he had merely 
 skimmed over in the morning. There was one from the 
 Princess, who had remarkably little to say about her future 
 daughter-in-law, and a great deal to say, of a comical kind, 
 concerning the worldly-pious waverings of the Margravine 
 of Pless-Gmunden. There was one from Lord Rockminster, 
 containing an invitation for the first fortnight in December. 
 'I'hiTc was another from Lady Adela, informing him that
 
 "NO IV ALL IS DONE'' 225 
 
 she was about to send him her new novel, and he was 
 ' honestly — honestly, now,' to tell her what he thought of it, 
 and how many of the people he could recognise. If he 
 knew of any free libraries, in the north or elsewhere, that 
 would accept a copy, she would be delighted to send one ; 
 and would it be considered a greater compliment if she 
 added her autograph ? But of course the all-engrossing 
 communication was that from Georgie Lestrange — one of 
 the first she had written after her arrival at her new abode ; 
 and these pages he pored over, and read again and again, 
 as if he were striving to learn something about the writer — 
 something more than was possible to be learnt during their 
 ■lad-and-lass skirmishing among the hills and moors and 
 river-valleys of Inverness-shire. Curiously enough, it was 
 to these wild neighbourhoods that (as soon as she had said 
 what she had to say about her brother's condition) the 
 longings of her soul seemed to return. Already Miss 
 Georgie was grown nostalgic. The sky of Florida, she 
 declared, was too palely and uniformly blue, and it was too 
 far removed away from the earth. She wanted clouds that 
 came into the picture — that were part of her surroundings 
 ■ — that lent light and shadow to the dappled straths, that 
 gave splendours of colour to the sunsets, and brought 
 majesty into the moonlight nights. All of which consider- 
 ations naturally led up to reminiscences, of a more or less 
 pathetic cast. 
 
 " Do you remember," wrote this ingenuous student of 
 art and landscape, " one morning you were fishing the 
 Priest's Bridge Pool ; and I was reading a book ; and when 
 I began to read I thought the skies were perfectly fine and 
 flawless. Then in a little while I happened to look up, to 
 see what you were doing ; and lo and behold ! there had 
 stolen into the sky, staring over the crest of the opposite 
 hill, a great mass of white cloud, not shaded with any 
 perspective, but a bolt-upright mass, a blinding white 
 against a blinding blue, and glaring at you as if it had come 
 jumping out of another world. And then such keenness 
 of colour ; the purple slopes of heather, far off as they were, 
 had come quite near — you would have thought you could 
 touch them with your parasol. Which was all very remark- 
 able and admirable ; but in five minutes the heavens were 
 
 Q
 
 226 BRISEIS 
 
 black, and the rain was whipping the Priest's Bridge Pool 
 into smoke, and I was hiding my wee self under an alder- 
 bush . . . Was that the day we startled the heron down 
 by the Silver Pool, on our way home ? Oh, the gorgeous- 
 ness of that evening ! — the hills out in the west like violet 
 velvet against the gold ; and all the tops of Aonach Mor 
 burning in crimson ; and down in the still pools, beside the 
 green alders, the crimson repeated again on the smooth 
 Avater. And there was that gray phantom of a creature ; 
 and we crept up behind the bushes ; and he was out on a 
 stone ; and I think you could have touched him with the 
 point of your rod, before he stretched out his great wings 
 and went away down the river as silently as a moth . . . 
 But best of all were the moonlight evenings — you re- 
 member ? — when we went a little way up into the open 
 forest, and listened for the belling of the stags, and there 
 was a golden moon jast over Ben-na-Van, and a mist all 
 along the moorland, and Lady Adela, and Rose, and Sibyl 
 — the White Sisters — like three ghosts, and not a single 
 word said because of the stillness. And once we heard the 
 pipes — oh ! so far away — a faint, nnearthJy cry — I never 
 heard the like of it before — it was the banshee ! Do you 
 remember the magical nights with the moonlight coming 
 through the trees on to the lawn, and the scent of sweet- 
 gale, and the murmur of the stream down in the 
 valley ? — do you remember ? — do you care to remember ? — 
 are you as anxious as I am to remember and recall ? Well, 
 well, it's no use. Only, Pm sick of blue skies — skies that 
 are monotonously and uninterestingly blue ; and my heart 
 flies away back to a country that I know — a country where 
 there are clouds, and wild seas, and rain, and silver, and 
 glorious sunsets, and mystic nights among the hills. 
 
 Vahin, dahin, 
 MdcliV ich mit dir, mein Geliebter, eiehnt" 
 
 Why, this was quite a burst of eloquence on the part or 
 Georgie ; and for the moment he, too, experienced an 
 upraising of heart in recalling their boy-and-girl escapades. 
 Surely it was none so tragic a fate to which his honour had 
 bound him ; that liappy-go-lncky companionship in tho 
 northern wilds would lead naturally ecQUgh iuto tho more
 
 ''NOW ALL IS DONE'' 227 
 
 serious, the life-long, companionship that lay before him. 
 And all would be well. 
 
 But there was something haunting him, even amidst 
 these optimistic resolves and hopes : it was the recollection 
 of a house in Devonshire Place— the front door open — and 
 a last look from which he had turned away his eyes. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 A RESOLVE. 
 
 Now hardly had Frank Gordon and the three girls driven 
 away to the theatre when the indefatigable little widow, 
 seeking to console those who had been left behind, proposed 
 that she and they should pay a visit to the Brewers' 
 Exhibition at the Agricultural Hall. Perhaps, strictly 
 speaking, this could scarcely be called introducing the young 
 ladies to polite society — at least, to any great extent ; but 
 the entertainment was cheap ; much information might be 
 acquired ; and there was a Highland piper playing outside 
 one of the distillery stalls. And so, despite the threatening 
 weather, a cab was sent for ; and Miss Ada, and Miss 
 Bowles, and Miss Tressider were bidden to get ready. _ 
 
 " I'm very sorry we can't take you as well, dear Briseis," 
 6aid the widow. " The cab only holds four, of course. 
 And besides I know you are anxious to get on with those 
 dining-room curtains ; for I wouldn't let any one else touch 
 them ; they might spoil your design ; and it was so clever 
 of you to think of a stem of maize and the simple leaves ; 
 the gold thread on the dark green cloth is so effective ; and 
 such free, bold drawing — where did you learn to do rU 
 these clever things ? — or is it just a natural gift all round "i 
 I'm so sorry we can't take you " 
 
 " Oh, but I would much rather get on with the curtains. 
 Aunt Clara," said Briseis. She had looked dazed and scared 
 all during luncheon — perhaps no one had noticed ; and now 
 she seemed chiefly anxious to get away and be alone. But 
 she remained in the hall, to help the girls on with their 
 jackets and capes. 
 
 The cab came up ; the bustling, loquacious party got out 
 
 Q 2
 
 228 BRISETS 
 
 upon the pavement — with many exclamations about the 
 thunderous look of the skies ; then they drove off ; and the 
 house again grew still. Briseis went into the school-room 
 Her cousin Adalbert was lying on the sofa, absorbed in 
 reading football news ; but as soon as he saw her, he threw 
 aside the paper. 
 
 " Briseis," said he at once, " have you and Sir Francis 
 Gordon quarrelled ? " 
 
 She hesitated. What was the use of a boy confidant ? 
 And yet she was sorely distraught ; her mind was all 
 tempest-torn with fears and conjectures ; to speak to any 
 one was an immeasmable relief. And the lame lad had 
 always been her chivalrous friend and champion. 
 
 " What makes you think that ? " she asked, evasively. 
 
 " He never left you at home before, when others were 
 going." 
 
 " Oh, that is nothing — that is nothing," she answered 
 him. " Some one must remain behind — why not I .? I 
 have had more than my share of those concerts and theatres. 
 He has been very kind to me — very " 
 
 " He hardly spoke a word to you at luncheon," her 
 cousin continued. 
 
 " There was so much talking ! " she said. 
 
 " Well, then, when he first saw you — I mean outside — • 
 when he came along the pavement — and the other man was 
 going away " 
 
 Her expression instantly changed. 
 
 " Ah, did you notice that, Adalbert ? — did you notice 
 that ? Was it so obvious that any one could notice it ? 
 Indeed I knew I could not be mistaken ! And what had I 
 done ? Why should he be angry with me ? Yes, I saw 
 him look in that curious way after Argyriades ; but why 
 should he blame me if any one speaks to me ? Why should 
 he have changed so suddenly — why should he regard me 
 with coldness and distrust ? And yet I cannot believe that 
 he could suspect me — that he could be so unjust as to 
 accuse me merely because he saw a stranger going away 1 
 No, no ; there must be something else," she went on, with 
 growing excitement. " Adalbert, what is it that I have 
 done ? What WTong can I have done ? Why did he not 
 toll me if I was to blame ? "
 
 A RESOLVE 229 
 
 She was standing by the table, her fingers tightly clasped 
 in front of her ; her hps were trembling, and her eyes had 
 filled with tears. It was a strange thing for the helpless 
 lame boy to witness. Ordinarily the demeanour of this 
 beautiful, tall cousin of his was marked by a perfect self- 
 possession — a self-possession sweet and serene and well- 
 wishing : now she was Hke some frightened child, who had 
 been reprimanded or punished for an unknown offence. 
 Yet how could the poor lad help her ? He had no wit or 
 skill in such matters. Indeed, of late, when Briseis seemed 
 to be in trouble, it had always occurred to him that it was 
 to Frank Gordon himself she ought to appeal. 
 
 " Briseis," he said, almost at random, " what does that 
 man want who has come twice to threaten you ? I cannot 
 understand a word of what he says ; but I know he 
 threatens you — you are so scornful and indignant " 
 
 "Ah, that is quite another thing," she answered him, 
 quickly. " That is a question of money ; that is a trifle ; 
 I am not so concerned about that, except at the moment. 
 
 It is not of threatening or of money that one thinks when ■ 
 
 And yet — and yet," she went on, after a second or so, 
 "there are such strange possibilities. If Argyriades has 
 already tried to make mischief — who can teU ? It is all a 
 bewilderment to me — and I have no one to guide me — no 
 one at all. And if there was any chance of mischief, don't 
 you think it would be better to sacrifice anything — anything 
 — to get rid of that man ? Don't you think so, Adalbert ? 
 If it is only a question of money, what is money ? — what is 
 any sacrifice to get rid of such a threat ? I have no money 
 — ^none at all at present ; but perhaps my trustee in Edin- 
 burgh could get some for me. Don't you think I ought to 
 buy this man off at any cost, to make sure — to make sure ? 
 ■ — don't you think so, Adalbert ? — don't you think so ? " 
 
 In her agitation she was really talking to herself ; she did 
 not wait for any reply ; and her cousin, embarrassed and 
 conscious that he was incapable of advising her, dared not 
 speak. But she seemed to have made up her mind. She 
 cleared a portion of the table. She fetched some writing- 
 materials from the top of a chest of drawers. And then 
 she sat down and hastily wrote two notes : the first of them, 
 addressed to Mr. Murray, the Edinburgh W. S., begged
 
 230 BRISEIS 
 
 him to advance her five-and-twenty pounds, if that was 
 within the scope of his powers ; the second conveyed a curt 
 intimation to Argyriadcs that she would meet him at a 
 quarter to twelve on the following morning, at the corner 
 of York Terrace and York Gate, while she added that she 
 hoped he would come prepared to state explicitly what 
 sum he would take in return for all coromunications from 
 her in his possession, including the one she was now 
 penning. These two letters, for safety's sake, she herself 
 carried to the nearest post-office box ; thereafter retm-ning 
 to the tranquil embroidery of golden stems and joints and 
 leaves on the breadth of dark green cloth. Her boy-cousin, 
 furtively regarding her from time to time, guessed that her 
 mind might not be quite as tranquil as her occupation ; but 
 he was too diffident to interfere, even with a shy word of 
 sympathy. 
 
 The day wore on, and she grew more and more sick at 
 lieart, because of all this doubt, and questioning, and anxious 
 surmise. Frank Gordon's change of manner towards her 
 had been so sudden, so unexpected, so inexplicable. ' Why 
 — why ? ' she kept asking herself. Sm*ely he could not 
 suspect or scorn her simply because a stranger in the street 
 had slunk away at his approach ? Or had Argyriades been 
 attempting to find a better market for his stolen wares ? 
 Perhaps a sample had been shown ? And she was to be 
 condemned unheard — by the one human being on whose 
 opinion and regard she had come to set such perilous store. 
 
 And then she drew a cloak of pride around her. Why 
 should she be solicitous about any man's esteem ? It was 
 for her to award favour, if she should so choose ; that was 
 her prerogative ; they who valued her approval, even to the 
 extent of a good word or a friendly look, would have to 
 come for it. The old ballads had told her what the 
 Gordons were — gay, gallant, and fickle ; ' he turned about 
 lightly, as the Gordons does a' ; ' and this one, the most 
 careless-hearted of all the race of them, if he had suddenly 
 resolved to become grave and serious and distant, was 
 welcome so to do. Nay, if he believed her capable of this 
 or that folly or infamy, it was not for her to defend herself. 
 The world was wide enough for them both ; and she was 
 no Lady Jean Melville, to take to her bed, and lie there pale
 
 A RESOLVE 231 
 
 and wan, because another of the gay Gordons had turned 
 on his heel. 
 
 That night was wet ; the rain kept softly pattering on 
 the window of her solitary little room, up in the attic ; 
 when she looked out, and down, she could see the lamps 
 throwing reflections of quivering gold on the streaming 
 black pavements. She had been crying a little, from time 
 to time. For her cloak of pride had brought her but small 
 comfort, and had long ago been discarded ; an anguish of 
 dull foreboding held possession of her ; sleep was out of 
 the question ; she was all unstrung ; and she was abjectly 
 penitent — for she knew not what. Now and again she 
 went to her mirror ; perhaps with some pathetic desire to 
 convince herseK of the splendour of her youthful beauty ; 
 perhaps merely out of dread that this unresting grief might 
 leave traces that she would find it difficult to explain on the 
 morrow. At last, hardly conscious of what she was doing, 
 she opened her writing-desk, and turned up the gas a httle, 
 and sought for and brought forth a sheet of MS. scrawled 
 and dotted over. 
 
 On more than one occasion Frank Gordon had expressed 
 himself as greatly interested in her reminiscences of Slavonic 
 and Eomaic folk-songs, and in the singular faculty she had 
 for improvising, while she was seated at the piano, some 
 Uttle story of the same fashion, and adding to it a wander- 
 ing, capricious accompaniment by way of mystical refrain. 
 He had even begged her to give him one of these com- 
 positions ; but she rarely committed them to paper ; perhaps 
 she was afraid that by accident they might come under the 
 eye of some professional critic. Nevertheless, his request 
 had remained in her mind ; and happening one afternoon 
 to find herself with a brief and unusual space of leisure she 
 had roughly jotted down the haphazard lines and notes of a 
 fragment ; and that she had put away in her desk and 
 forgotten. But now, as she took it out, she thought she 
 would make a fair copy ; and she thought she would send 
 it to him — as a timid kind of propitiation, if there was any 
 imknown cause of quarrel between them : in any case, by 
 his manner of receiving this poor Uttle peace-offering, he 
 would show how he still regarded her. And thus it was 
 that the proud-hearted Briscis brought herself to himible
 
 232 BRISEIS 
 
 contrition (for she knew not what) ; and in the dark and 
 still hours of the night she proceeded to copy carefully and 
 clearly the irregular verses and the accompanying ripple of 
 melody, though at the outset she spoiled three sheets of 
 paper, because of tears that fell. 
 
 It was a simple enough story that she had heard or read 
 of somewhere : the story of a small band of brigands over- 
 taken by the soldiery, and in the forefront of the fray the 
 young wife of the chief of the brigands, a peasant girl whom 
 he had abducted not many months before. This was how it 
 began — 
 
 Saddest bride is the stolen bride, and Elednaia is weeping. 
 Happiest bride is the stolen bride, and Elednaia smiles. 
 Proud she stands by her husband's side, at bay in the mountains, 
 Proud when the gendarme's bullet speeds straight to her heart. 
 (Creep closer, child, the moonlight is white in the forest.) 
 
 And then it went on to tell how the brigand, when his 
 band had escaped, disguised himself, and went down to the 
 nearest village, to try to obtain a permit that his wife 
 should be buried in consecrated ground ; and how his 
 disguise was discovered, and himself taken and shot. But 
 it was not of Eleanaia and her brave and luckless husband 
 that Briseis was thinking as she went on with her tran- 
 scription, scrupulously correcting here, and expanding there. 
 Surely Frank Gordon could not be offended by her sending 
 him this scrap of ballad-music, amatem-ish as it might be ? 
 He had asked for it, indeed — though that was awhile ago. 
 And anyhow it would establish some kind of link between 
 them ; he would surely write in reply ; perhaps there 
 might be an explanation. He could not take it amiss 1 
 
 iS'ext morning it was still wet ; but ere any of the 
 household were up, she had been out and- along to the 
 pillar letter-box, despatching her wistful, half-reluctant, 
 tentative appeal for reconciliation. And still it rained, on 
 and on ; and hourly London became more gloomy, and 
 squalid, and hideous. When it drew towards noon, there 
 was no thought of the lame boy going out in his Bath 
 chair ; the day was too distressing ; so he had to content 
 himself with a seat at the window, and a bundle of those 
 journals which he had found by experience gave the most 
 dithyrarabic accounts of the deeds of bis heroes, whether
 
 A RESOLVE 233 
 
 on the muddy football field or on the windy and sca-hauntod 
 links of the north. 
 
 And so it was that a little before twelve Briseis was 
 enabled to steal forth alone and perhaps unobserved to 
 keep her appointment with Andreas Argyriades. Pro- 
 tected by water-proof and umbrella she made her way 
 through the swimming streets ; and at the corner she had 
 mentioned to him she found her compatriot — looking very 
 miserable indeed, for though he also carried an umbrella, 
 it had proved inadequate to shield his Bank-holiday attire, 
 and he now presented a somewhat damp and bedraggled 
 appearance. Nevertheless his spirit was calm and un- 
 ruffled ; his seK-confidence had suffered no abatement ; 
 and he received Briseis with a profound com-tesy, watching 
 her all the while. 
 
 " Have you brought an answer for me, and a definite 
 answer ? " she asked, abruptly and coldly. 
 
 " Pardon me, my dear friend, it is not so simple as per- 
 haps you think," he replied, in his usual suave manner. 
 " There are many points to be regarded. For example, I 
 have just learnt that my brother Demetri is coming to this 
 country. Very well. When he arrives, what is the first 
 question he will ask of me ? He will say — ' Andreas, my 
 son, what have you been able to make out of the Yalieri- 
 liamprinos affair ? ' He is so mercenary, is my brother 
 Demetri I Then if I tell him some paltry sum, he will first 
 laugh at me for a fool, but afterwards he will stab me. 
 Ah, he is terrible — terrible — a famished wolf is merciful 
 compared to him ; he spares no one ; and you — have you 
 no fear for yourself if he is angry ? " 
 
 " Children's tales ! " she responded, with contempt. " Do 
 you think you can frighten me with such foolishness ? " 
 
 " Akousate me ! " he pleaded, in silken speech. " I wish 
 to be your friend ; and you will need a friend — when 
 Demetri arrives. And how can I give you a definite 
 answer : how can I tell you the exact value he might place 
 on all these papers ? No, no ; my dear young lady, be 
 guided by me ; furnish me with a small sum at present — 
 ten pormds — twenty pounds — what you please — which will 
 be a pacification for Demetri ; then subsequently we will 
 consider "
 
 234 BRISEIS 
 
 " We will not consider 1 " she retorted. " Why should I 
 give you anything ? Why should I give you a single 
 drachma ? It is only to get rid of you, once and for all ; 
 and if you refuse to agree to this conclusion, what is the 
 alternative ? The police, Mr. Argyriades ! " 
 
 He shook his head, almost mom-nfully. 
 
 " Ah, no, you could not be so unwise," he said. " What 
 have I pointed out to you before ? — that I have done 
 nothing " 
 
 " You have asked for money ; you have threatened me ; 
 you have threatened to show these letters " 
 
 " Where is your evidence, my dear friend ? Have you 
 a scrap of my handwriting as proof ? " he said, in a kind of 
 compassionate manner. "Ah, no, have done with that 
 idea 1 If you appeal to your police — ^to your English law 
 — I can suffer nothing ; but you — you will have to suffer 
 the publicity, the exposure ; and perhaps your story will be 
 believed, and perhaps it will not. It is so much better to 
 be amicable ! Give me twenty pounds— in the mean time 
 — for pacification " 
 
 " I have not a farthing ! " she exclaimed. 
 
 " Ah, then we are wasting time," he said, a little more 
 sternly. " Shall I put the matter plainly to you, my dear 
 friend ? I have certain goods to sell ; and they must go 
 to the highest bidder. I have given you the opportunity ; 
 but you allow one day after the other to pass, and you do 
 not provide yourself with the necessary funds, though you 
 could easily do so. Well ? Well, I must go to another 
 market, that is all. I know who will redeem those com- 
 promising documents— oh, yes, and at the figm-e I ask — 
 and if I have already shown him a httle sample, to tempt 
 him " , , 
 
 " Have you — dared ? " she demanded, with her cheek 
 grown a trifle paler : some wild fancy had shot through 
 lier brain that here might be the true key to the enigma 
 that had been torturing her through the long dark hom-s. _ 
 
 " I do not say yes or no, for I do not wish to commit 
 myself," he answered her, calmly. " But at least you will 
 consider what I have it in my power to do, at any moment. 
 Oil, I confess to you that at first I was not so sm-e, when I 
 was waiting and observing ; for there are several young
 
 A RESOLVE 235 
 
 ladies in the house, and the Lord Fragkis Gordon he might 
 be interested in one or the other : perhaps— shall I say- 
 it ? — it was some little touch of expression on your part, 
 when the name was mentioned, that convinced me I was 
 on firm ground. For you understand, my dear friend, that 
 though all the world must recognise ithat you are ex- 
 tremely beautiful — beautiful with a youthfulness and a 
 freshness and an animation that not aU of the prettiest of 
 our Greek girls are happy enough to possess— all the world 
 must see that ; but all the world may not know how quick 
 a tale-teller is the expression of yom: face, to one who has 
 the skill to remark. So perhaps it was yourself who con- 
 firmed my earlier surmises ? — but that is of little conse- 
 quence ; what I wish to make clear to you, perfectly clear, 
 is that I am on assured ground. Those letters that you 
 sent to me, are they not my property ? May not I do 
 what I choose with them ? May not I sell them to who- 
 ever will give most for them ? therefore you cannot harm 
 me ; but I might harm you — if you were so imprudent as to 
 drive me to extremities. Only, you will not do that. I am 
 sure you will not do that. No ; you will take into con- 
 sideration many things : your own position ; the serious 
 costs I have incurred ; and the advisability of pacifying 
 IDemetri. Is it not so ? You will be wise and reasonable ; 
 and a wise and reasonable person accepts what is inevitable. 
 Now, my dear friend, I cannot keep you standing here in 
 the rain— it is dreadful ; tell me, what can you give me 
 that will propitiate Demetri when he arrives ? " 
 
 " I have nothing to do with him," she said, hurriedly — 
 but her attitude was less defiant. " I want back the letters 
 you have of mine ; and I ask you, once for all, what I 
 must pay for them, to have an eud. At present I have no 
 money, as I told you before ; but I have written to my 
 trustee in Edinburgh, to see if he can let me have twenty- 
 five pounds " 
 
 " Yes ; twenty-five pounds ? " he repeated, in an en- 
 couraging way. "That would do very well to pacify 
 Demetri " 
 
 " I have nothing to do with Demetri I " she broke in again. 
 
 " But if he is bringing with him the Lamprinos letters ? " 
 he said, insidiously.
 
 236 BRISETS 
 
 " And you said you had them here in London 1 " 
 
 " Ah, yes, I may have been a Uttle premature — but that 
 is nothing," he said, coolly enough. " Well, then, let us 
 say that so far it is arranged : twenty-five pounds to 
 propitiate Demetri. And after ? " 
 
 " After ? — not one lepta ! No, nor one atom of com- 
 munication between you and me I I must have the whole 
 of the letters — every one of them : I will verify them 
 myself ; I will bm-n them myself ; and then — nothing 
 between you and me 1 " 
 
 " And all that is to come about for twenty-five pounds ! " 
 he said, elevating his eyebrows in affected surprise. " Really, 
 if it were not so serious a matter, one might laugh. My 
 dear young lady, you do not seem to comprehend : one 
 does not undertake such trouble as I have encountered 
 for a miserable twenty-five pounds — no, nor anything like 
 that ! " 
 
 " What can I do more 1 " she cried, in a desperate kind 
 of way — for the ingenuity of his arguments had confused 
 her amidst her vague alarm and distress. 
 
 " But no, it is not for me to dictate ! " he said, blandly. 
 " As I have told you, you have rich friends — and they must 
 know of your great expeqtations — and if you wish for 
 money, why " 
 
 " I cannot get more than that ! " she protested — but 
 more humbly now. 
 
 He shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 "Ah, well, there is then the alternative. If one will 
 not pay, the other must. I have only to show these letters 
 to the person you are thinking of at this moment, and I 
 have only to say to him ' If you are interested in the young 
 lady, would it not be generous of you to pay a considerable 
 sum to withdraw such compromising documents from being 
 handed about ? ' " 
 
 " And you say you do not threaten 1 " she interposed, 
 Bcomfully. 
 
 " Pardon me," he answered her. " What I said was 
 tliat you had nothing to show that I had threatened. — 
 But come, come, my dear friend, I do not wish to threaten 
 at all. Why should we quarrel ? We are quite harmoni- 
 ously agreed so far. You will send me the twenty-five
 
 A RESOLVE 237 
 
 pounds, to make the best bargain I can for you with 
 Demetri. That is the first step " 
 
 " And the last," she said. " It must be first and last — 
 or none. And if I send you the twenty-five pounds, how 
 am I to know that you will return me the letters — every 
 one of them ? " 
 
 " You cannot trust me, then ? Ah, that is the worst of 
 having to do with one like Demetri," he proceeded, in a 
 regretful fashion. " If it had not been for him, you would 
 have had the packet long before now. But Demetri, he 
 is insatiable. Never mind. You have done well. You 
 have left me to deal with him. Do not fear. I will defend 
 you against Demetri. Consider me the protector of your 
 interests. You wiU send me the twenty-five pounds ; and 
 I will make the best bargain I can for you ; and there will 
 be no need to show these very strange letters, these very 
 damaging letters, to any other person. You have done 
 well, my dear friend, rest assured. It rejoices my heart 
 to find you so placable, so reasonable. I give you my word 
 of honour that you have resolved wisely. For what is the 
 matter of a few pounds ? What is a trifling matter of 
 money to a beautiful young girl when her good name might 
 be called in question " 
 
 " My good name ? " said Briseis — with a flash of her 
 eyes. 
 
 " Ah, no, no — I meant by those who did not know her," 
 he replied, softly. " That is a precious possession for a 
 young gu'l, her good name ; and of course you have acted 
 with discretion. And it is so much pleasanter to have these 
 amicable relations established. Need I tell you that if it 
 had been war between us, it would have been a somewhat 
 serious war ? The famished wolf lias no time to think of 
 scruples ; and here am I, in the most desperate of straits, 
 and with Demetri coming over to demand explanations. 
 But that is all past now. AU is to be amiable and pleasant. 
 And when, if I may ask, do you expect to receive the 
 twenty-five pounds ? " 
 
 " To-morrow, perhaps, or next day," she said, almost 
 mechanically — for her brain was perplexed and bewildered 
 by the ingenuities of his representations. 
 
 " Ah, that is well," said he ; " and may I as a last word
 
 238 BRISEIS 
 
 congratulate you, my dear friend, on the wisdom of your 
 decision ? You have done well. Confide your interests 
 to me ; and I will secure you against Demetri Argyriades. 
 Adieu, then — for the rain is terrible. Within the coming 
 day or two I shall hear from you ; until then — adieu ! " 
 
 " Sas proskund," she answered him, absently ; and the 
 next moment she found herself alone, standing there in 
 the midst of this wet and dismal London. 
 
 The following two or three days were for Briseis Valieri 
 little else than a prolonged agony of suspense and dim 
 apprehension. Every ring at the door-bell caused her heart 
 to jimip ; but the posts came and went, morning, noou, 
 and evening, and not even a line arrived from Frank 
 Gordon to say that her little propitiatory offering had been 
 received. And then her heart would grow hot, and her 
 cheek would tingle with maidenly pride and shame. Had 
 she humbled herself only to be spurned ? Had she placed 
 herself in the position of a suppliant, when indignant 
 reserve and silence would have better become her ? 
 
 The Edinburgh W. S. had promptly replied, enclosing 
 his own cheque for the amount she had mentioned, and 
 politely adding that it gave him pleasure to comply with 
 her request. But she hesitated about sending the money 
 on to Argyriades, not because of its value, but because she 
 had a sort of despairing consciousness that it would not 
 really and finally free her from tlie terrorism which he was 
 endeavouring to estaljlish over her. Nay, it might even 
 more hopelessly involve her in the toils he was obviously 
 trying to wind round her. It was only when he was 
 talking to her — when he Avas exercising a devilish cimning 
 in describing to her the helplessness of her position — that 
 she felt ready to give him anything, to promise him any- 
 thing, in order to get rid of him at once and forever : 
 when she was outside the influence of his plausible speech, 
 she could see clearly enough that whatever she might give 
 or promise would only place her more completely within 
 his grip. Unhappily she had already gone too far. She 
 had sent him money ; she had written urgent notes de- 
 manding the return of certain papers ; she had referred 
 to interviews, and made appointments. And how was all 
 this to be undone by her lorwarding to him the sum of
 
 A RESOLVE 239 
 
 money she had just received from Edinburgh ? It would 
 but place another weapon of coercion in his hands. 
 
 However, that disquietude, harassing as it might be, 
 was now eclipsed by a greater that in a way arose out of it. 
 When day after day passed and nothing had been heard 
 in answer to her timid little presentation of the Greek 
 ballad, she began to convince herseK that Argyriades, in 
 some measure at least, must have carried out his threat. 
 Had he, then, gone to Frank Gordon, and, without actually 
 showing documents, intimated that he had secrets to 
 sell ? Or had he taken with him one of the letters and 
 produced it to see if he could find a purchaser for such 
 compromising wares — one who, from magnanimous friend- 
 ship or from any other motive could be induced to buy 
 these things that he might destroy them ? And what, she 
 asked herself, in such circumstances would a straight- 
 forward young Englishman be likely to do ? Why, without 
 doubt, he would forthwith kick the scoundrel out at the 
 door. Yes ; but the knowledge would remain ; and might 
 be dwelt upon, and perhaps magnified. And who could 
 wonder if this same clean-minded young Englishman should 
 decline to have any fm'ther association with a girl who 
 appeared to have doubtful antecedents, whose conespou- 
 dence was passing about as bank-notes in the hands of 
 blacklegs and blackmailers ? 
 
 All this fretting and guessing may have unhinged her 
 judgment a little ; but gradually she became possessed with 
 the resolve, at once piteous and imperious, that at any 
 cost she must set herself right with Frank Gordon. What- 
 ever had happened, she must know the truth ; whatever 
 had happened, he also must know the truth. And she 
 would go direct to himself. It was an unusual, perhaps 
 an unmaidenly, thing to do ; and it might involve a certain 
 abasement ; but it was too late to take such minor con- 
 siderations into account. She would go direct to himself^ 
 and find out with her own eyes.
 
 340 BRISEIS 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 FACE TO FACE. 
 
 The bronzed November sunshine was streaming into a 
 spacious and lofty apartment in one of the Northumberland 
 Avenue hotels ; and up at the end of the room stood Lady 
 Adela Cunyngham and Frank Gordon, talking to each 
 other, and looking down the long tables that were laid out 
 for luncheon, and that presented quite a pretty spectacle 
 \vith their silver and fine linen, their glossy menu-cards, 
 and their floral decorations of chrysanthemums and old- 
 man's-beard. 
 
 " So kind of you to come and help me 1 " said the 
 handsome young matron. " What should I have done — a 
 poor lone woman arriving all by herself in London — not 
 even Rose or Sibyl turning up to lend me a hand ; and as 
 for Sir Hugh — I suppose Sir Hugh will think he has 
 fulfilled his part when he pays the bill. But I had no 
 scruple about asking you, when I learnt you were in town ; 
 for you know. Sir Francis, we look on you as one of the 
 family now, ever since we heard of your engagement. 
 And, by-the-way, when is Georgie coming home, if her 
 brother is so much better ? " 
 
 " Soon, I believe," he answered her. *' I have offered to 
 go over to New York, to bring her back ; but nothing 
 definite has been settled." 
 
 Lady Adela cast another surveying and satisfied glance 
 along the brilliant tables. 
 
 " Well, I think all is right now ; and we may as well go 
 into the reception-room. Oh, one moment. Sir Francis," 
 she said. " I ordered the wines you mentioned ; but I 
 did not say anything as to quantities. Now, you know, 
 Sir Hugh is the most generous of men ; but he is business- 
 like as well ; and assuredly he will look into the account ; 
 and with regard to these wines, how is one to know what 
 has been used — how will there be any check ? " 
 
 "There will be Sir Hugh's cheque," he said, with a 
 school-boy grin.
 
 FACE TO FACE 241 
 
 " I 1 really do think I should have accepted the hotel 
 proposal — so much a head " 
 
 " Not at all I " he said, promptly. " There won't be 
 any wine drunk — none to speak of. Do you think the 
 Hypatians are likely to take wine at luncheon ? If one of 
 them should break out into wild carousal — a furious Maenad 
 — she may put two lumps of sugar into her tea ; but the 
 orgie won't go further than that. Oh, there is Aunt Jean," 
 he added, as he saw some one pass the door. 
 
 Accordingly the two of them went into the reception- 
 room, where Miss Jean Gordon was found to be the first 
 comer. 
 
 " These miUiners and their charges will just be the ruin 
 of me I " said she — for she had come south to pay a series 
 of visits, and was busily preparing for the same, 
 
 "Now, Aunt Jean," her nephew proceeded — for Lady 
 Adela had turned away to receive the new arrivals — " I'll 
 tell you about some of the people you are to meet " 
 
 " But if they are as celebrated as you say, surely I'll 
 recognise them by head -mark ? " 
 
 "Well, yes, they are celebrated," he replied, somewhat 
 evasively. " They are celebrated, certainly — but — but it's 
 mostly amongst themselves they are celebrated. I don't 
 know that their names have travelled as far as Dee-side. 
 Anyhow, they are extremely important people ; and mind, 
 when you're talking to any of them, to put in a good word 
 for Lady Adela's new novel " 
 
 " Merciful me, laddie, I have not read a word of it 1 " 
 cried Aunt Jean. 
 
 " No, nor has anybody else, for it isn't published yet," 
 her nephew explained to her. " But why should you not 
 be supposed to know all about it ? — and these writing-people 
 will put paragraphs in the papers, and make a stir— don't 
 you understand that ? Have the Dee-side folk got so little 
 giuoaption as not to understand that ? — and why this 
 elaborate entertainment is given ? Now don't forget. 
 Aunt Jean : the title is Faded Jonquils ; and all kinds of 
 well-known personages figure in it ; it is a brilliant picture 
 of society ; the disguises are delightfully thin ; if you're 
 anybody at all, you'll recognise the whole crowd. One or 
 two most distinguished critics have seen the proof-sheets,
 
 242 BRISEIS 
 
 and are charmed ; and she'll get a testimonial from Mr. G. 
 or she's not the woman I take her for. Now let me see : 
 I'd better tell you whom yoii'U sit next. On your left will 
 be a Mr. Quincey Hooper — he's the London correspondent 
 of an American paper ; nothing to alarm you about him ; 
 he'll probably tuck the corner of his table-napkin under his 
 chin, and he'll certainly talk all the time about lords ; 
 nothing worse than that. Then on the other side you'll 
 have a Miss Penguin. She's a poetess — a great, wild, 
 fearsome poetess. But you won't mind. She's a giddy old 
 crock ; and she'll tell you strange stories about a set of 
 people whom she calls the aristocracy. She doesn't know 
 anything about them ; but that's neither here nor there ; 
 and she's a playful old kitten : you'll find her great fun. 
 Oh, here's my beneficent Miss Caledon — I must go and 
 speak to her " — and off he went to welcome the intrepid 
 young lady- journalist, whose extremely pretty gray eyes 
 appeared at this moment to have something of demure 
 amusement in them. 
 
 Now if it was by way of a trick that Frank Gordon had 
 foisted the Passionate Poetess on to poor, innocent, unsus- 
 pecting Aunt Jean, he was well served out. For when 
 by-and-by this large company had sedately filed into the 
 luncheon-room, and when they were engaged in finding out 
 their appointed seats — and while the zither-choir from the 
 Black Forest was playing 'AUe Vogel sind schon da, alle 
 Vogel, alle ! ' so that it seemed as if the birds of in- 
 numerable spring-times were hovering around and thrilling 
 all the air with their vibrant melody — in the midst of this 
 hum of confusion young Gordon became aware that a 
 dowdy, pompous, overdressed woman was bearing down on 
 him. He could not understand this at all, for he himself 
 had written out the cards and placed them along the tables ; 
 l)ut the next moment the explanation came from Miss 
 Penguin, who now confronted him. 
 
 " I wished to have a little chat with you. Sir Francis," 
 said she, " and I took the liberty of transposing one or two 
 of the cards " 
 
 " Well, I'm hanged ! " he wrathfully said to himself — • 
 which was improper, and also most impohte. 
 
 But there was no escape for him ; her baleful eye was
 
 FACE TO FACE 243 
 
 upon him ; and the very first question she asked of him, as 
 they sat down, was the identical question with which she 
 had challenged him at the Hypatia Club. 
 
 " Have you read my Mirroring s ? " 
 
 He desperately hunted about for a lie — in vain ; and 
 then he blurted out — 
 
 " I really don't know what the circulating libraries are 
 coming to. You write to them far the best books, 
 naturally ; and they send you nothing but trash. And so 
 — that is — the inexcusable reason — — " 
 
 (( 
 
 I see," she observed, cahnly. "You have not read 
 my book. Consequently you have no answer to my 
 indictment." 
 
 " Your indictment ? " 
 
 He vaguely remembered that on that previous occasion 
 this frowsy old frump with the pale protuberant fringe and 
 the tattered finery had occupied herself chiefly in slandering 
 her fellow-countrywomen, when she wasn't engaged in 
 hacking and slashing at their husbands and brothers and 
 sons ; and also that she appeared to hold him, Frank 
 Gordon of Grantly, responsible for aU the ill doings and 
 infamies of the ' aristocracy ' of Great Britain. 
 
 " Yes, my indictment," she proceeded, and she held him 
 with her inexorable eye. " Perhaps you will allow me to 
 repeat at least a portion of it." 
 
 " Lord help us 1 — I'm in for it again," said young Gordon 
 to himself. 
 
 And he was. "Worse still, he found himself between two 
 fires ; for while he had this infuriate spinster at his elbow, 
 on the other side of the head table, and not more than a 
 yard or two from him, Octavius Quirk, in his frothily 
 tempestuous fashion, was describing to Lady Adela and 
 any others within ear-shot his doughty deeds in the field of 
 journalistic criticism. 
 
 " Such a responsibility ! " murmured Lady Adela, softly 
 and sweetly. " Such an important newspaper " 
 
 "The Moulinet — that's what I should like to call my 
 department," continued the flabby-cheeked creature with 
 the boiled-gooseberry eyes. " I want my lads to understand 
 that they must have a free shoulder-swing ! And we're 
 doing excellent service, Lady Adela — oh, I assure you I 
 
 K 2
 
 244 B/ilSE/S 
 
 The weekly log-rollers have got a fright : there's a good 
 deal less croaking and calling of the frogs to each othei 
 since we began to heave bricks into the pond. And the 
 puling poets in the Government offices — stealing the QueenV 
 stationery to write their miserable magazine-verse on it : 
 we've made one or two of them sit up. But the two tribes 
 that we mean to slaughter — the two tribes that are to have 
 no mercy — are the Cuttle-fish and the Worms " 
 
 " I'm afraid I don't quite " 
 
 " The Cuttle-fish — who fling ink in the face of the public, 
 and hide themselves in a sham profundity. I'm an English- 
 man ; I want English ; I want the English of Milton, and 
 Shakespeare, and Dryden ; I don't want leerings, and 
 twistings, and divings into the mud of obscurity. And 
 then there are the precious people — the posturers — strutting 
 in front of a literary mirror and admiring themselves : well, 
 we mean to thrash the sawdust out of their taffeta phrases, 
 their 'three-piled hyperboles, spruce affectation, figures 
 pedantical ' ; and we may be able to bring back something 
 of the ' russet yeas, and honest kersey noes.' ' He speaks 
 not like a man of God's making ' : then he'll have to 
 change his tune ; or we'll drum the dandified ass out of 
 existence " 
 
 The wind-bag paused for a moment — for the zithern had 
 begun to play ' Es steht ein Baum im Odenwald ' ; but he 
 soon ignored this interruption. 
 
 " Ah, the Worms, Lady Adela — I was almost for- 
 getting " 
 
 " Yes ? " responded Lady Adela, in her pleasantest 
 manner ; while Gordon inwardly said to himself ' what 
 a price one has to pay in England for puffs and para- 
 graphs I ' 
 
 " The Worms — the invertebrate literary things that live 
 upon dead men's reputations — and the greater the reputation 
 tlie better. ' ilallo,' cries one or other of these nonentities, 
 ' let's get out another edition of So-and-so ; he has been 
 dead a hundred years ; and there's no one to hinder us.' 
 And then the Nonentity brings out the book of the big 
 dead author, and claps his own little name on the title-page, 
 check by jowl with the big name, and the public doesn't 
 resent his impudence ; no, the good, easy public buya
 
 FACE TO FACE 245 
 
 the new edition ; and the parasite comes in time to be 
 recognised as a man of letters. Good business— living on 
 dead authors 1 Well, we mean to make things lively for 
 the Worms 1 " continued Mr. Quu'k, with boisterous hilarity. 
 "Since they are so determined on publicity, we mean to 
 make them dance a little. Cuttle-fish — AVorms — Posturers 
 — Bardlets in search of a laureateship : we intend having 
 
 a bit of amusement down our way 1 My lads are ready " 
 
 And so the Jabberwock held on ; while Lady Adela paid 
 him the tribute of a mute sympathy and reverence : when 
 she had to pay a price, she paid it without stint. 
 
 A voice rose above the varied din — a girl's voice, rather 
 hard and metallic, it is true, but clear and penetrating, and 
 harmonising admirably with the zither accompaniment. 
 ' Von meinem Bergli muss i scheiden, was so hebli is und 
 schon' — this was the old familiar strain; and Frank 
 Gordon, who was sick-tired of journalistic chatter, and still 
 more tired of hearing an exasperated unmarried female 
 denounce the iniquities of husbands — young Gordon was 
 glad to turn away and listen, entranced. Nay, as soon as 
 the ' Abschied vom Dirndel ' was finished, he left his place 
 and made his way round to the small table at which the 
 Schwarzwalder — three men and two girls — were seated ; and 
 there he made bold to take a vacant chair that happened 
 to be next the young lady who had just been singing ; 
 and he was proceeding, with many apologies, to tell her 
 how every one was grateful to her, when the damsel with 
 the big, gentle eyes (he made sure her name was Anneli) 
 interrupted him. 
 
 " Wie meinen Sie, mein Herr ? " she said. 
 
 This was for a moment disconcerting ; but he had some 
 courage ; and so with the best German he could muster 
 he paid his compliments, and then he added — 
 
 " Sie kennen vielleicht irgend einige griechische Yolks- 
 lieder ? " 
 
 " Das glaube ich nicht," she answered, " will abcr 
 fragen." 
 
 And with that she addressed herself to the grave-eyed, 
 black-bearded man at the end of the table, who, in turn, 
 answered young Gordon direct and in English, explaining 
 that they were very sorry they did not know any Greek
 
 246 BRISEIS 
 
 folk-songs. But this inquiry had formed a sort of intro- 
 duction ; and next Gordon said, in a straightforward and 
 friendly way : 
 
 " Well, I have heard the zither played many and many 
 an evening, in the Black Forest and the Tyrol ; but never, 
 as far as I can remember, without there being something on 
 the table. Would you mind — if I tried to rectify a Mttle 
 mistake that I see has been made ? " 
 
 And thereupon he went off and got hold -of a waiter; 
 and in a few moments he had returned, the waiter bringing 
 with him a couple of bottles of Zeltinger, some green glasses, 
 and a basket filled with comfits and sweet biscuits. The 
 wine was poured out ; the cakes were handed to the timid- 
 eyed Friiulein ; while young Gordon coolly and calmly 
 resumed his seat — for he had a frank and boyish way of 
 making himself at home that stood him in good stead 
 among strangers. And indeed he found the society of 
 these honest Schwarzwalder a good deal more congenial 
 than that he had recently quitted. They drank his health, 
 in a serious manner ; he responded with the toast of 
 
 * Deutschland iiber AUes I ' and the Fraulein laughed as 
 they sipped a little of the wine ; then the leader of the 
 choir, glancing round the table, said in an undertone 
 
 * Compagneia,' and forthwith the glasses were shoved 
 aside, and each zither had resting on it ten nerved finger- 
 tips ready for the signal. 
 
 'Ich nehm' mein Glaschen in die Hand' 
 
 he rolled out in a strong bass voice ; then his companions 
 came in with their chorus 
 
 •Yiye la Compagneia!' 
 
 ■ — ^and whether the general Compagneia over there at the 
 long tables listened or did not Usten was of little con- 
 sequence to Frank Gordon. He had escaped from the 
 palpitating Sappho ; he had escaped from the blustering 
 wind-bag ; he was among decent, kindly folk, who, in 
 the intervals of their professional duties, became more and 
 more friendly with the young Englishman who appeared to 
 be well acquainted with their country and its homely 
 customs. And truly they gave him of their best. It was
 
 FACE TO FACE 247 
 
 for him they sang ' Mariandel ist so schon, Mariandel ist so 
 treu,' and ' Herzig's Schatzerl, lass dich herzen,' and ' Im 
 Aargau sind zwei Liebi,' and ' Yon alien den Madchen so 
 blink und so blank ' ; and then when the smoking began — 
 for Lady Adela knew the ways of many of her guests, and 
 was an astute and tolerant hostess— he had cigars brought 
 for the bearded members of this Uttle company ; and 
 altogether he and they got on very well. 
 
 An d yet, notwithstanding the occasion and this good 
 comradeship on which he had accidentally happened, he was 
 heavy at heart. Some of these Volksheder have a pathetic 
 note, apt to awaken memories. And there was another 
 folk-song, lying in his desk down in Jermyn Street, that 
 would keep recurring to his mind, accusing and reproaching 
 him. A dozen times he had taken out the sheet of MS. 
 intending to write and say he had received it ; and again 
 and again he had shrunk from employing the cold and 
 distant terms which alone were permissible to him. And 
 what would Briseis be thinking of him now ? Perhaps her 
 wounded pride had stepped in to protect her : probably she 
 would not deign to waste another thought on one who had 
 used her so discourteously. 
 
 By this time the large luncheon-party had become in a 
 measure nebulous — moving hither and thither and forming 
 new groups ; and the handsome young mistress of the 
 feast could now pay a little more attention to her guests 
 generally. "Winning, gracious, and graceful, she went from 
 one to the other, with an adroit word and a smile ever at 
 her command ; and if, during these random conversations, 
 any reference was made to the forthcoming publication of 
 Faded Jonquils, it was always with a modest deprecation on 
 her part, as if her poor little book were not fit to be 
 mentioned before all these wise and clever people. Amid 
 this prevailing movement and clamour of talk it was easy 
 for any one to slip away unobserved ; and Frank Gordon — 
 having ascertained that Miss Jean was returning to her 
 dressmaker, and would rejoin him in Jermyn Street later 
 on — said a word of apology and good-bye to his hostess, 
 and left. 
 
 When he reached his rooms he put his despatch-box on 
 the table, and opened it, and drew in a chair. But it was
 
 248 BRJSEIS 
 
 not factors' reports he was after. He took out the large 
 sheet of paper on which were copied so carefully and 
 accurately the words and accompaniment of the Greek 
 folk-song ; and at these he sat staring absently, as he had 
 done too often before. The music, it is true, was far too 
 intricate and elaborate for him even to guess at the sound 
 of it ; he was thinking rather of the patient labour and the 
 neat handwriting ; and of the desperate task that lay before 
 himself. And yet he could not remain altogether silent. 
 Nay, might not he be able to introduce into this note that 
 had to be written — that he must write now — something of 
 a farewell character ? A formal and restrained farewell — • 
 that was what was demanded of him : though again and 
 again his fingers had refused to pen the words. 
 
 It was just about this moment that there drew up at the 
 corner of Jermyn Street a four-wheeled cab, from which 
 a young woman descended. Her tall and elegant figure 
 was dressed mostly in black ; she was veiled — though the 
 texture of her veU was thin enough to show that her 
 complexion was somewhat colourless ; and she had a pre- 
 occupied and hurried air. As soon as she had arranged 
 with the cabman about waiting for her, she turned and 
 went quickly along the pavement, giving no heed to any- 
 thing around her, but glancing up from time to time at the 
 number of this or that lodging-house or private hotel. At 
 last she arrived at the one she sought. The outer door was 
 open ; the inner door, partially glazed, was about a yard or 
 so within the hall ; and it was with hardly a second of 
 hesitation that she stepped into this shallow entrance, and 
 was about to ring the bell. 
 
 And then all of a sudden she withdrew her hand as if the 
 bell-knob had burnt her with fire ; she stood paralyzed with 
 confusion and fear and shame ; her face was suffused with 
 hot blood ; her heart panting as if it would suiTocate her. 
 What was she here for ? — she seemed to ask herself. Could 
 this be the proud-spirited Briseis Valieri, come humbly and 
 servilely to the door of a young man's dwelling, to beg for 
 the re-establishment of her good name ? Was this what 
 she was here for ? — to explain — to excuse — to vindicate ? 
 Her father — ber mother — even the poor old man with 
 whom she used to go wandering among the Scotch hills :
 
 FACE TO FACE 249 
 
 what would they have said could they have foreseen ? And 
 then it swiftly occurred to her — might she not even now 
 escape ? Had no one observed her through those oblong 
 panes of glass ? The bell had certainly not been rung. 
 And so, the next moment, she had vanished out of that 
 entrance-way ; and little did she know of what had be- 
 fallen her until she discovered that she was staring into the 
 window of a perfumer's shop, her whole frame tingling and 
 trembling. 
 
 She gradually regained control over herself ; her face 
 resumed something of its natural hue ; a passer-by would 
 merely have thought that this tall and distinguished-looking 
 young lady was regarding those hair-brushes and scent- 
 bottles with an unusual fixity of attention. For indeed 
 what she had now to consider was the alternative that lay 
 before her — a return to the hopeless suspense and misery 
 of these past days and nights. She had strung herseK up 
 so far ; and this wild endeavour of hers, the product of 
 despair almost, had within it some gleam of hope ; and now 
 td abandon it — to go away back to the long brooding hours 
 of anguish — that seemed a kind of impossible thing. She 
 could not go back. She must have some assurance. She 
 must know what had occurred. It was not a mere vindica- 
 tion of herseK that was driving her on ; it was as though 
 all the coming years of her young life were calling to 
 her, making a more imperative demand. And so, looking 
 neitker to the right nor to the left, she returned hastily 
 to the entrance, and rang the bell. 
 
 A manservant appeared. 
 
 " Is — Sir Francis Gordon — at home ? " she managed to 
 say. 
 
 " I think I heard him come in, ma'am," the man said ; 
 and he knocked at an adjacent door. 
 
 The next moment the door was opened ; and Briseis 
 found herself — she did not know how — advancing into a 
 room the sole occupant of which, on seeing her, had 
 instantly risen to his feet. And there she stood confronting 
 him — unable to utter a word — dreading what she had done. 
 It seemed at this crisis as if the proud heart must straight- 
 way break, in the depth of her humiliation. And yet she 
 looked at him. Had he nothing to say to her ? Would
 
 250 BRISEIS 
 
 he understand that a girl was imperiously bound to clear 
 her good name ? 
 
 And as for him : well, this sudden and actual bodily 
 presentment of her had at once swept away all the dreams, 
 and musings, and tempered resolves of the preceding days ; 
 and a passionate longing arose in him to go forward to her, and 
 place his hands on her shoulders, and say to her : ' Briseis, 
 let me guess why you have come here I Do not speak : it 
 is for me to speak : and all that I have to tell you is, I love 
 you ! — I love you I — I love you ! ' Nay, the magnetism of 
 her presence was overpowering ; and her agitation — the 
 appeal of her look — surely that was more than mortal man 
 could withstand : why should he not take her to him, and 
 kiss her hair, her cheeks, her lips, with * I love you 1 I love 
 you ! ' told again and again to her upturned eyes. And he 
 would say to her : ' You are disturbed — you suffer : let me 
 shield you, then ; let us forget everything else in the world, 
 and be a world to ourselves ; let us go through life 
 together — you and I, together 1 ' And then, under the 
 magic charm of youth and youth's response to persuasive 
 caresses, there would come into her softened eyes some sign 
 of yielding, of wistful self-sm-render 
 
 But this wild impulse, that thrilled him to the very soul, 
 had to be sternly restrained ; pale, resolute, reserved, he 
 stood before her, awaiting her commands ; whether she 
 knew or not, there were chains of honour binding him, as 
 cruel as steel. 
 
 She found speech at last. 
 
 " You will forgive my — my coming here," she said, in a 
 low voice. " I had not heard from you " 
 
 " I was about to write to you," he said — and he glanced 
 towards the table : if her eyes followed in that direction, 
 they could not fail to see the sheet of MS. music lying 
 there. 
 
 "And — and I was alarmed," she continued, rather 
 brokenly. " Because — because I have been threatened " 
 
 " You — threatened ? " he repeated. " By a man or a 
 woman ? " 
 
 " A man." 
 
 " That might be made awkward," he said slowly. 
 
 " I was alarmed because — because he threatened to come
 
 FACE TO FACE 251 
 
 to you, and show you some letters," she went on ; and 
 though outwardly she maintained her self-control, there 
 was a suggestion of tears in her voice. " And when you 
 did not write, I thought he had been to you — I thought 
 
 you had believed him — that you suspected me ■" 
 
 ^- " Who is this man ? " he asked. 
 
 " Andreas Argyriades. You saw him one morning in 
 Devonshire Place, just as you came up. And he has not 
 been to you ? " 
 
 "Not at all." 
 
 " Nor written to you ? " 
 
 " I have had no communication with him of any kind — I 
 never heard of him before ! " he exclaimed. " But whoever 
 he is, do you imagine I would believe any story or report or 
 rumour against you brought by an ill-wisher of that kind ? 
 1 think the reception he would meet with would convince 
 him of the extreme unwisdom of his attempt." 
 
 " Oh, yes — yes — I am certain of that," she said, in an 
 almost incoherent fashion ; and she seemed half -stupefied, 
 and distraught, and unstrung. For these assurances of his, 
 grateful as they might be to her ears, contained no explana- 
 tion whatever of the graver mystery of his change of 
 demeanour towards her. And how was she to ask for that ? 
 There was a limit even to her piteous abasement. " Only," 
 she continued, in this nervous way — " only — I wished you 
 to understand about Argyriades — I wished you to know — ■ 
 about Argyriades ; and if he should write to you — or call 
 upon you " 
 
 " Then he shall have his answer," Gordon said, with firm 
 lips. " And perhaps it will be an answer that he will 
 remember throughout his life." 
 
 "And you will forgive — my coming here — and inter- 
 rupting you. I know I should not have done so — ^but I was 
 troubled — and you had not written " 
 
 " I am exceedingly sorry I did not write before," he said. 
 And in truth at this juncture he had need of all his 
 self-command ; for the sight of her distress and a certain 
 touch of pathos in the tone of her voice were wellnigh 
 overmastering him : it seemed so natural that, throwing all 
 other considerations to the winds, he should go to her, and 
 clasp her to the shelter of his arms, and soothe her shaken
 
 252 B RISE IS 
 
 spirit with tender and comforting- words. But he held 
 back : if there must needs be an explanation, this was not 
 the moment : her mere presence here, in this room, was all 
 too bewildering a thing. 
 
 " Good-bye, then," she said, and she extended her hand. 
 "You will forgive me for troubling you — for coming — 
 but I was in great doubt and perplexity — about Argyri- 
 ades " 
 
 He held her hand in his : so much he could not deny 
 himself. 
 
 " Do you remember Aumt Jean at Grantly ? " he said to 
 her, in a very gentle fashion. " She is in London at 
 present ; and I expect her here every minute. Won't you 
 stay and see her ? — she would be so glad." 
 
 " Oh, no, I cannot — I cannot," Briseis said, hurriedly. 
 " I must go." 
 
 But if it was her wish to get away unobserved from this 
 embarrassing situation she was foiled ; for just as he was 
 opening the door into the hall, there came a ring at the 
 outer bell. 
 
 " That must be Aunt Jean," he said. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 DER EWIGE GESANO. 
 
 It was a disconcerting and even a perilous moment for all 
 three ; a single false note of hesitation might have been 
 disastrous ; but the sagacity, the womanly instinct, and the 
 native kindliness of Jean Gordon triumphed : in a second 
 she was mistress of the situation. 
 
 " Dear me," she said to the girl, " to think that you are 
 just the one person in the town of London I was most 
 wishing to see — and you were going away 1 Na, na ; 
 you'll just come up to my own little parlour, and we'll 
 have a chat together : why did not my nephew here tell 
 you I was to be in directly ? Come along now — dear me, 
 to think I might have missed you 1 " And therewithal, in 
 some mysterious manner, Briseis found herself conducted
 
 DER EWIGE GESANG 253 
 
 to a moderately small apartment on the next floor, which 
 turned out to be Miss Jean's sitting-room. 
 
 But although she might be temporarily unnerved, Briseis 
 Valieri was too proud to have anything to do with false 
 pretences. She remained standing. 
 
 "I must tell you, Miss Gordon," she said, almost as a 
 kind of challenge, "that I did not know you were in 
 London." 
 
 " You did not ? "Well, well 1 " was the placid answer — 
 though the shrewd gray eyes were attentive. 
 
 "I did not," Briseis went on, striving to be per- 
 fectly calm. " I came to see Sir Francis ; and I ex- 
 pected to find him alone. I came to learn from himself 
 if he had been told anything about me by — by a country- 
 man of mine. It was a wrong thing for me to do. 1 
 know that. I know that perfectly well. But — but I was 
 desperate ; and perhaps — perhaps. Miss Gordon — if you 
 heard the whole story, you would not think so badly 
 of me " 
 
 Indeed there was no thought of evil in those kindly 
 and scrutinising gray eyes ; there was nothing but an 
 obviously affectionate interest ; and it was in the gentlest 
 fashion that Miss Jean persuaded her unexpected visitor 
 to remove her cloak and sit down. Then came the in- 
 evitable suggestion about tea ; but that Briseis put aside ; 
 she was too anxious to tell her tale, and explain how she 
 had been induced to place herself in so ambiguous a 
 position. And as that tale, rapid, eager, and rather 
 piteous, was being told, a somewhat remarkable thing 
 occurred. Aunt Jean had taken up from the table a 
 Japanese paper-knife, and at first she had merely occupied 
 herself in idly passing her fingers over the metallic figures ; 
 but as the story of Argyriades and his proceedings went on, 
 she got hold of the instrument in both her hands, and she 
 was unconsciously bending it this way and that while she 
 was earnestly exhorting her companion to exercise an 
 absolute self-control. 
 
 " Yes, yes, my dear — there is no use in anger — you must 
 be cool and collected," she said, in little gasps of sentences, 
 while her double grip on the paper-cutter did not cease. 
 "And I may tell you you've come to us just in time.
 
 254 BRISEIS 
 
 That scoundrel was only beginning to get a hold over ye. 
 I can see his intention. I'm older than you. It was not 
 five pounds — or fifty — that he wanted ; he wanted to bleed 
 ye like a leech, and to terrify ye into going on your knees 
 to your friends, for more, and more, and more. Oh, the 
 scoundrel I — yes, and he thought he could get money from 
 Frank? Well, he'll get something from Frank. My 
 word, he'U get something from Frank 1 For ye've just 
 come to us in time, my dear young lady, before he got 
 complete hold over ye : oh, ye did right to come — I main- 
 tain ye did right to come : a young girl's good name is 
 everything to her : it's her very life : and if she thinks she 
 has been slandered, is she not likely to be driven desperate ? 
 But then, you see, in such a predicament — face to face with 
 such a treacherous scoundrel — one must take care to keep 
 perfectly quiet and cool. Anger will not do. Indignation 
 will not do. And some of us Gordons about Dee-side — I 
 mean the menfolk of us — are said to be rather quick in 
 the temper ; and it never serves to let temper loose. No, 
 no. We must be quiet and cautious in dealing with a 
 smooth-tongued miscreant like that. I confess," Aunt 
 Jean continued — and the short sentences were becoming 
 more and more vehement and envenomed — "if I were 
 myself to see him — I might be tempted — to say a word : 
 I suppose — I suppose — a smack across the face — from a 
 
 woman's hand — would not hurt him But no, no — as 
 
 I tell ye, that would not do — we must give ye good 
 advice — cool and calm advice — and ye see that, even in 
 talking of the infernal rascal, I can keep quite easy and 
 collected " 
 
 The metal knife could no longer withstand this nervous 
 bending ; with a sudden snap it sprang in two ; and Jean 
 Gordon looked helplessly at the fragments. 
 
 " Dear me," she said, " they're useless things : I forgot 
 I had it in my hand " — and once more she endeavoured to 
 impress on Briseis the supreme importance of remaining 
 scrupulously tranquil and cahn-blooded, if Andreas Argyri- 
 adcs were to be encountered on equal terms. 
 
 For the last few moments Briseis had been plunged in 
 profound abstraction. 
 
 "Miss Gordon," she said, at length, " it is very kind of
 
 DER EWIGE GESANG 255 
 
 you to think of trying to help me against that man ; but — 
 but I would rather not trouble Sir Francis any further in 
 the matter " 
 
 " What ? " exclaimed her warm-hearted partisan, " are 
 you goLug back into slavery ? Are ye deliberately laying 
 up for yourself years of misery, until this blackguard finds 
 there's nothing more to be squeezed out of either your 
 friends or you ? " 
 
 " Oh, no," Briseis said. " I am less afraid of him now. 
 Sir Francis has assured me he will not believe one word 
 Argyriades has to say, whether he calls or writes " 
 
 " Bless me, Frank Gordon is not the whole world ! " 
 Miss Jean protested. "And a young lady cannot afford 
 to have a number of her letters — well, I will not use the 
 word compromising — but private and confidential letters, 
 I suppose — she cannot afford to have such things iu the 
 possession of a man who is determuied to make an ill use 
 of them." 
 
 " Compromising ? " Briseis repeated, with a rose-red 
 flush appearing in her pale and exquisite complexion. 
 " You must not say that. Miss Gordon. They could only 
 be considered compromising by some one quite ignorant of 
 the circumstances. Love-letters they are, that is true — 
 silly and romantic love-letters ; but any one ought to be 
 able to see that they are merely a heap of school-girl 
 nonsense. A school-girl prank it was ; for we all pre- 
 tended to be in love with George Lamprinos — he was the 
 music-master ; and I wrote these letters for mischief 
 mostly, confiding them in secrecy to my chief friend 
 and companion, Irene Argyriades, on the understanding 
 that she was to read them and destroy them. Lamprinos 
 never saw a single line of any one of them — of course not ! 
 — he would have laughed, and understood weU enough : 
 Bchool-girls are always playing such tricks. And then 
 Irene, instead of burning these scrawls, appears to have 
 kept them ; and then her brother finds them, and thinks 
 he can make money — not so much out of them, perhaps, as 
 out of the other notes I wrote to him, demanding their 
 return. But I am less anxious now " 
 
 " They must be got back," said Miss Jean, firmly, " And 
 it's Frank Gordon must get them back for you."
 
 256 BRISEIS 
 
 " Oh, no, you must not ask liim — please do not 1 " said 
 Briseis, hurriedly. "It is not necessary. I will get them 
 back myself " 
 
 " You — to deal with a vagabond like that ! " said Aunt 
 Jean, in kindly scorn. " It's somebody with a stronger 
 nerve than either you or I have must take up this affair ; 
 and though my nephew Frankie is just as easy-going and 
 good-humoured a lad as ever I met with in all my life, 
 still he's got a most merciless temper — I will admit that — 
 he's got a perfectly heathenish temper if there's been any 
 wrong-doing or underhand dealing where those next him 
 are concerned : I'm thinking if your Greek gentleman 
 knew who was after him, he would be up and off" and out 
 o' this country in two skips and a jump. So you'll just 
 give me the man's address, and I'll jot it down ; and, my 
 dear young lady, you'll put all these fears and apprehensions 
 out of your mind — for well can I see what ye must have 
 suffered." 
 
 Then Briseis rose to go, and as her last word she said, 
 rather wistfully — 
 
 " Then — Miss Gordon — you do not blame me — for having 
 come here alone — when I was in such great trouble ? " 
 
 " Blame you ? " said Aunt Jean, and she took the girl's 
 hand in hers, and kissed her on the cheek as an elder sister 
 might have done. " I think I should find it difficult to 
 blame ye for anything 1 But whatever happens, if you 
 should be in want of a friend, just you come to Jean 
 Gordon, and ye'U not find her to fail ye." And again a^. 
 the door below she reiterated these expressions of affection- 
 ate sympathy, in a way altogether unusual with her, for 
 most folks considered her rather a cross-grained and sharp- 
 tongued woman. Then Briseis took her leave ; and after 
 that Aunt Jean remained for a minute or two in the hall, 
 consideriug, before she would enter her nephew's room. 
 
 When at last she opened the door, she found Frank 
 Gordon pacing to and fro in great agitation ; but at sight 
 of her he stopped short. 
 
 " Frank, lad," said she, in an unwontedly grave fashion, 
 " what is all this ? " 
 
 "Oh, I don't know. Aunt Jean," he said. "I don't 
 know 1 "
 
 DER EWIGE GESANG 257 
 
 He took another restless step or two up and down, and 
 again he confronted her. 
 
 " What do you think, Aunt Jean ? I want you to tell 
 me what I'm to do 1 Things were bad enough before — when 
 I thought I had only my own mischance to face — but 
 now " 
 
 " Ay, and is that] the way the land lies ? " she said, 
 regarding him curiously. " You as well ? Frank, lad, you 
 don't mean that I Mercy me, what is going to happen to 
 us all 1 But you don't mean that ! " 
 
 " Yes, yes ; and you've got to tell me what I am to do. 
 Aunt Jean — that is the first and foremost thing " 
 
 She paused for a moment or two, to coUect herself. 
 Then she said deliberately — 
 
 " Well, Frank, there's many would say I ought to have 
 no skill of such matters. But I have seen something of 
 the ways of young folk ; and I have kept my eyes open , 
 and what I am certain sure of is that that girl's coming 
 here by herself to-day can mean but the one thing — that 
 she is wildly in love with you. There's no other accounting 
 for it : the fear of having been miscalled to you seems to 
 have driven her fairly out of her mind. And even then I 
 can hardly understand it — now that she's away — for when 
 she's near you there's a kind of glamour about her, she's so 
 bewitching with her beauty and her pleading eyes that 
 you're ready to swear a white-winged angel is a poor kind 
 of creature compared with her ; but now — but now when 
 one thinks of it — that she should have risked being sus- 
 pected of making a confession — confessing the secret that a 
 girl keeps deepest down in her own heart — that she should 
 have run such a risk even remotely is hard to comprehend, 
 unless she's been just driven frantic by that man. For of 
 course she knows you're engaged to be married ? " 
 
 " Oh, no, she doesn't," he replied, hastily. " At least, I 
 suppose not — there was never a word said about it " 
 
 Aunt Jean uttered a little haK-stifled cry. 
 
 " Frank Gordon, what do ye tell me ? — what have you 
 done .? She does not know ? The poor lass ! — the poor 
 lass ! — now I can see why she came here this afternoon — 
 she felt that it was the happiness or the misery of her life 
 that had to be settled. And it's the misery, I suppose. I 
 
 s
 
 258 BRTSEIS 
 
 suppose it's the misery. "\A'hat have you done, man I— 
 what have you done 1 Why did you not tell her — long 
 
 ago 
 
 " Why, how could I tell her, Aunt Jean 1 " he responded, 
 almost angrily — for his conscience seemed wholly to acquit 
 him. " Bethink yourself, Aunt Jean ! How was I to 
 imagine that it could concern her in the least ? If I had 
 dared to assume such a thing, then perhaps I might have told 
 her. But such an assumption — the impertinence of it I — 
 the insolence of it ! — it never entered my head that it could 
 matter a brass farthing to her whether I was engaged to be 
 married or not. Only, when I found, of a sudden, that I 
 had grown too fond of her, then I did what was left for me 
 to do : I gave up going to the house ; and I was trying to 
 pave the way for our becoming absolute strangers to each 
 other. It appeared to me that was all I could do ; and I 
 had hoped to bear my own fate without any human creature 
 being a bit the wiser. But as for explaining to her that I 
 was engaged to be married : why, there were other girls in 
 Mrs. Elhott's house besides Briseis Yalieri : was I to go to 
 each of them, or to all of them together, and say to them 
 ' Look here, I consider myself such a transcendently fasci- 
 nating person that I must warn you beforehand that I am 
 not to be captured ' ? That would have been a modest 
 precaution 1 Indeed there was no nonsense of the kind in 
 the air. We were amusing ourselves — theatres, concerts, 
 a bit of a dance now and again : who was to imagine that 
 any tragedy was to spring out of it all ? " 
 
 He was silent for a space. His whole being seemed rent 
 asunder with conflicting passions ; on the one hand hia 
 heart kept whispering to him in secret and delirious 
 exultation ' Rejoice ! — rejoice ! — the woman you love loves 
 you : the crowning glory of life is yours ' ; while in re- 
 sponse to that the calmer pulses of his brain would keep 
 repeating the old inexorable burden ' Renounce — renounce I 
 — to you also has come the common lot of mortal man — 
 Enthehren soUst du ! — soUst mthehren ! ' And at last he 
 threw himself into a chair, his clinched fists on his knees, 
 his head somewhat bent forward, his eyes fixed on the 
 floor. 
 
 " I Kuppuse I've been to blame, Aunt Jean," he said.
 
 DER EWIGE GESANG 259 
 
 " Take it that way — and tell me what I am to do. I am 
 ready to bear the penalty — if there's anything that can be 
 undone, if there's anything that can be put right. What 
 am I to do ? Is there any atonement — any sacrifice ? " 
 
 " Frank, laddie," said Aunt Jean, " you're not the first 
 that has found his word given one way and his heart 
 tm"ned another ; and ye need not seek for more sorrows 
 than ye're likely to meet ; for it's a sore strait to be in. 
 And as for blaming you, that will I not. I'm beginning to 
 suspect there's a simple enough explanation why you never 
 told her of your engagement ; and it's just this, that you 
 were in love with her aU the time, or drifting into being in 
 love with her — unknown to yourself — and that's why ye 
 could not bring yourself to tell her " 
 
 At this he looked up quickly : Miss Jean's shrewd guess 
 seemed to have struck home. 
 
 " Then it is aU due to my blindness," he said, slowly, 
 and as if to himself. "And there is no recalling — no 
 reparation. . . . Aunt Jean, would you go to her, and 
 speak to her ? Will you tell her why I have recently kept 
 away from the house — why I did not answer her letter ? 
 I know it is a great deal to ask ; for it is a terrible busi- 
 ness ; but it is just maddening to think that she may 
 consider herself slighted — imagine such a thing ! — Briseis 
 Vaheri — slighted and left aside ! " 
 
 " Yes, but that's what may be in her heart, and Hkely to 
 remain there all the days of her life, unless you go to her 
 yourself, Frank," said Aunt Jean, calmly. 
 
 " I ? She would be insulted I " 
 
 " You must go," said Aunt Jean. " You cannot part 
 with her forever — I suppose it is forever, according to the 
 chances of the world — without a last word of good-bye, 
 surely. That would be strange conduct towards a girl that 
 has been none too well treated— I don't mean by yon, 
 Frank — I don't mean by you — I mean almost ever since we 
 got to know of her existence. And who would ha\e 
 thought it ? Do you remember her that day at Grantly ? 
 She looked as if all the world aroimd her were laughing in 
 kindness towards her. She looked so young, and winning, 
 and splendid ; she seemed to shed a kind of delight which- 
 ever way she turned ; and she was so willing to be pleased 
 
 S 2
 
 26o BRISEIS 
 
 — SO grateful — not presuming on her great beauty, as many 
 a girl would. AVho could have prophesied anything but 
 the fairest of the earth for her ? She seemed _ born to 
 happy circumstances, and tender guidance, and loving-kind- 
 ness from those around her— which she could well repay — 
 which she could well repay, I will say that. And now — 
 
 poor lass ! — poor lass ! " 
 
 And at this point Aunt Jean rose, and turned away from 
 him, and remained standing there for several seconds, with 
 her handkerchief up to her eyes. It was a most unusual 
 break-down for her, and she was ashamed. When she 
 came back to her place, she spoke in a very different key. 
 
 " Frank Gordon," she said, " there's one thing you've got 
 to do, to show the man that's in you. You've got to call 
 that scoundrel to account." 
 
 "Oh, that's all right— that's nothing," he said, im- 
 patiently. At this moment he had no thought to waste 
 on Andreas Argyriades. It was of Briseis he was thinking ; 
 and his heart was full of pity, and remorse, and an unspeak- 
 able longing and yearning and solicitude. 
 
 " But'it's not nothing— it's something," said Miss Jean, 
 hotly. "Perhaps ye do not understand under what ter- 
 rorism that girl has been living of late ?— perhaps ye do 
 not think of what she must have suffered before she under- 
 went the humiliation of coming here, to defend herself ? 
 Is that nothing ? Is that to be passed over ? Consider 
 what she must have gone through before she brought 
 herself to this door — before she rang the bell ; and is there 
 to be no punishment for the blackguard that brought her 
 to such a pass ? Is there to be nothing done ? Ye're not 
 going to leave it to me to take a horsewhip? Am I to 
 find him out ? Am I to lash him ? — the scoundrel I — the 
 
 scoundrel ! " 
 
 " Aunt Jean," he said, in answer to her passionate 
 invective, "that's all easy enough. If everything else 
 were as easy 1 Thrashing Argyriades will not put matters 
 straight 1 " 
 
 " But thrashing Argyriades is the first thing that lies 
 before ye," she persisted, in her indomitable way. "And 
 I want to know how and when ye mean to set about it." 
 There won't be any difficulty," he said. " Only I sup- 
 
 «4 flM
 
 DER EWIGE GESANG 261 
 
 pose I shall have to telegraph to Wentworth to send me up 
 my thickest shooting-boots." 
 
 " Ay," said Miss Jean, eagerly, " and ye'll kick him 
 across the street — and ye'll follow him — and kick him back 
 across the street again " 
 
 " I can try," her nephew said, " Unless he varies the 
 performance by kicking me." 
 
 Aunt Jean pulled herself together. 
 
 " No, no — there must be no folly or rashness," she said, 
 severely. " It's what I've just been maintaining — we must 
 keep quiet and cool if we're to deal wi' this sleek-spoken 
 rascal. It '11 not do to land yom-selves both in the police 
 courts, and have names mentioned, and a story for people 
 to gabble about. Oh, he knew well what he was after, that 
 miscreant, when he laid his plans ! The letters he got — 
 letters written by one school-girl to another school-girl, for 
 mere mischief's sake — these were harmless enough, and 
 useless enough to him ; but when he got other letters 
 demanding them back — and when she was foolish enough 
 to send him £5 as a beginning — then he had a better hold. 
 Frankie, lad, it's for you to make him let go — but dis- 
 creetly — discreetly. If he's got his fingers on the gunwale 
 of the boat, chop them off, or give him a clour on the 
 head : only, there must not be a ripple on the water after- 
 wards. No police proceedings. The public are quick to 
 believe the worst : how are they to know that these letters 
 were but a piece of mischief -making between two school- 
 girls — about a music-master — who never saw a single line 
 of them ? " 
 
 She had gradually weaned him back from wider and 
 more distracting thoughts to this bit of business immediately 
 on hand : he began to take an interest in it. 
 
 " What you say is quite right. Aunt Jean," he answered 
 her, presently. " There must be no police proceedings. 
 We must catch him some other way — and give him a dose 
 that will last him for the rest of his life. Of course the 
 animal was counting on impunity ; they all do that ; they 
 reckon that their victim will suffer anything and sacrifice 
 anything rather than face a public scandal. It comes to 
 this. Aunt Jean, that the blackmailing of an innocent 
 person is the one crime the law cannot punish without
 
 262 BRISEIS 
 
 hurting the innocent person more than the guilty one. 
 Very well : when the chance offers we must step in and 
 assist the law with a little private enterprise " 
 
 " Ay, now ye're talking sense, Frankie, lad ! " she said, 
 with obvious and extreme gratification. " And what will 
 ye do ? Ye must serve him well 1 What are ye thinking 
 of doing ? " 
 
 " That must be a matter for careful and pious considera- 
 tion. Aunt Jean," he answered her. " But as he appears 
 to have been dealing in terrorism, I propose to give him a 
 sample of his own wares — something just about sufficient 
 to frighten the soul out of his body, as you might say. 
 And in the mean time I will take a rim up to Oxford, this 
 afternoon or to-morrow morning : I know one or two of 
 the lads there who would like to join in a little frolic. 
 This is his address, is it 1 Soho, of course. I suppose 
 he'll have a knife about him. However, we must try to 
 keep out of the police courts — anything short of that." 
 
 Indeed for the time being he seemed to welcome this 
 definite action demanded of him as a relief from the dis- 
 tressing perplexities that lay ahead ; and while Miss Jean 
 remained with him his brain was busy with projects by 
 means of which he might outwit the wily Greek. B^at 
 when she left (there had been a ring at the door, and she 
 judged that certain of her purchases had arrived) he re- 
 lapsed into contemplation of a future that appeared black 
 and hopeless enough. His imagination was haunted by 
 two figures : the one that of the proud-spirited Briseis, now 
 wounded to the quick, and hiding herself away in her 
 humiliation and shame ; the other that of the light-hearted 
 Georgie, soon to be coming gaily home, and little guessing 
 that she would be received by an unwilling lover, who, to 
 save his pledged word, must become a hypocrite husband. 
 How, he asked himself again and again, had such a state of 
 things arrived ? Who was to blame ? And what was to 
 be done, by way of reparation or atonement, if any such 
 thing were possible ? Should he meet Georgie Lestrange 
 with a frank explanation, and beg of her to forego her 
 claim ? Why, that were the very depth of meanness and 
 disloyalty and cowardice 1 Should he go to Briseis and 
 say ' I love you : you love me : let us break and cast aside
 
 DER EWIGE GESANG 263 
 
 all other bonds 1 ' But was the proud Briseis likely to 
 accept a dishonoured and dishonouring passion ? Which- 
 ever way he turned, he saw no guidance or ray of hope ; 
 and all the while his heart, in its wild desire and despair, 
 was secretly urging him to let his honour go. How many 
 minutes would it take him to drive to Devonshire Place ? 
 Would he find Briseis alone ? If he held her hands in his, 
 and forced her to meet eyes with eyes, surely she would 
 listen to the fervour of his appeal ! Love would as ever be 
 supreme and triumphant — even at the cost of a broken 
 troth ; and in the exultation and delirium of a new-found 
 happiness, who was to remind them how it had been come 
 by ? These were agonizing temptations : in mere self- 
 defence — to gain some quiet for his over-tortured spirit- 
 he compelled himself to turn to Argyi-iades and the possible 
 methods of overreaching him. This was an immediate 
 duty — and so far right welcome. 
 
 And in the mean time Jean Gordon had gone up stairs 
 to her own room, her alarm over these tragic happenings 
 being almost lost in the unholy and vindictive joy of 
 knowing that soon, and effectively, retribution was about 
 to fall on the creature who had driven Briseis Valieri to 
 desperation. As she opened these packages of finery sb.e 
 was crooning to herself an aimless little song — a Dee-side 
 Bong — that certainly had not much to do with the graver 
 matters that had just come into her life : 
 
 fair teas the dawning and fair was the day 
 When I met with young Donald in Camhus 0' May; 
 He called me Ms dawtie, he called me his dear, 
 
 He ashed if I'd marry, without any fear. 
 
 Wlien the sugar teas bought, and the tea, and the meal, 
 
 1 shoidd have gone home to Kincardine o* Neil; 
 But Donald's old mother she ashed me to stay. 
 And consent to a wedding in Camhus 0' May. 
 
 Tliree pipers came down from Fannanich Wills; 
 They fired of the cannon ; tliey rang all the hrlh ; 
 the march to the church it was gidlant nud gay. 
 When us two were married in Camhus o' May. 
 
 And noio I'm a widoio, gray-haired and alone ; 
 And the folks in Glen Muick are hard as a stone; 
 And. I sit by the fire, a7id I think of the day 
 When young Donald met me in Camhus o' May.
 
 264 BRISEIS 
 
 It was a simple song, of simple people, living away by 
 themselves in the remote Aberdeenshire valleys ; it had 
 apparently but little connection with any plans and schemes 
 of vengeance to be visited on a Greek blackmailer, here in 
 this teeming town of London. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 JUDGE A^D JUEY. 
 
 Of a sudden a shaft of light shot through this impending 
 gloom : it was a letter from Georgie, who wrote in the 
 blithest of spirits, vaunting herself as a physician and healer 
 of men, and forgetting all about her sham nostalgia in view 
 of her approaching voyage home. 
 
 " The fact is, I had to jeer him into convalescence ! " 
 ]\Iiss Georgie proceeded. "My diagnosis of the case was 
 that in the weakness following the fever he had allowed his 
 nerves to multiply themselves upon themselves (if I knew 
 Greek I would give you a name for this process that would 
 convince you at once) ; he had even begun to think about 
 dying ; and I had the greatest difficulty in persuading him 
 that dying was the very stupidest thing that any one could 
 do, and that thinking of it was next door to an invitation. 
 The doctors had half-murdered him with drugs. Why 
 will they go on like that ? They're aAvfully nice men ; and 
 at dinner they can tell you most amusing stories when they 
 choose ; instead of which they go about the country 
 breaking the sixth commandment. I know I'm an awful 
 fool (it's quite sweet to call yourself names, and to think 
 that no one else dare) but I saw what was to be done with 
 Percy ; I stopped those abominable fluids, and fed him on 
 things that gave his rebellious gorge a little rest ; and I 
 jibed at him and jeered at him ; and then he had to waken 
 up to answer me according to my cheek. And now he vows 
 and swears he will never let himself sink into that condition 
 again ; so I am going home with a light heart. And it's 
 awfully good of you, my gallant chieftain-boy, to ofl'er to 
 come over to New York ; but it isn't in the least necessary ;
 
 JUDGE AND JURY 265 
 
 for I'm going back under the wing of quite a company of 
 young folks that the de la Penas Imow, and what's more to 
 the purpose I calculate that we're likely to have a ripping 
 good time. The party is ultimately bound for Algiers and 
 other Mediterranean places ; and consists of Miss Madeline 
 Phayre and Miss Janie Phayre, sisters, Miss Romanes, 
 Mr. S. F. Quentin, of Chicago, and Mr. Algeciras, of this 
 neighbom'hood — along with a Madame St. Roche, who is to 
 play duenna ; and as the two gentlemen are engaged 
 respectively to the two sisters, I imagine that Miss 
 Romanes and I may have a little fun during the voyage — • 
 never mind, all property kidnapped or stolen during the 
 passage over to be honourably restored to the legal owner 
 on the steamer's arrival at Liverpool. But you wUl be at 
 Liverpool, I suppose ? And you won't scowl if they hint 
 that we've been having games ? Because it's so hideously 
 duU on board ship — unless there's a little quiet skylarking 
 afoot." 
 
 And so she went on, in a tone and fashion that reassured 
 him exceedingly. For he had been looking forward with 
 an indefinable dread to that first meeting with Georgie 
 Lestrange, whether it was to take place in Liverpool or 
 New York ; he had begun to fear she might discover what 
 had happened, and might scornfully reject the only atone- 
 ment he could offer. But these gay, rambling pages once 
 more brought the real and living Georgie before him, and 
 seemed to say to him that he might lay aside his vague 
 apprehensions. She was not likely to prove exacting as 
 regards romantic sentiment. Exalted moods — the language 
 of passion, simulated or true — would only make her laugh. 
 How it was — he reminded himself, as he was walking 
 quickly through the crowded thoroughfares of London, in 
 the direction of Soho — how it was that an evening saunter 
 into the solitude of a deer-forest should have suddenly 
 melted Miss Georgie into tears and brought about a mute 
 confession that had bound their two lives together, he had 
 never been able quite to determine. Nor could he clearly 
 understand why, ever since that engagement, he had found 
 himself under the necessity of arguing with himself and 
 proving to himself that he was the luckiest of men. How- 
 ever, these demonstrations and conclusions remained. They
 
 266 BRISEIS 
 
 were as sound now as ever they were. And the merry, and 
 mischievous, and happy-go-lucky young minx who had thus 
 buoyantly written to him would not be too exigent in the 
 matter of love-making ; her audacious spirit would take 
 little heed of trifles ; and all would go well. Yes, all would 
 go well — except in one direction : of which he dared hardly 
 think. 
 
 When Frank Gordon reached his destination in Soho, 
 and rang the bell, the evil-visaged harridan who answered 
 the summons informed him, in reply to his question, where 
 he would find Mr. Argyriades, but did not offer to accom- 
 pany him ; accordingly he ascended the dusky stairs alone, 
 he knocked at a certain door, and then, hearing some 
 unintelligible sound, he made bold to enter. The first 
 object that met his eyes, in this squalid little room, was the 
 figure of a young man in shirt sleeves and stockinged feet, 
 who was seated on the edge of a bed, and who was engaged 
 in carefully varnishing a pair of patent-leather boots ; the 
 next thing he perceived was that this young man, looking 
 up from his employment, suddenly grew livid — his pale and 
 unwholesome skin changing to the hue of one of the 
 lighter-coloured jades. It was but a momentary exhibition 
 of fear ; Argyriades made a desperate effort at regaining 
 his ordinary coolness and assured demeanour ; and if that 
 peculiar tinge still remained in his face, his manner 
 betrayed no immediate alarm. 
 
 And as for the tall, handsome, fresh-complexioned lad 
 who now stood at the door of this vile-smelling den, he also 
 had need of all his self-command. For it would have been 
 so easy to step forward, and seize this coward creature by 
 the neck, and shake him like a rat ; and indeed, for one 
 hot moment, the temptation — seeing the scoundrel face to 
 face — and thinking of the story that Briseis had told — was 
 almost irresistible. But Frank Gordon had vowed vows, 
 lie was going (the guileless English youth !) to be as coldly 
 diplomatic as Miss Jean herself could have desired. He 
 had come to circumvent a blackmailer ; not to ply cudgels, 
 and have names mentioned in a police-court. Hands off 
 was his watch-word ; though the natural man within him 
 was tingling. 
 
 And so he said, with a careful politeness —
 
 JUDGE AND JURY 267 
 
 »> 
 
 " Yoiir name is Argyriades, I believe ? 
 
 By this time Ai'gyriades had put aside his boots and the 
 blacking-pot. 
 
 " Please," said he, in broken English, " the Lord Fragkis 
 — speak French." 
 
 This was a contingency that Gordon had not faced, or he 
 would have framed some judicious sentences beforehand ; 
 BO that he had now to blunder on as best he might ; and at 
 no time was his French too fluent. 
 
 " I understand," he said, " that you have some letters 
 belonging to a lady — whose name need not be mentioned." 
 
 " Monsieur has been misinformed," was the instant and 
 suave rejoinder. "These letters are in the possession of 
 my brother Demetri." 
 
 Again young Gordon was disconcerted — at the very 
 outset. It seemed so much more simple (and desirable) to 
 take this fellow by the scruff of the neck, and heave him 
 about the room. But vows are vows. 
 
 " At all events you know where they are," he resumed, 
 " and I take it you could get hold of them and hand them 
 over, for a consideration : is not that so ? " 
 
 The young man with the cafe-and-toothpick complexion 
 shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " It ii* possible," he said. 
 
 " How much of a consideration ? " 
 
 "But Monsieur is a little too brusque. I have not 
 undertaken to sell those letters — no ; I come in as an 
 intermediary, to establish amicable relations ; I know the 
 inexorable nature of my brother Demetri, and I wish to 
 mitigate his demands. It is as a friend that I offer my 
 
 services " 
 
 " Oh, drop that " And again Frank Gordon stuck 
 
 fast. For the life of him he could not remember the 
 French equivalent for ' rot,' if there is any French equiva- 
 lent for that bit of English slang. At last he fell back on 
 lUm. " Oh, drop that stupidity 1 " he exclaimed. " I 
 have heard all about your brother Demetri — and your 
 admirable disinterestedness. It is a familiar farce, my 
 friend ; but we are not infants. What I want to know is 
 this — Can you put your hands on those letters, and bring 
 them to me, guaranteeing that not one is missing ; and if
 
 268 BRISEIS 
 
 you can do that, when will you do it, and what will your 
 price be ? Of course you know that you have abeady 
 placed yourself in a very serious position " 
 
 " I have guarded myself, Monsieur," the young man 
 answered, with the faintest trace of a smile. 
 
 " If there were a prosecution " 
 
 " There will be no prosecution." 
 
 " And so you think you are safe ? " Gordon said, re- 
 garding him in an apparently dispassionate manner. " You 
 are of opinion you can do this sort of thing with impunity. 
 You subject a perfectly innocent girl to a brutal ten-orism ; 
 you extort money from her ; you threaten, if she does not 
 get you more, to compromise her in the eyes of her 
 friends " 
 
 " Your proofs of all this ? " Argyriades said, quietly. 
 
 Another exasperating pause. It would have been so 
 much easier to have settled this matter with fists 1 But 
 stDl he sternly stuck to his diplomacy. 
 
 " Enough of words," he said. " Listen, if you please. I 
 am going down to Henley this afternoon, and may be there 
 some time. If you can get possession of those letters and 
 bring them to me the day after to-morrow — take doAvn the 
 address — Red Lion Hotel, Henley on Thames — then I will 
 give you a fair price for them. Do you understand ? — 
 Henley — Red Lion Hotel — you go from Paddington 
 station — the Great AVestern " 
 
 Argyriades reached over for his coat, took out from one 
 of the pockets a soiled envelope, and, with a little assistance 
 in the way of spelling, managed to jot down the address. 
 
 " And — and what may one expect. Monsieur, in recom- 
 pense for these valuable papers ? " 
 
 " I said a fair price," was the impassive reply. 
 
 " Monsieur is no doubt generous, as are all the English 
 milords. Nevertheless, one would prefer to be a little more 
 exact " 
 
 " I said a fair price." 
 
 " Yes, perfectly — but still- 
 
 " Then perhaps you yourself would have the goodness to 
 name a figiu-e ? " 
 
 Argyriades looked up quickly. 
 " Five hundred pounds."
 
 JUDGE AND JURY 269 
 
 There was neither protest nor scornful rejection. 
 
 " Five hundred pounds is a large sum," Gordon said, 
 slowly. 
 
 "Perhaps — but look at the value of these papers, 
 Monsieur 1 " Argyriades made answer, with unwonted 
 eagerness. " Consider their value. Consider the harm 
 they might do — if they wer-e to fall into unfriendly hands. 
 My word of honour, it is not too much to pay to shield a 
 young lady's reputation 1 Consider the position in which 
 she has placed herself — the testimony these letters bring 
 agfiiinst her " 
 
 In an instant all the situation was changed. Gordon 
 sprang to his feet and strode forward a step — his eyes 
 bm-ning and glaring. 
 
 " Another such word — you infamous cur — and I will 
 choke the life out of your miserable body 1 " 
 
 " Monsieur ! — Monsieur ! " Argyriades exclaimed — and 
 strangely enough he picked up his boots and hm-riedly put 
 them on. " If there is to be violence, I must go out and 
 seek help. Of what use is force — is rage ? You cannot 
 compel me to give up the letters unless I wish. I appeal 
 to the magistrate for protection — if you wish for an ex- 
 posure, very well " 
 
 By this time he had got on his coat too But Gordon 
 
 at once passed to the door, intercepting him. 
 
 " No, you don't leave this room until we come to some 
 aiTangement — of one kind or an other " 
 
 " Very well. Monsieur, very well," Argyriades replied in 
 an injured tone. " I am indeed willing to come to an 
 agreement — it is Monsieur who is so headstrong and liable 
 to anger. And why ? I have been doing my best for the 
 young lady — I have done what I could to protect her " 
 
 " You ? " said Frank Gordon, with his eyes glaring again. 
 
 " From my brother Demetri " 
 
 " Oh, to the devil with your brother Demetri ! Have 
 done with that farce. I want to know if you can bring me 
 those letters the day after to-morrow, at the address I have 
 given you. Understand, I don't want the school-girl letters ; 
 you may keep those — and publish them if you like : I mean 
 the letters written to you — including the one enclosing you 
 money "
 
 270 BRISEIS 
 
 " Monsieur, I will bring every one 1 " said Argyriades, 
 with an expression of devout sincerity. " Solemnly, on my 
 heart, I declare to you that I will bring every one. You, 
 I know will be a faithful guardian : in the interests of the 
 young lady herself, to whom could I better entrust them ? 
 Then my duty will be done— as mediator — as the protector 
 against Demetri. Only, pardon me. Monsieur the Lord 
 Fragkis — the sum was not precisely agreed upon " 
 
 " I said a fair price," Gordon reiterated. 
 
 " Five hundred pounds, then ! " Argyriades said, with an 
 air of finally and satisfactorily closing the bargain ; and 
 then, after a few more directions as to how he was to find 
 his way, these two separated — for the time being. 
 
 A couple of days thereafter, and towards three o'clock in 
 the afternoon, a smartly-dressed young gentleman might 
 have been observed loitering about in front of the Red Lion 
 Hotel, Henley. He was a lad of prepossessing appearance 
 — well-featured, fair-skinned, light-haired, and blue-eyed ; 
 and if his figure was somewhat short and slight, at least he 
 had an upright carriage and set of the head : indeed, good 
 looks were part of the boy's inheritance, for this was Lord 
 Alec Ross, youngest son of the Dake of Kintyre, and the 
 Kintyre family have been famous for generations for their 
 handsome men and beautiful women. As he strolled up 
 and down, he was idly gazing around him — though there 
 was not much to see ; for Henley in winter-time is a dull 
 and deserted place ; and on this particular afternoon the 
 cold and palhd sunshine could hardly muster up a gleam on 
 the leaden service of the river ; an east wind had brought 
 a faint mist to hang about the wooded heights ; while the 
 wide main street, the old stone bridge, and the banks 
 showed hardly anywhere a sign of human life. It was 
 mostly in the direction of the railway station, however, that 
 the yellow-haired lad sent his occasional and expectant 
 glances. 
 
 Presently, from that neighbourhood, there hove into 
 sight a young man who, judging by the way he examined 
 the houses as he came along, appeared to be a stranger. In 
 due course he found himself confronted by the sign of the 
 Red Lion, and straightway he made for the door of the 
 hotel. And by some kind of accident the ingenuous-eyed
 
 JUDGE AND JURY 271 
 
 youth who had been loitering about drew near at the same 
 moment. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, Monsieur," the latter said, in very 
 excellent French, "but perhaps you have a desire to see 
 Sir Francis Gordon ? " 
 
 Argyriades did not answer at once. Whether he resented 
 this intrusion, or whether he was disconcerted at being so 
 readily recognised, could not weU be gathered from his 
 look. 
 
 " I have an appointment — at this hotel " 
 
 " Certainly. Quite right. But Sir Francis wasn't exactly 
 sure as to the moment you might arrive ; and he is en- 
 grossingly busy in his house-boat — you comprehend .? — a 
 house-boat — a house built on a boat ; it's only a little way 
 up the river ; and he said he would be infinitely obliged to 
 you if you would come along and see him there " 
 
 " But, Monsieur," said Argyriades, rather drawing back, 
 " it was at the hotel I had an appointment " 
 
 "Oh, it's all right," said the young lad — and his clear 
 blue eyes wore an expression of entirely superhuman 
 innocence, while his speech was off-hand and matter-of-fact. 
 " The house-boat is a favourite resort of Sir Francis's — for 
 study, you understand — the University of Oxford is just 
 along this highway here ; and then it is convenient some- 
 times to get away from one's companions, you doubtless 
 agree with me. And now have the goodness to accompany 
 me, Monsieur ; we wlU drop into a boat ; and I will pull 
 you up to the island — a few minutes only — I will myself 
 take you to Sir Francis " 
 
 After a second of hesitation Argyriades appeared to 
 overcome his reluctance — or annoyance. He said — 
 
 " Thanks, Monsieur, if you will be so kind "• — and there- 
 with he allowed himself to be conducted along to the 
 landing-stage, and under direction he got into the stern of 
 a dingy old skiff, while Lord Alec took the oars and pro- 
 ceeded to pull up stream. 
 
 And now the Oxford lad, seated opposite his companion, 
 had an excellent opportunity of scanning his appearance ; 
 the result of the scrutiny being an inward ejaculation — ' I 
 wonder what the Duke would say if he saw me taking this 
 dilapidated dandy out for a row on the Thames ! ' But the
 
 272 BRISEIS 
 
 remarks that he addressed to Argyriades himself were of a 
 different character. 
 
 " I understand that you come from Greece, Monsieur," he 
 observed, with airy good-nature. " It is a land which has 
 given the youth of this country a great deal of trouble, 
 particularly in their earher years ; but they don't bear any 
 malice — not at all ! Have you any house-boats on the 
 Eurotas ? No ? — you surprise me ! Any pike-fishing — on 
 the Alpheus, for example ? The tastes of Monsieur do not 
 lie in that direction, perhaps. But at least you have 
 bobbed for gold-fish in the Fountain of Arethusa, in among 
 the papyrus stems, you know ? — pardon me, I forgot ; that 
 is in Sicily, There must be other amusements, however. 
 Have you any foot-ball in Athens ? " 
 
 " Balloons, Monsieur ? " repeated Argyriades — but sus- 
 piciously, for the lad's girlish blue eyes were almost too 
 artless. 
 
 " Xo, no — foot-ball — the game. The ball is a ball of 
 leather, not of great value ; but two sides fight for it, 
 fm-iously ; and then when the fight is over anybody may 
 have the ball — anybody — you, or I, or Tom-Jim-Jack. 
 You know Tom-Jim-Jack, Monsieur? No? Is it possible ! 
 He lives by the First of the Fourth, that is, when he is at 
 home, naturally. And so you have not seen the game of 
 foot-ball ? — how unfortunate ! But at all events you have 
 cricket — the game of cricket that is kno^n to aU the world — 
 no doubt you could find an excellent pitch on the Plain 
 of Marathon " 
 
 " Ah, Monsieur ! — see ! — see 1 " cried Argyriades, in 
 
 greatest alarm, for apparently the bow of the skiff was 
 about to crash into the side of a house-boat that was 
 lying alongside a small and willowy island in mid-stream. 
 But Alec* Ross knew what he was about : with a glance 
 over his shoulder he dug his left oar into the water, shipped 
 his right at the same moment, and the skiff glided quietly 
 under the gunwale of the house-boat, and came to rest. 
 The countenance of the Greek resumed its wonted com- 
 posure. 
 
 It was a strange place for a rendezvous — this forlorn 
 and dismantled house-boat lying in among the pollard 
 trunks and withered herbage of the solitaiy island ; lint
 
 JUDGE AND JURY 273 
 
 Lord Alec did not give his companion much time for 
 observation ; he hitched the painter of the skiff to the 
 gunwale of the boat, got on board, and invited Argyriades 
 to follow. The Greek, whatever he may have thought, 
 obeyed in silence ; his eyes were on the alert, however ; 
 and when young Ross, descending a couple of steps into a 
 sort of shallow cockpit, opened a door in front of him and 
 pohtely asked his guest to enter, the latter paused. And 
 yet there was no sign of any ambush or beguihng ; indeed 
 there was no indication of life anywhere ; a profound 
 silence reigned ; and Argyriades himseK had noticed, on 
 drawing near this isolated house-boat, that not a curl 
 of smoke issued from its stove-pipe, though the day was 
 cheerless enough and cold. 
 
 " I beg you to proceed. Monsieur," said young Ross. 
 " It is somewhat dark — but if you step forward — and push 
 aside the curtain " 
 
 Almost at the same moment the curtain was drawn aside, 
 from within ; and there broke upon the Greek's senses a 
 scene well calculated to shake even the firmest nerves. 
 For before him there was a long and barely-furnished 
 apartment, all the windows of which were closed and 
 shuttered ; three lamps, suspended from the roof, shed a 
 yellow light ; at the head of the table sat a figure wearing 
 a black mask ; on each side of the table were two others, 
 similarly disguised ; a sixth stood sentry by the arras ; 
 while on the board before the conspirators lay a couple of 
 fencing-foils with the buttons off, and a pair of old-fashioned 
 cavalry pistols of formidable aspect. Perhaps Argyriades 
 did not grasp all these details in this one wild second ; but 
 at least he perceived that he had been trapped ; and in- 
 stantly he turned to escape — only to find that the yellow- 
 haired youth had shut the door behind him and locked it 
 on the outside. lie tugged and struggled desperately — 
 and in vain : then a hand was laid on his shoulder. 
 
 " It is useless," said the masked figiu-e who had been 
 standing by the curtain — which had now been drawn wholly 
 aside. 
 
 For a moment Argyriades attempted bravado. He con- 
 fronted this black-visaged company. 
 
 " What is the meaning — of this outrage ? " he demanded.- 
 
 T
 
 274 BRISEIS 
 
 " I will appeal to the magistrate " But here he hap- 
 pened to catch sight of the weapons displayed on the table ; 
 and his courage seemed to fall away. " Gentlemen," said 
 he, pitifully, " what is your intention ? What do you 
 wish with me ? What have I done ? " 
 
 The person at the head of the board rose in a slow and 
 deliberate manner, and remained standing. 
 
 " Attend, sir, and listen to what I have to say," he 
 began ; and if his French pronunciation may have left 
 something to be desired, at least he spoke methodically, 
 so that there should be no mistake about his meaning. 
 " Andreas Argyriades," he continued, " we have beeo 
 informed, and we have reason to believe, that you have 
 been guilty of attempting to extort money by threats, and 
 also of harassing and persecuting a countrywoman of your 
 o\Mi, who ought rather to have had a claim on your 
 sympathy. The crime of blackmailing is punishable by 
 English law ; but uufortimately, in the case of such 
 offences, justice is done at the expense of the innocent as 
 well as the guilty. You therefore thought you could act 
 with impunity. You erred. We here assembled mean to 
 assist the law, without that publicity which you reckoned 
 to be your safeguard. And yet we do not intend to take 
 advantage of our nmnbers. You are completely at our 
 mercy, as y6u must perceive ; but you shall have a fair 
 field and no favoiu" ; you shall have your choice not only 
 of these weapons but of your antagonist ; we only demand 
 that you make reparation for the evil you have done, and 
 the worse evil that you contemplated " 
 
 The pale face of Argjriades had grown ghastly. 
 
 " Gentlemen — sir — I beseech you ! " he managed to articu- 
 late ; and in the extremity of his dismay he appeared to 
 shrink back from those hideous objects lying before him. 
 " It will be murder ! I know nothing of these weapons — 
 no — I tell you it will be mm-dcr ! Gentlemen, I beg of 
 you ! — listen to me ! — I have an explanation. Gentlemen, 
 1 am a friend of the young lady — an old friend of hers — 
 my sister and she were school-fellows. Gentlemen, one of 
 you must be the Lord Fragkis Gordon ; he will assure you 
 th:it I have declared myself her friend, her devoted friend. 
 And now, gentlemen, this is the truth : it was my brother
 
 JUDGE AND JURY 273 
 
 who found these letters ; and when I discovered the evil 
 use he wished to make of them, I determined to save the 
 young lady. Gentlemen, it is the truth — on my honour — • 
 on the honour of my mother, it is the truth I I determined 
 to save her. I came all the way to England to protect her 
 — for I knew that if my brother showed these letters to any 
 one, then her reputation would be blasted for ever " 
 
 But at this one of those present — the one nearest Argyri- 
 ades — sprang to his feet, and tore off his mask, and flung it 
 on the table. 
 
 " You damned har and coward ! " said Gordon, with his 
 eyes blazing ; and with the back of his hand he smote the 
 Greek across the mouth. " Will that make you fight, then ? 
 I knew you wouldn't face these weapons — they were only 
 put there to scare you — you miserable cur I Here, you 
 fellows," (this in English) " haul his coat off for him — hold 
 him up — haul the beast on to his legs — and I'll give him 
 the wholesomest thrashing he ever had in his born days ! " 
 
 For by this time Argyriades, beside himself with terror, 
 had literally sunk upon his knees, and with trembling hands 
 he was opening a packet of papers that he had pulled from 
 his pocket. 
 
 " See, gentlemen ! — see. Lord Fragkis ! — -I give them to 
 you — every one — and I do not ask for a centime ! "What 
 more, gentlemen ? I give you them — every one — and not 
 a centime — only let me go ! Gentlemen, have mercy ! — 
 have pity ! — and I swear solemnly I will not say a word of 
 this that you have done " 
 
 " Haul the beast on to his legs ! " Gordon cried again, 
 furiously. 
 
 But the leader of the band came along. 
 
 "I say, Gordon," he muttered in English, "you can't 
 fight that fellow — I wouldn't soil my boots with kicking 
 him. See if the papers are all right ; and then we'll pitch 
 him into the river, or fling him ashore somehow. Good 
 Lord, I've often heard of blue funk, but never saw green 
 funk before ! — look at him ! — green, by Jingo, green 1 " 
 
 Whereupon Gordon got hold of the bundle of letters ; 
 and it was those addressed to Argyriades himself that he 
 was most particular about ; so far as he could judge by 
 what Briseis had told him, the collection was complete. 
 
 T 2
 
 276 BRISEIS 
 
 And then there only remained to bundle this abject wretch 
 out of the boat and into the skiff : he appeared hardly to 
 know what he was doing — fear had paralysed his brain. 
 
 " I hope, Monsieur," said Lord Alec Eoss, as he put the 
 oars in the rowlocks, " that your interview with Sir Francis 
 Gordon proved satisfactory. And may one ask where you 
 would like to be landed ? " 
 
 "To the shore — to the shore — anywhere," gasped this 
 green-faced creature, whose horror-stricken eyes seemed to 
 be thinking back. 
 
 " Because I don't propose to take you down to Henley, 
 for reasons that I have," continued Lord Alec. " I would 
 rather, if you don't object, land you on that other bank 
 there ; and — and— well, if you strike across country, you'll 
 
 come to a railway-station in time, you know " 
 
 " Anywhere — anywhere that you please," was the almost 
 inarticulate response. 
 
 " You are extremely obliging," said Lord Alec ; and_ in 
 .•cquital of this courtesy he took some trouble in choosing 
 a convenient landing-place, so that Argyriades should get 
 ashore without difficulty. The Greek did not look behind 
 him as he left. 
 
 A short time thereafter a party of seven young gentlemen 
 had assembled in a private room in the Red Lion. A brake 
 was at the door below, waiting to convey six of them to 
 Oxford ; but in the meantime they were refreshing them- 
 selves with five-o'clock tea — which consisted of brandy and 
 soda and cigarettes ; and there was a great deal of talking 
 and laughing. In the midst of the hubbub one of them 
 happened to glance at an early edition of a London evening 
 paper that the waiter had just brought in. 
 
 "Hallo, Gordon," he cried, "what the dickens is this? 
 Doesn't this concern you ? " 
 
 He handed over the pink sheet ; and the first headline 
 that caught Frank Gordon's eye was sufficiently startling— 
 ' Attempted Assassination of the Prince of Monteveltrc' 
 
 I
 
 * LOVED I NOT HONOUR MORE' 277 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 'loved I NOT HOXOUB, MORE.' 
 
 Reuter's telegram briefly narrated how the Prince of 
 Monteveltro, walking home on the previous evening from 
 the Club at Sofia to his hotel, in company with the British 
 Diplomatic Agent, had been shot at by some one unknown, 
 but had fortunately escaped, the bullet just grazing his ear. 
 It was a clear moonlight night ; and the British Agent, 
 having ascertained that his friend was but slightly wounded, 
 had started off in pursuit of the assailant, who, however, 
 could not be found, though one or two bystanders aided in 
 the search. It was impossible to say whether the outrage 
 was of political origin ; but it was well known in Sofia that 
 the Prince of Monteveltro had been on intimate terms with 
 the late ]\I. Stambuloff. So far Renter ; and the telegram 
 from the Princess which Frank Gordon found awaiting him 
 on his return to his rooms was even more laconic — ' No 
 cause for alarm ' ; but the letter which in due course fol- 
 lowed gave him more ample information. 
 
 ' It is really most provoking,' the Princess wrote. ' You 
 can't imagine how vexed and irritated he has been by this 
 trifling affair. Not that he was or is frightened — not in 
 the least. I don't believe a Montenegrin is capable of the 
 sensation of fear — unless when he sees somebody about to 
 open a soda-water bottle. But the Prince is annoyed 
 and indifinant beyond measure ; it is just as if a small boy 
 had hit him with a pebble — a small boy out of the range of 
 his whip ; and this bit of plaster on his ear keeps him in a 
 constant state of fret. Why did we come to Sofia ? Why 
 were we in Bulgaria at all ? Why couldn't we let other 
 people's afi"airs alone ? Not only that, but because his ear 
 tickles him he has been threatening to abdicate — in favour 
 of his brother George ! Think of it ! — abdication \—jiist 
 noiv ! — JUST NOW ! — when the Great Partitioning is clearly 
 on the horizon. Of course Prince George is a very worthy 
 man ; he makes an efficient Commander of the Body- 
 guard ; and he is a good soldier and drill-inspector ; but if 
 He were to come well out of the general scrimmage, his
 
 278 BRISEIS 
 
 very highest ambition would be to get our frontier extended 
 across to Obribazar. Abdication 1 — just because somebody 
 or something gave him a httle clip on the ear ; and we are 
 to give up the Great Game that is being played out here 
 just now ; and we are to go and rent a place in the High- 
 lands — some place like Glen Skean, I suppose, where 
 Heaven is to be represented by a perpetual stalking of 
 stags. I won't deny that this attempt on his life may have 
 arisen out of political feeling ; for the last time we were in 
 Sofia he made far too open a parade of his acquaintanceship 
 with StambulofF — playing baccarat every other night with 
 him at the Club, and so on ; and all because Stambuloff 
 professed to be interested in the antics of Wienerschnitzel 
 and Gurkensalat. A most imprudent parade ; as I warned 
 him at the time ; and it is quite possible that some of the 
 fanatic friends of Panitza's may have him down on their 
 list ; but to talk of abdication because a bit of sticking- 
 plaster worries the lobe of your ear is really too absurd ! 
 
 'Besides, even supposing that some crazy hmatic or 
 association of lunatics cherishes a design against the Prince, 
 that can only be through a mistake, and the mistake will be 
 set right directly, when the Prince's true position and 
 probable sympathies will be declared to all Europe. For 
 what do you think is going to happen ? You need not 
 proclaim it in the market-place — not at least until the news 
 has got into the St. Petersburg papers — but I learn on very 
 excellent authority that the Czar is about to present to his 
 faithful ally, the Prince of Montcveltro, a cargo of muni- 
 tions of war — hill-guns, rifles, cartridges, dynamite, etc., 
 etc. ; and if this significant gift does not keep those 
 Bulgarian Russomaniacs quiet, what can ? Instead of 
 taking a chance sliot at him from behind a ruined wall, 
 they will be more likely to invite him to become a candidate 
 for the throne of the Principality, in the almost certain 
 event of the porridge-pot boiling over one of these days. 
 And to think of going off in a huff to the Highlands of 
 Scotland 1 Yet S. A. is a self-willed man, just once in a 
 while : from January to December as easy-going a person 
 as ever you met ; and then on some 29th of February he 
 puts his foot down — and lo Prince le veult, with a vengeance 1 
 And what, then, if we were to bid a long farewell to all our
 
 'LOVED I NOT HONOUR MORE' 279 
 
 gi'eatness, and end by settling down somewhere about the 
 Grampians, becoming your neighbours as soon as you have 
 married your ruddy-haired enchantress ? I suppose S. A. 
 imagines that deer-stalking and salmon-fishing last all the 
 year round ; and that hell always have the Bom-ne girls to 
 play Beethoven for him ; and Lady Rockminster and Lady 
 Adela to dance Scotch reels in the evening when the men 
 come down from the moor. But no — but no ! He is 
 peevish and out of temper just now, merely because a wasp 
 has stung him ; and we will not allow him to give up the 
 Great Game because of so trifling a circumstance. And I 
 know him. I know when the first bugle sounds — and sound 
 it will ere long — the old war-horse will answer with his 
 neigh. And it is not Prince George who will be consulted 
 about the rectification of frontier hues.' 
 
 Frank Gordon had made the waiting for this letter an 
 excuse for delaying his visit to Briseis — that visit of expla- 
 nation and farewell that he looked forward to with an im- 
 measurable dread and pain. He had persuaded him self 
 that he must have full details of the attempted assassination ; 
 at any moment he might be summoned away to the East ; 
 he must remain at his mother's beck and call. But now 
 that he knew all there was to be known, he could no longer 
 shelter himself behind these pretexts. He had to undertake 
 this terribly delicate mission, come what might, though the 
 Buffering it would cause he would have heeded less if he 
 could have borne it alone ; it was his thought of Briseis 
 that was the origin of this almost insmmountable shrinking 
 and reluctance. If Aunt Jean had but consented to act as 
 intermediary 1 And then again he argued with himself 
 that Aunt Jean had been of true judgment in this matter ; 
 it was the more manly thing for him to go straight to the 
 girl herself ; and if she treated him with proud anger and 
 disdain — if she were pitiless — well, that she had a perfect 
 right to do and to be ; and he would carry his punishment 
 with him through many and many long years of remem- 
 bering. 
 
 He was a very unhappy lad as he walked up to Devon- 
 Bhire Place ; but he experienced some relief on finding that 
 Briseis was not in the drawing-room when he was shown in. 
 Mrs. Elliott was, however ; and she rose with effusion —
 
 28o BRISEIS 
 
 and with some touch of colour in the tired and pathetic 
 face — to welcome her visitor. 
 
 "My dear Sir Francis, I was beginning to think we 
 should never see you again — and then that dreadful affair 
 out there in the East — you cannot tell how upset we all 
 were by the news, and how we have been sympathising with 
 the poor Princess. My bonny darlings were out at afternoon 
 tea when the evening paper was brought in — they are such 
 tender-hearted, unselfish, generous things, and so anxious to 
 help in the charities that dear I.ady Hammersley has under 
 her charge — and I assm-e you there was quite a scene when 
 the announcement was read aloud about the attempted 
 murder : they are so extremely sensitive and sympathetic — 
 their concern about the poor Princess was quite affecting, 
 so I am told. The poor dears had to come home in a cab — 
 though they know well that I expect them to practise the 
 strictest economy ; and Brenda especially — she is of such 
 a nervously susceptible natm-e — she was quite overcome, and 
 lay down on a sofa, and we had to administer port wine 
 again and again before we could get her calmed and soothed. 
 And what are your last tidings of the dear Princess, Sir 
 Francis ? I suppose she is completely overwhelmed — such a 
 narrow escape ! — such an awful calamity just averted by the 
 finger of Providence — I hope she is bearing up well " 
 
 " Oh, yes, pretty well," the young man replied. " Indeed 
 she seems to look upon the whole alfuir as rather a humorous 
 incident. You see, it wasn't her ear that had a bit taken 
 out of it." 
 
 " And the poor Prince — I do hope he has quite recovered 
 from the shock 1 " 
 
 "I don't know about the shock," he said, "but I do 
 know he is extremely annoyed and angry. And it is no 
 great wonder. He doesn't want to be dragged into all 
 these political imbroglios. He wants to bo let alone. He 
 is not a quarrelsome man at all ; he likes to amuse himself 
 with his two black poodles ; and naturally he resents being 
 flicked on the ear in consequence of other people's disputes. 
 The sooner he gets back to the mountainous security of 
 Montcveltro the better." 
 
 He had been talking almost at random — with an ever- 
 present consciousness tliat at any moment the door of this
 
 'LOVED I NOT HONOUR MORE' 281 
 
 room might open. And if these polite questions and 
 perfunctory answers formed a sort of respite for the time 
 being, he knew that it could not avail for long ; nay, he at 
 length grew impatient and desperate ; he was forced to 
 interrupt this idle conversation. 
 
 " Mrs. Elliott," said he, " may I ask if Miss Yalieri is at 
 home ? " 
 
 " Oh yes," replied the widow, blithely. " Oh yes. She 
 was so very good-natured as to insist on remaining behind, 
 when all the others were going off to Madame Eeichenwald's 
 concert ; for her cousin, poor boy, is in bed with a bad cold, 
 and he won't have any one but her to read to him ; and 
 she is the dearest creature — so ready to sacrifice any little 
 pleasure of her own — and so cheerful about it, too " 
 
 " For to tell you the truth I called to see her," he said, 
 blimtly enough ; and then he continued, in a more 
 hesitating manner : " The fact is, I was entrusted with a 
 small commission — perhaps I ought to say I undertook it 
 on my own responsibility ; and if you don't mind, Mrs. 
 Elliott — if it is not an inconvenience to you — I should like 
 to see her for a few moments — by herself, I mean " 
 
 Aunt Clara rose with much good nature, 
 
 " I will send her to you at once. But," she added, as she 
 was leaving, " I must see you before you go, Sir Francis. 
 My darling girls would never forgive me if there were not 
 some proper message of sympathy sent to the poor dear 
 Princess. So au revoir ! " 
 
 For two or three minutes he was left alone in this silent 
 room, in no enviable state of mind. And then the door 
 opened ; and here was Briseis — somewhat pale, perhaps, but 
 as beautiful as ever, so overmasteringly beautiful, indeed, 
 that of a sudden his heart cried aloud to him ' To me — to 
 me — to me ! Take her — enfold her — that is the one 
 woman in all the world ! ' But the next moment that 
 passionate cry was stilled. He became conscious that the 
 Briseis standing there and confronting him was not the 
 Briseis with whom he had so recently parted — all unstrung 
 and unnerved, piteous, half-himiiliated, appealing. This 
 Briseis was cold, distant, and of a perfect self-command ; 
 the calm, straightforward regard she fixed on him was not 
 questioning — nor yet repellent — but only attentive, in a
 
 282 BRISETS 
 
 proud kind of way ; sweet and serene as she looked — as she 
 could not help looking — she appeared to have become in some 
 strange fashion remote. And a singular thing was that she 
 had not advanced to greet him in the usualjlnanner ; perhaps 
 neither he nor she noticed the omission ; it was hardly a 
 time for formalities. But this outward impassivity of hers 
 chilled and disconcerted him ; this was not Briseis at all ; 
 this was a beautiful stranger, distinguished-looking, noble- 
 looking, com'teous, complaisant — and ten thousand miles 
 away. 
 
 There was no awkward pause of silence ; for he had a 
 message to deliver. 
 
 " I have brought you the letters Argyriades got possession 
 of," said he, " and I do not think he will trouble you any 
 more." 
 
 He took out the packet and placed it on the table. She 
 betrayed neither sm-prise, nor joy, nor gratitude ; but she 
 came forward a step or two. 
 
 " Won't you be seated ? " she said. " I wish you to read 
 those letters." 
 
 He had not expected any such proposal ; he looked 
 disappointed and pained. 
 
 " Oh, no — no," he said, rather stiffly. 
 
 " But I wish it," she rejoined. 
 
 " Then I refuse," he said — his forehead flushing. 
 
 " I have been told that these letters would compromise 
 my good name if they were shown to any one," she 
 proceeded, in a deliberate manner, " and I wish to know if 
 that is true." 
 
 " And by whom were you told ! " he answered her, with 
 scorn. " By a miserable wretch trying to extort money, 
 and ready for any amount of brazen lying. "Well, he is not 
 likely to repeat that performance — at least where you are 
 concerned." 
 
 Then in somewhat set terms she thanked him for having 
 secured and restored these papers ; and she even went the 
 length of asking, in a more or less direct way, whether he 
 had paid anything, and how much, to Argyriades. And 
 Frank Gordon could only say to himself, bitterly enough, 
 that if she chose to shame and insult him, she was within 
 her right in doing so.
 
 'LOVED I NOT HONOUR MORE' 283 
 
 u 
 
 ■ What did I give him ? " he said. *' I gave him a 
 Btroke across the mouth ; and he took it submissively. 
 That was all he got ; but it appeared to satisfy him ; I 
 don't think he will deal in threats and menaces for some 
 time to come. And perhaps I ought to tell you that I did 
 look at some of the letters — those that you wrote to 
 Argyriades — I wanted to see if he had brought all of them 
 back — according to what you told me ; and I think you 
 will find they are all there." 
 
 " Yes ; but there are others : I wish you to read them," 
 she said, coldly. 
 
 " Why should you persist in taunting me ? " he answered 
 her, in accents of reproach. 
 
 " Taunting you ? " 
 
 "Yes, indeed. You are telling me that I need to be 
 convinced of this or that, with regard to you 1 And that 
 is what you think of me ! Well, the poorest opinion you 
 can have of me is better than I deserve, I know that. I 
 know that " 
 
 All this time he had hardly dared to meet her eyes, so 
 banished from her had he been by the studious dignity and 
 C'yiirtesy of her demeanour ; and the wild desire there was 
 within him to beg for forgiveness — to beg for friendliness — 
 for anything that would restore something like their former 
 relationship could find no words whatever. His heart was 
 passionately urging him to speak ; and yet a kind of hope- 
 lessness had overcome him ; her manner — her tones — even 
 the poise of her head, that in other days he had so much 
 admired — seemed all too plainly to say to him : ' You — you 
 are but as one of the other strangers whom I find smToimd- 
 ing me. You will judge as they will judge. If, then, you 
 have heard anything against my good name, read these 
 letters for yourself ; and when you have been convinced, 
 go. Having cleared myself, I have no wish to continue 
 any fm'ther association ; and you may return and take your 
 place amongst the crowd.' 
 
 " Well, yes," he resumed, after a moment, " the poorest 
 opinion you can form of me is no doubt the just one ; and 
 if you think that I could be influenced by anything that 
 such a fellow as Argyriades might say — or if you think that 
 I should want to read anything in order to have my faith
 
 284 BR/SEIS 
 
 in you confirmed or re-established — let it bo so. Let it be 
 so. But there are one or two points that I should wish to 
 explain, before saying good-bye " 
 
 "Yes, before saying good-bye," she repeated — almost 
 relentlessly, as it appeared to his wrought-up imagination ; 
 and the pallor in the perfect and exquisite face, that, too, 
 seemed to speak unmistakeably of a final farewell. 
 
 " I gathered, partly from yourself, partly from what Aunt 
 Jean told me, that you had been disturbed — surprised, 
 perhaps I shoidd say — by one or two small things : my 
 remaining away from this house, my not answering your 
 letter for some days, and the like. Well, when you came 
 to me, fancying that perhaps Argyriades had been the cause 
 of this conduct on my part, I told you he had nothiug 
 whatever to do with it. But I did not give you the true 
 explanation. And as it is to be good-bye, 1 should not like 
 you to look back and believe that I had been guilty of any 
 intentional discourtesy " 
 
 Then he lost his head somewhat. 
 
 " Briseis, do you not know — can you not guess — what 
 forced me to give up a friendship that seemed so beautiful 
 a thing, and so harmless to every one concerned ? Do you 
 remember our first meeting — that morning on Uee-side — 
 when you came down alone to the river ? — do you re- 
 member how easily and simply we got talking together ? — 
 it appeared to be so natural that we should know each 
 other. I was free then ; my life was not pledged away to 
 any one ; and indeed I was not thinking of such things — 
 though Aunt Jean would have it, when she saw you, that 
 here was my great chance, for she took to you from the 
 very first, and would tell you now that she has never seen 
 any one like you. But I could not be so presumptuous ; 
 and besides, you and I were no more than merely acquainted, 
 even after you had been out to Grantly ; and then I went 
 away to the South — and — and other things happened — and 
 my life was no longer my own. But all the same, when I 
 heard you were in Loudon, I wanted to see you ; and the 
 oftcner we met the further did our slight acquaintanceship 
 grow into a friendship tliat was about my most valued 
 possession. I saw no harm in it ; for I was blind ; and the 
 passing hour was too delightful to be sacrificed. But during
 
 'LOVED I NOT HONOUR MORE' 28 5 
 
 all this time I was getting to understand you better and 
 better : you were not merely the beautiful stranger I had 
 met on Dee-side — nor yet the charming visitor who had 
 brought a kind of splendour with her into the dusky old 
 rooms at Grantly ; you had become — well, you had become 
 the Briseis that I know now — the Briseis that I shall hold 
 in my heart while I have life." 
 
 He ceased for the moment ; and his brows were knit 
 together, as if from some mental pain. 
 
 " I did not consider ; I was too confident and careless," 
 
 he went on. " If I had dreamed of any danger, I should 
 
 have looked upon my being engaged to marry another 
 
 woman as a suflicient safeguard. But I did not think ; 
 
 and one fascinating hour followed another ; and always 
 
 I was getting more and more into communion with the 
 
 winning subtleties of a nature the sweetest and purest that 
 
 I have known on earth. Oh, do not imagine I seek 
 
 to excuse myself. All the blame is mine. And there was 
 
 self-deception too. I deceived myself — I refused to look 
 
 at consequences — so long as there was another chance of 
 
 listening to the rustle of yom: dress on the stair, of seeing 
 
 you come into the room, of submitting once more to the 
 
 glamour of your voice and your eyes. And then there 
 
 came the awakening. It was at a dance — here in this 
 
 house — you wore yellow roses with your black dress, do 
 
 you remember ? — and that was the night I made the 
 
 discovery, that I loved one woman while my honour 
 
 bound me to another. It was a terrible discovery ; but at 
 
 least I could hope that the punishment for any mischief 
 
 that had been done would fall on my head alone ; and I 
 
 resolved to withdraw myself — not perhaps all at once, but 
 
 BO tliat no one should guess what had occurred. Briseis, 
 
 think as badly of me as you will ; I deserve the worst ; but 
 
 —but don't imagine I meant any slight " 
 
 While he was pouring forth these pathetic, blundering, 
 boyish utterances, the face of Briseis had undergone the 
 strangest transformation. Her cold impassivity of look 
 had changed into an eager interest and wonder ; and 
 wonder had given place to joy ; and joy had found its 
 expression in an inelTable hippiness ; thougli, to be sure, 
 before he had come to the end of his story, her eyes — the
 
 286 BRISEIS 
 
 soft, dark, eloquent eyes — had their conquering beauty all 
 bedimmed with tears. She went quickly towards him. 
 She held out her hand. 
 
 " My friend, for ever I " she said — and her grasp was as 
 firm as his o^vn. 
 
 The grandeur of her magnanimity — and her unconscious- 
 ness of it — amazed him : this was not the disdainful dis- 
 missal that he had expected, and that he felt he had earned. 
 Her wet eyes were affectionate and kind ; she held his 
 hand for a second or two ; and then she strove to put into 
 words some explanation of this sudden change in her 
 attitude towards him. 
 
 " Ah, you do not understand, then — you do not under- 
 stand that the treasure of a woman, all through her life, 
 is the remembrance that the one man she has loved has 
 loved her — yes, for a moment. She may not have what 
 is thought to be happiness ; she may not marry the man 
 she loves ; but that secret she carries with her, to her dying 
 day — and it is her treasure and her pride. No, no," she 
 continued, with a sort of wistful smile — and her speech was 
 broken and uncertain, almost to incoherence, " you cannot 
 understand — and I cannot explain. But — but you have 
 given me my treasure to keep — and I am more grateful 
 than I can say : what it would have been if we had parted 
 for ever and no word of revelation ! I am content. Dear 
 friend, do not think I am envious of any one 1 If — if 
 circumstances seem hard, then it is some other one who is 
 the happier. ... I wish her well. ... In time your love 
 will go to her — it is the way of the world — it is right to be 
 so. And you will forget — the Greek girl — to whom you 
 were kind. . . . Good-bye, dear friend — good-bye — God 
 bless you and her " 
 
 lie caught her in his arms, for he thought she would 
 have fallen. 
 
 " Briscis — it is not good-bye I " he said to her, in a low 
 voice — in a voice so intense that her eyes slirank away 
 from him. " It shall not be good-bye 1 I love you— 
 you love me : is not that enough ? It is the highest 
 law- " 
 
 She freed herself from his embrace. 
 
 *' Except honour," she said, with so much of her usual
 
 'LOVED I NOT HONOUR MORE' 287 
 
 sweet serenity that he stood rebuked and abashed, ashamed 
 of his momentary madness, and despairing of the fetters 
 that bomid him. As for her, she was clearly struggling 
 to recall her proud self-command, that had nearly broken 
 down ; and yet, as she gave him her hand for the last time, 
 there was the greatest tenderness in her regard ; and she 
 suffered him to kiss her on the forehead, in mute token of 
 farewell. Then she went from the room ; she had borne 
 herself bravely ; whatever of anguish and tragic renunciation 
 may have been in her heart was not for him to see. 
 
 And indeed all that afternoon, while she was engaged in 
 her ordinary domestic duties, and in her customary inter- 
 course with Olga and Brenda, with Miss Ada and Miss 
 Carlotta and the rest, she was in no wise cast down ; for 
 there still remained some after-glow of the gladness with 
 which she had heard the man she loved confess that he 
 loved her, and perhaps also some lingering trace of that 
 exaltation of feeling with which she had bade him go to 
 redeem his pledged faith. But in the solitude of her own 
 room at night, this high courage fell away from her. The 
 dark was filled with pictures — a succession of scenes ; and 
 it seemed to her that her life had been but a series of 
 bereavements ; and this last not the least cruel of these. 
 For now she was altogether alone. One after another had 
 departed from her ; and now he who in happier circum- 
 stances — such as fell to the lot of other women — might have 
 been her lover, he also was taken from her, through the 
 merciless decrees of fate. And what remained ? She con- 
 templated the long years before her with a shuddering 
 dread ; she would rather have the end, and that soon. In 
 those black hours of the night— her strength all gone — ■ 
 her pillow wet with tears — she went wearily back, as afore- 
 time, to seek for solace and soothing in the old, familiar 
 lines — 
 
 Over all the mountains 
 
 Is peace; 
 
 Along the far summits 
 
 nearest thou 
 
 Hardly a breath ; 
 
 The birds are hushed in the forest. 
 
 Wait thou only, and soon 
 
 Thou also shidt sleep.
 
 288 BRISEIS 
 
 But it was a wider sleep that her aching heart yearned and 
 prayed and sobbed for : a wider and larger sleep : the sleep, 
 sound and beneficent and dreamless, that shall endure 
 through the making and changing and dying of worlds. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 * SWEET NELLIE O'REE.' 
 
 It was about this time that one evening found Miss Georgie 
 Lestrange and her brother Percy the sole occupants of a 
 private sitting-room in the AValdorf Hotel, New York — a 
 room of considerable size, for the brightly decorated dinner- 
 table was laid for a party of eight, Percy Lestrange — a 
 young man of irregular features and red hair — was staring 
 contemplatively into the fire ; his sister, clad in a sea-going 
 costume of serge, was standing on tiptoe to bring herself on 
 a level with a slab of mirror in the over-mantel, so that she 
 miiiht arrange her neck-tie. The neck-tie was of a dark 
 green and blue tartan, with a slender Ime of yellow running 
 through it — the Gordon tartan, in fact. 
 
 And, as usual, the pretty and pert-nosed damsel was 
 talking away recklessly and at railway speed. 
 
 " I do call it a horrid nuisance, this starting off in the 
 middle of the night — don't you ? So unnecessary. Why, 
 what's the use of it ? I should have thought they'd want 
 all the daylight they could get to steam down the bay — 
 shouldn't you ? Never mind. There are compensations. 
 For you do have moments of sense, Percy — haven't you ? — ■ 
 and it was just snip-snap of you to think of this little send- 
 off, and getting Madame St. Iloche and the rest of us on 
 board all in good humour." She turned from the mantel- 
 piece and looked along the brilliant tabic, with evident 
 satisfaction. " And I, for one," she remarked, with some 
 significance, *' seeing as how strange things may eventuate 
 during the next day or two, I, for one, sha'n't be sorry to 
 have a jolly old tuck-in." 
 
 "Really, Georgie," he said, in a peevish manner, "your 
 language is too awful I And why will you keep on asking
 
 'SWEET NELLIE O'REE' 289 
 
 questions, when you don't expect any answer ? It's per- 
 fectly maddening ! Why can't you state your opinions, 
 without challenging assent — on perfectly immaterial points ? 
 Why that perpetual ' don't you ? ' and ' haven't you ? ' 
 and " 
 
 " Now, now, Percy, enough of that," she interposed, with 
 an air of authority. " That's all part and parcel of the 
 nervousness and irritability of your break-do^vn ; and you 
 undertook you wouldn't give way to it again. And you're 
 not going to quarrel on the very last night of our being 
 together — are you ? As if I hadn't enough to worry me ! 
 I think it was most inconsiderate of Lady Adela, don't you ? 
 To have this wretched book of hers waiting for me, and to 
 expect me to spend my only day in New York in hunting 
 up this Caspar Sprigg, to woolly-lamb him, and get him to 
 promise a review I It's too bad 1 Well, I can't now, any- 
 way. You'll have to, Percy — to-morrow or next day, before 
 you go back south." 
 
 " Let her look after her own woolly-lambing ! " said the 
 convalescent, crossly. " Besides, how am I to find out this 
 feUow ? " 
 
 " Oh, he's a Professor of something or other," said Miss 
 Georgie, as she took up the menu and regarded it with 
 imaginative eyes. " Anglophobia, as likely as not — Caspar 
 Sprigg, Professor of Anglophobia, University of Braggings- 
 ville — mightn't that fetch him ? I remember the creature 
 
 ■ — one night at Lady Adela's — hideously ugly — no chin 
 
 Oh, I say, Percy, I caU this just a ripping spread 1 " But 
 here there was a noise of new-comers outside ; and Miss 
 Georgie, not to be thought a greedy young person, qnickly 
 replaced the menu on the table, and assumed her most 
 correct deportment. 
 
 However, as it turned out, these were not the expected 
 guests ; the sounds gradually died away ; and then it was 
 that Percy Lestrange, looking up from his reverie, addressed 
 his sister — with some slight hesitation in his tone : 
 
 " I say, Georgie : I have been considering whetlier I 
 ought to tell you — as a warning beforehand — or whether 
 I should let you find it out for yourself. After all, it's of 
 no great consequence — you can treat him as a perfect 
 
 stranger-
 
 ago BRISEIS 
 
 She was not paying much heed. She had picked up the 
 menu again ; and her eyes seemed to be pleased with the 
 prospect — bouchees a la Montglas — faux-filet au cresson — 
 aubergines a la Proven§ale, and the like. 
 
 " Are you listening ? " her brother said. " It may 
 interest you, you know. "When I was down at the steam- 
 ship company's office this afternoon, I saw the completed 
 list of passengers, and among them — well, you would 
 make the discovery sooner or later — is the name of Jack 
 Cavan " 
 
 The menu fell from her fingers, fluttering down to the floor. 
 
 " You don't mean that I " she exclaimed — with dismay 
 in her voice. 
 
 " But I do. John Philip Cavan. There's not the least 
 doubt about it." 
 
 " Then I won't go ! " she said passionately. " I won't 
 sail in that ship. I won't submit to this abominable perse- 
 cution. It's done deliberately. It isn't a coincidence — not 
 a bit of it ! Of course he knew I was in America ; I was 
 perfectly aware of that ; but who could have imagined he 
 would be so mean as to plan this voyage 1 And it's all a 
 part of the same system. The last time I saw him in a 
 theatre, whenever there was anything insulting said about 
 women, in the piece, he would turn round and level his 
 opera-glass at me. Oh, the ingenuity of the fiend is 
 perfectly devilish ! — there's no other word for it " 
 
 " Well," said her brother, with a languid air, " if young 
 women will go playing games " 
 
 " It's never the men, of course I " she said, contemptuously. 
 " It's never the men who lead them on, and get them into 
 scrapes, of course not I And as for Jack Cavan, he de- 
 served all he got — he was paid out for his temper, and his 
 high-mightiness, and his fine airs : only, if he thinks he's 
 going to persecute me all the way across the Atlantic, he's 
 very much mistaken. I won't go in that ship, Percy. I 
 will forfeit my berth. When does the next steamer of the 
 same line sail ? — sm-ely they'll let me change " 
 
 " Oh, what's the good of going on like that 1 " her 
 brother said, fretfully. " You can't make a fool of yourself 
 before these people — refusing at the last moment. What 
 explanation could you offer ? "
 
 'SWEET NELLIE O'REE' 291 
 
 " You could have a relapse," she put in, adroitly. 
 
 "Don't talk rubbish. The fact is, you behaved very 
 badly — and now you are in a blue funk. It isn't Jack 
 Cavan that's pursuing you ; it's your conscience. And it 
 isn't Jack Cavan, it's your conscience that will haunt you 
 all the way across the Atlantic. How can Jack Cavan 
 harm you ? You'll have these haK-dozen people sui-- 
 rounding you from morning tiU night. By the way, I 
 suppose you told Sir Francis all about that old story ? " 
 
 " Tell Frank Gordon .? " said she, blushing a rosy-red. 
 "No, I did not. Of course not. Certainly not. There 
 was quite time enough for bygones to be bygones : quite 
 time enough — if only that spiteful fiend would let me 
 
 alone " But at this point the door was thrown open ; 
 
 and Miss Georgie's companions for the voyage did at last 
 make their appearance — Madame St. Roche, Miss IMadeline 
 Phayre, Miss Janie Phayre, ]\Iiss Romanes, Mr. Algeciras, 
 and Mr. S. F. Quentin of Chicago — all of them, as thej 
 came into the room, laughing and talking at once, so 
 excited were they over this little reunion and the larger 
 prospect ahead of them. 
 
 Indeed it was the ordinarily vivacious Georgie who alone 
 sat thoughtful and preoccupied — for spaces at least — dm'ing 
 this merry banquet : perhaps she was considering the 
 various devices to which she might resort in view of the 
 contingency that had so imexpectedly been sprung upon 
 her. At all events when they did at length drive away 
 down to the dock and get on board the steamer, she was 
 not much in evidence ; and when, finally, the great vessel 
 moved away out into the dark — a darkness that was all 
 athrob with lights, red, green, and electric-blue — it was 
 found that Miss Lestrange had disappeared altogether ; she 
 bad escaped from the usual foregathering in the saloon to 
 the solitude of her state-room ; and as it was surmised that 
 she might be busy opening her cabin-trunlcs, her friends 
 refrained from disturbing her. And thus it was that Miss 
 Georgie started upon her vo\age — with such a night's rest 
 as her not too tender conscience might allow her. 
 
 Next morning, when tho grey of the dawn was visibly 
 declared in the porthole, she reached up her hand to the 
 top of her berth and pressed a button ; and in response to 
 
 U 2
 
 292 BRISEIS 
 
 her summons the stewardess appeared — a tall, gaunt, sandy- 
 haired woman with, on occasion, an Irish twinkle in her 
 eyes. 
 
 " Oh, stewardess, I'm so ill ! " said the young lady, in a 
 panting and most piteous manner. *' I'm so dreadfully iU. 
 I didn't ring for you — out of consideration for the others ; 
 but I can bear this no longer. What must I take ? Tell 
 me what I must take. My brother said champagne, and 
 plenty of it, from the first thing in the morning ; but that 
 would be too awful, wouldn't it ? Then there's brandy, 
 but that's more horrid still, isn't it ? I'm sick enough 
 already ; brandy would only ' mak sikker.' That's a joke. 
 That's a Scotch joke. You may think I'm not very ill if I 
 can try to make fun of it ; but it's no laughing matter ; 
 and I knew all night I should be ill — I dreamt of it " 
 
 " Sure I'm very sorry. Miss," said the stewardess, gravely. 
 " What can I bring for you ? " 
 
 " Yes, that's just it," she moaned, " I don't know. It's 
 so horrid to be ill, and not to know what to do. And yet, 
 after all, the boat is not pitching so much " 
 
 " Oh, no, Miss ! " 
 
 " Nor rolling either " 
 
 "No, Miss, and for a very good reason too," said the 
 stewardess. " Sure we're at anchor ! " 
 
 " What ? " exclaimed the invalid, suddenly looking up. 
 
 " Yes indeed, Miss ; we're anchored in the bay. There's 
 a thick fog." 
 
 " And we haven't been to sea at all ? " 
 
 " Oh, no, Miss ; we're not near as far down as Sandy 
 Hook." 
 
 For a moment Miss Georgie — thinking back over her 
 apprehensions of the night — looked annoyed and angry ; 
 but there was really no use in quarrelling with the sardonic 
 stewardess ; so she merely said, with a certain petulance of 
 tone — 
 
 "Well, you can bring me a cup of tea and a biscuit. 
 I'm not going into the saloon for breakfast this morning." 
 
 Now for how many hours or days, and under what 
 pretexts, Miss Lestrange might have proposed to herself to 
 remain shut up in her cabin, it is impossible to say — 
 pcrlia])S all the voyage over ; but tlio girl-friends wbo were
 
 * SWEET NELLIE O'REE' 293 
 
 travelling with her would not permit anything of that kind ; 
 they came swarming into the small state-room, insisting 
 that she must get dressed and go on deck to see the strange 
 sight. And a strange sight it proved to be — this huge 
 living hive of a vessel cut off from all communication with 
 the rest of the world ; or rather there was a sort of com- 
 munication, of a dim and mysterious kind ; for through 
 the opaque, motionless white fog that encompassed them, 
 they could hear voices calling beneath, voices hailing from 
 certain small boats that had crept out from the shore. 
 Nothing could be seen of these visitants or their where- 
 abouts ; sometimes their remarks and replies sounded quite 
 close at hand, at other times they were hollow and remote ; 
 but whatever advice or information they were tendering, it 
 was universally conceded that imtil this dense fog lifted 
 there was not the slightest chance of the ship venturing to 
 crawl across the bar. 
 
 And meanwhile Miss Georgie, though she pretended to 
 be engrossed in gazing over the side of the vessel, and 
 listening, had been keeping her eyes alert, and that in a 
 tremulous and agitated mood. But no one came near. 
 Perhaps the person she dreaded to meet was having his 
 morning cigar in the smoking-room, or playing Nap with 
 some fellow-passengers. And at length the girls, tired of 
 looking into the mystic white profundity, proposed that 
 they should all adjourn to the music-room ; and to this 
 Miss Georgie eagerly assented ; she knew she would be safe 
 there, for none of the men-folk were likely to come to 
 listen to Chopin and Mendelssohn, in the wan light of day. 
 
 The hours passed until two bells struck, and then there 
 was an adjom-nment to the saloon for luncheon. And now 
 it was that the hapless Miss Georgie encountered her 
 enemy — ran full tilt against him at the foot of the com- 
 panion-way, for her anxious eyes had failed to warn her of 
 his approach. He was a young man of about six- or eight- 
 and-twenty, clean shaven, of sallow complexion, and with 
 a look about his firm and intelligent features as of one who 
 was not likely to suiTer nu;ch trifling at the hands of a 
 wicked and wilful young lady. As he drew near, he gave 
 no sign of recognition ; but he regarded her — with a cold, 
 and pitiless, and indifferent scrutiny ; while poor Georgie,
 
 294 BRISEIS 
 
 frightened out of her senses, and blushing furiously, could 
 only make a wild effort to appear as if she were continuing 
 a conversation with one of her companions — 
 
 " Oh, serge, did you say ? — blue serge ? — yes, I quite 
 agree with you — there's nothing so neat and serviceable — 
 I always use it myself, though my things shab so quickly on 
 board ship — and I'm too poor to bring trunkfulls of dresses 
 with me " 
 
 He was gone — and she drew a long breath to still her 
 galloping heart ; and then again when they had entered the 
 saloon and taken their places, she found to her immense 
 relief he was seated so far away from them that she had not 
 so much to fear from his relentless eyes. And fortunately 
 not one of her friends had noticed her confusion and 
 alarm. 
 
 Well, the fog lasted all that day, and all the next, and 
 the next — three days and nights the great steamer remained 
 in that strange white isolation ; and although certain critics 
 — mostly commercial travellers in the smoking-room — ■ 
 grumbled and alleged that the captain might have got out 
 if he had shown a little more daring, the bulk of the 
 passengers resigned themselves to their fate, and contrived 
 to pass the time somcliow by dint of various amusements. 
 The ladies who had first obtained possession of the piano 
 were practically allowed to retain a monopoly of it ; and 
 this boudoir-like apartment formed a snug and happy 
 retreat ; in especial was Miss Georgie glad to find safety 
 there — for reasons she did not choose to reveal. 
 
 But on the morning of the second day of the fog, Miss 
 Janie Phayre came along to Miss Lcstrange's cabin. 
 
 " I say, Georgina," she observed — for only so far had 
 their intimacy progressed — "do you know anything of this ? 
 I have just found it amongst my music ; and I am perfectly 
 certain it was not there last night. It must have been put 
 there this morning, sure. And yet it's not for me — these 
 are not my initials " 
 
 Miss Georgie was leisurely finishing her toilet ; but she 
 turned, and perceived that her visitor was holding in her 
 hand a sheet of paper, that had a couple of verses written 
 on it in pencil. When she took the proffered page she started 
 slightly, as if recognising the writing ; then as her glance
 
 'SWEET NELLIE O'REE' 295 
 
 followed down these lines, her vague surprise gave way to 
 a very different emotion : her cheeks and forehead were 
 flushed red, and her eyes were indignant and angry. For 
 this was the taunting rhyme that she found ' respectfully 
 dedicated to Miss G-. L. ' : 
 
 I gave you my life, what more could I do, 
 And you swore and you swore you would ever he true; 
 But summer is short ; the leaf falls from the tree ; 
 And women are changeable, Nellie O'Reet 
 
 And do I upbraid you? — oh no, and oh no; 
 The world is the world; and things icill go so. 
 And you need not recall, 'mid your laughter and glee. 
 That you broke a man's heart, sweet Nellie O'Beel 
 
 " Do I know what it means ? " she said, hotly. " Yes, 
 of course I do 1 The insolence of it 1 — the insolence 1 " 
 
 She tore the paper into four pieces, and crushed them 
 together and flung them wrathfully on the floor. 
 
 " Oh, what is it, dear Georgina I " her astonished visitor 
 cried, in instant curiosity. "Is there anything going on 
 on board ? — what is it ?— do tell ! " 
 
 " There's an impertinent man on board, that's about all ! " 
 said Miss Georgina, scornfully. *' Is that anything new ? 
 You'll meet with plenty of them before you're much older. 
 But I would rather not say any more." 
 
 She sate herself down on the couch, her eyes stiU burning ; 
 and as it was clear that she did not wish to give any expla- 
 nation, Miss Janie, after a brief farewell message, withdrew — 
 no doubt hoping to hear something f mlher of this mystery 
 later on. The moment she had left. Miss Lestrange picked 
 up the crumpled ball of paper. She unrolled it and pieced 
 together the fragments. She read down, carefully and 
 thoughtfully, the touching little ballad of ' Nelly O'Kee ' ; 
 and then for a short while she let it lie in her lap ; and 
 then she proceeded to tear the fragments into still smaller 
 fragments, and these she scattered out at the open port. 
 When finally she was ready to leave her cabin, there was a 
 look of very definite resolution on her face. 
 
 She did not go to the music-room, or anywhere near it. 
 She went straight up on deck, her eyes outstripping her in 
 their peremptory search. And she soon found what she 
 sought : Mr. Jack Cavan was taking his morning pro-
 
 29-6 ■ BRISEIS 
 
 menade, alone as it chanced, and muffled up in a capacious 
 ulster, for the mist was raw and cold. 
 
 Without a second of hesitation she went directly towards 
 him ; and he, perceiving that she did not mean to let him 
 pass, stopped short. 
 
 " How dared you put that thing among the music — how 
 dared you 1 " she demanded, with a flaming glance. 
 
 He turned very pale, even to the lips. But he did not 
 flinch. 
 
 " I wished you to see it," he said, deliberately. 
 
 " Yes, and the others 1 " she retorted. " And the others 
 too, of com'se 1 You wished them to see it too, no doubt 1 
 It was for them to draw their own conclusions from its — 
 from its — from its untruth I " She paused, to get her 
 breath — or perhaps not knowing how to express the vehe- 
 mence of her anger. And then she blurted out : " Well, 
 thank goodness I know some one who would not do such a 
 thing 1 " 
 
 This appeared to sting him; for after all he was but 
 mortal. 
 
 " The raw-boned Scotchman, I presume I " 
 
 " Frank Gordon is the handsomest boy that ever came to 
 London," said she, warmly. "And what's more, he has 
 the manliness to be forgiving. I say he has the manliness 
 to be generous and forgiving. He's the kind of man who 
 would forgive anything to a woman " 
 
 " That is a convenient kind," he remarked, with an air 
 of disdain. 
 
 " — if he cared enough for her," she went on. " Yes. 
 If he cared enough for her, he would show himself manly 
 and forgiving — not — not revengeful and insulting " 
 
 She stopped again. 
 
 " Have you anything further to say, Miss Lestrange ? " 
 he asked. 
 
 " No, I have not 1 " 
 
 " Then I will bid you good-morning," he said, respect- 
 fully enough, and he raised his hat, and walked away. 
 
 Miss Georgie went down below. At the foot of the 
 companion slie lingered for a second, to apply her hand- 
 kerchief to her eyes. Then bold and erect of head she 
 marched down the length of the saloon, and entered the
 
 'SWEET NELLIE O'REE' .297 
 
 music-room, where the usual little coterie was assembled 
 around the piano. 
 
 " Georgina, dear," cried the elder of the Phayre girls, 
 " what is all this about a mysterious piece of poetry ? " 
 
 " A piece of poetry ? — a piece of trash 1 " replied Miss 
 Georgie, with scorn. " I threw it out of the window. Oh, 
 there's no secret about it," she continued, loftily, as she 
 found that these curious maidens were regarding her. 
 " None. AYhy should there be ? No secret whatever. 
 There is a gentleman on board whom I once — once knew 
 a little ; and — and — he took this way of recaUing himself 
 to my recollection. Stupid, wasn't it ? He might just as 
 well have come frankly up and spoken, mightn't he ? I 
 call it a stupid trick. But you needn't speak of poetry — 
 poetry I — a silly little Irish song — of no consequence what- 
 ever. At least I suppose it was Irish — I forget — I threw it 
 out of the window. He's Irish himself, of course. That 
 explains his writing verses. There's not an Irishman born 
 that doesn't think he can write verses and throw a salmon- 
 fly better than anybody else in the world. Only, I wish 
 they wouldn't bother one with their siUy songs I " 
 
 So that was the end of the episode, for the present — 
 though one or two of Miss Georgie's companions may at 
 odd hours have ruminated over this obscure transaction, 
 and speculated. However, after the weary days and nights 
 of waiting, the great ship-full of folk at length discovered 
 that they were to be released from their chiU imprisonment ; 
 the welcome throb of the screw was felt once more ; they 
 began to creep down towards Sandy Hook, and in due 
 course of time got out into the open Atlantic. Not only 
 that, but they found themselves sailing into the most lovely 
 weather — calm seas and cloudless skies — blue above and a 
 shining blue all around ; and this delightful transformation 
 seemed to produce a corresponding change in the spirits of 
 everybody on board. "Whither had fled the grumblers ? 
 There was a universal kindliness and cheerfulness and 
 goodwill ; confidence in the captain was entirely restored ; 
 the passengers said nice things about each other — knowing 
 they would be repeated ; rope-quoits and shovel-board were 
 started ; and of course the music-room was quite abandoned, 
 for who could remain away from the charming promenades
 
 298 BRISEIS 
 
 on deck, in the bracing air and sunlight ? And perhaps 
 the general amiability had got into Miss Georgie's heart ; 
 or perhaps the having continually to avoid Jack Cavan on 
 these marchings up and down was beginning to prey on her 
 nerves ; at all events, finding him on one occasion alone, 
 she again went up to speak to him. As before, he was aU 
 attention — and as frigid as ice. 
 
 " Couldn't we," said she, valiantly, " couldn't we agree to 
 be friends, for the voyage over at least ? " 
 
 He regarded her for a moment, and said quite gravely — 
 
 " Yes, if yon wish it." 
 
 "Oh, if that is the way," said she, proudly, " — no, 
 thanks I " And at once and haughtily she returned to her 
 friends. 
 
 There came a night : a full moon was sailing through 
 the tranquil heavens, and on the slumbering and slowly- 
 moving waters there lay a pathway of silver, widening 
 here and narrowing there, until it reached the immeasur- 
 able and unknown horizon. It was late, and yet a number of 
 people had preferred this magical white scene to the golden 
 comfort of the saloon ; and Madame St. Roche was a 
 lenient chaperon ; she and her little party were all on deck, 
 huddled cosily together, chatting the one to the other, or 
 gazing contemplatively out on the entrancing beauty of 
 sea and sky. And now it was that there stole into the 
 silence — for the continuous lapping of the waves and the 
 familiar throb of the engines formed almost a silence — 
 there stole into the silence a soupd so sweet, so clear, so 
 distant that it seemed to come from nowhere at all, it 
 seemed rather like the echo of a flute heard in some remote 
 and mystic fairyland that one has visited in a half -forgotten 
 dream. 
 
 " Oh, isn't it too beautiful ! " murmured one of the girls. 
 
 " It's a cornet," said one of the gentlemen : " but where 
 the dickens is the player ? — is he some Ariel in the rigging, 
 or flying in the wake of the boat ? " 
 
 " That darling Purser — he has planned this for us," 
 said another of the girls. 
 
 " Hush — hush 1 " said the most sensible of the group. 
 
 And well indeed tliey might listen to this soft and silver- 
 toned strain that had for its accompaniment the half-heard
 
 'SWEET NELLIE O'REE' 299 
 
 whisper and rush of the moonlit waves. It was an Irish 
 air — it was ' Farewell, but if ever you welcome the hour ' 
 — and it was exquisitely played : no wonder they listened. 
 But meanwhile something had happened to Georgie Le- 
 strange. She was seated next Madame St. Roche ; and 
 the moment the clear notes of the cornet began to steal 
 through the witchery of the night, the elder lady felt the 
 gui grasp her arm. It was an involuntary action, probably ; 
 anyhow the hand remained there, fixed and trembling ; 
 and the figure of the girl was trembling too. Nay, as 
 Madame f mtively perceived, tears were running down her 
 cheeks ; and as her agitation grew greater and greater, it 
 was clear she could stay here no longer. She tried to 
 slink away unobserved — with uncertain gait and head bent 
 down. Not a word was said by any of her companions — 
 perhaps in the dusk they had not noticed ; but Madame 
 rose and swiftly and discreetly followed. 
 
 She tapped at the door of the cabin, and got no answer ; 
 but she heard a sound as of wild sobbing ; and so she made 
 bold to enter. She found the unhappy girl in a perfect 
 passion of crying ; she lay at full length on the couch, her 
 face downward ; and in the agony of her grief her hands 
 were clenched into the cushion, while her whole frame 
 quivered and shook. 
 
 " Georgina, dear I " 
 
 " Oh, my God, it's too cruel — it's too cruel I " she 
 moaned, in the intervals of her frantic sobbing. " I can- 
 not bear it — I cannot suffer this torture any more — he 
 wants to break my heart — and I think he has done that 
 now. Ah, Madame St. Roche, you do not know — you do 
 not know — that was the air he used to play for me when 
 we were at Glengariflf — it was his last good-night to me — 
 every night when I had gone into the hotel — and he was 
 out in the bay — and then when my people wouldn't let 
 him come to see me — that was at Wicklow — after the 
 quarrel — he used to play those Irish airs — and they were a 
 message from him to me — oh, it's too cruel ! — it's too 
 cruel I — but — but he has had his revenge sure enough — 
 oh, yes, — sure enough — for I will never reach Queenstown 
 alive " 
 
 " Merciful Heaven, what do you say 1 " cried Madame,
 
 300 BRISEIS 
 
 and she drew in a chair to the couch, and released one of 
 the girl's hands and held it. 
 
 " No, I will not 1 " she sobbed again. " I will not. I 
 have made up my mind. Long before we get to Queens- 
 town — there will be an end — and he will have his revenge 
 
 sure enough " But here she burst into another flood 
 
 of tears that for a time completely stopped all utterance. 
 
 " My child, you are mad I " exclaimed Madame. " I see 
 all the situation of affairs — it is not revenge — it is to win 
 you back to him that he plays the beautiful air — it is to 
 recall tender scenes " 
 
 " It is not — it is not ! " she said, passionately. " It is 
 to taunt me — to reproach me — to accuse me : it is for 
 revenge. And — and— Madame — what more revenge can 
 he want ? The moment I set eyes on him — on board this 
 ship — I knew that I had thrown my life away. You see — ■ 
 you see — I have been absent from England for a time — • 
 and able to look at things — and then — then when I saw 
 him — all the old time came back — even though I was mad- 
 angry with him — or he with me — I don't care which — • 
 and then — then he goes and plays this air — knowing it 
 would just cut my heart in two " 
 
 " Yes, yes, child," said Madame ; " and he made a very 
 effective appeal to you, as any one can see ; and it will all 
 come right " 
 
 " Come right ? " she repeated, and she struggled upwards 
 from her recumbent position, and sat there dejected and 
 hopeless, making some effort to get the tears away from her 
 cheeks and eyes. " Come right ? — yes— when I throw my- 
 self overboard — then it will come right — and he will have 
 his revenge at last. That will be the end — and there will 
 be no need — of any more reproaches " 
 
 And so they continued the argument, the one comforting, 
 the other despairing ; until finally Madame persuaded her 
 young charge to go to bed, to see if the night might not 
 bring rest to her suffering soul. 
 
 Next morning Miss Georgie did not make her usual 
 appearance on deck, nor was she present at luncheon. In 
 the afternoon, a gentleman, hitherto unknown to her, came 
 np to Madame St. Roche, and said he hoped that Miss 
 L^strange was not unwell.
 
 'SWEET NELLIE O'REE' 301 
 
 " She is rather ailing to-day," was the reply. 
 
 " Will you be so kind as to tell her that I am exceedingly 
 sorry to hear it ? " said he, " My name is Cavan." 
 
 Madame (with rapid thoughts of her own) immediately 
 took the message below. Miss Georgie was lying on the 
 couch in her state-room, partly dressed, with plenty of rugs 
 thrown over her ; and very listless and languid she looked 
 after the long night's sleepless suffering. However, when 
 she heard what Madame had to tell, she roused herself 
 somewhat. 
 
 " But how did he say it, Madame ? — that is the point. 
 Formally, of course. A mere formal message, that is all. 
 An ordinary piece of politeness " 
 
 " Ah, no, not at all," said Madame ; " it was most friendly 
 and sincere. My child, I fear you have been hard towards 
 that young man." 
 
 " Hard ? " the poor invalid repeated bitterly. " Hard ? 
 You may think so — but you don't know him, I " 
 
 After a little while she said — 
 
 "Madame St. Roche, do you ever go up the staircase 
 leading from the fore-saloon ? — there is an archway at the 
 head of it where there are seats for two or three — would 
 you mind sending the stewardess to see if that corner is 
 vacant ? — and if it is she might ask Mr. Quentin or Mr. 
 Algeciras, either of them, to come down and lend me an 
 arm : I could be ready in a few minutes, and it would be 
 more interesting than lying here." 
 
 All which was duly done ; and Miss Georgie found her- 
 self ensconced in this sheltered spot, whence she could look 
 out on the deck and the rigging if she was so disposed. 
 But she was not yet satisfied. 
 
 " Mr. Quentin," she said to her escort, " do you know a 
 Mr. Cavan who is on board ? " 
 
 " By sight only." 
 
 " I wish you would go and tell him, please, that I want 
 to see him." 
 
 A few moments brought Jack Cavan to her side, while 
 the sensible Quentin, remembering a familiar adage, made 
 some sort of excuse and disappeared. 
 
 " Sit down. Jack," said she, in a softened and troubled 
 voice, " I want to speak to you."
 
 302 BRISEIS 
 
 Obediently he took his place by her, and these two were 
 now the only occupants of this shadowed recess, with but 
 little fear of interruption. 
 
 "Jack, I want to ask for your forgiveness," she said, 
 •' and if you refuse, you'll be sorry some day, and perhaps 
 sooner than you think. Haven't you had enough of 
 revenge ? I know now that I have made a wreck of my 
 life — isn't that enough revenge for you ? " 
 
 " I don't want revenge," said he, bluntly. " I want you, 
 Georgie." 
 
 " Ah, but that's all past and gone," she answered him, in 
 a sad and resigned fashion. " When you've made your bed 
 you must lie on it. That's all over now. You shouldn't 
 have quarrelled." 
 
 " It was you who quarrelled — you and your people " 
 
 " Ah, well, you need not bring all that back again," she 
 said, with a bit of a sigh. " It's all over and done with 
 now. But oh. Jack, Jack, what made you play that song 
 of Moore's last night ? — It recalled all the old times — the 
 old times — the old times " 
 
 She began to cry a little ; but presently she dried her 
 eyes again. 
 
 " If you had a scrap of courage, Georgie," said he, " we 
 might easily bring back those old times to both of us." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " she said, suddenly looking up : 
 then her eyes fell. " Oh, yes, I know. I know what you 
 mean. But I couldn't. Oh, I couldn't— I couldn't 1 He's 
 such a dear fellow — and it would be so dishonourable " 
 
 " It would not be dishonourable at all," he said boldly. 
 " It would be quite the reverse. I suspected you hadn't 
 forgotten the old times, Georgie — oh, didn't I know it 
 quite well ! And if I have vexed you and angered you, 
 then you must forgive me : it's you that must forgive. 
 And you needn't talk about anything dishonourable : after 
 what you have just said, it's the only honourable thing you 
 can do, by him, and by me, and by yourself " 
 
 " Oh, Jack, it's just dreadful to say it — so mean and 
 contemptible — I feel so thoroughly mean and contemptible 
 — but — but — do you think he would let me oil ? " 
 
 " I take it, he is a gentleman ! " her companion exclaimed. 
 " He wouldn't force a girl into marrying him that doesn't
 
 'SWEET NELLIE O'REE' 303 
 
 want to marry him. Besides, when he hears the whole 
 story, he will see that I have the prior claim. I have the 
 first claim on you " 
 
 " Oh, Jack, I couldn't do it 1 " she still protested. " I 
 couldn't do it. I couldn't face him. Think of his coming 
 to meet me at Liverpool — how could I face him ? He's so 
 frank and straightforward himself — and I should feel so 
 deceitful and sneakish and despicable " 
 
 " Nothing of the sort 1 " he maintained, vehemently, " I 
 tell you it's the straight thing to do. Georgie," he went 
 on, in a more insidious manner, " will you leave it all to 
 me ? Will you let me arrange it ? Will you leave it all 
 in my hands ? " 
 
 " Y — yes, Jack — if you think you can " 
 
 What now occurred took place in a recess, as before 
 described, at the top of the fore-saloon companion, which 
 was rarely used at this time of the day, while any passer-by 
 going along the deck would hardly think of peering into 
 this obscure retreat. So that there was no tale to tell 
 throughout the ship — or to be set down here. When 
 Miss Georgie next spoke it was in a soft and purring and 
 happy fashion — and singularly blithe seemed this poor 
 invalid wrapped up in the fur cloak Lady Adela had 
 given her. 
 
 " You see, Jack, it was this way — now I'll tell you 
 honestly how it all happened in the Highlands — for I've as 
 good a right as any one to make excuses, haven't I ? — and 
 you wouldn't condemn me unheard, would you ? It was 
 hke this, you see — you see, it was like this — well, perhaps 
 it's not so easy to explain " 
 
 " Don't explain anything, Georgie," said he, with a 
 certain grimness. " I know your ways." 
 
 " Ah, now you want to quarrel again I " she retorted 
 instantly. " And you don't appear to care a straw whether 
 I come back to you with a clear and white conscience — as I 
 could prove to you if you'd only listen. Now, Jack, do 
 Listen 1 It was like this, you see. He and I were the 
 youngest of the house-party up at Glen Skcan Castle, you 
 know ; and naturally we chummed ; and he was awfully 
 nice, and kind, and forgiving — not Hke some people. And 
 of com'se there was a little skylarking ; only he was as bad
 
 304 BRISEIS 
 
 as I was — I declare to you he was as bad as I was ; he used 
 to take me away for long excursions with him ; and he 
 would dry my back hair when it got wet with the rain, and 
 pin it up again ; or he would bathe my wrists with eau-de- 
 Cologne when they were bitten with the midges ; and Jie 
 made me drink out of the same glass with him — like a 
 couple of children — like Paul and Virginia ; and he cut off 
 some of my hair to make salmon-flies with. And tricks of 
 that kind. You see how honest I am. Any other girl 
 would conceal all that nonsense. And then it got rather 
 more serious — not really serious, you know, but there was 
 a kind of appearance of seriousness about it, don't you 
 understand — and my head got all bewildered, what with 
 the moorlands, and the mists, and the red deer, and the 
 wild nights among the hills — and — and, in short, we 
 blundered into an engagement. "What made me do it, I 
 cannot imagine. But I thought you were a brute — in fact, 
 I knew it — and I know it now ; and he is just the nicest 
 boy that ever was born, and that's what he is. You won't 
 mind my saying that, will you ? You wouldn't be scudgy 
 and mean and jealous, seeing what has happened ? And 
 he was such a dear boy, and so good-natured, and hand- 
 some, and ready for any mad mischief that you might put 
 into his head — I mean, that might come into his head. 
 And then. Jack, you must remember this : I have never 
 thought much of myself, or put any value on myself ; but 
 I might have been Lady Gordon of Grantly, and the 
 daughter-in-law of a Princess as well. Only, Jack — only — • 
 I will confess it — it would have been with a broken heart. 
 I knew that the moment I set eyes on you on board this 
 ship. Then I knew what I had done. And I was in such 
 despair that I told Madame St. Roche I would throw myself 
 into the sea before ever we should reach Queenstown. 
 Perhaps I didn't quite mean it, but I was pretty miserable 
 all the same " 
 
 "Georgie," he said, interrupting her for a moment, and 
 speaking rather gravely, " don't make any mistake : I 
 understand well enough that you are giving up a good 
 deal." 
 
 "Ah, but I've got you. Jack 1 — oh, darling Jack, I've got 
 you I And wliat would anything else be to me, if I had to
 
 'SWEET NELLIE O'REE' 305 
 
 go through life with a broken heart ? " She paused for a 
 second, and then resumed, in a somewhat altered key : " At 
 the same time, Jack, I shouldn't like Frank Gordon to 
 think that I had thrown myself away, as they caU it. I 
 don't want him to consider me a sentimental idiot. There 
 wasn't much of that kind of nonsense betwixt him and me ; 
 and I shouldn't like to have him laugh at me now. I'm 
 not moonstruck, am I ? I'm not a lunatic ? — though it is 
 a\Tfully nice to be sitting close and snug beside you. Jack. 
 And this is what I meant to say — though it's rather horrid 
 — since you are going to explain matters to him, if you 
 could bring in some little mention of Kilcrana Abbey — then 
 — then he might understand I wasn't a stage-struck school- 
 girl. Of course it's horrid to talk of such things. I know 
 it's horrid. And I do honestly believe. Jack, that if you 
 had been a poor man, I could have sacrificed everything for 
 your sake — but it's better as it is, I dare say. And oh, 
 dear Jack, if you should really think there's been the least 
 bit of sacrifice — the least tiny little bit of a sacrifice — I'm 
 sure you'll remember it to me, and be kind to me, and pet 
 me — for you know well enough you've got a brute of a 
 temper " 
 
 It was at this moment — the afternoon having drawn to 
 dusk — that the electric lights flashed into existence all 
 around them. She sprang to her feet, very nimbly for an 
 invalid. 
 
 " My gracious, what will Madame think of me ! Jack, 
 you must come and be introduced to my friends, some time 
 before dinner. Can you tell Ues ? " 
 
 " I can try." 
 
 " How many could you muster, do you think ? " 
 
 " About fifteen thousand." 
 
 " It'U take about all that to explain the situation to these 
 people. So go away and think. I will say nothing till I 
 hear from you. Good-bye ! " 
 
 " Au revoir 1 " said he ; and their parting was most dis- 
 creet, for they were afraid of that blue-white electric glare. 
 
 And again that night the moon shone gloriously, this 
 time ridiug through long and fleecy streaks of cloud ; and 
 Iiladame St. Roche proved to be the most sympathetic of 
 chaperons ; and Jack Cavan had discovered another secluded 
 
 X
 
 3o5 BRISEIS 
 
 nook that the constructor of the vessel would seem to have 
 specially designed for a pair of happy lovers. They were 
 sitting together, these two ; and they had a great deal to 
 say to each other, serious or the reverse of serious, with 
 regard to the future ; but of a sudden Miss Georgie broke 
 in with a low, smothered croon of delight — 
 
 " Oh, Jack, kiss me again, and tell me it's all true 1 " 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 * SEEMED ATHENS AS A PARADISE.' 
 
 Athens lay under snow — snow trampled and brownish- 
 yellow in the main thoroughfares, but a wonder and a 
 splendour far up among the lonely pillars of the Acropolis, 
 and still fm'ther away, along the shoulders of Hymettns, a 
 solid white against the deep pellucid blue. Down here in 
 the city, the air was still, and clear, and bitterly cold ; the 
 passers-by looked miserable, and the scraggy little horses 
 shivered ; while the occasional wearer of a fustanella 
 appeared to be conscious that the garment was entirely out 
 of keeping with this kind of climate. But in the salle-a- 
 mangcr of the Hotel of the Tower of the Winds, in the 
 Palace S:|uare, there was another tale to tell ; the long and 
 lofty apartment had been well warmed by the stoves ; and 
 indeed the two travellers who had just taken their places at 
 the central tal)le found themselves in comfortable case ; for 
 at this hour there were no other guests, the assiduous waiter 
 was displaying before them a most excellent lunch, while 
 the proprietor himself was opening for them a bottle of 
 Santorin. 
 
 "Well, Aunt Jean, you've done me many a good turn," 
 said the younger of the two — who seemed restless and 
 preoccupied, and would hardly look at the food set before 
 iiim — " but never one like this : the long railway journey — 
 in midwinter " 
 
 " Toots, toots, laddie," said Jean Gordon, with her usual 
 good-humour — and she at least paid sufficient attention to 
 the cutlets and macaroni — " it's been nothing but a bit
 
 'SEEMED ATHENS AS A PARADISE' 307 
 
 jaunt 1 And it's not for Aberdeenshire folk to complain of 
 a whaff of snow " 
 
 " There was no one else I could ask for advice or help," 
 he went on. " You are so wise, and shrewd, and kindly ; 
 and then you have her confidence already ; she won't be 
 frightened when she sees you — if you can get to see her. 
 But the whole situation is so desperately difficult. You 
 know how proud she is — proud and sensitive. And if I had 
 come away out here by myself, and gone direct to her, her 
 whole nature would have been up in revolt against the 
 assumption — the assumption — well, that she was to be had 
 for the asking. She would have shut herself up still more 
 completely " 
 
 " The foolish creature," put in Aunt Jean, " to run away 
 and hide herseK in this fashion 1 " 
 
 " As for that," said he, " I can easily understand her 
 desire to get away from England : she had not been too 
 well treated there ; and I suppose she thought she would 
 seek a refuge with the people amongst whom she had been 
 brought up. And I dare say she wanted to leave every- 
 thing behind her, and cut off all communication with what 
 was bygone. But if there was any intention to keep her 
 whereabouts a secret, then my blessings on that pudding- 
 faced Olga Elliott for blurting it out 1 Of com'se it was 
 spite that prompted her. ' A maid-servant 1 ' says she. 
 ' Gone to be a maid-servant in an asyliun for orphan 
 girls in Athens ! ' And then I knew in a moment ! 
 I knew in a moment ! Why, dozens of times I had 
 heard Briseis talk of that institution, and of the Patronne 
 being an old friend of hers, and of the extraordinary 
 beauty of many of the yomig girls there. That was how 
 it first came about — that was how she first spoke of it : 
 she was telling me that any one arriving in Athens as a 
 stranger, and expecting to see the creations of Phidias or 
 Praxiteles walking along Hermes Street, would be awfully 
 disappointed with the look of the people — the women in 
 especial ; but on the other hand, she said, many of the 
 young girls were just divinely beautiful creatures ; and then 
 she told me all about this institution, and about licr often 
 going up at the play-hour to have a romp with the grave- 
 eyed small goddesses. ' Oh,' says I to myself, the moment 
 
 X 2
 
 3o8 BRISEIS 
 
 Olga Elliott blundered out with the truth, ' we're all right 
 now — if only Aunt Jean will come along and be the wise 
 counsellor.' But the fearful long railway journey — and the 
 crossing from Brindisi to Patras in midwinter " 
 
 " Get on with your lunch, man I " said Aunt Jean. 
 " And I wish you'd see if they cannot get some seltzer-water 
 with just a bit of a sparkle in it : this is as dead as last 
 Hallowe'en." 
 
 *' Here, gargon 1 " he boldly called to the waiter. " ^a 
 ne marche pas — cherchez une bouteille qui marche 1 " 
 
 " Ye see, Frankie, lad, I'm rather fidgeting to get 
 through," said Miss Jean, in an undertone, " and I'll teU 
 you the reason, though maybe I shouldn't. Do you re- 
 member a young officer coming up to speak to me in the 
 railway station at Brindisi ? " 
 
 " Yes, I do." 
 
 ""Well, that was an aide-de-camp of Prince George's. 
 And he had come all the way across from Monteveltro on a 
 special mission ; and while you were looking after the 
 luggage he explained the matter to me, and gave me a small 
 box addressed to you, and a letter from your mother 
 addressed to a certain young lady ; and in the event of 
 everything going right, I was to dehver both. But bless 
 ye, laddie, how can I sit still and eat in peace while that 
 casket is in my dressing-bag— upstairs in my room — in a 
 foreign hotel ? — I'm just on tenterhooks till I get it handed 
 ever. The young brigand with the great moustache and 
 the glaring eyes warned me of its value " 
 
 " It's a pity you shouldn't have your luncheon in com- 
 fort. Aunt Jean," said he, humanely. *' Shall I go and fetch 
 down your bag, and you can have it put on a chair, and 
 keep it under your own eyes all the time- 
 
 (( i 
 
 The very thing I " said Aunt Jean. " Away ye go. 
 Number eight is my room, and the bag is up at the 
 window." 
 
 In due course the dressing-bag was brought down and 
 placed on the chair at her side ; but still Miss Jean was not 
 satisfied ; perhaps some natural feminine curiosity had to 
 be taken into account. 
 
 " What I can well understand," she said, " is that your 
 mother and the Prince might wish to send the young lady
 
 'SEEMED ATHENS AS A PARADISE' 309 
 
 a little present, as a kind of congratulation on her engage- 
 ment — if engagement there is to be ; but what I cannot 
 understand is why, seeing they are in Vienna, they should 
 not send it from there — Vienna, the very place for such 
 things ! But to put all this trouble on Prince George, and 
 have that moustachioed brigand come across from Monte- 
 veltro, at this time of year, when the mountains are usually 
 snowed up — Frank," she said on a sudden impulse, " I'm 
 going to give ye the casket now : I'm going to take it for 
 granted that all will be well " 
 
 " Aunt Jean," he remonstrated, almost despairingly, " if 
 you take anything for granted you will ruin everything I 
 You don't seem to know with whom you have to deal. 
 Briseis Yalieri may look very serene in manner and self- 
 possessed, but she's as easily startled as a fawn, and sensitive 
 beyond expression. I tell you, you must assume nothing ! 
 We are travelling for pleasure — we came here by accident — 
 oh, any excuse you like ! — but for goodness' sake don't 
 make it appear as though you had come right away from 
 England to capture her and carry her off. If you knew 
 how proud she is — and — and — apprehensive " 
 
 " Leave her to me, laddie," said the shrewd Miss Jean ; 
 and then, not to be balked of her httle gratification, she 
 unlocked her dressing-bag, and got hold of the casket, 
 and handed it over. "Take off the wrappers, and let 
 me see." 
 
 It was worth inspection : even the cover of it — the lid of 
 the casket — with its dark-gi'een transparent enamel orna- 
 mented with filigree-work of faded gold, was a piece of 
 exquisite art ; but when he took out the enclosed treasure 
 — a bracelet it was, of Byzantine design, of elaborate and 
 intricate craftsmanship, and all encrusted with uncut 
 precious stones — Jean Gordon's covetous eyes were staring. 
 
 " I'll wager that's from the family jewels ! " she exclaimed. 
 " And that's why it came over from Monteveltro. Frank, 
 lad," she added, significantly, " your mother didn't persuade 
 tlae Prince to send you anything of that kind when she 
 heard of your first engagement. There was not so much 
 approval then," 
 
 " Poor Georgie ! " said he, half-laughing. " She was 
 about dead with terror when she landed at Liverpool — and
 
 3IO B RISE IS 
 
 just wild with gratitude when she found I wasn't going to 
 cut her throat for jilting me." 
 
 " Now will ye sit down in quiet and let a body finish her 
 luncheon decently," said Miss Jean ; and he did as he was 
 bid ; whereupon she proceeded with the pastry, and fruit, 
 and sips of Santorin ; but she kept on talking all the same. 
 " I'm not to assimie anything ? Very well. But I know 
 what your mother has in her mind — that you should take 
 your bride to Vienna, and spend the remainder of the 
 ■«inter there with them, before they go back to the Princi- 
 pality. And a sensible plan too. Dee-side is bleak at the 
 beginning of the year. Better wait till the primroses and 
 the hyacinths come out in the woods : that's the time to 
 show the young wife her new home. And ye'U not find me 
 there. I declare to you ye'll not find me there " 
 
 "We'll see about that, Aunt Jean," said he — himself 
 trapped into an assumption. 
 
 " Xa, na ; I've been long enough prisoned up in that 
 tower, and never a knight of them coming prancing on his 
 steed, and blowing his bugle, to release me. I'll be off to 
 Edinijurgh. There's the Leslies, and the Kirkpatricks, and 
 the Ramsays — plenty of company ; and although they used 
 to say ' dinna misca' a Gordon in the raws of Strathbogie,' 
 there will be quite enough consideration for a Gordon of 
 Grantly a wee bit farther south than Strathbogie. And 
 then I'll be seeing you from time to time, Frankie, to 
 notice if marriage has made any change. Sometimes it does, 
 mind. I'm sure you've heard of that roystering, blustering, 
 blethering idiot, Maceachran — the savagest pulpit-thiunper 
 in the north of Scotland — he's like Fin Mac Cowle, 
 
 ' That dang the devil, and gart him yowle ' * 
 
 — and he keeps his wife, and his family, and his elders, and 
 his congregation just in trembling subjection to his thrawn 
 temper and his down-drawn mouth. Dear me, I remember 
 him when he first came to Sanchory — a pale, whitey-faced 
 divinity-student, as gentle as a pet-lamb, and as shy as a 
 Bchool-miss " 
 
 •That beat the devil, and made him howl
 
 * SEEMED ATHENS AS A PARADISE' 311 
 
 " And has that fearful change been produced by 
 marriage ? " her nephew asked of her. 
 
 " No ; I rather think it's been original sin developing," 
 said Aunt Jean, thoughtfully. Then of a sudden she 
 looked up. " And now, Frankie, before I set out, give me 
 complete instructions." 
 
 "Not I," he answered her. "I can trust you, Aunt 
 Jean. You always say and do just the right thing at the 
 right moment " 
 
 " Very well, then : the one point settled is that if I can 
 find the runaway, I am to ask her to dine with us this 
 evening. And we are merely two distinguished travellers, 
 passing through Athens — is that the proposition ? " 
 
 " I leave it all to you, Aunt Jean," he said, nervously 
 and anxiously, 
 
 " Frankie, lad, your simulations won't be the least bit 
 of good. She'll suspect something, the instant she sees 
 me " 
 
 " I leave it aU to you, Aunt Jean," he maintained, 
 doggedly. 
 
 " And while I am racing and chasing about this unknown 
 town, what are you going to do with yourself ? " 
 
 " Oh, I don't know," he said, absently, " I suppose I 
 may as well climb away up to the top of the Acropolis, to 
 have a general look round. Perhaps I may get a glimpse 
 of the island of Aegina — that was Briseis's home, you 
 know, when she was quite a young girl." 
 
 "Well, I suppose the sooner I'm off the better," said 
 ;Miss Jean, rising from her chair. " And while I'm getting 
 ready you ought to go and lock up that precious casket in 
 your portmanteau : I'm glad it's out of my charge." 
 
 A short time thereafter a carriage was drawn up in front 
 of the hotel, and Frank Gordon was pacing to and fro at 
 the foot of the staircase, waiting for Miss Jean to come 
 down. When she did appear, she was buttoning a pair cf 
 furred gloves. 
 
 " ' Oh little did my mither think,' " 
 
 she said, as she drew near, 
 
 "'That day she cradled me, 
 What lands I was to travel ower*
 
 312 BR/JbEJS 
 
 — a id the idea of my adventuring into this strange place — 
 all by myself — what is to become of me ? " 
 
 " Oh, you'll be all right : you've got a good French 
 tongue in your head, Aunt Jean," he said, encouragingly. 
 " Every one knows that. With all her experience of 
 Courts, the Mater doesn't speak French near as well as you 
 do, and with such a perfect accent " 
 
 " It's you that are the fine judge, Frankie ! " she said, 
 mocking at him ; and then she stepped across the swept 
 pavement, and took her place in the carriage, and nodded 
 good-bye to him, and was driven off. 
 
 And as they went swiftly and noiselessly through the 
 muffled streets, Jean Gordon had very little attention to 
 bestow on what she was passing. She knew that this was 
 a much more delicate and difficult mission than she had 
 been willing to confess ; and it was not on every one's 
 behalf she would have undertaken it ; but there was little 
 she would not do for her beloved nephew Frank. In any 
 case, she had now little time for plans and preparations ; 
 the distance was not great ; and just as she had made up 
 her mind that she must trust mainly to luck, the carriage 
 was pulled up in front of the institution she was in quest 
 of- — a large building with something of architectural 
 pretensions, situated in a quiet and rather outlying part of 
 the city. 
 
 She let herself down from the vehicle, and stepped across 
 the pavement to the gate ; and there she stood stock-still, 
 for through the railings she beheld a scene that had a sudden 
 and unexpected interest for her. The entrance to the 
 institution was not in front, but at the side, and some way 
 along ; and around this sheltered door-way, and in a little 
 bit of a verandah adjoining, were scattered groups of young 
 girls — from seven to fourteen or fifteen their ages might be 
 — who were engaged, rather timidly and in a kind of 
 nnwonted fashion, in picking up handfuls of snow and 
 flinging them, with little cries of exultation, at a solitary 
 figure out in the open. Something seemed to catch in 
 Jean Gordon's throat. For the figure was that of a young 
 woman, tall, and slim, and of a wonderful, agile grace ; and 
 from among the stunted and leafless trees in the strip of 
 garden she also was picking up handfuls of snow and
 
 'SEEMED ATHENS AS A PARADISE' 313 
 
 hurling them back at her enemies — one against thirty was 
 the unequal contest ; and she was laughing merrily — so 
 merrily that every now and again, through her parted lips, 
 the sunshine gleamed on her perfect teeth. Moreover, the 
 reflected light from the snow had robbed her face of its 
 natural shadows, so that there was a kind of glorification 
 there ; and the brisk exercise had brought a rose-leaf tinge to 
 the pale oUve of her cheek ; and her eyes, large, and dark, 
 and lustrous, were laughing as well as her laughing lips. 
 
 " Bless me," said Aunt Jean to herself, " there's no man 
 alive could withstand the witchery of that creature ! " 
 
 But when Briseis chanced to notice the newcomer, her 
 expression instantly changed — not to fear, but to simple 
 amazement. She advanced quickly to meet her. 
 
 "Miss Gordon — in Athens — and all alone 1 " she ex- 
 claimed. And then her heart seemed to sink within her. 
 " You — you do not bring ill news ? " 
 
 " Not at all — not at all ! " said Miss Jean, as she took 
 the girl in her arms and kissed her affectionately on both 
 cheeks. " And I'm not alone : Frank is with me " 
 
 Inadvertently and almost imperceptibly Briseis appeared 
 to draw back a little bit. 
 
 " And — and who else ? " she asked. 
 
 " Why, no one 1 We are just by our two selves. And 
 of coiu-se we don't know a soul in the place ; and we 
 thought it would be awfully kind of you if you would come 
 and spend the evening with us, at the hotel — the Hotel of 
 the Tower of the AVinds " 
 
 " All by yourselves 1 " the girl repeated, in great sur- 
 prise, and yet apparently well pleased. " But come in — 
 come in — you must let me introduce you to my good 
 friend the Patronne, and she will let me off for the rest of 
 the day ; and I will be your cicerone. I must show you 
 the Stadion — that will interest you, you know, because of 
 
 the revival of the Olympic Games " And therewith 
 
 she called aloud a few words, in a tongue that Miss Jean 
 could make nothing of, and straightway the small Greek 
 maidens began to troop into the house, but not before Aunt 
 Jean had assured herself that what she had heard of the 
 exceeding comeliness of many of these youthful daughters 
 of Attica had in no wise been exaggerated.
 
 314 BRISEIS 
 
 When they went into the apotheke they found that the 
 Patronne was engaged with two Italian ladies who were 
 examining the sewn-work and embroideries wrought by the 
 elder giiis in the institution ; accordingly they had to 
 wait ; but when all the purchases had been made, and the 
 visitors had departed, Briseis experienced no difficulty in 
 obtaining her freedom — though with kindly warnings 
 against standing about and getting her feet wet. So 
 that in a brief while she was seated in Aunt Jean's carriage, 
 and presently these two were on their way towards the 
 time-worn Stadion. 
 
 " Isn't it rather a shame," said Miss Jean, tentatively, 
 " that that poor lad should be left by himself, while I am 
 getting all the benefit of your instruction ? " 
 
 " We will call for him at the hotel if you wish it," said 
 Briseis, promptly. 
 
 " Well, he isn't there, just at present. He said he would 
 wander away up to the Acropolis, to have a look round " 
 
 '' The Acropolis ? Oh, then, he is brave indeed I For I 
 fear the steps of the Propylaea will be very slippery with 
 the half -melted snow ; and on the top there are snow- 
 drifts among the broken pillars — one might meet with an 
 accident " 
 
 " Couldn't we go up and find him there ? " suggested 
 Miss Jean, who was not much afraid of any such twopenny- 
 halfpenny snow-drift as the town of Athens was hkely to 
 produce. " He would be so glad to see you " 
 
 " Oh, very well, then," said Briseis, good-naturedly, and 
 she addressed a word or two, again in that mysterious 
 tongue, to the driver. " You will have a glimpse of the 
 Stadion in passing, and we will go right on to the 
 Acropolis." 
 
 And now it was that Jean Gordon, despite of all her 
 nerve, knew that her heart was in her mouth ; and little 
 heed did she pay to the Stadion, nor yet to the Olympieion, 
 nor to the temple-crowned, snow-powdered heights beyond. 
 Furtively, underneath the rug, her hand stole to the hand 
 of the girl, and held it fast. 
 
 " Briseis, my dear child," said she, *' I told you I brought 
 no ill-news. And that is true. But I bring news. I 
 don't say that it concerns you — I woidd not presiune to
 
 'SEEMED ATHENS AS A PARADISE' 315 
 
 Bay that. Perhaps it does not — perhaps it does not con- 
 cern you in the least ; and you must not think me 
 impertinent ' ' 
 
 " But what is it, Miss Jean ? " said Briseis, wondering. 
 
 " Well," said Aunt Jean, after a moment's desperate 
 hesitation, " when you were in London, my nephew Frank 
 was engaged to be married. You knew that, of course. 
 But the engagement is all broken off now : he is a free 
 man : and — and he thought you would rather hear of it, in 
 a roundabout way, from me " 
 
 For a second the girl did not seem to realise all that this 
 implied, though at the mere first mention of the news she 
 had grown deadly pale ; then suddenly she said, in a sort of 
 breathless fashion — 
 
 " Miss Jean, Miss Jean, I would rather go back 1 You 
 won't mind, will you — some other time I will go to the 
 Acropolis with you — some other time — the children — the 
 Patronne — will be expecting me " And then she her- 
 self appeared to see that this was some kind of admission ; 
 and she made a wild effort to regain her self-control. " Oh, 
 yes, we will go on," she managed to say. " Why not .? 
 The Propylaea steps may be a little difficult ; but that's 
 nothing. They may have cleared a pathway even — anyhow 
 • — anyhow — it will be a singular spectacle for you — you 
 must not miss it. And so you tell me Sir Francis is not to 
 
 be married after all ! — well, well " But with that her 
 
 heroic effort to appear unconcerned failed her ; and except 
 for a mechanical sentence now and again she relapsed into 
 a silence that Jean Gordon was too considerate to attempt 
 to break. The girl seemed afraid. 
 
 And meanwhile Frank Gordon was away up on the 
 summit of the solitary hill, stumbling about among the 
 broken pillars, or surveying the wide prospect around him, 
 from the white-clad range of Parnes to the blue waters of 
 the Gulf of Aegina. The luck of this fellow ! — to have 
 come to Athens for the first time and found it all a marvel 
 of snow-radiance and azure sea. As for his inspection of 
 the ancient monuments, that was of a quite ignorant and 
 perfunctory character ; perhaps his imagination was busy 
 elsewhere ; and unmistakably he had to attend a good deal 
 to his footing — for the wind-driven snow had covered over
 
 3i6 BRISEIS 
 
 not only the deep seams and fissures in the rock itself but 
 also the spaces between the tumbled and shattered columns, 
 so that everywhere were treacherous holes. But in the 
 roofed-over portion of the Erectheum there was less of 
 drift ; and here the beautiful scroll-work of the cornices 
 was clearly exposed to view ; so that he lingered in these 
 precincts for a long time — thinking and thinking — per- 
 chance of egg-and-dart, and key, and honeysuckle : per- 
 chance not. 
 
 Voices broke in upon his reverie — a strange sound on this 
 lonely and snow-hushed height. They drew nearer ; and 
 not wishing to be caught in a corner, as it were, by strangers, 
 he withdrew from this sheltered spot, and passed out by the 
 tall Ionic pillars. When he got into the open, Briseis was 
 standing there. She was standing there, waiting. There 
 was no pretence in her eyes now, as she regarded him. 
 For the moment her attitude was not unlike that of the 
 restored Caryatid in the portico hard by — just as noble, and 
 simple, and gracious ; but this living and breathing figure 
 was of flesh and blood, as was evident enough in the colour 
 of her face and in the shrinking and maiden wistfulncss of 
 her look. To him it was all a vision — a flash : the next 
 instant his outstretched hands had seized hers, and drawn 
 her to him. 
 
 " My own 1 " he said — and she had no word in reply. 
 
 By this time Jean Gordon had gone away. The fact ia 
 as the gardeners at Grantly Castle knew to their sorrow, 
 she had a trick, no matter in what outlandish part she 
 might be — or the more outlandish the better — of collecting 
 roots, slips, cuttings, and the like, to try if these could be 
 got to grow in Aberdeenshire : and now, close by the 
 Temple of the Six Virgins, she was industriously engaged 
 in brushing away the snow from certain clumps of witliered 
 weeds and thistles, seeking for some prickly bulb of seed 
 that she might carry off. Also she was much interested in 
 the figure of the replaced Caryatid, for the mutilated original 
 is in the British Museum ; and she was saying to it : ' Yes, 
 you are indeed very beautiful, and serene, and sweet, but 
 you have not the magnetism and the witchery of the 
 laughing girl I saw half an hour ago throwing snowballs in 
 the orchard.' She left the lovers to themselves.
 
 * SEEMED ATHENS AS A PARADISE' 317 
 
 And thus it was that on this spacious plateau, which 
 through so many centuries has been the cynosure of all the 
 civilised world — on this lofty plateau that looks abroad on 
 surroundings sufficiently august — Pentelicus, Hymettus, 
 Aegaleos, and the shining blue of the Bay of Salamis — here 
 it was that a betrothal took place, of two souls that had 
 thought themselves sundered for ever, but had come to- 
 gether at last. And truly it was a fitting day for such a 
 betrothal, a day altogether auspicious ; for it is not every 
 morning that the City of the Violet Crown arrays herself in 
 her bridal robes of silver and white. 
 
 THE EVD.
 
 LONDON ; 
 
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 Judith Shakespeare. 
 
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 A Princess of Thule. 
 
 White Heather. 
 
 In Silk Attire. 
 
 Sabina Zembra. 
 
 Kilmeny. 
 
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 House Boat. 
 
 Three Feathers. 
 
 In Far Lochaber. 
 
 The Maid of Killeena. 
 
 The Penance of John Logan. 
 
 Green Pastures & Piccadilly. 
 
 Prince Fortunatus. 
 
 Macleod of Dare. 
 
 Stand Fast, Craig Royston ! 
 
 Lady Silverdale's Sweetheart. 
 
 Donald Ross of Heimra. 
 
 White Wings. 
 
 Wolfenberg. 
 
 Sunrise. 
 
 The Handsome Humes. 
 
 The Beautiful Wretch. 
 
 Highland Cousins. 
 
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 Eriseis. 
 
 Adventures in Thule. 
 
 Magic Ink. 
 
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