OF THE
 
 R0SE 
 
 IS1TY OF 
 

 
 presented to the 
 
 LIBRARY 
 ERSITY OF CALIFORNIA SAN DIEGO 
 
 by 
 FRIENDS OF THE LIBRARY
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST 
 
 
 BY 
 
 AMYE READE 
 
 AUTHOR OF "RUBY" 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 HOVENDON COMPANY 
 
 17 & 19 WAVERLY PLACE
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1892, 
 
 BY 
 UNITED STATES BOOK COMPANY, 
 
 [All rights reserved.}
 
 TO 
 
 ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON, 
 POET LAUREATE, 
 
 WHOSE DIVINE POETRY 
 
 AND 
 LOVE FOR HUMANITY HAS TOUCHED THE HEARTS OF ALL, 
 
 &l)ts Book, 
 
 WITH PERMISSION, IS 
 
 BY THE 
 
 AUTHOR.
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 MUCH as I anticipated opposition to the indictment 
 in my novel Ruby, in which I dealt with the cruelties 
 employed in the training of young 1 people for the 
 amusements of thoughtless crowds, little did I expect 
 that the selfish unbelief of some professing philan- 
 thropy would have been my greatest difficulty in 
 arousing public sympathy for a long-suffering class, 
 which are as yet practically helpless. 
 
 In their ill-judged supineness some critics acted 
 against me without examining the existence of the 
 evil. I invited such examination from the public 
 platform, and made such efforts as I deemed advis- 
 able through my novel to teach the public the truth, 
 which until then had been a dead secret. Further, I 
 recommended them to inquire and assure themselves 
 that my statements of the veritable horrors of the ring 
 were positive realities. 
 
 My challenge was unheeded. They asserted, in 
 their ignorance of circus life, that the conditions und,er 
 which I described the children's sufferings were im- 
 possible, and in many instances I have been met with 
 distrust and actual contradiction. 
 
 Some could not understand the brutality of men 
 for the sake of gain. They had never put a foot "be- 
 hind the scenes, " yet they deemed themselves capable 
 of judging that of which they knew nothing, and so 
 declined to believe an accumulation of evidence. 
 They deprecated any interference which might put an 
 end to what they call amusement, but which I declare 
 to be injustice and cruelty. 
 
 I have been severely blamed for representing, very
 
 6 PREFACE. 
 
 mildly, the strong language daily used in connection 
 with circus life, but I maintain that I wrote no more 
 than was necessary to point out the moral condition 
 by which the girls are surrounded, but sentimentalists 
 preferred that the evil should continue to exist rather 
 than that it should be made known and redressed by 
 public sympathy. Surely that which is too horrible 
 to read should be regarded as too vile to live, and 
 the language which has outraged their instincts can- 
 not be less degrading to the young children's ears, 
 when training for the circus, or the trapeze. 
 
 Is it not hypocritical to cry down that which is true, 
 whilst erotic novels with profligate heroes abound in 
 fashionable libraries and adorn the drawing-room, in 
 order that fair and thoughtless women may while 
 away the languid hours ? 
 
 Yet these very people frequent the circus for amuse- 
 ment, and enjoy seeing the poor spangled riders and 
 acrobats straining their limbs into all kinds of un- 
 natural postures, knowing as they know now, the 
 frightful tortures they must have undergone to fit 
 themselves for their performances. 
 
 Their selfishness is apparent : they withhold their 
 sympathies, they call my careful statements of facts 
 "Sensation," "An advertisement," "An impossibility 
 in a Christian country " could I not write of such peo- 
 ple that they are dull, unimpressible, and wanting in 
 heart and moral courage ? 
 
 It is true I drew a pitiful picture, I set down hard 
 truths, truths which those who cry out about sweaters 
 in the slums dare not have uncovered. I make known 
 in Ruby a great deal, but there is more to divulge 
 about the " slaves of the sawdust." 
 
 My mission shall be to tell it. I will go on until I 
 have gained the protection I crave for those who 
 perform wonderful feats for the pleasure of the people. 
 
 There is a dark phase in the lives of those who 
 are engaged in the circus, but the light is beginning to 
 break, the dawn is not very distant. For this end, I
 
 PREFACE. 7 
 
 again place before my readers another tale, founded 
 upon facts which I have personally verified. 
 
 With renewed vigour and perseverance, I am again 
 directing my steps to the goal from which will arise 
 the emancipation of these white slaves, and all my 
 efforts will be directed to that great end, however 
 remote it may appear to those who have found it so 
 easy to consider my work far removed from the 
 probabilities of truth. 
 
 I shall never weary waiting for victory ; 1 shall 
 never tire of my self-imposed task. I intend to dedi- 
 cate all my faculties, all my time to win the cause of 
 the young no opposers shall obstruct my path even 
 if they dare to impute to me the stigma which must 
 for ever rest on those who put idealism under the 
 garb of truth. 
 
 AMYE READE. 
 
 Christmas, 1891.
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 ON THE NAB'S HEAD. 
 
 WHAT was that sound which broke the stillness of 
 the summer day ? Was it the call of someone in 
 dire distress, or was it the hoarse cry of a seabird ? 
 
 Repose, there seemed to be repose everywhere, 
 as far as the eye could see ; even the little village of 
 Sandcliffe, with its quaint houses and wayside inn, 
 was basking in the glorious heat of the July day. 
 The unpaved street was almost deserted, for only a 
 few cows, driven by a small boy, were to be seen 
 lazily making their way to the farm upon the hill. 
 
 Now and again a shopkeeper peeped out of his 
 door, for trade was slack and there was nothing to 
 while away the long drowsy afternoon. 
 
 There were no strangers to attract attention, for 
 Sandcliffe was too remote a place for holiday folk, 
 and there was only a daily coach service between it 
 and the town of Bayhaven, three miles away. 
 
 One summer, two great artists had come to paint 
 a sea scene. Quite a nutter of excitement had been 
 caused by their appearance, and the villagers made 
 much of them. Indeed it was an event long to be 
 remembered. 
 
 But this summer-tide there were no artists to dis- 
 turb the tranquillity of the good folks ; so the days 
 came and went with very little change in the monot-
 
 10 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 oriy, which had grown habitual even to the young of 
 the village. Sometimes a funeral, winding its way to 
 the little Norman church, would give rise to length- 
 ened gossips and discussions amongst the simple 
 band left behind, or a village wedding lend a passing 
 excitement to those who had known the bride's mother 
 since baby days, and had watched the bride, too, as 
 she grew up a pretty and graceful maiden, who per- 
 chance had never been out of her village home, and 
 who knew nothing of the restless, anxious world 
 beyond. 
 
 A mile from these village homes the coast stretched 
 down to the open sea, and a weird spot it was. 
 During the winter days the waters frowned in angry 
 majesty, and heavy grew the swell against the cold 
 grey cliffs. Terrific was the roar of the waves as 
 they broke against the pebbled shore ; it seemed al- 
 most as if sky, cliffs, storm, and sea mated together, 
 making the scene one of unabated fury. 
 
 But there were no storm clouds now chasing each 
 other with angry force ; the sweeping waters were 
 resting, and only a murmur like a melodious chant 
 was discernible, and that was but feebly heard from the 
 shore, for the tide was down and there was a great 
 expanse of golden sand stretching away before the 
 blue waves, chaffing in idle play, could be reached. 
 Further along, where the shore grew wider and 
 more desolate, the murmur grew louder, for the 
 waves broke against a mass of grey cragged rock 
 whose shattered peaks heaved from the water. At 
 the ebb-tide they stood out in bold relief, but at the 
 flow they were hidden by the waves. Sombre, 
 beautiful as they were, stories were told by the vil- 
 lagers of the treacherous dangers of the Nab's Head 
 Rock, for between the rock and the land an under- 
 current flowed as the tide rose, and so insidious was 
 it that a stranger could not guess, from the gentle 
 movement of the water, of the terrible foe lurking 
 beneath. On, on the current came, until the water
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. n 
 
 grew black and deep, and the only way to the shore 
 from Nab's Head Rock was through the Valley of 
 Death. 
 
 The tide was rising now, and each moment the 
 rock was growing less and less beneath the advanc- 
 ing tide, whilst the current between the shore and 
 Nab's Head was running in with tremendous force. 
 Soon all communication would be cut off, and the 
 rock would be submerged for many hours. 
 
 Once again that strained harsh cry was heard ; it 
 seemed to rise from the bosom of the sea, and then 
 die away among the massive silent cliffs. 
 
 Again it came, fraught with anguish, almost heart- 
 rending in its intensity. It could be no sea-bird, for 
 the words, "Help! help! I'm drowning 1 " uttered 
 with passionate entreaty, reached the shore. 
 
 A rider had been galloping over the smooth sands, 
 as yet untouched by the tide. He drew rein sud- 
 denly, and listened ; his boarbound uttered a long, 
 low growl, he turned fiercely towards the dog. 
 
 "Be quiet, you brute, lie down." 
 
 The animal obeyed his voice instantly, and 
 crouched a few yards from the restive, panting horse. 
 The rider glanced hurriedly around shore, sand, sea, 
 cliffs came under his rapid glance, but not until his 
 eyes rested upon the rock did he perceive from 
 whence the cry had arisen. 
 
 There he saw the flutter of a summer dress, an up- 
 turned face, white and drawn with acute agony and 
 nameless terror. The owner of the face was cling- 
 ing to the rugged rock with all her strength, whilst 
 the sea encroached upon her every moment. The 
 man saw that action must be prompt or it would 
 be too late. 
 
 He struck his horse sharply with his whip, and 
 the already nervous and excited animal plunged and 
 reared, as if to resent such treatment, but a few sharp 
 pricks from the spurs caused him to hasten his 
 pace.
 
 12 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 The girl had caught sight of the man, and she 
 renewed her cry of distress. 
 
 "Help! help! I cannot reach the shore save 
 me!" 
 
 "Don't be afraid, Madam," he shouted, "I will 
 come to you ; my horse shall do it. Hold on tightly, 
 do you understand ? " 
 
 His authoritative tone reassured her ; she was quite 
 convinced that her danger was over, that he could 
 really rescue her from her perilous position. 
 
 "I understand," she replied' faintly. Exhaustion 
 was stealing over her, and this her rescuer seemed to 
 realise. 
 
 " Hold on a little longer," he shouted again ; " you 
 shall soon be safe." 
 
 The dog barked lustily when his master attempted 
 to make his horse plunge into the deep water to reach 
 the rock beyond. 
 
 Narrow as the crossing was, the animal refused 
 to obey ; he resisted bit and bridle, and the barking 
 of the dog made him still more impatient and more 
 eager to turn his back upon the sea. 
 
 "Hold your infernal noise ! " the horseman shouted, 
 and he stooped down and gave the dog a stingihg 
 cut with his whip. With a howl of pain the animal 
 slunk away, and watched his master from afar with 
 eager eyes. 
 
 Again he tried to put the horse to the water, but 
 without success. He plunged again and again, 
 backing on to the shore until his haunches almost 
 touched the sandy beach. 
 
 The girl saw the affrighted horse from her vantage 
 ground, and fear crept over her once again. Would 
 the man's efforts to save her prove to be unavailing 
 after all ? 
 
 He did not call to her again, all his attention was 
 directed to his horse. Oh ! how long it seemed to 
 her before he brought it once more to the water's 
 edge, and yet it was scarcely a minute. He applied
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 13 
 
 his spurs to the already bleeding 1 flanks, and used his 
 whip unmercifully. Neck, shoulders, and head came 
 in for a shower of cruel cuts, until at length, with a 
 neigh of terror, the horse plunged into the deepening 
 sea. On, on he went, feeling his way cautiously 
 and timidly, until the water reached beyond the girth, 
 then he was carried by the current off his feet, 
 and swimming became a necessity. At last, after 
 many a struggle, he reached the more shallow water 
 at the foot of the rock. There was just sufficient 
 room for the horse to stand, and then his rider spoke. 
 
 "Now, Madam, do as I tell you, quickly; delay 
 will endanger our lives. Come as near me as you 
 can, otherwise I cannot get a firm hold. You must 
 be quick ; it takes all my time to keep this beast 
 quiet." 
 
 She crept cautiously towards him, and in another 
 s moment he stretched over, and grasping her firmly 
 round the waist, swung her on to the saddle before 
 him, and then wheeled the horse round shorevvards. 
 The task was not easy. With one hand he supported 
 the girl, and with the other he held whip and bridle. 
 To make matters more difficult, the horse plunged 
 wildly, and splashed the water over them, blinding 
 him with the spray. Sometimes the current carried 
 them quickly forward, and to actually guide the 
 animal was practically impossible. 
 
 The girl tried to thank him, but he bade her some- 
 what sternly to be silent. 
 
 Back again with his double burthen the horse 
 fought his way through the treacherous current, until 
 at length, almost exhausted, he felt the yielding sand 
 beneath his hoofs. He stumbled once or twice on the 
 loose shingle, and then the girl knew their terrible 
 adventure was over. 
 
 Her rescuer lifted her from the horse as easily as 
 if she had been a child, and then dismounting him- 
 self, he slipped the bridle over his arm and turned 
 towards her. For a moment they stood in silence
 
 I4 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 a coyness came over the girl now the danger was 
 averted and she found herself face to face with 
 a stranger. 
 
 She was terribly agitated ; he was calm, cool, and 
 collected. 
 
 At last he spoke. 
 
 "Won't you sit down for a few moments, Made- 
 moiselle, on that boulder close behind you and re- 
 cover yourself?" 
 
 He had substituted Mademoiselle for Madam when 
 he found she was a mere girl, perhaps scarcely 
 eighteen years of age. 
 
 "You must be tired, and wet too, I fear," he added 
 kindly. His tone of sympathy gave her confidence, 
 and she looked up into his face. 
 
 What a pleasing picture he made standing there. 
 A tall, dignified man, about thirty years of age, his 
 dark flashing eyes and black hair served to show to 
 greater advantage the rest of his fine features. A 
 heavy black moustache half hid the haughty, smiling 
 mouth. But how firm he looked : vigour and energy 
 of mind were clearly perceptible, and an observant 
 person could hardly have described his face as sin- 
 cerely kind. Handsome beyond a doubt, but there 
 was something undefined, something which baffled 
 description, which would have made the decision 
 hardly in his favour. But the girl only saw his manly 
 beauty, and without knowing it her heart yielded 
 to the lavish touch of nature, and she contemplated 
 him as she would have done anything else which 
 inspired her with admiration. 
 
 " Yes, I am very tired," and she sat down on the 
 boulder gratefully. " I was so frightened. How 
 good you were to save me." She paused, her eyes 
 filled with tears. After a struggle she continued : 
 " lam so very, very grateful." She put out her hand, 
 and as he took it he noticed how white and elegant 
 it was, and he wondered who the fair-haired girl could 
 be who had been left to the mercy of the waves.
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 15 
 
 " It has been a great pleasure to serve you. I am 
 deeply thankful I came in time to be of use." 
 
 He smiled bewitchingly as he spoke, his eyes 
 beaming- with genuine admiration as he looked down 
 on the pretty girlish face. 
 
 " You are very good to say so, but it was all my 
 own fault. I fell asleep, and when I awoke the 
 waves which had been so far away before were close 
 upon me. I called again and again, but no reply 
 came. Then I thought I was lost, when suddenly 
 you came up and saved me. You might have been 
 drowned too. How brave you were ! " 
 
 " You think so," he replied in his rich, decisive 
 tones, " but I assure you it was nothing after all. 
 Any man would do as much to gain the thanks 
 of one so fair as you." He raised his hat and 
 bowed. 
 
 She smiled, but did not reply. She was not pre- 
 pared for compliments, least of all from a stranger, 
 yet they pleased her. 
 
 Brave and stern he looked, whilst the shadows 
 played around him a man born to be a hero, if the 
 Fates had not denied him such glory a man who 
 would have defied life and death, if such could be 
 possible ; but he possessed one peculiar faculty, of 
 which he was very proud, and that was his power 
 of inspiring fear, yet with passionate love, when he 
 chose he used this influence with great force. This 
 spell he now cast over the young girl before him. 
 
 " Be quiet, sir, do you hear, be quiet." He turned 
 to the horse with a scowl. " You brute," he had 
 been about to say, but discretion came to his aid and 
 he substituted " sir." 
 
 " 'Fleetfoot,' is so impatient,"' he continued. 
 " I've had a pretty tough time of it coming from 
 Bay haven ; he is young and fresh." 
 
 " ' Fleetfoot/ what a pretty name," and for the 
 first time she turned to give the animal a searching 
 look. " You should call him ' Rubicon ' after to-
 
 X 6 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 day, because he has crossed the small stream coming 
 from the sea. The water we came through will do 
 for the ' Rubicon/ and you," she hesitated, " can 
 be Caesar : you are as courageous as he." 
 
 A smile broke over his countenance at her words, 
 that fascinating smile which had won more hearts 
 than gold. 
 
 As she spoke something hot and moist licked her 
 hand, and she turned round to see a large dog close 
 upon her. 
 
 "Oh, you beauty!" she exclaimed, with sudden 
 joy in her voice. " I suppose he belongs to you ?" 
 
 " Yes ; his name is ' Athol.' He's a splendid 
 beast. Are you fond of dogs ? " 
 
 " Very, but I don't think you can be," she answered 
 shyly. " I saw you strike him with the whip ; his 
 cry of pain came to me on the rock, and poor ' Fleet- 
 foot,' you lashed him cruelly oh, it was horrible, 
 horrible ! " and she shuddered as she spoke. 
 
 "I am afraid young ladies don't quite understand 
 horses with vile tempers," he remarked severely. 
 "Do not you think a human life is of more con- 
 sequence than that of a horse? Could I have let you 
 drown," he added more gently, "because my horse 
 refused to take the water ? ' Fleetfoot ' or ' Rubicon ' 
 as you wish him called, must obey his master." 
 
 She felt somewhat nettled by his manner, and yet 
 she was captivated by his strong will and absolute 
 power. 
 
 " I do not wish him called ' Rubicon/" she replied 
 quietly. "You must think me very rude to have 
 suggested a change in the name of your horse, but I 
 do think he could have crossed the stream just as 
 easily had you shown him more mercy. Shakespeare 
 says : ' Mercy becomes the monarch better than his 
 crown.' Do you ever read Shakespeare ? " 
 
 "I have no time, Mademoiselle; I wish I had," he 
 replied gravely. 
 
 " I always carry a tiny copy of one of his plays,"
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 17 
 
 and she pulled one from her pocket as she spoke and 
 held it up for his inspection. 
 
 " May I look at it?" He took it from her, and 
 then, as if by accident, he turned to the fly-leaf and 
 read her name, Leila Gurney. 
 
 She watched him as he turned the wet leaves back- 
 wards and forwards, his diamond ring flashing in the 
 light, and a pale flush spread over her face. She had 
 forgotten her name was in the book, but it was too 
 late now he had seen it. 
 
 "Thank you," he added, as he handed her back 
 the tiny volume. "Do you often come clown here 
 by the sea? It must be nice in the early morning, 
 cool and refreshing." 
 
 "Yes, I come every day, but generally in the after- 
 noon, never in the morning." 
 
 Unsuspectingly she had given the man just the 
 information he wished for, and to his next question 
 she replied just as truthfully. 
 
 "You live in this place I suppose?" 
 
 "No, I am here for the summer. I lodge at Green's 
 cottage up in the village, but it is dreadfully dull," 
 she added sadly. "I have no friends not even a 
 dog or a horse not a soul with whom I can exchange 
 ideas. It is miserable." 
 
 "I am sure it must be," he replied. "You're very 
 young to be so much alone." 
 
 She rose from the boulder, caressing the dog as 
 she did so. She paused and looked seawards. The 
 Nab's Head could not be seen now. A grey mist was 
 skimming along deep down on the horizon, and the 
 ships with their brown saijs looked like big birds 
 with expanded wings against the sky. 
 
 Nearer to the shore the sun's rays were steeping 
 the clouds with gold, and breasting the waves with 
 colour, making their edges glittering and ruddy. 
 
 " Well, good-bye," and once again she put out her 
 hand, "good-bye, and thank you a thousand times 
 for saving my life. I only wish I could give you 
 
 2
 
 X 8 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 some recompense for all you have done, but I own 
 nothing of value that I could offer you. I wish I 
 did." 
 
 He took her hand gently, a thrill went through her 
 at his touch ; he noticed how the flush rose to her 
 cheeks as he said good-bye. 
 
 Then he turned towards the horse. 
 
 "'Rubicon,' we must go home," he said, mount- 
 ing quickly, and then whistling to his dog, he looked 
 at the beautiful girl standing on the shore. 
 
 "Good-bye, Mademoiselle," he called, and lifting 
 his hat he'rode off in the direction of the town. 
 
 What a change had come over her life in those few 
 short minutes, and as she hurried to her cottage home 
 everything seemed brighter and more cheerful. Her 
 life hitherto had been so dull, such a blank that any 
 change gave her intense pleasure. 
 
 This stranger had come, and. pleasant visions of his 
 fine, handsome face and gentle manners haunted her 
 thoughts as the one bright star of her life. 
 
 Who was he, she wondered ? He had given her no 
 clue, not even his name ; that was a mystery still 
 unrevealed. 
 
 With half rapture and half sorrow she thought of 
 him, for her heart was full. Was it good-bye for ever, 
 she wondered ? 
 
 Shadows and dreams of happiness had made up 
 her lonely life ; this, perchance, was only the flash of 
 a meteor, come and gone and lost like the rest. 
 
 Then she remembered he was but a stranger.
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 19 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 W H A N K S. 
 
 QUIETLY the horse wended his way over the smooth, 
 firm sands. He might have been riderless for the 
 interest that was taken in his movements. The fright 
 of crossing the water, together with the severe treat- 
 ment he had undergone, had reduced his spirits con- 
 siderably, and he was content to make the homeward 
 journey at a slow pace. His master could have been 
 in no haste, for spur and whip were idle for once. 
 
 The rider's thoughts were far away from the scene 
 around him. He had for a time forgotten the rippling 
 waves and the glories of the summer evening. He 
 had forgotten his horse and dog, so each went their 
 own way. 
 
 Fancy had cast her glamour over him, making 
 futurity more bright even for him. Such thoughts 
 rarely if ever came to gladden his life. Hope had 
 never painted unfading happiness in his mind, and 
 no centre of special love had made his life an earthly 
 heaven. 
 
 But he could not forget the bright, beautiful girl, 
 with her wealth of short golden hair falling in loose 
 curls around her shapely head ; her soft, tender eyes, 
 raised so gently when she spoke ; the trusting, win- 
 some manner, so girlish, so exquisitely natural. 
 
 There was grace in every action of the supple limbs, 
 but it was when she smiled that her beauty was the 
 most attractive. He wondered, if she was so beautiful 
 now, what would her perfections be later when 
 maturity had completed nature's bounteous gifts. 
 How grateful she had been to him for saving her life, 
 how warm in her gratitude had been the grasp of her
 
 20 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 tiny hand. Then his thoughts wandered to her lone- 
 liness, and he wondered gravely why she was friend- 
 less amongst strangers, and a feeling something akin 
 to sympathy came over him. 
 
 His heart was smitten, his admiration grew with 
 his thoughts of her, his passions were stirred to the 
 very depths of his nature, he almost loved the girl 
 with the golden hair. He must see her again, and 
 that soon. He must learn more about his newly- 
 found friend. Might she not be the one appointed to 
 gratify the one ambition of his hard, stern life? He 
 would try to win her for himself. Yet his scheme 
 might fail. The girl might be a ward in Chancery, 
 or there might be a guardian ready to put his foot 
 down to prevent the girl coming to meet him. If she 
 had had a father or mother surely she would have 
 mentioned them after her narrow escape from death. 
 
 She was a lady, he was sure of that, although her 
 dress was simple and somewhat shabby. Perhaps 
 she was alone in the world a girl with an income 
 just removed from starvation. 
 
 Dwell as he might on the fairest picture his life 
 had ever seen, deeper grew the mystery as to who 
 could be the lovely girl found on the Nab's Rock. 
 
 Emilio Castelli was by profession an equestrian 
 manager. He had filled that position for years in 
 many of the great Continental and English circuses. 
 He had been successful in all his undertakings, and 
 had made considerable sums of money from time 
 to time. He was now equestrian manager and 
 ringmaster at Deval's Royal Circus, besides which 
 he owned a troupe of performing horses which were 
 almost world renowned. These were the attraction 
 which filled the circus at every town they visited, 
 and Castelli drew large amounts from the treasury 
 every week. 
 
 He was a man who understood his duties thor- 
 oughly, and he expected those brought into contact 
 with him to do the same. Those who knew him in
 
 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 2 1 
 
 social life thought him cold, unfriendly, and severe, 
 and he was no favourite with the artistes or those 
 engaged about the circus. But it was in his profes- 
 sional capacity that his full force of character was 
 delineated. If one of his equestrian pupils became 
 faulty in his tricks the dark eyes grew brilliant with 
 suppressed passion, his thin lips grew set and white, 
 his face became crimson and then pale, and great 
 purple veins stood out on his broad forehead. Swift- 
 ly and with force he would raise the long-thonged 
 whip and administer cruel castigation for very slight 
 errors. 
 
 To him an animal quivering with pain and trem- 
 bling with anguish was no uncommon sight. He 
 was hardened to the cruelty which embittered the 
 lives of the poor weary horses. Their tortures and 
 misery were nothing to him. Did they not bring 
 him gold? In his capacity as ringmaster he showed 
 little mercy, treating men and women with the same 
 severity. Once when a great lady rider had come 
 from a Continental circus, and all the men about the 
 place raved of her beauty and her talents, he smiled 
 at their infatuation and treated the fair equestrian 
 with scanty ceremony. He was master of the ring, 
 and he made her understand that, and none dared to 
 dispute his right. 
 
 But a simple girlish face had suddenly impressed 
 him, and for the first time in his life a woman's 
 image lived in his mind to the exclusion of all else. 
 Extremes meet in some natures, and with a mighty 
 bound invade the heart with great force, thus 
 beginning a virtue or a ^ce. 
 
 Years before, Emilio Uastelli had made up his 
 mind that if he married he would marry a lady, a 
 woman far removed from the associations of the 
 ring, and this restless ambition had increased with 
 time, and now perhaps the opportunity had come 
 and the Fates would be propitious and give him the 
 girl he had rescued from the waves. But his train
 
 22 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUS T. 
 
 of happy thoughts were interrupted. The horse 
 stumbled over a loose stone, and with an oath 
 Castelli checked him, and then awoke to the fact 
 that he was close to the town. He pulled out his 
 watch. It was growing late. He urged the horse 
 on more quickly. 
 
 " If I am not there to the moment," he murmured, 
 " something is sure to go wrong." Up the crowded 
 thoroughfare he rode, never slackening his speed 
 until he reached the street where he lodged. 
 Suddenly he reined in his horse, for in the roadway 
 there was gathered a motley crowd, cheering two 
 men who stood fighting in their centre. One of 
 them fell, and his antagonist was upon him in a 
 second. The roughs grew excited and yelled out, 
 
 ' ' Go it, Tim ! Lay on to him ! Keep him down ! 
 You've got him ! Give him gruel ! " 
 
 Sonae of the onlookers caught sight of the rider 
 and shouted to their comrades, 
 
 " Here's the boss from the circus. There'll be 
 a darned good row now. Let's clear ojii." 
 
 Some of the wisest followed this advice, but many 
 lingered to "see it out." 
 
 In a moment Castelli realised that one of his 
 grooms was implicated in the quarrel. 
 
 "What's all this about?" he shouted. "Stand 
 pn one side or I'll ride over you," and suiting his 
 ction to his word he turned his horse into their 
 midst. 
 
 Scrambling, fighting for the path to ensure their 
 safety, they dispersed rapidly, but the two men still 
 remained in the road, Tim Baker resolute and dogged, 
 his companion lying on the ground, dust-begrimed 
 and without his hat. 
 
 " Get up, you fool ! " roared Castelli. " Get up ! " 
 The man looked up at his angry master and tried to 
 rise. " And clear out of the way, you blackguard ! " 
 he hissed as he turned towards Tim Baker. 
 
 " The road ain't yours," replied the man sullenly.
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 23 
 
 " Your groom ain't worth punching. Let him take 
 that and be ." 
 
 He raised his heavy hobnailed boot to kick his 
 opponent, but Castelli was too quick for him. 
 
 " Oh, that's your game, is it? Kick a man when 
 he's drunk," and before the man could realise his 
 position Castelli had seized him by the collar, and 
 lifting him off his feet, swung him across the street, 
 where he fell into the gutter, whilst the loafing 
 crowd cheered heartily. One boy, to obtain a better 
 view, had climbed up a lamp post, and called out, 
 " There's beauty and the beast on a 'oss. Three 
 cheers for the circus," after which refined speech he 
 slid to the ground. 
 
 Castelli rode up to his door and sent a boy to his 
 landlady to tell her he wanted her son to take his 
 horse to the stables at the circus. Then dismount- 
 ing, he waited for his man, who was coming* slowly 
 up to where he stood. 
 
 " Is the dog to come with the horse ?" asked a 
 youthful voice meekly, as if afraid to venture the 
 question. 
 
 " No ; be off," replied Castelli shortly. " So you 
 can manage to walk straight now your master has 
 come home, can you, you drunken fool ? " he said 
 as the groom approached him. " Come upstairs to 
 my room." 
 
 The man did not reply, but followed his master to 
 his apartments. 
 
 Castelli's groom and personal attendant, known 
 in the circus by the name of Whanks, was a great 
 favourite with all OF them. He had travelled with 
 many of the large circuses, and had visited all the 
 chief European cities. When he had been engaged 
 by Castelli, his name caused much amusement 
 amongst the artistes and in the stables. For a time 
 he put up with the banter, and then one evening 
 he told a group of his fellows why he was called 
 " Whanks."
 
 24 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 
 
 "You may laugh and jeer at me," he said, "but 
 there's a sad reason why I like the name. Some 
 years ago I was one of the attendants belonging to 
 a celebrated troupe of acrobats. One of them, a 
 little fellow, became awfully fond of me he were 
 a wee little chap, but spry, and sharp as a needle. 
 Sometimes I would take him oranges, apples or 
 cakes unbeknown to his trainer. One day after a 
 rehearsal he comes to me and says : ' Carl ' I was 
 Carl then 'Carl, when I was at home my father 
 called me 'Whanks.' I loved him the best in all 
 the world, and when he died no one called me 
 'Whanks ' again. I love you, Carl, almost as much 
 as my father loved me, so may I call you ' Whanks' ? 
 Poor little fellow, he was only nine years old, but 
 after that he always called me Whanks, and the rest 
 of the troupe took it up. One night when the 'show' 
 was on at a circus in Vienna one of the bars snapped 
 ^nd Franz fell with a thud to the sawdust beneath. 
 He never moved, but lay there like a log. They car- 
 ried him out, and he died in my arms. Once, just 
 before the last, he opened his eyes and said feebly : 
 'Whanks, am I much hurt?' That was the only 
 time he spoke. You've jeered at the name a goodish 
 deal, but maybe you will not, now you know ftow I 
 got it." 
 
 The grooms and stablemen turned away, and one 
 or two of them murmured " Poor little chap ! " Soon 
 the story spread, and no smile or sneer ever be- 
 trayed itself to the owner of the dead child's name. 
 
 Whom Castelli's Whanks had originally been no 
 one knew. He never mentioned, within anyone's 
 recollection, either his father or mother, or where he 
 had been brought up. The only relation he ever 
 spoke of was an aged aunt, who had promised to 
 leave him what little money she possessed, together 
 with her cottage and effects, and of this small pros- 
 pective fortune Whanks was never tired of talking. 
 It was his one thought, his daydream. His chums in
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 25 
 
 the circus were delighted to stand him "drinks," for 
 then the estimation of his coming wealth rose con- 
 siderably, and much fun they had at the expense of 
 him and his money. Unfortunately these drinks be- 
 came very frequent, and his master had often threat- 
 ened to discharge him. But when he was sober he 
 was so useful and handy that he was forgiven and 
 retained. His love for children and animals was 
 excessive, and many a weary apprentice, both boys 
 and girls, owed a debt of gratitude to Whanks for 
 little acts of kindness shown them at their rehear- 
 sals. Every horse and dog at the circus loved him, 
 and even "Bruin "was more tractable with him, 
 and often when the great rough bear refused to enter 
 the ring to practise his tricks VVhanks was called upon 
 to induce him to do as he was bidden, and the ani- 
 mal became at once more docile. Thus it was that 
 Whanks was too handy about the place to be dis- 
 missed. 
 
 Castelli knew bis worth, but he never let his man 
 forget that he was master, and never spared him for 
 the sake of past good services. 
 
 When they reached Castelli's apartments, his 
 master laid his riding-whip on the table, and then 
 turning to his man, fiercely asked, 
 
 "What the devil do you mean by getting tight? 
 Can't I leave you for an hour without your running 
 to the 'pub,' you besotted fool? The sooner you 
 clear out of our show and drink yourself to death 
 the better ! " and he threw a look of disgust and con- 
 tempt upon the shrinking, shamefaced man before 
 him. 
 
 "I couldn't help myself, sir, indeed I couldn't. 
 Even when I got outside that blessed 'pub ' I says, 
 'No, I won't go in,' and the rest says, 'Whanks, 
 a man ! ' I 
 
 "A man, indeed," broke in Castelli ; "a beast, 
 you mean." 
 
 " Begging your pardon, sir, I says to them, 'Not
 
 2 6 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 to-day, mates,' and was a-moving off when one of 
 our stablemen says, 'One drink can't hurt you, 
 Whanks, unless you're a fool.'" 
 
 "Just what you are," replied Castelli severely. 
 
 "1 can't help it, sir; them men worrits my life out 
 All day long it's ' Whanks, come here or go there 
 and give us a help,' till I'm bio wed if I knows what 
 I am doing." 
 
 "You know the way to that accursed bar fast 
 enough. You ought to be ashamed of yourself, get- 
 ting drunk and fighting in the street ; you're a dis- 
 grace to the show. What do you suppose will be 
 the end of it ? " 
 
 "I wish I could tell you, sir, but I can't, so there's 
 an end to that. I makes up my mind I'll never take 
 another glass, and I says to myself, ' I'll never get 
 drunk again, never,' and then someone comes along 
 friendly like and I goes as far as the ' pub ' corner 
 with them, and they persuades me against my will, 
 sir, to have just one glass, and all of a sudden like I 
 feels like as if I was swimming in the sea, and 
 
 The sea that recalled the bright vision of the 
 afternoon to Castelli's mind, and he exclaimed 
 angrily, 
 
 " Here, stop that infernal rubbish, and do not 
 quote the sea to me. You tell me you can't help get- 
 ting drunk, but look here," and he stepped quite close 
 to him, " look here, you idiot, mark my words, let 
 me catch you drunk once again and out you go neck 
 and crop, remember that ; and now be off to your 
 work, you lazy, good-for-nothing loafer." 
 
 " I am very sorry, sir," replied the man in a peni- 
 tent tone, and something like tears glistened in his 
 eyes. When I get my aunt's money I shall " 
 
 "You and your blessed aunt go to blazes. Be off, 
 I tell you, or I will fling you down the stairs. Go," 
 he roared, "do you hear?" 
 
 The man walked to the door, and then he turned a 
 pathetic face to his infuriated master.
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 27 
 
 ' ' You won't send me away this time, sir, will you ? " 
 he pleaded. " I couldn't leave you and the horses 
 and the old place. I'll never get drunk again, sir, 
 never. " 
 
 "Once more, will you be gone, and shut the door 
 after you, if you are sober enough." 
 
 Whanks closed the door, and as he walked slowly 
 down the stairs he took a red handkerchief from his 
 pocket and wiped away the tears that ran down his 
 cheeks. "The master's right, I am a fool. I've only 
 got what I deserved ; bul I can't leave him, somehow. 
 I can't, although his tantrums are awful to put up 
 with. If I had only got my aunt's money I'd never 
 ask him for another blessed quid, but I'd stay on at 
 the show all the same." 
 
 He sighed, and went, heavy-hearted, to his work. 
 His "chums" noticed his downcast looks, and they 
 guessed "there'd been a jolly big row between him 
 and his master," but they wisely refrained from 
 alluding to the subject. 
 
 Castelli, having expended his wrath, sat down to 
 a hurried tea, and again his thoughts went back to 
 the fair girl he had met. He could not forget her ; 
 he wondered where she was, what she thought of 
 him, and if they should ever meet again. 
 
 "It's time I had a wife, I think," he said to him- 
 self. " What a beastly muddle everything is in. I'm 
 sick of it all." 
 
 Certainly his surroundings were not very pleasing 
 to the eye sofas and chairs were strewn with papers, 
 circus bills, and posters, under the easy-chair boots 
 and shoes lay thrown together it was plain that no 
 one ever tried to give the place a look of home. It 
 was unmistakably "apartments fora single gentle- 
 man." 
 
 Castelli pushed his cup from him, rose from the 
 table, lit a cigar, and started for the circus. In 
 another hour a delighted audience were witnessing 
 the tricks of " Castelli's performing horses," and
 
 2 8 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 
 
 admiring 1 their sleek coats and wonderful feats, and 
 a buzz of delight went round from stalls to pit, and 
 pit to the gallery. Their trainer, too, came in for a 
 share of the admiration so lavishly offered. His 
 winning smile, his graceful bearing, his fascinating 
 manner were positive pleasures to the people, and 
 when he offered some sugar to his horses in the ring, 
 and spoke to them so gently, he received a perfect 
 ovation, and then he looked more handsome still 
 with a flush of triumph resting on his face. He was 
 so kind the people thought. Had they forgotten there 
 was another picture called Behind the Scenes?
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 29 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 LOOKING BACK. 
 
 LEILA GURNEY, having- got rid of her saturated gar- 
 ments, ,and having arrayed herself in a dressing- 
 gown, sat down in a low chair by the bedroom 
 window. The afternoon had been very adventurous 
 and fatiguing, so she wished to sit quietly for a time 
 to rest and think. 
 
 Before her stretched the pretty rustic garden, from 
 whence came sweet odours, borne on the summer 
 air, of roses, lilies and lavender. Each offered their 
 fragrance and their beauty. 
 
 Generally these gifts of the bounteous earth had 
 given her the greatest pleasure, but they were un- 
 heeded now. She was wondering what would have 
 been said had her dead body been washed up on the 
 shore at &e ebb-tide. She tried to picture how her 
 father would have received the news, and if he would 
 have cared so very much. Perhaps he would have 
 grieved a little when he heard she was dead. Then 
 her thoughts reverted to her brother Tom dear, faith- 
 ful, loving Tom ! She could imagine him reading her 
 father's letter telling him of the accident, and in foreign 
 lands alone he would mourn and fret for a sister very 
 dearly loved. It was the one joy of her life to know 
 how his heart yearned towards her. 
 
 More serious thoughts followed, and she leant back 
 in her chair and rested her head upon her small 
 white hand. Supposing she had been drowned, 
 where would she have been now? It was difficult 
 for her to realise what the boundary between life and 
 death must be. She could form no idea of the great 
 void where the soul speeds on its last flight. And
 
 j SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 
 
 yet how near she had been to that awful veil which 
 separates this world from the realms beyond the 
 grave. She shuddered at the thought of the stillness 
 of death, of her youth and life nearly lost, with only 
 eternity in all its vagueness before her when earthly 
 hopes had perished. 
 
 She was young enough not to wish for the pure 
 and perfect rest of heaven. She had no longing for 
 the land where all is gladness and the weary cease 
 to sigh. If her life had been like a sail in a storm, 
 the brightness of youth had made happy beams, and 
 she had no wish to die. How thankful she was that 
 the dark cloud which overshadowed the future had 
 rolled away and left her life she was so young to 
 die. 
 
 There had been times when Leila Gurney would 
 have resigned her life without a sigh ; days upon 
 which no light seemed to break through the gloom : 
 hours when her lonely agony seemed too intense to 
 be borne. She would have left life in those days 
 willingly, but now she was changed. Something 
 seemed to have come over her suddenly, just as the 
 sun shines after the storm has passed. 
 
 Was not this change due to the young and hand- 
 some man who had inspired her with such admira- 
 tion ? To herself she wondered why she felt so inter- 
 ested in him, and why she could not forget his 
 gracious smiles and kindly words of sympathy. 
 
 It was the first spark of love, but she did not know 
 it as yet, when it was a pleasant dream, but the spell 
 would break some day, and the bud spread and open 
 its petals to the light, and then it would blossom into 
 all the beauties of true love. 
 
 But she would have smiled if Cupid had whispered, 
 "it is Love." 
 
 Leila Gurney was just eighteen years of age; her 
 life had been very far from happy trouble had 
 played a far more prominent part than joy or inno- 
 cent pleasures, which girlhood has the right to
 
 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 3 1 
 
 demand. Her father, Charles Gurney, had been a 
 very prosperous stockbroker, living in a good-sized 
 house in Weymouth Street, Portland Place. When 
 Leila and her brother Tom, two years her junior, 
 were children, every luxury and indulgence was 
 showered upon them by their fond father. 
 
 He had been past middle life when he brought his 
 handsome bride to Weymouth Street. But no young 
 lover could have bestowed half the love and care 
 upon his sweetheart that Charles Gurney did upon 
 his young wife. Her wishes were his first consider- 
 ation, her whims and fancies the pleasure of his life 
 to gratify. Nothing was too much trouble to win her 
 thanks, or gain a smile from her lips. He was blind 
 to all her faults, and when he came to find that she 
 loved pleasure-seeking abroad more than her home, 
 and that admiration from the outside world delighted 
 her better than his genuine praise, he put it down 
 to being "only natural" for one so young and beau- 
 tiful, and he consented ungrudgingly to anything 
 which made her happy. 
 
 She was his life, his all, and when a daughter was 
 born to him*he gave it none of the affection which he 
 considered due to the mother. His love for the 
 child was great because it was hers, 'but the baby 
 girl must not steal the attention which belonged 
 solely to her mother. Her husband had wished thac 
 the child should be called Ida, because it had been 
 his mother's name, and her memory was very pre- 
 cious to him ; but his wife had fixed her mind on 
 Leila, and as in all things his wife had her way, the 
 child was christened Leila. Her selfishness was so 
 great that she would not even add his choice of a 
 name to hers. She hated the idea of her husband 
 interfering; besides, what was his mother to her? 
 It never struck her that love for the son should surely 
 engender some respect for the woman he called 
 mother. In spite of all his love, and care, all his 
 efforts to make her life one perpetual ray of sunshine,
 
 3 a SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 she would not please him by calling her child, and 
 his, by the name he loved so dearly. At first her 
 refusal vexed him considerably, but he banished 
 from his mind any unkindly thoughts which arose. 
 After all, a woman had every right to call her daughter 
 by the name she liked the best, and Leila was very 
 poetical and pretty, and so the shadow passed away. 
 He had one hope, however, and that was that the 
 baby girl would be the means of keeping his wife 
 more at home. He was so fond of a domestic life 
 that the constant round of pleasures had become the 
 bane of his existence. But the advent of the child, 
 he found, made no difference to the mother's gay 
 life, and when two years afterwards a boy, Tom, 
 was born, to his inexpressible grief he saw the two 
 children growing up left entirely to the charge of 
 servants. 
 
 Graver trouble, however, was at hand. His income, 
 although large, was not sufficient for constant ex- 
 travagances, and at a time of life when he should have 
 been enjoying more rest he had to redouble his ener- 
 gies and work harder to meet the constant demands 
 made upon him for his wife's debts. He at last took 
 a partner to help him, and for a time matters seemed 
 brighter, and 'Charles Gurney hoped to pull another 
 fortune together, for the sake of the woman who kept 
 him toiling that she might spend and make merry. 
 
 But a very dark day was approaching, a day when 
 he came home to find his wife gone gone to her 
 destruction and ruin, desecrating the sacred name of 
 wife, and leaving a curse, and a shame almost too 
 heavy to be borne by the husband and hapless 
 children. 
 
 She had chosen in preference to her home, and to 
 the purity of his love, the villainous overtures of her 
 husband's partner. The tall, handsome, brilliant 
 Herbert Clifford had come between her and those 
 who had loved her so tenderly. 
 
 With winning smiles the seducer had won her from
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 33 
 
 her vows, he had flattered her, offered her false words 
 of devotion. It was nothing to him that she was 
 giving up home, husband, and children. He did not 
 care if in the after years she cursed him for teaching 
 her to sin. She would be disgraced for ever, he knew 
 that, but the pleasure would be his, the penalty hers 
 alone. 
 
 She forgot the retribution to come. His fair 
 speeches made her forget to think of a day when the 
 villain would tire of his victim, and leave her alone to 
 face the cruel coldness of the world a woman branded 
 with shame as the faithless wife, the dishonoured 
 mother. 
 
 Lelia Gurney was fifteen years of age, and her 
 brother Tom thirteen, when the terrible trouble fell 
 upon them. Both were old enough to realise the 
 horror of their position. A certain sympathy was 
 bestowed on them for the loss of their mother, but it 
 was not the same kind of feeling which neighbours 
 show them when death has left children to mourn for 
 those they loved. There were no tender words, no 
 shake of the hand, no eyes dimmed with tears, and 
 no offers**of help were made to the lonely girl and 
 boy. 
 
 The people who had been such dear friends of their 
 mother were very sorry for them, but they kept aloof 
 themselves, and took care that their children did the 
 same. % 
 
 These slights wounded Lelia's and Tom's sensitive 
 natures most cruelly, and to avoid the gaze of the 
 curious they sat together alone, and only ventured 
 out when the stars shone and the darkness grew over 
 the great city. Their father's love for his erring wife 
 turned to the bitterest hate ; the channels of his heart, 
 through which such adoration had coursed, were 
 choked with anger, disappointment, and revenge. 
 He had been so devoted to her that the loss seemed 
 doubly cruel. She had deserted him after all the 
 sacrifices he had made for her happiness. 
 
 3
 
 34 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 He never attempted to trace the fugitives ; he lost 
 heart, health, and spirits. His business grew neg- 
 lected, he showed no more love for home or children, 
 he cared no longer how his affairs went. Was he not 
 disgraced in the eyes of all the world ? But there 
 was one feeling which remained a feeling of revenge, 
 if such it could be called. His wife had dishonoured 
 him and left him for another, but that other should 
 never be able to bestow his name upon her ; such as 
 she had become she should remain to the end of her 
 life. He would not divorce her, he would not give 
 her her freedom. She had brought shame on the 
 name of Gurnev, let her bear it and no other to her 
 death, and to this resolve he was steadfast. 
 
 Matters became worse, money came in slowly, 
 and then he called his girl and boy together and told 
 them he was a ruined man, that the home must be 
 broken up at once, that delay would only make things 
 worse for them all, and that Tom could not return to 
 Harrow, and that he must put out of his mind all 
 hopes of Oxford. 
 
 A few days later they bade good-bye to the only 
 home they had ever known, and began life again in 
 a country cottage, with their father and one servant. 
 Briarmill was a lonely, dull spot, far away from the 
 haunts of man. There they could eke out their fallen 
 fortunes unknown to those who had been their friends 
 in prosperous days. An old church, an ancient gram- 
 mar school, and a cluster of houses formed the small 
 town, if it could be called by such a name. The 
 inhabitants had known each other all their lives, and 
 were not prepared to venture on acquaintance with 
 strangers. This suited Charles Gurney, who had be- 
 come morose and gloomy sitting hours in the tiny 
 garden smoking, and never addressing a word to those 
 about him. Fortunately for his children the greatest 
 love existed between them, and they helped each other 
 to bear their troubles bravely. Tom was sent to the 
 grammar school by his father, but Leila was left to
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 35 
 
 her own devices until the evening-, when her brother 
 devoted his time to her education. 
 
 But after a while the story of his mother's sin 
 leaked out, and his schoolfellows chaffed him con- 
 tinually. Being proud and haughty, he resented 
 this treatment. One day the affair came to a crisis. 
 He turned on his tormentors, and fought for his 
 name and his honour. One boy in particular, the 
 bully of the school, came in for such treatment 
 at Tom's hands as he had never experienced before. 
 He did not appear at school again for a week, but 
 Charles Gurney was requested to remove his son 
 from the school. 
 
 For months after this Tom wandered about at 
 home utterly miserable and sick at heart. At last he 
 wrote to an old Harrow schoolfellow, whose father 
 was a Transvaal merchant and had started a store at 
 Malan, on the road from Durban to Pretoria. This 
 merchant knew the actual position of the youth, and 
 felt keenly for his sufferings. Thinking he would do 
 better away from surroundings which made him 
 dwell on his family disgrace, he offered to take him 
 as an assistant to his manager at the store, where 
 everything, from a drink to a pair of boots, was sold 
 to the Boers and travellers. 
 
 When Charles Gurney was asked if he could spare 
 his son he replied in the affirmative, but with such 
 careless grace was the consent given that Tom felt 
 his absence would be a pleasure rather than a pain 
 to his father. He knew why, for often in the glad 
 days he had proised Tom for his likeness to his 
 mother. "You're more like her," he would say, 
 "than your sister. Just her eyes and expression, 
 Tom, my boy. " 
 
 Was it any wonder that his father no longer wished 
 that ever-living picture to be daily before him, remind- 
 ing him of his beautiful wife, now worse than dead 
 to him ? 
 
 Before Tom sailed he made his sister a vow that,
 
 36 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 if he lived so long, he would come home when he 
 was older and take revenge on the man who brought 
 about the ruin of all their hopes and happiness. 
 
 After her brother had left Leila began to droop. 
 She became tired and weary of the awful monotony, 
 worse a thousand times since Tom had gone ; there 
 were no long walks for her now, all day she wan- 
 dered about alone. Her father never talked to her, 
 indeed he seemed to ignore her presence. At last she 
 grew so ill and weak as to attract the attention of the 
 doctor, who had been called in to see her father 
 upon two occasions. 
 
 "Gurney, if you don't send your daugher to the 
 seaside I am afraid she will go into a decline ; her 
 case seems to me critical. Can't you manage it? " 
 
 So spoke Dr. Burton one fine sunny day in early 
 June. 
 
 "It's no use telling me that," replied Charles Gur- 
 ney. "I've no one to send her with, and then it is 
 expensive, and my income is so very limited. I 
 can't do it, doctor," he continued irritably. 
 
 "I am afraid you will have to use your income to 
 bury her, then, very shortly, and as to having no one 
 to send her with, I can manage that. Let her go to 
 Sandcliffe ; it's a quiet place, and she can have rooms 
 with an old servant of mine who is married and has 
 a pretty cottage there. My wife and the little ones 
 went there two years ago ; everything is cheap, 
 clean, and comfortable. May I arrange that, Gur- 
 ney, so as to save you time and trouble? " 
 
 He pleaded hard for the delicate, lonely girl who 
 was fretting her life away in such uncongenial sur- 
 roundings. 
 
 "If you like to take the trouble, of course you 
 can. I sha'n't I should think there's too much of 
 the mother in the girl to make it desirable to send 
 her away alone to the seaside," he added ungra- 
 ciously. 
 
 So it was decided, and a few days later she was
 
 SLA VES OF THE SA WD US T. 37 
 
 enjoying the bracing air of Sandcliffe, happier in 
 mind, healthier in body. She had written to Tom 
 such a long letter, and sent him, with her love, five 
 pounds, just half the cheque put into her hands by 
 the good doctor's wife the day she left. 
 
 "There are lots of little things you may need, my 
 dear," Mrs. Burton had said, "and that will make 
 you less troublesome to your father." 
 
 The girl had blushed, stammered her thanks, and 
 shed a tear or two at the unexpected kindness, and 
 gone her way a way so free, so unfettered, that 
 health and spirits would soon return to the young 
 life, at least so the doctor and his wife hoped, for 
 they pitied her deeply. 
 
 But father and friends were soon to be forgotten. 
 Had not a bright star arisen, which lighted her path 
 and left all else in gloom ? It shone upon her mind, 
 her heart, her very inmost soul. She could see noth- 
 ing else, think of nothing but the radiant future before 
 her. 
 
 But the star might wane, and what of the darkness 
 then ? Would it not be terrible after the shining 
 light? 
 
 It shone she never dreamt of the waning.
 
 38 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 MAKING AN ENEMY. 
 
 THREE or four weeks had sped their course since 
 Leila had been rescued from the Nab's Head Rock. 
 To her it had been a very happy time, for Castelli 
 had been her daily companion. Somehow or other 
 he had found out the time of her strolls, and when- 
 ever possible had ridden over to Sandcliffe. It was 
 an acquaintance which grew unconsciously ; their 
 appreciation of each other's society had so far been 
 of a tacit nature. 
 
 She had been so lonely, so weary of her monot- 
 onous life that she had come to recognise him as a 
 delightful companion. It was so pleasant to have 
 someone to make her a consideration and to plan 
 pleasures to cheer at least some hours of the solitary 
 days. 
 
 One August morning he had ridden over on Rubi- 
 con, bringing with him Athol and Whanks. When 
 he arrived at Sandcliffe sands he dismounted, and 
 calling his dog, he dispatched Whanks with the 
 horses to the village inn, then he sauntered along the 
 beach to the trysting place. She was there before 
 him. Truly she was a picture fit for the canvas of 
 some great artist, he thought, as he advanced to- 
 wards her, with her plain dress of pure white, unre- 
 lieved by colour excepting a bunch of crimson roses 
 placed in her girdle, and her large hat. with the 
 golden curls just resting on her classic brow. 
 
 He thought her most beautiful as she came for- 
 ward to meet him, with a blush mantling her happy 
 face, and giving a lustre to her wondrous eyes.
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 39 
 
 He would like to have kissed her, but he con- 
 trolled the wish. 
 
 "Good-morning, Leila." He raised his hat, and 
 gave her one of his winning smiles, as he gazed at 
 her with fond admiration. "I have not kept you 
 waiting. I want a long chat with you to-day. 
 What do you say if we stroll on towards the Downs? 
 Are you tired ? " 
 
 "Oh, no," she replied gleefully, for was not the 
 prospect of a walk with him the one bliss of her 
 cheerless life. "But where is Rubicon," she added 
 suddenly. " Have you and Athol walked from Bay- 
 haven ? What a lovely creature he is. I love him 
 so much." 
 
 "Do you?" he asked, smiling again. "'Athol' 
 is lucky to have won your love, but you see he is 
 crab hunting now, and I fear does not appreciate the 
 honour as much as he should. My groom has Rubi- 
 con up at the inn. I wanted to be free to-day. In 
 the meantime he will have a feed of corn before his 
 journey home." 
 
 Together on the shingly beach, under the steep 
 rugged cliffs they sauntered, he holding her hand for 
 fear she slfbuld trip. Suddenly he paused. 
 
 "Leila, let us sit down." There was something 
 unusual in his tone, and she looked up into his face. 
 She saw then- how grave he was. They sat on a 
 flat water-worn stone, and then he explained to her 
 very gently who he was, and his occupation. She 
 listened attentively, and he was delighted to find 
 that her smile did not fade, that no disappointment 
 or disgust overshadowed her face. When he ceased 
 speaking she replied, 
 
 " How clever you must be to ride in a circus. I 
 have been to several, but not since I grew up. May 
 I come to Bayhaven and see the circus there, and 
 all your horses? I should so enjoy it," she added 
 with emphasis. 
 
 "Some day, Leila. You must wait just a little
 
 40 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 
 
 while. You see there is no train to bring you home. 
 It must be some time when I can drive you back. 
 Would you like that ? " 
 
 " Yes," she answered quietly. 
 
 His voice sounded like music to her ears, so rich, 
 so gentle, yet so firm and kind. 
 
 " Leila," he continued, " I have grown very fond 
 of you, very fond, and knowing that I belong to a 
 circus, do you think you could return me some affec- 
 tion, or would my profession debar me from all such 
 hope? All my future happiness depends upon your 
 reply. In society, I know, we are counted as out- 
 casts, but we have hearts, all the same, and can love 
 despite the sawdust and the ring." 
 
 He stopped speaking and looked to see what effect 
 his words had upon his lovely companion. He 
 showed none of the nervousness of an ardent love. 
 He waited her reply calmly, and with a quiet dignity 
 worthy of a king. 
 
 She did not answer for a moment, but her cheeks 
 grew crimson, and she toyed restlessly wjth some 
 stones she had picked up whilst he was speaking. 
 
 "There is nothing wrong in being engaged in a 
 circus, is there?" she asked archly. "I should like 
 it beyond anything. I love horses and riding, but," 
 and she became very shy, " I do like you very, very 
 much." 
 
 He kissed her as she spoke, and she did not 
 resist it. 
 
 "Can you change 'like' into 'love,' Leila? "he 
 asked. " That is what I want to know." 
 
 "Yes," she answered, getting still more confused, 
 "but " 
 
 "But what, my beauty?" he asked, putting his 
 arm around her and drawing her closer to him. 
 
 " There's Tom," she added. " I always tell Tom 
 everything. You know how I love him," she said 
 simply. 
 
 He had foreseen this difficulty and had his reply 
 ready.
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 41 
 
 "Don't you think Tom would be glad to hear you 
 were comfortably married? Do you not suppose it 
 would be a great anxiety off his mind to know his 
 sister was happy ? Leila, he would advise you to 
 marry the man you love if he were here. That 
 should be sufficient guide for you." 
 
 'But I should like to ask him before I decide to 
 return your love. I must write to Tom, indeed I 
 must." 
 
 " Leila, dearest Leila, won't you be my wife, and 
 let me care for you and love you? It will be time 
 enough to tell Tom and your father when we are 
 man and wife." 
 
 She shook her head gravely. 
 
 " It will not do. I could not deceive Tom for all 
 the world." 
 
 "Is that your determination?" he asked her 
 severely. 
 
 She noticed the change in his voice, but she held 
 firmly to her desire. 
 
 "Yes, I am quite determined, quite. I can do 
 nothing without Tom's advice." 
 
 "So you will risk my happiness and yours for the 
 sake of a boy's opinion. He cannot know what is 
 best for you. Once more, my darling, will you be 
 my wife?" 
 
 " If Tom says 'Yes,' " she replied resolutely. 
 
 He knew she was too fond of him to withstand his 
 offer very long. He must marry her before her 
 brother or father got any idea of the affair or he felt 
 sure she would never be his wife at all. He must 
 use diplomacy in the matter at once or he would 
 lose the chance within his grasp. 
 
 " So you won't trust me,'' he replied sternly, get- 
 ting up from his seat. " If you loved me as I love 
 you no one in the world would stand between us. 
 I am terribly hurt, Leila. All the joy has gone out 
 of my life." 
 
 "Don't say that, Emilio, please don't," and she
 
 42 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 rose and stood by his side. " Don't be vexed with 
 me, but I love Tom so much." 
 
 " Better than you do me, that is plain enough. 
 Under those conditions we had better say good- 
 bye." 
 
 He turned and faced her. She saw how white 
 and stern he looked, and she already repented of her 
 words. 
 
 "Is it to be good-bye?" he repeated, somewhat 
 gently. "Is it, Leila? " 
 
 "No," she added sadly, "no, not good-bye. I 
 could not bear that ; it would kill me. Don't go. 
 Emilk), forgive me." 
 
 He kissed her again and again, and in the first 
 flush of her youthful love she promised to keep Tom 
 and her father in ignorance of her engagement. 
 
 She was so inexperienced, so afraid of losing the 
 only man who had ever loved her, and there was no 
 loving motherly hand to guide her, no one to bid her 
 beware. 
 
 "We will make this spot a rendezvous for the 
 next few days, Leila. I do not think it would be 
 wise for me to go to Green's cottage to see you, but 
 my man can bring you messages and my letters to 
 you ; the replies you can return by him. It is best 
 to arrange that, then there will be no curiosity at 
 the post office* For the present our arrangements 
 must be kept dark, for your sake, do you understand 
 me ? " 
 
 "Yes, "she replied hesitatingly ; "but whycannot 
 you call on me? My cousin 'sfianci always came to 
 dinner and tea, and spent long evenings with her, 
 and, anyhow, your man will know me if he comes 
 to the house." 
 
 "Your cousin did not live alone, darling, as you 
 do, and as for my man, well, he will be sworn to 
 secrecy. He will have full directions to ask for you 
 and come straight up into your sitting-room. Do 
 not fear him, he is safe enough; but do not offer
 
 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 
 
 43 
 
 him beer or wine on any account, for Whanks is too 
 fond of his glass." 
 
 " Whanks ! what a name ! " 
 
 He told her the story of the name Whanks, and 
 she sighed and determined to be his friend even 
 before she had seen him. 
 
 "Well, Lelia, the time goes on, I must be off. 
 There's an afternoon performance and I am due at 
 the circus at half-past two. Good-bye, my darling, 
 my pet ! Kiss me Lelia ; you are mine forever." 
 
 What a glorious light came into his dark eyes ! 
 What rapture was there as he spoke so tenderly and 
 kindly 1 How happy she was ! She forgot the de- 
 ception, the vile secrecy imposed upon her. Was 
 not his love all the world to her ? What was there 
 she would not have done to win his smile? 
 
 "Good-bye, Emilio. Will you take this rose and 
 wear it for my sake?" She pulled the only white 
 one she had from among the crimson. " I love 
 white roses, they are my favourite flowers. I will 
 give or send you one every day. W r ill you wear it, 
 dear ? " 
 
 "Always, darling. Every night when I go into 
 the ring I will Mtear your love token. The pure rose, 
 Leila, shall remind me of your promise to-day. I 
 will use this one to-night ; it is but a bud, so it will 
 not fade so quickly as would the open flower, and 
 to-morrow you will send me another is that so ? " 
 
 "Yes, every day until the months of roses are 
 over. " 
 
 "By that time I hope I shall have claimed my 
 own white rose," and he kissed her most affection- 
 ately. 
 
 He took the flower and went his way. 
 
 Her love was in the beauty of its prime, her joy 
 ecstatic. The present and the future were crowned 
 with glorious hopes, and pictured with fond de- 
 light. 
 
 But hopes are sometimes like butterflies, that rise
 
 44 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 
 
 on the breath of fancy whenever the sunbeams lure 
 them. 
 
 Signer Emilio Castelli was happy in his love for 
 Leila Gurney. He had been engaged to her nearly a 
 fortnight, during which time he and Whanks had paid 
 many visits to Sandcliffe. It wanted nearly half an 
 hour before the evening performance, but Castelli had 
 gone to the circus early to see one of his valuable 
 horses which was a little out of condition. He was 
 sitting in a small office, which he shared with two 
 other trainers, thinking of Leila. Outside there was 
 heard horses' feet, and a general running to and fro, 
 then an angry voice was raised and oaths fell plenti- 
 fully, a crack of a whip and a boy's cry of pain. 
 Castelli was used to such things, and they did not 
 dispel his thoughts ; he was in no hurry, he was 
 already dressed for the ring with a white rosebud 
 in his coat. 
 
 Whilst he was thinking of Leila, "Cleo," the cele- 
 brated tight-rope artiste, was wondering why Castelli 
 had changed so much towards her, and to-night she 
 had determined to find out. She sat on the bare 
 wooden table in a dressing-room allotted to her and 
 a female acrobat. Her partner's "turn" did not 
 come on till late, so Cleo had the room to herself. 
 
 She was a fine, handsome woman, about twenty- 
 five years of age ; her Spanish blood showed in her 
 rich dark complexion and great lustrous eyes. In 
 figure and face she was considered beautiful, whilst 
 her wit and repartee had made her a great favourite 
 in the circus. 
 
 Bayhaven was partial to equestrian performances, 
 and the circus proprietor had put up a temporary 
 building for the season, and to it flocked both resi- 
 dents and visitors. 
 
 Cleo had attracted a great deal of attention, and her 
 "show" had been one of the successes of the season. 
 Three years before, she had met Castelli in a circus in 
 Liverpool. She fell desperately in love with him, and
 
 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 45 
 
 for a time he seemed to return it, as she thought, for he 
 humoured her fancies and spent much time in her 
 company. But when the circus closed for the season, 
 and they each went to new engagements, she was 
 bitterly disappointed that he did not ask her to be his 
 wife. Castelli had never dreamt of marrying the 
 "greatest tight-rope walker in Europe." She was 
 beautiful, it was true, but Vulgar, coarse, and passion- 
 ate, and his dreams were of a lady, gentle and 
 refined. 
 
 Cleo threw a long black cloak, lined with fur, over 
 her bespangled tights, and then crossed the sawdust- 
 spread passage to Castelli's room. In answer to his 
 response she opened the door. 
 
 "Halloa, Castelli, all alone? Did you ever feel 
 such infernal draughts as there are in this place? 
 Matchbox partitions, nothing but matchbox," and she 
 closed the door behind her. "My gracious! what 
 is that? " she exclaimed. " Why, if it ain't a dog 
 tied to the leg of the table ! Is that for me, Castelli ? 
 What a little sight to be sure ! Oh, I suppose it is 
 one ofZaro's performing dogs, is it ?" 
 
 "No, it's mine," replied Castelli, not too well 
 pleased at being disturbed. 
 
 "Yours, thaf fluffy white thing where's Athol 
 then ! " 
 
 "At home," he replied curtly. 
 
 "I say, Castelli, guess what I have got for you." 
 
 " I can't guess. What a fool you are, Cleo ? " 
 
 "Oh, that's the tone, is it? You want to be off 
 with the old love, do you, for the new?" and she 
 laughed impudently. 
 
 She had been sure there was somebody else held 
 in preference to her, for Castelli had worn the same 
 kind of flower in his buttonhole every night. She 
 knew some lady must be the donor. 
 
 "Be quiet," he exclaimed angrily ; "you're not 
 the old love, anyhow, and I'm hanged if you are the 
 new ! "
 
 46 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 "Oh, so there is a new, is there ? That's the 
 game ! Who's the girl ? " 
 
 Her eyes had become more brilliant as she spoke, 
 and Castelli tried to turn the subject off with a joke. 
 
 " Well, we won't quarrel," she said, assuming' her 
 natural tone, "will we, dear ? Now, will you wear 
 this to please me to-night?" and she took from under 
 her cloak a buttonhole of exotic flowers. " They 
 will suit you better than that white rose." 
 
 She held it towards him, but he refused to take it 
 from her. 
 
 " I shall wear the one I have, and none other," he 
 said. 
 
 In a moment, like a flash of fire, her passion and 
 indignation burst forth. 
 
 "Will you? I vow you sha'n't," and she stepped 
 close up to him, quivering in every limb with violent 
 excitement. Before he was aware she had caught 
 hold of his coat in her eager desire to snatch the 
 flower from its place. In an instant he resisted her 
 with all his great physical power and flung her from 
 him. 
 
 "What she-cat gave you those roses?" she 
 screamed. "You've been glad enough to wear my 
 flowers before to-night. I've the right to know who 
 gave you the white rose tell me, do you hear, you 
 treacherous man ? " Her breath came fast and strong 
 as she gasped: "Answer me do you understand 
 me, Castelli ? " 
 
 Her face was distorted, defiant, and maddened 
 with rage ; it seemed as if the very devil was before 
 him. The flowers she had brought had fallen to the 
 ground. He saw them lying there in all their deli- 
 cate beauty, but ruthlessly he put out his foot and 
 crushed the petals into a shapeless mass. 
 
 " There are your flowers, and if you don't get out 
 of this room I'll thrash you as I would a hound. Get 
 out, or by heaven I'll keep my word ! " 
 
 "You villain! You hypocrite ! You "
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 47 
 
 But further conversation was put a stop to by the 
 bell ringing for the first turn. He put her out of his 
 way as if she were a dog, and taking up his long 
 whip from the table, went into the ring, smiling as 
 he did so. 
 
 Cleo, left alone, foiled, baffled, and exhausted, 
 devoured and pained by jealousy, was convinced 
 that her doubts were right, and that Castelli, the only 
 man she loved, had passed her by for another. But 
 how could she prove it ? That was the difficulty. 
 Sauntering to her room, she saw Whanks standing 
 helping the grooms to get ready Castelli's performing 
 horses. In a moment an idea struck her. If she 
 could only get Whanks on her side the rest would be 
 easy enough. Her passion was gone now, but her 
 eyes still retained their bright steely look, as if a 
 hidden revenge was lurking behind her artificial 
 smile. 
 
 She went up to Whanks softly and asked, 
 
 " Whanks, shall you be busy to-morrow?" 
 
 " Depends on the master, miss. I might have a 
 minute or so to spare. I ain't sure.'' 
 
 " I wish you would come round to my place. I 
 want a job done to some rope. Can you come, do 
 you think ? " * . 
 
 " I'll do my best, miss, and leastways I can ask 
 the master, when he comes out of the ring after the 
 horses has performed, and let you know what time 
 he can best spare me, miss." 
 
 Whanks had often been allowed by Castelli to do 
 odd jobs for Cleo, and so the request did not astonish 
 him. 
 
 " Don't trouble to ask your master, Whanks. I'd 
 rather you did not. Just run round to me after 
 morning rehearsal if you can." 
 
 " Right you are, miss. I'll try and come as nigh 
 to one o'clock as I can," and the man touched his 
 hat respectfully. 
 
 Castelli passed her as he left the ring, but he never
 
 48 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 
 
 glanced at her, and the white rose was still in his 
 coat. 
 
 " To-morrow, wait until to-morrow," she mur- 
 mured, " and I'll find out his game. Trust me for 
 that. I'm not quite the fool he takes me for." 
 
 She had planned her revenge.
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 49 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 ENVY AND HATRED. 
 
 A WEEK had passed. Cleo had been very cautious 
 in all her plans. Whanks had been enticed to her 
 rooms under various pretexts. She had given him 
 sufficient to drink, but not enough to make him 
 intoxicated, for had that occurred she knew that his 
 master would question him, and that would ill suit 
 her purpose. 
 
 To Castelli she was particularly attentive, meet- 
 ing him with a smile, and being more gracious than 
 usual ; neither by tone nor manner did she betray 
 that he had offended her. 
 
 But the time was passing, and every day her 
 chances of seeing Whanks alone grew less, as 
 Castelli might find out his visits, then the game 
 would be up. 
 
 One afternoon she sent for Whanks, and deter- 
 mined it should be a final visit. She gave him 
 small quantities of whisky and water, not much at 
 a time, but little by little, which had the effect of 
 making him muddled, yet he was sufficiently sober 
 to understand her questions and to give coherent 
 replies. 
 
 When he was off his guard she began with great 
 dexterity to find out all the particulars she wished to 
 know regarding Castelli. 
 
 " You're away a good deal from the rehearsals 
 lately, Whanks ; I suppose you are engaged in the 
 stables more ? " 
 
 " Yes, I has more business out of the circus 
 altogether now, very particular for the master. I 
 
 4
 
 50 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 
 
 haven't time to go into the stables neither," added 
 the man, with an air of grandeur. 
 
 " It's nice to be trusted with particular 'bis' for 
 the master; it shows he relies on you," she replied 
 cunningly. 
 
 "Ay, he trusts me fast enough. Ah, I know a 
 thing or two, bless your heart, I know a thing or 
 two ! " and he laughed stupidly. 
 
 " I daresay you know a good many things, 
 Whanks," she responded gently. 
 
 She tried to appear unconcerned, in case her 
 curiosity should become too pointed. 
 
 " I rather think I do, Miss Cleo. Ay, the master 
 is a funny one," he continued, half drowsily, " very 
 funny. He's on with one, and then another, and 
 I've enough to do going his errints. " 
 
 " You have to go a long way for him, I suppose ? " 
 she asked with skilful indifference. 
 
 " Well, I do now and again." 
 
 Although his comprehension was somewhat 
 dulled, he retained sufficient control over himself 
 to be a little on his guard. 
 
 Cleo saw this, and she refilled his glass. Another 
 drink would bring him up to the point. As she 
 anticipated, he became more talkative after the last 
 and stronger glass of whisky. 
 
 " Yes, I has to go to Sandcliffe most days when 
 the master don't go hisself. First there's a dog to be 
 took, then a hoss for an hour or two, then a book, 
 or hosses and letters and messages." He paused 
 after so long a speech, looking dazed, and quite un- 
 conscious that he had betrayed his master's secret. 
 
 " Who do you take these things to, W'hanks? I 
 suppose some gentleman friend ? I know Castelli 
 has friends in the neighbourhood." 
 
 The latter part of her sentence was purely a make 
 up, but it answered her purpose to draw the man 
 out to say more. 
 
 " Ah, that's telling who it is ; there ain't much of
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 51 
 
 the gentleman in the business ; but I shan't split. 
 I promised master I would not, and I won't." 
 
 He rose to go, standing with his hand on the back 
 of the chair to steady himself. 
 
 " I must be off, Miss Cleo. I've got the hosses 
 to see about. If I'd only my aunt's money I'd never 
 look after another blessed hoss. " 
 
 Cleo smiled. She had gained all the information 
 she needed, and she did not press him to remain ; 
 indeed it was best that he should get clear out of her 
 rooms without delay. 
 
 Partially satisfied with her interview with Whanks, 
 there was still much more to find out, and she 
 resolved to go over to Sandcliffe to see if she could 
 discover anything for herself. 
 
 Accordingly the next day she set off by the morn- 
 ing coach, and after partaking of some refreshment 
 at the inn, she started up the village. As she passed 
 a small shop she saw a fisherman standing at the 
 door with a kibsey full of fresh shrimps. 
 
 " Good morning," she said kindly, and the rnan 
 looked round with astonishment to see such a 
 handsome woman in the remote village. Her attire 
 was elegant, she must be some one very grand, he 
 thought, so he touched his hat respectfully and 
 replied, 
 
 " Good morning, my lady; beautiful weather we 
 are having now." 
 
 " Beautiful," she added, " and this place looks so 
 lovely I cannot think why more people don't come 
 to see it." 
 
 "Are you staying here, lady?" asked the man 
 with interest. 
 
 " No. unfortunately, I am not. I came over this 
 morning in the coach just to see the place. I have 
 been staying in Bayhaven. You don't often get 
 visitors here, I suppose ? " she said unaffectedly. 
 
 "Not often, lady ; it's agin us, having no trains. 
 Folks don't care about coming in the coach. It's
 
 5 2 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 ackard when there's children and luggage. No, we 
 sha'n't hope to do much till we gits the rail. They've 
 talked of that a long time, but there it ends. Let me 
 see," added the man, taking off his hat and putting 
 it on again dubiously, " we has one visitor here, of 
 course, a young lady lodging up at Green's Cottages 
 a very pretty lass she is too, quite a lady, so they 
 says. I takes shrimps up there most days." 
 
 "Oh, well, I hope you will soon get the line here, 
 and then plenty of people will come." 
 
 As she spoke she pressed a shilling into his hand. 
 
 He thanked her profoundly, and she turned to go, 
 hut suddenly she inquired carelessly, 
 
 " Where are Green's Cottages? Far from here ? " 
 
 "There they lies, lady. Them there white ones on 
 the slope of the hill. The prettiest houses in the 
 place to my thinking." 
 
 "Thank you. Good-day." 
 
 The man watched her up the hill, and then he went 
 into the back parlour behind the shop, and informed 
 his wife of the bit of news. 
 
 " She was grand enough dressed, Marier Ann," he 
 said, ' ; but I can't help thinking as she was after some- 
 body or something. Maybe I'm wrong, but methinks 
 I'm on the right track. I wonder if she's aught to do 
 with the young lady up at the Cottages. There's 
 summit going on." 
 
 As his faithful spouse could not enlighten him, he 
 started off with his shrimps, telling the story of the 
 lady at every house he called. 
 
 Cleo turned down a narrow path which was cut 
 out of the side of the cliffs, and walked on to see if 
 anyone was on the beach in the vicinity of the Cot- 
 tages. She went on for some way, when a horse in 
 the distance arrested her attention. She stopped 
 suddenly, and putting up one hand to shade her eyes, 
 she scanned it closely. 
 
 "That's ' Fleetfoot,'" she said- to herself, " and the 
 man on him is none other than Castelli. It's he sure
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 53 
 
 enough," she argued. " Now I will watch the farce 
 out at a safe distance." 
 
 She returned up the narrow path and regained the 
 road. He must not see her, whatever came to pass. 
 From where she was she could observe without being' 
 seen. She sat down and waited. 
 
 She heard the horse gallop past on the sand be- 
 neath. She heard Castelli's voice urging the animal 
 on. When they had passed she rose up quickly to 
 be sure it was he. One glance sufficed to tell her 
 that her suspicions were confirmed. 
 
 Fora moment she felt inclined to call out loudly after 
 him, but she refrained. She would not be rash or 
 indiscreet, but abide her time. Later she went to- 
 wards the Cottages, and when close to them she saw 
 a tall, delicate looking girl coming in the opposite 
 direction. No doubt this was the lady come from 
 her meeting with Castelli. Probably she had reached 
 the road by another path up the cliffs. 
 
 As Cleo passed her she noticed how beautiful the 
 girl was, with her simple gown of pink cotton, re- 
 lieved with bunches of white roses at her throat and 
 waist. She knew now where the flowers came from 
 each evening for Castelli. Under one arm she carried 
 a small dog, thesilver bells on his collar tinkling as 
 they passed ; she was sure it was the same animal 
 that Castelli had tied to the leg of his table. 
 
 Cleo turned back after the girl. She must know 
 which cottage was the home of Castelli's sweetheart. 
 
 "Oh, it's the house with the white roses, is it?" 
 she said to herself. "Ah, my lady, you won't go 
 on in your fool's paradise, if I can help it, very long. 
 So, you think Castelli an angel, no doubt ; I think he 
 is a devil yes, a devil," she repeated loudly. 
 
 On her way home she decided to let Castelli know 
 she had found him out ; at the same time she would 
 see what persuasion would effect before speaking her 
 mind to him. 
 
 On the evening of the day on which she had visited
 
 54 
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 Sandcliffe she walked unceremoniously to his room. 
 
 "What dojyou want ? " he said somewhat curtly. 
 "I'm really very busy to-night." 
 
 "Have you not time to speak to me?" she asked 
 quickly ; "you used to like a chat with me. You're 
 strangely altered, Emilio. I don't believe you care 
 for me one little bit now, do you?" 
 
 Her voice was gentle and tender. She wanted to 
 hear from his own lips whether he loved her or not, 
 and now was her opportunity. 
 
 "I always liked you," he answered evasively, 
 "but we can't always be chatting ; it is quite absurd 
 to expect it." 
 
 "I believe you love someone else," she remarked, 
 going to the point at once. 
 
 "There is no reason why I should not," he an- 
 swered drily. " I suppose I am free to do that if I 
 like ? " 
 
 "No, you're not free after making a fool of me," 
 she answered hotly. "You've always led me on to 
 suppose I should be your wife, and now you chuck 
 me off. If you're in love with anyone else, you are 
 a liar and a hypocrite ! " 
 
 She was losing her temper, for she saw that her 
 sweetness had no effect upon him. 
 
 Castelli was anxious for Cleo to leave him, and he 
 moved up and down the room restlessly. At last he 
 said, 
 
 "It's no use you standing there calling me foul 
 names. If I am in love it's nothing to you, and as 
 to you ever being my wife, I would not marry you 
 if there wasn't another woman in the world. 1 never 
 intended to do so, I never shall, and once more I tell 
 you I am busy." 
 
 "Oh, you weren't too busy to go to Sandcliffe this 
 morning, were you?" she replied angrily. "You 
 didn't know I saw you, did you ? But you see, I did, 
 and a nice fool you're making of the girl," she added 
 with scorn. .
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 55 
 
 His face grew white with suppressed passion as he 
 answered, 
 
 "How dare you spy upon my actions? How 
 dare you address me? It's nothing to you where I 
 go. I suppose I can ride to Sandcliffe if I choose ? " 
 
 "So can I, and 1 mean to go again, and just as 
 often as I like, without your permission." 
 
 "Go to blazes if you like, but hold your vicious 
 tongue or I will make you." 
 
 ' ' Oh, you want to shut me up, do you ? You're 
 afraid I've found out too much. Anyway, I've seen 
 the lady and the roses and the dog, and she lives in 
 a cottage on the hill. By Jove ! it is quite a romance 
 for the circus. Fancy a girl like that marrying a 
 ringmaster ! I wonder if she knows how you have 
 led other women on, and how you swear and curse. 
 It's a pity such a little innocent should marry you," 
 she added mockingly. 
 
 Castelli's passion was terrible to behold. For a 
 moment he could not speak. 
 
 "You devil!" he hissed, " you tell me I've led other 
 women on. You lie, you scurrilous wretch ! Unsay 
 what you have said, or by heaven I'll shake your life 
 out of you ! " 
 
 " You daren't. You coward, to threaten a woman ! 
 I wish the dear^young lady was here," she replied 
 tauntingly. "I wonder what she would think of you. 
 It's a pity you don't show yourself in your true 
 colours." 
 
 In a moment, before she was aware, he grasped 
 her roughly by the arm and shook her fiercely several 
 times. 
 
 " Now, then, I'll stand no more of your nonsense. 
 I've had a devilish sight too much of it already." 
 
 He turned in his anger and glanced hurriedly round 
 as if in search for his whip. 
 
 All the fury of her nature was aroused. She did 
 not plead for mercy, but stood her ground bravely. 
 He held her so tightly that she could not escape from
 
 56 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 his grasp, but with her disengaged hand she fought 
 him with all her strength. 
 
 " I'll teach you to shake me ! " she panted. " You 
 brute, you devil ! " and she struggled violently to free 
 herself. 
 
 But that was impossible. He dragged her easily 
 across the room, resistance was useless, nearer and 
 nearer to the chair where the thin riding-whip was 
 lying. He had it within his grasp, when the door 
 opened suddenly and a voice called, 
 
 " Ten minutes to nine, sir. The horses are ready 
 for the ring, sir." 
 
 Whanks could say nothing else. He was fairly 
 frightened out of his few senses. 
 
 " Don't stand there, you fool, gaping at me," said 
 Castelli, as he flung down the whip. " I daresay 
 you're in this confounded business. I shall find it 
 out, and then we'll see who is master." 
 
 He flung Cleo into a chair, and hastened into the 
 ring, followed by Whanks. A roar of applause 
 greeted Castelli's appearance. 
 
 His smile was as fascinating as usual. He looked 
 just as dignified, just as calm as ever. The scene 
 with Cleo had not in the least disturbed his serenity 
 before the public. 
 
 Cleo was faint and exhausted with her struggle. 
 Castelli's fingers had left an ugly bruise on her arm, 
 which was swelling and looking purple and blue. 
 It was a good thing her " show " had been one of the 
 first. She could never have faced the people with 
 those hideous dark contused spots, growing more 
 painful every moment. 
 
 She went to her dressing-room and divested her- 
 self of her stage attire, and then sat down almost too 
 weary to think. She heard the applause as Castelli 
 left the ring. She heard the horses gallop past to 
 their stalls, and-a wild gleam came into her eyes. 
 She \vas recovering her spirits, and with them her 
 thirst for revenge. She must tip Whanks to hold
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 57 
 
 his tongue. It would be the most cruel degradation 
 to her should the recital of her treatment become 
 the topic of conversation amongst the grooms and 
 artistes in the circus. This being accomplished to 
 her satisfaction, she hastened to her apartments, but 
 on her way thither she called to order a carriage 
 and pair to drive her over to Sandcliffe at ten o'clock 
 the next morning. 
 
 She had planned to rob Castelli of his bride. 
 
 The following morning Leila Gurney was stand- 
 ing watching the scudding, restless clouds. The 
 night had been stormy, but the morning was balmy, 
 with fitful gleams of sunshine. Truly the world 
 was in a joyful mood. Leila shared this great natu- 
 ral happiness, for was not her life like the summer, 
 full of a thousand tender hopes, since the man she 
 loved had sought and won her heart? Had he not 
 charmed away despondency and misery from her 
 life, and given in its stead promised joy and peace? 
 With what keen delight she looked forward to his 
 coming again on the morrow. She would soon 
 listen to his voice, that voice she loved, almost to 
 her as tender as the ringdove's cooing and as soothing 
 as lute, to the wearied ear at eventide. 
 
 She turned from the window and spoke to her dog 
 his gift. " Marcus, shall we go down to the sea? 
 Marcus, your master will be here to-morrow to see 
 us, and we are going driving, doggie," and she picked 
 him up and kissed him passionately. 
 
 A wag of the fluffy tail and a few licks was the 
 dog's mute answer. 
 
 " Let me put on your collar, Marcus, with the 
 pretty bells," and she jingled the collar in the air. 
 
 " A lady to see you, miss," announced the land- 
 lady somewhat curiously. 
 
 " To see me /> There must be some mistake, I 
 have no friends here." 
 
 " It's no mistake, Miss Gurney," answered a kindly 
 voice ; " I have called upon particular business."
 
 5 8 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 For a moment Leila thought it was some messenger 
 from her mother, and her face flushed painfully. 
 Leila asked her to be seated, meanwhile admiring 
 the handsome, elegantly dressed woman, so different 
 in appearance and manner to the ladies she had ever 
 known. 
 
 " I wonder who she can be? " was her mental re- 
 joinder. Poor lonely Leila had no friends to come 
 dropping in for a cup of tea, and the advent of a 
 stranger caused her to be painfully nervous. She 
 could not speak for the throbbing of her heart. 
 
 "I must apologise for calling," began the lady, 
 " but I happened to hear by chance that you are 
 here alone and without your friends, and as you are, I 
 find, slipping without knowing it into a great danger, 
 I have come to warn you, to speak to you as one 
 lady should to another. If what I hear is correct, I 
 believe you are engaged to be married to Sign or 
 Emilio Castelli, the equestrian manager of the circus 
 now in Bayhaven. Is it so ? " 
 
 She paused, and Leila sank down on the sofa, 
 clutching the dog against her as if to still the beating 
 of her heart 
 
 " Yes, it is quite true ; I am engaged to him, I am 
 proud to say. But I do not wish to discuss the matter 
 with a stranger ; thank you all the same," she added 
 more gently, as if ashamed of her brusqueness. 
 
 " Now, listen to me, my dear." Leila winced at 
 the familiarity. " You're going to marry this man, 
 and you don't know a thing about him. He is very 
 handsome, and you are smitten, but if you knew as 
 much as I do about him you'd thank me to the last 
 day of your life for coming here. If you value your 
 happiness, have nothing to do with Emilio Castelli. 
 There, I have at least done my duty in warning you 
 no Christian could do more. Let me tell you that 
 I know his character perhaps the best of anyone in 
 the world." 
 
 " I don't want to hear anything about him," Leila
 
 SLAVES OP THE SAWDUST. 
 
 59 
 
 replied hotly. " I love him, and intend to marry 
 him, \vhatever_yow may say against him." 
 
 " You'd rather not hear what I have to say. For 
 love of this man you'd rather risk all your future 
 you'll repent of your choice when it is too late. I 
 tell you Castelli has been engaged to heaps of women, 
 that his character doesn't stand too high, and he has 
 had a sweetheart in every town the circus has ever 
 visited. He is a liar, a hypocrite, and unprincipled ! 
 And yet, rather than listen to me, you'd trust your 
 life to his keeping ! " 
 
 " I would," answered Leila determinedly. " I 
 don't suppose you are in a position to judge much 
 about him ? " 
 
 "Oh, you mistrust me, do you? But you seel 
 happen to be Cleo, the only Cleo ' Equilibrist/ 
 walker, and Castelli and I have met constantly these 
 three years. And who should know him better than 
 I do? I was actually engaged to him, until a few 
 \veeks ago, when he threw me off like a hound" 
 she paused " and you're the new love." 
 
 "I do not believe a word you've said," replied 
 Leila gravely. 
 
 She was terribly astonished, but her infatuation was 
 so intense that she never for one moment believed 
 the speaker. 
 
 "You doubt me, do you, Miss Gurney ? " said Cleo, 
 losing her temper. "This is all I get for troubling 
 myself on your behalf. I'd rather die than let any 
 woman I know marry that man with my consent." 
 
 " I haven't asked your consent," said Leila quietly, 
 although she could hardly speak for agitation. "I 
 love him with all my heart nothing can part us 
 now." 
 
 "Oh, can't it?" replied Cleo scornfully. "Sup- 
 pose I tell you that /love him, and have done so for 
 years. To me he has been the one joy of my life. 
 Will you take another woman's lover ? Is that square 
 and honest ? "
 
 60 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 
 
 "You say you love him, and yet you warn me 
 against the same privilege," said Leila. "If you 
 love him, surely I may do the same. If he is good 
 for you, he is for me.'' 
 
 Cleo saw she had let the ground go from under her 
 argument, that the girl was as sharp as she was, but 
 she still held tenaciously to her purpose. 
 
 "Oh, I thought you were a lady. I never profess 
 to be one," she added with a sneer. " Idid not know 
 the racehorse would eat with the sow." 
 
 "I am satisfied," said Leila, "with my choice. 
 He does not love you, for now I remember he did 
 speak of you, and I have heard all about the 'dis- 
 agreement between you.'" 
 
 Cleo turned white. Her fury rose. She was almost 
 mad with passion. She jumped up from her chair 
 and exclaimed excitedly, 
 
 "You dare to sit there and insult me! He has 
 told you all about me, has he ? Well, it's my turn 
 now. I daresay a chit of a girl like you don't know 
 much of circus life. To you, I suppose, it's all gilt, 
 music, clowns, horses, and applause. Fun for such 
 as you, that's what the paying public see. None of 
 you would like to see things as they are. It would 
 distress your fine nerves too much, and disturb your 
 comfort. It's such men as Castelli that make the 
 circus a hell. He " 
 
 "I won't hear any more about him," replied Leila, 
 now angry. " I trust him thoroughly. Say no more, 
 if you please." 
 
 "I won't be silent," said Cleo, interrupting her. 
 " I came here to have my say, and have it I will. 
 Emilio Castelli," she continued, " is a cruel brute. It's 
 a bad day for horse or girl when they fall into his 
 way. Ah, you don't know the secrets behind the 
 scenes, how horses are thrashed until they drop ex- 
 hausted in the ring, and your lover Castelli is more 
 pitiless than the rest. Ask Mdlle. Donis, whom he 
 trained, what he's like. She'll tell you how he made
 
 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 6 1 
 
 her life a curse, a burden. How one day in Leeds, 
 in my presence, he lashed her with his whip for bad 
 'trick riding,' and for two long hours kept her at it, 
 bruised, bleeding, and sobbing, and then when she 
 dismounted, kicked her in the ring yes, kicked her. 
 That's how he treats women. That's how he'll treat 
 you. He knows no mercy. He's fierce and cruel. 
 You'll get more of the whip than love, more curses 
 than blessings, and more kicks than kisses, "she added 
 with intense passion. 
 
 "You are telling me untruths," said Leila curtly. 
 " Why should he be so cruel.? " 
 
 "It's the way with some in our profession. Cas- 
 telli is the biggest brute I have ever come across. I 
 wish you luck with him." 
 
 "Be good enough tg leave this room. I have no 
 wish to hear more. Go at once," exclaimed Leila, 
 standing up, facing her visitor steadily. "Be good 
 enough to leave me. I shall marry whom I choose. 
 Your visit to me has not influenced me in the 
 least." 
 
 She went to the door and held it open. 
 
 Cleo saw it would be fruitless to remain, but she 
 intended to play another scene before the curtain 
 dropped upon her expedition. 
 
 " I'll go out of your room, never fear, but the day 
 will come when you will repent of your bargain, 
 when you'll wish you had listened to me, and I hope 
 it will," she added, with a fiendish smile. "It will 
 jolly well serve you right," and with this she bounced 
 out of the room. 
 
 Leila was half inclined to cry now the interview 
 was over, and for a moment she sat as if in a stupor. 
 Suddenly loud voices were heard proceeding from the 
 kitchen, at the rear of the house. She opened the 
 door again and listened. A woman's voice was 
 saying, 
 
 "You'd better let her friends know before it's too 
 late. Tell them how things stand, and do warn them
 
 62 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 that marriage isn't much in his way. He'll never 
 make her a wife." 
 
 Then the landlady replied, 
 
 "I guessed there was something up by the dog 
 coming and the groom bringing books and a horse 
 most days for her to ride. And the master hisself 
 comes pretty often. There's always somebody com- 
 ing to and fro. But still it's not my place to inter- 
 fere with my lodgers. If she gets married, she must. 
 I'm not in charge of her. The doctor sent her here. 
 I was in his service before I married. It's nought to 
 do with me." 
 
 "Well, my good woman, you'll get yourself into 
 nice trouble if she does go off with him. Be advised 
 and write to her friends. He's a regular bad lot. It 
 would be her ruin. It must be stopped before it is 
 too late." 
 
 "Oh, I'll just get my husband to write a line to 
 the doctor. He'll be home to-night. It can do no 
 harm. Leastways, I hope not, for the doctor lets my 
 rooms for me most seasons." 
 
 There was a scuffling of feet, the voices grew nearer, 
 and Leila guessed the woman was coming past to the 
 front door and closed hers gently. 
 
 She had heard enough to make her miserable. She 
 determined to write off to Castelli at once, and hear 
 from his lips whether the cruel statements were true. 
 
 She was just as faithful to him. Her heart was 
 unshaken, and his love was still her most cherished 
 hope. Yet somehow the summer did not seem so 
 bright, for the rankling wounds of remembrance 
 would remain despite the wish to forget. 
 
 A few teardrops marked the day.
 
 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 63 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 NO JOY COMES UNMIXED. 
 
 LEILA looked very pale and tired when she went to 
 meet Castelli at the old trysting place under the tall 
 white cliffs. 
 
 The long restless hours of the night had robbed 
 her of her charms. The brightness of her glorious 
 eyes had grown dim, and in its place there was an 
 anxious, eager look, and dark circles had formed 
 underneath them, giving a very ill effect to the 
 lovely face. 
 
 Ah, it does not take much to rob the lilies of 
 their bloom. One cruel storm and the fairness is 
 destroyed. 
 
 Leila smiled faintly as Castelli approached her. 
 He was prepared to see her look worried. Her 
 urgent letter calling him to her side had shown him 
 how distressed she was, but he was horrified at the 
 change in her appearance. 
 
 He kissed her warmly and then remarked, 
 
 "My darling, what ails you? Are you ill? I 
 came over as quickly as I could after having your 
 note. Now tell me all the worries and just what 
 has happened." 
 
 " I am frightened, Emilio, dreadfully frightened," 
 and she hid her face on his arm. " I'm almost 
 afraid to tell you all I have heard ; it is so dreadful." 
 
 " Don't be afraid," answered Castelli in a kind 
 voice fraught with sympathy. " Have I not the 
 right to help you, Leila? Now, sit down and let 
 me understand what has happened." 
 
 She sat dov/n with her thin white hand in his,
 
 64 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 and then she told him all the story of Cleo. At 
 times she was so agitated that she could hardly 
 continue the conversation, and when she had finished 
 she burst into tears. 
 
 Castelli looked very grave, and said firmly but 
 gently, 
 
 " Don't cry, Leila, but listen to me. All this 
 woman has told you is untrue, utterly false. She 
 has lied for her own mean ends. She hopes still 
 to triumph over you by her tyranny, to make you 
 quail before her threats, to prevent us from becoming 
 man and wife. My love for you has roused her 
 anger. She hates me, and for revenge tries to 
 corrupt your thoughts, and tells you I am false and 
 base. Leila," and he pressed her hands tenderly, 
 " dojyou doubt me ? " 
 
 His tone inspired her with a sense of awe. She 
 had never heard him speak in this strange and 
 eloquent style, and it awoke in her a certain shame 
 and regret that he should have to ask her if she 
 believed the woman who had tried to throw such a 
 ban on his name. 
 
 " I could never doubt you, Emilio, you must know 
 that. I was certain you would not marry her. But 
 is all, quite all, she said untrue ? Have you had 
 sweethearts in every town you have visited ? " 
 
 " One I've had, Leila, and that is you," he replied 
 soothingly. " No one else has been dear to me. I 
 have never whispered love to another, never pictured 
 with fond delight the pleasures of a home except 
 with you and for you." 
 
 He breathed a sigh as he finished speaking, and 
 to Leila it seemed like an anguished heart. In a 
 moment all her tender sympathies were aroused, 
 and she replied in soft tones, 
 
 " I believe you, Emilio, dear Emilio ; but why 
 did that woman say such very dreadful things? I 
 can't bear to think of them." 
 
 " Because she hates us, Leila, and if she can mar
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 65 
 
 our happiness her joy would be complete. But that 
 can never be, my Leila, for are not our hearts 
 fortified with a great love too deep to be put 
 asunder?" 
 
 " Yes, oh, yes," she answered, with just a little 
 hesitation, whilst a flush overspread her pale face. 
 
 Something in her manner implied she was not 
 quite satisfied. The woman's words had given her 
 some fears, some feelings of impending shadows 
 rising in the future, and she could not as yet quite 
 shake off the forebodings, transient as they were. 
 
 The tenor of her tone struck him at once, and he 
 continued, 
 
 " There is something still, Leila, that is troubling 
 you. Won't you tell me what it is, dearest ? " 
 
 Ignoring his direct question, she asked very 
 meekly, 
 
 ' ' Are all circus people cruel to women and 
 horses ? " 
 
 There was an affectionate hope in her voice that 
 he would deny this also, still there was a pleading, 
 a yearning to know the truth from his lips. 
 
 " None of us, Leila ; it would not pay us to be 
 cruel. Of course we are firm, and have to train 
 with a masterly hand or there would be no circus 
 for the people ; and to avert danger and to save our 
 lives we must be stern. Sometimes there is a 
 dreadful struggle between a horse and his rider and 
 we have to make ourselves the master once and for 
 all." 
 
 " But what about Mdlle. Donis ? " asked Leila with 
 sudden curiosity. 
 
 His face grew stern, the softness died from his 
 eyes. His temper was ruffled when he found how 
 much Leila had been told, but his tact and skill 
 came to his rescue, and he threw a lustre over his 
 deeds which he knew the inexperienced girl could 
 not gainsay. 
 
 " I did train Imra Donis. The woman told you 
 5
 
 66 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 the truth for once." he said with withering scorn, 
 " but I never ill-used her. She was light and pretty, 
 and we were all fond of her and proud of her riding-. 
 Her grace and suppleness was perfection, and it 
 was to my advantage to treat her kindly. Talent 
 and dexterity are absolute necessities in the ring, 
 and cruelty would not develop either, so put away 
 such ideas, Leila, my pet, or I shall think you don't 
 love me." 
 
 " I have but one love, Emilio, and that is you," 
 she replied with fervour. 
 
 Her inquiries were beginning to be rather difficult 
 to answer satisfactorily, and he saw that the matter 
 must be brought to a climax before she had time to 
 reflect longer on all that Cleo had told her. 
 
 He was cunning she so trusting. 
 
 " Leila," he spoke her name so gently, "do you 
 love me well enough to do anything I ask you? " 
 
 " Anything," she replied. "Anything in the wide 
 world. " 
 
 He stooped and kissed her. 
 
 " We must be married at once, Leila, or we must 
 part for ever. The landlady is sure to keep her 
 word your father may be here to-morrow, and we 
 should never meet again." 
 
 Leila was thinking how dreary that going home 
 with her father would be, and she shuddered as 
 she thought of the loss of her handsome, kindly 
 lover. Her life was so happy basking in his love 
 a love which had taken possession of her heart and 
 soul. 
 
 " Must we," she asked vaguely, as one in a 
 dream. 
 
 " Or say good-bye. You must decide, Leila, 
 which it is to be." 
 
 Her passion for him was like a giant wave it 
 rushed madly over both mind and body, it over- 
 whelmed her with its depth, and left her resistless, 
 susceptible only to her dream of delight. It had
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 67 
 
 dulled her for the time to the realities of life. She 
 was stupefied with the cup in which the sweet 
 poison had been so temptingly and insidiously 
 held to her lips. Hope, youth's prophet, had said : 
 V Drink to the dregs, and so chase away anxious 
 care. Love to you will be the balm to all ills, and 
 the cure of sorrow. Why tread a lonely way when 
 his love is shining for thee like the morning star." 
 
 She was entranced. Her love was almost divine. 
 
 Castelli saw her wavering in her decision for one 
 moment, and then she spoke. 
 
 " It can never be good-bye again," she said faintly. 
 " I will do what you think best" 
 
 "You are brave and true, Leila ; now listen to me. 
 If the landlady wrote last night, your father will 
 probably be here by to-morrow morning, perhaps 
 to-night" 
 
 "Oh, no, he won't," replied Leila, interrupting 
 him quickly. " He never does anything in a 
 hurry." 
 
 "Well, then, we'll give him until to-morrow. He 
 or the doctor is sure to be here by train to-morrow. 
 You must leave quite early in the morning, about six 
 o'clock, before anyone is about, and don't bring any- 
 thing with you or it may arouse suspicion if you 
 meet any of the fishermen coming from their boats 
 in the bay." 
 
 " I must bring Marcus," she replied. " I couldn't 
 leave him behind." 
 
 "Yes, Marcus can come, and you might carry a 
 towel in your hand. It would seem then as if you 
 were going to take an early bath. Whatever you do, 
 avoid calling people's attention to you. When you 
 have left the house, walk by the beach as far as 
 Dread Point. It is about two miles, not more, 
 straight ahead towards Bayhaven." 
 
 "I have been there," she replied quickly. "I 
 know the spot well." 
 
 "That's good," he replied. "When you get to
 
 68 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 Dread's Point, Whanks and a carriage will be waiting 1 
 for you on the road which runs along the Downs. 
 He will drive you at once to the fishing village of 
 Thorpe. It is thirteen miles from here, and seven 
 on the other side of Bayhaven. I shall drive over 
 there and find you some apartments, and in them 
 you must stay until I can join you with a special 
 license. You must remain in the house, answer no 
 questions as to who you are, or where you come 
 from. Understand me, Leila, that is most impor- 
 tant." 
 
 "But the landlady will wonder who I am, and 
 where my luggage is. I shall have nothing with 
 me. I couldn't go like that." 
 
 "Then you must give up the enterprise at once, 
 unless you like to make out a list of a few neces- 
 saries, which Whanks can bring you, and after we 
 are man and wife, Leila, I will come over here and 
 demand your belongings. Two days at the most 
 you will have to wait." 
 
 "But the landlady will think it so funny to see 
 me there alone. There will be no excuse." 
 
 "/will see her, Leila, when I take the rooms. I 
 shall ask her to care for you until I come with the 
 license. When all is ready for the marriage I shall 
 tell her the truth. Leave it to me, Leila ; I will 
 manage her. Only do as I tell you, the rest will be 
 easy." 
 
 Leila was not sufficiently worldly wise to under- 
 stand that money can do everything. She did not 
 comprehend that Castelli's management of the land- 
 lady meant a goodly bribe of gold. 
 
 She was satisfied. She would do what he bade 
 her, trusting in his love and his guidance. 
 
 They parted for the last time as lovers. Her de- 
 pression had passed away. A joyousness shone 
 again in her eyes, and her voice was full of gladness 
 as she said good-bye until the dawn of another 
 day.
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 69 
 
 "Good-bye, Leila. To-morrow, sweetheart, you 
 must come away." 
 
 " I will," she replied with determination ; "I will 
 be there." 
 
 On his way home Castelli wondered if she would 
 be afraid when the last decisive step must be taken, 
 whether natural timidity would usurp its sway and 
 he should lose his prize for ever. 
 
 He loved her dearly, and longed for the time when 
 he could call her wife. He had made up his mind 
 to keep his pearl at Thorpe, even after the wedding 
 was over. She must be aloof from the circus en- 
 tirely. 
 
 In the meantime there was much for him to do, 
 for the hours speed on, and the morrow comes 
 almost before the sunset dies away. 
 
 When the -early day dawned, when the happy 
 birds had begun to fill the silent air with song, 
 when the soft breezes were wakening the sleeping 
 flowers, and the sea murmuring sweetly on the 
 shore, Leila Gurney, with restless haste, set out upon 
 her journey a journey which would bring her one 
 step nearer to the goal of bliss, that haven of rest for 
 which she had so ardently longed during her sad and 
 shadowed life. 
 
 Five hours later Charles Gurney and Dr. Burton 
 sat in the little parlour in Green's Cottages. The 
 landlady was propounding her theories loudly as to 
 the whereabouts of her lodger. 
 
 " When I came down this morning, sir," she said, 
 turning to the doctor, "she was gone clean as a 
 whistle. I never heard her go out, yet I was awake 
 at five o'clock. Her bed has been slept in, so she 
 can't have gone far. She couldn't walk to Bayhaven 
 surely, and the coach hasn't gone yet. She's got 
 the start of you, but you're bound to find her." 
 
 Charles Gurney replied before the doctor had time 
 to speak. 
 
 "You wrote to warn me, Mrs. Thomas, for which
 
 70 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 
 
 I am deeply obliged, but as the bird has flown there 
 is no reason for us to detain you longer." 
 
 "Don't hurry, Gurney. I should like to be sure 
 of one or two things before we leave. I was instru- 
 mental in placing your daughter here, and I mean 
 to get every scrap of information possible." 
 
 "Do you know for certain that she has gone with 
 this man connected with the circus at Bayhaven, 
 Mrs. Thomas ? " he asked. 
 
 "As far as we can be sure of anything in this 
 world, sir. The lady as called here told me she was 
 engaged to him ; my husband saw them together 
 yesterday under the cliffs, and^to-dayshehas gone." 
 
 " Are all her things here ? " 
 
 "Just as she left them, sir, except the dog. She 
 took him with her, I suppose, for he ain't here." 
 
 "Where does this unscrupulous villain perform, 
 did you say? " asked Gurney. 
 
 "At Deval's Royal Circus, Bayhaven, sir, a good 
 seven miles from here." 
 
 "Oh, I'm not going after her. I don't care 
 whether it is seven miles or seventy," said Gurney 
 hastily, with a sullen look on his face. "But I 
 should like the brute's name and address." 
 
 "I know it's Castelli," said the landlady, "but there 
 was two other names before that, so the lady said. 
 It began with E, one of them did, but it beats me 
 to think what she called him sounded like a name 
 /never heard before, fureign I should say. Why, let 
 me see," she exclaimed suddenly, "I believe the 
 lady wrote it down on the baker's book, as I had 
 in my hand when she came to the kitchen door. 
 I'll go and see, sir." 
 
 She left the room, and both the men seemed too 
 full of thought to say much. At length the doctor 
 spoke. 
 
 "Gurney, we must find her fancy her at the 
 mercy of this man alone we had better go to Bay- 
 haven at once."
 
 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 71 
 
 " I sha'n't. You can go a fool's errand if you like. 
 She has gone somewhere, and there she can re- 
 main." 
 
 " Gurney, she is your only girl, the one " 
 
 Before he could complete the sentence the land- 
 lady appeared. 
 
 " Here it is, sir, wrote down under the quartern of 
 flour. S-i-g-n-o-r, " she spelt out persistently ; " but 
 there, perhaps one of you gentlemen had better read 
 it. I'm a good scholar, so my husband says, but I 
 can't manage names that hasn't got any Christianity 
 in them." 
 
 " 'Signor Emilio Castelli, Deval's Royal Circus, 
 Bayhaven/" read out Gurney. " I'll take the name 
 down, if you don't object, madam." 
 
 " Well I hope I sha'n't get into any trouble over 
 the affair, as my husband says I can't be expected 
 to look after the lodgers." 
 
 "I shall make no trouble, madam," said Charles 
 Gurney, rising to leave. "I had hoped to have 
 saved her from the degradation of a marriage far 
 beneath her, but as I am too late, I don't intend to 
 trouble more about her." 
 
 "You'll think better of that, Gurney, by-and-by," 
 replied the doctor, almost ashamed of the father's 
 callous bearing and loveless tone; "she must be 
 found without delay." 
 
 "Not by me" answered Charles Gurney, "not by 
 me," he repeated severely and coldly. 
 
 "Well, sir," said Mrs. Thompson, as she reached 
 the front door, turning to face Dr. Burton, "I hope 
 you'll send me some more lodgers ; it's no fault of 
 mine. I believe this scandal will be pounds out of 
 my pocket ; my husband says it will. I'd give any- 
 thing if it had happened in someone else's house and 
 not in mine." 
 
 "I shall always do the best I can for you, Mrs. 
 Thompson, but I won't send you any more unpro-
 
 72 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 tected girls. There must be a father or mother in 
 the business next time." 
 
 He shook hands with her, but Charles Gurney did 
 not even speak. He nodded slightly towards her, 
 and with this scant courtesy Mrs. Thompson had to 
 be satisfied. 
 
 After they left the house Dr. Burton insisted upon 
 taking lunch at the hotel. The train did not leave 
 for another three hours, and he was in hopes that 
 Gurney, in the meantime, would look at the matter 
 in a different light, and seek his child whilst there 
 was the chance. 
 
 When they were seated in the little stuffy bar par- 
 lour, waiting for the eggs and bacon being duly pre- 
 pared for them, Dr. Burton made another effort on 
 behalf of the young girl he had tried to befriend and 
 which had so far ended with such disastrous results. 
 
 " Don't you think, Gurney, instead of taking the 
 trap back to Wellston Junction, we had better go 
 home by way of Bayhaven and see what has become 
 of the girl ? At least we can ask for this man Cas- 
 telli and learn the truth. We could pay the driver 
 and send him off at once. It is our duty, Gurney ; 
 your daughter has been led away. Don't be too 
 hard, but save her if you can." 
 
 "I shall go back the way I came, as I said before. 
 You can please yourself, but I think you're making 
 a confounded fuss over a girl that never belonged 
 to you. If I choose to disclaim her, I suppose I 
 can." 
 
 "No fuss, Gurney. The girl is to blame: but I 
 do think humanity should make you more kindly, 
 more anxious to rescue your child from perhaps sin 
 and shame." 
 
 The lunch coming in interrupted the conversation 
 for a while, and the doctor did not allude to the sub- 
 ject again until they were strolling afterwards on the 
 cliffs. 
 
 "We shall lose this train anyhow, Gurney. See
 
 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 
 
 73 
 
 how clear the water looks. Shall we go down to 
 the beach ? " 
 
 Down to the beach they went, the beach which had 
 been the trysting place of Gurney's daughter and 
 Castelli, and where their troth had been plighted and 
 their marriage arranged ; but neither of the men 
 knew this. 
 
 And the sand and stones around them were 
 dumb. 
 
 "Gurney, what are you going to do ?" 
 
 The doctor's persistency angered Gurney, and he 
 turned to him defiantly. 
 
 "Look here, sir, she has gone, and I forbid you 
 to speak her name to me again a girl that goes off 
 and marries a man no better than a groom, or doesn't 
 marry her, that's more like it," he cried passionately. 
 "It's the cursed mother in the child; the same 
 treachery over again, the same heartless ingratitude, 
 the same bad passions, and yet you bid me seek 
 her, the daughter of the sinful, wretched mother a 
 woman no better than one who haunts the streets." 
 
 "Hush, hush, Gurney. She was your wife," said 
 the doctor gently. 
 
 "Wife!" he hissed. "A wife without honour, a 
 wife without shame, a woman who rushed to her 
 ruin. Let her perish, as she deserves, and the girl 
 too. She shall live her wretched, honour-stained life 
 alone. Those who have the prize can keep it. I 
 renounce her for ever. She deserves her fate, the 
 daughter of an accursed mother. I shall never de- 
 plore their loss. And now we had better drop the 
 subject for ever. It's nothing to you, and if I choose 
 to adopt measures you don't like, be good enough 
 to keep your own counsel." 
 
 "Certainly," replied the doctor stiffly. "But the 
 day will come, Mr. Gurney, when you will repent 
 your decision." 
 
 "That, too, is my concern." 
 
 The two men travelled home together, scarcely
 
 74 
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 addressing a word to each other on the journey. 
 When they arrived at the village station the doctor 
 put out his hand towards Charles Gurney. 
 
 "Good-night, sir. I don't think we need meet 
 again, unless I am required in my professional capa- 
 city. " 
 
 " Please yourself," replied Charles Gurney curtly, 
 as he turned away without taking the proffered 
 hand. 
 
 "What a cruel, wretched man he is," murmured 
 the doctor on his way home. " No feeling for those 
 he should have loved, no heart. Brutal, that's what 
 he is, perfectly brutal. I'll have no more to say to 
 him. I wish I'd never seen the girl. But perhaps, 
 after all, she is happier away from her unnatural 
 father. I hope she is." 
 
 He was glad to be at home again, and whilst he 
 enjoyed his tea with his wife and little chattering 
 daughter, Charles Gurney walked up and down his 
 small sitting-room. The defiant, scornful look had 
 died from his face, and one of anguish had taken its 
 place. 
 
 Away from curious gaze, the strong man gave way 
 to feelings which he thought long since gone. The 
 conduct of his daughter had brought back, in some 
 extraordinary manner, softer thoughts of his wife, 
 and as he paced the room he spoke aloud. 
 
 " No one can heal a bruised and broken heart, 
 and I loved her so dearly. Heaven has doomed 
 me. I have had to part with all I cherished. All 
 have forsaken me. First my wife went, then the 
 boy but God speed him and now, to-day, the last 
 has gone. Men talk of affection. What is it? But 
 the blossom on the spray for a time. Then some 
 rude hand dashes it to the ground, and there it lies 
 and withers, with none to heed its pain. I can never 
 forget her wife mother. She left me, and un- 
 heard, unpitied I complain.' If she lives, she smiles 
 perchance, but not for me. I don't know her des-
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 75 
 
 tiny, whether she is dead or not, but thoughts of 
 her come to me with the loss of other and happier 
 days." 
 
 His face suddenly changed, and it was terrible to 
 see. It grew white and passionate. His eyes were 
 sullen, and the old fixed, leaden expression came 
 round his mouth. The tender feelings were gone. 
 They were but a remembrance come back to make 
 the present more miserable by comparison. 
 
 Forgive them never never. Let the broken vows 
 of the adulterous wife be accursed. Let the sinning 
 daughter fall into the shades of hell as the mother 
 had. They were best there forgotten hated de- 
 spised. 
 
 Pity or compassion he had none.
 
 76 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 JACTA EST ALEA. 
 
 Two days after Leila Gurney had left Sandcliff she 
 became, by special license, Mrs. Emilio Castelli. On 
 the morning' of her bridal day she had felt very lonely 
 and ill at ease, and it took a great deal of gentleness 
 and kindness on Castelli's part to reassure her and 
 bring the smile back to her face. 
 
 The early day had been stormy and wild. The 
 great trooping masses of clouds muttered in angry 
 thunder tones, and flashes of lightning gleamed across 
 the sky. The sea's trembling waves rose with wilder 
 swell, and the wind sighed gently and moaned as if 
 in anguish. It seemed to be chanting a dirge for the 
 dead. 
 
 All this had tended to depress her. She took the 
 storm to be an ill-omen, the voice of prophecy des- 
 tined by Nature to warn her of the dark shadows 
 which lay before her in the years to come. 
 
 Castelli laughed when she told him her fears, and 
 said kindly, 
 
 "The storm cannot last forever, Leila ; the sun 
 must come out again. Don't fret, my darling. I 
 hope your life will be all happiness despite the tem- 
 pest. " 
 
 "Perhaps it will be like the rainbow when the 
 storm has passed, all colours, all brightness." 
 
 He kissed her, and she was once more satisfied. 
 
 Another hour and the wedding was over. There 
 had been no one present but Whanks and the clerk 
 as witnesses. The clergyman, an old man, hurried 
 carelessly over the service, scarcely evincing any in- 
 terest in the contracting parties. He never altered
 
 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 77 
 
 the monotone in his voice excepting twice, when two 
 awful crashes of thunder seemed to burst right over 
 the tiny church. When they had signed their names 
 in the vestry he bid them "Godspeed," and that was 
 all. He had done his share of the duty, the rest 
 never troubled him. 
 
 Leila looked up at him once, just before she left the 
 vestry, hoping he would smile at her. She longed 
 for one congratulation, one kindly word of encourage- 
 ment, one benison on her marriage day. But he 
 offered her none. He began to disrobe in a most off- 
 hand and practical manner, and the newly married 
 pair left the church as quietly as they had entered. 
 Outside the porch they found Whanks, who held out 
 his hand to the bride. 
 
 "Every blessing shine on you, Miss Leila ; oh, I 
 beg pardon, madam. You see it's rather hard to 
 change your name all of a sudden like. I wish I had 
 my aunt's money, then I should get spliced too. I 
 hope you'll both be happy, sir," he added, turning to 
 his master, "that I do." 
 
 Leila shook hands with him, and her husband did 
 the same. She could not thank him, for she was 
 choking down the sobs which his kind words had 
 called forth. 
 
 " You're a good fellow, Whanks," said his master, 
 "and we are both grateful for your kind wishes." 
 
 They walked back to the apartments quietly, arm- 
 in-arm, with Whanks in the rear. The thunder had 
 ceased, the clouds were breaking, showing bright 
 blue beyond, the wind had dropped and the heat was 
 almost oppressive. 
 
 After luncheon Leila decided to write to her father 
 at once. He would have to be told, and the sooner 
 the better. She despatched her letter, and then she 
 and Castelli started for a drive. 
 
 How beautiful looked the summer afternoon. All 
 traces of the storm had gone. There was joy and 
 life all around. The birds sang with all their might,
 
 78 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 as if keeping high revel and exulting in gladness as 
 they flitted amongst the hedges or darted into the 
 bushes, too happy to do aught but clap their wings 
 and proclaim their welcome to the smiling earth. 
 
 The softness of the day gave Leila a feeling of lan- 
 guor and repose, and the calm, placid sky shed a 
 halo over her mind, and for the time entranced her 
 senses, like the sweetest music stealing over a rest- 
 less spirit. 
 
 As she drove it seemed as if the air kissed her with 
 a breath of love. In the distance the sea murmured 
 soothingly, and the cliffs and the fields breathed out 
 visions of radiant joy and enduring love. 
 
 She was so happy in her dream of youth. There 
 were no sombre clouds with angry rugged edges seen 
 on the horizon as yet All was light and hope. 
 
 After her marriage she was somewhat disappointed 
 to learn that she was not to reside in Bayhaven as 
 long as the circus was there, but upon this point her 
 husband was gently firm. 
 
 " It's no place for you, my darling," he had said 
 kindly. "In another month we shall have to go to 
 Manchester, and then you shall go with me now and 
 then to the ciicus ; but we have rather a rough lot 
 here just now, and you would not like to meet Cleo 
 again, would you?" 
 
 "No," she replied, "I should not. Where is she 
 now ? " 
 
 " Down at the show." 
 
 But he did not add that he had made her so un- 
 comfortable that she had been glad to arrange to 
 leave at the end of the week and take a Continental 
 engagement. 
 
 The fact was, however, that he did not wish his 
 wife to be too rudely introduced to the life. He 
 dreaded her learning the truth all at once. Some day 
 she must know all the secrets and the cruelties, but 
 at present it pleased him to keep her innocent of all 
 iruile.
 
 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 79 
 
 "I shall be so dull here all day alone/' she said to 
 him. 
 
 "Oh, no, my darling. You will have your dog, 
 and Athol, also a horse to ride, and books, and I 
 might get some of the fishermen to give you a row 
 for an hour each day." 
 
 " But you will have to go so early every morning, 
 and won't be back until late at night." 
 
 Her voice fell, her eyes filled with tears at the 
 thought. 
 
 Most men would have given way when they saw 
 the upturned, anxious face, but Castelli only put back 
 the golden curls and kissed her tenderly. 
 
 " What ! tears, and only married two days ? Come, 
 come, I must have my sunbeam all smiles, and she 
 must remember that if Bayhaven was the best place 
 for her she should go. But believe me, darling, I 
 am doing what is kindest for you. And there is 
 Manchester in view next month, and then you won't 
 be dull." 
 
 Kind as he was, she felt she could not contradict 
 him. He possessed some power which held her 
 completely under his control, and she replied, 
 
 " I'm sure you do the best you can for me, and 
 I won't grumble any more. I wish father would 
 answer my letter. Do you think he will ? " she 
 asked him anxiously. 
 
 " Not just yet, perhaps, my darling. He will wait 
 a little while. You see he must feel rather riled to 
 find his daughter fled and married ; and fathers don't 
 always forgive in a hurry." Observing her disap- 
 pointed look, he added : "There is very little time 
 gone by. It will all come right if you ddn't \vorry." 
 
 The next day Castelli's holiday came to an end, 
 and he went back to his duties. When he arrived at 
 the circus he found several letters awaiting him. 
 They were all on business save one, and that came 
 from Leila's father, and its contents ran :
 
 8o SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 
 
 "HEATH COTTAGE, 
 BRIARHILL. 
 
 "SiR I am told you have married my daughter. 
 If it is so, which I doubt, I wish you joy of her. 
 The child who leaves home and friends, and bolts 
 with a groom, will surely make a good wife. She 
 inherits sufficient of her mother's good qualities to 
 make her turn out a devil by-and-by. The girl is 
 the offspring of a wicked woman, who left me and 
 her children. This, I hope, will be a strong recom- 
 mendation for her. 
 
 "When you have tired of her I have no doubt her 
 excellent mother will undertake the rest of her edu- 
 cation, and cultivate her mind, soul, and body in 
 order that she may follow in her footsteps. 
 
 ' ' CHARLES GURNEY. " 
 
 After Castelli had read this scurrilous and sarcastic 
 letter he pondered in his own mind whether he should 
 show it to Leila or consign it to destruction at once. 
 He picked up the envelope and found it contained an- 
 other letter, addressed to his wife, but securely sealed. 
 Then he decided to let her see his letter. 
 
 When he arrived home he gave the sealed missive 
 to Leila, who changed colour rapidly as she opened 
 and read it : 
 
 "Child of your miserable, unhappy mother, so you 
 have found your level the level made for you by 
 that woman, my wife. Her daughter could not be 
 pure as others are. Your blood is tainted ; nothing 
 can purify it 
 
 "Married, are you? Well, that is no business of 
 mine. I d"on't care what you are, but remember, 
 when the scoundrel you are with has cast you off, 
 don't come to me for mercy. As you have made 
 your bed, so you must lie on it. I would not give 
 you, a castaway, shelter even if you lay in the gutter 
 at my door. This is all I shall ever write to you. 
 
 ' ' CHARLES GURNEY. "
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 8 1 
 
 Leila had never loved her father very dearly, but 
 his letter was a terrible blow to her. She turned so 
 white that Castelli hurried to her side. 
 
 " It is bad news, my darling, isn't it? " 
 
 "Yes, read it," she answered faintly. 
 
 He perused the cruel lines, and hard and stern as 
 he was, his sorrow and sympathy for his young wife 
 was deep and sincere. 
 
 " Never fear, my pet, he'll forgive you some day. 
 That letter has been written on the spur of the moment. 
 I also have had one from him. I think you had 
 better read it there should be no secrets between 
 husband and wife." 
 
 She laid both letters down on the table with a sigh. 
 For the time her happiness was gone. A cloud had 
 cast its gloom over the shining star; its brilliancy 
 had declined. 
 
 "Leila," said Castelli quietly, "before we were 
 married you led me to suppose your mother was 
 dead ; is it true she ran away from your father ? " 
 
 He waited for her reply. 
 
 The crimson blood rushed to the fair cheeks. She 
 put her hands to her face, as if to conceal her shame 
 from his gaze. 
 
 "Yes, yes, it is true all true." 
 
 "Never mind, darling, I think no worse of you for 
 your mother's faults. But why did you not tell me 
 before? I thought you had lost her by death." 
 
 "Why did I not tell you ?" she said, now roused 
 to excitement. " Why should I spread my mother's 
 shame abroad? Was it not hard enough to bear 
 without that? Was all my happiness to be ruined 
 for her sin ? I tried to forget she ever lived, tried to 
 forget all the misery she brought to us, and the loss 
 of our home. Oh, how happy we were," she con- 
 tinued, "father, mother, Tom and I, all together at 
 home! Her sin will always cling to me; I must bear 
 the burden it is cruel, cruel ! " 
 
 She sobbed aloud, and Castelli was really distressed. 
 6
 
 8* SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 " I don't visit the sins of a mother upon the child 
 if others do," he replied kindly. "You are just as 
 precious to me. Whatever your mother is has noth- 
 ing to do with me." 
 
 She kissed him, and he put his arms round her and 
 did his best to comfort her. 
 
 "Come, now, what have you been doing to-day? " 
 he asked, anxious to turn the conversation. 
 
 " Reading Pope's Homer, and of the high esteem 
 horses were held in when they first came into Greece. 
 I was so amused, because in the fifteenth Iliad they 
 speak of an extraordinary feat of activity where one 
 man manages four horses at once, and leaps from 
 the back of one to another when going at full speed. 
 Why, I saw that done in a circus years ago by quite 
 a boy. " 
 
 She laughed gaily at the idea, and Castelli, taking 
 up the cue, related anecdote after anecdote about his 
 horses. 
 
 And so the smiles returned, as the sun shines after 
 the April shower.
 
 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 83 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 HORROX. 
 
 Six happy months had glided on. Leila was as 
 joyous as on the day Castelli had made her his bride. 
 She had been treated with the greatest kindness and 
 consideration, and in each place they visited her com- 
 fort had been her husband's chief thought and care. 
 
 Of the actual circus life she had seen very little. 
 Two or three times she had occupied a stall to see 
 the performance, but she had never been behind the 
 scenes. 
 
 Some of the company had for fun now and then 
 twitted Castelli upon his marriage, and asked him to 
 " show up the lady." " What on earth do you keep 
 her shut in for ? " one of them would ask ; and another 
 would say, " She's too good for us, I suppose, a 
 kind of angel all to herself." 
 
 To all these taunts Castelli turned a deaf ear. If 
 they pleased them it pleased him equally well to keep 
 his wife to himself. 
 
 Sometimes, when Leila was alone, she would won- 
 der why the horses in the ring looked so scared at 
 the trainer, and why their eyes were fixed upon the 
 thin small whip he held before them. Castelli had 
 told her, in answer to her questions, that all horses 
 did the same, and she believed him implicitly. 
 
 One evening, when she came home from a per- 
 formance, she spoke to her husband again on the 
 subject, which had lately filled her mind and given 
 her a certain amount of uneasiness. She had wit- 
 nessed the performance of a troupe of acrobats, 
 and one little sad-faced boy of very tender years had 
 aroused her sympathy.
 
 84 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST, 
 
 As usual Castelli had put her off with explanations 
 which seemed to be truth, but she had no means of 
 going into the rights and wrongs of the case, and 
 her husband had no intention of going into details. 
 But still the white face haunted her, and the thin 
 arms and heavy breathing were present in her mind ; 
 she could not forget him, and was only partially sat- 
 isfied that all was well. 
 
 For some time after this Castelli kept her from the 
 circus, under one pretext or another, but he was be- 
 ginning to tire of the constant vigilance necessary 
 to keep his wife in ignorance, and when they arrived 
 in Leeds he took her to professional apartments, in 
 which another member of the circus with his troupe 
 lodged, and here it was that Leila first learnt the 
 horrors daily practised on some of those who are 
 trained by an atrocious system. 
 
 "The Gaarez Family" occupied the ground floor 
 of the house and also the top rooms, whilst Leila and 
 her husband had the drawing-room floor. This ar- 
 rangement led to the troupe constantly passing her 
 doors on their way to the higher story. She soon 
 discovered that there were six of them, the eldest 
 girl being about fourteen years of age. There was 
 only one boy, by name Willie, a sickly, wan child 
 of seven summers. In these children her curiosity 
 was soon aroused. When they passed her they 
 never spoke, only giving her a frightened glance. 
 She never had seen children behave so before, and 
 this set her wondering. At last she questioned Cas- 
 telli, as they sat at supper one evening. 
 
 " I should like to see those children who live 
 downstairs perform. How miserable they do look. 
 Is Horrox their father? and where is their mother? " 
 asked Leila. 
 
 Her husband frowned a little, but he was too wise 
 to lose his temper over her perpetual questioning. 
 
 " No, he is not their father, Leila. Probably there 
 are six different mothers. They are not related ;
 
 SLA FES OF THE SAWDUST. 85 
 
 they are children he has taken and trained. He 
 allows each mother so much a week and takes all 
 they earn for himself," replied Castelli quietly. 
 
 "Why do they call themselves 'The Guarez 
 Family' if they are not one family? And they call 
 Horrox father. I cannot understand what it means," 
 said Leila, somewhat vexed at the deception around 
 her. 
 
 " Look here, my dear," said Castelli, \vith just a 
 little tone of irritation in his voice, <c it is the custom 
 for children who perform together to be called ' a 
 family,' and the trainer is always the father ; it's 
 more convenient altogether. In the bills ' The 
 Guarez Family,' sounds more complete than calling 
 them all by separate names ; it could not be done. 
 Sometimes it is troupe, not family." 
 
 " It is not true at any rate," said Leila. 
 
 " Quite, as the profession accept the term," replied 
 Castelli. "It's no use your worrying, my dear, 
 about things that cannot be helped." 
 
 " I must," said Leila somewhat hotly, " when I 
 see things and hear, too, what I do not like or under- 
 stand. I am firmly convinced Horrox is a cruel man, 
 and I shall find out if he is. In the morning, when 
 you are away at the circus, I hear moans and faint 
 screams, and loud voices and awful language. There 
 must be some reason. Why will you not tell me the 
 truth, Emilio?" 
 
 " You are mistaken, Leila. The children practise 
 in the top room, and perhaps you hear a scream when 
 they fall and get frightened. And as to your finding 
 out whether or not Horrox is cruel, take my advice 
 and leave him alone. You would not like him to 
 come up here and inquire about me, and he in his 
 place will not like to find my wife asking impertinent 
 questions." 
 
 As he finished speaking he pushed his plate on one 
 side and took up a paper, as if further conversation 
 on the subject would not be agreeable to him.
 
 86 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 
 
 Leila sighed. She felt somewhat hurt by his 
 manner. Why should he always avoid speaking to 
 her about the children engaged in the circus ? 
 
 He heard her sigh, and he turned to her kindly. 
 
 " Don't fret, my pet. It's no use talking over dis- 
 agreeable topics. I am quite willing to own that 
 Horrox has to be very strict with his troupe, and in 
 saying that I have said all I know about him," and 
 he kissed her tenderly. 
 
 But Leila was not satisfied. A terrible sense of 
 uneasiness had come over her. She felt almost cer- 
 tain that some hardships, some wrong was going on. 
 
 She was fully determined to sift the matter for her- 
 self. She believed honestly that her husband was as 
 ignorant as she was on the subject, therefore she 
 would be quite sure before she spoke to him that 
 cruelty did exist If she found the children were ill- 
 treated she would ask his help and assistance. 
 
 The determination and courage which had made 
 her Castelli's wife now stood her in good stead, and 
 all her energy was devoted to finding out what the 
 strange cries and occasional screams could mean. 
 
 One morning, some days after her conversation 
 with her husband, she was sitting thinking, and 
 watching the busy street beneath. " Marcus" was 
 asleep upon her lap, and her work lay untouched on 
 a table by her side. Suddenly her reverie was broken 
 by a bitter cry, a cry so full of pain and distress that 
 Leila jumped up hastily and opened the door. She 
 listened attentively for a few moments, and then the 
 sound of a child's voice reached her distinctly. With- 
 out pausing to consider, she shut the dog in and then 
 carefully made her way towards the top staircase, 
 for the sounds proceeded from that direction. The 
 children were at practice in the attic room, and thither 
 she determined to ascend. Very cautiously she crept 
 up, waiting now and again, as every step she took 
 made a creaking sound, and she was afraid it would 
 attract attention to her presence.
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 87 
 
 When she reached the top the door was ajar. 
 She peeped through the small aperture, scarcely dar- 
 ing to breathe. She could just see from where she 
 stood the little boy attired in tights. He was deathly 
 pale, whilst the perspiration rolled down his face. 
 He seemed to be trembling from head to foot. 
 
 " Are you going to do it or won't you ? " asked the 
 angry voice of a man. "I'll take the skin off your 
 back in a moment if you don't. Go on." 
 
 "I can't, sir, indeed I can't. I would if I could," 
 replied a plaintive little voice. 
 
 "You shall. Once more, will you do what I tell 
 you ? " 
 
 The child did not speak, he only stood there, a 
 sad, quivering little creature, with none to help him 
 in his awful ordeal. 
 
 Leila saw Horrox step up to where the child was 
 standing. She heard the thin stick he held in his 
 hand whistle through the air as it fell on the defence- 
 less boy, accompanied by a curse. 
 
 "Stop that, do you hear?" cried Leila, flinging 
 open the door and stepping hastily into the room. 
 
 The man for a moment was so astonished at the 
 intrusion that he was fairly taken aback, and the 
 child ran to her for protection, calling as he did so : 
 
 " Oh, save me, save me ! He beats me dreadfully, 
 and I can't do what he wants. The bar's too high," 
 and he hid his face in her dress. 
 
 Before her she saw the tall, dark, angry man, 
 with a cruel leering face and cold fierce eyes, but 
 this did not daunt her. She was unaware of the 
 desperate nature of his character. 
 
 "What brings you here?" he asked roughly, ad- 
 vancing one step nearer to her. "Be off, out of this 
 room, or I'll put you out." 
 
 "The cries of pain from this wretched child 
 brought me here," replied Leila angrily. " I've 
 heard him many times, and to-day I resolved to 
 come and see for myself. I saw you strike him,
 
 88 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 poor child, but you shan't do it again now I'm 
 here." 
 
 She spoke as if her presence and strength were 
 sufficient to keep the enemy at bay. As yet she did 
 not realise how powerful he was or of what cruelty 
 he was capable. 
 
 "Oh, shan't I," he replied tauntingly. "As you 
 are fond of listening at other people's doors, and 
 coming where you are not invited, you can stay here 
 until I choose to let you go." 
 
 And before she was aware of his intention he 
 stepped behind her and locked the door. For a mo- 
 ment this disconcerted her, and a vision of her hus- 
 band rose before her. 
 
 "Keep close to me, Willie," she said as the child 
 began to tremble again. " He shall not hurt you," 
 and she put her delicate white hands round the boy 
 as if to protect him. 
 
 With a terrible oath Horrox called the boy to come 
 to him. 
 
 Leila felt the child move, as if to free himself from 
 her grasp, to obey the master's call. 
 
 "Don't go to him. I'll take care of you, dear," 
 she added soothingly. 
 
 Another awful oath fell from the man's lips, and 
 then Leila felt the boy torn from her grasp. 
 
 " You see I happen to be master here, and the 
 boy is mine." 
 
 " He is not," replied Leila stoutly, although her 
 heart began to beat with apprehension. " My hus- 
 band said none of the children were yours, and you 
 shall not ill-treat Willie if you do, there's the law 
 to protect him." 
 
 "I'll show you what my law is," he said, with a 
 cruel leer upon his face, as he rapped his cane on 
 the floor. 
 
 " You see that, don't you ? '' he said, clutching the 
 boy by the arm, and pointing to the two horizontal 
 bars placed in the centre of the room, with their steel
 
 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 89 
 
 wire guys screwed into the floor. As he spoke he 
 thrust the child on to the thin woollen mattress which 
 stretched between and beyond them. "Now then, 
 one, two, three, jump and catch the bar or I'll make 
 you, by " 
 
 But the feat was beyond the boy's power to ac- 
 complish, and he missed the bar by several inches. 
 
 Down came the cane upon the thinly clad limbs, 
 until the child screamed out in his agony. 
 
 "Oh, don't, don't!" wailed Leila. "How can 
 you be so cruel? " 
 
 But Horrox did not heed her entreaties. 
 
 She watched his face growing more cruel, more 
 fiendish every moment. 
 
 "Catch that bar, you young fool," he roared, " or 
 I'll do for you. " 
 
 "I can't, indeed I can't," sobbed the frightened 
 child. 
 
 ' ' Do it ! do it ! Do you hear ? " 
 
 The child made one more desperate attempt to 
 fulfil his master's bidding, but alas ! the tiny form 
 had not the physical strength. It was beyond his 
 powers to perform such a feat 
 
 " He cannot do it. Why do you ask him ? " cried 
 Leila, almost in despair. 
 
 " He shall do what I tell him or I'll show you how 
 I punish him," cried Horrox in a passion. "You've 
 come to see the training, and see it you shall." 
 
 Again the child tried and failed, falling with a thud 
 to the mattress. 
 
 In a moment, before Leila could even guess his 
 intentions, Horrox made a dash at the boy, and 
 seizing his hands, beat them until the blood fell upon 
 the tiny tights in bright and hideous spots. 
 
 With a scream of intense anguish the child sank 
 down to the ground, holding his bleeding hands 
 tightly together, as if to lull the pain. 
 
 "There, you young devil, if you can't do the 
 work for me you sha'n't do it for any one else."
 
 90 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 As he spoke he kicked the boy savagely. Leila 
 leant for support against the door. She was begin- 
 ning to feel sick and ill, she gasped with difficulty. 
 
 "You cruel brute ! I will tell my husband." 
 
 She could not say more, her heart was beating 
 so fast. She was becoming afraid of the tyrant be- 
 fore her. 
 
 "Your husband, faugh! He's a nice one, he is. 
 Look here, madam," he continued in a voice of sup- 
 pressed passion, "your husband is as cruel as I am 
 more so, he's a brute, if you like, and it's only 
 because you're such a silly doll, such a half-baked 
 fool, that he daren't tell you what he is. You've 
 never seen him train his horses, have you, my lady 
 innocent?" he added, with a sneer. "Before you 
 come spying here again suppose you try your luck 
 with him. Just take a peep in the ring some fine 
 morning when he's rehearsing ; you'll see another 
 show equal to this, perhaps a little more spiced." 
 
 The child moaned and sobbed under his breath, 
 and this again roused the man's anger. 
 
 " Hold that infernal row or I'll thrash you again." 
 
 There was almost silence in the room. Leila was 
 breathing hard and the boy hushed his sobs. Hor- 
 rox, thinking a fainting woman would be a nuisance, 
 and rather fearing Castelli's wrath, moved towards 
 the door. 
 
 "Stop ! " said Leila suddenly, as if gaining cour- 
 age from his action. "My husband has never been 
 guilty of cruelty. You lie ! He's the kindest, the 
 best man that ever lived ; but you but you you're 
 a cruel devil." And then she turned to the child, 
 who sat shivering with fear and deadly white. " I'll 
 help you, Willie dear; wait until to-night and you 
 shall be saved from that brute," and she pointed 
 towards Horrox, with horror and disgust written 
 upon the handsome face. 
 
 "Ha, ha, ha!" he laughed rudely, unlocking the 
 door, " it has given me much pleasure to introduce
 
 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 9 1 
 
 you to the 'profession,' and it has saved your dear, 
 good oh, kind, isn't it ?- husband a disagreeable 
 job." 
 
 He pushed her out of the room as he spoke. 
 
 Dizzy, faint, and sick as she was she pleaded once 
 more for the child. 
 
 "Don't hurt him again, he is so small; promise 
 me you won't, before I go." 
 
 "You be damned ! You won't get over me with 
 your pretty face and cunning ways. Leave the boy 
 to me; I'll square him directly." 
 
 "Then I shall appeal to a police officer, and take 
 out a summons against you directly my husband 
 comes in." 
 
 "Oh, I would if I were you. Your husband will 
 tell you how to go about it. He's so good and kind, 
 you know," he added, with a sneer. 
 
 She went to her room and wept. 
 
 The sadness of the child's face and his faint pathetic 
 cry for mercy had entered her soul like a knife, 
 poisoning her fresh young life. In that hour she had 
 grown years older. Youth had suddenly withdrawn 
 its magic wand. 
 
 Time went on and she still sat thinking, until a 
 telegram was handed her by the landlady's daughter. 
 It was from her husband, to save her anxiety respect- 
 ing his non-return to dinner. Ever since they were 
 married he had never neglected to send her a word 
 if business detained him. She knew it would be late 
 before she saw him, and so she determined to act 
 upon her own judgment with regard to the ill-treated 
 child. 
 
 She hurried down to the police court, and after 
 having seen the superintendent of police, she laid a 
 formal charge against Horrox. She was promised 
 that a summons should be served upon him and the 
 child duly examined at the court. 
 
 Having completed the arrangements she felt hap- 
 pier, but her anxiety to hear more of the children
 
 92 SLAVES OF THE SAWDLST. 
 
 induced her to seek the landlady, to whom she was 
 determined to relate the whole circumstances. 
 
 That evening, seated in the old-fashioned sitting- 
 room, she told her story of what she had seen, ex- 
 pecting the landlady to be surprised and horrified as 
 was she herself, but to her astonishment she received 
 the intelligence very quietly. 
 
 "He's the wust trainer I've ever had here," she 
 began. "There's been nothing but bothers since he 
 came. Some of them is very respectable, but this 
 Horrox is a regular brute to them youngsters. Any- 
 how he won't stay here. Ah, you don't know as much 
 as I do as to how them children suffer." 
 
 "They won't suffer much more," added Leila. " I 
 have been after a summons. It will be served upon 
 him to-morrow, and that will end it" 
 
 She spoke quietly, as if she had done no uncommon 
 thing. 
 
 "What what!" exclaimed the astonished land- 
 lady. ' ' You've done what ? " 
 
 "Been to the police court and told them how the 
 child is treated. Surely that was the right course to 
 pursue ? " 
 
 ' ' Oh, my dear, what ever will your husband say 
 when he hears of it ? One professional never does 
 that to another. I'm afraid there'll be a terrible shine, 
 that I do. But still if I can help you I will, for I've 
 seen enough to make me sick of circus folk for many 
 a long day. I shall try actors next, I think. My 
 house ain't bad, is it ? " she asked, looking round 
 with an admiring gaze. 
 
 "It's a very nice house ; anything would be better 
 than tolerating cruelty, and even if my husband is 
 vexed at the step I have taken, I shall still feel I have 
 done my duty." 
 
 "Well, I'm glad I'm not in your shoes anyway. 
 As you have done the deed, I don't mind backing 
 you up," replied the woman emphatically. 
 
 "You must tell the truth if you are questioned,"
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 93 
 
 said Leila gravely. " But tell me, what do you know 
 of this ' Guarez Family ? ' " 
 
 "Oh! I'll tell you all I know," said the woman 
 willingly. "They came to lodge with me some 
 months ago ; there's six of them five girls and one 
 boy. That eldest girl, Alice, as they call her, was 
 taken very ill after they came here with low fever. 
 Horrox got tired after a time of looking after her, and 
 one night the girl was made to perform on the tra- 
 peze, ill and weak as she was. Later on in the same 
 evening she did acrobat work, flip-flaps and other 
 tricks, such as supporting four of the other children 
 on her shoulders and holding them out by her hands. 
 When she came home he abused her awfully. I was 
 that sorry for her that the next day I made a point 
 of watching for her to see if I could speak to her 
 alone, but I got no chance. The children are never 
 allowed to receive letters ; and once when one came 
 for Alice I managed to smuggle it to heron the stairs, 
 but he beat her later when he found it out ; indeed 
 he works them all day and thrashes them cruelly. I 
 caught him once beating Alice with a broom handle. 
 I interfered several times, but having no husband, I 
 am really afraid to go near him. To-day the boy 
 came down for some hot water. I asked him what 
 ailed his hands, for they were bandaged. He said 
 he had burnt them. You see he dared not tell me. 
 But I knew they hadn't a fire upstairs. I took him 
 into my room and gave him an orange and then 
 the little man told me the truth. Bless his heart ! I 
 could have cried, that I could. I made up my mind 
 then and there that Horrox should pack up his traps 
 and go, and so he shall." 
 
 "Why don't they run away?" asked Leila, who 
 had grown pale and troubled during the narrative. 
 
 "They're all apprenticed to him, my dear. He 
 pays the parents perhaps as much as thirty shillings 
 a week for the use of the elder children. And those 
 kind of parents don't care as long as the man sends
 
 94 
 
 SLA YES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 the money. And where are they going to run, with 
 no one to take them in ? No clothes, no money, 
 although Alice did tell me she'd run away at the first 
 opportunity." 
 
 " Why don't they tell someone a policeman in 
 the street ? " asked Leila innocently. 
 
 "Why, bless you, they never go out alone. He's 
 too sharp for that," said the woman knowingly ; 
 "and several times, when the children have by some 
 means reached the police, the trainers get them off 
 to the Continent That's what Horrox will do long 
 before the summons comes on for hearing. You'll 
 have your trouble for nothing I believe.'' 
 
 "Surely the law will protect the children," said 
 Leila somewhat sadly. "I must try to do what I 
 can." 
 
 She was determined to strike at theroot of the evil, 
 to expose rudely the horrors she had witnessed, to 
 prevent, if possible, the children being shut out from 
 protection and being forgotten by the world's thought- 
 less, forgetting throng. 
 
 Leila went to her room that night a saddened 
 woman. She was stricken with a terrible dread. 
 She had just begun to know, feel, and seethe care 
 and pain which children bear for the people's pleas- 
 ure. Death, she thought, would be mercy compared 
 with the daily toil and anguish suffered so patiently, 
 so uncomplainingly. 
 
 She yearned to set the captives free. Hush ! 
 there was a footstep. It was her husband's. "He 
 will help me to save the little thin, wan boy from 
 sufferings. He will prevent the cruelty, for my 
 sake. He loves me so much." 
 
 There was a great sorrow before her. The clouds 
 were drawing nearer to the bright star, but she did 
 not see them.
 
 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 95 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 UNPROFESSIONAL. 
 
 THE charmed spell, the sunlight, and the glory 
 were passing away. 
 
 Sorrow and anxious care were very near. 
 
 Life's warfare was beginning. The gloom was 
 about to rest on the flower, blighting it for ever. 
 
 Leila saw a terrible change come over her hus- 
 band's face when she told him of all she had seen 
 and the information she had given the police respect- 
 ing Horrox. 
 
 She had expected he would give her sympathy, 
 and offer prompt assistance, instead of which he 
 turned upon her angrily. 
 
 "You have done this thing, Leila, without even 
 asking me first Do you forget I am your husband ? " 
 
 He moved impatiently as he spoke. His face grew 
 very white and stern. 
 
 " If you are my husband, surely you cannot blame 
 me for putting an end to such cruelty. It shall not 
 continue in any house where I am living," replied 
 Leila, with determination. 
 
 "And your interference will not be permitted," 
 said Castelli coldly. 
 
 "Perhaps not mine, but there are the police to 
 interfere, and I'll take care they shall. Poor little 
 boy ! " she said with deep sympathy. 
 
 " You will take the thing in hand, will you?" re- 
 plied Castelli, with suppressed passion. "I'll take 
 care you shall not." 
 
 Leila looked at her husband in astonishment. He 
 had never, till now, spoken an unkind word to her.
 
 96 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 He had been so gentle, so kind, so glad to listen to 
 her various schemes and ideas. Suddenly he seemed 
 transformed, his eyes had lost their kindliness, and 
 he flashed a very angry look at her when he 
 spoke. 
 
 " Emilio, do you mean it? Do you really mean 
 what you are saying? " 
 
 " All, and a great deal more. Sit down," he added 
 sharply. "I have something to say to you." 
 
 Leila had been standing by the table, and his 
 command aggravated her intensely. 
 
 " I prefer to stand," she replied curtly. 
 
 "And I prefer that you should sit down. Leila, do 
 as I tell you." 
 
 Once again the old authoritative tone made her 
 feel his power, and she moved towards the chair. 
 He was silent until she had obeyed him, and then 
 he continued, 
 
 " You are my wife, and you must make up your 
 mind to act as I wish. You have done a most foolish 
 thing. I never heard of such a case excepting once, 
 when two circus men appealed to the British Consul 
 in Spain, saying that some English child was ill- 
 treated by his master,* and a pretty upset there was 
 over the brat. It is not usual for one person to split 
 of another in our profession ; we leave that job to 
 those who are meddlesome and ignorant." 
 
 She flushed scarlet, annoyed at his words, which 
 seemed to imply that he thought her guilty and 
 ignorant. 
 
 " It's ignorant people who dare not speak ; it's not 
 meddling to protect tiny children from brutal men 
 you know it is not," she added with passion. 
 
 " I know it's \\oijyour place to interfere. There'll 
 be a fine row to-morrow when Horrox finds out 
 what you have done." 
 
 *This is founded on the case of William Gregory, sent home 
 from a circus by the British Consul at Barcelona, in the Alberio, 
 1880.
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 97 
 
 " It will serve him right. I do not care in the least," 
 she added calmly. 
 
 "But I do; it may cause both Horrox and me 
 to lose our engagements here. Proprietors do not 
 care for a court advertisement. Leila, you have 
 behaved like a fool." 
 
 "The man Horrox is the fool, I think," replied 
 Leila angrily, "and don't apply that epithet to me. 
 It's not kind or polite, and I should be glad if you 
 will tell me if the proprietors of circuses are unaware 
 of these horrible cruelties. I gather that is so, or 
 why should you be afraid of the result of my 
 action ? " 
 
 Leila, by being constantly with her husband, had 
 developed a very determined spirit. Naturally there 
 was much of her mother's indomitable perseverance 
 and courage, even if the cause was on the wrong 
 lines, and her marriage with Castelli had fostered it 
 largely, and added to her more experienced life. She 
 was quite capable of standing her ground firmly on 
 behalf of the little tortured child. 
 
 " Of course the proprietors don't know how the 
 training is done," replied Castelli hastily. "They 
 advertise for a 'show,' performing horses, acrobats, 
 gymnasts. Do you think they are going to question 
 how and by what methods they are trained ? The 
 'show 'is perfect. It will 'draw ' into the treasury 
 plenty of gold. What else do they care for? It's 
 not their place to ask questions. Perhaps, some of 
 the circus proprietors would make the devil of a 
 fuss if they knew how the training is done, but you 
 see they do not." 
 
 "Then there t's cruelty in the training, and you 
 knew it nil the time," said Leila in a grieved tone. 
 
 Castelli smiled, not one of those gracious smiles 
 which had fascinated her in the early days of their 
 courtship. 
 
 " Of course I have known it all along, but it was no 
 use to worry you with a lot of details." 
 
 7
 
 98 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 
 
 " Then you have grossly deceived me," said Leila. 
 " You have lied to me. put me off with any story, but 
 I have found you out at last." 
 
 " Hold your tongue, Leila. You are forgetting 
 yourself." 
 
 " I will not" 
 
 " Listen to me or leave the room," said Castelli, 
 now fast losing his temper. "I'm not afraid to own 
 my opinions before my wife, and now I will tell you 
 straight off that force and cruelty are and must be 
 employed to teach children their difficult and dan- 
 gerous feats. If the brats won't work, and turn 
 obstinate, there's nothing for it but the whip, and I 
 approve of the method if success is to be won. How 
 else is such perfection to be obtained?" 
 
 "You approve of it," gasped Leila, "you who 
 pretended cruelty did not pay ! I know now why 
 you kept me so carefully from going to the circus. 
 You were afraid I should hate you if I knew the truth. 
 How could you deceive me." 
 
 Her voice was soft and pathetic, and its tone struck 
 Castelli painfully. Yet he was determined to put a 
 stop to Leila taking proceedings against members 
 of his profession. She must see that he was quite 
 determined or mischief would come of it. 
 
 "Yes, I approve of discipline and severe measures 
 when necessary, and in our line it is necessary." 
 
 "Then I am sorry lever cameamongst you, "said 
 Leila sadly. All her anger was gone. She was so 
 bitterly disappointed that her heart sank within her, 
 and she murmured faintly : "All Horrox said was 
 true then all all " 
 
 " Go to bed, Leila, it is nearly one o'clock. For 
 heaven's sake don't do the tragedy business. It does 
 not suit you." 
 
 She never moved from her chair. His cruelty of 
 words had shattered her nerves, overstrained her 
 excitable and loving disposition. 
 
 " Do you hear me? Go to your room. We've
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 99 
 
 said all there is to say at present. Drop the subject 
 until I choose to speak to you again.'' 
 
 She rose mechanically to do his bidding-. As she 
 passed him she hesitated one moment, and then, as 
 if breathing out the most tender love, she said, 
 
 " Emilio, will you kiss me?" She laid her little 
 hand on his coat sleeve, as if to draw him nearer to 
 her. 
 
 He stood looking at her, stern, austere, and un- 
 bending a giant in his strength compared to the 
 fragile figure before him. 
 
 "No, Leila, not to-night. I am very vexed with 
 you very." 
 
 She turned away, choking down a sob as she did 
 so. The anguish of that moment was supreme. 
 
 She went to her room, exhausted, weary, bereaved 
 of her husband's love and kindness. Dispirited, and 
 a little frightened at what she had done, she opened 
 the window, as if hoping to gain some comfort from 
 the clear, still air. She saw the moon was flooding 
 the dark, grim-looking houses with a pale glimmer, 
 making the great town look almost ghastly ; and the 
 bright cold stars made the scene very impressive, 
 strange, and solemn. 
 
 But she was too crushed to notice the beauty of the 
 early hours, the best and brightest before the dawn. 
 She could only remember that the mask had fallen, 
 and that the plain unvarnished truth was before her, 
 to be borne as best she could. She had awakened to 
 stern reality, and the waking robbed her of her joy- 
 ous daydreams. Her happiness was like a delicate 
 rosebud, born, but destroyed before the time to flower, 
 or like the frail, tenderblossom that would never turn 
 to fruit. 
 
 She had trusted him implicitly. A doubt had never 
 crossed her mind that he told her aught but truth, 
 and now her faith was bruised and she could not heal 
 it. 
 
 But she loved him still.
 
 100 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 When the morning came, Castelli went down to 
 the circus early. He had been coldly polite to Leila, 
 indeed almost kind, but he had not kissed her or 
 treated her in any way as usual. 
 
 All because she tried to wipe away childish tears, 
 and to soothe a little broken heart. 
 
 "I say, Castelli, your fine lady wife has made a 
 nice muddle down here. Horrox tells me that she 
 had a summons served upon him this morning for 
 beating one of the troupe. Is that so ? " asked the 
 manager. 
 
 " Yes," said Castelli, " it's quite true, I am ashamed 
 to say." 
 
 "Well he's going off to the Continent this after- 
 noon, so he declares, the whole 'family' too, but 
 I think he should remain at his post ; it will make us 
 short for the performance." 
 
 "Oh, he'll be here right enough," said Castelli. 
 He was anxious that the manager should be appeased 
 or awkward questions might be asked, although he 
 knew that even then Horrox was on his way to Paris. 
 
 "I hope so; he has another month to run here. 
 But did he really beat one of his apprentices ? " 
 
 "According to a woman's point of view, yes ; from 
 ours, most decidedly not. My wife is a lady, refined, 
 educated well, a thorough lady, with a tender heart 
 and knows no more of circus life than the unborn 
 babe. I suppose the child cried out before he was 
 hurt, and my wife went up to the top room where the 
 Guarez Family practised, and she saw Horrox strike 
 the child with a cane no more than a schoolmaster 
 might do." 
 
 "Oh, she's one of the modern women faddists, is 
 she? "said the manager; "one of these intolerant, 
 interfering persons who belong to half a dozen ranting 
 societies. Take my advice, Castelli, and put her to 
 some work a lady wife is no use to any man in our 
 profession. I suppose you leave her to spend the 
 day as best she can ; no wonder she gets into mis-
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. ioi 
 
 chief. You must employ her mind ; but for heaven's 
 sake keep her from making fools of us all in this 
 style." 
 
 "It will be the last time she will ever do it I can 
 promise you," said Castelli, who began to feel very 
 uncomfortable and angry. 
 
 " Don't keep her at home doing nothing ; that's the 
 mischief," repeated the manager, as he walked off 
 without waiting for Castelli to reply. 
 
 Castelli was enraged to think that his wife had put 
 him into such a degrading position in the circus. To 
 have her talked over, and his management of her, 
 drove him to think some hard things of the girl to 
 whom a few short months before he had pledged such 
 loving vows. 
 
 He turned to go towards the stables, when Hans, 
 the vaulter and clown, came up to him. 
 
 "Is it true, Castelli, that your wife has run a sum- 
 mons on Horrox? My, she must be a good 'un, and 
 no mistake ! I'm glad she don't belong to me if she 
 has." 
 
 "It is not for you to question what my wife has 
 done," said Castelli loftily. 
 
 "Well, I suppose it is not, now I come to think of 
 it," replied the man, who kept the fun going in the 
 ring for the children, and grown up folks too. 
 
 " Pity you did not thiitk before you spoke," said 
 Castelli. 
 
 " So I did. I thought what a fool she must be to 
 do it, and what a fool you are to let her. So I 
 thinked a think, didn't I ? " he added, putting on a 
 tone of voice he used in the ring and winking his 
 eye at a groom standing near. 
 
 " No one wants to hear your jokes," said Castelli, 
 now furious. " Keep them to yourself." 
 
 " Couldn't, couldn't oblige you anyhow. You see 
 I am a 'quibber' by profession bred in it, born in 
 it, paid for it, and shall die in it," and a good- 
 natured smile overspread the man's face, " I really
 
 102 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 
 
 only asked you the question for fun, because, when 
 I heard of the summons, I was thinking what a 
 stunning joke it would be if she tried the same game 
 with you and your 'gee-gees,'" and his face 
 brightened at the mere idea of such an event. 
 
 " It will be time to think of that when it occurs," 
 said Castelli sullenly. 
 
 " I should ihink it would indeed," replied the 
 clowp. with emphasis. " But forewarned is fore- 
 armed, and I'm blowed if I'd trust her not to get you 
 into some scrape." 
 
 He hummed a popular air as he turned away, and 
 Castelli went to the stables. 
 
 Whanks was there, busy with the horses. He 
 came UD to his master. 
 
 " Excuse me, sir, but be it true that Madam has 
 summoned Horrox for cruelty to the children ? You 
 see, sir, I serves you, and all the circus keeps asking 
 me if it is true, and I don't like to be kept in the 
 dark. It looks darned queer, in my position." 
 
 "Yes," replied Castelli, "it is correct. As all 
 these confounded busybodies seem to have heard it, 
 you may as well know the truth. Don't ask me any 
 more questions. You've got your answer, once and 
 for all." 
 
 ' ' God bless Miss Leila ! " 
 
 " She is my wife, Whanks, not Miss Leila at all," 
 broke in Castelli quickly. 
 
 " Beg pardon, sir. Well, heaven bless her, her 
 heart's in the right place ! I wish there was more 
 like her, that I do a dear good creature ! I only 
 wish my aunt's money would come and I'd help 
 Miss Leila bless my soul, I should have said 
 Madam to protect the children, that I would." 
 
 " Be off to your work," was Castelli's reply. 
 
 The man touched his dirty greasy cap as a token 
 of respect, and shuffled off to the horses, and then 
 Castelli wended his way home to his disconsolate 
 wife.
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 103 
 
 He had determined upon the punishment he should 
 inflict on Leila for her indiscretion. He would take 
 her away from her quiet home life, from her books 
 and dogs, and make her work as other women 
 work. 
 
 But he did not count the cost of that labour for 
 Leila. He forgot she was like a piece of delicate 
 china which needed very careful handling. 
 
 Others went through the toil, and she should do 
 the same. She would have no time then to find fault 
 with the training of children. 
 
 But he was too wise to keep up the feud which 
 had arisen between his wife and himself. She must 
 look her best, and do him credit, and for this end he 
 would meet her kindly. 
 
 She was sitting in a low chair as he entered, and 
 he was really sorry to see her looking so wan and 
 ill. She flushed slightly as he called her name. 
 
 " Leila, have you a kiss for me?" he asked her 
 gently, as he put his face close to hers. 
 
 She did not reply, but burst into a flood of pas- 
 sionate tears. The reaction was almost too much 
 for her to bear. 
 
 " Don't cry, Leila, my girl. The best of friends 
 fall out sometimes. I daresay I was a little too 
 rough with you, but I was dreadfully put out about 
 that confounded summons. You see, Horrox has 
 gone off to avoid the hearing, and down at our 
 ' show ' they are not too well pleased." 
 
 " He has gone, and the children too ? " asked Leila 
 between her sobs. 
 
 "Yes, gone off to the Continent," said Castelli. 
 
 " Poor little Willie, and I promised to help him, 
 and now he has gone." 
 
 This thought brought the tears again in abundance. 
 
 " Don't fret like this, Leila, for heaven's sake. Be 
 a brave girl. You will be quite ill," said Castelli 
 kindly. " Besides, I have something cheerful to tell 
 you. What do you think it is ? "
 
 I0 4 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 
 
 She shook her head sadly, as if nothing could 
 bring back either her happiness or her smiles. 
 
 " Well, I have been thinking you must be very 
 dull here alone all day. I ought to have thought of 
 that before. What do you think of coming down to 
 the circus and learning professional riding the haute 
 ecole, of course, I mean ? You ride so well now that 
 you would soon become an expert, and come 
 mounted into the ring with me. It would be nice 
 to ride together, Leila, and make a really pretty 
 ' show.' Will you try ? " 
 
 She brightened at the idea. A little of the sun- 
 shine came back to the sad girlish face at the thought 
 of the lonely days now at an end, to be replaced by 
 happy hours spent with her husband. 
 
 " I should like it very much, very much indeed. 
 It has been lonely here sometimes. The days seem 
 as if they would never pass. The change will be 
 delightful." 
 
 She almost looked herself again, and he was truly 
 glad to see the gloom dispersing and the old happy 
 joyousness take its place. 
 
 " Well, by next week I daresay we can get your 
 habit and skirt made, and then I'll mount you on 
 'Mayflower.' She's a splendid mare, and carries a 
 lady to perfection. She has no vice a baby could 
 ride her one of the finest in my stud," said Castelli 
 proudly. 
 
 " How kind you are, to think of me when you are 
 so busy," said Leila gratefully. 
 
 " Well, my precious little wifie must not sit here 
 and mope any longer. Come, will you kiss me?" 
 
 She put her arms lovingly round his neck, and he 
 stooped and kissed her many times. 
 
 " Now we are goods friends again, eh?" 
 
 " Yes, oh, yes," she answered gladly, looking up 
 at him with such 'a glad smile. 
 
 She -was happy once more, yet her love had 
 received a rude shock, and she could not forget all
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 105 
 
 he had told her, and the deception practised upon 
 her. She forgave him, but still the white page of 
 her married life had a blot marring its fairness. 
 
 She could never feel quite the same, her heart had 
 been so deeply wrung, and there was one slight 
 wound which would never heal the canker of a first 
 quarrel, the remembrance of the first harsh words, 
 the first wane in the brightness of their gladdened 
 life. 
 
 "It shall be the last unhappiness," Leila said to 
 herself, as she lay down to rest that night, " the very 
 last." 
 
 But the future was veiled.
 
 I0 6 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 JOINING THE PROFESSION. 
 
 A KNOT of grooms and loungers were standing near 
 the ring, gazing with admiring eyes at the dexterity 
 of Castelli's young wife. 
 
 The trained horse knew its work better than its 
 rider, but she was quick to take the cues, and they 
 both seemed to yield as if to assist to each other in 
 meritorious style. 
 
 Leila possessed a natural talent for riding. She 
 had no fear. During her childhood she had been 
 several times chidden by her riding-master for sheer 
 recklessness. Most days since her marriage she had 
 mounted a horse placed at her disposal by her hus- 
 band, and had gone miles into the country with faith- 
 ful old Whanks as guide and protector ; but riding 
 quietly just where she pleased was very different to 
 displaying the talents of a celebrated "trick horse." 
 But she was an apt pupil, and soon won the admira- 
 tion of the artistes engaged in the circus. 
 
 On this particular morning the rehearsal had-been 
 a great success, and Castelli felt very proud of Leila's 
 equestrian feats. Even the grooms and attendants 
 were excited to plaudits. She held her seat firmly 
 whilst the horse knelt down, and performed other 
 difficult tricks. 
 
 Castelli saw money in his beautiful wife, and he 
 determined to lose no time in bringing her before the 
 public. 
 
 "You must try her again in the waltz, Leila," said 
 Castelli, " but you had better rest her for a moment 
 or two." 
 
 Lelia did as her husband directed, but the beauti-
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 107 
 
 ful, impatient creature was difficult to hold in. Cas- 
 telli saw her trouble, and went up to the horse, put- 
 ting up his finger before it. In a moment it ceased 
 its restless pawing of the sawdust and became sub- 
 dued. Leila was astonished at the docility of the 
 animal. She did not realise that his training had 
 been forced by the whip for resistance and a carrot 
 for obedience. 
 
 Whilst she was resting she caught sight of a woman 
 amongst a group of men who had just strolled into 
 the circus. She had seen the face before, but not 
 since the dear courting days at Sandcliffe. It was 
 Cleo. There was no mistaking the handsome 
 southern face which looked at her with such scorn 
 and pride. 
 
 To Leila it seemed as if she said, "Oh. you're 
 come to this, are you f " and she felt almost ashamed 
 that she should be seen there in the ring as one of 
 them, for had not Castelli boasted everywhere that 
 she was a lady, and not to be connected with the 
 circus at all. Of course he had led everyone to be- 
 lieve that the choice had been his w.ife's, and that 
 he had consented to please her, and to this arrange- 
 ment Leila gave a tacit consent. 
 
 In a moment she realised that this woman had 
 been meeting her husband since their marriage, and 
 had now probably taken an engagement at the same 
 circus. The very idea of this brought the blood to 
 her face in an angry flush. All her interest in her 
 work was gone for that day, and she signalled to her 
 husband, who was chatting with another trainer in 
 the middle of the ring, to come to her. 
 
 " I should like to dismount ; I don't think I shall 
 ride any more to-day." 
 
 "Are you ill, Leila, that you make such a strange 
 request? You must remember it is business here, 
 not a place for me to indulge you in absurd fancies," 
 said Castelli sternly. 
 
 "I'm not ill, but I will wo/ride with that dreadful
 
 108 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 woman Cleo standing there ; I will not be in the 
 same place with her. I am going home," replied 
 Leila, with great determination. 
 
 " You are wo/," said Castelli quietly. "The woman 
 has as much right here as you have. She begins an 
 engagement here this week, so you must meet some- 
 times. Don't be foolish, Leila, or you will make me 
 angry." 
 
 "I shall call one of the grooms, for I mean to 
 go," said Leila, "I'm not bound to work here." 
 
 "What you have undertaken /will see you carry 
 out, and as ringmaster I command you remain here 
 until I consider your rehearsal at an end." 
 
 His face grew very stern and hard. The group of 
 which Cleo was one wondered at the change, and 
 surmised that the conversation between the couple 
 had not a very pleasant purport 
 
 Castelli saw tliat wondering eyes were upon them, 
 and to avoid further observation he ordered in a loud 
 voice the grooms to bring in the five-barred gate for 
 Leila to take her leap. He approached the horse, 
 and examined bit and bridle carefully. 
 
 "If you expect me to take the gate safely to-day 
 let me tell you I have not the courage to do so," said 
 Leila, trembling with passion. 
 
 She had only gone over the gate a few times, and 
 Castelli always took every precaution to ensure her 
 safety. He was anxious now to steady her before 
 the leap. 
 
 "Leila, do be brave," he added kindly. "Let 
 them all see what you can do. Would you fail be- 
 cause an enemy is here? Rather show her how 
 clever you are, and how proud I am of you. " 
 
 His words were sufficient to give her back all her 
 courage, all her determination. He could not have 
 fired her ambition better than by uttering those few 
 sentences. 
 
 The men placed the gate in position, and Castelli 
 called to Leila,
 
 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 
 
 109 
 
 "Are you ready ? Sit back, quite back, and you'll 
 be safe. She'll take you over in g-ood style." 
 
 And she did. Without the shadow of a mistake 
 she cleared the gate, and landed with ease on the 
 other side. 
 
 " Take care of the door frame, Madam," said one 
 of the grooms. " You're apt to catch your 'ead if he 
 makes for the stables sudden like." 
 
 " Thank you, that would be a terrible death," said 
 Leila, grateful for the man's warning. 
 
 Her husband came up to her and rewarded her 
 with a smile, and Leila was gratified with her suc- 
 cess. 
 
 But there was one there who could have cursed the 
 groom for his timely warning, one whose cruel wrath 
 against an innocent woman knew no softening : in 
 her breast was buried undying hate She would have 
 slain the fair rider had she dared. Passion, jealousy, 
 and unconquered love ruled her still. 
 
 Leila was happy in her work, and as yet she had 
 witnessed no cruelty in the ring- during the short 
 time she was at the circus. 
 
 One morning she strolled down earlier than usual. 
 She passed the horses in their stalls, and spoke a 
 kindly word to the three boarhounds, which were 
 playing in an unused stall, and then she made her 
 way into the circus. She began to feel at home 
 now in the great, bare, cold building, and her hus- 
 band allowed her to go in and out pretty much as 
 she liked, as long as he was about ; but business 
 had taken him from the circus this one day, and 
 Signor Pandini was delegated to act as riding-master 
 for the occasion. 
 
 Suddenly a dull, continuous sound of horses' 
 hoofs reached Leila's ear, and at intervals the crack 
 of a whip someone was rehearsing she would go 
 and see who it was, for she was young enough in 
 her profession not to have lost any of the charm of 
 the life, and her curiosity was as keen as ever. An
 
 1 10 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 infamous oath followed by the crack of a whip and 
 a shrill cry of physical pain, smote her with appre- 
 hension. She hastily put aside the heavy curtains 
 which hung over the great doors, and the horrors of 
 the ring burst upon her. 
 
 The daylight was streaming in through the high 
 windows, making the circus look cold and cheerless 
 with its hundreds of vacant seats ; there was no one 
 to be seen excepting an angry man in the ring, and 
 a mere girl, dressed in a wide grey skirt and knick- 
 erbockers, loose at the knees. She had made several 
 " slips," and had just received a severe cut or two 
 from her master. She was very pale, and her face 
 was stamped with an expression of the greatest fear 
 and suffering. Leila stepped back into the shade of 
 the curtains she would not retreat farther, and she 
 dare not let her presence be found out 
 
 Again and again the hoop was held by the trainer, 
 but from want of courage the girl failed to spring at 
 the last moment. 
 
 Leila saw her taken from the horse, and such 
 punishment bestowed on her with a thin white- 
 thonged whip, that she withdrew with a shudder. 
 
 Her cries for mercy, and the degradation of the 
 girl's position, made Leila grow very faint. She was 
 rooted to the spot by the terrible spectacle, but she 
 dare not move. There had been a time when she 
 would have called for assistance, and led the way 
 herself, but somehow she had grown strangely afraid 
 of Castelli ; and she did not wish to incur his anger 
 if it were possible to avoid it. 
 
 When the man had expended his wrath, he kicked 
 her several times, and then her awful lesson came 
 to an end. 
 
 Leila escaped from her hiding-place, and betook 
 herself to the office used by her husband and Signer 
 Pandini. She felt ill and sick at heart. And had 
 it not been for incurring Castelli's displeasure she 
 would have begged Pandini to dispense with her 
 lesson.
 
 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. \\\ 
 
 He was waiting, however, and he remarked, as she 
 entered, 
 
 " I wonder if Dutasti is out of the ring yet? He 
 keeps his pupil such a darned long time." 
 
 " I think the lesson is over/' said Leila faintly, 
 " for I met him a moment ago." 
 
 " Then we'll proceed to business at once, ".said 
 Pandini, and together they went into the ring. The 
 horse was brought out and Leila went through her 
 duties mechanically, as if her thoughts were far 
 away from the circus. Once or twice Pandini 
 noticed her inattention, and fearing she might lose 
 control over her horse, he called her to mind rather 
 sharply. " I think you might do your best, Madam, 
 even if your husband is away ; it's rather ungracious 
 to ride your worst," he said in a vexed tone. 
 
 Leila felt the man spoke the truth, and she threw 
 off her distress for the time, and gave all her energy 
 to her work. 
 
 " That's good, Madam, very good," said Pandini 
 from time to time. And when her lesson was over 
 she \vas still more gratified to hear his warm approval 
 of her efforts. 
 
 Then she went in search of the wretched ill-treated 
 girl, whose name she heard was Louie Paran. But 
 a week passed before she was able to have any con- 
 versation with her. After that she had one or two 
 secret meetings with her. 
 
 Leila was horrified to hear of her constant 
 sufferings. 
 
 " I am kept practising morning, noon, and night, 
 for if it is not horses it's bending, which is contor- 
 tion, you know. There is no rest for me," said the 
 girl sadly, " and I am covered with bruises ; some- 
 times I ache in all my limbs so that I cannot sleep at 
 night. My life is a misery to me." 
 
 " Well, it cannot last for ever," said Leila with 
 great compassion ; '"the day shall come when you 
 will be free, as others are."
 
 j 1 2 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 
 
 The girl sighed, the hope of that seemed so far 
 away. 
 
 "lam only sixteen," she replied; "I have five 
 years yet to serve my master." 
 
 " Is there no appeal against such cruel treatment ?" 
 asked Leila; " have you ever made an attempt to 
 get protected ? " 
 
 "Never. One of our girls managed somehow or 
 other to summons her master, but the magistrate 
 dismissed it, and she got the worst of it. The 
 summonses are always set on one side, the girl gets 
 no chance against her master. There are lots of 
 dodges, heaps of means to get out of the scrape. 
 The girl is told she must tell the magistrate she is 
 very happy, and the parents are paid to declare how 
 much better in health the girl is since she was 
 apprenticed, and in due course the master has the 
 pull. I wouldn't try," she added ; " I'd rather suffer 
 to my death than take the risk of losing the day. 
 Ah ! you don't know what the existence is. Some- 
 times I think I shall put an end to my life ; death 
 cannot be worse to bear it can only come once, 
 and then the pain is over." 
 
 " Be brave, dear girl ; I will see what I can do. 
 Don't do anything rash, promise me you will not," 
 said Leila in distress. 
 
 " I shall not have the chance, I am afraid," replied 
 the girl wearily. " I only wish I could see a lady 
 who was the wife of the proprietor of a big Conti- 
 nental circus. She was English herself. She was 
 very kind to me, and saved me a terrible beating 
 one day when I was giddy and kept falling. You 
 see, my master did not mind her, knowing she be- 
 longed to the circus and up to all the secrets, but 
 she begged him to leave off, so he did, after abusing 
 her for interfering. I heard she is coming here on 
 business, but even if she does I may not get a word 
 with her." 
 
 "Yes, you shall; what is her name Louie? I
 
 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. \ \ 3 
 
 will look out for her and mention you to her," said 
 Leila in a glad tone of voice. 
 
 " Madame Meurice," replied the girl ; " but I am 
 afraid the chances of her coming- are very small," 
 she added desperately. 
 
 " Shall I write to her? " asked Leila. 
 
 " No, no, pray don't do that, it might all be found 
 out," said the girl hastily, all the while fear of her 
 master's anger rising before her. 
 
 "You can trust me, my dear," said Leila gently. 
 " I shall never mention a word of this conversation. 
 You must believe me, I am so sorry for you," and 
 she pressed a kiss on the girl's thin cheeks. 
 
 The little act of kindness touched Louie Paran's 
 heart, and a few silent tears coursed down her face. 
 
 Poor child, she so rarely heard loving words, and 
 had forgotten who had kissed her last ; it was so 
 many years ago, it seemed like a dream. 
 
 " Good-bye," said Leila, " I will do the best I can 
 to find your friend, and one of these days I shall 
 come and chat with you again." 
 
 " If you get the chance," replied the girl sadly, as 
 she turned away, but happier for the tenderness 
 which had gladdened the gloom. 
 
 When Leila and her husband were sitting together 
 that evening she never mentioned the incident of the 
 day. It had become usual for her now to keep her 
 troubles and vexations to herself. 
 
 Castelli stood lighting his cigar at the candle, and 
 then, after settling himself comfortably in the arm- 
 chair, said, 
 
 "That Canadian skating show has got the sack 
 from the manager down at our place. Rather hard, 
 considering they've only been married eight months." 
 
 Leila's sympathy was aroused at once, and she 
 asked, 
 
 "Why have they left?" 
 
 "Oh, because the wife is ill," replied Castelli 
 carelessly, "and she will not put on a smile to the 
 
 8
 
 1 1 4 SLA VES OF THE SA VVDUST. 
 
 public, and lets every fool know she is unhappy. Her 
 husband told me that she had been crying all day 
 before she went on the rink, and now they have both 
 to turn out. The managers do not want people who 
 show when they are ill you can't expect it. " 
 
 Castelli spoke in an off-hand, curt manner, and 
 betrayed no sympathy with the suffering woman. 
 
 " What a shame?" said Leila; "she cannot help 
 being ill." 
 
 " No one said she could, but she can help show- 
 ing it. The people pay to be amused, not to be 
 depressed and made sad," replied her husband in a 
 cold tone. 
 
 "It seems to me," said Leila, "that amusement 
 must be procured for those who can pay for it whether 
 others suffer or not." 
 
 "Just so; as long as the people clap down their 
 money we must provide them with what they pay 
 for." 
 
 "And they require the performance of feats at the 
 expense of cruelty and hardships," replied Leila with 
 disgust. 
 
 " The public don't care a curse as long as they get 
 their shilling's worth," said Castelli quietly. 
 
 " I believe they would if they knew the truth. It's 
 want of knowledge not want of heart which makes 
 them applaud the very things which have cost the 
 artiste the greatest suffering, the sharpest pain. Dare 
 you or any master of apprentices train in public ? 
 You would not like all the world to know that the 
 whip has so prominent a place ; but some day the 
 truth will out, and then shall come the remedy." 
 
 "Rubbish!" said Castelli angrily. "What a pity 
 you are not a Methodist preacher. You'd better hold 
 your tongue. I daresay I shall live to hear that you 
 have joined some confounded society which gets big 
 subscriptions from the weak-minded rich to enable 
 them to poke their noses where they are not wanted." 
 . "I wish there were more philanthropists," said
 
 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. i T 5 
 
 Leila gravely, " and more protection for the chil- 
 dren. " 
 
 " Philanthropists be hanged, " replied Castelli with 
 rising passion. 
 
 She rose and left the room. She was so hurt when 
 he spoke to her thus. It was a very common occur- 
 rence now, yet she could not accustom herself to it, 
 and the tears always came, battle against them as she 
 would. 
 
 It takes time for unkindnessto pierce the anguished 
 heart. The way is through grief, sorrow, and disap- 
 pointment. Kind words must have died and love 
 taken its flight before it can reach the soul. 
 
 Some weeks after Leila's chat with Louie Paran she 
 heaFd that the girl had run away, and all efforts to 
 trace her had utterly failed. After her "turn" in the 
 ring at an evening performance she was never seen 
 again. 
 
 Only Whanks knew that Madame Meurice had 
 driven past the circus, muffled up most carefully so 
 that no one could recognise her. He alone had seen 
 a sign which had been agreed upon, and in a mo- 
 ment Louie was in the cab and off ; and the next day, 
 when all the circus was in confusion over the loss 
 of Louie Paran the great "trick rider," Whanks 
 could have told them that she was on board a steamer 
 bound for the East. 
 
 But he held his tongue, and only murmured to 
 himself, "if I had my aunt's money I would have 
 gone too, be hanged if I would not" 
 
 Whanks had seen the girl go for Leila had made 
 the way easy. She did not forget her promise. The 
 white slave had escaped the tyrant's cruel hand, and 
 Leila was happier for the risk she had run in taking 
 part in the girl's abduction. 
 
 But she kept her own counsel.
 
 I ! 6 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 IN THE TRANSVAAL. 
 
 BETWEEN Leila and her brother there was space, 
 that great undefined yet limitable division which 
 separates one half of a wondering world from the 
 other. 
 
 There was the sea, girding the earth like heaven, 
 the same for ever, stamped with the great impress of 
 the Unchangeable. 
 
 There were only memories left for either of them. 
 Like a dream came back the sound of a beloved 
 voice, the grasp of a familiar hand, and the unity of 
 profound love, the dearest thing which wealth can 
 never buy. 
 
 Away from the glare and heat of the cities, away 
 from the civilised world, away from home and friends 
 and all that the young hold dear, was Tom Gurney. 
 Yet he was very happy, and grateful to those who 
 had given him the opportunity of starting in life in a 
 new country. 
 
 The splendid climate had given him renewed 
 health and spirits, which influenced his physical 
 nature and the tendencies of his mind, rendering him 
 less hopeless, and making him forget much of his 
 shame. 
 
 The roadside store which had been Tom's home for 
 the last two years belonged to his friend's father, Mr. 
 Webb, and was known as Malan store. It was 
 situated near the Vaal River, which forms the bound- 
 ary between the Orange Free State and the South 
 African Republic. 
 
 The store itself was a commodious one-storied build- 
 ing. In appearance it was of somewhat rude make ;
 
 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. \ \ 7 
 
 sand and sun-dried bricks being the only commodities 
 at hand. It was used for articles of sale alone, and 
 the accommodation was hardly sufficient for the 
 demand made upon it. Three hundred yards apart 
 from the store was the house occupied by Mr. Bates 
 the manager, two clerks, and Tom Gurney. Both 
 buildings stood by the side of the track which served 
 as a "waggon road" across the undulating veldt, 
 over which travellers often had very disagreeable 
 experiences. 
 
 Tom had frequently known an ox-waggon to arrive 
 at the store the occupants of which could tell him 
 of blinding storms of dust swirling and sweeping all 
 that lay before them, of fearful paroxysms in the 
 storm, the fury of the wind, the terrible darkness, the 
 dazzling flashes of lurid lightning followed by deaf- 
 ening peals of thunder. But as suddenly as the 
 storm arose came the lull, and the sun would shine 
 over the veldt with renewed lustre and beauty. 
 
 From the store little could be seen but short, stunted 
 grass, and there were no trees to spread forth great 
 arms of bushy leaves to give a grateful shade from, 
 the scorching heat of the midday sun bare, intoler- 
 ably hot, the air often heavy with dust, it tried the 
 patience of the four Englishmen at times almost be- 
 yond endurance. 
 
 When no clouds of dust were rising from the ox- 
 waggons there could be seen in the far distance a 
 collective circle of huts Kaffir kraals just distin- 
 guishable against the clear blue sky, where the stal- 
 wart forms of the Zulus reposed during the heat of 
 the day. 
 
 Tom would sigh sometimes when he gazed upon 
 the little piece of enclosed land which surrounded the 
 store and dwelling-house, where nothing grew but a 
 field of mealies and a few common vegetables, and 
 he would long for just one sight of an English gar- 
 den, with its roses and budding carnations, its fresh- 
 ness and its summer beauty.
 
 I r 8 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 
 
 But with the thoughts of the flowers came the re- 
 membrance of his mother, and his sigh would turn 
 to a happy smile of contentment because no shame 
 arose from the mealie field or from the great tract of 
 land which lay beyond. 
 
 Tom's life was a busy one despite the lack of genial 
 companionship and the fact that the nearest neigh- 
 bours were four weary miles away and all the farms 
 just as far apart 
 
 The Boers were continually riding their pack- 
 horses up to the store, or driving in their ox-waggons, 
 for the purpose of bartering for goods and drink. 
 They would bring skins or wool, and sometimes 
 garden stuff, tied up in rags of such disgusting ap- 
 pearance that they were speedily dispensed with. 
 When Tom had been at the store only a few weeks, 
 he refused on several occasions to receive these ex- 
 changes ; and then Mr. Bates explained to him the 
 nature of the people with whom they had to deal. 
 
 "You must always take something in exchange," 
 he told Tom kindly. "It does not matter whether it 
 is worthless to us or not. The Boers are our cus- 
 tomers. They are terribly cute, and prefer to barter 
 rather than pay money, in the hope of getting the 
 best of the bargain. If once you refuse to take their 
 offer all the farmers round would hear of it, and we 
 should get a bad name and lose custom. So, when 
 you see a Boer coming to the store, you must use 
 your eyes and your tact or he will impose on your 
 ignorance and we may be considerable losers." 
 
 Tom did not forget this friendly warning, and for 
 the future he kept very strict guard over all the trans- 
 actions of the Boers. 
 
 But there was another class of customers who were 
 very welcome to all at the store, and those were the 
 travellers who were "on the road" from Durban to 
 Pretoria. These people often " outspanned" for a few 
 hours, and then was the opportunity of learning news 
 of the world and the old country. It was a source
 
 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 1 1 9 
 
 of great delight to Tom to watch for the little dim 
 shadow, which in the far distance looked like a tiny 
 cloud, gathering larger and still more large as it came 
 towards him. He knew it was the herald of the ap- 
 proach of travellers, and that the mass was but the 
 dust, the result of the team of oxen drawing: the sjreat 
 
 7 o o 
 
 heavy lumbering waggon towards the store. Their 
 progress was always slow, and Tom would watch 
 with interest the slow pace of the oxen coming across 
 the veldt, with their freight of human beings and 
 cases of goods and furniture. But sometimes, as the 
 waggon came nearer, much to Tom's chagrin, it was 
 found to be nothing more than the waggon of the 
 travelling " smouse, " making for the store to buy 
 clothes and other things suitable for emigrants com- 
 ing into the country that he might have run short of. 
 With these articles the smouse traded, visiting the 
 distant farms and homesteads, but he rarely had 
 much news to convey to the store, and he, like the 
 riders of transport, was never very welcome. 
 
 Through the kindness of Mr. Bates, Tom Gurney 
 had seen a great deal of the vast country around him. 
 He had been allowed to spend a short holiday at 
 Barkly West, the small colonial town on the bank of 
 the Vaal River. This gave him the opportunity of 
 wandering in many picturesque spots by the broad, 
 winding stream, and enjoying the beauties of the 
 scene, which to him had all the pleasure of novelty, 
 besides being a relief after the dry, barren surround- 
 ings of the store. On one occasion he had been 
 sent to Peniel on business for the manager, and Tom 
 was delighted to make acquaintance with the first 
 mining town. From there his work took him to 
 Warrentown, a low-lying district, but rich in luxuri- 
 ous gardens, fields, and fruit, nourished as it was by 
 the irrigation of the cool waters of the Vaal River. 
 There was much to impress him, and on his return 
 to the store he wrote to his father, giving him a va- 
 ried description of all he had seen, recounting graphi-
 
 120 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 cally the fort at Barkly West or Klipdrift as it was 
 once called and which had no other significance 
 than implying that the "drift" or ford situated close 
 to the town, for the accommodation of the huge ox- 
 waggons to cross the Vaal, was very stony \vhen the 
 waters were not too high to render it dangerous. 
 He described how he had stumbled and slipped over 
 the immense number of loose stones which were ly- 
 ing about on all sides, telling their silent tale of how 
 eager, trembling hands had turned them over when 
 Barkly West had been the site of the old diamond 
 "diggings." 
 
 Whenever he wrote these long letters home a long- 
 ing to have his father and sister with him always 
 arose in his mind. Yet he knew his father would 
 never settle down to the new life and his sister be- 
 come the wife of a colonist So, after all, they were 
 best in the old country. But sometimes he felt he 
 would give much to meet one gentle English girl, 
 someone with whom he could exchange a few tender, 
 refined words. But though he loved to linger over 
 the thought, he quickly banished it Was it likely 
 that the barren veldt, the heavy ox-waggon, could 
 furnish him with such a treasure? 
 
 But there is a fate even in the desert land. 
 
 One hot afternoon, as there were no customers in 
 sight, the manager locked the door of the store, and 
 he and his clerks went forth to indulge in a game of 
 cricket The ground was hot, dried, and cracked, and 
 it was some time before Tom could arrange the 
 wickets satisfactorily. At length the game began. 
 The spectators consisted of a little band of Kaffirs 
 and Swazi labourers from the store, who sat at a 
 safe distance, watching with silent, scornful wonder 
 the " white man's" eccentricities. So eager was the 
 play that a cloud of dust gradually developing in the 
 distance was unheeded, and the tent waggon, drawn 
 by fourteen slow-going oxen, came towards them. 
 
 Suddenly Tom called to his companions.
 
 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 121 
 
 " Look out, old fellows, customers are on the way. " 
 
 At this bats, balls, and wickets disappeared, and 
 they all turned to the store to be ready to supply the 
 necessities required by the advancing 1 party. 
 
 When the waggon drew up it was seen to contain 
 a middle-aged man, George Herepath, a young girl, 
 a little younger than Tom, and three small boys. 
 
 A couple of Swazis were in charge of the oxen, and 
 all seemed very fatigued after their dusty and heated 
 journey. Mr. Herepath alighted, and Tom, who had 
 lingered near the door of the store to satisfy his curi- 
 osity as to who had arrived, was the first to be ad- 
 dressed. 
 
 Tom saw with one rapid glance that the man stand- 
 ing before him was a gentleman and an Englishman, 
 two virtues highly appreciated at the store. Yet there 
 was something strikingly sad about the stranger's 
 face ; it was so grave, so devoid of happiness, that 
 it gave Tom the impression that he was either ill or 
 disappointed with his prospects in the new country, 
 and a pity arose in his heart for him even before he 
 spoke. 
 
 The voice of the stranger was subdued and almost 
 weary in its monotone as he said, 
 
 " Good-day, sir; can you tell us where we can 
 outspan for the night? We must rest a few hours, 
 replenish our stock of provisions, and look to the 
 beasts. We have kept close to the waggon road, and 
 there have been several long reaches without surface 
 water. The cattle must be both hungry and thirsty." 
 
 "Certainly," replied Tom. " Look here, "he called 
 to the two Swazis, " you can draw the waggon near 
 to the enclosure by the house, and the oxen can feed 
 a little lower down. The grass is the best we have 
 about, and there is plenty of water." 
 
 Before there was time for the stranger to utter his 
 thanks Mr. Bates came out to the waggon. 
 
 " They are an English party," said Tom, " and 
 they will outspan here for the night. I have told
 
 .132 SLA VES OF THE SA WD US T. 
 
 the men where to take the oxen. Is that right, sir? " 
 
 "Quite," replied Mr. Bates with satisfaction. "And 
 so you have come from Durban, I suppose ? " he said, 
 turning to the stranger. 
 
 " Yes, we are on our way to Pretoria," remarked 
 the man in a hopeless voice. " Sometimes I wish I 
 had never brought the chicks so far ; but here we 
 are, so I suppose I may as well make up my mind 
 to put up with It." 
 
 " How many are there of you?" asked Mr. Bates, 
 ignoring the man's discontented mood. 
 
 " My daughter and three little boys," said the man 
 sadly. "Five of us altogether. There were six when 
 .we started from England, but my wife died on the 
 voyage out, and we buried her at sea," he added in 
 a tone of deep distress. 
 
 " Well, suppose the Swazis take the waggon to the 
 outspan and you bring your little family in to supper/' 
 said Mr. Bates kindly, really sorry for the man's 
 trouble in a lone land. 
 
 The offer was gladly accepted, and soon the matter 
 of introductions was over and the party sat down to 
 a very hospitable board. Mr. Bates and Mr. Here- 
 path kept up a lengthy conversation about the country 
 in general, touching on the administration and the 
 different settlements and the local irritation in some 
 of the outlying districts ; the three younger boys 
 made merry with the clerks ; and Tom Hasketh 
 the name he had always been known by in the coun- 
 try he had adopted as his home was left to entertain 
 Fanny Herepath. 
 
 She was a finely developed girl, with dark eyes 
 and hair, and her whole appearance was one of the 
 greatest intelligence. Honesty of purpose, an out- 
 spoken manner, a determination to make the best 
 of the journey at once won Tom's admiration, and 
 his sympathy was aroused when she told him with 
 faltering voice of the death of her mother. 
 
 " I shall have father and the bovs to see after now.
 
 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. \ 33 
 
 It's a good thing I'm strong, for with health I can be 
 the right hand and do for them as mother would have, 
 wished." 
 
 " It will be a dreadful toil for you, in anew country 
 too. I am awfully sorry for you." 
 
 ' I hope I have a brave heart, "she replied stoutly. 
 " It is no use to be thinking of the work before me. 
 It is best to meet it as it comes." 
 
 " You are brave," said Tom with genuine admira- 
 tion, " and I am sure your father and brothers will 
 find you a treasure." 
 
 " I must help them all I can. The children must 
 not miss her care," she added softly. " And as to 
 father, I can make him comfortable and get a home 
 around him. Happy he will never be now mother 
 is dead. Poor father, he has lost his money and his 
 wife all in a year. This time twelvemonths death 
 and ruin seemed very faraway. It does seem years 
 since then." 
 
 Something like tears glistened in her big brown 
 eyes, and Tom offered all the consolation he. could. 
 
 " Brighter days are in store for you at Pretoria," 
 he said cheerfully. " Your father will grow strong 
 and rich, the boys will be giants in their strength 
 and health, and you will marry a rich colonist." 
 
 "Marry, and leave the children!" she repeated 
 with contempt, as if the suggestion had been almost 
 an insult when her duties lay in the little family circle. 
 "Never; I shall never leave them never," she 
 added with emphasis. 
 
 "But they will not be children always, said Tom 
 apologetically. " Of course I meant when they were 
 big boys." 
 
 "That will be a long time. Let me see, Percy is 
 only ten, and Willie eight, and Georgy seven. They 
 are all babies," she added sadly, " and motherless." 
 
 Suddenly, as if wishing to break the line of con- 
 versation and change the subject to one more pleasant, 
 she exclaimed,
 
 124- SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 " Thejourney here was most enjoyable. If novelty 
 could be said to give pleasure ; we had several ad- 
 ventures which interested me. Do you care to hear, 
 or does it bore you? I daresay my experiences will 
 be only the old stories over again." 
 
 " I shall be a most delighted listener," replied Tom. 
 " Any news is appreciated I can tell you. In this 
 region, charming as it is, the isolation from the outer 
 world is trying at times and makes us greedy for 
 incident of any kind. Please go on." 
 
 She smiled and continued, 
 
 " Coming across the veldt our trek of oxen had a 
 c scrick ' and bolted. We were afraid we should be 
 upset, but our Swazi driver handled them splendidly. 
 They ran a long distance. The boys enjoyed it, but 
 I knew the danger." 
 
 " What scared them ? " asked Tom. 
 
 " The smell of the lion skin at the back of the 
 waggon ; it is strange that oxen should be so afraid 
 of even the smell of a lion," said Fanny Herepath 
 thoughtfully. 
 
 " It is," replied Tom ; " but they must possess 
 some wonderful instinct, for it is a fact that calves 
 born in the colony and grown up here, who have 
 never seen a lion, will bolt at the smell of the skin." 
 
 " When they stopped they were very restless, 
 and our 'voorlooper' had to lead the two front 
 oxen even when there were no dangerous places for 
 him to guide them over ; but he advised us to out- 
 span for a time. So we did, or we should have ar- 
 rived here a day earlier. After that we came along 
 splendidly, until we came across a waggon which 
 had broken down on the road, and we waited to 
 help the Boer and his vrouw and children out of 
 their difficulties." 
 
 " Did you come across any of the Zulus asking for 
 tobacco, or what they call gwi? " 
 
 " Not any," said Fanny ; "are they fond of it?" 
 
 "Very. Sometimes the whole of a Zulu kraal will
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 125 
 
 surround a waggon and demand with the greatest 
 persistence gwi, and nothing will satisfy them until 
 their demands are attended to ; and it is a funny 
 sight to watch both men and women sitting smoking 
 with their bone pipes, made out of the leg bone of 
 blesbok. It's a pity you did not come across them." 
 
 " What are blesbok ? " asked Fanny. "You see," 
 she continued, " I know very little of the country at 
 present, and the name is quite unfamiliar to me." 
 
 " Blesbok, springbok, koodoo, and elands are large 
 game, and fine sport for those who have time to go 
 out gun in hand. A Kaffir brought me a slice once, 
 and showed me how to prepare it the flavour was 
 delicious." 
 
 "Have you many flowers here?" asked Fanny 
 Herepath ; "it all looks so bare, so dry and dusty." 
 
 "Well, you see, you are rather too late, and not 
 early enough for what few there are. The stony 
 roads between the low hills are covered by a plant 
 called the Vaal bush ; the perfume is sweet, the leaves 
 are often boiled and used as tea, and very pleas- 
 ant in flavour ; and I have seen lilies quite equal to 
 any met with in English greenhouses growing among 
 the rocks in the kloofs near to the springs. But, of 
 course, to my mind there can be no flowers so 
 beautiful as those which grow in the dear old coun- 
 try." 
 
 Somehow, flowers always reminded Tom of his 
 home. The blooms on the veldt spoke silently of 
 the sweet-scented roses in the cottage homes of Eng- 
 land. 
 
 "Ah! I must not think of England," said the 
 girl, rising from the table ; " where the thoughts are 
 the wish will sure to follow, and I must be content 
 where I am for the sake of the others." 
 
 Tom knew then that the girlish heart was very 
 sore, that the craving for home was very keen, and 
 what an effort it was to speak so bravely for the sake 
 of those she held so dear.
 
 126- SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 
 
 Surely no soldier went to the battlefield with more 
 heart, more courage to fight for Queen and Country. 
 
 Mr. Bates and Mr. Herepath had finished their 
 lengthy chat, and the clerks had done their best to 
 amuse the little boys. Altogether the evening had 
 been very happily spent. Tom was more struck 
 with his charming companion than he would like to 
 have owned. 
 
 And they all retired to their outspan more cheer- 
 ful for the hospitality offered them and the genial 
 companionship. 
 
 Fanny Herepath and her little brothers retired to 
 rest in the waggon, upon a thick mattress and plenty 
 of rugs, but her father occupied a tent attached to the 
 waggon, while the Swazi drivers made themselves 
 comfortable beneath it. 
 
 But Tom did not repose so peacefully. His 
 thoughts were upon Fanny Herepath, and when he 
 did fall asleep it was but to dream of her trouble 
 and her bravery, and to wish she was not going to 
 Pretoria, so far away. 
 
 When the morning at last dawned, Tom and 
 Fanny Herepath met again. This time they stood 
 outside the store, Tom helping the native labourers 
 td put tea, coffee, sugar, mealies, and flour into the 
 waggon, whilst Mr. Herepath was hearing from Mr. 
 Bates a description of the road, and where water 
 was to be met with between the store and Pretoria. 
 
 After the necessaries were loaded, Tom stayed by 
 Fanny's side, watching a group of Zulu girls, who 
 had brought maize and vegetables to the store to ex- 
 change for some beads and brass wire, which they 
 used as ornaments. 
 
 "They are very handsome girls," said Fanny with 
 admiration. 
 
 "Yes, some of the Kaffir tribes are very hand- 
 some," said Tom. "They are so tall, so erect. I 
 never saw a Kaffir woman stoop." 
 
 "How is that ? " asked Fanny with curiosity.
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 127 
 
 " The constant habit of carrying heavy Kaffir pots 
 of water on their heads. This, of course, can only 
 be done by walking very upright," replied Tom. 
 
 "Are you ready, Fanny, my girl ?" broke in her 
 father. " We shall start d'irectly. " 
 
 "Dear me! I nearly forgot that I want some 
 needles," replied the girl. "You have some here, 
 of course ? " 
 
 She went into the store with Tom. He was a 
 minute or so before he returned to her, and when he 
 did so he carried a small box in his hand. 
 
 " Will you accept this, Miss Herepath, as a little 
 remembrance of our pleasant meeting ? It contains 
 needles, pins, and cotton sufficient tor six months. 
 It will give me much pleasure if you will take it." 
 
 "Thank you, Mr. Hasketh," added the girl grate- 
 fully, whilst her flushed face betrayed how great was 
 her pleasure at the gift. "It is my first present in 
 the new country. I wonder who will give me the 
 next ? " 
 
 "Perhaps I may," said Tom. " I fancy we shall 
 meet again some day. I hope so, indeed I do." 
 
 She looked up, somewhat astonished at his earnest 
 tone. 
 
 Without thinking, she answered, 
 
 " I hope so too. It would be delightful." 
 
 All the odds and ends were in the waggon, the 
 Swazi drivers had taken their places on the waggon 
 box, the voorlooper was standing by the trek of 
 oxen, all was ready for the start. 
 
 "Good-bye," said Fanny kindly to Tom, as he 
 placed her in the waggon, "and thank you very 
 much." 
 
 "Good-bye," replied Tom quietly, as he squeezed 
 her hand in his. " We shall meet again, Miss Here- 
 path, some day. Remember me till then." 
 
 "I will," she said, as the waggon moved off. 
 " Good-bye." 
 
 Tom stood watching it growing less and less across
 
 128 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 the veldt. He saw the distant hills, one blaze of 
 golden light, the clear atmosphere casting lovely 
 and varied reflection around him. Above was the 
 bright, glowing sky, a brilliant landscape almost too 
 grand to be appreciated by mankind. 
 
 But the waggon had gone. It was hidden alto- 
 gether behind a rise in the land, and as Tom turned 
 towards the store it seemed as if some of the tints in 
 the rosy sky had faded and some of the loveliness of 
 the morning had departed. 
 
 They would meet again some day. He was sure 
 of that 
 
 And so was she.
 
 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 1 29 
 
 CHAPTER XIL 
 
 
 
 "MOTHER ! LEILA ! " 
 
 FIVE years had passed, and to Leila they had been 
 very weary years. Never very strong in health, the 
 life had told upon her delicate constitution. Per- 
 forming as she was obliged, at the circus with Cas- 
 telli every day, sometimes twice, and the constant 
 moving from place to place, either on the Continent 
 or in England, fatigued her dreadfully. However, 
 worn out and tired, she must move on when her 
 duties called her. There had been no home life, 
 nothing but exchanging one set of apartments for 
 another, one town for the next Added to this she 
 had the heavy responsibilities of motherhood. Two 
 children, a little fair girl of four and a delicate boy 
 of three years, claimed her love and her care. To 
 them Leila was devoted. It was for their sakes that 
 she struggled so bravely against the hardships of her 
 life. It was for them that she faced her husband's 
 anger and toiled as the slave at the galley. 
 
 Had it not been for the kindness of some of the 
 wives of the riders, and other artistes, Leila would 
 have had a much harder time of it than she had, for 
 some of them were always willing to "mind" the 
 children whilst the mother was at her rehearsals, 
 and in the evening they would offer to let one of 
 their children go up and sit with them until they fell 
 asleep. These acts of genuine kindness touched 
 Leila to the heart, and bound her with a debt of 
 gratitude and love to those so far beneath her. 
 
 It had been a terrible time for Leila when she had
 
 130 
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 awakened to the true character of her much loved 
 husband, when she found how hard and cruel he 
 was. At first the dawning of the truth stupefied her, 
 she could not grasp the situation. But the conscious- 
 ness came all too soon, and she knew then the 
 awfulness of her position. 
 
 Discarded by her father, and as she thought by her 
 brother also, for she had not heard from Tom since 
 her marriage, the wife of a man who had forgotten 
 the love he had promised her when he first sought 
 and won her girlish heart was it any wonder that 
 she looked back on the past, sometimes revelling in 
 the visions which memory raised in moments when 
 she was free from care? These feelings of the by- 
 gone days were the only joy, the only light piercing 
 through the gloom, and she welcomed them with an 
 unhealthy yearning. 
 
 Poor Leila, was it not a shame that a husband's 
 harshness, a husband's cruelty should dispel the 
 promised love and joy, and that grief and fear should 
 break the dream once so fraught with bliss? 
 
 Bui alas, it was so ! 
 
 Five years of dark shadows had not tended to im- 
 prove Leila's character. A great deal of the gen- 
 tleness and sweetness of disposition was changed. 
 She had grown cold, unbending, doing her duty, and 
 suffering in silence, asking neither for praise nor 
 sympathy. It was only when Castelli was displeased 
 with her that any of the old and more kindly nature 
 showed itself. His power over her was as strong 
 as in the earlier days. Sometimes she would plead 
 with him not to speak such cruel words, to kiss her 
 just once. 
 
 But he refused the transient pleasure that love 
 demanded, and Leila would turn away and try to 
 crush the pain and still her throbbing heart. 
 
 Once when she was rehearsing, too weary and 
 depressed to take much interest in her work, a sharp 
 cut from his whip and a fearful oath from his lips
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 13! 
 
 caused her to faint from actual physical pain and 
 fear. It was the first time he had ever struck her, 
 and like a crushed flower she bent her head and 
 dared not look up for very shame. 
 
 She would have left him after that, but the mother- 
 hood within her bade her stay. Must she not guard 
 the little ones, and shield them, and be the bright 
 star to shine over them through all the miseries of 
 their roving life ? to be near to comfort them, to dry 
 the tears from the baby faces, to win back the smiles 
 to rosy lips ? Yes, that was her duty. 
 
 Fear, shame, and despair must be endured for their 
 sweet sakes the tender, the young, from whose lips 
 the divine words " mother" gave Leila such intense 
 happiness. For them she would have sacrificed her 
 life if the need arose, and yet their father was the 
 man from whom she had received the greatest 
 insults. 
 
 But she was their mother. 
 
 The circus had been in Pan's some time, and 
 Castelli and Leila had done much by their perform- 
 ances to draw large audiences to the cirque in the 
 Champs Elysees, and the weeks had passed more 
 quietly than usual. Her apartments off the Faubourg 
 St. Honor& were comfortable, and if the street was 
 small at least it was quiet, and this Leila enjoyed 
 after the wear and tear of constant travelling. 
 
 The Lenten gloom was over, and Eastertide, with 
 its joys and pleasure, had begun. The streets were 
 so full that it was hard work to get along ; the cafes 
 were crammed with men, women, and children ; 
 some of the visitants were sitting sipping their coffee 
 and cognac at the small round marble tables outside 
 and enjoying the passing and repassing of the 
 mighty throng. 
 
 There was life and pleasure everywhere. 
 
 Leila, carrying her baby boy and guiding Vanda 
 as best she could, hurried through the crowded 
 streets. She looked so pale and weary that the people
 
 132 
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 at the tables gave her glances of sympathy as she 
 passed, and murmured words of pity, and ceased 
 their chattering to watch her on her way. 
 
 " Keep close to me, Vanda, darling, or mother 
 will lose you/' 
 
 " How far is it now, mother? " 
 
 " Not far, darling." 
 
 Leila was getting exhausted, the weight of her boy 
 was considerable ; but she hurried on, looking 
 neither to the right nor left, and never paused until 
 she reached the Bodega in the Rue Rivote. She was 
 about to enter, when a short, dark man of about 
 thirty years of age stepped up to her. 
 
 "You are here first, then, Ringens," said Leila, 
 calling him by the name he adopted as a clown the 
 children had always called the clown Ringens, and 
 so the custom had grown until his real name was 
 nearly lost. 
 
 "Your husband told me you would be here at 
 five, it is now nearly half-past." 
 
 " The boy was so heavy," panted Leila, " and the 
 crowd so great, I had difficulty in getting Vanda 
 along." 
 
 " Let me take the child," said the man kindly. 
 "He's much too heavy for you. You must have 
 some cognac before we start." 
 
 Leila was exhausted by her efforts, and she drank 
 the brandy eagerly. How gladly would she have 
 rested at home that one evening of freedom. She 
 had ridden twice that afternoon, and during the fete 
 week the evening performance was more varied, and 
 Leila for once was free. 
 
 She had decided to take her children for a treat to 
 ihefe/e to give them a holiday ; but almost at the 
 last moment her husband had forbidden her to go 
 unaccompanied. If she could find one of the artistes 
 to go with her, well and good, if not, she must 
 remain with the children at home. 
 
 By mere chance she learned that Ringens was not
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 133 
 
 to appear in the evening-, and she begged him to 
 assist her in carrying out her plan. 
 
 If her husband were willing, Ringens was, and so 
 the children spent their holiday at the_///e. 
 
 Dick Wynscote, known in the ring as Ringens, 
 was much respected by his fellow-artistes and those 
 connected with the different circuses he visited. His 
 character was beyond suspicion. He never thought 
 it necessary to use profane oaths, or in any way to dis- 
 grace his name as husband and father. He had 
 married a country lassie whom he had loved since 
 boyish days ; and much as he liked to have her with 
 him, he never allowed her to undergo the fatigues of 
 a Gontinential tour. 
 
 " My wife and the babies are best in London," he 
 would say when inquiries were made about Mrs. 
 Wynscote. 
 
 And Leila wished sometimes that Castelli would be 
 as thoughtful for her, but then she earned good sal- 
 aries, and Mrs. Wynscote had nothing to do but care 
 for her home and her children. 
 
 At one great circus Dick Wynscote had been 
 christened in derision "Saint Ringens," because on 
 Sunday morning he regularly attended the service at 
 the cathedral. "It is better to be a saint than a 
 sinner," he would reply, "and I intend to serve my 
 God as well as I serve my master." 
 
 Upon this point he was always firm, and Leila 
 would sometimes gain much comfort when he spoke 
 to her of a higher life where the toil and misery would 
 end for ever. Indeed he had been her one friend 
 during the long Continential tour, and Castelli had 
 made no objection to their chats and strolls ; and 
 this was a great pleasure to Leila. 
 
 So it was, as it will be for ever, the power of good 
 asserted itself, and was felt even by those whose 
 ways are ill and whose deeds are dark. 
 
 Relieved of the child, she managed to get along 
 better, and they were soon in the great public gar-
 
 134 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 dens. They wandered about for some time show- 
 ing 1 the children all likely to interest them, and then 
 Ring-ens suggested they should take some seats 
 within a cafe chantant and listen to the concert about 
 to begin. A magnificent band had already com- 
 menced a lively waltz, the gardens were one blaze 
 of lamps and light, the people were preparing- with 
 a graceful yet matter of course air for the coming 
 cheap amusement. Leila was glad enough to rest. 
 
 The first artiste to appear was quite a young girl, 
 who in a bespangled dress flaunted her coarse, bold 
 manners to the immense delight of the audience. 
 With apparent relish she sang a song which caused 
 Leila to flush deeply. She was ashamed of her sex, 
 but the people a'pplauded and would have an encore, 
 and the girl grew more forward with her successful 
 reception, more vulgar, more loose in her songs. 
 At last she left the stage with a knowing wink and 
 a nod, much to everyone's amusement, but Leila 
 felt nothing but disgust and annoyance. 
 
 Her natural refinement rebelled against anything 
 which tended to pander to low tastes, and she had 
 frequently desisted from visiting many of the cafe 
 chantants in the towns in which they had been resi- 
 dent, because the amusements provided had been 
 distasteful to her. 
 
 She was true to her instincts through all. 
 
 Vanda began to fidget, and Leila said gently, 
 
 " Sit still, dear. What is the matter ? " 
 
 "I am so tired, mother," said Vanda wearily. 
 "Can't we go home?" 
 
 "Yes, darling, soon." And then she leant forward 
 to speak to Ringens, who sat in a chair before her 
 nursing Adrian, who had fallen asleep. "I think I 
 must go soon," she said in a tone of half apology, 
 "the children are so tired." 
 
 " Do you mind hearing one more song, and then 
 we will go? Coloris is going to sing. I heard her 
 six years ago in Brussels at the Casino. She was
 
 SLATES OF THE SAWDUST. 13$ 
 
 a fine woman, really beautiful, with a good voice." 
 
 "Coloris, what a funny name," said Leila, some- 
 what interested. 
 
 "Yes, but it means colouring, a tint on a picture, 
 and it was applicable to her, her face was so bril- 
 liant and her complexion rich and dark. She is Eng- 
 lish, too, and must be getting on now. I thought 
 she had left the Casino business long ago." 
 
 " Has she any children?" inquired Leila. 
 
 "I really do not know. I am afraid there has been 
 some scandal attached to her name. I heard so, 
 but do not let that bias you against her, because it 
 may not be true." 
 
 Leila had no time to respond, for the curtain went 
 up and a tall, elegant woman stepped to the front of 
 the stage. She was dressed in a white silk robe 
 which had seen its best days. The lace and the rib- 
 bons had been evidently added, but with all she was 
 beautiful. The contour of her limbs could be seen 
 as the clinging silk fell in scanty folds. Her face 
 was thin, but the glow of colour was there in the 
 shape of two brilliant patches on either cheek. So 
 strange, so weird did she look in the blaze of the 
 footlights that most of the audience instantly fixed 
 their eyes upon her in comparative silence, wonder- 
 ing whether her quick, hurried breathing was nervous- 
 ness or illness. Thinking to encourage her, they 
 stamped with their feet and clapped their hands 
 lustily. 
 
 It was during this tumult that Leila, white as 
 death, rose from her seat and left the cafe hurriedly. 
 
 Ringens, who had seen her leave, followed her 
 hastily. When they had reached the quiet gardens 
 he asked her if she were ill. 
 
 "No, not ill," she gasped faintly, " but I have had 
 a great shock. "Coloris is " she paused " is my 
 mother ! " 
 
 "Your mother, Madame Castelli ! " replied Dick 
 Wynscote in amazement, "it cannot be."
 
 136 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 " It is it is she." She trembled so violently that he 
 feared she would fall to the ground. 
 
 "Shall 1 fetch someone to you? Shall I go for 
 your husband ? ' said Ringens, now deeply con- 
 cerned. 
 
 " My husband ! " The word seemed to make her 
 realise the situation at once, and in a distressed tone 
 she cried : " Leave me alone for one minute, I shall 
 soon be all right ; but don't send for Emilio what- 
 ever you do ; don't tell him I have seen her, will 
 you ? " she asked pleadingly. 
 
 " Certainly not, if you don't wish it," replied 
 Ringens, wondering what all the mystery meant. 
 
 She recovered soon, however, and said quickly, 
 
 "Give me Adrian. Get me a carriage; I will go 
 back to my rooms. And you, I want you to go at 
 once and find out my mother's position and what 
 she needs before I see her. Break it to her gently, 
 but tell her I will come and see her to-morrow. 
 She is dying, lam sure of that!" exclaimed Leila 
 with great excitement. "Please don't delay or I may 
 lose her again for ever." 
 
 Ringens placed her in a cab, and after seeing that 
 she and her children were comfortable, he hurried 
 back to the cafe chaniant,, but the wearied singer was 
 gone. After some difficulty he found her address, 
 and thither he proceeded at once. 
 
 In a small and frowsy room on the top floor of an 
 old, wretched house on the other side of the river, he 
 saw the broken-down woman. She was sitting in a 
 faded dressing-gown when he entered, leaning with 
 her head back on a heap of soiled cushions. 
 
 He explained his business, and gave her Leila's 
 message. She listened attentively, not breaking the 
 silence once. There was only the deepening of the 
 crimson flush to show how strongly she was battling 
 with her feelings. 
 
 She heard that her daughter was the wife of Emilio 
 Castelli, that Leila was the mother of two little chil-
 
 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 
 
 137 
 
 dren, and that she wished to come to see her on the 
 morrow. 
 
 Then it was that some of the vigour of olden days 
 came back, and she paced the room with hurried 
 steps. Suddenly she exclaimed, 
 
 "You've come hereto tell me of my daughter. 
 You tell me she is married to a man who belongs to 
 a circus. They let her come to that, did they? Any- 
 thing was good enough for the child of the erring 
 mother, the runaway wife. Perhaps you do not 
 know the story, do you?" she asked wildly. 
 
 "Certainly not," replied Ringens. "I never 
 knew until to-night that Madame Castelli had a 
 mother. ' 
 
 "Mother, mother," she repeated, " can I call my- 
 self a mother? / who left her years ago, /who 
 brought shame on her name and ruin to her home. 
 I'm not fit to see her, not fit to stand in the same 
 room or breathe the same air that she does. What 
 greater curse can rest upon me than that? And yet," 
 and her voice became more gentle, " I yearn to tell 
 her that I repent of all my sin, that I am contrite, and 
 implore her forgiveness. Oh, if but for one short 
 hour I could feel happy, if I could clasp my children 
 in my arms, if I could," her voice fell " if I could 
 hear my husband say, 'I forgive you.' If I could 
 feel his lips touch mine I should die happy ; but he 
 would hurl curses at me who wrought his ruin, and 
 his fury would fall upon me now for the awful past. 
 I am deserted, despised, corrupted, and lost." She 
 grew more excited as she continued. "Would it 
 not have been kinder to have plunged myself into 
 the sea f The record of my life would have gone 
 then, and my child could not have seen me as I am 
 degraded and shunned by all. But let her come 
 if she will, let her see my doom, let her hear me 
 curse my destroyer before I die. She shall see how 
 he left me to exist, without money, without friends, 
 like a dog in the street ; how he spurned me as an
 
 138 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 evil thing, and hurled me to destruction. Curses, 
 curses on Herbert Clifford ! " 
 
 She sank down exhausted, and then Dick Wynscote 
 saw how dreadfully ill she really was. He thought 
 it best to ignore her terrible story, and inquired if she 
 needed anything to ease her panting, laboured breath. 
 
 " Want anything ? " she repeated. " Do you know 
 I spent my last franc yesterday? To-day I have 
 only eaten from that loaf," pointing to a small piece 
 on a plate, "and that is all I have had. I have been 
 long without an engagement. I cannot earn much 
 now. My voice has no strength and my heart is 
 broken and I am dying, I know it," she added sor- 
 rowfully, 
 
 Dick Wynscote took a handful of francs from his 
 pocket and laid them on the table. 
 
 "I am sure your daughter would like you to send 
 for what you need. Please do so, and to-morrow, 
 please God, you shall see her." 
 
 He rose to go. There was nothing he could say 
 to the poor half-frenzied mother. He was horrified 
 at all he had heard, and had no desire to prolong the 
 interview. 
 
 He put out his hand and grasped hers kindly, and 
 bid her good-night. 
 
 He went home and wondered how men could ruin 
 homes, and bring those they tempted to sin to such 
 degradation and misery. 
 
 He forgot it was vice, not love. 
 
 The next day Ringens related to Leila his experi- 
 ence of the night before, and he urged her to tell her 
 husband and get his consent to remove the unhappy 
 woman to more congenial surroundings ; but to this 
 Leila was strongly opposed. She would do all she 
 could for her mother, and supply her with money, 
 but Emilio should be none the wiser ; for had he not 
 thrust the mother's sin at the daughter and taunted 
 her with the shame? But she could not tell that to 
 Ringens, so she ignored his advice.
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 139 
 
 "She is so hopeless, so desponding, she will need 
 all your care and kindness," he said, just before she 
 started on her sad errand. 
 
 "She shall have it," replied Leila gravely. 
 
 " Mother ! " " Leila ! " They had met in one 
 fond embrace. "Leila, my Leila!" What tortur- 
 ing retribution, what wild remorse that name called 
 forth ! 
 
 ' ' Mother, dear mother. n 
 
 The angels of mercy and forgiveness were hover- 
 ing around, therefore break not the hallowed spell. 
 
 Hush 1 Hush 1
 
 140 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 "MY A U N T'S MONEY." 
 
 DEATH had come sorrows and sickness were over 
 the earthly pilgrimage finished. Whanks' aunt 
 was dead at last. 
 
 But the letter telling him the news, and requesting 
 his presence in York to wind up her affairs and prove 
 the will, did not reach him until she had been buried 
 some weeks. It had followed him about to several 
 Continental towns, but it was not until the circus had 
 anchored for a time in Liverpool that the important 
 missive caught him up. 
 
 At last, after much patient waiting, he had come 
 in to his property, and in future he would be the 
 master of his own actions. 
 
 He read and re-read the letter from the solicitors, 
 as if afraid there was some mistake. Then he turned 
 the enclosed cheque for ten pounds over and over, 
 as if the more readily to understand its value. It 
 had been sent him to meet his immediate expenses 
 and to defray his journey to York. 
 
 He decided that he must ask Castelli's permission 
 to go at once, and then he would write to the solici- 
 tors and tell them he would arrive in York the next 
 day. 
 
 But, unluckily for Whanks, before he could carry 
 out these practical arrangements, his craving to have 
 "a drink to his luck" overcame his discretion, and 
 after asking a few of his " chums " to join him, he 
 retired to the "Three Arms" public-house, where 
 several hours were passed in discussing his pros-
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 141 
 
 pects and good fortune, while his glass had been 
 refilled many times. 
 
 At last, drunk and excited, he presented himself 
 before his master at the circus. 
 
 Castelli, who had no idea of his groom's good luck, 
 lost his temper, so the inebriated servant and the 
 angry master engaged in a quarrel which did credit 
 to neither of them. 
 
 Oath after oath fell from Castelli's lips as Whanks, 
 contrary to custom, answered him with equal 
 warmth, and when he refused to leave his presence 
 before he had told him " what he thought of him " 
 Castelli's rage knew no bounds, and he struck him a 
 heavy blow. This maddened Whanks, who blurted 
 out in a thick voice some home truths respecting his 
 treatment of Leila. " Everyone shall know you've 
 broken her heart," he cried out passionately. " But 
 I've got my aunt's money now, and " But further 
 conversation was arrested, for Castelli took Whanks 
 by the collar of his coat, and after shaking him 
 vigorously and telling him never to show his face 
 again at the circus, he hurled him into the passage 
 leading to the stables. 
 
 Leila was standing in her riding-habit, ready for a 
 rehearsal, when Whanks was thus summarily dis- 
 missed. He almost fell against her as she was 
 leaving her dressing-room. 
 
 "What is the matter, Emilio?" she exclaimed, 
 looking at the prostrate groom and her irate hus- 
 band. 
 
 " Cannot you see for yourself that the beast is 
 drunk ! Out he goes this time, once and for all." 
 
 " You need not be so rough even if he is intox- 
 icated," replied Leila with spirit. " He is kind and 
 good to us when he is sober." 
 
 All the indifferent treatment she had received from 
 her husband had not crushed the loving heart, it was 
 just as tender for those in trouble ; and to anyone 
 in need of sympathy and protection she always
 
 I 4 2 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 strove to give her support and assistance. She 
 would speak out even at the risk of incurring her 
 husband's terrible anger. She had suffered so 
 acutely herself that the pain of seeing others suffer 
 was in itself renewed agony ; and her sympathy for 
 Whanks was intense. He had been her friend on 
 so many occasions, surely she must plead for him 
 now. 
 
 "How dare you question my actions, Leila?" 
 said Castelli angrily. " He's dead drunk and needs 
 a good thrashing to bring him round. Come to your 
 work, and leave me to manage for myself. I don't 
 need your advice," he added severely. 
 
 Whanks in the mean time had picked himself 
 up from his lowly position, and leaning against 
 the wall for support, looked at Leila in a helpless 
 stupid fashion, which angered Castelli more than 
 ever. 
 
 Ignoring his remark, Leila addressed Whanks 
 kindly. 
 
 ' ' Go home, there's a good fellow. I cannot talk 
 to you now. Go and get some food and sleep and 
 you will be all right to-night/' pleaded Leila. 
 
 " You hold your tongue at once ! " replied her 
 husband. " Once more let me tell you I am wait- 
 ing for you," he added impatiently. 
 
 She went towards him quietly and calmly but there 
 was a subdued defiance in her eyes and manner 
 which did not escape her husband's notice. 
 
 He knew she was charing against the restraints he 
 imposed upon her, and that her duties in the ring 
 fretted her continually, but so long as her defiance 
 did not openly betray itself he was satisfied ; for her 
 inward sufferings he cared little. Once or twice, 
 when they were on the Continent, his attention had 
 been called by Ringens and others to his wife's 
 delicate health ; her pale, care-worn face, with its 
 brilliant hectic flush, her large eyes looking like 
 those of a hunted fawn, had drawn very honest
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 143 
 
 sympathy from those engaged at the circus. But 
 this commiseration had not the slightest effect upon 
 Castelli. He was considerably annoyed that his wife 
 should be under their discussion at all, and he 
 frankly told them that it was no business of theirs, 
 and that his wife was well enough and that he did 
 not mean to have her made into" an invalid ; perhaps 
 they would look after their own wives and leave him 
 to do the same. 
 
 They never interfered again. But Ringens and 
 Whanks watched her grow more fragile every day. 
 They saw the flush deepen upon the slightest exer- 
 tion, and at times her eyes grew bright as stars and 
 she would seem nervous and restless as her time 
 came to go into the ring. 
 
 Once in Brussels, when she seemed unusually 
 tired, Whanks had ventured to advise that she should 
 rest a little, he was so fond of the young girl who 
 had come among them, and her husband's neglect 
 and severity had been a source of great trouble to 
 the faithful servant, and Leila, grateful for any small 
 kindness, returned his devotion ungrudgingly. 
 
 " No, I cannot rest, Whanks," she replied, amused 
 at his tender thoughts for her health. " Your master 
 would not approve of that; he would think I was 
 lazy." 
 
 She smiled but there was such a sad look on her 
 face as she did so that Whanks felt, as he afterwards 
 described it to a fellow-groom, " as if he could have 
 cried like a baby." 
 
 " The master is as hard as a brick, and terribly 
 cruel at times, and if I was in your place I'd " 
 
 " Hush," interposed Leila firmly, " you must not 
 speak so ; he is my husband." 
 
 " More's the pity, that's what I says," replied 
 Whanks, unabashed at the reproof; " more's the 
 pity," he repeated. 
 
 There were others who thought the same, but 
 Leila did not know it. She was unaware of all the
 
 144 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 kindly feelings bestowed upon her by those around 
 simply because she was Castelli's wife and the 
 mother of his children. 
 
 But so it was. 
 
 The next day when Castelli went down to the 
 circus, expecting to find Whanks as usual, for his 
 notice to quit had so far been a mere form, he was 
 surprised at his non-appearance. 
 
 In answer to his inquiries, he was told that 
 Whanks had come into some money and had started 
 or was going to start to York that day. Castelli 
 could hardly believe that the man was gone, he had 
 been so accustomed to scold him for his faults, to 
 use horrible oaths, to give him notice to quit his 
 service and then retain him, that he supposed nat- 
 urally this occasion would not in any way differ 
 from the others ; but to his dismay he found the 
 faithful retainer gone at last. The day wore on, but 
 still no Whanks appeared, and as the evening 
 approached he sent a messenger to the man's apart- 
 ments. He had gone away by train that morning, 
 that was all they knew about him. He had told 
 them he was not going to the circus again as business 
 called him to York. This put Castelli to the greatest 
 inconvenience in the ring, having to find a substitute 
 at so short a notice, and Leila passed a very uncom- 
 fortable hour with her husband previous to the 
 evening " show." He abused Whanks heartily, and 
 used such terrible expletives that she felt almost 
 afraid to be in his presence ; yet she dared not 
 interrupt him or suggest that he had dismissed the 
 man himself and therefore could not blame him. 
 She only sat and listened, sighing now and again. 
 
 Whanks, unconscious of all the trouble his absence 
 had caused in the circus, had spent a few very busy 
 hours in York. He had seen the solicitors and was 
 satisfied with the interview, and as he sauntered 
 down to his apartments through Bootham Bar, he 
 was meditating what his best plans for the future
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 145 
 
 would be. Leave the" circus profession he was most 
 determined. He knew he had no strength to with- 
 stand the temptations of his old surroundings. He 
 would break with them once and for all ; and when 
 he entered Gillygate he had made up his mind that 
 his only chance to get on would be to go away, as 
 soon as his arrangements were completed in York, 
 and not to put himself in the touch of his old com- 
 rades again. 
 
 He felt happier after making this resolve, and it 
 was not until he was standing at the window of his 
 sitting-room, looking out on the short garden backed 
 by the crumbling city walls for it was not in the 
 days of restoration, which enables us to walk around 
 the city ramparts that his thoughts became centred 
 upon Leila and her children. In his excitement he 
 had forgotten that he must part with them also, 
 that giving up the circus meant that Leila would be 
 left without a friend. And then there would be the 
 good-bye to be said, and perhaps he should never 
 see her again. Why should he not go back to the 
 circus and keep sober, and he could be a friend still 
 to the pale, weary wife ? Then his thoughts rambled 
 on to his condition. The very last time he had 
 seen her had he not disgraced himself, and stood 
 before her besotted and incapable of protecting him- 
 self from Castelli's wrath ? Like a hound she had 
 seen him flung at her feet. No, he would not go 
 back. He would write to her one last letter and tell 
 her his plans and his hopes. 
 
 He called for paper and ink, and sat down to his 
 self-imposed task as if fearful of altering his decision. 
 
 " GILLYGATE, 
 
 " YORK. 
 
 " DEAR Miss LEILA, It is right that kindness should 
 never be forgotten. To remember it is the fruit of 
 friendship. Poor outcast as I am you were never 
 too proud to befriend me, although I took more to 
 
 10
 
 I 4 6 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 drink than I should. I trusted too much to the beer 
 before I knew the effect of the habit, and I shall re- 
 pent all the carousing until I die. I hope you will 
 believe that, Miss Leila God forgive me for calling 
 you Miss Leila. The old proverb says, 'What is 
 well begun is half ended.' I began to call you Miss 
 Leila years ago, and somehow the old name rises 
 on my lips, and I should like to end with it, so you 
 must forgive me. They say everyone has two ways 
 of thinking, and I think it would have been best if 
 you had been Miss Leila to the last. But you think 
 differently I suppose. 
 
 " I am not coming back again to the circus. Tell 
 my master that the worm he trod on has turned at 
 last that the grain of my patience has run out. 
 But I am writing to wish you good-bye and good 
 luck, and to tell you that I have my aunt's money, 
 so I am going away to some other country where, 
 I don't quite know yet. If I stay in England all my 
 money will soon be spent, and then it will be too 
 late, and all will be done for. I shall try and get 
 some work in the new place because I could not 
 live and do nothing and it's 'better to play a 
 small game than stand out.' That's a motto my 
 poor aunt was fond of saying to me years ago, 
 poor dear. 
 
 "I have been thinking what keepsake I could 
 send you, but on second thoughts I think the master 
 might not like me to send you a gift, so I shall send 
 you a promise instead, which is, that for your sake 
 I shall keep out of the public-house. That is a keep- 
 sake turned the wrong way about, but I think it will 
 be one that will please you. 
 
 "I was going to give a 'foy' to some of my 
 chums before I leave the old country, but I have 
 made up my mind not to do it, in case I am a fool 
 again and don't resist the drink. They may expect 
 me to treat them, but when I think of you, Miss 
 Leila, I determine to be steady.
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 147 
 
 "Miss Leila, will you say good-bye to the chil- 
 dren for me. Tell them Whanks sends his love, and 
 he will never forget them. I am a bit troubled about 
 the master's horses. I loved them all, they all knew 
 me, and ' Spanishfly ' would neigh every time I 
 went to her stall ; and now they are left to other 
 hands. Perhaps there is no one to stroke them and 
 soothe them after the whip, I think they must look 
 for me sometimes and wonder where I am. I wish 
 you could tell them all about it, and set their hearts 
 at rest. I would have come and seen them my- 
 self, but I couldn't face the farewell, I'm such a 
 mortal coward. My aunt left me four hundred 
 pounds. No more news. So once more I bid you 
 good-bye, Miss Leila, And remain your devoted 
 servant, WHANKS." 
 
 "P. S. God bless you, the children, and the 
 horses. I never mean to get drunk again." 
 
 When Leila received this characteristic letter from 
 Whanks she was filled with grief at the loss of her 
 old friend for such she had learnt to regard him. 
 As her husband's treatment of her became worse she 
 had relied more on the faithful servant, and he had 
 always been specially kind to her and devoted to 
 her children. 
 
 In the mother's heart regret at Whanks' departure 
 was very sincere, but the loss of him for her little 
 ones touched her more deeply. Whanks to them 
 had been everything. What time he had he devoted 
 to them for little walks. How many pence he had 
 spent to please their childish fancies, how tender 
 and gentle he had been to them, and often, when 
 Leila was heart-broken and weary, he had fetched 
 the children for a bit that she might rest. 
 
 At the rehearsals, too, he had, as he expressed it, 
 " kept an eye on Miss Leila if the master was in one 
 of his tantrums," and it had been his special pride to
 
 1-4 8 SLATES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 keep her mare well groomed and to send her into 
 the ring the smartest horse in the stables. And now 
 there would be no one to do all these kindly offices for 
 her and the children, no one to whom they could look 
 for uniform kindness and attention. Somehow Leila 
 had felt a sort of safety and protection in Whanks, 
 an undefined feeling that nothing very terrible 
 could happen to her or the little ones as long as he 
 was near to them. She could hardly realise all this 
 was at an end, that the old familiar face would never 
 cheer her again with its welcome smile, that happi- 
 ness was gone now, the pleasure past. The future 
 must be faced, but it would be more lonely, more 
 weary now he was gone. 
 
 There was a void in her life because the true-hearted 
 friend and servant was gone. 
 
 ' ' Friend and servant. " The world will sneer at the 
 affinity. Let it scoff and express doubt with ludi- 
 crous scorn that such a thing can exist. It matters 
 not, for the association lives despite contempt and 
 disdain. That is well. 
 
 Whanks had been the soul of loyalty to his mis- 
 tress, and a very pattern true-blue to his master. 
 Leila knew this, and appreciated him deeply, con- 
 sequently his loss seemed to her most serious. But 
 her husband viewed the matter much more cooly, 
 and when she expressed in strong terms her sorrow 
 at the man's departure, he replied, 
 
 "Don't be a fool. I can get a groom before this 
 time to-morrow better than Whanks fifty times over. 
 He was a drunken beast. I'm glad he's gone." 
 
 "He was so kind to me and the children," said 
 Leila. " I shall miss him dreadfully. The place 
 won't seem the same," she added wearily. 
 
 "Pity you did not go with him if that's how the 
 matter stands," replied Castelli with a sneer. 
 
 Leila was silent, but a flush of shame overspread 
 her face at his despicable words. Why did he im- 
 pute sinful thoughts to her when she had remained
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 149 
 
 faithful and true through all his cruelty, all his 
 harshness, without a murmur or wifely retaliation ? 
 
 But his words made another wound in her heart. 
 No wonder she felt alone and grieved when another 
 friend was gone. 
 
 She never spoke to Castelli of Whanks after that 
 day, and she hushed the children in his presence 
 when they spoke together of " dear old Whankie." 
 
 The gulf between husband and wife was growing 
 deeper and wider. The bridge of unity and confi- 
 dence had long since been destroyed. 
 
 It was impossible to reunite the structure. 
 
 A week after Leila had received her letter from 
 Whanks a ship was moving slowly out of the Mer- 
 sey docks in Liverpool. Very stately she looked as 
 she glided towards the open sea, bound for foreign 
 lands. Many of her passengers stood on the deck, 
 waving their hands and handkerchiefs to the loved 
 ones left behind. One man stood a little apart from 
 the rest. He never glanced at the group of dis- 
 tressed friends on the quay. He never heeded a young 
 girl by his side, weeping for the mother left behind. 
 He only turned his face seaward and cried, " God 
 bless Miss Leila God bless her," he said solemnly, 
 and something like tears made their way down his 
 rugged cheeks. "My heart is with you to the last, 
 Miss Leila, to the last, though you may never know 
 it." 
 
 The Southern Cross sped on her way, carrying her 
 freight of gladdened hearts and sorrow-laden lives 
 some going to those who had waited patiently for 
 years for their outcoming, others had left home, wife, 
 and children to seek fortune in a far-off country. 
 
 Whanks had gone to begin a new life, to avoid the 
 temptations he could not resist. 
 
 Lelia was left behind to mourn a faithful friend 
 gone forever. 
 
 Such is life.
 
 1 5 o SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 "THE WAGES OF SIN." 
 
 THERE is a tenderness born in the soul which breathes 
 out memories that can never die a sweetness sown 
 at birth and cherished lovingly until hoary age. 
 
 That is a mother's love. 
 
 What a mystery lies in that tenderness. Surely 
 there is magic in the sound of the golden strings 
 which strain the tune of a mother's love; surely the 
 sweet voice comes back, bringing with it visions of 
 beauty and rapture forever the same like a meteor's 
 flash they brighten the darkest night, and light the 
 shadows when the world is full of woe, and hopes 
 lie dead. 
 
 How divine a thing it is ! 
 
 But when the coils of sin wind themselves round 
 the bonds of love so that its beauties are hidden, its 
 fragrance gone, its exaltation defiled, how terrible is 
 the curse. 
 
 Leila, more or less, had felt her mother's shame 
 since the day she became Castelli's wife. Some 
 slight, some word brought to her the taint of a 
 mother's depravity, and she had constantly to bear 
 the burden of another's wrong. 
 
 It was nearly six months since Leila had seen her 
 mother on the stage ot the co/e chantant in Paris. 
 During that time the dying woman had wanted for 
 nothing that love and money could procure. At 
 first she seemed to rally, and Leila began to hope 
 that she would regain her health as time went on. 
 But how vain was such a hope. The runaway wife, 
 the discarded mistress, the broken-hearted mother
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 151 
 
 was fast fading away, and death was hovering near. 
 
 Unknown to her husband, Leila had gladdened 
 her mother's last days on earth ; and it was not 
 until an act of carelessness on her part betrayed the 
 secret that Castelli had the slightest idea of the clan- 
 destine meetings between Leila and her mother. 
 Inadvertently she had left a letter directed to her 
 on the table whilst she went into another room to 
 dress, preparatory to going to the post-office. Cas- 
 telli returned somewhat unexpectedly from the circus 
 and found the missive. An angry flush passed over 
 his face as he read the address, Mrs. Gurney, Scot- 
 land Road, Liverpool. 
 
 "So her wretched mother has come on the scene, 
 has she ? " he murmured, and without the slightest 
 scruple he tore the letter open. He read the few 
 loving lines, which sent a postal order for rent and 
 food, and then, with an imprecation, he hastily put 
 it in his pocket. 
 
 Leila entered the room at this moment, and seeing 
 her letter was gone, she divined the truth at once. 
 
 The worst was at hand her secret was out at 
 last, there was no need to confess it. Her letter 
 had told him all. There were only the consequences 
 of her deceit to bear, and the sooner the explanation 
 was over the better. Outwardly she was very calm, 
 but her heart throbbed loudly, and it was with diffi- 
 culty she restrained her voice from showing how 
 much she dreaded the ordeal. 
 
 For a moment she stood confronting him, and then 
 she spoke. 
 
 " You have taken a letter of mine from the table I 
 believe," she added quietly. " It is a private affair 
 of my own, please give it to me." 
 
 She looked at him. He stood silently before her, 
 pale, firm, and resolute, like a man who had deter- 
 mined upon a resolution and intended to carry it 
 out without flinching. 
 
 At last he broke the terrible silence.
 
 1 5 2 SLA VES OF THE SA WD UST. 
 
 " There is nothing private from your husband. I 
 have read your charming letter, it does you credit 
 as a dutiful daughter and a lying wife," he added 
 with a sneer. 
 
 " I can write to my mother if I choose," replied 
 Leila angrily. " It has nothing to do with you." 
 
 "Well, I intend to make it a great deal to do with 
 me for the future,-" he replied firmly. "But before 
 we go on further with this nice little comedy, may I 
 inquire how this correspondence came about and 
 how long it has been going on ? " 
 
 Leila knew that to prevaricate would be useless 
 before so stern a judge it would be better to try 
 and win his favour rather than arouse him to further 
 anger; and so in a few words she described the 
 meeting in Paris, and Ringens' kindness in calling 
 upon her mother, and the awful poverty to which 
 she was reduced. Eloquently she pleaded for the 
 deserted mother. 
 
 He had listened attentively throughout the painful 
 recital, and when she paused he said calmly, 
 
 "Indeed, and what is all this to do with you ? You 
 and that Bible reading Ringens thought best to keep 
 me in the dark. If your mother has come to want, it 
 is just what she deserves, and I shall permit no fur- 
 ther help to go from this house. By-the-bye, how 
 came she to Liverpool ? What other sneaky trick 
 was played upon me ? Speak out ; I will have 
 nothing but the truth." 
 
 "I asked Ringens to bring her over when he left 
 our circus ; she was here a week before we were. I 
 could not leave her thereto die," pleaded Leila with 
 much feeling. " Emilio, she is my mother." 
 
 " Your mother a fine mother ! I wonder you care 
 to own the relationship," he answered with a sneer. 
 "So all this pretty arrangement was carried out for 
 you by Ringens, was it? Is he your lover," he asked 
 coldly, " that you should persuade him to deceive 
 me and to make your life a fraud, a lie ? "
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 153 
 
 For a moment Leila was aghast at his terrible ques- 
 tion, and then she replied with a voice trembling with 
 rage, 
 
 "Do you dare to impute such a name to him ! He 
 was good, and true, and kind ; he saved my mother, 
 and I will thank him for it till I die. You you have 
 no heart. It was worse than useless to appeal to you. 
 She might have died for all you would have done, I 
 knew that, but I will give her all the help I can, for all 
 you may say, for all you may do," she added passion- 
 ately. 
 
 " You will not," he replied firmly ; "and as to im- 
 puting such wickedness to you, I don't know why I 
 should not. A woman who lets another man, rather 
 than her husband, carry out secret plans and plots 
 can't be over straight that's plain enough. You 
 can't make me believe chalk is black, or that you are 
 too white. Ringens is a church-going hypocrite, and 
 the next time that gentleman comes across my path 
 I shall have a nice lot to say to him." 
 
 "You are lying putting others down to be meas- 
 ured by your own bushel. It was humanity 
 humanity," she repeated with force, "' which made 
 me deceive you in order to save my mother." 
 
 " Let those save her who took her from her home. 
 I will not allowjyoM to support a woman of that class, 
 mother or no mother. I'm not going to slave to keep 
 such a woman, neither shall you. She has a husband 
 and a protector. It's a pity one of the gentlemen can- 
 not support her," he added with a sneer. 
 
 "Are you so very moral that you can speak of my 
 mother in those terms ? Are you not one of the 
 class that tempt women and leave them when your 
 passion has died ? I have heard of you, Emilio, 
 before to-day. I know your life has not been all 
 plain sailing. Why condemn my mother? She is 
 what a man has made her," she added sadly. 
 
 "What you have heard about me I don't care the 
 least," replied Castelli calmly. " But, once and for
 
 154 
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 all, I forbid you sending letters and money to your 
 mother. It shall not be done again." 
 
 " It shall," replied Leila with great determination. 
 
 " Do you intend to disobey me, Leila ? " asked her 
 husband severely. 
 
 " In this case most certainly. I do not intend to 
 forget my duties as a daughter," replied Leila with 
 great determination. " Your insults will not hurt me, 
 but to neglect my mother in her extremity would be 
 wicked indeed. I shall not risk the responsibility." 
 
 " I shall," answered Castelli firmly ; " and as my 
 wife you shall obey my orders." 
 
 "I will not," said Leila with all the firmness she 
 could command. 
 
 "Then I shall take steps to make you. You are 
 quite resolved to follow your own way, and I am 
 just as determined that you shall follow my way. 
 There is no more to be said." 
 
 Leila's face changed as her husband finished speak- 
 ing. The eyes grew less fixed and determined, a 
 gentler look came over her. She would plead now 
 for the erring mother ; she would try to melt the 
 merciless heart of her husband. She went closer to 
 him, and putting up her hands, laid them timidly on 
 his shoulders, and spoke with great effort on behalf 
 of the sinning woman. 
 
 "Emilio, for the sake of the dear old days, for the 
 sake of the love you once bore me, won't you let me 
 do this one thing for my mother? It would make 
 me so happy. Do listen to me this once," she 
 pleaded. 
 
 "I cannot," he replied more quietly than he had 
 yet spoken. "You've deceived me throughout. It 
 is useless to expect me to meet you on your own 
 terms now. My decision is irrevocable. You 
 should have told me honestly the first time you met 
 her in Paris. It is too late to beg the favour now," 
 he added decisively. 
 
 "Surely, surely it is not," she replied pathetically,
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 155 
 
 the tears welling to her eyes, her white, sad face 
 looking more hopeless than ever in the intense 
 anguish she was suffering. 
 
 He put her away from him forcibly, but not 
 roughly. She looked up into his face, but there was 
 no sign of relenting, no tender smile to assure her it 
 was all right. As he did not speak, she continued, 
 
 "Will you think it over and not refuse me yet ? " 
 
 "No, Leila, I shall be firm to what I have said. 
 There is no chance of my relenting none." 
 
 His tone of positive refusal aroused her temper in 
 a moment. Supplication turned to anger, her en- 
 treaties gave place to acute pain, caused by his 
 heartless and persistent cruelty. 
 
 "You can, be firm and so shall I," she replied 
 angrily. " I work hard enough for what I earn, and 
 I shall spend it as I choose." 
 
 "Will you ? " He smiled meaningly. "I think I 
 can settle that question." 
 
 And settle it he did. From that day henceforth he 
 withdrew from Leila the usual sum for the house- 
 hold expenditure. All bills he paid himself ; he 
 knew exactly how much every item cost. The 
 money they earned together for their "show" he 
 kept towards the general expenses. At the same time 
 he was careful that his wife should not actually want 
 for anything to which he had accustomed her ; she 
 might order necessities both in food or dress, but he 
 would settle the payment. By this means no money 
 passed through her hands ; practically the means of 
 assisting her mother were gone. 
 
 Castelli had said no more on the subject, but 
 quietly he adopted these measures, and rigidly en- 
 forced them. His conduct gave Leila the greatest 
 worry and anxiety. What could she do in her 
 dilemma ? She dare not apply to Ringens for 
 money ; her husband was obdurate, there seemed no 
 mercy, no help at hand, and Leila began to grow 
 very much paler and more languid.
 
 156 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 What little love had remained for her husband 
 faded out of her heart and life during this period of 
 intense suffering. She would have been so grateful 
 to him if only he would have helped her to soothe the 
 last days of her mother. They would not be many ; 
 the doctor had told her that the disease was making 
 terrible headway, and Leila knew that was true. 
 Some days she seemed better and brighter, almost 
 herself again, then came awful days of suffering for 
 the consumptive patient. 
 
 One morning Leila, in spite of her husband's wishes, 
 visited her mother in Scotland Road. She knew 
 money had run out, and that the invalid must be in 
 need of actual necessities. She deemed it wise to 
 tell her mother at once that she could supply her no 
 longer with funds to provide for her daily expenses. 
 
 Mrs. Gurney listened to every word her daughter 
 uttered, and then she started Leila by exclaiming, 
 
 ' ' Your husband is quite right. Why should he help 
 to keep me ? me, a profligate woman, a dissolute crea- 
 ture," she added excitedly. "I will go to those who 
 should help me. I will go once more to my seducer, 
 and show him my pitiable condition. He cannot 
 refuse me now, surely. I must have food, and he 
 shall find it." 
 
 Leila begged her mother not to appeal to the man 
 who had been the direct cause of all her misery ; but 
 she held firmly to her purpose in spite of her daugh- 
 ter's remonstrances. 
 
 " Why not write to my father ? " asked Leila gently, 
 She did not like to use the word husband. "Surely 
 he should know how ill you are and how great is 
 your need. I have brought you a little money," she 
 added sadly, "but it is not much two pounds in all. 
 I have parted with the last gold ornaments I have, so 
 this will be all I can give you. Something must be 
 done." 
 
 "Something shall!" replied her mother wildly. 
 " I've made up my mind to go to Southport and see
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 157 
 
 Herbert Clifford go I will, this very day but write 
 to my husband never, never ! " she screamed. 
 "Are you mad to propose such a thing? Ask him 
 for money, when he would gloat over my death, and 
 tell me how just was my punishment never, no, 
 never ! " she added with passion. 
 
 Leila saw at once that her mother's condition was 
 not such as to warrant continual contradiction, there- 
 fore she decided to go home and write to her father in 
 her mother's name, telling him of her remorse, and 
 begging his forgiveness. This done, she felt as if she 
 had done all that remained to her. If only Tom had 
 remained her friend she would have turned to him now 
 to help their mother, and half the burden and care 
 would have been removed. But Leila had written 
 to him after her marriage and received no reply, and 
 she never wrote again. Poor Leila, she did not know 
 that the vessel carrying out her letter had been cast 
 away and all the mail lost. She put his silence 
 down to anger at her marriage. She was ignorant 
 too, of a pile of letters which had come to her at the 
 old home to be sent on, but which had been given 
 as food for the flames by the unforgiving father. So 
 to Tom she never dreamt of applying. He, like her 
 other friends, had gone out of her life. 
 
 Bitter, bitter were her thoughts of the past, with all 
 its happy unshaded hours, the whispered love, the 
 joys of home. 
 
 But these delights were lost to both for ever now. 
 
 Herbert Clifford was lounging in his library, smok- 
 ing and reading to while away the time. Through 
 luck, not quite apart from swindling, he had risen 
 from a comparatively poor man to a very wealthy one, 
 and with his riches his character had become more 
 loose, more dishonourable than ever. His face and 
 form had lost none of their beauty and grace since 
 the day he had tempted Alice Gurney from her home, 
 but he had used his radiant eyes, his fascinating face 
 to lead others into the great vortex of the lost. And
 
 1 5 8 SLA VES OF THE SA WD UST. 
 
 they in turn were left to their depths of despair and 
 misery, cursing the day when the handsome Herbert 
 Clifford had crossed the threshold of their lives. 
 
 But their griefs did not trouble him, unbridled pas- 
 sion knows no mercy, and morally he had sunk so 
 low that to stamp a deeper dye on his blackened 
 heart would have been impossible. His corruption 
 and iniquity were complete. No hell-hound could 
 boast of blacker sins or grosser vice. 
 
 Was it likely, then, that the dying woman, the 
 wreck of his sin should hope for mercy from him in 
 her direst agony ? 
 
 The door opened, she was announced, and Her- 
 bert Clifford saw before him the woman he had once 
 professed to love. There she stood facing her de- 
 serter, all the glow of beauty decayed, all the magic 
 charm gone, with nothing but despair to take its 
 place. Her quick, hurried breathing could be heard 
 in the silent room. She put her hand on the back of 
 a chair for support, and with one desperate impulse 
 she cried, - 
 
 " Herbert Clifford, have you forgotten me? You 
 must remember me ? " 
 
 She put out her arms towards him, but he drew 
 back and repulsed her roughly, and exclaimed with 
 fury, - - 
 
 " How dare you come here ? You are nothing to 
 me. What do you mean by coming to my house? 
 Are you not ashamed to show your face? " 
 
 " Not to you," she replied wearily. "To all else, 
 but not to you. I have dared to come because I am 
 ill dying, and almost starving for bread. I have 
 come to you because you promised once to care for 
 me till death. You have made me what I am. You 
 have brought me to guilt and misery. It is to you I 
 come for help can you refuse it?" 
 
 Her imploring tone, her agony and despair were 
 nothing to him, and he replied, with a cruel smile, 
 
 " Did I promise to care for you till death? If I
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 159 
 
 did I was drunk when I said it. If you are ill and 
 dying it's nothing to me, and your parish will give 
 you bread. You have no right to come to me for 
 help. I am not going to undertake to look after 
 every woman who chooses to run after me. You 
 left your home for a passing fancy, and now you 
 repent, that is no business of mine." 
 
 " Left my home for a passing fancy ? " she wailed ; 
 "oh, Herbert, Herbert, I left it for you, and you 
 alone. I was vain in those days, and you whispered 
 to me of love and hopes. You bid me fly. You 
 roused my passions, and, maddened, I obeyed. 
 Apostate, liar, coward, you mock me now, do you ? 
 You would thrust me from your presence, to die in 
 yonder street, and scoff at me as you passed ? " 
 
 " I daresay I should," replied Herbert Clifford care- 
 lessly as he lit another cigar. "You see," he con- 
 tinued, "you grew tired of your husband and home. 
 I, like a fool, took you in, and there's the end of it 
 If you choose to change your life, no one is to blame 
 but yourself," he added cruelly. 
 
 " You say that to me when you led me astray 
 you who have made my lif^ a misery, a curse too 
 heavy to be borne ; you who tempted me from plenty, 
 to cast me off without enough to buy a loaf. Shame, 
 shame ! Herbert Clifford, shame be on you to the 
 grave ! " 
 
 She cast her eyes about wildly as she spoke, and 
 her breathing became more laboured. 
 
 "Thanks for the good wishes, " he replied with 
 sarcasm. "You see the devil was very busy the 
 day I was born ; and as for the casting off business, 
 I never asked you to come with me. There's the 
 workhouse for such as you," he said with a fiendish 
 laugh. 
 
 She sank down upon a low couch as he spoke and 
 hid her face with her white hands, upon which the 
 wedding ring still glistened. It seemed as if she 
 wished to hide her eyes from the hate and loathing
 
 160 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 of the man before her. Suddenly she arose. A sul- 
 len, hopeless wrath had come over her face, as if she 
 had remembered that love, honour, pride, chastity, 
 the empires of a woman's world, were gone ; that 
 the lover, the serpent, for whom she had sacrificed 
 all, spurned her from him, that he would not throw 
 her a crust, as the beggar does to the mongrel by his 
 side. 
 
 But again she made one frantic effort, one frenzied 
 appeal to him for mercy. Trembling with passion 
 and excitement, but too weak to let it be her master, 
 she rushed to his side, and taking hold of one of the 
 elegant jewelled hands, pressed it passionately to her 
 lips, exclaiming, 
 
 " Herbert, look at me ! look at me as you used to 
 do ! Once you loved me ! I love you still, Her- 
 bert ! " 
 
 She screamed. He had wrenched his hand away 
 from her feeble grasp with a terrible oath. 
 
 A sharp cry of despair rang through the room again 
 and again and then she flung herself down and in- 
 voked his aid and his love. 
 
 " Get away, you snivelling idiot," he shouted, 
 with a coarse imprecation, and he put out his foot 
 to kick her. 
 
 She grew deathly pale and gasped out, 
 
 " Brandy, give me brandy. I am dying quick 
 quick ! " 
 
 "You're drunk more likely," said Herbert Clifford. 
 " You'll get no brandy here. Get up, I tell you, or 
 I'll make you." 
 
 A shriek a shuddering moan another shriek. 
 
 "Look, look! What is this? she cried, terrified, 
 holding up her handkerchief, now dyed deeply with 
 crimson blood. 
 
 She fell forward, and a stream issued from her lips 
 which made Herbert Clifford, selfish and hardened 
 as he was, utter a stifled groan. He rushed to the 
 bell. The affrighted valet helped his master to place
 
 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. \ 6 1 
 
 the bleeding woman on the sofa. She tried to speak 
 as he touched her, but the lamp of life had burnt 
 too low. 
 
 A doctor was soon on the spot. She was still 
 breathing, and convulsive tremors passed over now 
 and then, but she never spoke. Language was gone 
 for ever, for death was waiting to claim his victim. 
 Just before the end she opened her eyes and fixed 
 them with a horrible stare upon Clifford. So terrible 
 was her look that he turned away, awed and mute, 
 frightened at death in its most awful form. 
 
 More glassy they grew, and she followed his every 
 movement until at last a look of unutterable agony 
 came into them. She gasped feebly, and one moan 
 came from the pale lips, and then the pulse of life 
 was dead. 
 
 All was over. 
 
 When the doctor pronounced her dead, Herbert 
 Clifford turned to him and said, 
 
 " Now, I suppose, there'll be* the bother of an 
 inquest?" 
 
 The doctor looked up at the speaker, recoiling in 
 disgust at the callous way in which, he uttered the 
 words, and replied, 
 
 " Knowing so little of the case, I cannot give any 
 certificate." 
 
 "Cannot it be avoided anyhow ? It will be a most 
 infernal nuisance for me. People chatter so," said 
 Clifford. 
 
 " Well, you must find out who has been attending 
 her, and get a certificate in the ordinary manner. 
 Of course, you know all about the lady? " 
 
 "Indeed I don't. I haven't seen her for years. 
 Cannot you take this matter in hand for me and com- 
 municate with her friends? The whole thing would 
 do me a great deal of harm if it became a public 
 scandal. A man of my means," he added proudly, 
 " is always worried by a parcel of begging women, 
 but I never had one serve me this trick before." 
 
 ii
 
 1 62 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 " I have to find her friends first," replied the doctor 
 gravely, disbelieving the heartless speech. 
 
 After her death a letter from Leila to her mother 
 was found in the pocket of her dress, and then the 
 doctor sent a telegram informing Leila of her death. 
 
 Leaving a short note behind for her husband, she 
 hurried off to Southport Herbert Clifford had left 
 the house. There was no one there but the servants, 
 who sent for the doctor at once upon her arrival. 
 From Leila he learnt the true state of affairs of her 
 mother's long illness and the reason of her visit to 
 Clifford, with a description of his contemptible con- 
 duct. 
 
 Before she left she was shown to the room where 
 her mother lay calm and silent in death. None of 
 the passions of her lawless life were visible on the 
 marble face. She looked less worn and wan than in 
 her lifetime, and her features had regained some of 
 the traces of her refined beauty. Leila stooped and 
 kissed her, the last token of a daughter's love. 
 Then she withdrew, shuddering at the thoughts 
 which would come of the blighted life, the unredeem- 
 able remorse of years, and then the awful death with 
 heaven so far away, for the voices of the angels 
 had not called her home and Leila went her way 
 troubled and maddened by the thought of her sin- 
 ning and dead mother. 
 
 That evening when Castelli came home she said 
 to him, 
 
 " My mother is dead. She lies in the house of 
 the villain who betrayed her. With his money he 
 will lay her in the grave, for I have none to give so 
 that I can spare her memory that last degradation. 
 Must the curse rest upon her even in the grave ? 
 Will you not help me to give her the last care the 
 dead can receive? He must not, he shall not," she 
 cried excitedly, " let his sullied gold buy her grave. 
 Let her sleep without a stone to mark her resting 
 place if you like, but, Emilio, let me take her from
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 163 
 
 his charge, dead though she is it will make me 
 happy to feel I laid her in the grave," she cried ap- 
 pealingly. 
 
 But he made her no reply. 
 
 Later a letter came from Leila's father in response 
 to the urgent plea for forgiveness for the erring, sin- 
 ful wife. It contained these words : 
 
 " I can offer no pardon for such sin as yours you 
 will go to your grave unforgiven by me.'' 
 
 She was going to her grave. And as Leila crushed 
 the heartless letter in her hand she murmured, 
 " Death has been kindest after all."
 
 1 64 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 IN THE RING. 
 
 Six months had passed since Leila's mother had been 
 laid in her grave. Six unhappy months for Leila. 
 Her husband had refused to bury her mother. He 
 had not even permitted her to attend at the grave. 
 
 " She has only come to what you might expect," 
 he told her brutally. " Surely you cannot pretend 
 to mourn for her." 
 
 But Leila did sorrow for her mother for all that. 
 Not that she forgot the disgrace brought on them all 
 by her evil course of life, but it was that very sin 
 which had aroused in Leila all her sympathy, if not 
 affection. She saw what cruel suffering her mother's 
 wickedness had wrought, how terrible was her re- 
 morse, how weary the days of desertion had been 
 when spurned by her base tempter rejected by her 
 husband, deserted by all. 
 
 Apart from this, there was the tie of motherhood, 
 that no sin can quite sever. Through all the chances 
 and changes of life that undefined and indescribable 
 clinging to a mother, whether she be a sinner or a 
 saint, will exist for ever. 
 
 The arab of the gutter seeks his drunken mother 
 and cries to her for bread. The disgraced son feels 
 pity and sympathy for the mother in the dock, for 
 is she not a parent after all? And some affectionate 
 thoughts arise of her kindness long before the awful 
 change took place which made her a drunkard or a 
 felon. 
 
 In this all the world is a kin. It matters not
 
 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 16 5 
 
 whether the child is king-, prince, peer, or beggar, 
 the link to motherhood is there. No sin on earth has 
 ever snapped it quite apart. 
 
 That would be degrading to the child. 
 
 Castelli could not understand his wife bearing her 
 mother the least particle of affection. His mother 
 had died when he was quite a child, and his recol- 
 lections of her were very vague and indistinct, and 
 he had no sympathy with Leila. It was not that he 
 particularly objected to the immorality committed 
 by her mother, it was what he considered the deceit 
 she had practised upon him. His pride had suffered. 
 His wife's want of confidence in him had annoyed 
 him beyond measure, and to show his disapproval 
 of her conduct he declined to assist her in any way 
 in which her mother was concerned. Even death 
 found him immovable. 
 
 But with his determined decision came a change 
 in his wife which he did not expect, and it annoyed 
 him more than he chose to own. 
 
 Although not openly declaring her dislike to him, 
 she simply ignored him whenever she dared. She 
 rarely addressed him beyond actual matters of busi- 
 ness, or pleaded for her children when he dealt them 
 a hasty blow for some trivial childish fault. Im- 
 mutably cold in her demeanour towards him, she 
 put up with his increasing severity and harshness 
 without a murmur. Sometimes, when he had been 
 particularly sarcastic and cruel, she would give him 
 a sad, tender look, as if to mutely plead for his love 
 as of old. But soon the gentleness would die out 
 and a despairing, hardened glance take its place. 
 And so the weary weeks lagged on. 
 
 The. hours of rehearsals at the circus she dreaded 
 the most. It took what little remaining strength she 
 had to carry her through her work with any show of 
 success, and her husband permitted nothing to pass 
 that was inaccurately or carelessly done. 
 
 There was no faithful Whanks there to brighten
 
 1 66 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 her with a few kind words. The groom who had 
 taken his place had been a smart young man her 
 husband had picked up in the country, but he was 
 made of different stuff to the patient Whanks, and 
 at the end of the first month he declined to serve so 
 austere a master, and he went his way. Another 
 followed in his footsteps, an Italian, who did his work 
 well, but who was as passionate and severe as his 
 master. To Leila he was coldly civil, attending to 
 her horse and his duties in the ring with unfailing 
 skill, but to her personally he was utterly indifferent, 
 and her children never received the smallest kind- 
 ness from him. 
 
 Once she remarked to her husband upon his 
 churlishness, and he replied, 
 
 " He suits me well enough. I don't want a groom 
 making love to my wife. The less he says the bet- 
 ter I like him. He knows his place, and that is more 
 than that confounded Whanks did. It was a good day 
 when he took his carcase out of the ' show.'" 
 
 Leila flushed at his words. She had been so fond 
 of the faithful, kind man who had helped her to bear 
 the burden of her life just when the weight of it be- 
 came apparent. She felt his loss acutely, and as 
 her relations with her husband became more and 
 more estranged, she* longed to see him once again. 
 Her health, too, was failing fast. At times she 
 seemed too weak to hold in her fresh young mare, 
 and this brought down the wrath of her husband. It 
 was in vain that she told him how ill she felt, and 
 that it was beyond her powers to accomplish the 
 task. 
 
 He did not believe in women's ailments. It was 
 only hysteria, or some crotchet or other. Had not 
 the doctor in Liverpool told him so when he had 
 asked his opinion months ago ? 
 
 "A little passing weakness, that is all," had been 
 the verdict, and Castelli was determined nothing 
 more should be made out of it.
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 167 
 
 But doctors are mistaken sometimes, even when 
 death is very near at hand. 
 
 One morning at a rehearsal she pleaded illness as 
 an excuse for her inability to follow his directions, 
 and Castelli became furious. Her horse became 
 difficult to manage, and her power to restrain him 
 was futile. 
 
 "Rein her in, do you hear me ? " he called. 
 
 "I cannot, I really cannot hold her," she replied 
 plaintively. 
 
 The horse continued to snort impatiently and to 
 rear and plunge vigorously. 
 
 " Do come and help me, Emilio," she cried in ter- 
 ror, for her continual and growing weakness had not 
 improved her nerves, and fear often overtook her 
 when the horse she rode performed some strange 
 freaks. 
 
 Once she had laughed and enjoyed the fun, but 
 now apprehension and dread had taken hold upon 
 her. 
 
 Her husband stood in the ring watching the pran- 
 cing animal and the affrighted woman, but he never 
 moved towards her. He was perfectly calm and 
 self-possessed, and her fear did not touch him in the 
 least. But his face grew more white and set; his 
 passion was rising beyond his control. She looked 
 round with an anxious glance to see if succour was 
 near, but the circus was deserted except by her hus- 
 band's groom. To appeal to him would be practical- 
 ly useless ; but her alarm was so great that as a last 
 resource she would try it. 
 
 " Ticino," she called, "come to 'Champion's' 
 head ; I cannot hold her." 
 
 The man looked towards his master as if awaiting 
 his instructions. Castelli interpreted the look, and 
 answered curtly, 
 
 " Remain where you are. My wife is quite capa- 
 ble of managing the horse if she chooses." 
 
 The man obeyed ; and this treatment gave the fin-
 
 1 68 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 
 
 ishing stroke to Leila's nervous tension. Her de- 
 spair at being alone with those two merciless men 
 was too much for her, ill and weak as she was. 
 The reins dropped from her trembling- hands, and 
 lay listlessly upon the horse's neck. The animal, 
 finding itself free, was about to rush to the stables, 
 when Castelli, quick as thought, stopped its wild 
 career. 
 
 "Let me dismount, please," pleaded Leila; "I 
 am so frightened/' and the tears came into her eyes. 
 
 "Dismount, indeed! I'll teach you to make a 
 fool of me ! " cried Castelli, white with rage. 
 
 " Ticino, come here and hold this horse. Be 
 quick, do you hear me? "he roared, stamping his 
 foot impatiently. 
 
 The man obeyed, and then Castelli raised his thin 
 whip and struck his wife sharply across her shoulders 
 and arms. Again and again the cruel cuts fell with 
 biting force. 
 
 "Now then, my lady, we'll see who is master. 
 Once more, are you going to do as I tell you ? " 
 
 But she never spoke, she only stifled a moan of 
 pain and drew her breath in gasps, and became 
 white and terrified ; but her lips were closed, no 
 sound came from them. 
 
 "Answer me, you fool ! " roared Castelli, his pas- 
 sion stifling all sense of decency or respect for his 
 wife. "Answer, do you hear!" he exclaimed, ex- 
 asperated with her silence. 
 
 Still no words issued from the quivering lips, and 
 then in his fury his whip fell again upon her with 
 remorseless energy. 
 
 She winced and shuddered under the cruel blows ; 
 the beating of her heart could be seen against her 
 habit ; its thud almost choked her, and a deadly cold 
 feeling was stealing over her. 
 
 But Castelli was too angry to note the change in 
 his wife's face until Ticino called his attention to 
 her.
 
 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. \ 69 
 
 " Madam is fainting, you'd best take her from the 
 saddle, " said the man coolly, not evincing the slightest 
 sympathy for the suffering woman. 
 
 "Curse you, hold your tongue ! " said Castelli. 
 
 But one glance at Leila's face told him the man 
 was right, and he lifted his wife from the horse, and 
 turning to the groom said, 
 
 "lake the brute to the stables, and bring a glass 
 of water here, and look sharp about it" 
 
 Finding herself on the sawdust, she recovered 
 somewhat, and in a feeble voice she cried, 
 
 "How could you? How could you do that? 
 Take me home. The pain the pain has made me 
 faint and sick. Do let me go home," she pleaded. 
 
 He held her firmly round the waist so that she 
 should not fall ; but there was no pity in his face, 
 no anxiety in his voice as he spoke. 
 
 " It serves you right," he replied, " fooling about 
 as if you were an idiot. In future you will under- 
 stand what is in store for you." 
 
 A moan like the cry of a wounded animal that 
 was all her reply. 
 
 " Hold that infernal noise, and drink this water." 
 
 But her teeth were firmly set, and he could not 
 get her to take a drop. 
 
 " You obstinate devil ! " he cried, "you want an- 
 other good hiding. Come here, Ticino, and give 
 me a hand." 
 
 Together they led her to her dressing-room and 
 placed her in a chair. 
 
 "When you feel well enough to walk home you 
 can let me know," he added with a sneer. 
 
 "Don't leave me, Emilio : I can go home now," 
 she said. "I'd rather get home." 
 
 "I'd rather you stayed here for a time," replied 
 Castelli with determination. 
 
 And so she sat on alone for one weary hour, suffer- 
 ing acute pain, dazed and faint. 
 
 At last, with faltering steps, she reached home.
 
 I yo SLA FES OF THE SA WDUST. 
 
 At the door her two children met her with out- 
 stretched arms and laughing, happy faces. Their 
 presence caused a terrible and sudden reaction to 
 set in ; she burst into uncontrolled fits of tears, then 
 she laughed and showed all the signs of hysteria. 
 
 Castelli, his passion gone, brought her wine. 
 
 "Don't come near me; go away go a\vay. I 
 hate you, I loathe you I wish I was dead ! " she 
 panted. 
 
 The children slunk away terrified. 
 
 "Hold your tongue, do, Leila, unless you want 
 all the house up here, and don't go on in this absurd 
 childish manner. Be off and lie down or you will 
 not be able to ride to-night, and that won't suit me 
 by a long chalk." 
 
 " Ride to-night," she repeated his words mechani- 
 cally, "I cannot, I cannot. I could not sit in the 
 saddle." 
 
 "Oh, we'll see about that," he replied severely. 
 "I'm not going to let you do the invalid business, I 
 am determined. Go to your bed at once, do you 
 hear me ? " 
 
 Afraid to disobey, and yet trembling until she 
 could hardly stand, she staggered to her feet, and 
 managed to drag her weary limbs to her room. 
 Degraded, deprived of the dignity of womanhood, 
 struck as men strike dogs, disgraced before a ser- 
 vant no wonder her heart was broken. 
 
 That night she was made to rise from her sick-bed 
 and go to the circus as usual. 
 
 The people were waiting. The band struck up a 
 lively air, and Leila, side by side with her husband, 
 entered the ring to display her celebrated trick horse, 
 but so thin and wan was her face, so wild were her 
 eyes, so great her effort to keep her seat and manage 
 her horse, that she drew the attention of the whole 
 house to her suffering condition. Yet no one liked 
 to mark their disapprobation ; they were afraid to be 
 the first to do so ; it might be all a mistake. After
 
 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST, \ 71 
 
 all, they supposed the woman knew best herself, and 
 so silence fell on the sightseers. 
 
 It was not until Castelli threw one angry flash at 
 his wife, and a low muttered oath, which did not es- 
 cape the watchful eyes and ears of a few who sat in 
 the front row of the stalls, that suddenly a hiss rose 
 from a lady's lips, which was taken up by one or 
 two of the most daring in the vast assembly, 
 
 But the applause broke forth with renewed force, 
 the hisses were lost. 
 
 Humanity was crushed by the cowardice of the 
 people. 
 
 It is the same to-day. 
 
 Oh for humanity strong enough, deep enough to 
 tread under its feet the cravens, the poltroons, the 
 timorous pleasure-goers who would rather let suf- 
 fering live than they should speak. Oh for a hu- 
 manity which dare plead for the pains of girlhood, 
 for the degradation of womanhood. Away, away 
 with the faddist, away with those who offer a luke- 
 warm sympathy but dare not cry, "I will help the 
 slaves of the sawdust, I will save those who suffer 
 for the pleasure of the people." 
 
 Away with those who have so far fouled the name 
 of philanthropy by standing aloof when their much 
 vaunted services were most needed. 
 
 Philanthropy is one thing in name, another in 
 action. The one so easy, the other not very pleasant 
 And so the agreeable way has been chosen, and the 
 emotional minds left in peace. 
 
 But the dawn is at hand, the faint flickering of the 
 morn is growing nearer, the light will burst, the 
 night be gone for ever, the brilliant day will break, 
 and truth shall bask in her rosy hues and light the 
 path of suffering and misery. 
 
 Then it will be well. 
 
 At last the ' ' show " was over and the weary woman 
 had left the ring, and the careless audience were dis- 
 cussing her pale looks and despairing glances. But
 
 1 72 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 the next act soon took their attention. After all it 
 was nothing to them. 
 
 Castelli was about to turn on his wife with an 
 oath, for the hisses had reached him as he rode, and 
 he was annoyed that Leila should have brought such 
 a slight upon her horsemanship. 
 
 But the proprietor of the circus came up to him, 
 with a look of determination upon his face, and 
 said, 
 
 " Castelli, you must not take your wife into the 
 ring again at present. I cannot permit it. The au- 
 dience have begun to notice how ill she is, and surely 
 you must know she is not fit to ride." 
 
 " She is not so ill as all that," replied Castelli with 
 anger. " It's temper, not illness. It's deuced cool 
 to tell me my wife is too ill to perform. I'm the 
 best judge of that, I should guess," he added with 
 scorn. 
 
 " I don't mind whether you are capable of judging 
 or not She cannot appear in the ring here. I for- 
 bid it. You had better take her home and fetch the 
 doctor." 
 
 With these words he walked off, and Castelli, using 
 a foul oath, took his wife home. But he did not fetch 
 the doctor, neither did he remain by her side to com- 
 fort her in her sickness. 
 
 Left alone, she seemed almost stunned by all she 
 had undergone during that terrible day. She seemed 
 hardly capable of thought. But after a great effort 
 she reached her children's room, and kissed them 
 passionately as they slept Suddenly some awful 
 truth seemed to strike home to her, and she cried : 
 " I am dying dying, and who will care for them 
 when I am gone? His lash has fallen on me their 
 mother his wife. Some day it will fall on them. 
 What shall I do with my children ? " she cried with 
 pathos. 
 
 Maddened with this thought, she never slept 
 throughout the long night, and the morning found
 
 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 173 
 
 her wearied to the soul. As the day grew her trouble 
 seemed to rest upon her until she could hardly bear 
 the slightest word spoken in her presence, and in her 
 despair she moaned, 
 
 " My children, my children ! How shall I save 
 my children ? I must die and leave them all alone. 
 What will become of them ? What shall I do ? " 
 
 Her restlessness grew worse as the evening ap- 
 proached, and her husband asked her with a sneer, 
 
 " Are you mad, Leila ? " 
 
 " I think so I think I must be," she said slowly, 
 a wavering and indecision being apparent in her 
 voice. 
 
 He smiled calmly. 
 
 But she took no heed.
 
 174 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 MAD FOR LOVE. 
 
 THAT night he had left her with an oath upon his 
 lips. 
 
 She could not work now she was too weary, too 
 ill. 
 
 The tender flower was crushed, shattered, its glory 
 gone for ever. 
 
 She had thrown herself upon the bed, and with 
 closed eyes she lay, trying to gain some rest. Her 
 fair hair hung wildly about her shoulders, her arms 
 were thrown behind her head, and through the thin 
 dressing-gown could be seen the slim contour of her 
 limbs. All traces of the plump, fine-grown woman 
 had long since disappeared. 
 
 She looked very fair and fragile as she lay there 
 almost as still as death. 
 
 At last, after a restless struggle, she fell asleep, 
 growing more white as the moments sped on, with 
 a look of unutterable pain stealing over her face, as 
 if animated by an undying consciousness of some 
 horrible thought which had reached the inmost recess 
 of the mind. Some terrible scene come to disturb 
 her brain with acute suffering wrung from the fierce 
 despair of the days that were past. 
 
 Sometimes her white and compressed lips moved 
 as if she were speaking, but the murmurings, if any, 
 were too low, too soft to reach the human ear. 
 
 That was well, for perhaps her spirit was roaming 
 in memory's land, bringing back to her tortured heart 
 the remembrance of happy days, and far-off friends 
 and charms, which died all too soon.
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 175 
 
 Suddenly she awoke from her distressful slumber, 
 and with a strange glare, her eyes wandered round 
 the deserted room, resting at length upon a large 
 photograph of her husband. This seemed to in- 
 furiate her, and she sprang up, wildly exclaiming, 
 
 " I'll do it I'll do it to-night now I've plenty 
 of courage, plenty it won't take long they will just 
 scream a little but it will soon be over. Let me 
 see," she said, " I shall kill Vanda first, she is sure 
 to struggle most and then the boy. The angel who 
 fetches Vanda must wait for Adrian : he would be 
 afraid to go without her the way is so very long, 
 the night so dark. To-day, sin, sorrow, care, and 
 curses," she hissed; "to-morrow, music, light, 
 golden harps, and flowers," she cried with exultation. 
 " I'll do it now, at once it must be done before their 
 father conies back now, now is the time." 
 
 With slow and noiseless step she moved to the 
 sideboard and with eager hand drew a knife from 
 the drawer. 
 
 She ran her fingers down the blue blade, making 
 a gash, and letting the blood fall upon her gown. 
 
 For a moment she stood, awed and dejected at the 
 sight. 
 
 But her eyes did not lose their glitter passion still 
 bore the sway. She flung her disordered tresses on 
 one side, marking them as she did so with a crimson 
 stain. 
 
 She hurried to the table, and clutching hold of one 
 of the candlesticks with impetuous haste, she moved 
 to the door, the bright steel of the knife flashing as 
 she went. Beautiful, but terrible in her frenzy, she 
 crept along the ill-lighted passage until she reached 
 the room where her hapless children slept. Putting 
 the light down, she fixed her eyes upon the bed where 
 the little ones lay. Gradually she moved towards 
 them, hiding the glistening knife behind her as she 
 went. 
 
 She saw them resting side by side, with their golden
 
 176 SLAVES OF THE SAIVDUST. 
 
 curls all tossed and tumbled in childhood's dreamless 
 sleep, their white chubby hands showing in relief 
 against the brilliant crimson coverlid, their ringers 
 twitching now and then as if to clasp some much 
 loved treasure. How peaceful they looked ; but she 
 only whispered hoarsely, 
 
 " It's best it's best it shall be done," her desperate 
 purpose shaking off her fears. " It's best," she al- 
 most hissed. She took another gliding footstep, re- 
 peating, "Death is freedom escape from pain and 
 suffering. I must save them I will," she panted. 
 
 She drew so near that the breath of the sleeping 
 boy was warm upon her hand ; the colour deepened 
 in her cheeks, her breath came rapidly as she drew 
 the knife from the folds of her long trailing gown. 
 She hurriedly put back her sleeve from the once 
 rounded arm now was the time the gleaming knife 
 was just ready for its ghastly work. Another mo- 
 ment another terrible moment and it would be be- 
 smeared with blood and thick with gore the dreaded 
 deed, with impetuous haste, complete the chainless 
 spirits gone now, now. The knife just touched the 
 little girl. She started, with a cry of terror on her 
 lips. 
 
 "Mother, mother! Oh, where is mother?" she 
 cried, half asleep. 
 
 "Here, here," Leila whispered hoarsely. "Here, 
 here," she muttered frantically, stepping back ap- 
 palled, terrified, awe-struck. The voice of the child 
 had stricken her to the heart, and its thrill recalled rea- 
 son in some mysterious way feeling, love, memory 
 had returned. Quivering in every limb, she exclaimed 
 piteously : " Vanda, have I hurt you ? I must have 
 done so, there is blood on my hands on my dress 
 on my hair. Vanda, have I killed you ? " she cried 
 out in terrible despair. 
 
 The child did not speak she had fallen asleep. 
 
 Leila stooped down until her ear was close to the 
 child's mouth.
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 177 
 
 "No, she is not dead. I have not slain her. She 
 breathes she breathes. The knife is clean no 
 blood streams from the blade. Thank God ! thank 
 God ! I have not killed my child ; but I'll go I dare 
 not stay with them. I might try again," she moaned. 
 Panting with fear, trembling with emotion, shud- 
 dering with frantic remorse, she fled from the room. 
 For a moment she fancied some evil spirit was be- 
 hind her, and not until she was once more alone did 
 she realise the terrible sin she had contemplated, and 
 then an awful horror seized her. It seemed as if a 
 cloud had come between her and life, a something 
 which baffled description, something undefined, which 
 darkened the past and made the future oblivion. She 
 was different she felt it she knew it. She rose as if 
 to shake the phantom from her, and drive away the 
 encircling gloom ; but how strange things seemed 
 what had happened? She put her hands to her head 
 and shrieked, 
 
 'What is it what is it? Am I mad, or has the 
 hour of my death come at last?" she cried, seized 
 with sudden terror. "I've tried to do something 
 awful what can it be ? " She closed her eyes and 
 sat motionless, as if trying to reflect what had swept 
 over her life. Suddenly, like a spell, the wondrous 
 change became apparent to her, and with a cry of 
 agony she shrieked : " Heavens, great heavens, what 
 a crime I designed invented by the devil, restrained 
 by God it must have been to plunge my children 
 into heaven my little innocent, prattling babies ! 
 My God ! my God ! " 
 
 Her head sank ; she was stupefied with dread. 
 Gradually the shadows left her, the hovering between 
 certainty and uncertainty was at an end ; she knew 
 then what she was about to do. 
 
 She must go to the children at once perhaps she 
 had harmed them she would make sure of their 
 safety. 
 
 She went back to their room ; a shudder passed 
 
 12
 
 1 78 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 
 
 over her as she entered. She hurried to the bedside 
 as if fearful of seeing some sign of a terrible deed. 
 But they were sleeping, serene and beautiful. She 
 pressed one long, passionate kiss on each soft cheek 
 and murmured, 
 
 "God forgive me for my would-be crime. May He 
 show me mercy at the last." 
 
 The anguish expressed in that prayer came from a 
 broken heart. 
 
 Would Heaven deny forgiveness ? 
 
 That night when Castelli returned home he found 
 his wife dejected, depressed, and almost too weak to 
 speak. The excitement she had passed through had 
 made a terrible change in her, and he noticed for the 
 first time, with anxiety, how really ill she looked. 
 
 With more kindness in his voice than usual, he 
 persuaded her to go to bed and rest, and then she 
 was tempted to tell him of the awful frenzy which 
 had come over her. But her courage failed, and so 
 the sad tale was never told. 
 
 That night she sank into a heavy slumber, and a 
 glorious vision came to her. 
 
 Before her stood Tom, with a gladdened and tender 
 look in his eyes. She felt his warm kiss upon her 
 lips. 
 
 " Leila, my sister, dearly beloved Leila," he cried 
 in ecstasy, " we have met at last, all of us together. 
 See, the dark cloud has gone, and only the silver 
 lining is left behind." 
 
 Then she saw a vapour of filmy silver floating on 
 the air, and gradually it rose into space, leaving in 
 its place a magnificent and dazzling light, in which 
 she saw her father clasping her mother to his heart 
 and wiping away the care and sin from her brow. 
 Each kiss he gave her left behind it a glow of happi- 
 ness, a rapture, a felicity which comes only from 
 those bright realms where all the streams of joy and 
 gladness have their source. She heard a plaintive 
 voice call,
 
 SLA YES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 179 
 
 " Give back my children, let me hear them say, 
 'Mother, I forgive you I forgive you.' Let me 
 kiss them and touch them before I die. Come, come 
 to me, my girl, my boy." 
 
 Involuntarily Leila felt herself drawn with Tom 
 towards her forgiving father and the repentant mother 
 and wife. 
 
 As they approached, the light from the silver mist 
 grew more clear, more pure and transparent. The 
 faces of her father and mother became intensified in 
 their beauty, glorified with a great glory. 
 
 Her father put out his hands and drew them to 
 him, and spoke these words, "Wife, here are our 
 children. Children, here is your mother. God bless 
 you all, now and for ever." 
 
 A radiant light fell upon them as their father pointed 
 to the mother's brow, and they saw written there in 
 letters of silvern light the single word FORGIVEN. 
 
 Leila put out her hands towards her mother as if 
 to cling to her, but a cloud began to dim the glory, 
 and as it deepened she heard a low still voice saying, 
 "Leila, this is heaven heaven at last." Then the 
 light grew less and there was silence silence every- 
 where. Tom and she were left alone. A darkness 
 enveloped them, the air became heavy, a lurid glare 
 appeared in the distance, lighting deep arched caves, 
 dark gloomy waters, and hideous chasms, from 
 which pestilential fumes rose in great heavy clouds. 
 It rested upon a mighty rock upon which stood a 
 man. His garments were in shreds, showing his 
 bones protruding through his shrunken skin ; his face 
 was drawn with fearful agony and distorted into ter- 
 rible shapes ; from his mouth proceeded yell after 
 yell, curse after curse. Above his head were the 
 branches of a bread-fruit tree, its lobed glossy leaves 
 shining in the hideous glare ; its globular shaped 
 fruit hung like melons from every stem, then changed 
 in a moment into loaves of bread, crisp and fresh, and 
 the man's great thin, fleshless, bony fingers were out-
 
 l8o SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 stretched to grasp the food. His eyes, shrunken in 
 their sockets, watched with maddening gaze the loaves 
 coming and going. Sometimes the boughs bent so 
 low that he could just touch them, then suddenly 
 they were raised far beyond his reach. Then he 
 would scream, "Bread, bread! oh, give me bread ! 
 I'm a-hungered a-hungered. Will no one help me 
 to lull this fearful craving for bread? Give me but 
 one morsel, one taste. I am famished famished," 
 he groaned. 
 
 As he cried out the trunk of the tree burst in twain, 
 and before him came a fearful picture, all painted in 
 blood. He saw a dying woman pleading to a hand- 
 some man for bread a cast-off love supplicating for 
 the tempter's gold to save her from hunger and 
 death. Then came a terrible voice from the picture, 
 saying, 
 
 "There's the workhouse for such as you. The 
 parish will give you bread." 
 
 The picture faded. 
 
 There was nothing to be seen or heard but the 
 wail of the lost soul trying to reach the bread which 
 he in his lifetime had refused to others. He knelt at 
 the foot of the tree, gaunt, famished, despairing, 
 rocking himself to and fro in his agony and wrath. 
 
 But it availed him nothing. 
 
 Suddenly, hovering over the tree, was an angel 
 form with wings of azure tint, and a low, sweet 
 voice fell upon the crouching, miserable sinner, say- 
 ing in accents fraught with sorrow, 
 
 "I am from the God of love. You have stolen 
 from Him women's hearts. You have sullied His 
 throne with sins too foul, too cursed to bear. You 
 have darkened homes. You have ruined the beloved 
 ones of the earth, the pride of mothers, the darlings 
 of many a home, and now comes your punishment 
 the retribution of vice." 
 
 " I see her, I see her," cried the man. " Take her 
 away. I see her face in every loaf of bread above 
 me above me," he gasped.
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. i8l 
 
 "That can never be," replied the voice. "The 
 face of that woman shall be before you, to horrify 
 you for ever and for ever, and the bread you refused her 
 in her need shall be within your grasp to torment 
 you in your terrible hunger, but you shall not taste 
 of it. So for all eternity. " 
 
 Groans, yells, hideous screams rent the darkness, 
 and then Leila awoke. Too amazed to move or 
 speak, she lay wondering at her dream. She had 
 seen Tom, and the unity of the family completed. 
 She had seen swift justice fall with torturing hand on 
 Herbert Clifford, and that gave her comfort. 
 
 Was it, after all, only a fanciful, fantastic vision, 
 devoid of reality and truth, just the freak of a sleep- 
 ing brain ? 
 
 Who shall dare to say " Yes " ? 
 
 Rather, was it not the mystery of the drawing to- 
 gether of kindred souls, of some great magnetic force 
 which bids space defiance and comes to forge the 
 link that death has snapped ? 
 
 That night Tom in his Transvaal home dreamt of 
 Leila. He kissed her many times. 
 
 That night her father dreamt his dead wife was 
 home again, forgiven. 
 
 That night Herbert Clifford had gone to his last 
 home. The day of grace was over. 
 
 " Dreams, only dreams," laughs the sceptic.
 
 1 82 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 THE GOLDEN CORD IS BROKEN. 
 
 SHE was weaker. 
 
 The end was at hand. 
 
 What is that mystic knowledge which comes to the 
 human mind at the time when the sands of life are 
 fast running out? that profound secret which is far 
 removed from earthly comprehension, and which 
 makes itself known to the sufferers alone, warning 
 them that the days of their pilgrimage are nearly 
 spent ? 
 
 Concealed from view, hidden from reason, no man 
 has yet found from whence it has its birth. It 
 comes bringing certainty in its train, a notice which 
 all must heed. 
 
 But why it comes, and from \vhat source it has its 
 being, is a mystery unfathomed to-day and for ever. 
 
 Leila had felt this strange forerunner of death 
 hanging over her, and with it came the stronger love 
 for earthly ties, the wish to see once more those near 
 and dear to her. A longing for her father grew into 
 a passion. She must see him again before she died, 
 and she determined to make one last effort to satisfy 
 her craving. She wrote him a few lines the words 
 in places were indistinct, and the letters quavering 
 telling a sad tale of a weak hand unfit to guide the 
 pen. 
 
 When her father received the little missive he was 
 overcome with grief, and he set off at once to see 
 her.
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 183 
 
 The years had gone past slowly, making him feel 
 very solitary in his old age. As he sat alone in the long 
 evenings, smoking, he would think he had been too 
 harsh with his sinful wife, too exacting with his girl, 
 too ready to part with his young son, more anxious 
 to pass censure as a judge than to be the fond father, 
 the forgiving husband. 
 
 Then he would sigh and murmur, "Too late, too 
 late. My day is nearly over." 
 
 Whilst he was hastening to her side, Leila had be- 
 come so much worse that Castelli had hurriedly sent 
 for the nearest doctor. He came, and looked very 
 grave as he sat by his patient. There was no need 
 to ask her questions. All hope was gone. He could 
 see that by the quick, laboured breathing, the hectic 
 flush, and the awful prostration which overtakes the 
 sufferer before the last. 
 
 Castelli throughout had watched his face intently, 
 as if to read his opinion, and directly they were 
 alone he asked anxiously, 
 
 " Is she very ill ? I should like to know exactly 
 what is the matter, and what is the remedy." 
 
 He spoke nervously as if he were ill at ease. 
 
 "There is no remedy," replied the doctor gravely. 
 " She is dying consumption of long standing. I 
 fear the disease has been coming on slowly but too 
 surely for a long time. All human aid is useless. I 
 can do nothing for her." 
 
 "Dying," gasped Castelli, too shocked at last to 
 believe the doctor's words. 
 
 " Yes, dying," replied the doctor. "I am afraid 
 it is a case of hours now. She is sinking fast. I 
 will call again this evening, but I cannot give you 
 the slightest hope." 
 
 He picked up his hat and took his leave, and Cas- 
 telli was left alone to bear the shock as best he 
 could. The blow had fallen, he could not restore 
 her if he would. 
 
 He was smitten. He cursed himself for his folly,
 
 1 84 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 for his neglect and cruelty ; but that could not stay 
 the hand of death. 
 
 " Good God? what have I done ? " he groaned. 
 " I have killed her, fool that I am." 
 
 He recalled all the miseries she had undergone, 
 and the terrible day when he had struck her. The 
 thought of that deed maddened him almost to frenzy. 
 His mental pain was agonising, and his remorse 
 terrible. 
 
 When he became calmer he went to her, and going 
 up to the bedside, he said with great effort, 
 
 "Leila, my darling Leila, will you kiss me once 
 again ? " 
 
 She looked at him. Such a happy smile lit up her 
 face one of the old winsome smiles which he had 
 loved so well. 
 
 She put out her thin hands and drew his face to 
 hers and kissed him many times. 
 
 "Emilio,"she cried, " Emilio, you love me now 
 as you did in the dear old days at Sandcliffe. I was 
 so happy then, and now the joy has come again. I 
 am so very, very glad. Dying won't be so hard now 
 that you love me again." 
 
 " Don't talk of dying, Leila. You must get better, 
 and keep me company. I cannot spare you yet. I 
 love you with all my heart. Leila, my Leila, I have 
 been a brute to you a vile brute. Can you forgive 
 
 me for all my cruelty, all the " But he could say 
 
 no more, his emotion almost choked him. 
 
 "Yes," she said sadly, "I can forgive you all, 
 because you are so kind now that has made up for 
 the past Once it was hard to bear but now, what 
 peace. Love at the beginning love at the last 
 what can make me happier ? " 
 
 "I could have made your life happier," sobbed 
 Castelli. "Oh, Leila, Leila, you must not die 
 only live, and you shall never ride again, never. I 
 will care for you for ever." 
 
 Years ago he had promised to care for her "for 
 ever. "
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 185 
 
 He forgot that promise. The day was far spent, 
 the night was at hand, promises could avail her 
 nothing. 
 
 " Would you, Emilio? " she asked feebly. 
 
 He could not speak, and so she continued, 
 
 "That can never be, Emilio. My hours are 
 numbered you can do nothing but love me for a 
 little while as you used to do. Will you?'' she 
 pleaded, looking up at him gently. 
 
 "Leila, Leila, don'ttalk like that," cried the strong 
 man in his distress. " I do love you, Leila ; believe 
 I do," and he kissed her passionately. 
 
 She rested a few moments before she spoke again. 
 Her breath was short, and talking was becoming 
 more and more an effort. 
 
 "Emilio, I want to tell you something. You 
 won't be angry, will you ? '' she asked in her old 
 tone of timidity, "but I have written to ask my 
 father to come and see me. I don't expect he will 
 come," she added mournfully, " but I should like to 
 wish him a last good-bye. Will you be kind to him 
 for my sake? It is the last favour I shall ever ask 
 you," she pleaded. 
 
 "I hope' he may come, my darling. Don't be 
 afraid ; I will meet him civilly. I will do anything 
 you ask me," he added mournfully. 
 
 He sat by her side holding one little parched hand 
 in his, raising it now and again to impress a kiss 
 upon it. 
 
 She lay watching him, too weak to say much 
 more, but radiant in mind the early love had re- 
 turned, he smiled upon her as in the old days, and 
 in her joy she forgot all she had endured. The pres.- 
 ent was with her the past dead. 
 
 Kind words were to soothe her path to the grave. 
 His love was to illumine the dark valley and cheer 
 her path to the Strange Land. 
 
 How thankful she felt. 
 
 That afternoon she slept peacefully, hapoy once
 
 1 86 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 more in her husband's love. Her breathing became 
 placid, and Castelli, as he crept into the apartment 
 from time to time, began to hope she might yet 
 recover. 
 
 Alas ! how soon Hope rises in the human breast. 
 
 Whilst she was resting, an old man with snowy 
 hair and beard was shown into the sitting-room, 
 where Castelli was bemoaning a fate which was 
 about to rob him of his wife. 
 
 There was no need to ask the stranger's name or 
 to express surprise at his appearance, for Castelli 
 knew it was Leila's father come at last. He rose 
 and put out his hand to give the old gentleman a 
 welcome, and said quietly, 
 
 "You have come to see your daughter? She will 
 be delighted ; at present she is asleep. You had 
 better rest here, and have some refreshment; you 
 shall go to her directly she awakes." 
 
 Mr. Gurney looked at the speaker as if astonished 
 at his courtesy. He had expected to meet a vulgar, 
 ill-bred man, dressed in black, with a heavy gold 
 chain, and diamonds in his white shirt front and in 
 his sleeve links, with his hat on one side, and gener- 
 ally low and depraved. 
 
 He forgot the members of a large circus are not 
 showmen at a penny gaff. For a moment he did 
 not reply ; he felt a little restraint come over him 
 before his outspoken host, the husband of his child. 
 
 At last he said with an effort, 
 
 "Well, I suppose you are my son-in-law. I am 
 glad we have met, sir." 
 
 Castelli bowed graciously, and then a very awk- 
 ward pause came in the conversation. The men 
 looked at each other in silence, and then Castelli 
 said, 
 
 ' ' As you will not take any refreshment I will go 
 and see if Leila is awake. I must break the news 
 of your visit very gently or it might endanger her 
 life."
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 187 
 
 Castelli had been inwardly planning how he should 
 tell the aged father of his daughter's serious illness. 
 
 "Is she so ill as that? "asked Mr. Gurney, rais- 
 ing as he spoke a haggard, anxious face to Caslelli. 
 "I knew she was ill by her sad letter but I did not 
 expect to find matters so grave. Is she dying? 
 Tell me the truth," and his voice trembled painfully. 
 
 "She is very ill," said Castelli sadly; "it is best 
 for you to be prepared for that." 
 
 The old man moaned. 
 
 " I've only found her to lose her again. It's good- 
 bye, is it another good-bye? " 
 
 " I hope not,'' said Castelli. But his voice did not 
 fall very hopefully on the eager ears strained to catch 
 the slightest gleam of promising news from his lips. 
 
 "God's will be done," responded the old man 
 with reverence ; "but it's very hard to see her die. 
 My punishment is greater than I can bear." 
 
 Castelli winced. Was he not punished too, was 
 not his penalty far greater ? 
 
 The father never dreamt of cruelty and neglect, and 
 the husband was silent. 
 
 Had they not both sinned grievously towards her. 
 
 They knew it. 
 
 " She is awake will you see her? " asked Castelli 
 returning. 
 
 Trembling with anxiety, and filled with silent 
 dread, Gurney entered the room where his daughter 
 lay breathing out her life. 
 
 "Father, dear father." cried the agitated voice, 
 "dear, dear father, you have come to see me." 
 
 But he did not reply. He stood speechless. The 
 shock of seeing his daughter brought back the bitter 
 remembrance of other days in the years which had 
 passed. Since they had met, Leila had become a 
 living image of her beautiful mother, and he recalled 
 the day when his bride had come home in all her 
 fresh young beauty. It seemed as if he could hardly 
 beai to take his eyes from her face.
 
 1 88 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 Castelli withdrew, leaving father and daughter to- 
 gether. 
 
 "Leila, my daughter," cried the old man in a 
 shaky voice, "Lelia. " 
 
 He locked her to his breast, and for a few minutes 
 the silence was only broken by their sobs, then Leila 
 spoke. 
 
 "Father, tell me you have forgiven me. Tell me 
 that before I die." 
 
 In the excitement of the moment he had not no- 
 ticed how ill she looked, and it suddenly struck him 
 like a blow might have done. 
 
 " My girl, my girl, to find you like this. I have 
 come to see you die." 
 
 A heavy sob prevented him from saying more just 
 then, but Leila said hastily, 
 
 " Don't fret, father, for me, but tell me, do you 
 forgive me ? " 
 
 "/forgive you, Leila. It is for you to forgive 
 me. I forgot my duty as a father, and left you, too, 
 alone when I should have been your guide, your 
 comforter. I see it all now, Leila, when it is too 
 late." 
 
 "Don't say that, father dear. I treated you very 
 badly. I was not a good daughter to marry with- 
 out consulting you, but love blinded me to all 
 that." 
 
 "And you have been happy, he has been good to 
 you? tell me that, my girlie," said her father sooth- 
 ingly. 
 
 A flush had overspread her face as 'he spoke. 
 How should she answer that question ? She must 
 save her husband's name, none must know what she 
 had gone through, and she replied evasively, 
 
 " Don't you think he is good and kind? There is 
 nothing he would not buy me, nothing he would not 
 get if it would relieve me from pain and suffering." 
 
 The old man was satisfied. He did not know that 
 such kindness had only been shown to Leila just
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 189 
 
 when all hope of saving her had to be abandoned, 
 and that dark years had been lived through without 
 a murmur. 
 
 " Father, bring- a chair and sit by my side, and let 
 me hold your hand in mine. Dear old daddie, I 
 wish I had loved you more," she said, with deep 
 regret in her voice. 
 
 He did as she desired, and then they talked over 
 the past, Leila giving him all the pleasant descrip- 
 tions of her travels and the places she had visited, 
 but most carefully avoiding any reference to her 
 mother, until at length she was startled by her father 
 exclaiming, 
 
 " You saw your mother before she died your hus- 
 band thinks you were never well after that Leila, 
 where did she die ? " 
 
 The hectic spots on her cheeks deepened as she 
 answered in a low voice, 
 
 " In the house of Herbert Clifford." 
 
 He turned white, a look of mute agony stole over 
 his face, and then he said, 
 
 ' ' She died there, did she ? I'd rather she had died 
 in the street if only she had been repentant," he 
 added sadly. " It is terrible to think she died in the 
 house of her seducer terrible to me." 
 
 "You are mistaken, father dear; she went to see 
 him but one hour before she died she went to ask 
 for a home, for bread, which he refused. She did 
 not sin in that Your letter came the day she died. 
 Thank God she never lived to see it." 
 
 He moaned two or three times as he listened to 
 all the harrowing details which Leila felt it her duty 
 to tell him. When she had finished speaking the ex- 
 citement had exhausted her considerably, and when 
 her husband and the doctor entered the room a few 
 moments later she was lying with closed eyes and 
 righting for breath, her father watching her as one 
 too dazed to move. 
 
 "Who has been talking to the patient and doing
 
 I9 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 this mischief? She is much worse," said the doctor 
 angrily. 
 
 "I have," said Mr. Gurney; "I'm her father, and 
 there has been lots to say to her, and the time will, 
 I fear, be short. Surely my place is here?" 
 
 "I must request you to step into the other room 
 at once," said the doctor severely, " and you must 
 not see her again to-day. Willjyoa see she is kept 
 quiet?" he asked, turning to Castelli. 
 
 "Yes, I will watch her," and then he led the old 
 broken-hearted father from her room. 
 
 As the day faded and the night grew Leila became 
 restless, and at times her mind wandered, and Cas- 
 telli hardly left her for a moment. 
 . It was late the next day before the doctor gave 
 permission for Mr. Gurney to see his daughter, and 
 then he strictly forbade him to worry her with ques- 
 tions, and on no account to excite her. 
 
 "It is cruel to add to her sufferings," he said; 
 tl let her have all the peace we can give her." 
 
 And so her father crept into her room softly, but 
 not too softly to escape his daughter's ear. She was 
 weaker, and her eyes were closed, but she opened 
 them directly he entered. 
 
 "Father," cried the feeble voice, " come here." 
 
 He went up to her, and then she said, 
 
 " Do you think Tom has forgiven me? He has 
 never written since I married. Do you think he 
 loves me still? Has he ever said anything about 
 me in his letters to you ? " 
 
 She was too weary to say more. 
 
 " I must tell you the truth," replied the aged man, 
 tears running down his furrowed cheeks. "Tom 
 wrote to you a great many times ; I don't think a 
 mail passed without bringing a letter for you. When 
 you never replied, he asked me if I had sent them on. 
 In my anger, in my wish for revenge, I said I had 
 done so. I wanted Tom to think badly of you. 
 After that no more letters came for you. I had my
 
 SLA FES OF THE SAWDUST. IQl 
 
 way, but the secret of that sin has lain on my soul 
 until at times I felt I must write and tell him the 
 truth. My child ! my child ! " 
 
 A terrible look of despair and grief had come over 
 Leila's face as her father made his confession, but 
 she only said quietly, 
 
 " Will you write, father, and tell him I never had 
 his letters ? And tell him tell him I am a wife 
 that I have not sinned that I was married in the 
 church. My husband has my lines in a desk. Ask 
 him to let you see them, and then tell Tom, with my 
 last love, that I have never disgraced him. Promise 
 me, father, you will do this for me promise," she 
 added faintly. 
 
 " It shall be done at once," replied her father, 
 deeply moved. " I will tell him the truth the sin 
 is mine." 
 
 " No ; wait just a little while," she pleaded. " Wait 
 until the end, and then write and tell him that I died 
 happily, believing in his love." 
 
 He could not reply. 
 
 That afternoon a change came over her. She 
 grew much weaker, and she felt her death was fast 
 approaching, so she called her husband and father 
 to her bedside and said, gently, 
 
 " Sit down close to me, quite close, or I shall not 
 be able to make you hear, and I have a few last 
 wishes to tell you both. My hours are numbered, 
 and the welfare of my children " she paused for 
 breath "is very near my heart. Emilio, dear 
 Emilio, will you promise me one thing only one ?" 
 
 She waited for his reply. 
 
 " I will promise you anything, Leila, my darling. 
 What is it ? " he asked, sadly. 
 
 " Promise me that neither Vanda nor Adrian shall 
 be apprenticed to your profession that they shall 
 never become acrobats or riders. I could not rest in 
 my grave if I thought they were likely to fall into 
 cruel hands like like that man Horrox. Prom-
 
 192 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 ise, do promise, Emilio," she added plaintively. 
 "Promise before I die." 
 
 Castelli stood holding her hand. He stooped and 
 kissed her, and said slowly and gravely, 
 
 "My darling, I promise." 
 
 "Thank you, oh, thank you!" she murmured 
 gratefully. "I have been thinking that perhaps 
 you would let father have them when you are on 
 tour. The journeys are so long and tiring for little 
 children, they would be best at home. May he have 
 them, Emilio? " 
 
 "Yes, Leila, yes, your father shall have them the 
 times I am travelling on the Continent, but when 
 I am at home I should like them with me. Will that 
 satisfy you, my darling ? " 
 
 " Yes, if father is agreeable." 
 
 "That will suit me," said the old man rapidly. 
 " Don't fret my girl ; the little ones shall be looked 
 after. I won't forget them, trust me for that." 
 
 "They have plenty of clothes," continued Leila 
 feebly, "and everything is in order. When they 
 want more, I think Ringens's wife would get them. 
 She has little ones of her own ; but you will se.e 
 what is best, Emilio. Come to me, both of you 
 together, and take my hands in yours, and kiss me, 
 and say once more that you will care for my children 
 our children," and she looked lovingly at her hus- 
 band. "Promise promise." 
 
 "We do," said both the men together. 
 
 "Now I shall die in peace," she murmured, a 
 lovely light coming over her face " at peace, for 
 they are safe. I should like to sleep now. I am 
 very tired so tired," she said sadly. "So tired," 
 she repeated. 
 
 They sat down, one on each side of the bed, and 
 watched her as she slept. 
 
 She had been resting for some hours in a trance- 
 like sleep. Suddenly she awoke, and turning to 
 Castelli, she said faintly,
 
 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 
 
 r 93 
 
 "Fetch the children. I must wish them good- 
 bye. I am dying," she gasped. 
 
 "Take this first, my pet, "and he held a cup of 
 beef-tea and brandy to her lips. She sipped it, and 
 then said eagerly, 
 
 "Fetch the children before it is too late and, 
 father, will you leave me with them ?" 
 
 Both men hurried to do her bidding, and Castelli 
 led the children into the room and placed them on 
 the bed. 
 
 Vanda gazed with large wondering eyes at her 
 mother, and a terrible fear came over the childish 
 heart, but Adrian began to cry. The darkened, 
 silent room, the white pinched face before him, the 
 awful stillness frightened the tiny child, and he 
 shrank from the loving arms put out to take him. 
 
 His cry awoke the greatest anguish in the mother's 
 heart, for he had been her darling. 
 
 "Adrian, don't you know it's mother? Kiss me, 
 my own pet." 
 
 The charmed voice acted like a spell. His fears 
 dispelled. The child fondled up to her, and in an- 
 other moment his chubby arms were round her neck. 
 She kissed him frantically. It seemed as if she could 
 never stay raining her love upon him. Her husband 
 stood by the door watching the sad scene. Cold 
 and severe as he was it touched him to the heart. 
 
 " Good-bye, Adrian good-bye, my boy. Kiss 
 me again again once more." 
 
 "Are you going away without me, mother?" 
 pleaded the little voice. "Do take me with 
 you. " 
 
 "I cannot. I would if I could, "she panted. "Oh, 
 my child, my child ! '' 
 
 Castelli saw the effort was getting too much for 
 the dying woman, and he took the child gently from 
 her. 
 
 Adrian uttered a sharp cry of anguish as his father 
 lifted him from the bed. 
 
 13
 
 194 
 
 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 
 
 "Take him, Emilio. He is yours now, for I must 
 die. " 
 
 "Mother, mother, I want mother," wailed the lit- 
 tle one. "I will have my mother," he sobbed, and 
 he put out his arms towards her. 
 
 She uttered one faint moan, andCastelli, overcome 
 with grief, hurried away, leaving Vanda alone with 
 her mother. He could not bear another parting 
 scene. He would comfort the boy and the aged 
 father. 
 
 "Vanda," said the weak voice, " mother is going 
 away from you. Will you promise to be a good 
 girl and do all father and grandfather tell you ? " 
 
 The child's voice was choked with sobs. All 
 through her mother's farewell to her brother she had 
 sat as if stupefied, hardly understanding at first, but 
 she knew now that it was good-bye to her too. 
 
 Poor little child ! 
 
 Leila continued: "Will you take great care of 
 my Adrian ? Will you always love him, darling, 
 because mother wants you to do that ? You are 
 nearly seven years old, Vanda quite a little woman 
 so you must promise me to help Adrian all you 
 can, and never be unkind to him." She paused, 
 her words came more weak, her strength was fast 
 failing. 
 
 The child cried passionately. 
 
 " Don't fret, my girlie, but promise to do what 
 mother asks you," and Leila tried to draw the trem- 
 bling, sobbing child closer to her. 
 
 " I will, mammy dear. I will always love Adrian 
 best. I will kiss him like you do, and he shall have 
 all my toys," said the child, sadly. 
 
 A wan smile passed over Leila's face, and she 
 stroked the child's golden curls lovingly and said 
 
 " That's a dear good child. Remember, you are 
 to be his little mother. Never forget your last 
 promise to me, Vanda darling come closer and 
 kiss me."
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAW-DUST. 195 
 
 The child laid her little soft cheeks against her 
 mother's moistening face and kissed her many: 
 times. 
 
 "Good-bye, darling, good-bye. Be a mother to 
 
 my boy, and don't for " She paused, her head fell 
 
 on the pillow. She moaned once or twice, and then 
 the child, frightened, scrambled off the bed, calling 
 as she went, 
 
 "Mother is dead! Mother is dead! Oh, do 
 come ! " 
 
 Castelli had heard his child's cry of fear, and he 
 rushed to the room, followed by the trembling father, 
 and then Vanda took Adrian on her lap, and they 
 both crouched down in the corner of the sitting-room 
 and sobbed together. 
 
 They had loved her very, very dearly. 
 
 She was not dead she had fainted. The last sad 
 farewells to her beloved children had overcome her. 
 The pain had been so acute that it had almost sapped 
 her life. 
 
 Her father and her sorrowing husband stood watch- 
 ing the prostrate form. They both knew the end 
 was at hand the presence of death was making 
 itself felt. 
 
 They bathed her forehead and raised her gently 
 to ease the struggling breath, and Castelli put his 
 strong arms around her. Her head fell heavily 
 upon his shoulder. She opened her eyes and smiled 
 upon them and murmured, 
 
 "Good-bye, father; give Tom my message," 
 and then she looked up at her husband and spoke. 
 He had to stoop down to hear her last words, for 
 they were too feeble now to be caught readily. 
 
 " Emilio, tell me once more you love me tell 
 me " 
 
 Her voice grew silent. Her breath came faintly. 
 She never heard his passionate reply. 
 
 It was too late. 
 
 There was a rustling as of silvern wings, a rush 
 as of angels' feet.
 
 196 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 Neither heard nor seen yet present. 
 
 The breath of Deity was there, showing a golden 
 path from earth to heaven, and an angel stood on 
 either side. 
 
 But human eyes were blind ; they could not see 
 the radiance the glory was not for them. Peace 
 shed forth its hallowing light, and rested on her 
 alone. 
 
 She was dead. 
 
 A groan of despair and remorse from the strong 
 men husband and father violent sobs from the 
 old man were the only sounds which broke the 
 silence in the chamber of death. 
 
 Then they went to her children. 
 
 A few hours later white roses were strewn over 
 the still, cold form. 
 
 Had she not loved them in those days at Sand- 
 cliffe ? Had she not given them to him as a token 
 of her love long ago ? 
 
 He would give her his last love gift, and that 
 should be roses white roses.
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 1 97 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 SHADOWS AND DUST. 
 
 SHE had been dead two days. 
 
 There was a terrible blank in the home. 
 
 Her father had left the house and taken rooms in 
 the town, where he intended to remain until after 
 the funeral. Castelli had begged him to stay at his 
 lodgings, but he could not rest in the same place 
 with his dead daughter. He begged, however, for 
 the children to keep him company. 
 
 " I shall be so lonely now she is gone," he said 
 sadly. 
 
 " You can take Vanda, but I must keep my boy 
 with me. He was her pet ; I cannot part with him 
 even for a few days." 
 
 So Vanda went with her grandfather, and the land- 
 lady good-naturedly promised " to see after the little 
 dear ; " and his days were less long and dreary be- 
 cause the child was with him. He heard from her 
 lips how good "mother had been" how she had 
 taught them to pray every night and morning, and 
 to bless grandfather and grandmother and Uncle 
 Tom. 
 
 The evening before the funeral he sat nursing her. 
 To him it was a great pleasure to watch her, she was 
 so like her dead mother. Even her voice brought 
 back to him his irreparable loss, and he loved to 
 hear her talk of his daughter, and as he fondled her 
 he said, 
 
 "Tell grandfather something more about mother." 
 
 The child looked up at his face and replied-,
 
 I9 8 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 "You didn't love mother much, did you ? because 
 once she did say, ' Vanda, I wish grandpapa would 
 come and see us, but he does not love us well 
 enough.' Don't you, grandad ? " 
 
 Oh, what remorse her words brought to his an- 
 guished heart ! 
 
 "Of course I love you, Vanda darling," he added 
 sorrowfully. 
 
 "Then why didn't you come and see mammy 
 when she was in trouble and so sick?" the child 
 persisted. 
 
 "She had no trouble, darling. She told me so. 
 Father was good and kind to mother, and I am sure 
 he is to you." 
 
 " Father wasn't," replied the child. '* He used to 
 make mammy cry often, and he beats me and Adrian, 
 and once, when grandma was dying, mammy asked 
 father for money to buy her bread, then he used 
 wicked words and mother did cry. They forgot I 
 was in the room." 
 
 Charles Gurney was horrified. His eyes were 
 opened to the true character of the man whom his 
 daughter had wedded. She had not been so happy 
 after all, but the truth lay hidden in the shroud, and 
 it could never be unfolded ; but to test the child's 
 words he said gravely, 
 
 " Little girls must always tell the truth. I don't 
 think mother cried much, did she ?" 
 
 "I have told the truth. Mammy did cry very, 
 very often, and once, just before she was ill. I was 
 in the room when mammy told daddie she could 
 not ride 'cause she was so tired, and daddie did, did 
 say he would give her another beating, if she did 
 not and I know he beat her hard once, 'cause I saw 
 the marks when she look her habit off and mammy 
 did go and ride, and when she came home she went 
 to bed, and the next day the doctor came, and he 
 said, ' Now, little girl, will you be nurse ? ' and I 
 said, ' My name isn't little girl, it's Vanda ' ; and now
 
 SLA YES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 199 
 
 mammy is dead. How long will she be gone? 
 When shall 1 see her again ? '' 
 
 "Some day, Vanda, if you grow up good enough," 
 replied the old man sadly. 
 
 "But daddie won't see her again, will he? "she 
 asked with joy, "'cause mother said she should be 
 glad to die if it wasn't for us, then daddie couldn't 
 go on at her. I suppose she is too far off now to 
 hear him even if he shouts, isn't she, grandad ? " 
 
 " She is in heaven," he replied gravely, "where 
 there is no work, no sorrow, no tears all happiness, 
 Vanda." 
 
 " No circuses? " asked the child. 
 
 "No, Vanda. God is there, and all the angels." 
 
 " Is mother an angel?" said the little child with 
 curiosity. 
 
 " Yes, darling." 
 
 The child pondered for a moment, and then, she 
 asked, 
 
 "And has she wings like a robin, and can she 
 sing and fly about ? " 
 
 "No one can tell you that, Vanda ; but if you are 
 a good girl you will go and see some day." 
 
 "And Adrian too ? " said the child, not forgetting 
 her promise. "I couldn't leave him behind." 
 
 " Then you must teach him to be good." 
 
 "Yes, mammy told me that. How do you make 
 a boy good ? By giving him sweets and things?" 
 asked Vanda innocently. 
 
 "By being good yourself. Whatever you do he 
 will do, and if you vex your daddie then Adrian will 
 do the same." 
 
 The child grew grave, and then she said, 
 
 "But daddie isn't good. Mammy used to say 
 hush, hush, when he would say naughty words, and 
 once when she said that he told her to be damned." 
 
 "Be quiet, Vanda," said the old man, terribly 
 vexed and horrified. " W T hat would mother say if 
 she could hear you ? "
 
 20O SLATES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 "But she can't," replied the child, quickly, "be- 
 cause she lias gone away ; but I won't say it again 
 no, I really won't," she sobbed, as if the sudden rec- 
 ollection of her mother's death was too much for 
 the tender heart to bear. 
 
 He kissed the child gently, and something like 
 tears rose in his eyes. 
 
 He knew now the sad truth which Leila had 
 hidden so skilfully, and his mind was full of con- 
 tempt and loathing for the man who called himself 
 husband, the man who had led him to believe that 
 his daughter's life had been one of happiness and 
 mutual affection. 
 
 At first he was strongly tempted to go straight to 
 Castelli and charge him with cruelty and neglect, 
 and learn if he could whether there was any truth in 
 the childish statements. 
 
 Had they come from older lips' he would have 
 doubted the accuracy. 
 
 But little children are all truth, until the world 
 teaches them the ready lie, and then the petals of 
 the lily are injured then ruined for ever. 
 
 He felt sure Vanda had spoken the truth, yet he 
 decided to be silent. He was convinced that Leila 
 would have confided her sad secret to him had she 
 wished him to be aware of the misery of her married 
 life. 
 
 But she had whispered no such words. 
 
 Neither would he. 
 
 So impressed was he with the child's story that he 
 mentally resolved to keep the little ones with him as 
 much as possible, and to save them from all unnec- 
 essary pain and trouble. At the same time he was 
 determined to avoid Castelli, and in future to be 
 polite and nothing more. 
 
 He was sick at heart. 
 
 The last sad rite was over. The circus rider was 
 left alone in a silent grave in a great bare cemetery, 
 one amongst thousands. The earth had fallen with
 
 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 2OI 
 
 a thud upon the coffin, crushing the white roses 
 which lay upon the top, and then the mourners 
 turned away and went back to the desolate home. 
 
 In the country the autumn day had been glorious. 
 The voice of the ring-dove had broken the stillness 
 of the woods with its gentle "coo coo." The fields 
 were waving heavily with coming corn, amongst 
 which the poppies grew apace. Along the hedges 
 the berries were crimsoning, and the lanes were 
 strewn with fallen leaves, all ruddy and brown they 
 lay, and the robins warbled forth the first carol of the 
 winter. 
 
 Nature was so happy. 
 
 But in the town there was only the heat and dust, 
 the rattle of traffic, the endless passing to and fro of 
 pedestrians, the ceaseless flow of life. 
 
 The pulse of the great town never grew faint. 
 And Leila lay dead amongst the living. 
 
 When all was over, Charles Gurney bade farewell 
 to Castelli, asking if he might return for the children 
 in a month. 
 
 To this their father consented. He had no wish 
 to take them with him to Vienna ; besides, his 
 promises to his dead wife were as fresh as the sods 
 upon her grave. They should go to their grand- 
 father, and this being amicably settled, Mr. Gurney 
 prepared to return to his home. There was much to 
 do before the arrival of the little folks in his country 
 cottage, and he must see his solicitor and alter his 
 will in favour of the motherless children. 
 
 But first of all there was a letter to be written to 
 Tom, that must be done. 
 
 He was full of new desires, and the sooner he 
 began to put them into practice the happier he would 
 feel. 
 
 Alas for earthly hopes ! 
 
 Destiny, which overtakes all, stepped in, and 
 brought with it inevitable doom, which must come 
 sooner or later to end the lives of all mankind.
 
 202 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 
 
 Does not Clotho for ever wield the distaff, and 
 Atropos spin the threads of man's life, and Lachesis 
 divide it just when least expected and apparently 
 most needed? 
 
 These three deities hold the world, and man must 
 die when they will mercy there is none. So say 
 some. 
 
 They had destined that Charles Gurney should 
 die. 
 
 Travelling 1 from Liverpool to London, an accident 
 occurred to the train ; it ran into another which was 
 at a standstill. Luckily for the other passengers the 
 train was proceeding at slow speed or the results 
 would have been disastrous. As it was, Charles 
 Gurney was travelling in a third-class carriage, close 
 to the engine, thus he received the full force of the 
 shock, which pitched him against the opposite seat 
 He was the only occupant of the carriage, and when 
 the train came to a standstill he was found to be 
 dead. His neck had been broken. 
 
 They took him on to the next station, and thence 
 conveyed him to a room at the inn to await the 
 inquest. 
 
 But who was he ? That puzzled the people, for 
 no papers or memoranda were found on his person, 
 and his identification seemed hopeless. 
 
 But Castelli had read of the accident in the daily 
 papers, and he went and identified the body, mak- 
 ing at the same time all the arrangements for the 
 funeral. 
 
 He had refused to bury her mother, but for the 
 sake of the wife whose memory was so fresh in his 
 mind he would pay this last tribute of respect to her 
 father. 
 
 She had not been dead long enough to be for- 
 gotten. 
 
 That was to come. 
 
 Charles Gurney was the only one who met his 
 death in the railway disaster, the only one of those
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 203 
 
 travelling to meet such an awful end the one man, 
 who had the future welfare of two innocent children 
 in his hands. 
 
 Why should he have been chosen and others 
 left? 
 
 Surely there is a fate, after all, which guides the 
 footsteps of life. 
 
 Who can doubt it? 
 
 We may disbelieve, we may scoff, mock, and jeer 
 at those who put their faith in destiny. But contempt 
 must fall when truth stands out so clearly. 
 
 That must always be. 
 
 Leila's dream had come to pass. Father, mother, 
 and child were home at last. 
 
 They were waiting for Tom to share their bliss. 
 
 But the hour of reunion was not yet
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 TOM TRIES HIS LUCK. 
 
 "YES, sir, I shall try my luck with the rest," said 
 Tom to Mr. Bates one morning-, intimating his inten- 
 tion of quitting the store for the diamond fields. 
 
 "Well, you were getting on all right here. It 
 seems to me as if this boom at the De Beers mine 
 has turned everyone's head. You are smitten, too, 
 and throw up an appointment for an uncertainty. 
 I don't think it will be a good thing for all. Some 
 will lose ; everybody cannot make a fortune out of 
 the diamonds," said Mr. Bates with caution. 
 
 "I mean to try," persisted Tom. "I mean to do 
 some business for myself if I can. I shall go up to 
 Colesberg Kopje and see what is going." 
 
 "You'll find things in a terribly rough condition. 
 I know food will be a pretty stiff item. You'll soon 
 spend all you've saved. You'd better stay where you 
 are. " 
 
 But Tom shook his head and replied, 
 
 "No, I've made up my mind to purchase a tent 
 waggon and an outfit and go to the place. I might 
 be successful. Somebody must. Why not I?" 
 
 Mr. Bates made no reply. He saw that Tom 
 would never settle down again to life at the store 
 and that all he might say would be in vain. At the 
 same time he was honestly vexed that Tom should 
 wish to leave him for what he considered was a rash 
 undertaking. He had grown much attached to him, 
 and a strong friendship seemed to be established be- 
 tween the two men. Tom had done his work well.
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 2O5 
 
 There had been no scamping of duties, however 
 hard, and Mr. Bates had no fault to find with his 
 assistant, and his going away was a source of great 
 distress to him. However, he was of far too gener- 
 ous a nature to use any undue influence over his 
 comrade ; and so Tom went his way, and left the 
 roadside store which, if lonely, had at any rate shel- 
 tered him during the years he had most needed a 
 home. The business had enabled him to forget, in a 
 measure, his mother's disgrace, and a feeling of in- 
 tense regret came over him when the last good-byes 
 had to be said, and his voice faltered a little when 
 Mr. Bates came to the waggon and wished him God- 
 speed and shook him once more by the hand. 
 
 Tom was by no means ungrateful for all the kind- 
 ness which had been shown him, but he was seized 
 with a great desire to possess a "claim" at New 
 Rush. He had visions in his mind of untold wealth, 
 of a certain sweet girl whom he longed to call wife, 
 so with these ambitious projects in view he com- 
 menced his journey. 
 
 He was prepared to find things very rough and 
 extremely uncomfortable, but the true state of affairs 
 was far beyond what he had pictured. When he 
 reached New Rush the desolation of the place was 
 depressing beyond description. There were only 
 some thousands of tents, waggons, a few wooden 
 framed canvas erections, and plenty of wretched 
 canteens, the resort of the lowest grades of society, 
 and Tom feared that he would be practically alone 
 even among many. He managed to buy a claim 
 for one hundred and twenty pounds, a lucky chance, 
 as already the original owners, who had pegged out 
 claims when the rush took place, were selling por- 
 tions of them an eighth, a quarter, or a half, as the 
 case might be. He drew up his tent waggon close 
 to the spot and prepared to make that his home. 
 
 All around him were those who came in search 
 of diamonds thousands and thousands eager to try
 
 2O6 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 their luck farmers, shopkeepers, clerks, masters. 
 and men of all sorts and conditions ; but the respect- 
 able members of the crowd were largely in the major- 
 ity, and the rest were, as a rule, fairly law abiding ; 
 their one object was to obtain the precious white 
 stones hidden away in Mother Earth. Day after day 
 they toiled in the heat of the blazing sun, many to 
 return to their canvas homes cruelly disappointed ; 
 but when another day broke they began again to 
 scrape over very carefully the earth, hoping to find a 
 reward for their labour. Hour after hour the patient 
 scratching went on, hope keeping up the heart of the 
 weary labourer. But Tom was so bent upon success 
 that his surroundings were of little discomfort to him. 
 Indeed, his zeal was so great that nothing was likely 
 to upset him so long as his health stood him in good 
 stead, so he determined to make the best of matters 
 and set to work with a will and begin operations 
 without further delay. His claim was thirty feet 
 square, and with the help of two Kaffir boys, whom 
 he hired to do the digging, he soon got to his new 
 venture. Very hard and monotonous it was at first 
 to Tom, who had been accustomed to a much easier 
 life at the store, but he had taken out his digger's 
 licence and made all arrangements to work the claim, 
 and lie determined to continue through all difficulties 
 and to wait for the luck he felt sure must some time 
 come. 
 
 Every day, for two long months, he had sat at a 
 rude wooden table, with the bright burning sun above 
 his head, scraping with a piece of old hoop iron the 
 earth carried to him from his claim by his two Kaffir 
 boys, who continually kept bringing basket after bas- 
 ket and depositing it on one end of his table. Very 
 patiently he had toiled, but so far he had seen no 
 trace of a diamond, and a decided depression was 
 fast creeping over his ambitious hopes, so there were 
 hours when he wished himself back at the roadside 
 store.
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 207 
 
 One morning, when Tom was more than usually 
 depressed and down-hearted, a stranger came up to 
 his table, and stood watching him silently for a few 
 moments, then he spoke. 
 
 ' ' Well, governor, trying to make a fortune ? Pretty 
 hard work, isn't it ? I heard of the ' boom, ' so thought 
 I might just as well ' rush it ' with the rest. Had 
 any luck ? " 
 
 " No," said Tom rather grumpily, and he went on 
 scratching at a mass of earth with hasty vigour. 
 
 "Takes time and patience," replied the stranger, 
 "and if there's no luck the expenses run pretty high. 
 I never heard of such confounded cheek, charging a 
 fellow a bob for a loaf of bread, and five bob for a 
 little bit of a cabbage which would be called a stalk 
 with a couple of outside leaves in England. A cove 
 at the canteen asked me three shillings for a dozen 
 eggs, and seven bob for a bushel of potatoes. 
 'Thanks/ I says, 'I'll give you three bob for the 
 hen, but I'm blest if I will for the eggs, and as for the 
 potatoes, well, I can go without.' Strikes me a 
 goodish few diamonds are needed to keep the pot 
 boiling in these parts," said the stranger heartily. 
 
 " Yes, you'll find everything pretty dear," replied 
 Tom, without evincing much interest in the man, 
 who continued to watch his movements. 
 
 Nothing daunted by his cool reception, the stranger 
 continued, 
 
 "I don't know much about this blessed diamond 
 digging, but I'm going in fora 'claim/ My aunt left 
 me some money, so I shall try the speculation. ' Noth- 
 ing venture, nothing win ' good old adage that. 
 But, I say, what's the licence cost for a digger ? " 
 
 "Seven and sixpence a month," replied Tom, 
 shortly. 
 
 "Oh, seven and six! Anyone would think we 
 were dogs. But there, I'll pay that on the chance of 
 scoring a few thirty-carat diamonds. Now what's 
 the worth of a good diamond ? " the stranger asked.
 
 2o8 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 The question was so direct that Tom was obliged 
 to give a distinct reply, though he did so most un- 
 willingly, for he was tired, heated, and very sorely 
 disappointed, and the intrusion of a stranger just at 
 that time annoyed him considerably. 
 
 "A good-sized diamond of let me see, well, of 
 thirty to fifty carats, is worth, if 'off colour,' about 
 four pounds a carat ; if good colour, twelve pounds 
 a carat; but you have to find them first," said Tom 
 wearily. 
 
 "Just what you are trying to do, by the look of 
 you," said the stranger with good humour. 
 
 Tom was in no mood to be joked, and to show his 
 displeasure he swept a mass of the earth from the 
 table on to the ground. 
 
 " Here, I say, governor, you'll never find diamonds 
 at that rate. Can't you do it more gentle like ? " and 
 as he spoke the stranger looked down at the heap of 
 upturned earth. 
 
 "By Jove ! what's this ? " he cried excitedly, as he 
 stooped to pick up a bit of soil which Tom had so 
 ruthlessly swept from the table. 
 
 " A diamond ! a diamond 1 " shouted Tom in his 
 joy. " Hurrah ! a diamond at last ! " 
 
 " Hurrah ! " said the stranger, "I'm in luck. Just 
 fancy me finding that after you shoved it down. 
 By Jove ! " he cried excitedly. 
 
 "The first found on my claim, too what a jolly 
 lucky fellow you are ! Shake hands over it, old 
 man," said Tom warmly, "and come to the canteen 
 and have a drink on the strength of our luck come 
 along." 
 
 "No, thank you, governor : I'm deuced pleased I 
 was the one to find the first diamond on your claim, 
 but I'm 'sworn off.' The drink it's been my curse, 
 and I mustn't touch a drop," said the stranger with 
 determination. 
 
 "Oh, just this once you can," said Tom persua- 
 sively. "One drink cannot make much difference.
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 209 
 
 You needn't take another. Just think of our luck." 
 
 "Just think of me drunk as an owl, that's more to 
 the point. I guess there would not be much luck in 
 that eh, governor?" 
 
 Tom was decidedly pleased at the man's refusal, 
 but anxious to sho\v him some hospitality, he 
 replied, 
 
 "Well, come to my waggon and have some tea and 
 a chat," said Tom. 
 
 ''I most certainly will with pleasure. Tea is tea, 
 and drink is drink. The one keeps me a man, the 
 other a fool," replied the stranger. 
 
 Together they went to the tent waggon, and after 
 many gloating looks at their precious find they 
 settled down to enjoy tea and a chat. 
 
 As Tom talked the stranger kept his eyes fixed on 
 his face. Surely there was something familiar in the 
 large fearless eyes, and something in the clear ring- 
 ing voice which he had heard before ? 
 
 But how could that be in the great strange land ? 
 And yet he could not rid himself of the fancy, and 
 as his companion continued to chat the feeling grew 
 almost into a certainty. 
 
 "1 say, governor, what is your name?" the 
 stranger asked at last. 
 
 "Tom Hesketh," uttering the surname as if he 
 would rather have lett it unsaid. "And what is 
 yours ? " he continued. 
 
 "Whanks, I'm called just Whanks, and nothing 
 else. So you are Mr. Tom Hesketh, are you ? " he 
 said quietly. "Oh, I fancied I knew you, but I find 
 I don't. Got any relations ? " 
 
 "Yes, a father," replied Tom evasively, "and one 
 sister somewhere in England, but she turned out a 
 great disappointment to us. I have no other rela- 
 tions," he continued, ignoring his mother entirely. 
 
 Whanks was puzzled. He had never known any- 
 one of that name, and yet he could not dispel the 
 feeling that they had met before. 
 
 14
 
 210 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 Tom and Whanks spent the rest of the hot, languid 
 day in talking over the future. Something in the 
 frank, out-spoken stranger made Tom reluctant to 
 part with him, and finally he decided to let Whanks 
 buy a portion of his claim, and they arranged mutu- 
 ally to share the tent waggon and throw their lives 
 into one partnership. 
 
 After the first chat Tom and Whanks never referred 
 to their past lives. Both of them gave all their time 
 and attention to their work, and both men were the 
 happier for each other's company in a strange land. 
 They were drawn together because they both came 
 from the dear old country so iar away. Surely that 
 was a link which nothing could bend or break ? 
 
 Tom's luck seemed to have taken a turn after 
 Whanks had joined the undertaking, for several fine 
 diamonds were found on their joint claim, and Tom 
 began to picture himself a rich man. Buoyed by 
 this hope, he worked with greater vigour than ever. 
 
 Whanks laboured too. But he did more, he in- 
 fused a healthy merry tone amongst the rough and 
 often abandoned men around them, and without in 
 any way joining in dissolute fun. He managed to 
 become a general favourite playing tricks upon his 
 companions, and generally making fun amongst 
 those who had left home and friends to search for 
 riches. 
 
 So much was he liked that one day when it be- 
 came known that he had gone alone, gun in hand, 
 towards the kopjes, and a storm seemed inevitable, 
 the greatest consternation reigned in and around the 
 canteens, and Tom was questioned many times as 
 the heat grew more heavy and the air more still and 
 oppressive ; and although Tom laughed at their 
 fears, he felt seriously uncomfortable to think of his 
 friend, alone and without shelter, if the terrible storm 
 should break before his return. 
 
 Suddenly it burst upon them, and the whole 
 stretch of land, as far as the eye could reach, seemed
 
 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 2 1 1 
 
 a livid mass of fire, whilst the thunder crashed and 
 roared as if it would destroy all the earth with its 
 might and its anger. 
 
 The men in the canteens stood huddled together, 
 silent with fear. But Tom repaired to his waggon, 
 growing desperately uneasy about his companion. 
 
 At last there came one blinding, curling flash of 
 lightning, which seemed to envelope everything in 
 its vivid tongue of flame, this was followed by a 
 heavy crash which died away in angry mutterings, 
 and then there was silence and a calm. Tom ven- 
 tured to look out of his shelter ; everything was like 
 a deluge, the water, from the excessive rain, coming 
 to the height of his waggon wheels, and at the can- 
 teen he saw a man on a horse which swam down 
 the path with the current. But above him the sky 
 grew rapidly blue, the sun shone out resplendent in 
 his glory, the storm had passed on its way. But 
 where was Whanks ? As soon as the water would 
 permit him, Tom descended from his waggon and 
 went to the canteen to see if Whanks had gone in 
 there at the last moment. 
 
 But no, there was no sign of him, and the men 
 shook their heads and expressed their opinion that 
 no man could live out in that storm. 
 
 "He'd be scorched to a cinder," said one burly 
 man. 
 
 " He be drowned like a rat," said another. 
 
 " Dead as a flounder by this time if he ain't in quad 
 somewhere," called a third man in a conclusive 
 tone. 
 
 "We can only hope for the best," said Tom at 
 last ; "he is no fool," he added. 
 
 " Fool or no fool," said the first speaker, "the 
 lightning don't care it would as lief kill one as 
 t'other." 
 
 As they talked Whanks was seen approaching the 
 canteen, gun in hand. 
 
 " Here he is, here he is ! " cried a chorus of voices, 
 and they went towards him.
 
 2 1 2 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 
 
 "Well, old fellow, got home again?" cried one. 
 
 " Where did you ' turn in ' ? " asked another. 
 
 " Where did you shelter ? " chimed in Tom. 
 
 Whanks stood before them smiling, dry, and with 
 a cheery look upon his face, now crimson with the 
 heat of the day. 
 
 In his hand he held his gun and one solitary hare. 
 
 " Here, ask one question at a time," laughed 
 Whanks ; "a fellow cannot answer half of them. 
 Now, I'll tell you just where I've been, and how I 
 escaped, if you care to hear." 
 
 " Go on," they shouted. 
 
 " Well, I had made up my mind to have a bit of 
 an excursion up one of the kopjes and bring down 
 what I could, and this is the result," he added, hold- 
 ing up the hare for his companions' inspection, and 
 then he continued : " I got to the top of the kopje, 
 the sky above me was lovely, no sign of storm, but 
 when I looked down across the basin beyond I saw 
 the clouds in great masses, and the lightning play- 
 ing in the distance, and the thunder was coming 
 nearer. I cut down that blessed ridge as hard as 
 I could pelt, sticking to the gun and the hare like 
 death. By Jove ! how hot it was ! In a few mo- 
 ments the storm clouds covered the sky, it was com- 
 ing nearer every second. I tore on for very life, half 
 blinded by the flashes of lightning. Suddenly I felt 
 a great dab of rain, and holding on to the gun and 
 this blessed hare, I spurted all I knew, for sixty yards 
 away I could see the Kaffir kraals. I reached a hut 
 just as the storm broke, and shot in at the entrance, 
 hare and all. You should have seen the look of as- 
 tonishment on the faces of the women and children 
 as I floundered in ; but they turned a tub over to make 
 me a seat, and there we sat, two Kaffir women, five 
 kids, and myself, gun, and hare. They all talked, 
 so did I, but we didn't understand a word each other 
 said. By Jove ! how hot it was in that hut ! I was 
 nearly sick, and the lightning was a treat I can tell
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 213 
 
 you. For two blessed hours I stuck on that tub, 
 gasping and perspiring until I was all of a sweat. 
 When I looked out after the storm the hailstones 
 were as large as pigeon eggs. I'm blowed if I'll go 
 hunting again in a hurry. I've waded home like a 
 duck in a thunderstorm*; but no more of it thanks, 
 gentleman," said Whanks with a bow. 
 
 A round of applause and two or three hearty cheers 
 rose as Whanks finished his narrative, and then, much 
 amused, they turned to go to their claims, when 
 Whanks called out, 
 
 " Hi ! here! we'll have a raffle for the hare by- 
 and-by, what do you say, gentlemen ? " 
 
 " Put the gun in with it," responded one of them. 
 " And then it'll be worth havin'," called another. 
 
 " Here, look out ! " cried Whanks, and as he spoke 
 he flung the hare at the group of men. A scuffle 
 took place for its possession, which ended in several 
 of the men securing portions of the unfortunate 
 animal, and amidst peals of laughter the party scat- 
 tered to their labours, and the incident of the storm 
 was forgotten in the anxiety for gain. 
 
 Days, months, and years sped on, and time brought 
 ruin to some and wealth to others of the toilers. 
 Many had left their claims, weary, saddened men, 
 broken in health and spirits, with all their hopes 
 dashed into nothing, even as the foam which crests 
 the waves, and though beautiful to the eyes, sinks 
 away from sight on the seashore. 
 
 Others had worked perseveringly to the last with 
 but little regard to their disappointment, but there 
 were some who made great riches, and amongst 
 that lucky number Tom and Whanks stood almost 
 first on the list. On the average, three hundred 
 diamonds in ten months had come to their share, a 
 fair number only a little off colour, and a small per 
 cent, say three or four percent., quite perfect. This 
 continued for some years, and one night Tom said 
 to Whanks,
 
 214 
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 " I don't feel inclined to go on diamond hunting 
 much longer. When shall we go back to the old 
 country? I haven't heard from my father for a long 
 time ; I think I shall go and see the old man." 
 
 " And your sister, too, I suppose?" 
 
 " I don't know about that," replied Tom quickly. 
 
 " Well, I shall go home soon, because a friend has 
 written to me that a someone I knew is dead, and 
 the children are left quite at their father's mercy, and 
 I should like to see to them. But I sha'n't go until 
 I hear again. Maybe there is some mistake as to 
 her death," said Whanks quietly. 
 
 " Her ! " replied Tom, dwelling upon the her, and 
 smiling sadly. " There is a lady in the case, eh? " 
 
 " In her coffin, you mean," said Whanks bitterly. 
 "Ah! Mr, Hesketh, you don't know the circum- 
 stances poor Miss Leila, Miss Leila ! " 
 
 He dropped his voice almost to a whisper. 
 
 " Leila, Leila ! What was her other name? " asked 
 Tom, turning white. 
 
 " Leila Gurney once, afterwards Leila Castelli. 
 Poor thing, poor thing ! I ought never to have left 
 her." 
 
 " What had you to do with her? Tell me, tell me 
 quickly, was she married ? " 
 
 " Married ! " said Whanks. " Of course she was. 
 Are you an old sweetheart, then ? " 
 
 " No," replied Tom. " No ; I am Tom Gurney. 
 My sister's name was Leila. Tell me all all there 
 is to know. Tell me, is she dead ? " 
 
 Whanks and Tom sat that night through, and when 
 the pale stars waned, and when the glories of another 
 waking day were at hand and ready to burst with 
 hues of splendour, they still sat talking. 
 
 There was so much to tell. 
 
 But it was all sadness, for Leila Gurney had known 
 little joy. And as Leila Castelli still less. 
 
 Was the lijrht of her life dead ?
 
 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 215 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 IN SACRED AISLE. 
 
 THE months had measured out their span the years 
 had run their course. Springtimes had changed to 
 winter, summers succeeded each other since Leila 
 had been laid to rest. Many glorious dawns had lit 
 up the lonely grave marked by the plain marble slab, 
 and the last lingering beams of day had, unnoticed, 
 shed their softest light where the circus rider lay. 
 
 Dead and gone, almost forgotten amongst those 
 with whom she had lived and toiled ; forgotten by 
 the applauding audiences, for there were others to 
 take her place, others to do all that she had done, 
 and the people were satisfied. 
 
 Are the dear dead to be cast out of mind like a 
 vision which passes by and is lost to remembrance 
 as time goes on ? 
 
 The widower cries "Yes," the widow is ready to 
 smile at the new fresh love, and to forget the old 
 days when the now dead man had wooed her and 
 made her his bride. Alas ! alas ! Such is death 
 such is life. 
 
 Leila's children had passed through the years 
 happily enough. Their father, if not actually in- 
 dulgent, did not ill-use them ; he had never used 
 personal violence to them since his wife's death. 
 He had so far fulfilled his promises to her. They 
 had been his constant companions in all his Con- 
 tinental engagements, and he left them to follow 
 their own pursuits without much restriction, so long 
 as they caused him no personal annoyance. He had 
 devoted neither time nor money to their education,
 
 2 1 6 SLA VES OF THE SA IVD UST. 
 
 nevertheless the children had managed to pick up a 
 fund of knowledge, acquired by visiting foreign 
 cities and through the girl's natural taste for reading. 
 Vanda had inherited all her mother's refined nature, 
 and she had an intense love for nature and all that 
 was beautiful, and eagerly she sought to understand 
 everything that came before her. Child as she was, 
 she did her best to teach Adrian all she knew and 
 read. But his tastes were somewhat different to those 
 of his sister. She could spend hours reading, but 
 Adrian loved nothing but pictures and poetry, and 
 in books he evinced very little interest unless they 
 contained the life of an artist he could not be per- 
 suaded to read them. He showed no taste for his 
 father's profession, and seldom asked to go with him 
 to the circus. He had made up his mind to be a 
 painter some day, and to paint great pictures like 
 those he had seen in the cathedrals. 
 
 Castelli, to humour him, had bought him a paint- 
 box, and for hours the lad would sit making little 
 sketches with his brush, rude in construction, but 
 showing genius and originality of design. Vanda 
 treasured these boyish paintings, and very carefully 
 she stowed them away at the bottom of her box ; 
 they were the dearest and most precious of her scanty 
 possessions. 
 
 Poor little child, all the love of her heart was cen- 
 tred upon her brother ; there was nothing she would 
 not sacrifice to ensure his comfort. He was her one 
 thought day and night, and in return for this strong 
 affection Adrian gave her a most devoted love. 
 Thus the days passed, and the children, happy in 
 their tender feeling towards each other, never dreamt 
 of sadness coming to cast its shadows over their 
 brightness. 
 
 But the gloaming was at hand. The days of joy, 
 peace, and rest were fast drawing to a close. 
 
 The hereafter was to be for a time hell upon 
 earth.
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 217 
 
 It was in the festive city of Brussels that the cloud 
 first appeared upon the horizon of their young lives. 
 
 The circus had been there some time, and the 
 children had enjoyed the sights of the great gay 
 town. Adrian had spent much of his time at the 
 cathedral, and once he found his way to the Wiertz 
 Musee, and for hours had stood rooted to the spot 
 with wonder. One picture, representing Napoleon 
 Buonaparte in hell, fascinated him beyond descrip- 
 tion, and when he reached home he attempted to 
 portray the well-known figure, in its white coat, with 
 the cocked hat drawn down over the brows. Vanda 
 was delighted with his efforts, and Wiertz himself 
 never received half the praise for his great master- 
 piece that Adrian did from his proud and loving 
 sister. 
 
 At the cathedral Adrian found more difficulty in 
 watching his beloved pictures and statues, for the 
 verger had found out they came from the circus, and 
 several times he had sternly ordered the children 
 from the building when he found they did not come 
 to pray to the Blessed Virgin or to bring offerings to 
 some saint. 
 
 Vanda was afraid to go again ; but one afternoon 
 Adrian had been gone some hours, and she began 
 to grow anxious, and at her father's suggestion she 
 went to look for him. 
 
 Very softly fell her footsteps as she entered the 
 dim, still Cathedral of St. Gudule et St. Michael. 
 She trembled and started nervously when the heavy 
 oaken door gave a creak as she closed it. Very 
 cautiously she entered, looking around after every 
 hasty footfall. Once she paused to listen to a sound, 
 but perchance it was only the pit-a-pat of her own 
 anxious heart. She gained a little courage as she 
 went, and at last she stood opposite one of the great 
 stained windows. She listened again ; all was 
 silent. The last notes of the organ had died away 
 after the solemn vesper hour, the worshippers had
 
 2 1 8 SLA VES OF THE SA WD UST. 
 
 gone homewards, only a faint blue mist remained 
 over the Altar of Mysteries, for it was not long since 
 the incense had arisen to purify the earthiness around 
 the tabernacle, and now its fragrance had floated 
 down the choir and reached the nave beyond. 
 
 The perpetual lamp before the sacred Host flick- 
 ered now and again, making the brilliants on the 
 cross reflect gleams of purple, blue, and crimson, 
 yet they, too, were somewhat veiled in the shadows 
 of the incense cloud. Suddenly the setting sun 
 broke through the painted, figured windows, which 
 tell the story of the stolen wafer, spreading a ruddy 
 glow over transept and aisles, and resting on the 
 deep bays, lighting niches and statues with glitter- 
 ing hues, seeming to rest longer upon the represen- 
 tation of the Saviour of the People. But the shadows 
 came betwixt the ruby tints and the cross of gold, 
 and then the rays lit up the last resting places of 
 many a noble house, brightening the dim vaults of 
 the Princes of the House of Austria, which grew bril- 
 liant with blue and crimson. Intense and chang- 
 ing grew the colours as they glided over the polished 
 marble floor, and then lingered almost lovingly over 
 the girlish figure standing alone beside a mighty 
 column. A halo of brilliance rested upon and around 
 her head. She was crowned with glory as no earthly 
 crown can ever shine, clothed with divers colours 
 with which no artist can ever clothe his model, for 
 were they not the offsprings of a light which never 
 fades or grows dim ? 
 
 Despite her fear, despite her somewhat untidy 
 apparel, Vanda was absolute in her beauty. Even 
 when the sun sank behind the summer clouds, and 
 left the cathedral dim and lonely, even then Vanda 
 was beautiful. She knew that, for did not the groups 
 outside the cafes whisper as she passed. 
 
 Suddenly she paused, and her small voice broke 
 the actual stillness of the spot where she stood. 
 Her voice was so soft that it could not have reached
 
 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 219 
 
 the altar, where the body of Christ, in the fofm of 
 the wafer, rested in the Tabernacle waiting for the 
 "Adoration of the Faithful." 
 
 "Adrian ! " she called, "Adrian ! " 
 
 But no reply came from behind the massive pil- 
 lars, no voice answered that plaintive cry. The si- 
 lence seemed the greater after her voice was hushed, 
 as in the valley when the echo has died away. 
 
 She listened. The light in the cathedral was grow- 
 ing dim, the cloud of incense was gone, the figures 
 of the disciples looked white and cold against the 
 deepening twilight. 
 
 She would call once again, for Adrian often came 
 to watch the changing lights, the pictures, and the 
 altars, with their flowers and gems. She moved 
 towards the Lady Chapel. There, high above the 
 altar, stood a life-sized figure of the Virgin Mother, 
 robed in spotless white. Behind the canvas a light 
 burnt dimly, and in the gloaming the beauty of the 
 figure stood out in bold relief. For a moment it 
 startled her to see that living picture. She had seen 
 it often before, but somehow it looked more pure, 
 more still than she had ever remembered ? 
 
 She wondered if their mother looked like that now 
 she was an angel. 
 
 She gazed awe-struck for a moment or so, and 
 then she called in a louder voice, 
 
 "Adrian ! Adrian ! are you here?" 
 
 But there was no response, only a rattle of keys, 
 a heavy footstep, a cough, loud and prolonged, Van- 
 da knew it was Tose come to light up for the Bene- 
 diction service. If he caught her, a child of the 
 circus, unbaptised, a child who had never confessed 
 to the priests or knelt at the communion ! How 
 often before he had found her lingering there with 
 Adrian ! Ho\v often had he told them to begone, 
 and not to turn the cathedral into a promenade ! 
 So she knew it would be useless to ask him to let 
 her find Adrian, and she turned and fled. And
 
 220 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 whilsj she wandered down the steep hill to the 
 bright boulevard the candies blazed upon the altars, 
 and the organ poured forth glorious strains, and the 
 kneeling people raised their voices in the Ave Maria 
 Stella, and priests bowed before the consecrated 
 wafer and worshipped, but Vanda never prayed now. 
 
 When she reached home she found Adrian there ; 
 he had come in whilst she had been seeking him in 
 the cathedral. 
 
 "Father has been gone ever so long," said the 
 child, " and I couldn't think where you were. Will 
 you read something to me, Vanda?" 
 
 "We will have some supper first, Adrian, and 
 then I will read to you about Zeuxis," replied Vanda. 
 
 "Who is Zeuxis ?" asked the child. " If he is a 
 horrid king out of the history of some place I don't 
 want to hear anything about him." 
 
 "Zeuxis was a Grecian painter, Adrian." 
 
 The child's eyes brightened at once, his interest 
 was aroused, and he said, - 
 
 "A painter ! Tell me some more about him, and 
 where did you see about him ? " 
 
 "In a book which Ringens gave mother long, 
 ever so long ago. Zeuxis painted a bunch of grapes 
 so like real grapes that the little birds came and pecked 
 them, and then he did another picture, a boy, I 
 daresay like you. holding a bunch of grapes, which 
 the birds also flew to and pecked ; but this made 
 the painter very angry, because he said his picture 
 was not natural, and that if he had drawn the boy 
 as well as he had planted the grapes, the birds would 
 have been afraid of him. Was not that funny, 
 Adrian ? " she asked, glad to have something to tell 
 him which gave him pleasure. 
 
 "Is he dead ? " asked the child. 
 
 " Years and years ago ; he died from laughing at 
 the picture of an old woman he had painted," replied 
 Vanda smilingly. "But I sha'n't tell you any more 
 until we have had supper."
 
 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 1 2 1 
 
 They sat down together to eat the portions which 
 Castelli had prepared for them before he went to the 
 circus, and then Vanda set herself the task of reading 
 and amusing Adrian until their bedtime. 
 
 Whilst they chatted happily at home a man and 
 woman were walking slowly under the trees in the 
 Boulevard de Waterloo. The gas lamps flickered 
 on the splendid beauty of the woman and on the 
 fierce, cruel face of the man, who was talking with 
 great earnestness. 
 
 "If you can get round him the thing can be 
 arranged easily enough get them into my hands 
 I am determined I will at any cost," said the man, 
 with a fiendish gleam in his bright, cold eyes. 
 
 "You still bear the mother a grudge, do you?" 
 asked the woman, smiling sweetly. 
 
 "You know I do, Cleo. I swore I would have 
 my revenge for taking that summons out against 
 me. I lost a good engagement over that cursed 
 business had to ' cut ' for fear of what might come 
 out if she went into the court. I hate her memory," 
 said Horrox with a hiss. 
 
 " And so do I," replied Cleo. " If it had not been 
 for her infernal scheming I should have been Cas- 
 telli's wife. She took the only man I loved from 
 me, and if I can plan revenge on her children, trust 
 me for doing so. You shall get them into your 
 power before long, I bet. The girl must be about 
 twelve or thirteen, and the boy a year or so younger. 
 They told me down at the circus that Castelli lets 
 them do just as they please, and they spend all the 
 blessed day at picture galleries and idling away their 
 time. Neither of them have been brought up to 
 earn a penny, but they are stunners just lovely 
 children. When did you see them last ? " 
 
 "Yesterday," replied Horrox. "You seel don't 
 open here until Saturday night neither do you 
 but I thought it best to scheme out the future and 
 get matters settled, and then we shall see what they
 
 222 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 will have to earn for me. I'm damned if they will go 
 to any more picture galleries. They will have to 
 keep me, and take your oath my training won't err 
 on the side of kindness revenge is sweet and I 
 long to get the handling of them. It must be done 
 somehow," replied Horrox determinedly. 
 
 "But Castelli will never give them up to you," 
 said Cleo with certainty in her voice. 
 
 "Who the devil supposed he would," replied the 
 man with anger. " You must get him to apprentice 
 them to someone, and I will arrange for them to be 
 handed over to me, and then we'll see what hard 
 work and the whip will do. I sha'n't spare them ; 
 the mother had her turn against me, and now it's 
 my turn against her brats. If I don't have my re- 
 venge my name isn't Horrox." 
 
 "Right you are," replied Cleo with a satisfied air. 
 "Castelli has been sweet enough to me since his 
 wife died, but that goes for nothing it's his way 
 with women ; but I'll bring about the matter some- 
 how. Leave it to me." 
 
 "I'll stand you something handsome when you 
 have done the job ; but whatever we do we must 
 keep quiet, and don't hang on to me down at the 
 circus. And when you suggest to Castelli that his 
 children should be apprenticed, lay it on strong that 
 they should go to a man who will take care of them ; 
 at the same time we must choose him, and make 
 arrangements with him to pass them over to me." 
 
 "That's a matter for detail later on," replied Cleo ; 
 " we have to get them first." 
 
 They walked on some distance, then turned into 
 a cafe and refreshed themselves with coffee and cog- 
 nac, and before they parted that night the ruin of 
 two children had been planned, two happy lives 
 were to be marred by cruelty and brutality, two 
 more white slaves to be added to the ranks of those 
 who suffer for the pleasure of the people. 
 
 Slavery, of course, it is not called it owns the re-
 
 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 
 
 223 
 
 spectable name of apprenticeship, but what else can 
 it be ? There is, after the training is over, a weekly- 
 wealth for the master for the little children, hard 
 work, drudgery, blows, torture, and no pay. 
 
 But perhaps that is not slavery after all. 
 
 Christian England cannot yet decide. 
 
 It may some day.
 
 224 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 A BROKEN PLEDGE. 
 
 STEALTHILY and ingeniously Cleo set about her task 
 of taking Castelli's children from their home. She 
 put forth all her talons, and like a bird of prey she 
 was determined to seize her spoil at the first oppor- 
 tunity. 
 
 Cruel and heartless, and burning with an unquench- 
 able revenge, no tender feelings arose in her heart 
 for the young children whose happiness she was 
 planning to destroy. 
 
 Many women are born without that most priceless 
 gift, a tender heart. In them stillness reigns where 
 yearning sympathy should live ; a hollow void chills 
 passion which nature would gladly obey ; they know 
 not the feelings which soften life and give joy to 
 the eyes and balm to the sorrow stricken. 
 
 There are too many such. 
 
 After Leila's death Cleo had thrown herself con- 
 tinually in Castelli's way. At first he treated her 
 with silent contempt the remembrance of his dead 
 young wife was too keen to permit him to take much 
 notice of any woman, for he honestly mourned her. 
 But Cleo was patient, and contented herself by wait- 
 ing until his affection for his wife had passed off. 
 She contrived to procure engagements wherever Cas- 
 telli happened to perform, and thus they were con- 
 stantly thrown together. As time went on he grew 
 more civil towards her, and would even enter into 
 short conversations with her at the rehearsals. At 
 such times she used all her powers to fascinate him. 
 Once or twice she had offered to go and see his 
 children, but this Castelli had sternly refused, for
 
 SLA VES OF THE SA WD UST. 225 
 
 he was sufficiently honest to own to himself that she 
 was not the sort of companion Leila would have 
 chosen for her little ones. 
 
 But, like the water-washed stone, time wears away 
 the rough surface of sorrow, and life comes to look 
 very much as it did before the great grief came to 
 shadow it with care. 
 
 And as the years sped on Castelli unconsciously 
 began to find delight in her society, and a strong and 
 exclusive friendship sprang up between the two, she 
 gaining influence over him gradually but surely. 
 But still he showed no indication of wishing to make 
 her his wife, and Cleo, try as she might, could not 
 bring him up to the desired point. 
 
 One morning after a rehearsal Castelli stood in the 
 ring talking to Cleo. 
 
 " You're going to Bombay you're joking surely ?" 
 said Cleo. 
 
 "I have had the offer to go out to a circus there, 
 and I am sick of England, so I think I shall go." 
 He paused as if anxious to see how the proposition 
 affected his hearer. 
 
 "When do you propose to start?" she asked 
 curtly. 
 
 " After the Christmas holidays are over," he re- 
 plied. " It will be a change altogether ; yes, I am 
 sure I shall take the engagement. There is only one 
 obstacle in the way or I shouldn't hesitate a mo- 
 ment." 
 
 "The children, I suppose you mean? You can't 
 drag them to Bombay, the expense would be just 
 awful, and it wouldn't be good for them," answered 
 Cleo cautiously. 
 
 "You've hit it," replied Castelli ; "it's the children 
 I am thinking about." 
 
 "Oh, you don't mind leaving me, that's plain," 
 said Cleo as a try on. 
 
 He hesitated before he replied, and then he said 
 smilingly, 15
 
 226 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 
 
 "I shall miss you, Cleo, but I cannot expect you 
 to go out there." 
 
 "Why the deuce not?" she asked, looking him 
 straight in the face. 
 
 He hardly knew what to reply, and then he 
 said, 
 
 " You might find it rather difficult to get an engage- 
 ment at your business ; it's a toss up whether they 
 need anyone in your line. I'll try and find out 
 through the agent if you like," 
 
 She paused before she spoke again ; the chance 
 was too good to be lost by want of tact or by being 
 in too great haste. 
 
 " I don't know that I should care to go so far alone. 
 You see if I was married and had someone to look 
 after me I shouldn't mind how far I went. Don't 
 trouble to inquire at present, I must consider," she 
 replied quietly. 
 
 "Ill look after you," said Castelli quickly, really 
 anxious to have the clever southern woman as his 
 companion. 
 
 "Oh, yes, and then go and get married like you 
 did before, and leave me to get on as best I can. 
 Oh, no, thanks ; much obliged for the offer." 
 
 The sarcasm in her voice struck Castelli painfully, 
 but he replied sternly, 
 
 "I shall never marry again; I could not find 
 another Leila if I sought the world over," and a 
 shadow of sadness came over his face. 
 
 Cleo noticed it, and a very bitter feeling of resent- 
 ment against the dead woman ro'se in her heart ; 
 but she stifled it, so that he should not see how an- 
 noyed she was at the praise he had bestowed upon 
 his wife. 
 
 "That's true enough, I daresay, but there are 
 other women who would be just as fond of you if 
 you gave them half a chance," she added as a 
 hint. 
 
 "Yes, but that isn't much good if I don't love
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 227 
 
 them. Love doesn't grow on every tree, by a long 
 chalk ; you can't find mistletoe on every branch. 
 No, no ; I'll look after you, Cleo, with pleasure, but 
 the wife business is out of the question." 
 
 Cleo grew crimson as he spoke, and replied an- 
 grily, 
 
 "/don't want to be your wife if thats what you 
 think I'm driving at. I only said I did not want 
 to be chucked up if you married again, and then the 
 children they must be th " 
 
 A crack of a whip, a thud of horses' hoofs. A 
 young girl and a powerfully built, severe-looking 
 man left the ring. He turned to Cleo, saying brusque- 
 
 iy,- 
 
 " Here, clear out of this quick ; it's my turn here 
 now." 
 
 " You be hanged with your sauce ! " she retorted, 
 angry at being disturbed, but she moved away as 
 she spoke, whilst Castelli remained to talk with the 
 manager. 
 
 As she passed out of the circus Horrox was stand- 
 ing on the pavement, and he came up to where she 
 stood. 
 
 "It's no go yet, "she said, shaking her head ; "he's 
 off to Bombay. He doesn't intend to marry again. 
 He can't forget the blessed Leila. It's my belief 
 he'll take the brats with him, and if so you may 
 whistle for your revenge," she answered with a 
 sneer. 
 
 "The devil! Did you ask him to marry you, 
 then ? You seem darned put out," he replied calmly. 
 
 "No ; I hinted it to him just to see which way the 
 land lay. You may trust me, I'll get him somehow. 
 I don't care which way it is," she said with anger. 
 "But leave it all to me, and to-night I'll think what 
 will be the best means to work the dodge. He says 
 he does not know where to leave them, and to- 
 morrow I mean to make him an offer." 
 
 "You! He won't leave them with you," said
 
 228 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 Horrox quickly; "surely you're not such a fool as 
 to suggest that ? " 
 
 " Leave it to me. Either let me manage the thing 
 or do it yourself, and go to the devil for what I care," 
 she added with passion. 
 
 "Not to-day, thank you; perhaps I may some 
 other day," he replied flippantly. 
 
 She ignored his remark and said coolly, 
 
 "Well, au revoir. I shall win the game yet." 
 
 An oath fell from his lips, but Cleo had passed out 
 of hearing. 
 
 "She's a perfect devil, there's no mistaking that 
 Castelli is too wideawake to marry her I bet. He'd 
 be a blamed fool if he did." 
 
 He uttered another vile oath and sauntered towards 
 his apartments. 
 
 Castelli, walking hurriedly, passed him. He gave 
 Horrox a curt nod as he passed. There was no fel- 
 lowship between the men. 
 
 A mutual but silent hatred existed, and they seldom 
 exchanged common civilities. 
 
 When Cleo went home she thought out many a 
 crafty plan, and after sitting quietly for some time she 
 said aloud, 
 
 "Le Sale, he's the man to send them to at first, 
 and then Horrox must bargain with him ; that's his 
 part of the show. But I shall have to go pretty gin- 
 gerly to work with Castelli." 
 
 It was some days before another opportunity oc- 
 curred for her to speak to Castelli, and in the mean- 
 time he had been thinking how much he should miss 
 Cleo when he had left England. Somehow the hand- 
 some Spanish woman always fascinated him, and 
 his thoughts were constantly wandering to her. She 
 had won his heart, but he was loth to own it. 
 
 She looked unusually handsome when she walked 
 into his room at the circus one evening when her per- 
 formance was over. His "show" was over and he 
 was preparing to leave.
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 229 
 
 " Don't go, Castelli. I want a word with you," she 
 said eagerly. 
 
 He looked up at her bright, cheery face, and at 
 once remained to hear what she had to say. 
 
 "When you spoke of going to Bombay the other 
 morning you led me to think that your children were 
 the bugbear. I have thought since why not let 
 Le Sale have them? He wants apprentices, so I 
 hear." 
 
 She paused and waited anxiously for his reply. 
 
 "Put Vanda and Adrian to the show business? 
 That is impossible. I promised my wife that neither 
 of them should be apprenticed to our work, and I 
 mean to keep to it," he said firmly. 
 
 "But I think Leila must " 
 
 Her sentence was interrupted by Castelli exclaim- 
 ing impatiently, 
 
 "Don't speak of my wife by her Christian name. 
 You were not her friend, and I object to it, once and 
 for all." 
 
 She saw all would be lost if she did not humour 
 him in his present frame of mind, so she replied 
 sweetly, 
 
 "I beg pardon, I meant no offence. You see her 
 name figured on the bills, and we all seemed to best 
 know her by her Christian name, but I didn't mean 
 to upset you. I must be careful in future ; but I am 
 sure Madame Castelli only meant you to promise 
 they should not fall into bad hands. She was not the 
 sort of " person she was going to say, but she sub- 
 stituted "lady to wish them to do nothing. Suppose 
 you died, what would become of them ? They would 
 be much better earning for themselves than left to 
 starve in the streets." 
 
 "That maybe so," replied Castelli, "but she made 
 me promise all the same. You see the Horrox affair 
 upset her, and after that she made up her mind to keep 
 the children clear of it." 
 
 "Oh, Horrox is a brute I" Cleo replied cunningly,
 
 230 
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 "but Le Sale is very kind to his children ; he en- 
 courages them by kindness. I have heard that he 
 has never 'flicked 'his whip at any of his apprentices. 
 Perhaps your wife was not aware such masters existed 
 among us ? I bet Le Sale would suit any mother. 
 Have you seen him ? " she asked quickly. 
 
 Castelli smiled and then replied, 
 
 " Yes, I have met him at lots of Continental 
 circuses ; he is a fool. I should like to know what 
 he has scored with his pupils. Why none of them 
 have been big successes ; he reminds me of a tame cat 
 in the ring. Once when Belaine was ill he asked Le 
 Sale to put his celebrated trick horse through his per- 
 formance. Well, I never saw such a beastly muddle 
 as he made of the show. He stood in the middle of 
 the ring more afraid of the horse than the horse was 
 of him, but 'Wainfleet' knew his work, and when 
 the music changed he understood what came next, 
 and just went on without any master. Le Sale 
 cracked his whip feebly now and then, and bowed 
 nervously when the people applauded. The horse 
 just went on as if the man wasn't there, and that old 
 fool got as red in the face as if he was going to have, 
 a fit ; and when he came out of the ring I asked him 
 for fun how he had got on, and I'm darned if he 
 didn't answer as meekly as a modest curate : 'Oh, 
 the horse got on all right if he had forgotten, I 
 don't quite know what I should have done, but luckily 
 he didn't.' A man like that can't train. I've heard 
 him trying to check some of his girls when they have 
 been impertinent to him, but they don't care a hang 
 for him. Vanda would do more harm than good with 
 such a noodle." 
 
 "Oh, she'd like the fun, without the worry and 
 brutality of training," replied Cleo. " It must be dull 
 work for the children, alone nearly all day. Le Sale 
 may be a fool, but he is kind, and you seem to be 
 able to provide for them now, so it does not much 
 matter whether they ' score big ' or not, and they
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 231 
 
 must be a dreadful nuisance to drag all over the 
 country." 
 
 As she spoke Castelli called to mind what a daily 
 anxiety his children were. There ^*as their food to 
 order, their lodgings to pay, their clothes always 
 seemed to want repairing or renewing, and his land- 
 lady ran him up high bills for "attendance," and 
 when he complained she told him "children were a 
 worrit, and kept her on the run all the blessed day," 
 and so he settled the accounts with an oath. 
 
 He began to think that Cleo's suggestion was a 
 good one, and that the children would be better off 
 employed, and of course Le Sale was not a man 
 like Horrox. He might do well to consider the 
 matter. 
 
 "Yes, they are a bother when I am travelling," 
 says Castelli. "I'll think over what is best to be 
 done with them before I go to Bombay." 
 
 "You are going then ? " asked Cleo, " and all alone 
 too?" she asked inquiringly. 
 
 He looked at her, their eyes met, and then he 
 spoke. 
 
 "Would you care to come with me, Cleo?" he 
 asked her gently. "I am very lonely, and if the 
 children go I shall be quite desolate." 
 
 He smiled almost sadly as he spoke, and the 
 pathos in his voice would have touched any heart 
 with sympathy, but Cleo was not moved to compas- 
 sion. 
 
 "Yes, I will go with you, Castelli, but as your 
 wife, or not at all." 
 
 "Then it must be not at all," replied Castelli 
 firmly. " I shall never marry again, never." 
 
 " Well, I suppose we must wait until I can per- 
 suade you to marry me, but I think you're awfully 
 shabby," said Cleo with a sigh. 
 
 " Not at all," answered Castelli. "I am just tell- 
 ing you truth, and giving you the choice. You 
 must accept me on my conditions or give me up."
 
 232 
 
 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 
 
 She could never do that ; her passion for him was 
 too strong, and her desire for revenge on the dead 
 wife was still more strong and perhaps he might 
 marry her someday, and she would not let him go. 
 
 " I cannot give you up," she cried passionately. 
 " I will go with you to Bombay, or anywhere else 
 in the world. Do take me with you, Castelli," she 
 pleaded. 
 
 He hesitated for a moment and then said, 
 
 "Very well, it is settled; I will treat you well, 
 and in future we will share and share alike, and I 
 must do my best, Cleo, to make you happy." He 
 stooped and kissed her. 
 
 " I'll help you all I can, and you settle the children 
 up with Le Sale, and then we shall be free." 
 
 Castelli answered, 
 
 " If you like, Cleo. I suppose it's best ; but mind, 
 Horrox must on no account get hold of them. If 
 Le Sale likes to have them he may, but no one else 
 shall." 
 
 "I'll see to it, Castelli, trust me," and she kissed 
 him again and again. 
 
 The bargain was struck, and Cleo began life again 
 with the man for whom she had waited many a long 
 year. 
 
 " Better go anyhow if I can't be his wife. But I'll 
 marry him yet, be hanged if I don't. ' 
 
 She forgot the resolute nature of the man with 
 whom she had to deal, and that if she was deter- 
 mined he could be equally so. 
 
 A week later Vanda and Adrian were apprenticed 
 to Le Sale. Their few things had been packed and 
 under Cleo's charge they had been taken to England 
 and given over to the keeping of their new master. 
 They had shown little regret at leaving their father. 
 He had been away too much to have had a chance 
 of gaining their affections, and Vanda did not mind 
 where she went so long as Adrian was with her. 
 Added to this, their inexperience of the life before
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. ^33 
 
 them made them quite innocent of any trouble or 
 suffering 1 which might be their lot in the future. 
 
 At first they missed their freedom, and in conse- 
 quence they pined a little. The air of London seemed 
 to oppress them, and there were days when Adrian 
 cried to go home ; but on the whole they were not 
 unhappy. Le Sale had a wife and three little chil- 
 dren, who were all nice and gentle to the strangers, 
 and their master himself was very patient and quiet 
 over their first lessons on horseback. Vanda rather 
 enjoyed them, but to Adrian they were a perfect tor- 
 ture. He wanted to paint and be an artist, and it 
 was with great difficulty that Vanda persuaded him 
 that " all grand painters knew how to ride." 
 
 "Yes," replied the child; "but father said we 
 should have to stay here until we were twenty-one 
 years of age. I should be too old to be a painter 
 then, and I hate the circus I hate it all," and the 
 tears welled to his eyes as he spoke. 
 
 Vanda did not reply, but that evening she told her 
 master how much her brother loved drawing and 
 painting, and Le Sale patted the boy kindly on the 
 back and told him he might be a painter some day, 
 but that he must do his best to learn to ride and then 
 he could paint in his leisure time. 
 
 For Le Sale's apprentices were not slaves. There 
 were many hours in the day when their time was 
 their own, and Mrs. Le Sale was particularly 
 motherly, and grew very fond and proud of Vanda, 
 and the child clung to her with all the warmth of a 
 young heart. Once, when Le Sale looked grave be- 
 cause Vanda had given him infinite trouble in the 
 ring, his wife openly took the child's part, saying, 
 "You cannot expect her to be perfection, Charles. 
 She's only a child, and has no mother nor home to 
 go to. I won't have her upset, so there ! " and Le Sale 
 smiled kindly again at Vanda, who was sobbing 
 aloud. 
 
 "There, don't cry any more, child," he said sadly.
 
 234 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 
 
 "I am afraid I did get cross, but you were very 
 naughty indeed." 
 
 "Yes, yes, I know I was," and fresh sobs almost 
 choked her. 
 
 "Be quiet, do, Charles," repeated his wife. 
 "Don't keep on jawing at the child. Can't you let 
 bygones be bygones. I daresay she will be good 
 to-morrow, won't you, Vanda?" 
 
 But the child could not speak. Her sobs came 
 faster and faster, and then Mrs. Le Sale said, 
 
 "Run off to bed, there's a dear, and Adrian shall 
 bring up your supper, and don't cry any more." 
 When she had left the room Mrs. Le Sale turned to 
 her husband and said fretfully: "I do wish we 
 could do without apprentices. I hope none of my 
 children will ever be trained for the ring. I'd rather 
 they stood at the wash tub in a laundry all day. It 
 worries me to death to see Vanda cry like that. I 
 hope you didn't beat her down at the circus." 
 
 His face flushed painfully and he replied, 
 
 "Annie, how can you ask me such a thing? You 
 know I shouldn't do that, but she must do as I tell 
 her or she may meet with a terrible accident. She 
 must not play tricks with a horse. I cannot allow 
 it," he said more firmly. 
 
 " Well, I suppose you know best," replied Mrs. Le 
 Sale with a sigh, for she almost worshipped her 
 gentle, delicate husband. "But when I see a child 
 cry I feel as if my chest was being turned inside out 
 I can't help it, Charles," added the good woman. 
 
 "You're a dear kind soul, but I assure you Vanda 
 had no need to be so upset. I am beginning to fear 
 she is not very strong. She tires so soon that some- 
 times I feel she ought to be resting with you, but I 
 must train her, or Castelli will be down on me like 
 death." 
 
 "You're looking pretty bad yourself, Charles. I 
 wish you could get strong," and she looked up 
 anxiously at his pale, thin cheeks, and for the first
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 235 
 
 time it struck her how much more delicate he looked 
 lately, and a sudden horror came over her. "Do 
 you feel worse, dear ? " she asked kindly. 
 
 "More tired every day," he replied with a sigh. 
 " I could hardly bear the fatigue of giving Vanda her 
 lesson to-day/' 
 
 "Well, you shall rest to-morrow. Surely someone 
 at the circus could attend to her for once ? Anyway, 
 you shan't," she added decisively. 
 
 He smiled at her loving words and promised to 
 rest for just one day. 
 
 Alas ! it was a long- day of rest, and only ended 
 when death called the toiler home.
 
 236 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 ANOTHER CHANGE. 
 
 HORROX, at Cleo's suggestion, had procured an en- 
 gagement in England so that he could keep his eyes 
 on the children and make his own plans to get hold 
 of them. It was some months before he saw his 
 way at all clear, and Castelli and Cleo had sailed for 
 Bombay, and he was left to manage the scheme as 
 well as he could without Cleo's aid. 
 
 Wandering down to the circus one morning', he 
 learnt that Le Sale had broken a blood-vessel and 
 had been conveyed to the hospital, where he lay 
 in a precarious condition. He hurried thither and 
 found that the authorities of the consumptive hos- 
 pital allowed their patients to see visitors each day 
 at three o'clock in the afternoon. Duly at this hour 
 he presented himself to the sick man, and with many 
 protestations of sorrow at his misfortune, he offered 
 to undertake his apprentices during the enforced ab- 
 sence from his duties. Le Sale, feeling weak and 
 ill, readily accepted what he thought was a kindly 
 offer. He forgot, in his extreme suffering, the char- 
 acter he had heard of Horrox and the severities 
 practiced upon those who came under his regime 
 and the smiling, bland man standing by the bedside 
 did not remind the dying artiste of any such danger 
 to his young apprentices. 
 
 "If you will take their practice I shall be very 
 grateful," said Le Sale feebly. "They can live with 
 my wife and go to you at stated times. Annie 
 wouldn't like to part with them," he added with 
 great effort. 
 
 But this did not suit the plans of the cruel and
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 237 
 
 revengeful Horrox, and he replied with well-feigned 
 kindness, 
 
 " Of course I'll take their practice, that is what I 
 came to offer to do, but I think it would be a great 
 relief to your wife for me to take them to my house. 
 You see it will save her much expense now you can- 
 not work. It costs a sight to feed two hearty chil- 
 dren. If they come to me there is an end to that, 
 until you are strong again." 
 
 Horrox knew too well that Le Sale would never 
 be well ; but to gain his dastardly ends he held out 
 the hope. 
 
 "Yes, I forgot Annie has not much money. It 
 will be best for you to take them for a bit, until 
 I am about again ; but I am afraid Annie won't like 
 them going," he answered in a tired voice. 
 
 "I think she will see it is best," replied Horrox 
 curtly. 
 
 The sick man lay back on his pillows, gasping 
 for breath, and did not reply for a moment, and 
 then he said, 
 
 "I daresay she will. Two mouths are a great 
 deal to fill, and I can earn nothing now." 
 
 "Very well, then, I will take them over, but you 
 had better just write a few lines telling your wife 
 they are to be given up to me until such times as 
 you can undertake them again." 
 
 Horrox, as he spoke, drew a sheet of paper and a 
 pencil from his pocket, and placing the materials as 
 handy as he could for Le Sale to write, he waited 
 anxiously for the letter which would empower him 
 to take possession of the two hapless children. 
 
 Tremblingly Le Sale held the pencil and tried to 
 write the words which Horrox dictated, but he was 
 powerless to do so, and said feebly, 
 
 "I am afraid I cannot write all my strength has 
 gone," he said sadly. 
 
 "Well, suppose I write it and you sign it," said 
 Horrox cheerfully.
 
 238 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 Le Sale nodded gratefully, and then Horrox 
 wrote : 
 
 "It is my wish that Vanda and Adrian Castelli, 
 apprenticed to me until they become of age, shall be 
 handed over to James Charles Horrox, to be trained 
 by him as acrobats and riders, until such time as I 
 can undertake them, when they shall be given up at 
 my demand, and all claims of James Charles Horrox 
 to the children's services shall be at once forfeited." 
 
 He laid down the pencil and read the document 
 over to Le Sale, who said quietly, 
 
 "Yes, that seems fair enough. I am satisfied." 
 
 "Now, you'll try and sign it, and then I will," 
 replied Horrox kindly. 
 
 After many attempts Le Sale managed to put his 
 name in faint letters to the agreement, and then 
 below it Horrox wrote his, in a fine bold hand, 
 agreeing to take over the apprentices a sad contrast 
 to the quivering, shaky signature above. 
 
 " Now, you need not worry about them whilst you 
 are ill," said Horrox gently ; " they will be all right 
 with me." 
 
 "You must take care of Vanda," whispered Le 
 Sale, for the business anxiety had made him feel ex- 
 hausted. "Vanda isn't very strong, don't forget 
 that," he said pleadingly, and then after a pause he 
 continued : " the last evening I was at home she cried 
 dreadfully, I remember that, and when she came 
 here with Annie to see me she looked white and 
 ill." 
 
 He could say no more, and Horrox replied, 
 
 "I will take care of her, Le Sale. It wouldn't 
 pay to do otherwise." 
 
 At that moment a nurse came up to Horrox and 
 explained that his presence was disturbing her 
 patient and that he must be good enough to leave 
 him to rest.
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 239 
 
 Horrox was only too glad to follow her wishes. 
 He had got all he could from the sick man, and now 
 he did not care how soon the interview was ended. 
 The nurse followed him towards the door of the long 
 ward, and then Horrox asked her what chance there 
 was of the recovery of Le Sale. 
 
 "None at all," she answered promptly ; "it's only 
 a matter of days. He is much weaker than he 
 was." 
 
 "I am sorry/' said Horrox cutely. "The poor 
 fellow and I belong to the same profession, and we 
 have met off and on for many a year." 
 
 The nurse expressed no sympathy. Death to her 
 was nothing more than an event which occurred 
 daily merely " part of the business '' for which she 
 had been trained. 
 
 Love and commiseration are not to be found in 
 hospital wards. 
 
 True all that human skill can devise is done for 
 those who lie at death's door true that nurses and 
 doctors "do their duty." 
 
 Can one imagine it quite possible that tender- 
 hearted women could remain day after day within 
 sound of the moans wrung from the agonised suffer- 
 ings of their fellows, and witness sights which make 
 the blood run cold in the veins and the heart sick 
 with pain ? 
 
 After leaving the hospital Horrox wended his way 
 to Lambeth to claim his victims, but he met with the 
 greatest opposition from Le Sale's irate wife. 
 
 "My husband sent you here for Vanda and 
 Adrian ? I don't believe a word of it, so there ! " 
 she replied in answer to Horrox's demand for the 
 children. "You think, because my husband's ill, 
 you can come here and worry a forlorn woman, but 
 you've reckoned on the wrong card, my man. 
 You've no call to come here at all, so there ! " she 
 panted. 
 
 "I've come for the brats, and I mean to have
 
 2 4 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 them. I hold your husband's authority to take them 
 with me at once," replied Horrox severely. 
 
 " He hasn't got any authority now he's laid low, 
 and you'll have to leave as you came without 'em. 
 So just take yourself off my doorstep ; I've got quite 
 enough worry without cleaning it twice a day. 
 That's the worst of being ground floor lodger, you've 
 got to do the cleaning downstairs." 
 
 Horrox took no notice of these remarks, but he 
 said more sternly, 
 
 "My good woman, I've come for Vanda and 
 Adrian Castelli, and I shall not leave without them." 
 
 "Then you'll stand there till you die. They are 
 not yours to have, and as to coming from my hus- 
 band, that's all gibberish." 
 
 Mrs. Le Sale had grown excited, and her voice in 
 consequence had risen to a high pitch, and much to 
 Horrox's annoyance a small and curious group had 
 collected to "hear the fun." The dairyman had 
 ceased his cry of "Milk ho 1 " so that he could stand 
 to listen ; an errand boy whistling "She lives in 
 Camden Town " paused in his melody, and putting 
 his basket on the pavement, leant against the iron 
 railings to see what was "up." Suddenly he caught 
 sight of a "pal," and he yelled out, "Come and see 
 the old woman a-going it," and in answer to the in- 
 vitation a telegraph boy sauntered up, and forgetful 
 of the importance of the missives stowed in his little 
 black pouch, he took his stand by the side of his 
 companion. 
 
 " What's the row ? " he asked. 
 
 " It's a lodger that hasn't paid his rent, I guess," 
 said the errand boy with glee. 
 
 " I bet it's a broker as can't get in," answered the 
 other. 
 
 These and other remarks at last reached the ears 
 of Mrs. Le Sale, and she exclaimed to her visitor, 
 
 "Come in, do; can't you see how we are being 
 stared at? We shall have the police here directly,
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 241 
 
 or the fire engines, to see what's the matter. Wipe 
 your shoes," she continued, " and look where you 
 are going, the passage isn't over light." 
 
 Horrox followed her into a small but well furnished 
 sitting-room, and when he was seated she said, 
 
 "You can't see the children. Vanda is lying 
 down, she isn't strong, and Adrian is painting and 
 I shan't disturb them," she added defiantly, look- 
 ing at his cold, cruel face with distrust. 
 
 "Very well, madam, then I shall call in the police 
 to assist me. I hold a paper here which gives me 
 absolute control over your husband's apprentices 
 until he is sufficiently recovered to continue their 
 training." 
 
 "Let me see it," she asked with determination. 
 
 He pulled it from his pocket and showed her the 
 signature of her husband, and then he added, 
 
 " Can you deny my claim now? The best thing 
 you can do is to get the children ready, and their 
 clothes, and in half-an-hour I shall take them ready 
 or not ready, or call the police." 
 
 Horrox had no intention of calling in any aid, or 
 to call attention in any way, his scheme and his 
 document was far too shaky to do that. But Mrs. 
 Le Sale did not know that, and after seeing her 
 husband's signature she collapsed entirely. 
 
 " He always knows best," she cried, the tears in 
 her eyes, "but it's like parting with my own. I 
 don't know what I shall do without Vanda, she is so 
 useful just now. Couldn't they sleep at home, sir? 
 You could have them all day," she pleaded. 
 
 "They are going to Selchester with me this even- 
 ing, so once more let me remind you there is no 
 time to lose," said Horrox firmly. 
 
 Stifling her sobs, yet anxious to carry out her hus- 
 band's wishes, she left the room and told the children 
 of the sudden change in the arrangements. Both of 
 them cried most bitterly, but Mrs. Le Sale told them 
 how much her husband wanted them to go, and that 
 16
 
 242 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 they should come back directly he was well. "You 
 may only be away about a month after ail." Thus 
 reassured the children prepared for their journey, and 
 soon they were borne away from the happiest home 
 they had ever known, and their lot in future was to be 
 left to the tender mercies of a brutal master. 
 
 "Revenge at last," he muttered with an oath. 
 "They are mine." 
 
 Later a telegram -was sent to Bombay. It bore 
 one word : "Settled." 
 
 Cleo was standing talking to Castelli when it 
 reached her. 
 
 She knew the meaning too well, but she told 
 Castelli it came from her English agent, and he 
 believed her then. 
 
 A week later Charles Le Sale died, after making 
 his wife promise that his children should, not follow 
 his profession. This she gladly acceded to, and 
 then she was left to struggle on as she could. 
 
 Once, now and then, she grew anxious about 
 Vanda and Adrian, and thought she would write to 
 Castelli and tell him who had taken them from her 
 husband ; but one thing after another delayed her 
 kindly intention, and it was a very long time before 
 Castelli knew his children's fate. 
 
 Alas ! for them earthly happiness was over, and 
 joy was turned to mourning. 
 
 Is it not always so ? 
 
 Why should hell, the oft favourite theme of poets 
 and painters, be portrayed beyond the limits of this 
 visible universe ! Why should its terrors, its thun- 
 ders, its curling flames, its forked lightning, find 
 footing on speculation, and Fancy be used to depict 
 pain of soul and body, when hell is on the earth ? 
 Can it be necessary to go to unknown realms to find 
 a hell, where the future of the sinner is to be por- 
 tioned out according to the manifold sins committed? 
 For does it not exist around us in various sections 
 and forms, and are not Alecto, Megaera, and Tysi-
 
 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 243 
 
 phine, the supposed fiends of hell, around us in other 
 and natural forms, making our streets the veritable 
 paths of hell for the rake and the giglot, the mur- 
 derer and the thief ? Is it not the hell of earth which 
 drives women to the dark, cold river, and men to the 
 cursed drink, and daughters to the lair of the 
 destroyer? Is there not hell for the men, women, 
 and children in our slums, in the bitter poverty, the 
 cold and terrible sufferings of sickness and death ? Are 
 not the mysteries of hell at work when little children 
 are murdered, beaten and tortured by frenzied and 
 drunken men of the earth, or torn from loving hands 
 and hurled into the great chaos which makes up life, 
 so that their youth and beauty may pander to the 
 amusement of the morbid and the selfish ? For them, 
 as for others, hell is everywhere on earth. Its exist- 
 ence lies in the mental and physical agony which 
 must be the lot of all. 
 
 Surely there is no need to paint another hell, full 
 of mythical sorrows, with awful and everlasting 
 punishments and pain ! 
 
 There can be but one hell, and that has its abode 
 on earth, casting amongst the people terrible vices, 
 the scourge of sickness, the agonies of death, the 
 cruelties of separation, the hardships of poverty, 
 broken hearts, discarded love, disappointed hopes, 
 and ruined lives. 
 
 If these comprise not hell, what does ? 
 
 Vanda and Adrian soon realised the horrors of 
 what was before them, and Horrox made no secret 
 of his brutality. 
 
 The first night he made Vanda turn out her box, 
 and then was discovered Adrian's drawings, in a 
 small packet. 
 
 " What's that? " demanded Horrox fiercely. 
 
 " Adrian's sketches," replied the child timidly. 
 
 " Give them to me." 
 
 Vanda hesitated for a moment. 
 
 " Do you hear me ? " he thundered.
 
 244 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 She handed him the treasures, so dear to her heart, 
 without speaking-. 
 
 He unwrapped them, and the paper fell to the 
 ground, and then he quietly proceeded to tear them 
 across. 
 
 " Don't please don't do that, they belong to 
 Adrian don't tear them," she pleaded, quivering 
 with excitement. 
 
 "They belong to me now," he replied with an 
 awful oath, "and you'll both have something else 
 to think of now than a lot of damned daubs, and 
 so here goes," and he ruthlessly tore the rest 
 asunder. 
 
 Vanda burst into tears ; she was speechless with 
 fear and astonishment. 
 
 " Now, if I ever catch your brother daubing here 
 I'll thrash him until he can't stand, or you it doesn't 
 matter a curse to me which it is and give me that 
 paint-box and those books," said Horrox, looking 
 down into the box. 
 
 Vanda did as she was told, and then she ventured 
 to plead for her brother. 
 
 " Adrian is so fond of painting. Le Sale said he 
 would make an artist some day. Surely he may paint 
 when his work is over." 
 
 Horrox did not reply, excepting by an oath, and 
 giving Vanda a heavy blow. 
 
 She reeled for a moment and then fell to the ground. 
 She had fainted. 
 
 Nothing daunted, Horrox stood by until she had 
 recovered consciousness, and then he said, 
 
 " I shall paint you black and blue if you give me 
 any of your cheek get off to bed." 
 
 Vanda and Adrian shared one room, and very 
 miserable it was after the clean apartment allotted 
 to them at the Le Sale's ; but they were too miserable 
 to care much, and it was the small hours of the 
 morning before they cried themselves to sleep. 
 
 Horrox had a permanent home near Selchester,
 
 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 245 
 
 and in an outhouse at the back he conducted all his 
 training. It was there that his hapless apprentices 
 had to go through their bending, splits, flip-flaps, and 
 other feats enough to cause injury and strains to the 
 strongest children, for terrible is the nervous tension 
 necessary to perform them accurately and gracefully. 
 Locked in this building, the absolute property of the 
 master, what outside help could reach his unfortunate 
 victims? Safe from public inspection, safe from the 
 intrusion of any, the training goes on to this day 
 without let or hindrance. 
 
 The secrets of the Inquisition were never more 
 carefully guarded than are the practice hours of 
 children preparing tor the "show" business, where 
 they work continually until they are sufficiently 
 advanced for public exhibition. 
 
 To this room Vanda and Adrian were taken the 
 day after their arrival, and Horrox began his brutal 
 " instructions" for the contortion business, the most 
 painful and degrading avocation of all, the training 
 for which makes modesty die for ever. 
 
 Oh ! the labour and pain of these feats, which the 
 public applaud, cost the weary little children and the 
 languid growing girl, whose tender frame has to 
 assume positions which are absolutely contrary to 
 those for which nature has fitted her. 
 
 It is time that those who enjoy such performances 
 should realise this, and understand what has been 
 endured for their selfish edification. 
 
 But the multitude have taken no counsel as yet, 
 and the wisdom which would prevent young children 
 from performing such hazardous feats is still want- 
 ing ; it will be found some day, and then the dark 
 shadows will pass from girlish hearts, and child 
 labour for the amusement of the people will cease 
 for ever. 
 
 But the time is not yet
 
 246 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 BEHIND THE SCENES. 
 
 So strong was the spirit of revenge implanted in 
 Horrox that he was ready to inflict any punishment 
 on the children to exact satisfaction, under a sense 
 of injury which he felt sure their mother had been 
 the means of doing him. His anxiety to return evil 
 for evil had grown with years, and now his oppor- 
 tunity had come to wreak vengeance upon Vanda 
 and Adrian. In his malignant spirit he forgot that 
 kindness might make them "score big," and that 
 they might prove a gold mine to him, for both were 
 gifted with refined beauty, but for the first time in his 
 life he did not care whether his apprentices survived 
 their severe training or not. 
 
 Revenge, for once, was sweeter than great gain. 
 
 Is it not true, as has often been remarked, that 
 Providence seems to darken the understanding and 
 to depress the spirits of criminals, and hence the 
 origin of misery and depravity ? And was not 
 Horrox's a hideous crime, which deserved the great- 
 est punishment that earthly judges can inflict ? 
 Should they not say with Cicero, " perish that power 
 which has been obtained by evil means, retained by 
 similar practices, and which is administered as badly 
 as it was acquired ?" 
 
 But the law does not help weak children when 
 training for the people's amusement, because it. 
 cannot penetrate into the haunts where the children 
 undergo their suffering. The masters take care of 
 that, and smile in secret at the protection which their 
 hapless apprentices could rightfully claim.
 
 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 247 
 
 Who is there to hear the stifled sobs of suffering ? 
 Who can catch the plaintive voices crying for mercy, 
 and pleading vainly to the taskmaster? Who can 
 save the children from the cuts of the thin white 
 thong. 
 
 As yet, no one. For alone and in secret the deeds 
 are done, so that the people may rejoice and pass 
 pleasant hours in watching dangerous and degrading 
 feats ; from which they would guard their own pre- 
 cious, petted offspring, who cry because they have 
 every selfish whim gratified, and fret because they 
 cannot think of some further luxury. 
 
 True there is a law for the protection of children 
 in the slums and alleys, in the baby farm, iiv 
 orphanages and public schools true a licence 
 must be forthcoming before a child can perform in 
 a play. 
 
 But where is the law which protects the children 
 during the months of training which is conducted in 
 private ? Surely a public performance is nothing 
 compared to the hardships of training? Yet there is 
 protection for one, but not for the other. The law 
 offers its aid when the evil has been accomplished. 
 
 But there is One above, says the Christian, who 
 guards little children from harm? 
 
 In luxurious homes, yes. 
 
 But why is mercy meted out to some and not to 
 all ! Why should shame and labour fall with mer- 
 ciless hands upon two sinless children ? And why 
 does it not come to the lot of those who to this day 
 make pleasure for the people ? 
 
 Is it fair that some children should labour and 
 suffer that others may sit and enjoy ? 
 
 The weary ones could cry with Codrus, who had 
 served God all his life, when he found his beautiful 
 library at the Palace in Forli razed to the ground, 
 with all his valuable treasures, his speeches, letters, 
 and poems gone to ashes: "Christ Jesus, what 
 mighty crime have I committed ? Whom of your
 
 2 4 8 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 followers have I ever injured that you thus rage with 
 inexpiable hatred against me?" 
 
 From the sawdust that expression of pain and 
 distress should rise, for have not the children the 
 right to ask where is the God which Codrus served ? 
 And are the joys of heaven, His mercy, and infinite 
 power reserved only for those who are rich in this 
 word? 
 
 What reply can these placid Christians give to the 
 overworked, wan, sickly girls who pander to their 
 amusements ? The Church of God is largely repre- 
 sented at all circus performances. 
 
 But those who have a knowledge of spiritual 
 things are discreet, and silence reigns where the 
 voices should rise with one accord, crying : "God is 
 everywhere. His love shall shield you, His strong 
 arm shall protect you, His peace must rest upon you 
 now and for ever." 
 
 But instead there is an awkward pause a cessa- 
 tion of voices, for they dare not give that answer to 
 the "slaves of the sawdust." Alas, alas! though 
 such is truth as taught to the rich, does not the 
 existence of the evil prove the fallacy of the teaching ? 
 
 There is very little mercy shown to-day in the 
 methods pursued by some of the masters behind the 
 scenes, and Vanda and Adrian received none. 
 
 Friendless and alone, in the hands of a brute who 
 would disgrace any respectable circus, the children 
 underwent the greatest pain and degradation. Attired 
 in tight-fitting "fleshings" only, Vanda and Adrian 
 were made to practice all the indignities necessary 
 for those who become contortionists. Their limbs 
 had to be made supple by the most cruel and artifi- 
 cial means, and to these measures Horrox for spite 
 was delighted to resort. 
 
 One morning, when he had forced Vanda into a 
 most unnatural position, she fainted away from the 
 effect of the intense torture it caused her. 
 
 She lay on the hard floor deathly white, and only
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 249 
 
 the slight heaving of her chest showed she still 
 breathed. 
 
 Horrox took no notice of her. He knew perfectly 
 well that her age made it more painful for her to 
 undergo the straining of limbs and back than if she 
 had been younger and therefore more pliable. At 
 the same time he was aware that suppleness and 
 grace for the trapeze could be acquired no other way, 
 and therefore it must be done, even if the agony of 
 distorting her limbs made her suffer the greatest 
 possible pain that could be borne. He knew she 
 would faint every time he put her through the 
 "splits," but it did not disconcert him in the least, 
 and he turned his attention to the boy. 
 
 " Now then, you young rascal, it's your turn," he 
 cried fiercely. 
 
 " Look at Van da, she must be dead," said a weak 
 voice, whilst the tears coursed down his wan cheeks. 
 " Vanda, Vanda ! " he repeated ; " dear Vanda, do 
 speak to me ! ' he sobbed. 
 
 A stinging cut came from the white thong, causing 
 him intolerable pain. 
 
 " There ! take that for your answer," he said with 
 an awful oath : " and now to your work quick, or 
 you'll get another stroke." 
 
 Adrian recommenced his performance of walking 
 on his hands and feet with his body bent backwards, 
 the pain of the horrible distortion making great beads 
 of perspiration break out on his forehead, saturating 
 the curly locks which had been so dear to his mother's 
 heart. 
 
 " Oh ! you've come to your senses again, have 
 you, you confounded fool ! Now, we'll go at it 
 again," he said cruelly, utterly regardless of the girl's 
 white face. He took hold of her roughly ; she was 
 cold, and trembled very much. But Horrox took no 
 notice beyond remarking that " he would give her 
 something to make her hot if she didn't leave off." 
 
 " I cannot do the ' splits ' again to-day," she
 
 250 
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 said with anguish in her voice ; " the pain is terrible."* 
 
 " Oh, won't you come? Well, here goes, "and he 
 placed her in position, extending her legs sideways 
 until she was sitting on the flodr. He then put a 
 powerful hand on each shoulder, and kept her firmly 
 to the ground, regardless of her cries to him to let 
 her move, if but " for one moment." 
 
 But he was relentless, until her head fell forwards 
 on her chest ; she had fainted again. 
 
 " You cursed fool ! " he hissed, " I will break 
 every bone in your body if you don't leave off this 
 game." 
 
 But Vanda never heard his threat, or the volley of 
 oaths which fell from his lips. She only moaned 
 feebly once or twice, when Horrox roughly put her 
 into her natural shape again. Adrian meanwhile 
 stood petrified at his sister's condition, but not daring 
 to speak one word on her behalf. 
 
 Vanda continued so long in her faint that Horrox 
 at last became alarmed, and he hurried from the 
 room to fetch a glass of water. The very moment 
 he was gone Adrian rushed to where his sister lay 
 motionless, and throwing himself down in a par- 
 oxysm of grief, he cried, 
 
 " Vanda, Vanda, dear, dear Vanda, do look at 
 me ! Open your eyes, Vanda ! Don't you know I 
 am Adrian ? Do, do speak to me ! " he pleaded, and 
 the child's hot tears fell on the pink cotton fleshings, 
 leaving great spots here and there. 
 
 But Vanda neither moved nor spoke, her lips 
 uttered no words of love to her distressed brother. 
 
 With a grasp of despair he flung his arms around 
 
 * However kind the master, the pain suffered by those girls un- 
 dergoing training for the contortionist's business is simply torture, 
 and a disgrace to Christian England. The "boneless" man or 
 woman has had to suffer hell upon earth before the wrenching of 
 the muscles is complete and they are fitted to accomplish their de- 
 grading feats. "Splits" for women should be prohibited by law 
 from exhibition in public amusements.
 
 SLA VES OF THE SA WD UST. j 5 1 
 
 her, and shook her gently, but still she showed no 
 signs of returning consciousness, and when Horrox 
 returned he found Adrian sobbing loudly and bending 
 over his sister, distraught with grief. 
 
 " Get up, you howling fool ! " said Horrox, grasp- 
 ing the child and flinging him away from the prostrate 
 form, uttering a fearful oath as he did so. 
 
 With no gentle hand he poured the cool water 
 down Vanda's throat, and at last she opened her eyes 
 and a faint colour returned to the haggard cheeks. 
 
 For a moment she forgot where she was, and she 
 just murmured, 
 
 " I thought it was Adrian standing by me." 
 
 " Then, you see, it's me, so just get up," he said 
 roughly. She rose with an effort, and he placed her 
 in a chair. " Sit there till I am ready for you." 
 
 The child obeyed, too ill and weary to be afraid 
 of what was to come, and then Horrox went up to 
 Adrian and demanded fiercely, 
 
 " What were you blubbering about just now, mak- 
 ing a fool of yourself eh, answer me? Do you 
 hear me ? " he roared as the child ventured no reply. 
 
 " I was so sorry for Vanda, sir ; she will die here, 
 I am sure, "and he sobbed again. 
 
 "Sorry, were you, now I'll make you sorry for 
 yourself." 
 
 And he took the boy by the arm and dragged him 
 to the table where the white-thonged whip lay, and 
 then he applied it mercilessly about the child's body, 
 until the youthful crimson blood came through the 
 " fleshings," leaving hideous marks on the pale pink 
 covering. Vanda closed her eyes. She could not 
 bear the sickening sight. His suppressed moans of 
 pain struck a chill to her heart. She did not want 
 to see the blows descend.* 
 
 " There, now," said Horrox in a satisfied tone, 
 laying down the whip, " that's what you get for 
 
 * The incident of the beating until the blood came is no highly 
 coloured imagination, but a positive fact.
 
 252 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 interfering and whining like a puppy, as you are," 
 he said with contempt. 
 
 The child sobbed, he was too weak to speak. 
 
 " Now, then, both of you, com'e along," called 
 Horrox, walking towards the bars, and then Vanda 
 dared to protest. 
 
 " My hands are too sore for that to-day," she re- 
 plied gently, looking down at the large wounds across 
 the palms, caused by the broken blisters which had 
 weeks before been raised by the friction of the 
 powdered resin on her hands and on the bars. These 
 sores take weeks and weeks to heal ; but Vanda 
 suffered no worse than the rest in her initiate. 
 
 " You must jolly well get used to that," replied 
 Horrox. " No nonsense, begin at once." 
 
 Delay and protestations were alike unavailing, and 
 the children began their practice. Very soon the 
 bar bore traces of blood. Van da's sores had been 
 broken again ; but Horrox took no heed of the in- 
 cident, and he relieved her no sooner from her 
 arduous task.* 
 
 And so the long days dragged on, the night came, 
 but the children dreading the dawn, because another 
 awful day must be lived through. One morning, 
 during the hurried breakfast hour, Vanda ventured 
 to ask Horrox when they were likely to return to 
 their old master Le Sale. The hope of that had kept 
 up their spirits during many a saddened day. 
 
 " He's dead weeks ago," replied Horrox with a 
 smile. " You belong to me now, my lady," he said 
 with a sneer. 
 
 Vanda turned very white ; she gave Adrian one 
 hopeless look of despair, which Horrox noticed at 
 once. 
 
 " Ah, I don't spoil you like Le Sale did, do I? "he 
 asked meaningly. 
 
 * A celebrated lady gymnast has told the author that the bars of 
 the trapeze have blood stains upon them, until the hands of the 
 young performers are hardened.
 
 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 
 
 253 
 
 " He was very kind to us," replied Vanda quietly, 
 
 " Made regular noodles of you both," said Horrox ; 
 " but we don't go in for that sort of cant here, do we ? " 
 
 Vanda gulped down a lump which had risen in 
 her throat and said, 
 
 " I should like to write to Mrs. Le Sale, if I may ?" 
 she pleaded. 
 
 " No, you may not, so there is an end to that," he 
 replied curtly. 
 
 Vanda said nothing, but she determined to write 
 a few lines, and trust to some chance of posting them. 
 She would not give the address for fear Mrs. Le Sale 
 had left the old home and the letter should be returned, 
 and then the fury of Horrox would fall upon her, and 
 some dreadful punishment would sure to be her lot 
 for disobedience to his orders. 
 
 Adrian and Vanda talked over plan after plan in 
 whispers when they went to bed. At last Vanda de- 
 termined to try if the dirty little " slavey " of their 
 lodgings would post her letter and hold her tongue, 
 but the difficulty was to find out whether she was 
 loyal or not 
 
 Sally had been taken from a London workhouse, 
 and had unfortunately fallen into the hands of a hard, 
 selfish old woman who let her rooms to professionals. 
 Two years before she had come across Horrox, and 
 he had decided to make her house his headquarters, 
 so that she withdrew her advertisement in the papers 
 under the heading of " professional apartments," and 
 settled down, prepared to take her rent and mind her 
 own business, and she took good care that Sally 
 should do the same. 
 
 " You talk to my lodgers, and I'll take the skin off 
 your back." 
 
 This suited Horrox:, for there was no chance of 
 his apprentices finding sympathy from landlady or 
 drudge. 
 
 But Sally Pike had a heart ; the workhouse schools 
 had not quite robbed her of that, and although she
 
 254 
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 was only known as one hundred and two, and sent 
 out into the streets with the uniform which stamps 
 children as homeless and poverty-stricken, she re- 
 tained an affectionate disposition if anyone cared to 
 win her love. 
 
 In the workhouse schools love lies dead. It in no 
 way enters the curriculum of the educational advan- 
 tages. It is not considered necessary for " pauper 
 children," yet Sally had loved in her heart one or 
 two of her companions, and when she went to service 
 she was anxious to love her mistress ; but, to her 
 bitter vexation, Mrs. Jane Carter resented what she 
 called familiarities, and Sally soon became the slave 
 of a harsh woman. From early morning 1 until late 
 at night she toiled, receiving" no thanks, and bearing 
 constant complaints with stoical indifference. Once 
 or twice she had smiled at Vanda and said a kind 
 word to her, but the chance came very seldom. 
 One day, however, Vanda caught sight of Sally com- 
 ing upstairs, and putting up her finger, she beckoned 
 to her, whilst she placed a finger of the other hand 
 on her lips to let Sally understand she must be 
 silent. 
 
 Sally put down her brush quietly, and stole noise- 
 lessly to where Vanda stood, her poor thin shoes be- 
 ing excellent for that purpose. A slatternly figure 
 she looked standing by the unique beauty of Vanda, 
 with her erect figure and refined bearing. Sally's 
 hair was red, and hung about her face in rough 
 clusters, whilst the rest was gathered together and 
 tied with a piece of black tape at the back of her head ; 
 her apron was ragged and dirty, and her old black 
 dress was pinned over to make it fit, for it had been 
 made for her stout mistress, and had undergone no 
 alteration. To shorten the length, it was tucked 
 under the band, making the child look like a dancing 
 dervish. Her sleeves were tucked up to her elbows, 
 leaving her red and begrimed arms quite bare ; her 
 hands were raw looking, with cuts and unhealed
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 255 
 
 chilblains, and were greasy and black from washing 
 the household saucepans. When Vanda beckoned 
 her, the girl had put up her hand to tidy her hair, 
 leaving as she did so a smudge on her freckled, un- 
 cleansed face. 
 
 "Where is Horrox?" asked Vanda cautiously. 
 
 " A-quarreling along of the mistress," said the girl 
 in a whisper, a smile coming over her woe-begone 
 face. 
 
 "Where is he?" said Vanda hurriedly. 
 
 "In missis' best parlour. He says as how we's 
 took the tea for 'our own use, and he ain't going to 
 buy two pounds a week for we to use it. Missis 
 often do borrower his tea ; she calls it borrower, but 
 she don't ever put it back. It's like the brandy she 
 nips up a drop of his now and agin, when you's all 
 out ; and we often has a shovel or two of the coals 
 sint up to you, but she charges for a scuttle all the 
 same ; and she puts one egg into the pudding and 
 charges Mister Horrox for two. ' Perks' she calls 
 them, but I guess it's stealing, ain't it ? " and she 
 grinned all over her face, as if it was some satisfac- 
 tion to tell of her mistress's misdeeds. 
 
 "Never mind all that," whispered Vanda ; "come 
 into my room, I want you. Horrox may be here 
 directly." 
 
 "No, he won't When he hollers at mistress he's 
 a good time coming round, and she'll 'ave to take 
 somethink off the bill. A real rumpus takes a good 
 time to settle. Missis won't, Mister Horrox won't, 
 and that's how they gits to a rigular row." 
 
 She followed Vanda, and when the door was closed 
 she waited for her to speak. 
 
 "Sally, I want you to do me a very great favour, 
 and not to tell anyone. Mind, not a soul is to know ; 
 it's quite a secret between you and me." 
 
 Sally nodded her shaggy, unkept head, and whis- 
 pered mysteriously, 
 
 "Is it anything to do with a young man, miss ? "
 
 2 5 6 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 
 
 Vanda gave a sad smile and replied, 
 
 " No, Sally, I had a very dear friend once, and since 
 I came here I must not write to her. Her husband 
 is dead now, and she has no one to love her. It 
 would make her happy to have this letter. Will you 
 post it for me ? " said Vanda, holding the precious 
 missive in her hands. 
 
 "Yes, sure I will ; but s'pose the hanswer comes 
 back, they'll want to know who posted it, and then I 
 shall git it pretty 'ot," said the girl in a frightened 
 voice. 
 
 "I have given no address; it's only to let her 
 know I am alive." 
 
 "Was you ever so fond of 'er, miss ? " asked Sally 
 sadly. 
 
 "Yes, yes; she was a mother to me," responded 
 Vanda wearily. 
 
 "Give it us," said Sally. " I'll post 'im, and hold 
 my tongue. I'm blowed if I'll split." 
 
 She took the letter and put it down the neck of her 
 dress, and shook herself once or twice until it slipped 
 between her underlinen and her unwashed skin. 
 
 "There, 'e'll rest there, safe as a gun, until I gits 
 out, and then I'll post it in the first piller I gets to," 
 said Sally, satisfied. 
 
 "But when will that be? "asked Vanda, anxious 
 that her letter should not be delayed or be left to fall 
 into other hands. 
 
 "Well, missis 'ad some 'errins in this morning, 
 and she said as 'o\v I had to go and change 'em 
 they smells orful, and we give three harf-pence for 
 two of 'em they's for dinner, so missus must send 
 me soon, and then I'll go in the scullery and wrop 
 them up and betwixt the two your letter 'ull set 
 nicely. None of them 'ull guess that a letter is in 
 with the 'errins, and I'll take it out afore I gets to 
 the fish shop," said Sally, with a chuckle. 
 
 " And you will tell no one, Sally ? " 
 
 " No fears of that. I writ to the baker's boy once,
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 257 
 
 and missis don't know to this day, that she don't 
 Sally Pike ain't a fool." 
 
 "I have nothing 1 to give you, Sally, for your trouble 
 I wish I had I haven't another penny left. The 
 stamped envelope I had by me ; Mrs. Le Sale put it 
 in for me to write to say we got to Manchester safely, 
 but I could not manage to post it before." 
 
 "You can give one thing, miss, if you will," said 
 Sally shyly, "it don't cost anything, not even a 
 penny." 
 
 "What is it, Sally?" 
 
 "A kiss, miss, just one kiss. I'm awfully lonely 
 at times, and I often wishes there was some one to 
 give me a good hearty smack. I ain't 'ad a kiss since 
 I came here, and that's nigh on two years. I'd like 
 to 'ave one just to see 'ow it feels," she added, with 
 pathos. 
 
 Vanda looked at the dirty face before her, and for 
 a moment she shrank from the task. 
 
 The girl saw the look, and read the truth in a mo- 
 ment. Taking up her apron, she passed it across her 
 mouth once or twice, saying, 
 
 "There, it's quite clean now, Miss Vander." 
 
 Vanda was ashamed of having hesitated, and she 
 kissed the girl two or three times passionately, as 
 if glad herself to have found a friend in the squalid 
 little slavey. 
 
 "That's real like 'eaven," said the girl. "Now, I 
 don't care if I don't git another kiss till I'm married, 
 that I don't." 
 
 Vanda smiled and replied, 
 
 " I will always kiss you when I can, but you won't 
 mind if I ask you to go now, will you ? I am afraid 
 we may be caught." 
 
 "Ton my soul, I'll go, and now " But before 
 
 she had finished speaking heavy footsteps were heard 
 coming up the staircase. 
 
 "That's 'im," said Sally, and Vanda turned deadly 
 white with anxiety. 
 
 17
 
 258 SLA VES OF THE SA WD UST. 
 
 " Do go, Sally, go ; do go at once," she urged. But 
 Sally whisked off her apron and made for the window, 
 which she began to clean with vigour. At this mo- 
 ment Horrox opened the door in search of Vanda. 
 
 He looked at her, and then at the servant, but he 
 could read nothing in their faces to lead him to sup- 
 pose that they spoken to each other. Vanda looked 
 as depressed as ever, and Sally seemed absorbed in 
 her work ; apparently they appeared innocent of each 
 other's presence. 
 
 "Come into the sitting-room. What right have 
 you to be in the bed-room? Get out at once," said 
 Horrox, angrily, pushing her as he spoke, " and 
 come to your work, both of you, quick." 
 
 Even Horrox's love of revenge was satisfied as he 
 watched them droop day by day, pitiable wrecks of 
 their former beauty. 
 
 But help was at hand, the days of their suffering 
 were drawing to a close. Many other children's 
 days of labour would be ended if selfish sightseers 
 would only say they should be. 
 
 But they will not. 
 
 Yet these people writhe in holy horror and indig- 
 nation at the mention of a Spanish bull-fight, and 
 protest loudly against the iniquitous cruelty. Noth- 
 ing would persuade these fastidious, highly cultured 
 ladies to witness a scene likely to upset their delicate 
 nerves. " They really couldn't." 
 
 But they enjoy seeing young girls perform at per- 
 ilous heights, there can be no harm'\\\ that; but bull- 
 fights are so cruel. 
 
 Why? Where is the difference ? Where does the 
 definition of cruelty commence? where is the limit? 
 These people reply with one accord, the bull may 
 kill horse and rider, its own gore will run in a crim- 
 son stream in the ring where it stands to be goaded 
 to despair and frenzy, this they must see ; but the 
 gymnast has bled in secret, and been goaded to pass 
 through perils often beyond her physical endurance,
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 259 
 
 but as this does not occur in public, so the previous 
 torture is nothing to these sentimental beings, who 
 detest cruelty when it interferes with their personal 
 comfort. They do not even insist upon what that 
 enlightened emperor Marcus Aurelius commanded, 
 that persons performing on tight-ropes, and other- 
 wise, at daring heights should be protected by a net 
 underneath. 
 
 But he was humane. 
 
 They are not.
 
 2 6o SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 ON THE TRAIL. 
 
 " I AM tired of wandering, Whanks. I think I shall 
 go back to the old country and see who are living 
 and who are gone for ever. There may be some 
 mistake about Leila being dead ; reports are never 
 very trustworthy, and if she is dead, poor thing, there 
 are the children to see to ; it is the least I can do for 
 her. " 
 
 "I'm afraid it's too true, sir. Ringens is the only 
 one I have written to from here, and he sent out 
 every particular of her death. It was a comfort to 
 think your father was with her. I'm sure, sir, it 
 was best that we heard of both their deaths through 
 his letters, or maybe going to the old country would 
 have been a chapter of disappointments. We know 
 the worst, and that's something to be grateful for," 
 said Whanks with gratitude. 
 
 "But there's always hope, Whanks, that some 
 mistake has arisen, and then, as I said before, there 
 are the children." 
 
 "Yes, and there's the cuss of their father to deal 
 with. I reckon they are with him, and being made 
 useful by this time. Circus folk don't keep the chil- 
 dren at home with nothing to do you see, sir, it's 
 business to make every honest penny they can." 
 
 During Tom and Whanks' acquaintance very little 
 had been said of Leila or her married life. Before 
 Whanks had come across Tom he had received full 
 tidings of Leila's death and that of her father from 
 Ringens, who had from time to time written out to
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 261 
 
 the faithful servant such news as would be likely to 
 interest him. 
 
 ' ' I believe she died from a broken heart, " he wrote, 
 and Whanks repeated that over and over again, the 
 tears often coursing down his cheeks, and he would 
 cry with sorrow, 
 
 " I wish to God I had never left her to face it out, 
 poor thing ; but my aunt's money tempted me out, 
 and the drink would have ruined me at home. Oh, 
 Miss Leila ! Miss Leila ! '' 
 
 He tore up the letters which bore the sad news. 
 
 "Bad enough to have to think of it without hav- 
 ing it in writing, as if I was likely to forget her," he 
 said with bitterness ; and so when Tom asked to see 
 the letters Whanks had none to show him, and from 
 that time Tom refused to believe his sister and father 
 were dead. 
 
 " But surely the father won't mind their uncle see- 
 ing them. There's no mystery, i suppose, is there ? " 
 he asked impatientl} r , 
 
 "A gooclish deal, I expect, sir, a goodish deal," 
 he repeated mechanically. 
 
 "Don't you believe my sister was married to this 
 infernal rider, or ring-master, or whatever he is? If 
 she was, where can the mystery be ? " said Tom 
 with rising anger. 
 
 "I told you, Mr. Tom, that I saw Leila Gurney 
 made Castelli's lawful wife. If going to church and 
 swearing to do this, that and t'other makes man and 
 wife, then your sister was married tight enough. 
 I've said many times, sir, that I was one of the wit- 
 nesses at the ceremony, and if you think I wasn't, 
 well, you must," said Whanks in an injured voice. 
 
 " I don't doubt you, Whanks, but when you talk 
 of mysteries, and the children as if there was a doubt 
 of my getting at them, I don't know what to think," 
 he replied doubtfully. 
 
 "Not evil of my Miss Leila, any way, "said Whanks, 
 waxing hot, "and the mystery is soon put right.
 
 262 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 When Miss Leila died, God bless her ! the little ones 
 would be left on Castelli's hands, and I bet he 
 wouldn't be bothered with them, and very likely 
 he has parted with them to some man for good and 
 all." 
 
 "Done what?" said Tom in astonishment. 
 
 " Given them over to someone to train for the ring 
 or the trapeze ; that's quite common amongst our set, " 
 replied Whanks coolly. 
 
 "Well, if he has parted with them, I suppose they 
 are to be found," said Tom with determination. 
 
 Whanks shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 "Ah, sir, you don't know as much as I do about 
 the ' profession. ' No convent ever kept young women 
 as close as the artiste does his apprentices. There 
 isn't much chance of the outside world seeing what 
 goes on, I can tell you, and ten to one Vanda and 
 Adrian are kept hard at work, and never allowed 
 out of their trainer's sight, that's the rule." 
 
 "All the more reason why we should go to Eng- 
 land at once. Should you have any idea where to 
 begin to search for them, Whanks?" asked Tom with 
 anxiety. 
 
 "To a T. I bet I could lay my hands upon them 
 in a week, provided they were in England. I know 
 one or two who could put me up to the dodge at 
 once. If they are to be found, I'm the man," replied 
 Whanks with confidence. 
 
 "Then I hope you will agree to come along back 
 to the old country, and I propose we start as soon 
 as possible with the mail bags, for although not too 
 comfortable, I am fidgeting to get on, for in my pres- 
 ent state of mind 'trecking' would simply drive me 
 mad." 
 
 "All right ! I shall be just as glad to see her chil- 
 dren as you can be, God bless them ! " 
 
 A few days later found them well on their way 
 perhaps as comfortless a journey as could be taken 
 in any part of the world, for when Tom and Whanks
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 263 
 
 tried it, there was no accommodation for passen- 
 gers with the mails. They had to do the best they 
 could, and sit or lie about upon the bag's, irrespective 
 of hard, angular parcels which were being borne to 
 friends far away. At various posts the horses and 
 drivers were changed, but the miserable passengers 
 were never changed no such luck befel them, rest 
 there was none, and the only sleep they could ob- 
 tain was short, and taken alternately, when one 
 would watch that the sleeping comrade did not fall 
 into the road, as the callous drivers on passing a 
 piece of rough road would suddenly whip up the 
 team of horses with their long rhympie whips. To 
 suit themselves, the drivers could often be most tan- 
 talisingly slow, which maddened Tom almost to 
 frenzy, but like their confreres at home they had the 
 happy habit of coming up to the post-station as 
 though the whole journey had been conducted at 
 the rate of twenty miles an hour. 
 
 Everything pleasant, everything miserable has an 
 end, either on the earth or in the grave even such 
 a journey as Tom and Whanks had experienced 
 and both were glad to find themselves on board one 
 of the Donald Currie steamers, where Whanks in par- 
 ticular appreciated the luxury of the saloon after the 
 years of roughing it in different circuses and in a 
 strange land. 
 
 He was a rich man now, and riches, not birth, bring 
 comfort. 
 
 During the voyage home Tom had made up his 
 mind to know more of Leila's domestic life, and of 
 the life she had lived amongst the circus folk. Like 
 most people he had no idea of the "behind the 
 scenes," and there was much he wished to be made 
 acquainted with. Sitting on the deck one day with 
 Whanks, he broached the subject. 
 
 " Whanks ! " 
 
 "Yes, sir." Whanks had always adopted a tone 
 of respect towards Tom, and once when Tom had
 
 264 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 told him that they were friends, and not master and 
 servant, Whanks had replied, 
 
 "But you are Miss Leila's brother, and that's 
 enough for me," and he never omitted the "sir" 
 when addressing him. 
 
 "Tell me candidly, was Leila happy with her hus- 
 band ? Don't hide the truth. I wish to know ex- 
 actly how she lived. She was my only sister." 
 
 Whanks hesitated. He did not like to tell Tom 
 how the beautiful girl had grown daily more white 
 and thin ; he was almost afraid to repeat the words 
 of anguish which burst from her lips one morning at 
 the circus, when she thought no one was near : " My 
 God, spare me more misery ; I cannot bear it" 
 
 Tom noticed his reluctance, and continued, 
 
 "Are you afraid to tell me of all my sister suf- 
 fered? Have I not the right to know?" he added 
 sadly. 
 
 "You have the right, sir, I can't deny that; but 
 she's gone now, poor thing, and what's the use of 
 making your life miserable as well as hers ? " 
 
 "Then she was miserable?" said Tom; "you 
 have acknowledged as much." 
 
 Whanks noided, and then added, 
 
 " She was, so there's no use to make out other- 
 wise. She was gentle, good, and kind ; he was 
 brutal, perfectly brutal, and didn't understand her. 
 I've heard him use the most filthy language to her. 
 At last she grew quite afraid of him, and a coldness 
 seemed to spring up between them. The fact was, 
 he soon tired of his lady wife the pig and the dove 
 can't mate together ; you may try it, but I reckon 
 the pig is a pig to the last, and never learns the coo 
 of the dove. And so it was with Castelli. He 
 couldn't learn Miss Leila's sweet ways. When she 
 cooed, he grunted, and so matters grew worse. She 
 never said much to me, but I twigged a good deal, 
 and I watched her pretty closely ; but I think the 
 worst trouble of all was that her husband took a good
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 265 
 
 deal of notice of a woman, Cleo by name, whom he 
 saw a good deal of a regular bad one, ! can tell you, 
 who did her best to get my master. to take on with 
 her. Ah, she was a bad one," he repeated. 
 
 "And did Castelli do anything so vile as to pay 
 attentions to this Cleo woman and to forget my sis- 
 ter ? Poor Leila ! what degradation she must have 
 endured," said Tom with sorrow in his voice. 
 
 Whanks smiled sadly. 
 
 "Ah, Mr. Tom, "he didn't forget Miss Leila, and 
 neither did he forget Cleo. He was proud of his 
 wife, but he played fast and loose with the other, 
 and then they quarrelled, and when Miss Vanda was 
 born he steadied up a bit, and then all of a sudden 
 he put her in the 'ring/ and became master instead 
 of husband, and after that he treated her like an ap- 
 prentice, instead of a wife. In my humble opinion, 
 sir, she is best dead, and it would please her much 
 better, if she could but know it, if we looked after the 
 children. Bless her, she loved them madly. It's 
 best to seek the living and leave the dead to rest, sir. 
 I am'afraid Vanda and her brother may have fallen into 
 cruel hands. It's odds he's married Cleo, and the 
 children may be suffering terribly now with some 
 harsh master. The right thing is to find the little 
 ones," said Whanks. 
 
 " But surely they may have fallen into kind hands ? 
 Are all the masters cruel ? " asked Tom, almost too 
 pained to speak. 
 
 "Some are pretty hard when the training is on," 
 said Whanks. "I never knew but one kind trainer, 
 and he was kind if you like. His name was Le 
 Sale. I don't know what became of him, but he 
 had a heart like a child, tender as a new potato. I 
 remember Castelli used to laugh at him and call him 
 a fool, but he was the best of the bunch for all that. 
 I never saw a better, kinder man to beast or appren- 
 tice ; but it is not likely the children are with him. 
 I don't feel verv comfortable about them. But for
 
 266 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 Miss Leila's sake I shall ferret out what their father 
 has done with them." 
 
 "You seem pretty sure their father has parted 
 with them," said Tom with some indignation. 
 
 "Sure as the sun shines. I know my customer, 
 and time will prove which way the land lies," replied 
 Whanks quietly. 
 
 After that day the conversation was never renewed 
 until they landed on English .shores, and then 
 Whanks suggested they should go to London direct. 
 
 " It's no use dangling about in the provinces. If 
 we stop in London we shall get on the right scent at 
 once, and save ourselves no end of bother." 
 
 And so Tom acquiesced in the arrangements. 
 
 Both men felt strange and lonely when they arrived 
 in London. There were no happy faces to greet 
 them, no one to bid them welcome, no hospitable 
 board waiting for them to partake of the feast, with 
 friends and neighbours smiling upon them and bid- 
 ding them to eat, drink, and be merry. There were 
 no such things for the weary travellers, so they drove 
 to a hotel and put in their lot with strangers. 
 
 How many like Tom and Whanks return after 
 long years to the old country to find no smiles of 
 love to greet them, no outstretched hand ready to 
 press theirs? Yet how eagerly that long-desired 
 homecoming had been longed for, how impatiently 
 waited. The vision of the joy of seeing the old 
 home again is perfect. They forget time will have 
 wrought changes in people, places, and things ; that 
 the sunlights and the shades can never be quite the 
 same ; that the past has been lost in the current of 
 years. 
 
 Like the anxious man who left his home to gain 
 riches, and returned suddenly after ten years' ab- 
 sence, kissed his wife fondly, and then said : " Now, 
 where is baby?" "Here," cried a bright, girlish 
 voice, and the father beheld a tall, handsome child. 
 He had forgotten the lapse of years, and replied :
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 267 
 
 " When far away from you all I have always thought 
 of home as I saw it last, my bonnie w*ife holding up 
 ' baby ' to say good-bye, and now she has grey hair, 
 and baby is changed into a young lady." 
 
 How true it is that the mind carries with it to dis- 
 tant climes the last picture of home life upon which 
 the eyes have rested all else seems lost but the long 
 farewell. 
 
 But alas ! how many others have found the cot- 
 tage home shut up, the honeysuckle dead, the green, 
 sunny garden, where the roses bloomed and the pinks 
 and lupines grew in profusion, left to neglect and 
 decay. The path up to the little porch grass-grown, 
 the gate padlocked, for two more stones are in the 
 churchyard hard by. 
 
 The old folks rest there. 
 
 The day after Tom and Whanks' arrival in London 
 they commenced their search for Leila's children. 
 Whanks bought an Era newspaper. He ran his 
 eyes down the first page, but there was nothing to 
 his satisfaction. He turned to the back sheet but 
 one, and eagerly scanned the column headed " Circus 
 Artistes' Wants." At last he chuckled to himself, 
 "Ah, that's the game, is it? "and he read two or 
 three times over : 
 
 "Wanted known Emilio Castelli's performing 
 horses great success at Wyatt's Grand Circus, Bom- 
 bay." 
 
 "Wanted known Mdlle. Cleo, greatest success on 
 record Wyatt's Grand Circus, Bombay." 
 
 "Now, where are the children, that's the rub?" 
 he said aloud. " I guess they're not out in that lo- 
 cality. Let me see. Ringens might know, or Le 
 
 Sale or " But Whanks could think ofnooneelse. 
 
 He had grown rusty about circus matters. " I'll be 
 off at once and see some of the agents, and find out 
 what I can," he said in a loud whisper. 
 
 The first agent he called upon told him that Le Sale
 
 268 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 was dead, and that Ringens was at El Circo, Valencia, 
 Spain, and that his engagement was a long one. 
 That was all he could glean, and he began to fear 
 that he must return to the hotel without much news 
 for poor, anxious Tom. He sauntered about con- 
 sidering what would be the best means of finding 
 out Leila's children. Suddenly a woman dressed in 
 shabby black passed him. She was carrying a 
 bundle in her arms, and she seemed tired and weary. 
 She looked very hard at Whanks, as if trying to recall 
 to mind who he was. 
 
 Whanks noticed the look of inquiry and thought to 
 himself, 
 
 "That's some of the blessed crew. I know the 
 face, I believe." 
 
 He turned to look back at her. She was standing 
 watching him, and their eyes met. Then she ad- 
 vanced towards him and said, 
 
 "Excuse me, but I think you are Mr. Whanks, 
 as used to be ring groom with Castelli down at the 
 circus where my poor dear husband was was en- 
 gaged ? " 
 
 " Yes, I am Whanks right enough," he answered, 
 "but, 'pon my soul I don't know you." 
 
 "I'm Mrs. Le Sale. Poor Le Sale is dead, and I 
 have to get on as I can. Ah, there's been a lot of 
 changes since you left," she added with a sigh. 
 
 Whanks put out his hand and took hers, saying 
 heartily, 
 
 "I'm very glad to see you, Mrs. Le Sale, very, 
 and now suppose you come in somewhere and have 
 a bit of dinner." 
 
 Together they went, and Whanks was a very pa- 
 tient listener to all she had to tell ; but his interest 
 rose considerably when she told him that Castelli's 
 two children had been apprenticed to her late hus- 
 band. 
 
 ' ' Where are they ? Where are they now ? " asked 
 Whanks excitedly, jumping up in his eagerness.
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 269 
 
 " I don't know. I wish to God I did." 
 
 Whank's hopes fell like lead falls to the bottom of 
 the deepest well. 
 
 ' ' You don't know ? You must know, my good 
 woman, if they were in your house?" 
 
 Mrs. Le Sale told Whanks how things stood, and 
 that she had given them up in deference to her hus- 
 band's wishes, then she continued, 
 
 "A month ago I received a few lines from Van da. 
 She gave no address, so I guess it was posted on the 
 q. t., but the postmark was Selchester. The letter 
 broke my heart nearly, and yesterday I wrote out 
 to their father, for / don't believe things are 
 straight.'' 
 
 " So that villain Horrox has them, has he? Well, 
 it won't be long before they part, or my name isn't 
 Whanks. Selchester that's good enough for me. 
 Now, where do you live, in case I want you?" 
 
 "Over the tobacconist's in the Waterloo Road, 
 Clye is the name. You can't mistake it; and very 
 nice people they are." 
 
 "Well, here's something for the children, for the 
 sake of the old days," and Whanks slipped a five- 
 pound note into her hand. "Now, look here, Mrs. 
 Le Sale, you hold your blessed tongue over this busi- 
 ness and I'll make it worth your while. I may have 
 to bring the children up to you. If I do, don't breathe 
 one word who they are, or we sha'n't be able to get 
 them over the water. Do you see what I mean ? " 
 
 " He won't give them up, I'm sadly afraid," replied 
 Mrs. Le Sale. 
 
 "Then I shall break his head open, and there'll be 
 bloodshed. One of us must get the worst of it, and 
 I lay a quid he'll be the one. Now, good-bye for 
 the present, and wait further orders." 
 
 Mrs. Le Sale thanked Whanks heartily for his 
 generous gift, and then they parted. 
 
 Whanks scrambled into a cab, and called out to 
 the driver,
 
 270 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 "Tavistock Hotel, and hurry up that skinny old 
 horse. I'm in a deuced uncertainty about the trains, 
 so look sharp, cabby." 
 
 "Oh, yes, I daresay you'd like me to drive ! im 
 like a racehorse, and get locked hup by the society 
 for the prewention of cruelty to 'osses no fear." 
 
 "Here, just you start, and there will be an extra 
 bob for you at the end of the journey," said Whanks 
 cheerily. 
 
 With a grunt of satisfaction the cabman whipped 
 up his horse, and in due time he arrived at the Tavis- 
 tock Hotel. 
 
 Tom was sitting- reading in his bedroom when 
 Whanks blustered in in a state of great excitement, 
 calling out hurriedly, 
 
 "The children are in Selchester. Here, make 
 haste, and let us chuck the things in the portmanteau. 
 I'll do that if you'll go down and find out what time 
 the train goes." 
 
 " Thank God, we have found them," said Tom 
 gravely. 
 
 "Well, we just haven't yet," replied Whanks, 
 "but I am going to, so just be quick, sir, or we 
 shall lose the next train. I'm all of a tremble to be 
 off." 
 
 He opened the portmanteau with a wrench, and 
 pushed in sufficient things to last them both for some 
 days. Then he closed it with a bang, and waited 
 impatiently for Tom's reappearance. At last he came. 
 
 "There's a train at five-thirty," said Tom, "will 
 that suit you ? We've just an hour before we need 
 start, so let's get some food and pay the bill." 
 
 Whanks took no notice of this remark for a mo- 
 ment, and then he said, 
 
 "I wonder if Miss Vanda is like her poor mother ?" 
 
 "I hope so," said Tom; "it is nice to see the 
 picture of the dead in the living." 
 
 They were soon on their way, each hour bringing 
 them nearer to the children of the dead woman so 
 dear to them both.
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 271 
 
 Little did Vanda and Adrian dream that night that 
 friends were so close to them. 
 
 They slept after the work and torture of the day, 
 while Tom and Whanks spent hours in arranging 
 what were the best means to ensure success in their 
 undertaking. 
 
 When the sun came out over the great city, Vanda 
 and Adrian went to their work as the galley slaves 
 go, without hope. 
 
 But peace, joy, rest, and happiness were at hand. 
 
 The days of toil were nearly ended. 
 
 But thev did not know it
 
 272 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 PAID IX FULL. 
 
 WHANKS soon found his way to the circus, which was 
 then in Selchester, and going down early, when he 
 knew the rehearsals were on, he asked to see the 
 ring-master. 
 
 "Who wants to see me? I'm busy; tell the man 
 to come again." 
 
 "He told me to say, sir, that he was engaged 
 with Signor Castelli for years, and must see you," 
 said the groom. 
 
 " Does he want a situation ? If he does, say we 
 are full up, there is no vacancy," replied Daspar im- 
 patiently. 
 
 "He looks like a gent, sir; he's come in a cab, 
 and is dressed wonderful well. In fact I'm sure he 
 is a gentleman." The man was thinking of the tip 
 he had received as an inducement to venture to dis- 
 turb Signor Daspar at his duties as ring-master. 
 
 "Go and fetch him, and be quick about it," he 
 said to the man. 
 
 Whanks entered the ring, and a strange feeling 
 came over him. It seemed as if the old life had 
 come back again, and he half expected to see Cas- 
 telli and Miss Leila there waiting for him. Daspar 
 smiled when he saw his visitor and said, 
 
 " I'm hanged if it isn't Whanks. Well, who would 
 have guessed you would turn up? It seems like old 
 times again. Come out and have a drink with 
 me?" 
 
 "No, thanks, sir. When I came into my aunt's
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 273 
 
 money I vowed I'd never drink another of ' mild or 
 strong-,' and I never will, thanking- you all the same. 
 I came down here to ask you if you could tell me 
 where Horrox hangs out you know Horrox the 
 gymnast I want to see him particularly," said 
 Whanks nervously. 
 
 "He was here a few minutes ago. He is going 
 to bring- two children out in January, and they will 
 appear here. I don't know much about him. He is 
 no favourite here, and his apprentices look pretty bad. 
 He brought them down once or twice. But I'm half 
 afraid he's gone. John, John ! " he called, and a 
 groom came hurriedly forward. 
 
 'Yes, sir." 
 
 ' Has Horrox left the building- ? " 
 
 ' Yes, sir, some minutes ago." 
 
 ' Where does he live, John ? " 
 
 ' Don't know, sir, but Sam knows." 
 
 'Go and ask him, and be quick." 
 The man went off with alacrity, and returned 
 almost immediately and said, 
 
 "Sam says as how he lives in South-Side. He's 
 getting the name of the street and the number, 
 sir. " 
 
 At this moment Sam appeared, bearing a piece of 
 crumpled paper in his hand. 
 
 "There's the name of the street, sir, but no. one 
 here is sure of the number. Tim thinks it's forty. 
 I think it's one hundred and forty. We're sure its 
 something with a four in it." 
 
 "Thank you," said Whanks, slipping a shilling 
 into the man's hand, "I shall soon find the house. 
 The street isn't too long, and the time is my own," 
 he said proudly. 
 
 The men walked away, leaving Daspar and 
 Whanks alone in the ring. 
 
 "How has time served you, Whanks ?"* asked 
 Daspar. 
 
 " Splendidly," replied Whanks. "I left England 
 18
 
 274 
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 with four hundred pounds, I have come back to the 
 old country with thousands, rich enough to buy this 
 blessed circus and all in it, and a good many other 
 'shows ' into the bargain." 
 
 "You're a lucky fellow," said Daspar. "How 
 did the riches come to you ? " 
 
 "From my claim in the diamond fields. It's been 
 no joke sitting there scraping and scratching like a 
 hen all the day long, but it's better than working in 
 a circus after all." 
 
 "Well, I am glad to hear of your luck. I should 
 not object if I could boast of a trifle more than I earn 
 here ; and deuced hard work it is, never done morn- 
 ing, noon, and night one long toil, always the 
 same, not Sunday free even. But here I am, so it's 
 no use to grumble ; but I get pretty dead beat at 
 times." 
 
 Whanks, after a few words of simple sympathy, 
 left the circus, and returned to Tom. 
 
 "I've found out the villain lives in South-Side, but 
 no one seems sure of the house, so I think we'll start 
 for that locality. Bring your thin walking-stick, sir, 
 we may want it ; he'll be a pretty rough party to 
 deal with, I dare bet a quid." 
 
 "I'll give him the most thundering thrashing he 
 ever had if I can only catch him," said Tom quite 
 fiercely. 
 
 "What a villain he must be to get the children 
 from LeSale ; but we'll make him confess to his dirty 
 tricks, the unscrupulous scoundrel," continued Tom, 
 his anger rising as he thought of the sufferings to 
 which his sister's children must have been subjected. 
 Mrs. Le Sale had told Whanks sufficient to make 
 them both very uneasy about the welfare of Vanda 
 and Adrian. 
 
 "They couldn't have fallen into worse hands," 
 said Whanks to Tom. " Horrox is about the cruel- 
 lest man / ever knew, and added to that is his hate 
 for your sister. He never forgave her getting him
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 275 
 
 summoned, and all this blessed trouble starts from 
 that, I bet." 
 
 Whanks' knowledge of the hardships of the train- 
 ing, even under the most favourable circumstances, 
 had aroused Tom's worst fears ; but when the 
 character of the man, and the ill-feeling he bore 
 Leila became facts, his anxiety knew no bounds, and 
 he in his turn was determined to have revenge for 
 the sake of the dead mother the only sister, and the 
 sole companion of his earlier days, who had clung 
 so lovingly to him when the great disgrace of their 
 lives had fallen upon them both. 
 
 Together the men started, resolved to rescue the 
 children before many more hours of suffering had 
 passed over their heads. They could not fix upon 
 any certain plan of action until they found out more 
 about Horrox and his surroundings. 
 
 At the corner of Humphrey Street was a public- 
 house, and into this Whanks turned, followed by 
 Tom. 
 
 " You must have a glass of bitter," said Whanks 
 to Tom, "or I shan't get out of them what I want. 
 I mustn't take a drop ; if 1 begin the old- game I'm 
 done for, and when my aunt's money came I vowed 
 I wouldn't touch another glass, and I won't." 
 
 " Glass of bitter," said Tom to the stout, red-faced 
 woman at the bar. 
 
 " Small lemon," said Whanks. 
 
 The woman pushed the glasses towards them and 
 banged down the change with an injured air. "She 
 didn't believe in a customer as went in for lemon- 
 ade," and she made it a rule to be particularly short 
 and disagreeable to those who occupied the 
 " private" bar and who ordered nothing but small 
 lemons. 
 
 She was turning away when Whanks, nothing 
 daunted by her manner, said, 
 
 " I say, mum, I want you a minute." 
 
 She looked at the speaker, she looked at Tom and
 
 276 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 wondered whether he was an excise officer, and that 
 thought brought her back to the counter where they 
 stood. 
 
 " My name's Smith, Mrs. Sarah Smith, if you want 
 to speak to me," she said loftily. "I ain't used to 
 be called after in that fashion, and pray what do you 
 want with me/ 3 " 
 
 "I'm sure I beg your pardon," said Whanks hastily, 
 and Tom lifted his hat. That won the heart of Mrs. 
 Sarah Smith, and a smile broke over her face, mak- 
 ing her look more low-typed and coarse than ever. 
 " I want to know at which number in Humphrey 
 Street Mr. Horrox lives. I have particular business 
 with him. Does he ever come in here ? " asked 
 Whanks. 
 
 " Let me see, I think it's fourteen. George," she 
 called to a burly man, who was rilling glasses rapid- 
 ly one after the other, " George, which is the house 
 that man what's his name ? you know the chap 
 with a roaring name like a wild beast." 
 
 " Horrox,'' put in Whanks. 
 
 " Ah, yes, that's the name. Horrox," she called 
 to her husband. 
 
 " Fourty-four, I think ; but the gal will be in here 
 soon for the beer. It's nigh on one. Ah, here she is." 
 
 Mrs. Smith went over to the other counter and said 
 a few words to the child, who left the bar and came 
 round to the door of the private bar, upon which was 
 written " No jugs, glasses only." 
 
 When Sally saw Whanks and Tom standing at 
 the counter a frightened look stole over her face. In 
 her childish mind visions of policemen and prison 
 came before her, for had not she, at the landlady's 
 orders, taken what belonged to the lodgers ? And 
 she fancied now that she was found out. 
 
 " These gentlemen want to ask you a question, 
 child." 
 
 " You live in the same house as Mr. Horrox, my 
 dear, don't you? " said Whanks very kindly.
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 277 
 
 "Yes, sir, please sir." 
 
 " Who else lives in the house ? " put in Tom, as if 
 afraid to hear her reply. 
 
 " Mistress, and Miss Vander, and Master Adrian, 
 and me/' answered Sally. 
 
 "Are you fond of Miss Vanda and her little 
 brother ? " asked Whanks. 
 
 " Oh, ain't I just, that's all," answered Sally, her 
 grimy face breaking into a look of real pleasure and 
 love. " Miss Vander kisses me now and then when 
 the old brute is out of the way." 
 
 " Who is the old brute ? " asked Tom. 
 
 " Mr. Horrox, to be sure. He do whack her 
 about ! She looks pretty bad, nigh on dying I think." 
 
 "Would you help Miss Vanda if you could?" 
 asked Tom. " Would you help her friends to find 
 her and make her happy ? " 
 
 " Wouldn't I just ! But she ain't got no friends, I 
 think. I posted a letter for her once, took it out 
 'tween the 'errins, but she said as 'ow it were to 
 someone she'd once lived with. It wasn't a mother 
 or anyone of that sort, 'cause she'd have told me. 
 She ain't happy enough to have any friends, please, 
 sir, leastways I don't think so, please sir." 
 
 A look of deep pain passed over Tom's face as 
 the child finished speaking, and Whanks looked 
 much distressed. 
 
 " We are her friends," said Tom, " and we are 
 anxious to know at which number of the street you 
 live." 
 
 " You belong to Miss Vander? I'm blowed if that 
 don't beat all ! The number is four, the 'ouse with 
 the yeller blinds. My hi ! what a lark ! " and Sally, 
 in her ecstasy, gave a hop and a jump round, which 
 spilt the beer down her apron, and it trickled to the 
 floor. Then the happiness died from her face, and 
 she exclaimed piteously, ' ' What will the missus say ? 
 I daren't go home without the beer. Oh, dear 1 oh, 
 dear 1 "
 
 278 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST, 
 
 "See here," said Whanks, "I will give you half-a- 
 crown, and pay for the beer, if you will help us. 
 Now, what time of the night should we find Miss 
 Vanda, her brother, and Mr. Horrox at home, and 
 where would they be sitting ? " 
 
 " They mostly practises until eight o'clock, and 
 then sometimes Mister Horrox goes out to a music 
 'all. Sometimes they goes too ; sometimes he locks 
 them in the drawering-room till he gits back, ever 
 so late. They never gits to bed until after twelve. 
 I 'card Mister Horrox tell Miss Vander ' she wasn't 
 a-going to spend her time in bed,' and she gits up 
 at harlf-past five tain't much rest after a clamber- 
 ing over them bars all day, and she looks ever so 
 white, but Mr. Horrox don't mind. One blessed 
 night he come 'ome from the music 'all and found 
 Miss Vander asleep, she were that dead tired and he 
 just did whack her ! " 
 
 " Well, look here, can you be outside the house 
 about eight this evening and let us know whether 
 they are at home or not ? " asked Tom with great 
 anxiety. 
 
 " No, I'm sure I can't," said Sally convincingly. 
 " I'd be nearly murdered if they caught me out of a 
 hevening." 
 
 "Can you give us any sign from the house?" 
 asked Whanks. 
 
 Sally thought for a moment and then she said. 
 
 " If they's at home, and ail tergether in the drawer- 
 ing-room, I'll put the broom out of the top winder 
 and twirdle it round and round, and if you stands 
 under the lamp-post oppersite to number four you'll 
 see it hard enough." 
 
 " Very well, and if we see the broom we will come 
 to the front door, and will you let us in without 
 ringing or knocking ? " said Whanks eagerly. 
 
 " Can't do that, sir, mightn't be able to git to the 
 door ; but when I twirdles the broom I'll drop the 
 latchkey in a piece of paper, and one of you gents
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 279 
 
 must look in the gutter for it. But you will have 
 to look sharp 'cause I musn't contract the neigh- 
 bours." 
 
 Attract she meant, but Tom and Whanks were too 
 full of business to notice the ludicrous speech of the 
 child before them. 
 
 The matter seemed arranged, when Sally suddenly 
 broke in, 
 
 " What are you going to do when you gits in to 
 missis' house ? 'Cause if I'm found out they'll nearly 
 kill me, I know they will," said the child in dis- 
 tress. 
 
 " We are going to fetch Miss Vanda and her 
 brother," said Tom, " and if you will really help us 
 you can come along too, so just have your bonnet 
 and cloak handy, for everything must be done 
 quickly." 
 
 " You'll take me along of Miss Vander ? " said the 
 child aghast. "Do you really mean that, sir?" 
 
 " Yes, child, you shall go too, that is, if you carry 
 out your promises for to-night." 
 
 " If they's at home I shall, and when you gits in 
 you'll find the drawering-room the furst door you 
 comes to up the stairs. Mister Horrox allus makes 
 a goodish rattle with the latchkey, and if you does 
 that missus will thinks it's he." Suddenly she looked 
 at the clock. 'Lor' 'av' mercy ! it's nearly a quarter 
 to two. What shall I do? What will the missus 
 say, and Mister Horrox wanted his dinner at half- 
 past one sharp?" and such a terrified expression 
 came over the girl's face that both men felt ashamed 
 of the time they had kept her, and Tom said 
 kindly, 
 
 " Never mind ; if you stand by us you \vill be off 
 to-night with Miss Vanda. Be brave till then, and 
 don't forget to-night at nine." 
 
 The child nodded her head and hurried off, and 
 the two men went out of the bar. 
 
 " I say, George, them's a queer party. They're
 
 280 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 planning- something- to-night at eight ; I hope it ain't 
 a murder, or an elopement, because Sarah Smith 
 ain't going into a witness box at the court ; it's no 
 fit place for a lady." 
 
 "No one wants you, my dear," answered a gruff 
 voice. ' ' If they were planning a murder they wouldn't 
 come to a public-house, and if it's an elopement I 
 hope they will enjoy it." 
 
 At five minutes to eight Tom and Whanks loitered 
 near to the lamp-post opposite to number four. The 
 night was damp after a recent shower, but the air 
 was close for the season. The moon peeped out 
 now and again from among the grey scudding clouds, 
 and shone with a sickly wan light upon the long 
 row of dusky houses. 
 
 There were but few people about in the side street. 
 A boy passed them, yelling " Evening paper, special 
 edition," but Tom and Whanks watched number four 
 with all the sharpness of experienced detectives. 
 They saw lights were burning in the drawing-room 
 and basement, but all the other windows were in 
 darkness. Suddenly the top window was cautiously 
 opened, and a broorn came out and was turned 
 round twice quickly and then disappeared, but no 
 key fell with the ringing sound to the pavement 
 beneath. 
 
 Whanks looked in dismay at Tom and said, 
 
 "She has forgotten the key." 
 
 "I'd much rather she let us in," said Tom. 
 " Breaking into another person's house is punishable 
 by law." 
 
 "We are going to get Miss Leila's children, law 
 or no law," said Whanks savagely. 
 
 They kept their watch on the house as if reluctant 
 to move, when Whanks exclaimed excitedly, 
 
 "The front door is open. She has managed that. 
 Come at once." 
 
 They both walked boldly in. Sally stood in the 
 hall. She did not speak, but pointed to the stairs.
 
 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 28 1 
 
 In another moment Tom and Whanks stood facing 
 Horrox and his apprentices. 
 
 "Who's gone upstairs, Sally ? " asked her mistress, 
 half muddled with gin. 
 
 "Some gents friends of Miss Vander's. I'm 
 going up to set the supper now." 
 
 But the besotted woman did not reply, and Sally 
 got her opportunity to get upstairs. Her heart beat, 
 her face grew crimson as she made her way to the 
 drawing-room door to be ready to go if they really 
 meant to take her. But she doubted that, poor 
 child, yet she would hope for the best. The gentle- 
 men might think of her. 
 
 The room which Whanks and Tom entered was 
 large, but there was an air of desolation, which 
 struck them in a moment. They saw the faded 
 carpet, the dirty curtains, the untidy appearance of 
 the apartment, and the cheerless air which pervaded 
 the whole room. In an easy-chair sat Horrox, 
 fiercely watching the movements of his two appren- 
 tices, who were practising some stage steps. On a 
 chair by his side lay the white-thonged whip. Just 
 as Whanks and Tom entered a fearful oath fell from 
 his lips, and the whip had curled swiftly round 
 Vanda's feet, and they heard her smothered cry of 
 anguish. 
 
 "Who are you?" roared Horrox, as the two men 
 stood looking at him. "Get out of the room this 
 minute ; how dare you come in here? Oh, it's you, 
 is it? " he continued, glancing at Whanks, who had 
 stood behind Tom, but both men were quick enough 
 to perceive that he grew a shade paler when he 
 recognised his visitor. 
 
 "It's Whanks! it's Whanks!" cried Vanda. 
 "Adrian, have you forgotten Whanks?" the child 
 cried with joy. 
 
 " Hold your tongue ! " cried Horrox, white with 
 passion and fear. 
 
 "I've come for you, Miss Vanda and Master
 
 282 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 Adrian," said Whanks, with emotion in his voice. 
 He could hardly speak, so terribly unnerved was he 
 to see the thin, haggard, and sad faces of the children 
 he loved so dearly. 
 
 "Who are you?" asked Horrox, coming up to 
 Tom, "and what the devil brought you here, 
 Whanks ? " 
 
 " I am the uncle of those two wretched children. 
 Their mother, Leila Castelli, was my sister, and I 
 have come to claim my niece and nephew, and they 
 leave this house with me to-night." 
 
 "Ah, ah ! I daresay you think you're master here, 
 but you see they belong to me, and they will stay in 
 my charge," said Horrox. 
 
 "We shall see about that. Show me your author- 
 ity? Where are the indentures signed by their 
 father? I demand to see your right to detain these 
 children. If you have none, the police shall be 
 called upon at once to act in this matter, for you are 
 not only detaining them unlawfully but I am given 
 to understand that you brutally ill-use them." 
 
 " You want my authority do you ? Well, you shall 
 have that right enough. It's in this room," and he 
 moved to his desk. 
 
 "Vanda and Adrian, come here. I am Uncle 
 Tom. You must remember your mother speaking 
 of me," and then he folded her in his arms and kissed 
 her fervently, and for the first time he was struck 
 with the acute misery written upon her face ; then 
 he tenderly embraced the boy. 
 
 When Horrox came back to where Tom stood, 
 Whanks called the children to his side and kissed 
 them, saying, "Stand by me, my dears, and listen 
 to what Uncle Tom is saying." 
 
 "There, that is my authority, "said Horrox, show- 
 ing the piece of paper Le Sale had signed. 
 
 "That! Why it's not worth the ink it's written 
 with. Le Sale had the indentures, not you ; this 
 paper is a fraud, a lie. The children are not yours.
 
 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 283 
 
 Look at them ! " cried Tom, his voice quivering 
 with passion, " look at them, I say ! Are you not 
 ashamed to stand there and face me, their uncle? 
 Can't I see the pain you have inflicted in their white, 
 sad faces ? Dare you tell me they have been kindly 
 treated ? You are a villain, a consummate scoundrel ; 
 and what does this mean, sir ? Is this the instrument 
 of torture you have used on these hapless children ? 
 Answer me, or by I'll throttle you as you stand ! " 
 
 Horrox grew livid. He looked at the tall, fine 
 man before him ; he saw the broad, thick-set shoul- 
 ders and the powerful build of the sturdy frame. He 
 was a gymnast, yet he did not feel inclined to show 
 fight with the angry man. 
 
 "Children," said Tom excitedly, "has this man 
 often struck you with this ? Tell the truth, there is 
 nothing to fear. You belong to me, and to your 
 father. Now, speak out." 
 
 There was silence for a moment. Horrox glared 
 at the two frightened children, and then Vanda re- 
 plied in a low voice, 
 
 "Many times a day." 
 
 " Deny that if you can, you villain ! " said Tom with 
 passion. "You've meted out torture to two helpless 
 children, now, sir, it's your turn," and before Hor- 
 rox could defend himself Tom had seized him by the 
 collar. For a moment there was a struggle between 
 the two men, but Tom, strong as a lion, after years 
 of healthy outdoor life in the Transvaal, was more 
 than a match for the trained but more delicate man 
 before him. In the scuffle Tom dropped his thin 
 cane, but Whanks picked it up and handed it to 
 him, and then the blows came down mercilessly on 
 Horrox. 
 
 "There, you coward, how do you like that?" 
 cried Tom, dealing him cut after cut. The children 
 turned deathly white, and then Whanks opened the 
 door, and hurrying them downstairs, called to Sally 
 to come along also, and hold her tongue. A moment
 
 284 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 afterwards they were in a cab, which Tom and 
 Whanks had left in a side street. All was so quickly 
 done that the children hardly realised that they were 
 free. They were soon in the Stretford Road, and 
 then Whanks called to the cabman to stop. He got 
 out, and walking up the street, entered a small draper's 
 shop, and stepping up to the counter, he said, 
 
 " I want a hat for a girl. I'm going to London 
 to-night, and I want to take a present to my niece. 
 Look sharp, please." 
 
 "What size, sir?" asked the matter-of-fact shop 
 assistant. 
 
 Whanks hesitated, he had never thought of the dif- 
 ficulty of size, and for a moment he did not know 
 how to reply satisfactory. 
 
 "She's thirteen," replied Whanks at last, evading 
 the direct question. 
 
 A hat, gloves, and ulster were also selected by 
 the aid of the proprietor of the shop, and Whanks 
 returned to the cab. He then told the cabman to 
 drive on and stop at the first shop where they sold 
 boys' clothes. These clothes, an overcoat and hat, 
 were purchased for Adrian. 
 
 "Now, children, pop on these things quickly. We 
 shall be at the station directly." 
 
 The boy did as he was told, but Vanda neither 
 spoked nor moved.- She had fainted. Whanks was 
 in the greatest distress, and he called to the driver, 
 
 "Stop at the next public-house," and then he went 
 in and brought her a glass of brandy and water. 
 
 She sipped a few drops and opened her eyes slowly. 
 
 "You are with Whanks, darling. Cheer up, and 
 put on these pretty things. We are going to Mrs. Le 
 Sale." 
 
 "Going away !" cried Vanda, almost dazed with 
 joy. "Are we really going ? " 
 
 "Yes, you and Adrian, and Sally, all going with 
 me and Uncle Tom." 
 
 "Oh, how happy I am! Adrian kiss me." And
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 285 
 
 the children, free from bondage, hugged one another 
 and cried for joy, and Sally said, "Miss Vander, 
 Miss Vander, won't you kiss me ? " And then Vanda 
 said, " Sally you have been my friend, we must 
 never part again," and she kissed her lovingly. 
 
 Whilst the happy, grateful children were driving 
 to the station Tom was administering what he de- 
 scribed as " a thundering thrashing" to Horrox. At 
 last he let go his hold, and striking him one blow 
 on the temple, felled him to the ground insensible. 
 After waiting for one moment to see that he had 
 done no serious injury, he marched downstairs. The 
 landlady had heard the confusion, and she discreetly 
 locked herself in her sitting-room, murmuring, " It's 
 naught to do with me. I sha'n't hinterfere." 
 
 After a time Horrox recovered, and then sat down 
 to consider what was the best thing to do. 
 
 At length he decided to leave the country. 
 
 That night Vanda and Adrian quitted the scenes of 
 their unhappy and cruel training, the faithful Sally 
 and Uncle Tom and dear old Whanks giving them 
 the most unceasing care. Adrian, tired out, slept, 
 but he started up several times, as if afraid of a blow 
 or a harsh word, but he sighed with contentment and 
 fell asleep again when he found the kindly faces 
 around him smiled very lovingly at him. But Vanda 
 lay back white and weak, fainting twice during the 
 journey. Tenderly they chafed the small thin hands, 
 and Tom supported her in his strong arms and kissed 
 her many times, and once he said to Whanks, 
 
 "I feel as if Leila had come back to me. See, she 
 has the same fair hair, the same great eyes. Oh, 
 Whanks, what do I owe you? " and he gulped down 
 the lump that would rise. 
 
 At last Vanda slept, and then Tom told Whanks of 
 the hiding he had given to Horrox, and both men 
 were satisfied that he had met his deserts. 
 
 When they reached London they stayed there a 
 night to give the children time to recover, and after
 
 286 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 
 
 a peaceful rest they awoke to find luxury and love 
 instead of cruelty and hard work. 
 
 The next day Mrs. Le Sale came, in response to 
 a telegram, and the children were placed in her 
 charge to be nursed and tended until Tom could take 
 them to Paris. 
 
 Vanda was too ill to say much. She put her arms 
 round Mrs. Le Sale and whispered, 
 
 " Home, it is home at last. I am very tired. Can 
 I go to sleep now ? " 
 
 They left her. The blinds were drawn, the room 
 was quiet, and Vanda slept. 
 
 Poor, weary girlhood, there was peace at last. 
 
 The toil was ended. 
 
 There was perfect rest for Vanda. 
 
 No more grief, no more sorrow. 
 
 Home at last 1
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 287 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 THE BEGINNING OF THE END. 
 
 CASTELLI'S engagement at Bombay was drawing to a 
 close, and he and Cleo were preparing to sail home- 
 wards in the Contadina when Mrs. Le Sale's letter 
 came to hand. He read it carefully many times over, 
 and then he questioned Cleo. 
 
 "Do you know what this letter means? Did you 
 understand that Vanda and Adrian had left Le Sale 
 and gone to that villain Horrox?" 
 
 He kept his eyes fixed upon her as he spoke. 
 
 "Don't ask me such ridiculous questions," she 
 replied in an offhand manner. "Why should I 
 know more than you do about your own children ? 
 You surely don't expect me to be responsible ? " 
 
 "Did you hear of Le Sale's death?" he asked, 
 quite ignoring her reply. 
 
 "Did you ? " she asked evasively. 
 
 " No," he replied brusquely. 
 
 "Then why should I have done so ?" 
 
 Cleo was far too cute too deny her share in the 
 transaction entirely, because she was not sure how 
 far Castelli might go to find out the true state of the 
 case, and to be on the safe side as long as possible 
 was a necessity ; but neither would she own that 
 she knew anything of Le Sale or his death, and the 
 subsequent arrangements with regard to the chil- 
 dren, for might not the whole thing blow over, and 
 then she would not stand in a false light either 
 way. 
 
 Like all who commit dark deeds, she fancied 
 her secret safe in the keeping of an unscrupulous
 
 288 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 man. She forgot, as others forget, that the day of 
 retribution must come, that the glare of the light 
 must sooner or later lay bare her sin in all its heinous- 
 ness. But she never thought of that. 
 
 Castelli said very little, but he was quite deter- 
 mined to sift the matter to the bottom, and so sure 
 he was that Cleo was in some way mixed up in the 
 affair that he could no longer treat her in the old 
 familiar style, and a coldness sprang up between 
 them which all Cleo's smiles and attentions failed to 
 disperse. 
 
 A week before they sailed Castelli received a tele- 
 gram from Whanks. It ran : 
 
 "When do you return? Children with uncle. 
 Whanks, Falcon Hotel, Sel Chester." 
 
 To this Castelli replied : 
 
 "Sail Contadina. Meet me Selchester." 
 
 After the receipt of the telegram Castelli re- 
 marked : 
 
 "Well, Whanks will soon find out the whole thing, 
 if he hasn't by this. I suppose that confounded 
 aunt of his has left him a pot of money." 
 
 " Well, don't you remember Ringens told us that 
 he had made thousands with your wife's brother on 
 the diamond fields. But why he interferes with 
 your children /can't understand," Cleo added in a 
 disagreeable tone. 
 
 Castelli knew only too well. He could call to 
 mind how devoted a servant Whanks had been to 
 his dead wife, and how he bestowed much love on 
 her children, but to Cleo he only remarked rudely, 
 
 " It is nothing to do with you ; I am much obliged 
 to him." 
 
 "Ah ! that's because he is a rich man ; if he had 
 been still your groom your thanks would have been 
 pretty scarce I'm thinking," she added saucily. 
 
 During the voyage he took but little notice of her
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 289 
 
 beyond the merest civilities. Both of them were go- 
 ing direct to Selchester to fulfil a long engagement 
 This Whanks had found out through Castelli's agents, 
 and there he determined to return at such time as 
 Castelli arrived. Vanda and Adrian were in Paris in 
 the kind care of their uncle and Mrs Le Sale, and 
 later he received very cheerful letters from them. 
 One in particular, which came from Tom, announced 
 his engagement to Fanny Herepath. 
 
 "I met her in Pans," he wrote, "and now all is 
 settled and I am a happy man." 
 
 "So Mr. Tom is going to be 'spliced/ is he? 
 Well, God bless him ! I hope he will be happier than 
 poor Miss Leila was. But I'm wondering if he will 
 have the children when he's married. Well, if he 
 don't, I will," he murmured. 
 
 When Castelli and Cleo arrived in England they 
 started at once for Selchester, and then Castelli made 
 rather a startling proposition to Cleo. 
 
 " I'm going to put up at the Falcon Hotel, Cleo, 
 for a day or so, and you had better go into private 
 apartments ; Miss Taylor may have the same rooms 
 again. I can't have you at the hotel with me," he 
 added positively. 
 
 "And, pray, why not? I suppose I am good 
 enough company for your late groom the hotel is 
 as much for me as for you. It's public to all who 
 can pay, and you can't keep me out," she cried 
 excitedly. 
 
 " I can't, but your character can," he remarked 
 with a sneer. " You've been in Selchester too many 
 times to pose as a saint ; take my advice and don't 
 go to the Falcon or they may refuse to take you in, 
 and that wouldn't be pleasant for you." 
 
 "You're a beauty," she stormed. "It's pretty 
 cool to tell me that you can go where / can't. If I 
 am a sinner, I bet you are a greater, and surely 
 where the devil can go his angels can," she cried 
 angrily.
 
 2 go 
 
 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 
 
 "Well, you won't go with me. I believe you 
 have deceived me all through, and until I hear what 
 Whanks can tell me we are best apart. Someone 
 has lied, and I shouldn't wonder if it is you. At 
 any rate, Cleo, you must look out for yourself," he 
 added without relenting. 
 
 "Thanks," she replied with sarcasm, "I will." 
 
 Castelli had not expected Cleo to take his decision 
 so quietly. But she had a good reason fordoing so. 
 For some days she had been wondering how she 
 could get out of the meeting between Castelli and 
 Whanks. She knew he would probably accuse her 
 of a great deal which she knew to be true, but which 
 would bring down Castelli's wrath. She would 
 rather put off the evil day, for she dreaded what 
 she knew must be the result if Horrox had " split " 
 upon her, a parting from her handsome lover ; there- 
 fore it suited her best to be out of the way until the 
 affair had tided over. But she played her part so 
 well that even Castelli was unaware of her wishes, 
 and he hoped that he was meting out a just punish- 
 ment to her by declining to have her with him as his 
 companion. Unwittingly he assisted her to carry 
 out just the plan she desired. 
 
 And so each of them went their several ways. 
 
 When Castelli and Whanks met, the greeting to 
 each other was somewhat cool. Both of them felt 
 how much had happened since last they saw each 
 other. Whanks recalled to Castelli his dead wife, 
 whilst the presence of his old master brought back 
 to Whanks the vision of a beautiful, happy girl on 
 the seashore at Sandcliffe, afterwards of a palefaced, 
 weary woman, dying of a broken heart, and he 
 could not put out his hand and welcome him, as the 
 old servant felt he should like to have done. 
 
 When Castelli thanked him for being the means of 
 helping the children, Whanks replied, 
 
 " What has been done by me and Mr. Tom has 
 been done for Miss Leila's sake."
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 291 
 
 Castelli winced. He felt the implied rebuke, but 
 he made no reply, and a silence fell on the two men. 
 
 At last Whanks spoke. 
 
 "It's better, sir, that you should know just how 
 things were after poor Le Sale's death, and then you 
 can judge what is best to be done." 
 
 The two men sat down, and Whanks told Castelli 
 the history of Tom and his going to Selchester, how 
 Tom had thrashed Horrox unmercifully, and how 
 the coward in his fright had begged for mercy, put- 
 ting the chief blame upon Cleo. 
 
 "It appears," said Whanks, "that Cleo and Horrox 
 were hand and glove in the affair from the begin- 
 ning. The villain paid her for her share of the tran- 
 saction, and getting your consent to sending them to 
 Le Sale was the beginning of the cruel scheme." 
 
 "The devil ! " muttered Castelli. 
 
 "Yes, she is devil enough and to spare. It broke 
 my heart to see those children, Miss Leila's, worn as 
 thin as laths, and looking like death itself. They've 
 been treated most shamefully. I'm not sure as Miss 
 Van da will live long. It's pretty nigh killed her, 
 sir." 
 
 Castelli turned white as Whanks spoke, but it was 
 with anger more than regret for his children's suffer- 
 ings. 
 
 "I have done with her for ever for ever," he 
 hissed. 
 
 "She's a bad lot, sir, take my word on it, sir. 
 She will bring you more trouble than joy. You'd 
 best rid yourself of her once and for all," said Whanks 
 boldly. 
 
 Castelli did not, as of old, tell Whanks to mind 
 his own business. He was a rich man now, and no 
 longer the drunken servant of the old days. 
 
 "I intend to," said Castelli angrily. " Cleo and I 
 have done with one another from to-day." 
 
 "I hope you'll keep to that, sir, for Miss Leila's 
 sake. She'd have fretted had she known how things
 
 292 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 had turned. God bless her ! But the children are 
 safe enough now, and Mr. Tom and I will be glad 
 when you can go over and settle things. Somehow 
 Mr. Tom and I don't like the idea of parting with 
 them," said Whanks anxiously. 
 
 " I daresay they can stay with you," said Castelli 
 rather vaguely. "But where is that villain Horrox? 
 He and Cleo must be polished off before I think of 
 the children." 
 
 " I've been inquiring. He's gone abroad bolted. 
 I guess he is in America. He used to hang out there 
 a good deal at one time. He actually owned that 
 he sent a telegram to Cleo the very day he got the 
 children into his power." 
 
 In a moment flashed across Castelli's mind the 
 receipt of a telegram by Cleo which she had de- 
 clined to show him. He had no doubt now as to 
 whom it came from, and his face grew whiter still 
 with passion as Whanks ceased speaking. 
 
 "Well, I'll go down to the circus," he said, his 
 voice trembling with rage. "I'll go and see what 
 she has to say for herself, the devil ! and if ever I 
 catch Horrox there will be murder, as sure as I stand 
 here. Here, give me my hat. Give it me at once," 
 he added with his old peremptory manner, forget- 
 ting in his anger that Whanks was not his servant to 
 do his behests. 
 
 But Whanks did as he was asked, and did not at- 
 tempt to interfere with the irate man. 
 
 Castelli went to the circus, more of a fiend than a 
 man in his terrible passion. 
 
 Whilst this was going on in Selchester Tom and 
 the children were in Paris, awaiting the coming of 
 Castelli and Whanks, when Tom was going to make 
 the former a definite offer for the charge of Vanda 
 and Adrian. After much persuasion on the part of 
 Tom, Mrs. Le Sale had consented to leave her chil- 
 dren with her married sister and come with them all 
 to France.
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 293 
 
 "The children must have someone with them," 
 said Tom. " Look how ill Vanda is." 
 
 "Ill, I should think she is ! It will take months 
 and months before the marks of that fiend's terrible 
 lash disappear. She is terribly scarred and marked, 
 and so is Adrian. I think Horrox ought to have been 
 put in prison, that I do ; but as to going to Paris, I 
 don't know, it seems to me an awful journey. What 
 with crossing the sea, and the language being all of a 
 muddle, and my children left behind, is more than I 
 can lean to," said Mrs. Le Sale. 
 
 But eventually Tom persuaded her to make ar- 
 rangements and come for a few days, until he could 
 find someone else to be with them. 
 
 "Would you leave them motherless and ill, with 
 only me to look after them ? " asked Tom gently. 
 
 This speech touched Mrs. Le Sale's motherly heart, 
 and she exclaimed, 
 
 "I'm sure poor Le Sale would have told me to 
 look after Vanda ; he thought a world of Vanda. 
 Yes, I'll go if the sea is the death of me, so that's 
 agreed," and she went to try and nurse back life and 
 spirits to the two almost heartbroken children. 
 
 One evening Vanda was resting on the sofa in a 
 pleasant room at the Grand Hotel in Paris. Mrs. 
 Le Sale was sitting by her, when she said suddenly, 
 
 " Do you think many children are treated like we 
 were, Mrs. Le Sale ? Sometimes I cannot sleep for 
 thinking of it." 
 
 Adrian was sitting at the table, once more at his 
 beloved drawing. He had almost forgotten the 
 hardships of the past, although his face looked very 
 thin and white. He looked up as Vanda spoke, as if 
 her words recalled the days of horror and misery. 
 
 " Don't worry about that, Vanda," said Mrs. Le 
 Sale kindly. "There's very few in the world as 
 cruel as Mr. Horrox. You see, my dear, he hated 
 your poor dear mother, and so he had his spite on 
 you. "
 
 294 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 "But the masters are not kind, are they, even if 
 they are not as bad as Horrox? " inquired Vanda, 
 not to be put off. 
 
 " Well, my dear, Le Sale was, but I am afraid 
 there's few like him. They have to be strict, and 
 keep their apprentices hard at work. You see the 
 people go to circuses to be amused, and so the chil- 
 dren must be made to do their work properly. Hor- 
 rox would have been kinder if it hadn't been for his 
 grudge against your mother ; but it's a dreadful life 
 for a girl hard, cruel, terrible. My children won't 
 .go in for it, I'll take good care," said Mrs. Le Sale 
 with deep feeling. 
 
 "Can't anything be done to help the children, 
 Mrs. Le Sale ? Will no one save them ? " said Vanda 
 in real distress. 
 
 " I've heard some people are trying, but it will be 
 uphill work. The public won't believe don't want 
 to. They're afraid it may cost them something. 
 They like to offer opinions, but when it comes to 
 helping those who have done the work they don't 
 see it," replied Mrs. Le Sale. "If the hardships 
 could be stopped without touching their pockets, 
 they would gladly cry out against it. But no, no, 
 my dear, the children may work and toil to the end 
 if it is likely to cost them a fiver." 
 
 "I wish I had some money," replied Vanda 
 wearily, a flush of pain spreading over her thin, wan 
 face. 
 
 Mrs. Le Sale noticed the change, and she said 
 hastily, 
 
 "Try and rest now, Vanda. You know the doctor 
 told you this morning not to worry or the nervous 
 attack would return, and then your uncle would be so 
 vexed. Don't think any more about it just now, my 
 dear," said Mrs. Le Sale. 
 
 Just as she finished speaking the door opened, and 
 Tom came into the room, behind him came a bash- 
 ful, blushing girl.
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 29$ 
 
 " Vanda," said Tom, " this is Miss Fanny Herepath, 
 my future wife. She has promised to be your friend ; 
 haven't you, Fanny?" asked Tom, turning to her. 
 
 "I shall do my best. May I kiss you, Vanda?" 
 and she stooped down and caressed her affection- 
 ately. "And will Adrian kiss me too?" she asked, 
 going up to where the boy sat. 
 
 He put his arm about her neck, and pursed up his 
 mouth for a kiss. 
 
 "Are you going to live with us? " he asked. 
 
 "Some day, I hope," she answered quietly. 
 
 Mrs. Le Sale motioned to Sally to leave the room 
 with her : she felt sure Mr. Tom had something to 
 say, and when they were gone he told Vanda and 
 Adrian the story of his love ; how he had seen Fanny 
 Herepath many years before, and how they had 
 hoped to meet again some day ; how Fanny's father 
 had returned to England a rich man once more and 
 her brother was studying art in Paris ; and how they 
 had all met in the great city, and that he and Fanny 
 would be married soon, and there would be a home 
 for them both, if Castelli would accept a proposed 
 offer. 
 
 " But what will become of Whanks and Sally ? I 
 shouldn't like to leave them," pleaded Vanda. 
 
 "Whanks will settle that himself. He is as rich 
 as I am, Vanda. I cannot make him go with us 
 unless he wishes it ; but, of course, Sally must go, and 
 learn to wait upon you and Adrian. You see we 
 must get a governess for you both at home, unless 
 your father wishes to take you with him, and, of 
 course, he has the first claim nothing can be de- 
 cided until he comes," said Tom. 
 
 "I am glad you are going to be married, uncle. 
 I hope you will both be very, very happy," she said 
 wearily. 
 
 The tone struck Fanny and Tom painfully, and 
 both of them drew near to the sofa and looked at the 
 lovely face, so white and sad.
 
 296 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST.' 
 
 "Do you feel more than usually tired, Vanda 
 dear ? " asked Tom with anxiety. 
 
 "No, uncle dear, only the life seems gone out of 
 me. I wonder if I shall ever feel happy again. It 
 all seems different, even Adrian is not the same/' 
 she said, smiling- languidly at her brother. 
 
 "Do you hear that, Adrian?" said Fanny Here- 
 path; "come and kiss her, and tell her you love 
 her just as much as ever." 
 
 The boy came, and flushed painfully when he 
 stooped to kiss her, saying, 
 
 "Of course I love you, Vanda dear." 
 
 "Yes, you love me," replied Vanda, "but some- 
 how it doesn't seem the same," she added, with deep 
 regret in her voice. 
 
 "Oh, you'll soon be better, and then it will appear 
 just the same," said Fanny cheerfully. "And now 
 I shall wish you good-bye until to-morrow, when I 
 will call again, if I may." 
 
 Vanda smiled, and Fanny kissed her again, and 
 from that night a very deep friendship arose between 
 the two a friendship which was to make life very 
 pleasant for Vanda after the shadows which had 
 marred it for so long. 
 
 Later that night Tom, full of anxious love for his 
 dead sister's child, tried his best to find out from 
 Vanda what trouble lay upon her mind, and her 
 reason for supposing her brother's love to be altered ; 
 but to all his inquiries she only replied, 
 
 " It is different ; there is something come between 
 us. It can never be the same." 
 
 Vanda did not tell her uncle what that sad " some- 
 thing" was, but she knew, poor child, that the de- 
 gradation of their training together the hardships 
 and punishments which they had undergone in each 
 other's presence had caused a natural 'shyness to 
 arise between them, and the memory of those days 
 would do away for ever with the old familiar and 
 innocent love.
 
 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 297 
 
 True brotherly and sisterly affection, deep and 
 lasting, would always exist between them, but alas ! 
 the early love was gone, degradation had ruined 
 that ; it could not return if it would. 
 
 To how many other girls now training in mixed 
 troupes of men and boys, does this terrible feeling 
 of "something" gone arise to them. As to Vanda, 
 that something means loss of the purity and sweet- 
 ness of girlhood, and of that priceless gift of modesty 
 which dies for ever in those poor hapless girls whose 
 limbs are daily distorted and bent into unnatural 
 shapes by brutal and coarse masters. 
 
 Oh, the misery and sin of a system which permits 
 young girls to suffer such terrible pain so that the 
 people may take their pleasure. 
 
 It exists to-day, to-morrow it is going on novf. 
 
 And will the people dare still to plead ignorance? 
 
 Very likely.
 
 2 g8 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 DEATH UNSEEN. 
 
 CASTELLI left Whanks and strode down to the circus, 
 prepared to deal with Cleo as she fully deserved. 
 
 He knew he should find her there. 
 
 His passion was fearful, it raged within him like 
 an angry sea, and maddened him with its giant 
 power. He was ready to spring upon his prey with 
 all the fury of his fierce nature, for Cleo had de- 
 ceived him, lied to him for the gratification of her pas- 
 sion, and he had been her lover. These truths filled 
 him with rage. Terrible he looked, with flashing 
 eyes, his strong feelings magnified to desperation as 
 he confronted her practising in the ring. 
 
 She saw him coining, and she advanced to meet 
 him with a bright smile. She knew Castelli had a 
 faint suspicion that she had helped Horrox to pro- 
 cure the children, but there had been no facts to es- 
 tablish any actual evidence against her, and only 
 once during the voyage home had he alluded to 
 Mrs. Le Sale's letter, and then he had said, 
 
 " I believe you know more of this than you choose 
 to admit; but I shall find it out, cost what it 
 may." 
 
 Now he had seen Whanks, she thought, more than 
 likely Horrox had "split," "for he was always a 
 coward, "said Cleo to herself, remembering his fright 
 when Leila had taken out a summons against him. 
 " He hadn't the pluck to go to the court and deny 
 the whole thing."
 
 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 
 
 299 
 
 He stood facing her ; she was alone, for the circus 
 was deserted, but she did not flinch from his glitter- 
 ing eyes, which flashed upon her full of hate and 
 scorn. 
 
 She knew her game was up, she read her fate in 
 his wrath, which was reflected in his trembling voice, 
 in the clenching of the hands, in the livid workings 
 of his white, set face. 
 
 She drew herself quite erect and looked at him 
 calmly. Grand in her splendid beauty, she never 
 quailed ; but there was a light in her lustrous eyes 
 which spoke of revenge hiding beneath their depths, 
 of some baffled strife which might wake suddenly and 
 crush with its force the might and mystery of life. 
 
 She was prepared for the battle. She had no 
 terror of the furious man before her, even when his 
 anger came towering upon her with relentless fury, 
 like the autumn boreas which carries all before it, 
 blustering, hurrying, rushing, booming on its way. 
 She smiled like the bright ray which shines when the 
 storm has gone. It suited her to suppress her wrath 
 until his had burst and passed away. 
 
 She might appease him once more. She could not 
 lose him for ever. 
 
 "You impostor! you liar! you cheat!" at last 
 came from his opening lips. " I've found you out, 
 you false hypocrite ! It was you, was it, who 
 planned the dastardly act of taking my children from 
 the home I chose for them ? I understand now why 
 you persuaded me to part \vith them to Le Sale. It 
 was the first step in your fiendish design, the first 
 step, I say, towards having revenge on my dead 
 wife. You and your brutal lover thought to baffle 
 me with your devilish lies, but the hour of reckon- 
 ing is at hand. I'll set sleuth-hounds on his track. 
 He shall be done to death ! " he cried in his violent 
 excitement. 
 
 She made no reply, and this provoked him to 
 frenzy, and he continued furiously,
 
 300 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 " You who have pretended to love me, you who 
 came grovelling to my feet, you fiend ! you she-devil I 
 what have you to say ? " he cried, distraught with 
 passion. 
 
 The vigour of his vehement speech did not take 
 her by surprise. She knew of the temper which so 
 often distorted his fine face and made him a terror 
 to those in his power. At such times she expected 
 no softening in his humour. He was too desperate, 
 too insulting to listen to reason. But she was not 
 prepared to give him up. She must win him back 
 to her side. His displeasure must be removed from 
 her, so she said sweetly, 
 
 " You are too hard upon me, Castelli. Listen to 
 me/' and she moved a few steps nearer to him, but 
 he waved her back rapidly, as if her presence stung 
 him into unbounded hate. 
 
 " Stay where you are. Don't come a step nearer," 
 he cried. " I loathe the sight of you." 
 
 " No, no, Castelli, you don't. Love can't change 
 like that. You're making a deal more of it than you 
 need. The precious children are alive and well," 
 she said, trying to modify his anger. 
 
 " Love, don't talk to me of love! Curse you and 
 your love ! They might have died for all you cared, 
 you she-devil ! I know how you intercepted letters 
 and papers, and kept Le Sale's death a secret, so that 
 your cowardly plans could be carried out to revenge 
 yourself on my wife. You and Horrox are devils 
 devils ! " he thundered. 
 
 " I deny it all," replied Cleo quietly. 
 
 " Don't lie to me, or by heaven I'll do for you ! 
 Why, you received money from that villain for help- 
 ing him. Can you deny that?" asked Castelli with 
 an oath. 
 
 " Who told you I received money?" asked Cleo 
 uneasily, wondering how that part of the bargain 
 had transpired. 
 
 Castelli's brow darkened, his eyes flashed angrily.
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 301 
 
 " Who told me ? Why, your dastardly lover. He 
 put the blame on you when his own neck was in 
 danger, the cur. But if I can find him I'll kill him 
 with one stroke, and you after him," he said with 
 violence. 
 
 " That would be murder, Castelli ; you can't mean 
 that ? " said Cleo. 
 
 " Murder is too good for either of you, "he added, 
 " I shall go and search for him, and his fate will be 
 death. I shall stab him through and through for 
 for Leila's sake." His voice grew more quiet as 
 he uttered the dead wife's name. 
 
 " Castelli, do be quiet ; you are going a sight too 
 far. It is simply absurd to talk like that. What I 
 did was to save you worry. I did for them as if I 
 were their mother, you " 
 
 In a moment he strode up to her and caught her 
 arm roughly, shaking her with brutal force. 
 
 " You, like their mother !" he hissed. " You, a 
 scheming woman," and he flung her from him, " a 
 woman with as many lovers as days in the year. 
 She was good and pure, whilst you are as bad as the 
 devil can make you," he said frantically. 
 
 " You didn't treat her as if she was such a treasure," 
 replied Cleo with sarcasm, for she was angry now, 
 but she kept her temper under control. 
 
 He put out his hand to deal her a terrible blow. 
 She saw the action, and evaded it quickly, saying, 
 
 " I am going, until you are less mad and can 
 behave not quite like a fool or a lunatic." 
 
 "Oh, no, you are not; I haven't done with you 
 yet Look here," and he lowered his voice and spoke 
 slowly and remorselessly, " you have longed after 
 my love for years, you took it freely when I had a 
 wife, you would take it to the end, but but from 
 this day forth you dare to darken my steps and I'll 
 shoot you as I would a dog. I've done with you. 
 You've been confoundedly jealous of 'Darkie,' well, 
 I am going to make her my wife, and if I catch you
 
 302 
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 dogging me about I'll put a bullet through your 
 heart Now, get off, and never you come near me 
 again. Be off, I say ! " he cried wrathfully. 
 
 He had touched her at last, he knew how jealous 
 she was, and it pleased him to probe the wound he 
 had made. 
 
 "You are going to marry 'Darkie' the rider?" 
 she asked, her face flushing. " Well, I hope you 
 will be happy," as a strange look overspread her 
 features. 
 
 A change had come over her face; it was not 
 yearning love, it was not despair. 
 
 What was it? 
 
 " You are a brute and a savage," she replied, and 
 then she turned and left him. 
 
 The next day she went again to the circus to seek 
 Castelli. He might be there, for both of them had 
 been engaged for the season. 
 
 " I'll give him another chance one more only 
 one, "she murmured. 
 
 Her plans were ready, and she intended to put 
 them into effect without delay. She watched him 
 from a safe distance, and she saw him enter a 
 dressing-room where he had left his overcoat and 
 stick. 
 
 In a moment she followed him. 
 
 "Castelli!" 
 
 His face darkened, his passion rose again when 
 he saw her there. Beautiful but evil she looked 
 standing before him with her long artistic cloak 
 clinging around her shapely form. 
 
 " You here again ! Do you want me to shoot you? " 
 he asked, speaking rapidly. 
 
 " Answer me one question, Castelli, and we shall 
 never trouble each other again." Her eyes grew 
 fixed on his face as she continued : " Are you going 
 to marry ' Darkie ' ? Is it all over between you and 
 me ? " she said slowly, never moving her eyes from 
 his face.
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 303 
 
 " Yes, we are strangers for ever. Go, woman, 
 begone ! " and he glared at her fiercely. 
 
 "Are you going to marry 'Darkie'?" she per- 
 sisted. 
 
 " Yes," he replied. 
 
 " Do you mean that? " 
 
 " Yes. Get out of my way, you brazen devil ! " 
 
 " You mean that too?" Her voice quivered with 
 suppressed passion and excitement. She went close 
 up to him, so near that he could see her agitation. 
 
 " Will you be gone, or by heaven I'll do for you 
 in another minute," he stormed. 
 
 Still she kept her eyes fixed on him, but her hand 
 moved stealthily trom behind her cloak. There was 
 a glitter of steel a white arm raised a groan a 
 stream of blood a voice full of mad impulse, cry- 
 ing, 
 
 " You shall never marry 'Darkie,' my man; 
 you're done for now." 
 
 She had plunged the knife deep into his chest. 
 She knew he must die. 
 
 Castelli staggered, then fell to the ground heavily. 
 
 He put his hand to the wound to try and staunch 
 the crimson blood which flowed more rapidly. 
 
 With one wild effort he tried to wrench the knife 
 from his chest, gasping, 
 
 " Help ! help ! I am stabbed." 
 
 But he could not move it, Cleo had done her work 
 too well ; and so the blood flowed out of the hideous 
 wound. He grew faint, and at last he lay uncon- 
 scious and ghastly on the floor. 
 
 Half-an-hour later he was found by a horror-stricken 
 groom, just breathing and that was all. 
 
 "Cleo has stabbed me," he managed to whis- 
 per at last. 
 
 The police were sent for, and then Castelli repeated 
 the charge against her, a look of hate stealing over 
 his white face at her name. After the police and 
 doctors had seen him he was removed very tenderly
 
 304 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 to the manager's office and placed on a sofa. They 
 all felt the hand of death was upon him. 
 
 There he lay, the victim of a foul deed. All the 
 fury had died from his face. The dews of death were 
 fast gathering on his brow. More handsome he 
 looked ebbing out his strength than he ever did in 
 life. 
 
 His eyes were closed. There was silence in the 
 room. No one dared to speak when the hour of 
 death was at hand. 
 
 Whanks, who had been hastily summoned, sat by 
 his side. The doctors, the manager, and one or two 
 performers stood about the room, all of them dazed 
 and grieved that such things should happen in their 
 midst. 
 
 Castelli opened his eyes and murmured, 
 
 " Whanks I want to speak to you alone," 
 he gasped feebly. 
 
 Castelli's wish was made known, and the men went 
 out softly and closed the door, and then Whanks bent 
 over Castelli to catch his last words. 
 
 " Ask her brother to take care of my children 
 you will see to that promise." 
 
 " I will," said Whanks solemnly, overcome, and 
 much distressed to see his old master dying by a 
 woman's hand. 
 
 Castelli lay silent for a few minutes, breathing 
 hurriedly, and then he murmured, 
 
 " The horses must be sold for the children 
 
 and the money in " But the next words were 
 
 lost, and Whanks replied, 
 
 " Don't worry, sir, I will see to everything; the 
 children will never want." 
 
 He looked up, and something like a smile passed 
 over his face ; but he could not speak his gratitude. 
 
 Suddenly he seemed to revive somewhat, and then 
 he murmured, 
 
 " I can see Leila down by the sea the wind 
 blows the rock is nearly covered I must save
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 305 
 
 her." Then his thoughts wandered to their wedding 
 day. " You are mine, Leila I will love you for 
 ever how dark it grows Whanks are you there ? 
 Leila " 
 
 He gasped heavily twice, and then Whanks knew 
 that the great shadow of death had fallen on Cas- 
 telli. 
 
 But there were no angels waiting to take him to 
 the realms where Leila had gone long before. 
 
 o o 
 
 In sin he had lived, in loneliness he died. 
 
 When the officers of the law went to arrest Cleo 
 they found her cold and dead. 
 
 An empty glass, a phial by its side, marked "poi- 
 son," told the oft-repeated but silent tale. A scrap of 
 paper, crumpled in her death agonies, was found 
 in her hand. On it was written : 
 
 " I was with you in life I am with you in death. 
 Only ' Darkie' is left behind, and that is well. 
 
 " CLEO." 
 
 A motley crowd gathered at the cemetery. The 
 curious and the vulgar saw the body of the murder- 
 ess lowered in silence ; only the thud of the earth 
 falling on the coffin as it was lowered gratified the 
 lookers-on. But the words of the burial service were 
 hastily read over her victim's last resting-place, and 
 then the people went their way. There was nothing 
 more to see. 
 
 But there were no tears shed, no flowers left on the 
 newly turned mould. 
 
 Unhallowed, unblessed, unloved they lay. 
 
 Such is the curse of sin. 
 30
 
 306 SLA VES OF THE SA IVDUST. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 FINALE. 
 
 IT was a lovely spring- morning in the early May 
 time. There was happiness everywhere, the joyous 
 birds carolled forth their bright spring- notes, the robin 
 trilling with all his might from the branches of the 
 great walnut tree, and in the copse hard by the lin- 
 nets twittered and flew about merrily in the warm 
 sunshine, and the quivering larks rose from the grass 
 in the fresh meadows, each and all offering a tribute 
 of thankfulness to the profuse springtime. The bees 
 hummed with a pleasant murmur among the new- 
 born flowers and on the blossom laden trees, and the 
 air was full of the fragrance of the growing vegetation 
 and the bursting buds. 
 
 Nature wassublime, truly heaven and earth rejoiced, 
 for is not the verdant spring the brightest time of all 
 the year, more beautiful, more enchanting because 
 the cold and mournful winter has past and gone. 
 Surely the most placid must have some love for 
 nature in her supreme moment? But to those who 
 are rapt in wonder by her changing seasons May 
 must be the greatest pleasure that life can give 
 throughout the living year. 
 
 May tells of coming hopes and joys ; it brings the 
 happy summer tide, and adorns the landscape with 
 brilliant lustre and light. The voice of the cuckoo 
 seems to ring a welcome from the woods, as if to say : 
 " I've come, I've come with the joyous months. 
 With me are the green sward, the pale primrose, 
 the tender anemone, the buttercup, and the golden
 
 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 
 
 307 
 
 daffodil. Rejoice whilst the youth of the year is with 
 you ! " 
 
 Nowhere did the glorious sunshine cast its rosy 
 blushes more brightly than over a certain old manor 
 house, nestling in the heart of the country. It rested 
 upon its ivied chimneys and upon its well-kept lawns 
 and fine old garden, and enjoying the brilliance were 
 Vanda and Adrian. Two years had sped since their 
 father was laid in his lonely grave, but to the children 
 the time had passed very happily. Tom had in- 
 tended adopting both children, but Whanks would 
 not hear of such an arrangement ; and finally, when 
 he was persuaded to occupy certain rooms in the 
 house with Mr. and Mrs. Tom, the care and expense 
 of Adrian's education was left, at his desire, to him. 
 
 On this sunny May morning the brother and sister 
 were walking together for the last time for a long 
 year. Adrian was going to Rome to study art ; the 
 long-desired ambition of his young life was about to 
 be realised, and he was as full of hope as the spring 
 day. 
 
 "Here come all the rest," said Vanda, and they 
 stood on the lawn to wait. 
 
 A strange group they looked. The tall fragile figure 
 of Vanda, the eager, restless boy, the blunt, white- 
 haired Whanks, and the smiling Tom and his wife, 
 all gathered together to make Adrian's last day at 
 home a very pleasant one. 
 
 Through much trouble happiness had at last 
 crowned their lives, and each felt that spring day 
 how deep should be their gratitude. 
 
 The little group on the lawn disappears from view, 
 the spring and summer has fled, and many more 
 have come and gone, until it is May time again. 
 The old house is gay enough to-day, people hurry 
 hither and thither, the bells from the ivied tower 
 ring out a merry peal, and the villagers stand in 
 little bands to watch for the bride. 
 
 Vanda Castelli has given her fresh young woman-
 
 308 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 
 
 hood to the care of James Herepath, and her brother, 
 Castelli, the great artist, the idol of princes and 
 people, had come from Rome to wish her God- 
 speed. 
 
 And so she left the home which had guarded her 
 so long, and with her maid Sally, now dignified with 
 the name Sarah, entered upon a new life, with a 
 fond husband by her side. 
 
 Whanks went out to America after Vanda's mar- 
 riage, but before he went he told Tom the secret 
 of his life. 
 
 "The man who ruined your life and Miss Leila's, 
 the villain Herbert Clifford, was my brother. To 
 make up for his dastardly crime I have devoted my 
 life to those she left behind. There is no need for 
 me now, so I shall start once more, and feel at rest 
 I have done what I could." 
 
 And so the curtain falls on those who have suf- 
 fered, sinned, and died, and upon those who lived to 
 rejoice. 
 
 There we must leave them.
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 309 
 
 CHILD LABOUR. 
 
 ONCE more I have eschewed conventualism, and 
 dared to put forth further details of some circus and 
 acrobat life. I have not dealt with the pseudo-ro- 
 mantic in it, but have brought forth facts in many 
 chapters which have actually occurred. 
 
 Fearlessly I am grappling with an unsuspected 
 source of suffering, trusting in time to gain practical 
 reform, and to save those who are at this present 
 moment training under a secret and hideous system. 
 
 There is little doubt that the disclosures made in 
 Ruby and in Slaves of the Sawdust will sooner or later 
 stir the public mind, and cause a demand for some 
 simple but effective supervision during apprentice- 
 ship. For instance, the Act which protects children 
 in our factories could be modified and extended to 
 protect children in the " show " business. 
 
 Putting aside the evil of such training and the 
 hardships of the life, there is another phase to be dis- 
 cussed, which in a sense is more degrading, more 
 contrary to humanity then even the cruelties prac- 
 tised on helpless girlhood by some mercenary mas- 
 ters, who force them to do feats which even tax 
 the powers of male athletes. I allude to the iniqui- 
 tous system of men waxing rich upon child labour. 
 A certain class, who train girls for the ring, trapeze, 
 as acrobats, or for " highshows" and such like, live 
 in luxury, entirely on the money earned by their 
 young apprentices. It is the sad, overworked chil- 
 dren who bring large salaries weekly to their mas-
 
 3io 
 
 SLAVES OF THE SAWDUST. 
 
 ter's pocket. Is it likely that he takes infinite pains 
 to train them for their arduous feats excepting for 
 his own selfish gains ? It is no exaggeration to say 
 openly that the master who thus trains is nothing 
 less than a mere dealer in human flesh. There is 
 not one iota of difference between the bland, smiling 
 man who nightly introduces his weary apprentice to 
 the public, and the slave dealers in the Eastern 
 markets, for each amasses wealth from the unpaid 
 labour of helpless fellow-creatures. 
 
 What is the remuneration during their long ap- 
 prenticeship for these children who are so rigorously 
 taught, that they may give passing pleasure to a 
 thoughtless multitude ? Food, which is usually of 
 the best, so that their strength shall be sufficiently 
 supported ; clothes, both warm and comfortable 
 for would not chills and sickness ruin the show, 
 and the master be the greater loser? and some of 
 the more generous occasionally give their apprentices 
 a few shillings for pocket money. 
 
 This is all, for seven or ten weary years ay, 
 fifteen years in some cases whilst they are earning 
 large salaries for their exacting proprietors. Alas ! 
 for the workers there are few rewards. Yet as in 
 every other occupation there are valuable prizes 
 ready for those who have stamina and ability, but 
 how many of all apprentices gain the prizes ? 
 
 What the public should insist upon is registration, 
 a periodical census of the numbers of apprentices 
 and the number of those who are in the profession at 
 the age of thirty years. More important still, the 
 people should know what has become of the absen- 
 tees. By this means it would be easy to trace how 
 many were worked out at the end of their appren- 
 ticeship, and how many left the profession in dis- 
 gust. It has been said to me by more than one per- 
 son, "Is it likely a master will part with a valuable 
 apprentice because the term of indenture expires ? " 
 My reply is, that these men, with honourable excep-
 
 SLA VES OF THE SA WDUST. 3 1 j 
 
 tions, know perfectly well that their pupils would 
 not remain with them, because the master could not 
 afford to pay his late apprentice salaries equal to the 
 amounts he, or she, has earned for him. Again, as 
 these men live on unpaid labour, they arrange to 
 have other apprentices following on to replace those 
 who are out of their time. 
 
 As a rule the responsibility of training does not lie 
 with the proprietors and managers who engage 
 'shows," for the entertainment of their patrons. 
 Whatever their moral responsibility, there are few 
 who trouble to inquire how the members of any par- 
 ticular troupe were brought to such perfection as to 
 justify engagements at high salaries, or care that 
 the sooner the hapless apprentice can earn for his or 
 her master, the better for him. Quick perfection is 
 the desideratum, so to that end the trainer works 
 them morning, noon, and night. 
 
 Is it right that men should be allowed to live on 
 child labour and eat the bread gained by so much 
 suffering? Is it just that trembling children and 
 growing girls should be slaving in the heat and glare 
 of crowded circuses and music-halls night after night 
 in all our great cities, and so that their masters may 
 reap the harvest of severity ? 
 
 "No! no ! " the people cry with one voice, but 
 they forget that it is the morbid taste of an inconsid- 
 erate public which is the cause of the evil, for it 
 demands more and more difficult feats, and sad 
 though it be, so long as there is a demand in the 
 market, the supply will be forthcoming, as surely as 
 in other commodities. 
 
 The men who are so degraded as to live on the 
 earnings of childhood are not those from whom we 
 can expect mercy while preparing the victims of 
 their greed. 
 
 What will men not do for gain ? 
 
 Before concluding, I wish to mete out justice to
 
 3 1 2 SLA VES OF THE SA WD UST, 
 
 those in the profession who rightly deserve to be 
 exonerated from blame, and to whose names no 
 stigma can be attached. There are many such who 
 have given me valued assistance in my work, who 
 have stood by me in the fight, and who are ready 
 now to support my efforts. To them I give my 
 heartiest thanks. 
 
 "Ah, yet, tho' all the world forsake, 
 
 Tho' fortune clip my wings, 
 I will not cramp my heart, nor take 
 Half views of men and things." 
 
 TENNYSON. 
 
 THE END.
 
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