Out of the wreck I rise

< < , i "->* * •* • '• e"

Out of the Wreck
I Rise

By BEATRICE HARRADEN

AUTHOR OF "SHIPS THAT PASS IN THE NIGHT"

"KATHARINE FRENSHAM," "INTERPLAY"
ETC.

" Out of the wreck I rite,
past Zeus, to the Potency o'er him."

R. BROWNING, "Ixion."

THOMAS NELSON AND SONS
LONDON, EDINBURGH, DUBLIN
LEEDS, MELBOURNE, AND NEW YORK

LEIPZIG :35-3r KSnigstrasse. PARIS: 189, rue Saint-Jacques

First Published in 191*

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

PART I.

CHAPTER I.

A BRIAN STEELE sat in his office in Brick
Court thinking. He had during the past
two weeks received two letters which had caused
him much annoyance and anxiety. A third one,
which had just come to hand, added to his dis-
turbance. He took them all now from a drawer,
and read them through, consecutively. They
ran thus : —

" DEAR STEELE, — With reference to the tour of
The Invaders, how many performances did we
play in Birmingham ? — Yours faithfully,

" R. S. HAILSHAM."

" DEAR STEELE, — You say six performances in
Birmingham. I have, however, been in com-
munication with the manager of the c Royalty,'

26 329083

4 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

who says we played seven. Can you explain
this ? — Yours faithfully, R. S. HAILSHAM."

" DEAR STEELE, — Your answer is not satisfactory.
You will hear further from me on the subject of
the royalties on my plays. I am not satisfied with
my returns, and am investigating the matter for
myself. — Yours faithfully, R. S. HAILSHAM."

Adrian Steele frowned as he restored the letters
to the drawer, and locked it. He leaned back
in his chair and faced the prospect opened out
by those few simple sentences in the third letter.

" Yes," he said aloud ; " this means my
eventual humiliation unless I am able to handle
this man adroitly, and thus stem the tide of
further investigations. If I remember rightly,
I calculated that, all told, I've kept back about
£15,000 from John Noble, £6,000 from Sanford,
from Cecil certainly £4,000, and from this new
fellow Hailsham about £1,700. Inappreciable
amounts from lesser fry, too. Total, about
£28,000. A fortune. And well earned, too,
over and above my commission."

He rose impatiently, and walked up and down
his luxurious room.

"Well earned, I repeat and maintain it," he
said, as though to an accuser. "Without me,

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 5

those men would never have come into their own.
And if I chose to take my full payment for
services, partly in percentage and partly in — in
this way, it was my own affair."

He added after a pause, by way of explanation :
" 1 mean that, mentally, I was more than justified.
Morally, I of course admit that 1 have no case."

He stood before a picture of the snow peaks of
the Bernese Oberland, and seemed for the moment
spellbound by the magic of the mountains which
he dearly loved.

"Well, whatever happens, I must see the
mountains once more," he said, half to himself.

His frail and small frame drooped ; his arms
hung listlessly ; his chest shrank away ; his clever
and keen face became curiously passive. But sud-
denly, with a determined gesture, he gathered
himself together, and an almost boyish smile trans-
formed his gloom of countenance into an amazing
radiance. It was obvious that this man was a born
fighter, delighting in the prospect of a fray.

" And after all," he said aloud, " life was getting
just a little dull. Prosperity is dull if taken in
continuous overdoses. Dull and deadening. One
sees that all round. One needs crises. Well,
this is a crisis."

At that moment his telephone bell rang. He
answered the summons.

6 OUT OF THE WRECK 1 RISE.

" Is that you, Steele ? " the voice said. " It's
I, Noble. I want particularly to see you about
something. Coming round to your office to-
morrow morning. Shall you be in at twelve ? "

"Yes," Adrian Steele answered. "But why
trouble to come here ? I'll come to your house
as usual. Twelve o'clock sharp."

" No," the voice said. " Prefer to come to you
on this occasion. Twelve o'clock. Good-bye."

"Prefer to come to you on this occasion" Adrian
Steele repeated as he went to his desk. "Now
that's quite unusual. I've never known Noble
to say that before. Has some rumour reached
him ? Has Hailsham been putting him on the
track ? "

For a long time he sat pondering over the
whole matter, trying to find some solution to the
problem presented to him, and tracing out, for his
own guidance, the successive steps of subterfuge
and deception which had led up to this crisis in
his affairs. How was he to meet it ? What
means should he take of throwing dust in the
eyes of Noble, Sanford, and Cecil ? How could
he satisfy this upstart Hailsham that the shortage
of payment to which he referred, was due merely
to this cause or that cause, and that the deficit
was only temporary ? He racked his brains and
thoroughly enjoyed the mental gymnastics. DifH-

OUT OF THE WRECK 1 RISE. 7

culties had always stimulated him. He was
stimulated now. But it struck him that he
needed advice. It was not that he felt himself
bereft of ideas. Far from that. It was merely
that he believed an outside opinion, from some one
of a different mental outlook, might have a useful
modifying influence on his intellectual impulses
and methods.

To what friend should he turn ? In other
circumstances he would have submitted the matter
to Noble. Noble, in this instance, was of course
unavailable. To a lawyer friend ? No, inadvisable,
and probably quite futile. To Grace, his wife r
No, certainly not to her. The last person in the
world whom he could profitably consult. Her
code of honour would recognize no differentiations
of wrong-doing, and her mind would be incapable
of offering any wise and useful suggestions.

His thoughts travelled back to friends of former
days. He recalled Nell Linstead, now Mrs.
Silberthwaite. She would have understood : not
because her code of honour was fundamentally less
strict than his wife's, but because she, as he well
knew, took a large view of life ; and although she
would grieve over his conduct, yet she would
realize that the circumstances had offered great
opportunity to the temptations of his tempera-
ment, and she would judge him accordingly, and

8 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

not turn from him in horror and alarm. And
Tamar Scott would have understood, for the
simple reason that her mind ran on the same lines
as his own.

A sudden craving came over him to see them
both. It was years since he had spoken to either
of them. They belonged to that period of his life
when, in order to acquire a settled habit of mental
ascendancy, he was deliberately practising mastery
over any one with whom he chanced to come in
contact. Nell Linstead and Tamar Scott had been
unfamiliar types to him, and he had taken special
interest in watching each of them, so different
from the other, pass gradually under the spell of
his personality. He wearied, first of Nell, and
then of Tamar, and passed on callously to another
phase in his complex life. Physically he had been
blameless in his relations with them ; but he knew
that psychically he had been guilty. He had
wrought havoc in their minds, emotions, and
passions. He remembered Nell's last words to
him : " 'But I shall recover my pride, my independ-
ence of spirit, my liberty of mindy my joy in life — all
this shall come back to me and in full measure — in spite
of you"

He heard her voice ; he saw her noble presence ;
he remembered her fine idealism ; he renewed his
remorse of having tried to injure her in any way

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 9

whatsoever ; he longed to ask her pardon, even
at the eleventh hour. Yes, he would go and see
her, now, this very moment, whilst the mood was
on him.

Would she refuse to receive him ? No, Tamar
might ; but Nell, no. He decided to go to Nell.
He had more or less followed her career. She
had for some long time been devoting herself to
the problems of the poor, and had, with others,
helped to found the Society for the Abolition of
Sweated Labour. He knew that she was honorary
secretary of this Society, and indeed the heart and
brain of the whole movement. He also knew
that she had married Rupert Silberthwaite, a dis-
tinguished engineer, and that she had been widowed
two or three years after her marriage ; and he
had heard that she was using her independent
means entirely for this chosen work of her life,
and by her enthusiasm and determination had
succeeded in making the Society into a powerful
body, which was gradually gaining support in all
directions. So that he did not feel that he was
going to a friend of former days whose intervening
life had been spent in separating scenes and
conditions. Nell had always been interested in
public service, and he himself had directed her
attention to some of the problems. A sense of
continuity rather than of renewal, therefore, stole

la

io OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

over him as he looked up the address of the
offices and started off without delay to Arundel
Street, Strand.

"When he entered the enquiry office, his mind
had gone back, without the least difficulty, to
twelve years ago. The actual surroundings were
strange to him, it is true ; but the atmosphere
was familiar, and a bright flash of memory lit up
his face.

A cheerful, brisk young woman, distinctly of
the Suffragette type, attended to him with a
pleasant manner of independence which had
nothing of aggressiveness in it.

" Can I see Mrs. Silberthwaite ? " he asked,
smiling at her with one of his curiously charming
quiet smiles.

" I am so sorry," she answered. " She has just
sent in the message that she did not wish to be
disturbed for two or three hours. She has had
a very hard day. We are up to our eyes in
work here. Could I perhaps make an appoint-
ment for you ? "

He shook his head.

"No," he said quietly. "I will sit here and
wait for two or three hours."

His appearance and his persistence impressed
little Joan Neville. Instinct told her that this
was not the sort of man to be kept waiting, and

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE, n

she resolved to take the risk of sending in his
card, so that Mrs. Silberthwaite might decide for
herself. She therefore asked for his card. He
took out a blank one, on which he wrote in a neat,
peculiar handwriting these few mysterious words : —

" Looking down on snow-white plains of
mountain mist caught with purple light. L. P."

The little clerk glanced at it when he handed
it to her, glanced at him and decided that he
was mad, and that she must not leave him alone.
But she showed no outer sign of her inner
conviction. She merely pressed the bell and
gave the card with her instructions to another
girl who answered her summons. She kept
a sharp little Suffragette eye on her lunatic, and
was prepared to use " ju-jitsu " if he made a
sudden attack on her. Nothing of the sort,
however, happened. He was immediately fetched
to see Mrs. Silberthwaite, and Joan Neville said
to herself, smiling over her work :

" A-ha ! A good thing I treated c Looking
down on snow-white plains, etc.,' in a suitable
manner ! "

Meanwhile the door closed on Adrian Steele,
and he found himself alone with Nell Silber-
thwaite.

" Nell," he said simply, and without any

12 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

preliminaries, " I had a great heart-hunger to
see you."

She stood looking at him, holding the card
in her hand. She was evidently very much
moved.

" Sit down,'* she said kindly, and he sat
down in silence.

For several minutes they neither spoke nor
moved. It was twelve years since they had
met, and they were busy with thoughts, memories,
and all those conflicting emotions, harmonious
strains and discordant notes stirred up by the
past. At last she opened a drawer and handed
him some cigarettes, and she herself took the
piece of embroidery which she had put down on
his arrival, and continued to work on a large
pomegranate. He watched her intently. It
was she at last who broke the silence.

" I had a curious dream about you last
night," she said. " I dreamed you had climbed
a steep mountain. And a fearful storm came
and cut off your retreat. I see you now with
my mind's eye — a little stubborn, self-contained
figure — inaccessible."

He made no comment on her words.

" Nell," he said, after another spell of quiet,
" I believe I have come to ask your forgiveness."

She glanced at him with a humorous little look.

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 13

"It isn't like your former self to ask for
any one's forgiveness," she observed. "Either
you've changed very much, Little Playmate, or
else you're feeling on the brink of the grave. I
wonder which it is ? "

A slight smile passed over his face at the
sound of his old name. But he vouchsafed
no answer, and said again in his persistent way
which she remembered so well :

" I believe I have come to ask for your
forgiveness."

"You have had it for many years," Nell
said gravely. " It took me a long time to
work myself free from hatred and bitterness,
but at last, thank goodness, I came out on the
other side, born anew and restored. And then I
was able to thank you for all the true benefits
1 had had from you. They stood out clearly,
Adrian, separated definitely from the injuries.
They stand out clearly now."

" I introduced you to Meredith's books," he
remarked. " I admit that was a great deal to do
for you."

" Yes," she said. « It was indeed."

"I believe I saved you from settling down
into an academic prig, out of touch with modern
conditions," he ventured teasingly.

" I deny that, entirely," Nell said with spirit.

i4 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

He laughed softly.

" I knew that would stir you up," he said.
"Well, let that pass. You are evidently not

one now."

She laughed too, in spite of herself.

"You've not changed much, after all," she
said. " So I can only conclude that you are
feeling on the brink of the grave."

" May I take the liberty of asking why you
forgave me so long ago ? " he said. " It was
like you, I admit. I always knew you had a
generous mind. But it would interest me to see
where your academic brain came in."

She paused for a moment.

"When I had reached the haven of im-
personality," she said, " my c academic brain '
looked into things clearly and realized that you
probably could not help yourself, Adrian, and
that you had been born with a consuming hunger
for power in some form, and with an extraordinary
talent for subterfuge. I understood better the
temptations arising from your natural mental
equipment. And I saw that the weakness in
my character had called forth the wrong strength
in yours. That's the whole thing seen in its
proper proportions after the passage of years."

He remained silent, but an expression of
sudden resolve and hopefulness lit up his

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 15

face. Yes, he could tell her his position. He
could lay the whole matter before her, and,
as he had anticipated, she would understand.
Her breadth of view alone would help her
— and him.

" I'm so thankful you haven't overreached
yourself, Adrian," she added impulsively. " I
knew, of course, that you were bound to make
a position for yourself. That was obvious.
Your cleverness and your persistence would
have carried you anywhere. But I was always
afraid lest you might get on to the quicksands.
For some mysterious reason which I could
never fathom, in spite of our estrangement,
I should have been woefully distressed if you
had gone under."

He got up from his seat, leaned against the
mantelpiece, and stared at the fire.

" I have gone under, Nell," he said at last.
"That's just what I have done. I've gone
under."

"Don't say that, don't say that," she said
in a voice which was charged with real pain.

" But it's the truth," he said, turning to her ;
and when he saw the expression of concern and
kindness on her face, he longed to tell her
everything. Could he tell her ? If he could
tell any fine, honourable person, he could tell

1 6 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

her, because she was great souled and great
hearted. He had felt that years ago, and he
felt it even more strongly now. Life and
experience had widened and not narrowed
her vision. This was the legend written clearly
on Neil's countenance for any one to read. He
read it now. Could he tell her ? Why not ?
It would be such a tremendous relief to him
if he could speak out. Why not ? He wanted
from her neither money, nor sympathy, nor
blame, nor condonation, nor exoneration. He
wanted chiefly to give way to the crying necessity
of his mind, and put it in touch with hers. Could
he tell her ? Could he overcome his shame ?
Could he conquer his natural reticence ? He had
never given his confidence to any one. His
reserve was part and parcel of his temperamental
deceitfulness. All through his life, if he could
have spoken to people, he could have broken
through an ever-thickening network of perfectly
unnecessary deceit. He struggled now, in this
hour of his great mental need. Standing there
in the presence of one in whom he wished to
confide, he fought a pitched battle with his
reticence — and was defeated. No, he could
not tell her. It was impossible. Nell, who
guessed at the conflict within him, knew also
that it was impossible.

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 17

He turned away from her, and began staring
at the picture of the snow peaks of the Bernese
Oberland hanging over the mantelpiece. He
had given it to her years ago. It was the
duplicate of the one in his own office.

"The same picture," he said. "My picture.
So you kept it, Nell. Yes, we always loved the
mountains, didn't we ? Do you remember
when I was in a particularly irritating mood,
how I used to annoy you by quoting those
words from { Childe Harold ' ? —

1 He who ascends to mountain tops shall find
Their loftiest peaks most wrapt in clouds and snow,
He who surpasses or subdues mankind,
Must look down on the hate of those below.
Though far above the sun of glory glow,
And far beneath the earth and ocean spread,
Round him are icy rocks, and loudly blow
Contending tempests on his naked head.' "

"Yes," she answered. "You used to spoil
the mountain peaks for me at such times."

"That was only because of your weakness
of character, Nell," he remarked. "A good,
a very good instance of your weakness of
character calling out the wrong strength in mine.
Your own words, you observe."

She smiled a little. It was exactly like him

1 8 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

to use her own words against herself. No, he
had not changed.

He read her thought and smiled too.

"All the same, I have changed," he said
challengingly. " Otherwise I could never have
humbled myself to ask for forgiveness. And
I am to understand that I have it absolutely
and imperishably ? "

"Yes," she repeated, "absolutely and im-
perishably. But I think you owe it to me to
explain why you suddenly come after twelve
years and ask for it."

"You always used to scorn explanations,"
he said. " c Explanation spells complication/
That was one of your learned phrases. I
recall it well."

She did not appear to hear him, but said
gravely :

" Has your coming anything to do with
your going under ? I merely borrow your own
expression. Of course, I don't know in the
least what you mean. But I beg of you to
explain to me."

Again he had the impulse to tell her, but
again his innate secretiveness overcame that
impulse.

" I can only make to you the same sort of
answers which the poor drunken derelicts make

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 19

to the questions of the magistrate," he said.
cc c Have you any explanation to offer ? ' asks
the magistrate. c No.' c Have you any friends
in court to speak for you ? ' c No.' £ Have you
anything at all to say ? ' * No, nothing except
that I'm sorry.' Nothing except that I'm sorry,
Nell."

The next moment he had gone.

CHAPTER II.

THE past, which we vainly believe we throw off,
held Nell in bondage. This man, Adrian
Steele, had come into her life years ago, wrecked
her outlook, checked her enthusiasms, tampered
with her ideals, and taken the joy out of the heart
of things and the very delight out of nature.
But, as she had told him, she could look back
now and realize with a fair-mindedness born only
of lapse of time, how in other ways he had dis-
tinctly ministered to her. He had kindled her
intellectuality to a livelier flame ; he had eased
the tension of her culture ; he had indicated
modern methods of expression and action to her.
Under his influence her powers of observation
had ripened, her judgment had widened, her
interests had expanded. His very persistence
of character, the driving force in him, the dogged
stubbornness of his nature had produced a healthy
and lasting effect on her own natural impatience.
Yes, she knew now that she owed a great deal
to him. If he were glad to have asked for
her forgiveness, she was equally glad to have

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 21

had the chance of paying him a tribute of gratitude.
But why had he come after all these years ? Why
should he suddenly ask for forgiveness ? What
did he mean by saying that he had ' gone under ' ?
Was it possible that he had overreached himself ?
Was he in some difficulty and had been led by
instinct to seek out an old friend ? She was
uneasy about him. He had brought his curious
charm with him out of the past, and she felt
once more a vague concern and responsibility
for his welfare. She wrestled with it.

" This is quite absurd," she said, remonstrating
with herself.

She gathered herself together and began writing
down the headings of a speech she was to make
the next day on Sweated Industries. But she
shook her head. She could not get on with
her subject. That little figure from the past
haunted her, and conjured up for her memories,
anxieties and apprehensions which were too in-
sistent to be carelessly disregarded. She was
seized with a longing to know more about his
present life and circumstances. She knew that
he had made a splendid career for himself as
a dramatic agent, and that he took charge of
the affairs of many of the leading dramatic authors
of the day. She knew where his offices were
in Brick Court. She had heard that he was

22 OU1 OF THE WRECK I RISE.

married, and that he had a little daughter. But
these were the only facts which had strayed to
her, and merely by chance. For when he had
tired of his influence over her, and had deliberately
impelled her to put an end to their comradeship,
which to him apparently had been a mere passing
friendship and to her a real and serious affair
of the heart, Nell, in her wounded pride, had
separated herself permanently from several people,
known to them both, in whom she was deeply
interested. Tamar Scott was one of them. Nell
had always been jealous of Adrian Steele's in-
timacy with Tamar, and Tamar had always been
jealous of his admiration for Nell. Yet they
had certainly liked each other, and in other
circumstances would probably have become firm
friends.

The memory of her suddenly took possession
of Nell. She longed to see her. She resolved
to go at once to Tamar and risk a rude reception.
She smiled as she recalled the first occasion on
which Adrian had taken her to the antique jewel-
lery shop in Dean Street. Tamar, sulky and
peculiar, and yet with a subtle, indefinable at-
tractiveness of her own, had received them and
given them tea in an inner room where she kept
all her choicest treasures, and where she mended
rare and delicate bits of china, and altered and

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 23

c faked* antique jewels of many sorts. Nell
saw now the half-reluctant amiability which she
conceded to Adrian Steele, and the almost rude
forbearance which she vouchsafed to herself. She
heard Adrian's voice saying :

" Don't take any notice of her manners. Tamar
keeps all her manners for minerals. You should
see her, for instance, in the Jermyn Street Museum,
worshipping emeralds in their matrix and rubies
in the rough. You wouldn't know her. Manners
for minerals only. No one else need apply."

Yes, she would go to Tamar. Even if Tamar
knew nothing about him now, it would at
least be some consolation to speak to some one
who, even as herself, had been intimate with
him in the past. She locked her desk, left in-
structions in the outer office, and hurried off
in an absent-minded way. The little Suffragette
clerk closed one bright eye and said to herself:

" Never knew Mrs. Silberthwaite to go home
so early. Something to do with c Looking down
on snow-white plains/ I expect ! "

Meanwhile Nell found herself outside Tamar's
shop, in which she had not set foot for many
years. She had passed it scores of times, but
had never once encountered Tamar face to face,
although she had often seen her in the distance,
and knew that she was still carrying on her

24 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

business in the same place. And there was her
name, shabbily painted as ever, " T. Scott, dealer
in antique jewellery ^ etc." Nell looked at the window
for a few moments, and then opened the door
and went in almost hesitatingly. A very old
woman, who was sitting in a corner behind the
counter, got up reluctantly, but did not leave
off knitting.

" Well ? " she asked in an uncompromising
tone of voice.

« Can I see Miss Scott ? " Nell asked.

" She said she didn't want to buy anything
of any one to-day," the old woman answered
gruffly.

"But I'm not wanting to sell anything," Nell
replied good-naturedly. " I wish to see Miss
Scott on a private matter."

The old woman, having taken a keen look
at Nell, touched a bell and retreated to her corner.
After a rather long delay Tamar Scott came
dreamily into the shop. When she saw Nell
Silberthwaite she scanned her without making
any sign of recognition or any attempt at courtesy.

" Tamar, you don't remember me," Nell said.

"Yes, I do," Tamar answered sulkily, and
she bent over the counter, fiddled with a little
Chelsea figure which stood there, and remained
silent. She appeared to be thinking, and in

OUT OF THE WRECK 1 RISE. 25

the process of thinking had evidently forgotten
her visitor. Suddenly she turned to the old
woman and dismissed her with a quiet but not
an unfriendly gesture.

" What is it you want ? " she asked of Nell
brusquely. " I am busy. I have no time for
visitors."

Nell smiled. She again heard Adrian's voice
saying :

"Don't take any notice of Tamar. She keeps all
her manners far minerals. No one else need apply."
Certainly her manners now were even more un-
compromising than before.

"What is it you want?" Tamar repeated.
" Please be quick and state your business."

" I had the impulse to come to you," Nell
said simply. "That's all. I wanted to speak
to some one who knew Adrian Steele."

" I have not seen him for nine years," Tamar
said, her face assuming a hard, set expression
directly she heard Adrian Steele's name.

" And I have not seen him for twelve years —
until to-day — this afternoon," Nell said.

"Until to-day," Tamar repeated. "And why
to-day ? "

"Ah, that's just what I don't know," Nell
repeated. "That's why I have taken the liberty
of coming here. I thought you might be able to

26 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

tell me something about him. I have a sort
of idea, Tamar, that he is in trouble."

"Well, why shouldn't he be?" Tamar re-
marked. " Most people are."

"You are right," Nell said, nodding her head.
" All the same, if I knew what his trouble was,
I should wish to stand by him."

There was a pause.

" So should I," Tamar said, turning her back
on Nell.

There was another pause. Nell leaned against
the counter staring sightlessly at a collection of
Battersea enamel snuff- boxes on a table by
themselves ; and Tamar, with her arms folded
tightly together and her back to her visitor,
closed her eyes and saw a vision of the past. The
thoughts of each woman were centred on the
man who at one time had been all the world
to each of them, in a different way, and who
had wrecked them both, each in a different way
also.

Tamar broke the long silence.

"Why should you think he was in trouble?"
she asked.

"He told me he had cgone under/" Nell
said. " He—"

"That's nothing. WeVe all gone under in
some form," Tamar interrupted.

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 27

" He asked me to forgive him," Nell continued.
" I am sure he would never have deigned to
ask any one's pardon unless he were in a state
of intense depression."

"No," Tamar admitted with a grim smile.
"There must be something wrong. Perhaps he
wants money. Most men come to women for
money."

" He was never that kind of man," Nell said
indignantly. "You do him an injustice."

Tamar shrugged her shoulders.

" Ah," she said, " 1 see you have not cured
yourself of what Adrian Steele used to call c your
morbid and -pathological craze for justice ' '

Nell smiled at the recollection, and even Tamar's
set expression of countenance relaxed to an easier
adjustment.

" However," she said, " I don't mind owning
that you are probably — "

The shop door opened, and a young clergyman
with a singularly interesting face came into the
shop, advanced to the counter, paused and glanced
nervously round.

" Probably in the right on this occasion," Tamar
continued, without taking any immediate notice
of the newcomer. " He wasn't that type. No,
you needn't go unless you want to. But perhaps
you'd better wait in the inner room."

28 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

As she spoke she touched the key which was
attached to a black ribbon hanging round her neck,
as though to reassure herself that she had locked
up the roller desk at which she repaired and
altered some of her antique jewellery. Then she
turned her attention to her client. She guessed
from long observation that he had something to
sell, and that he wanted the money badly. She
yawned, put on her patent look of indifference,
and watched him fumble at his coat pocket and
produce a small case, out of which he took a
lovely old silver crucifix set in rubies and pearls.
Her eyes sparkled at the sight of the jewels, for
quite apart from anything to do with business,
Tamar worshipped precious stones.

" I — I — want to sell this," he said with extreme
nervousness, " if — if I can get a good price for it."

Tamar stretched out her hand for it with a
steadiness which belied the agitation in her breast.
Her practised eye saw that it was a beautiful thing
of its kind — French, date probably about the
middle of the eighteenth century ; the pearls of no
value, but the rubies, Burmese, and finely cut, six
in number. Here was beauty, and here was
business too — very good business, the real name
for which was plunder. Tamar was always stim-
ulated by any prospect of plunder, not only for
the sake of accumulating money easily, but also

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 29

for the mental enjoyment of the scheming involved
in securing the plunder. Well, here was the
chance of plunder, and here was a clergyman.
She had always hated clergymen of all denomina-
tions. The situation, therefore, appeared to her
highly satisfactory. Up went her pulse, a light
came into her eyes, her heart beat with pleasant
excitation. She examined the crucifix silently for
several moments, which seemed as aeons to the
anxious young man waiting for the verdict.

At last she spoke.

" The rubies and pearls are very poor, especially
the rubies," she said in that dreamy poetical tone
of voice which she unconsciously used when she
was cheating. Tamar plundering was ever in her
most aesthetic mood, and she was therefore pursu-
ing her own form of art, her fine art, in fac.t,
brought to a high state of secret development.

" The crucifix itself is good/' she continued ;
"the date, 1 should say, about middle of the
eighteenth century. French workmanship."

" How can you know, I wonder ? " the clergy-
man asked, much impressed. " Yes, it is French,
and that is approximately the date."

"Of course it is," Tamar remarked severely.
" How do I know ? It's my business to know.
How do the astronomers know stars? How do
you know lost souls ? "

30 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

"Souls are never lost," the clergyman said
quietly, but with a slight flush on his face.

"Aren't they?" Tamar asked in indulgent
surprise.

" No," he answered quite definitely.

Tamar stared at him a moment, and resumed
her investigations.

" Very interesting design," she continued.
" Rim characteristic. Workmanship delicate.
Yes, I will buy it — for a small sum. As I re-
marked before, the stones are poor."

"I had always understood the rubies were
valuable," the clergyman said.

Tamar scrutinized them once more. She ap-
plied a magnifying-glass to them.

" Interesting from one point of view, because
specially well cut," she said slowly, " but unsatis-
factory from a market point of view. Too deep
in colour, and not free from flaws. I will give
you — let me see — four pounds — no — four guineas.
Four guineas."

" Oh, I can't sell it at that price," he said. He
was evidently much disappointed.

" Very well," she said, nodding her head ; and
without further comment she replaced the crucifix
in its case.

" I had always understood it was worth at least
£25," he said with great sadness.

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 31

<c Most people put an undue value on their
own possessions," she remarked dryly. " I don't
blame them. Mind, I don't say your crucifix
might not be worth £25 to any one who would
pay £25 for it. Only I don't care to chance" that,
you see. Lots of these things in the shop have
been here for years. This little lovely Chelsea
figure, for instance, 1 have had by me for ten
years. I shall sell it, perhaps, some day ; perhaps
never. Meanwhile I have to pay rates and taxes
and house rent. No one thinks of that. You
may get a pound or two elsewhere. I should
advise you to try. Others who have not already
got so much stock as myself may care to risk
more. 1 have stated what I care to risk. 1 admit
the figure is low, but I should not dream of
giving any more."

u Thank you," the young man said with a
grave smile. " Good afternoon. 1 am much
obliged to you for your explanation."

" Good afternoon," she said, and she watched
him go towards the door, obviously disheartened,
but not resentful. As a rule Tamar paid no
attention to people's dejection. She was accus-
tomed to it, and moreover she was, by nature,
proof against pathos. But the simple bearing
of this young fellow appealed in some curious way
to her kinder feelings. There was no trace in his

32 OUT OF THE WRECK 1 RISE.

manner of clerical superciliousness, and no faint
echo in his voice of clerical arrogance. The
dignity of spirit with which he accepted his dis-
appointment, struck her as being something which
she had never observed in others who had come
to her. Instinct told her that he was something
set apart ; though she could not have explained to
herself what she actually meant by this vague
description of him. Nevertheless this was how he
impressed her. She called him back. Perhaps
she allowed herself this impulse because the affair
had passed out of her hands ; for it was her rigid
business rule, which had been laid down by her
mother before her, never to alter the sum which
she offered, either in buying or selling. Her face
was a remarkable study at the moment. She was
annoyed with herself for having lost the chance
of securing those six crucifix rubies, and she was
half pleased with herself, half astonished with
herself for her unwonted attitude towards a
disappointed seller — a clergyman to boot.

"I am going to tell you something," she said,
leaning with her elbows over the counter. " I am
going to let you into a secret. Why, I don't
know. Now listen. This matter does not con-
cern me now. I've made my offer, and that's the
end of it, so far as I am concerned. But I'll give
you some good advice, more valuable than most

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 33

people's advice. If you want to get good money
for your crucifix, take the stones out and sell them
at one place, and the crucifix at another. They
are far more valuable separate, because they can't be
played off against each other. One dealer will tell
you that the silverwork is good and the stones
are bad."

" You told me that the stones were bad," he
interposed.

" Yes, I told you that the stones were bad," she
repeated slowly. "Another dealer will tell you
that the stones are good and the silverwork is bad.
Separate, each can claim a better value, especially
the rubies"

He stood staring at her with a perplexed look
on his face ; for all this was entirely out of his
scope. Still, he had a vague perception that this
woman was by nature hard and grasping, but that
she had been prompted spiritually to show him a
true service. As this thought became clearer to
him, the troubled expression of his countenance
faded away into that calm radiance which is often
seen on the face of those who have pierced into
the inner secret of spiritual life.

"You have indeed been kind to me," he said.
" And I thank you sincerely."

Without any further word he went towards the
door, but when there, paused, glanced across the

2

34 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

shop, seemed to include the whole surroundings
in one keen, comprehensive survey, and then
looked back at Tamar. He hesitated a moment,
coloured, fought with his shyness, and finally took
out a card. He handed it to her, and she saw
that it bore the name of the Rev. Richard Forest,
Herne Vicarage, Warwickshire.

" If I can serve you at any time," he said, " that
is my name and address. My little church has
one of the finest Norman fonts in England. I
am proud of it. I should like to show it to you
if you ever come that way."

She nodded indulgently, as though to a child,
and after he had gone, appeared to be caught in a
network of thought, from which she at last ex-
tricated herself with a sigh of relief and a shrug.

"All the same," she said aloud, "I am sorry I
lost those rubies."

CHAPTER III.

TV/TEANWHILE Nell Silberthwaite sat in the
little inner room where, in the old days,
she and Tamar Scott and Adrian Steele had often
taken tea together ; a curious party, and never a
genial one. For Tamar was not a gay companion,
but there had always been something attractive
about her very sulkiness, and when she was in
the mood she could be deeply interesting. If
they were lucky enough to get her on the subject
of precious stones, her face would light up and her
whole nature become kindled with interest and
excitement. Adrian knew how to awaken these
dormant possibilities in her. He would pretend
to criticize ruthlessly one of her finest gems,
possibly one of her rubies, rubies being her
passion, and thus having aroused the tigress in
her, would wait patiently until the outburst of
indignation had passed into a flood of enthusiasm.
Then she, at first all unawares, would open to her
listeners a treasure house of rare and fascinating
knowledge, which she closed with abrupt rudeness

36 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

when she realized that she was allowing others to
share her secret rapture.

Nell remembered this, and recalled the details and
difficulties of their three-cornered intercourse, and
the silent, deep-rooted jealousy which, as time
went on, grew up between herself and Tamar.
Yes, this little inner room with its enamels and
china, its silver, its miniatures, its jewellery, and its
two iron safes had been the scene of much fierce
though suppressed combat, and Nell, to her own
surprise and shame, found herself, after twelve
years, continuing that conflict with an intensity
which had not been diminished by the lapse of
time. She rose, and to get rid of her thoughts,
began looking at some of the miniatures and bits
of old brass hanging on the walls. Finally, her
eye caught sight of some beautiful pieces of old
china in Tamar's favourite corner cupboard, and
she was trying to see whether she could recognize
any of the cups and saucers familiar to her in the
past, when she suddenly noticed on the table hard
by, a book on precious stones. She took it up,
became engrossed in it, and was still intent on it
when Tamar joined her.

" A most interesting book," she said ; " and the
illustrations are really splendid. This one, for
instance, a Burma ruby. 1 don't think I ever
saw a more beautiful picture of a precious stone."

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 37

"Don't talk to me about rubies," Tamar
remarked curtly. "I don't wish to think of
them at present. I've just lost some beauties
through — well — through an error of judgment."

She unlocked her roller desk, sat down and
began doctoring an antique ring of rose topaz
set with three rows of beautiful pearls, medallion
shape. Nell watched her, and at the same time
feasted her eyes on the really lovely ring.

"The clergyman was poor," Tamar said after
a period of silence. " Well, a man of God should
be poor."

" Do you remember how Adrian Steele always
spoke of the clergy as if they had ceased to
exist ? " Nell said. " It always amused me how he
was able to banish from his world all the things
which he decided did not concern him personally."

Tamar nodded.

" Yes, that was one of his habits," she said, and
a slight smile stole over her face.

" But he was right about the clergy," she added.
" He merely anticipated their eventual doom. They
are dying out fast."

"They are making a struggle," Nell said.
" New types, you know."

"They are not clergy," Tamar said. "There
will have to be a new name. We don't call taxi-
cabs four-wheelers."

3 8 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

"No, but we put them all in the category of
conveyances designed to carry us from one place
to another," Nell said.

Tamar laughed softly.

"Do you mean that remark to include the
clergy also ? " she asked. " I must say I never
heard them described in those words. They are
words worthy of Adrian Steele. Well, we were
both his pupils, weren't we ? "

"Yes," Nell said. "And do you know I
only now begin to realize how much I owe to
him."

Tamar looked up from her work.

" He treated you badly, too," she said triumph-
antly.

" Yes," Nell said. " I admit it with all humility,
Tamar."

" I was glad at the time," Tamar said. " I was
always bitterly jealous of you. Here, in this very
room I suffered martyrdoms of jealousy."

"And I also suffered martyrdoms of jealousy in
this very room," Nell said.

"We were a couple of fools," Tamar said.
" That's what we were."

Nell was silent.

" I suppose you know that when he tired of
you — the modern product as he called you, he
turned to me," Tamar said. "And I was weak

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 39

enough to be caught in the toils from which you
had been allowed to escape."

"Yes, I knew," Nell said. "And one night,
Tamar — I recollect it was snowing hard — 1 stood
outside your door here, and had the impulse to
come in and beg you to free yourself before he
had the chance of humiliating you by wearying
of your love too, as he had wearied of mine.
But I remembered that in my own case, people's
well-meant advice had only made me more stub-
born. So I went away."

" Well, you did wisely," Tamar replied. " You
would have had colder comfort inside than out-
side.

" All the same," she went on, " I am rather glad
you wanted to help me. 1 have never disliked
you. But no one could have helped me. Nothing
could have helped me — except this."

She pointed to the book on precious stones.

" 1 wrote that book," she said proudly.

" You ? " Nell exclaimed in astonishment.

"Yes," she answered. "He thought that no
one could do anything without him. He told me
one day that I could never put a book of that sort
together. He said I was not clever enough to
make my fragments of information into a coherent
whole. Fragments of information ! I never forgot
that insult. You know how he used to discourage

40 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

one sometimes, and force one to depreciate one-
self, because he wished to pose as an indispensable
element in one's life and work."

Nell nodded. She remembered that well enough.
She had had her full share of that treatment.

" Well," Tamar continued, " I was determined
to show myself and him too that I could write
that book, and bring it out worthily. Oh yes,
it was a costly affair. But I assure you that, if
necessary, I would have spent my last shilling
on its production. It was my mental defiance
to him, and the confirmation to myself of my
own special abilities. It was the only thing
in the world which could have helped me to
pass on."

Her voice was low, but charged with intense
feeling, and her hands trembled a little as she
tried to go on with her work. Nell made no
comment on her words, but took the book once
more and turned over the pages with a sort of
reverence, inspired by an intimate understanding
of the stress and strain of spirit which she and
Tamar had suffered in common.

" Has he ever seen it ? " she asked gently. " I
hope so."

" I don't know," Tamar answered sullenly.

The shop bell rang and Tamar said :

" Perhaps you'll go. The old woman still falls

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 41

asleep over her tea. Nothing rouses her then.
I can't leave off fixing in this little pearl at this
moment."

Nell sauntered into the shop with Tamar's book
under her arm, and in the dim light of one gas
jet, saw a little man standing with his back turned
towards the door through which she had passed.
Even before he moved his position, she knew it
was Adrian Steele.

" Ah, Nell," he said quietly, as though he had
encountered her every day of his life in recent
years and accepted her presence in Tamar's shop
as a matter of course. " Is Tamar in ? "

"Yes," she answered smiling a little at his
characteristic coolness which had always amused
her. " Will you wait whilst I tell her ? Take a
look meantime at this beautiful book of Tamar's.
To use a favourite old word of yours, it is
superb."

She placed it deliberately in his hands and
lingered a moment trying to make the gas burn
more brightly, for the shop looked depressingly
dreary.

" Oh, I shouldn't bother," he said, watching her.
" Tamar was always famous for her dismal gas,
wasn't she ? Nothing human was ever able to
remedy it. And so this is her book. c Precious
Stones and Gems, their history, sources, and

42 OUT OF THE WRECK 1 RISE.

characteristics/ by T. Scott. I had heard of it.
I always meant to read it. But one gets swept off
in fresh directions."

He had taken the book near the gas, and
immediately became immersed in it. Nell, as she
went to fetch Tamar, heard him say :

"Ah, well, upon my word, that's rather good
for Tamar."

When Tamar heard the name of the newcomer,
she put down the rose topaz ring, and pondered
awhile.

" No, I don't wish to see him," she said at last.
" I have always considered the past an intolerable
nuisance. It was bad enough that you should
have come. But that he should have come too,
passes all endurance. Perhaps you knew he was
coming. I suppose you did, really."

"No, no," Nell denied. "I hadn't the least
idea. I should have told you. But I do think,
Tamar, that this double visit to us shows he must
be in some kind of trouble. It is most curious
that he should suddenly come to see us after so
many years. I do beg of you to receive him.
My first impulse was to refuse. I, too, dreaded
the reawakening of old memories. But my second
impulse was different."

" Much better for your second impulse to
have been the same as your first," Tamar replied.

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 43

" What good has it done you ? Drawn you back
into the past. Weakened you. The past is no
good to anybody. I'm not going to be weakened.
No, I won't see him."

"You said a little while ago that if he were
in trouble, you would wish to help him,'* Nell
persisted.

" Well, let him write then," Tamar said surlily.
" Go and tell him that at once, and don't plead for
him with me. It annoys me."

" I cannot deliver your message if you are too
rude," Nell said with spirit. " One accepts a certain
amount of rudeness from you, Tamar, but there
are limits to one's forbearance, you know."

" I don't mind saying I'm sorry," Tamar con-
ceded with a little reluctant apologetic smile which
won for her Nell's instant forgiveness ; for every
one, however angry, had always capitulated to
Tamar's sullen smile. Nell went obediently back
to Adrian Steele to give him his dismissal.

" Tamar won't see you, Adrian," she said.
" She says you can equally well write."

" So I can," he answered cheerfully. " Really
this is a most interesting book and exceedingly
well done — considering Tamar's limitations. I
never thought she could make her fragments of
information into a coherent whole. But ap-
parently I was mistaken. One sometimes is.

44 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

Some of the sentences are almost literary. This
one, for instance, Nell, about the opal, through
no fault of its own, losing its ancient glory and
being falsely accused in latter days of bringing
bad luck. Tamar could never have written so
feelingly of anything or any one except a mineral.
And look here, I implore you. This sentence is
quite scholarly : rather in your old style. You
must have helped her, surely."

" No one helped her," Nell replied indignantly.
" It has been her pride and her triumph that she
did it unaided by any one — especially by you."

She flushed as she ranged herself on Tamar's
side. He glanced at her.

" Still suffering from your old illness, Nell, I
see, a pathological craze for justice," he said,
teasing her.

She smiled as she heard once more that well
remembered phrase.

w But you're right to call me to order," he said,
putting on a chastened expression. "And as for
Tamar, 1 can understand that she was helped not
by you or any one else, but by her own passionate
wish to assert her individuality and vindicate her-
self to herself. I retarded her mental growth.
Free from me, her mind expanded. Well, it is a
superb book. And she has shown great discretion
in the choice of the illustrations. Lavish ex-

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 45

penditure also. No wonder she can't afford a
more lively illumination in the shop. Ah, this
plate is the best of them all, isn't it, this Burma
ruby. And that reminds me, it is of rubies I
wanted to speak to her — or write — since she will
not see me."

He took an envelope out of his breast pocket,
tore a piece of paper from a small notebook, and
wrote : —

" DEAR TAMAR, — No doubt you remember those
negotiations I carried out for you in connection
with Lady Whitcombe's rubies. They gave me a
great deal of trouble, and there were complications
at the time, the annoyance of which I was anxious
to spare you. I found later, that I had made a
wrong calculation of our respective profits, and I
have been wishing for a long period to have the
impulse to make reparation to you. The impulse
has come, Tamar. I have brought you a cheque
for £19, and as you would rather not see me, I
enclose it in this letter. Pray accept it from me,
even at the eleventh hour, and pardon me for
having been — well, shall we say, since we under-
stand each other — inaccurate. I have been read-
ing your interesting book by the light of your
prehistoric one gas jet.

"ADRIAN STEELE."

46 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

He folded the letter into the envelope and
handed it with a smile to Nell.

" It's really too bad to give you this trouble,
Nell/' he said. "Tamar was always tiresome,
wasn't she ? I wish I could myself take it to the
inner room. But that's impossible, since I'm
debarred from her imperial presence. And no
doubt the old woman is asleep over her tea, as
in the old days. Was it tea, I wonder ? Does it
necessarily mean that a teapot should contain tea
only ? "

" I can only tell you I've heard direct from
Tamar that the old woman is asleep over her
tea," Nell said, laughing, "and that's why I've
been promoted to the position of imperial mes-
senger boy."

" Does Tamar often concede this distinction to
you, may I ask ? " he said. " You will recall that
I was ever inquisitive."

" I have not seen Tamar for many years until
to-day, Adrian," Nell said gravely.

He stood silent for a moment.

"Ah," he said at length, "then you and she
did not come together again after — "

He broke off.

"After I had forsaken her too," he finished
bravely. But his face showed that it cost him
an effort to speak those words.

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 47

" No," Nell answered ; " not until to-day."

"Not until to-day," he repeated as though to
himself; and he moved away from her, and un-
fastened from the wall a rosary of beautifully
chased silver and cut jet beads.

" It's strange she has never sold that," he said.
" I remember it well. Spanish, isn't it ? "

Nell made no answer, but took the letter he
had written to Tamar, who read it, glanced at the
cheque, and showed both to her.

"You are right," Tamar said. "There must
be something wrong with him. He would never
make reparation to any one unless he were — well
— at bay."

And with sudden anger she flung the cheque on
to the ground, and cried :

" He asked your spiritual forgiveness. But he
pays me back money. Even now, after all these
years, he gauges the difference between us. I
was always bitterly jealous of you, and I am now."

" No, no, Tamar, not now," Nell answered.
" It isn't worth while now. You know it isn't.
Don't be angry. Don't be jealous. If any one
ought to be jealous, it is I, seeing him entranced
over your splendid book. Come, let's burn the
cheque, and then you'll feel better."

" Burn the cheque," Tamar said, snatching it
away as Nell picked it up. " Why, you must be

48 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

mad. Burn it, did you say ? Certainly not. I
shall cash it, and as soon as possible. It's my
money. He cheated me out of it. I knew. I
let him cheat me, because I was in love with him
at the time. I've never allowed any one else to
cheat me, never in my life. But I knew well
enough, and I shall go now and tell him I knew."

She threw the cheque into a drawer, locked up
the desk, glanced at Nell, who stood dumbfounded
by her outburst of fierceness and her display of
avarice, and passed into the shop where Adrian
Steele had become once more absorbed in her
book.

" Ah, Tamar, so it's you," he said, looking up
for a moment. " I am so glad you changed your
mind and came out to see me. This is really a
superb book. Upon my soul, you haven't done
it at all badly. Do you know I never knew you
had been to Amsterdam and learned the diamond
cutting at first hand. Most interesting."

She gave no greeting, showed no sign that his
words of praise reached her, but bending down,
took a large ledger from the bottom shelf of a
cupboard behind the counter. She placed it on
the counter, opened it at the letter W, and without
preliminaries read aloud :

"Lady Whitcombes rubies, £19 short of real deal,
kept back secretly by A. S."

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 49

" So you see I knew, Adrian," she said slowly.
"I knew you had to cheat. I forgave you. It
would have been quite simple for you to claim
a higher commission. But you preferred to pay
yourself in this way. I understood probably
because — well — because you and I always under-
stood certain characteristics in each other which we
had in common."

She closed the ledger, and stood waiting for
him to speak. There was no faintest trace of
conciliation in her manner, no outward betrayal of
feeling, emotion, or opinion. She might have
been a statue to which even the semblance of
vitality had been denied.

Adrian Steele appeared entirely unaffected by her
attitude towards him. It was relatively unimportant
to him that she was at the moment uncompromis-
ing, unreachable, hostile. Probably he did not be-
lieve that her hostility towards him was deep-rooted.
What mattered to him was that she knew him
through and through, and that this one instance
of her knowledge and discrimination, placed on
record in her ledger, ought to suffice as an en-
couragement to him to seek her counsel in his
hour of need. No explanations, no excuses, no
expressions of shame were necessary. All he had
to do was to say : " Look here, Tamar, I've been
keeping back about £1 5,000 of my clients' money for

50 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

precisely the same reason that I kept back your
I've come to ask you to talk things out with me and
ease my mental tension" She would not stand like
a sphinx then. Even although against her will,
she would be impelled, from sheer love of
scheming, to put her mind in contact with his.
Could he tell her ? He had not been able to tell
Nell, because, at the last, his pride, as well as his
natural reticence, had got the better of him ; but,
in the case of Tamar, who was on a lower ethical
plane, his reticence was at least not reinforced by
his pride. He was that much to the good — or
the bad. Could he tell her ? He longed with an
intensity, the pain of which was scarcely bearable,
to share with some one the burden of his impend-
ing difficulties. Now that he saw Tamar again,
who knew and understood him, he felt that she,
and no one else in the world, was his true com-
rade, and his only possible counsellor. Yes, here
she was, the one and only Tamar, and here were
the old familiar surroundings, the old familiar
treasures, the old dim light, and the old aspect
of neglect and meanness which had always been
characteristic features of Tamar's shop. The
spirit of place laid its spell upon him and whis-
pered to him, in a thousand voices, that this was
his chance, this was his moment snatched defiantly
from Time and Circumstance, and that he must

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 51

use it for his own, in a desperate struggle against
the instinct of secrecy and reserve which had been
the curse of his temperament.

So he fought his fight — fought it valiantly
alone, unhelped — but was again disarmed and
overcome. Tamar watched, with pitiless stare,
the strained expression of his countenance and the
keen suffering in his eyes. She noted, too, the
sudden collapse of some secret force within him,
and she saw the baffled look which testified to
some sure though silent defeat. Her old love for
him tugged at her heartstrings, but she refused to
respond. Some inner voice of her own spirit's
necessity called out to her, and she refused to
hear.

" Why don't you speak ? " she said rigidly.

He shook his head, and opened his hands with
a gesture which implied powerlessness to express
himself by speech.

Again something knocked at the door of Tamar's
citadel. Again she turned a deaf ear.

" Why don't you go ? " she said roughly.
<c The past annoys me. I have no use for the
past."

He took up his hat which was lying on the
counter near Tamar's book. He glanced at her
with a half-humorous, half-pathetic little smile
which seemed to say at one and the same time,

52 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

"It's only Tamar. She hasn't really failed me. Tesy
but Tamar has failed me. Tamar has failed me in
my hour of need." He glanced around the dim
shop as though bidding it farewell, and without
any attempt at speech or delay, passed quietly
into the street.

Tamar stood for a long time where he had left
her, rigid, immovable. Her eyes were directed
fixedly towards the door. Was she perhaps ex-
pecting to see that little loved figure from the
past return and press its claims in the present ?
At last she sat down in the old woman's chair
and, leaning back, covered her face with her hands.

Nearly half an hour afterwards Nell Silber-
thwaite, tired of waiting in the inner room, and
troubled at hearing no stir of life in the shop,
came and found her in this same position of entire
despondency.

"Tamar," she said with gentle concern, "Tamar."

At the sound of her voice Tamar uncovered a
worn and tearless face.

"Woe is me, woe is me," she murmured, and
beat her breast.

CHAPTER IV.

TT was a cold and dreary morning in February.
Even Richard Forest himself, usually uncon-
scious of bad weather, shivered a little as he stood
in the tower and rang the bell for the early morn-
ing service, and then hastened to the vestry to
put on his surplice. Before he came into the
chancel, old Mrs. Eustace, his servant, who also
swept and garnished the church, crept in and took
her accustomed place near the Elizabethan pulpit,
a position which experience had taught her was
relatively draughtless. Rain or snow, storm or
calm, the young clergyman stood at his lonely
post, and the old woman crouched in her shel-
tered corner. He never realized the true self-
sacrifice and fine homage of her unfailing daily
attendance.

"Old though my bones be, some one must
hearten the poor young master," she said. " It's
some sort of company for him."

But for all her devotion, she longed secretly
for the blessed day when he would give up these
early services which no single person in the

54 OUT OF THE WRECK i RISE.

scattered parish wanted. She even went to the
length of praying on several occasions that his
heart might be turned from its stubbornness.
Her prayers sent heavenwards, and her mild re-
monstrances to him personally, were of no avail.
Richard Forest clung to these services with an
obstinacy characteristic of all clergy, but in him
developed to an unusual degree of imperfection.

" The blessing of God must rest on the village
for the day, whether the people care to hear it or
not," he said gently but firmly.

"Very good, sir,'* she answered with patient
resignation. " But would it make much difference
if the village got it half an hour later ? "

So coaxing was her tone that Richard gave in,
and this was the first morning that the two wor-
shippers received the benefit of the half-hour's
grace. Old Mrs. Eustace offered up a special
prayer of thanks for this concession, and even the
young clergyman, as he opened the church service
book and glanced around the church, had a distinct
feeling that the place was not wearing its usual
air of dreary desolation. For the first time for
many months he felt encouraged, and his voice
rang out with a stronger note of hope and cheer-
fulness.

Indeed, there had been little enough to encourage
him since he came, a few months past, to this

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 55

poor and lonely parish of Herne. No one had
wanted him nor his ministrations. Three of his
predecessors had left behind them records of
indifference and neglect in their work and careless-
ness in their conduct. The advent of a new
clergyman meant nothing to the parishioners,
except the probable continuation of the same tra-
ditions. Thus their minds were rigidly adjusted to
receive an unfavourable impression of the stranger.
Richard Forest, without knowing it, had begun
immediately by stirring up hostility against him-
self, for he had deliberately chosen to inhabit the
old haunted vicarage, which had been abandoned for
many years ; and when he was warned that footsteps
would be heard, and strange c presences ' felt, his
simple answer confirmed the unfriendly verdict
against him.

" Why should I fear the footsteps ? Why
should I be afraid of the 'presences* ?" he said.
"I do not shrink from intercourse with the other
worlds. The good, one can merge oneself into,
and the evil can be met face to face."

It was not a wise nor a diplomatic answer, but
Richard spoke out of the truthfulness of his spirit,
and it would not have been conceivable to him
that his words were capable of any sinister inter-
pretation. So, accompanied by his sister Margaret,
the friend of his spiritual as well as of his corporeal

56 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

life, as William Blake, his teacher and master, would
have said, he established himself contentedly in
the old vicarage down in the dip of the hills.
But three weeks after their arrival, Margaret, who
had come with a chill heavy on her, and should
not have ventured on the journey, died from
pneumonia following on influenza. Then the
people around shrugged their shoulders, and said
amongst themselves that the young parson had
been warned, and that of his own free will he had
exposed himself and his household to dire calamity.
Nevertheless his bereftness and his patient bearing
made some little headway against their animosity,
and they urged him, kindly enough, to move away
from his ill-omened home.

"Why should I move?" he asked. "My
sister has died here, it is true. All the more
reason, then, that I should wish to be in the
surroundings which belong to her last hours on
earth. No, certainly I shall not move."

"You won't get a servant to stop with you
there," they warned him.

"Then 1 shall remain alone," he answered
stubbornly.

But that was not to be his fate. Old Mrs.
Eustace, who did not belong to the neighbour-
hood, and, in consequence, had not a native re-
spect for local traditions, settled down resignedly

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 57

at the vicarage, and at least showed no outward
signs of fear. She had become attached to this
lonely young man, and was determined to mother
him. She by no means liked ghosts, but it would
have taken a great many ghosts to make her
abandon him.

So the people of the parish did not interfere
further, and left him severely alone. But although
they held him in vague distrust, they had the
sense to realize that some one had come amongst
them, who was of a different stamp from his pre-
decessors. Still, he was only there amongst them
on sufferance, even as the others ; and they showed
no sign of wanting him or his ministrations. Some-
times in the early stages of his disappointment, he
used to reflect that perhaps these very men who had
left black records behind them, had come to Herne
as eager as himself to effect human and spiritual
intercourse between themselves and their flock.
Repulsed, they had been thrown back upon them-
selves, with nothing to foster their ideality or to
fire their ambition, without companionship of their
own class and culture, and out of touch with the
people of the countryside, to whom they were as
unwelcome intruders. What then remained, or
was likely to remain ? Nothing much, alas ! unless,
even as Richard Forest, they kept enshrined in their
hearts the inner secret of an abiding truth, which

58 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

was independent of dogma and doctrine, of chance
and circumstance, of propitious or hostile condi-
tions of life and thought.

In a way, therefore, Richard Forest was the
right man to have come to Herne, since he ran
the least possible risk of incurring harm from the
desolation of the place and the absence of even
ordinary comradeship. For he was by nature
dreamy and meditative, deeply occupied by and
immersed in that school of thought known as
mysticism, and indeed a direct spiritual descendant
of William Blake, whom he loved and understood.
He belonged by birthright to that company of
prophets and seers to whom alone the underlying
truths of life are known, and who are slowly,
slowly, silently, but with irresistible progress, forg-
ing their way to a universal recognition, tardy
but complete, which, for all we know, may herald
the true redemption of the world. Richard Forest
was one of them, obscure, unhonoured, unrecog-
nized, as so many of them have ever been through-
out the ages, yet bearers of the torch which has
shone more brightly as the space has grown into a
lengthening distance. In addition to his interest
in the writings of the mystics, he possessed a really
remarkable gift of painting, preferably in water-
colours, always succeeding best when he worked at a
subject from memory or from vision — dream vision

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 59

or waking vision ; for he then gave an interpreta-
tion of it which, in some indefinable fashion, added
a mystic meaning to its outer semblance. He
loved, too, to try his hand at illumination and
decorative design, and when he was not deep in
his books, he was always busy with his brush and
pencil. So the hours at home, which might have
been irksome to others, were to him times of real
and unfailing delight ; and he walked, cycled, and
visited those of his parishioners who had not
made a rigid rule of always shutting the door in
the parson's face. He conducted his simple ser-
vices without affectation, and preached little jewels
of sermons set in a fine and delicate workmanship.
They were entirely free from dogma and doctrine,
and appealed, vainly of course, to the spiritual
lying dormant in every one, apart from recognized
religion. No one, naturally enough, understood
these sermons ; but they were considered by the
few who heard them to be rather good, because
un-understandable. They were, in fact, the one
thing about him of which the community was
becoming slowly, surlily, and silently proud. He
laughed when he first learnt this, and then was
angry. His sermons were to him the least impor-
tant part of the ministration which he had been
so eager to offer to them, and which they had
rejected. In spite of his struggles to the contrary,

60 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

he resented their indifference to his personal in-
fluence, and was often furious over the rebuffs he
received. He was by nature hot-tempered, and
gave way to attacks of uncontrolled anger, which
at first terrified old Mrs. Eustace, and finally
amused her.

" If tempers send folk to paradise, then the
dear young master is bound to go," she said to
herself time after time, with a twinkle in her eye.

But she always concluded with :

" Well, well, it be only top dust, easily brushed
off without no trouble."

And it was true enough that he soon recovered
from his outbreaks, and passed through a quick
and chastened stage of penitence to the cheerful-
ness which had in it something of boyish charm.

The dilapidated condition of the church was
one of his trials which he did not always bear with
Christian fortitude. He was sometimes exceed-
ingly depressed and at other times shockingly
cross that there should be no one in the neigh-
bourhood to come forward and help with the
expenses of the much needed repairs. The old
manor house had long since been deserted, and
the property was in that fixed and mysterious
state < in Chancery.' The lay rector who owned
the chancel, invariably turned a deaf ear to Richard
Forest's appeals. The people of the countryside

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 61

were poor. There was in fact no one who either
could or would trouble himself to spare a thought
for the vicar or a penny for the church. Richard
Forest, after many disappointments, saw that he
could hope for no help, and that he must give up
all ambitious schemes of real restoration, and
content himself with only a few patchings up of
a humble nature, and moreover pay for them
out of his own slender means. Gladly enough,
but how ? That had been the difficulty, and he
puzzled over it, and made his brain reel over
estimates of costs and possible and impossible
economies in his simple life.

The only solution of the problem was to sell
the pearl and ruby crucifix which had belonged
to his sister Margaret, but he was most reluctant
to part with it. It had been her most cherished
possession, left her by an old French countess in
Provence, and she had owned it for a number of
years. But when she came to Herne and saw
the neglected general condition of the church
and the especially bad state of the roof, she had
begged him to accept it from her, sell it, and
begin a few of the repairs. This thought burnt
itself into her brain during her short illness.

"The roof — disgraceful — the pearl and ruby
crucifix — sell it, sell it," she murmured repeatedly.

Richard could not bring himself to give it up.

62 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

It had always seemed to be part of Margaret, and
he struggled for a long time with his wish to
keep it in memory of her. She had been fifteen
years his senior, and he had known and noticed
that crucifix ever since he could remember. As
a little child he had even understood vaguely
that it was the cause of family religious discussion.
But Margaret had clung to it with a pertinacity
which finally overcame all opposition, and it out-
lived its stormy past. He also clung to it now,
and it was only after great suffering that he re-
solved to carry out her wishes and part with it.
So one day, suddenly, he took it up to London,
and went first to T. Scott, dealer in antique jewel-
lery. Tamar never knew how reluctantly he had
entered her shop that day.

But now the pang of sacrifice was over, he
was experiencing an anticipation of pride and
pleasure in being soon able to start the
repairs. And this morning, as he finished the
service and rose from his knees, he glanced
towards the roofing over the left transept and
said in a whisper :

"Yes, Margaret. The crucifix has been sold,
and the roof will be mended."

He had not mentioned the subject to Mrs.
Eustace, probably because he wanted to be sure
that he dared undertake the expense. But he told

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 63

her this morning, when she followed him as usual
into the vestry, to hang up his surplice safely.
For it was his shocking custom to leave it in a
heap on the floor, if he happened to be in a
specially abstracted mood.

" Mrs. Eustace," he said, his face smiling with
pleasure, "now I'm going to tell you something
which I've been keeping as a secret. Listen. At
last the roof is going to be mended."

"Time it was, I'm sure," she said.

" Yes," he answered sadly. " I know that."

" No fault of yours, sir," she remarked sooth-
ingly. " It was them others."

" Perhaps they could not help themselves,"
he answered. " Perhaps there were too many
difficulties." And he whispered to himself :
"Also there was no pearl and ruby crucifix."

"Anyway," he said, "the hole and the dis-
grace will soon be things of the past. So I
feel exceedingly happy, in a very good temper,
and fearfully hungry. And I must own that it is
better to have the service half an hour later.
We'll always keep it at this hour."

"Good news all round," said Mrs. Eustace.
:< We must have ginger pudding for dinner."

Richard laughed and passed through the vestry
door into the churchyard, where little black Skib,
Margaret's schipperke, was waiting for him, faith-

64 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

fully but reproachfully, at the foot of the old
preaching cross. Skib also loved not these early
morning services, but, imitating Mrs. Eustace,
did not allow his personal discomfort to interfere
with his loyalty. Every weary morning he turned
out of his comfortable basket and braced himself
up to meet the sacred daily calamity, strengthened,
it is true, by reconciling visions of the * after
bone/

He followed his master now into the house,
and in a few minutes was busily engaged in
gnawing at the materialized expression of his
fantasy, a satisfactory and sweet piece of shin,
whilst Richard, seated at breakfast in the panelled
living-room, sipped some piping hot coffee, and
opened a letter addressed to him in an unknown
handwriting. This was the letter : —

"SiR, — You may perhaps recall the name of
T. Scott, dealer in antique jewellery. You offered
to show me your Norman font. I am stopping
at Kineton to-night, as I have to attend a sale at
Meyntoun Moat to-morrow at twelve o'clock.
Your church appears to be only four or five miles
off, so shall drive over before eleven in the
morning. T. SCOTT."

A flush of excitement passed over his face.

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 65

So he was to meet her again and almost at
once. He was to have the opportunity of telling
her personally that through her kindness and her
advice he had realized £36 on the rubies and £4
on the pearls and crucifix. He would actually be
able to show her how he was going to spend that
money, and she would see for herself that the
impulse to which she had yielded on his behalf,
had brought into the regions of possibility the
fulfilment of a pious work.

She had been pervading his thoughts and even
his prayers. He saw her standing before him,
stern, mercenary, pitiless in her dealings, accus-
tomed to drive hard bargains. This impression
of her, vague at the time, had gained strength of
outline since the afternoon when he entered her
shop and offered her the crucifix. But his belief
in some secret spring of grace in her had also
gathered force and vigour. She had tried to
mislead him. That was quite evident, even to
him. Suddenly she had repented and tried
to help him. Some inner prompting had aroused
her to a consciousness, evanescent though it might
be, of c truths that wake, to perish never,* and
he had a sure hope that the good in her would
prevail, in spite of the temptations to which her
business and her character might expose her. He

knew, of course, nothing about her character.

3

66 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

The intricacies and subtleties of a person like
Tamar would always have remained to him
unsolved, perhaps unperceived problems ; but
spiritual instinct told him that she was of this
world, worldly, and that her treasures were being
laid up on earth. So he had prayed for her, in
the little desolate church and in the old haunted
vicarage. Tamar herself might have bestowed
an indulgent smile on him if she had heard the
simple and unsectarian words falling from his lips
on her behalf:

"Let the shrine of the secret of life be opened to
her^ so that she may recognize the true and rarest
jewels"

Her letter put him in excellent spirits, and he
gulped down his breakfast, romped with little
black Skib, and went off whistling happily to
fetch his cycle out of the shed. He believed he
would have time to call on a sick old shepherd
about five miles off, and yet be back to receive
T. Scott at eleven o'clock. But on reflection,
he decided that this was an unwise plan. Sup-
posing he missed T. Scott ? That would never
do. No, the shepherd could wait an hour or
two. Certainly T. Scott never would wait. He
also could not wait.

He was much too excited to settle down to his
studying or painting. He therefore determined

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 67

to go along the Kineton Road and meet T. Scott.
Suppose that she took a wrong turning at the
cross roads and then found she had not enough
time left to come to Herne. This mischance
must certainly be prevented. He must start off
at once. He seized his straw hat, called out
some wholly unintelligible words to Mrs. Eustace,
who took no notice of them, and dashed up the
long and steep hill, pushing his machine gaily
along. When he reached the high road, he stood
looking, now at the lovely view spread generously
before him, and now at the shut-in hollow in the
hills which contained the tiny hamlet and its old
church.

" What a contrast ! " he said to himself. " And
yet I should not have liked to live up here away
from the church. I am glad I went to the old
haunted vicarage."

He mounted his cycle, and had gone only
a few yards along the Kineton Road when he
saw a crazy little four-wheeled trap approaching
slowly, drawn by a decrepit white pony, and
driven by an old man of the time of Moses.
Richard hastened to meet it, for his eager eyes
had caught sight of T. Scott.

She nodded to him, and smiled in a sulky,
reluctant sort of way, which, in Tamar, implied
a remarkable degree of friendliness.

68 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

"Well," she said, "I've come to see your
Norman font."

" It is good of you to come all the way from
Kineton," he said, his face colouring with ex-
citement. " And good of you to spare the time.
Perhaps you will care to get out and walk down
this steep hill. My little church lies in a hollow
of the hills."

"It's a pity you have to leave this splendid
view," Tamar said as she stepped out of the trap.
" They ought to give you a vicarage, or whatever
you call it, on the top of the hill."

" They offered me a little house on the Kineton
Road," he said. "You passed it on your way.
But I preferred the time-honoured old vicarage
adjoining the church ; not because I don't love
the expanse, but because I wished to live within
the precincts of the church."

They strolled together down the hill until they
reached the vicarage gate.

" This is your vicarage, I suppose ? " she
asked, staring at the desolate and dilapidated old
house.

He assented with the quiet dignity which was
characteristic of him, and Tamar remained silent,
repressing, out of consideration for him, an un-
favourable comment which rose to her lips.

He read her thoughts, for he said :

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 69

"I like it. It is not desolate to me, even
though it is supposed to be haunted."

"Well, it looks like its reputation," Tamar
observed. "Aren't you afraid of living here ?
I should be."

"Afraid?" he said simply. "Certainly not.
Why should any one be afraid of the so-called
dead ? "

" The so-called dead" she repeated slowly.
" Then you don't believe that people die ? "

" Oh no," he answered quietly. " Shall we
go now to the church ? You might like to see
my old oak-panelled room afterwards, if you have
the time."

She followed him through the gap in the hedge
which bounded the churchyard. She noticed that
there had once been a gate which had disappeared,
and she saw everywhere signs of poverty and long
neglect. Again he appeared to divine her
thoughts.

" Yes," he said, glancing round, " I admit it
will take a very long time before the graves and
stones are put in decent order and before the
churchyard becomes a smiling garden. But that
is what I intend it shall be."

" Is there any one to care ? " she asked
brusquely.

" No," he replied. " No. But I care."

70 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

He opened the vestry door and they passed
into the church. Tamar thought that never in
her life had she seen such a shabby and tumble-
down church. It looked all the more dilapidated
because, obviously, some recent attempt had been
made to modify its woeful appearance and con-
dition. But nothing could disguise its poverty.
Nothing could conceal the large gap in the roof.
Everything was in need of ordinary work-a-day
repair, quite apart from the luxury of restoration.
The old rood screen had gone to rack and ruin
for want of care. The Elizabethan pulpit was
cracked and split in every direction. The flag-
stones were broken and discoloured from the
damp. The pews were awry because the boarding
beneath them had sunk with the ground. It was
a scene calculated to fill the most indifferent heart
with concern and depression. Tamar turned to
the young clergyman standing silently by her side
in the chancel.

" I should love to get hold of one of your
bishops or archbishops and cage him here for
a few months," she said. " Yes, I assure you I
should like to make him c do time ' here. I
never saw such a place."

"Ah, but it won't always be like this," Richard
Forest said triumphantly. " Thanks to your kind-
ness, we begin to-morrow on the roof."

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 71

" My kindness ? " Tamar repeated.

<; Yes, yes," he said eagerly. " I followed your
advice about the pearl and ruby crucifix. I sold
the rubies separately and got £36 for them. And
£4 for the pearls and crucifix."

" I offered you four guineas, didn't I ? " she
said.

" Yes," he answered.

"Well, you couldn't have mended the gap in
the roof with four guineas, could you ? " she said
carelessly.

"No," he said smiling. "And I had set my
heart on that. That, and the reconstructing of
the pews. I can't tell you how much I thank
you for your help. I wish my sister, to whom
the crucifix belonged, could be here to thank you
too. Yet she must know and thank you from
afar."

"Where is she? Why isn't she with you in
this lonely place ? " Tamar asked with curious
fierceness.

" She is — well, dead ; though she is not dead to
me. Her true presence is here," Richard Forest
said quietly. " She — died here, about two months
after we came."

He remained silent a moment, and went on :

" It seems only a few weeks since we stood
together on this very spot, and she offered to sell

72 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

that crucifix and have the roof mended. We had
learnt by that time that there was no one in the
neighbourhood to come forward and help with
the work. We had to do it ourselves. We had
no money. But Margaret had that crucifix. It
was a legacy from an old French lady in Provence
to whom my sister had shown some kindness in
illness. She valued it greatly. But she wished it
to be used in this way. It cost me a great deal to
part with it, and I fought with myself a long time
before I felt able to carry out her wish."

Tamar made no comment, but stood staring at
the gap in the roof and frowning.

" Now I must show you my splendid old
Norman font," he said brightly, signing to her to
follow him down the nave. "This at least is a
treasure, isn't it ? An antiquarian told me that
there is no finer specimen in the whole country.
This is what 1 thought you might like to see,
you know. I have reason to be proud of it,
haven't I ? "

" Yes," she answered ; and as she glanced at his
face, she saw once more that amazing radiance, the
memory of which had been haunting her and had
led her footsteps in this direction. The thought
again passed through her mind that he was
'something set apart,' some spirit dwelling apart,
to whom poverty, desolation, and death presented

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 73

visions veiled to meaner eyes. She stared long at
the font, but it was not of the font that she was
thinking. She was thinking that she was ashamed
to have tried to cheat him. For the first time in
her life T. Scott was ashamed of her instinct for
plunder. In the exaltation of this passing mood
it was not enough for her that she had put him on
the right way to realize a proper value for his
sister's crucifix. She was seized with a sincere
wish to make personal reparation to him, and at
once. She closed her eyes, and saw a vivid mental
picture of the desolate church, the dreary vicarage,
and the lonely young clergyman accepting his
circumstances and difficulties without bitterness of
heart. Some one must help him to make that
churchyard into a smiling garden, and the church
itself at least weather-proof, if nothing more. If
there were no one else, then she must be the
person. Her right hand sought her pocket ; but
the next moment she had changed her mind, and
with a sigh of relief, as though she had escaped
some grave danger, she transferred that right hand
to the outside of her coat, where it clutched con-
vulsively at one of the buttons.

" No," she said to herself, her face tense with
the struggle through which she was silently pass-
ing. "No; certainly not. Why should I?"

But once more her hand stole to her pocket.

74 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

She made a last determined effort to restrain its
further activity by thinking of something of far
more importance to her than a perfectly unnecess-
ary impulse of contrition.

"Where did he sell the rubies?'1 she asked
herself. " I must find out, and get Christopher
Bramfield to buy them back. I must have them.
I liked them."

The question rose to her lips, but died there.
The thought perished in her brain, to be reborn
later on. She drew out her pocket-book slowly,
reluctantly, opened it, and went through the con-
tents until she found what she sought. It was
Adrian Steele's cheque for ^19.

" I shan't miss it," she said to herself. " It came
unexpectedly. He can have it. I shan't miss it."

She stared at it, and a grim smile stole over
her face.

" Rather amusing to think of Adrian and me
helping to restore a church," she said to herself.

She turned to Richard Forest.

" Where is your collection box ? " she asked in
her brusque way.

" There is none," he answered, flushing a little.
" I found none when 1 came."

" Then take this from me," Tamar said,
handing him the cheque. " Add it to the money
for the crucifix."

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 75

He took the cheque, glanced at it, glanced at her,
and stood motionless, with a perplexed look on his
face. He did not seem to grasp the situation.

" Add it to the money for the crucifix," Tamar
repeated slowly. " Call it — call it — well — my — my
— conscience money."

Suddenly he understood that she had again
yielded to some inner spiritual prompting, and
a wave of gladness swept over him. He rejoiced
in the generous gift itself, and in the blossoming
of yet another flower of grace.

"Do you really mean this?" he said joyously.
" Do you know, I can scarcely believe my senses.
Do you really mean this ? "

" I shan't mean it for long if you don't hasten
to accept it," Tamar said. " I part with my money
not very easily, I assure you."

" But 1 do hasten to accept it ! " the young
fellow laughed. " I accept it with gladness and
gratitude and understanding. And, you see, it
is all the more valuable since you don't part with
your money easily, isn't it ? "

Tamar smiled at hearing her own comment on her-
self repeated by Richard Forest in his eager excite-
ment. The church, as a church, mattered not to her
at all ; but she was curiously happy to have made
him so happy. For the moment she did not grudge
the cheque, nor regret her generosity. She forgot

76 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

that she had intended to add the money to the
amount which she proposed to spend at the
Meyntoun Moat sale, and she forgot that the
time was passing, and that she ought to be retracing
her steps to Kineton. She lingered on, listened to
his plans for restoring the church, and took note of
the Early Perpendicular window, the delicate inter-
secting pillars, and some faint remaining traces
of frescoes on the wall of the right aisle.

She even asked how far his registers and
churchwardens' accounts went back, and expressed
a wish to see them. He told her that he was
copying them out, and that he would show them
to her in the vicarage. She was deeply interested
when he told her that the church had once
possessed a valuable old Bible, which had been
mysteriously stolen.

" I should like to have seen it," she said, " and
needless to observe, I should have liked to
own it."

Richard laughed happily.

" There is an entry in the churchwardens'
accounts which I believe refers to it," he said.
"The date is 1578. I've looked it up, and find
that it's the date of the first edition of the Geneva
Bible for use in churches. I can't help thinking
that this is the Bible which local tradition says
disappeared about a hundred years ago. I heard

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 77

the tradition first from an old shepherd, the friend-
liest of all my flock, who had it direct from his father.
He says it was an old brown leather book with much
brass on it. And this very entry mentions brass
clasps. I must show it to you. I can put my
finger on it at once. I am always looking at it."

Tamar nodded, and they passed out of the
church. He was pointing out to her the witch's
grave, over which the grass was said never to
grow, when she suddenly remembered that she
had left the Meyntoun Moat catalogue behind in
a pew. At the same moment, the tower clock
began to strike the hour of eleven. Bibles,
registers, roofs, intersecting pillars and Norman
fonts were at once instantly forgotten. Her mind
leapt back to business. Her face hardened, by
immediate and magic transformation.

" I must go," she said brusquely. " I shall be
late for the sale."

Richard saw the subtle change which had come
over her manner and her countenance, and guessed
that she had returned to her commercial concerns,
from which there would be no recalling her.
Indeed, she had hurried into the church, seized
her catalogue, hastened through the churchyard
and taken her place in the broken-down little trap,
before he had recovered from the surprise of her
excessive abruptness.

78 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

"Good-bye," she said, nodding at him. "Thank
you for showing me your church."

" Good-bye," he answered. " Thank you for
coming, and for — "

She cut him short by telling the old man to
drive on. But the decrepit white pony had
scarcely gone a few yards up the hill when she
signed to the driver to stop, and, turning back,
beckoned imperiously to Richard Forest. He ran
up to the side of the trap.

" By the way, it would interest me to know
where you sold your rubies," she said dreamily,
as though the matter were of no importance
to her.

"At Messrs. Willoughby, 128 Holborn Via-
duct," he said. " Shall you remember it ? "

She nodded, this time with a little less indif-
ference, and the prehistoric trap passed on.
Richard stood watching it until it reached the
top of the hill and turned off, out of sight. Then
he went straight to the panelled room, closed the
door, and took out the cheque, at which he looked
for a long time, but without any sign of his former
joyfulness.

" She will regret it," he said to himself with
great sadness. " I feel sure she will regret it."

He locked it up with his most precious papers.

CHAPTER V.

'"PAMAR had been much torn by the memories
and emotions stirred up by Adrian Steele's
visit to her shop. She fought valiantly and
obstinately with herself, but she could not banish
him from her brain, and with her mind's eye
she saw always that little, well-known figure
making silently for the door, dismissed by her
with merciless cruelty, abandoned by her in an
hour of distress.

She attempted to turn her thoughts from him
by giving added time and skill to her favourite
task of faking antique jewellery, an occupation
which was always a source of interest and amuse-
ment, especially in moments of depression. Even
that failed to hold her. She then determined to
tidy the shop, an entirely abnormal proceeding,
which nearly had disastrous results on her aged
servant's nervous system. After this she gave
the rein to her restlessness and went out more
frequently. She went several times to Christie's
and to one or two suburban auction sales, where
she picked up several bits of china and a few

8o OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

oddments of jewellery which, so her practised eye
saw, could be altered into profitable disguises.
As she found that her mental tension was eased
by these outings, she resolved to take a whole
day and night off and go into Warwickshire to
attend an important sale taking place at an old
house called Meyntoun Moat. She had been
studying the catalogue for some time, but it was
not until she had definitely made up her mind
for the journey, that she looked out the exact
spot on the map, and learnt that it was in the
neighbourhood of the young clergyman's church,
not far from Kineton. This unexpected dis-
covery stimulated her in her decision, for her
thoughts had been turning repeatedly to Richard
Forest. He had appealed in a strange way to
something secret and hidden in that part of her
nature which did duty for spirit. Yes, she would
go to Herne Vicarage and see him in his own
surroundings, even if she had to incur the expense
of hiring a trap from Kineton.

She arranged her plans thus. She would go
one day before, and view the sale ; she would
stop the night at the ' Prince Rupert/ and
early in the morning drive out to Herne, arriving
there about ten o'clock ; she would leave at
eleven, and as the sale did not begin until half-
past one, she woufd thus have plenty of time

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 81

to get to Meyntoun Moat. She put the map
aside at once, took out her pen and wrote to
Richard Forest. Whilst she wrote, some of the
craft and hardness cleared from her face.

" Something set apart," she said aloud, and
she sat for a few moments lost in vague thought.

She shrugged her shoulders, opened the cata-
logue, and began studying it afresh with minute
attention. Amongst the silver, she noted a Dutch
ship. She read the description of it several times
and nodded her head approvingly.

" It must be a beauty," she said aloud. " And
not too large, only thirty-two inches long. Shall
I bid for it ? No. On the whole, no. I should
have to give up the other things which will be
more useful."

But an idea leapt into her brain.

" Adrian Steele would like to have it," she
said. " He always hankered after a Dutch
ship to add to his silver collection. If he were
to come in now, I could tell him of it."

For in spite of the harsh manner in which she
had rebuffed him, she half believed he would
return. Scores of times she had looked up from
her work expecting to see him stroll casually
into the shop, as if nothing had happened to
prevent him from paying her a second visit.
She had planned to herself how differently she

82 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

would receive him this time, and how she would
unlock her safe and show him some of her
treasures which he had loved to see in the past.
But he had not come, and he did not come
now. Suddenly another thought struck her.
She would send him the Meyntoun Moat cata-
logue. She would mark, not only the Dutch
ship, but one or two other items which she
knew would especially attract his interest. This
had been her custom in the past ; her one
attention to him, c her one and only courtesy
in life,' as he had always laughingly said. So
she marked the Dutch ship, and, amongst the
china, a peacock of old Chelsea, and, amongst
the Limoges enamels, a plate illustrating the
month of July, a harvest scene. She turned
down the pages, put the catalogue into an envelope,
addressed it, and without waiting to consider the
matter further, went out and posted it together
with the letter to Richard Forest.

"My one and only courtesy in life" she repeated
to herself grimly, as she stood before the pillar-
box. " More than seven years since I did any-
thing of the sort. And I'm a fool to do it now.
Shall I do it ? Isn't it better business that the
past should be past ? "

She paused. But the vision of the little figure
rose before her. A great yearning to see him

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 83

came over her. She dropped the catalogue into
the box.

Then she had come to Kineton, viewed the sale,
visited Richard Forest, abandoned him suddenly ;
and now, with her face set in the direction of
Meyntoun Moat, and her thoughts turned to-
wards the business which she hoped to transact
at the sale, she began to wonder whether Adrian
Steele would be present. It was quite likely
that he might come, for he had always been
an enthusiastic collector, and Meyntoun Moat
was known to contain many interesting and valu-
able treasures. It had been an open secret
amongst dealers and collectors for a long time
that, on the death of the owner, an old man
of unerring artistic judgment and instinct, the
contents of the house would be put up for sale.

Tamar therefore had only sent Adrian Steele a
reminder of what he probably knew ; but she
believed it was possible that this definite sign
of a renewal of their old comradeship might
increase the chances of his appearance on the
scenes. It was at a sale in Hertfordshire that
they had first met, and their first conversation
and dispute had been over the catalogue.

But although she wished to see him, her mind
was for the moment far too much occupied with
business schemes and calculations of probable

84 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

profit to focus on anything so relatively un-
important as a human being. She had always
had the power of dismissing people instantly
from her brain when her commercial instincts
exacted from her an imperious and concentrated
attention ; and at this juncture neither Adrian
Steele nor Richard Forest had any chance against
Limoges enamels, a Doge's ring which she
greatly coveted, Battersea enamel snuff and patch
boxes, and several small bits of George II.
silver, to say nothing of certain antique rings
and brooches which were always safe investments.
Richard Forest, indeed, had for the time passed
entirely out of her memory, and would never
have been recalled that morning, but that
in again making her calculations of how much
money she would spend at the sale, she was
confronted with the hampering fact that she had
parted with that cheque for £19.

" Nineteen pounds/' she said, frowning. " Nine-
teen pounds. I must have been mad. A gap in
the roof. Why shouldn't there be a gap in the
roof ? I could have bought that Cellini ornament.
I must have been mad."

So Richard Forest had been right when he
looked sorrowfully at the cheque and said :
" She will regret it."

But Tamar had not a great deal of time in

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 85

which to repent of her impulse of understanding
and generosity, for in a few minutes her shabby
little trap had passed into the fields which were
the remains of the old park, and before long she
arrived in front of the house itself. Motors and
conveyances of various kinds were drawn up near
the stables, which were situated on the left-hand
side of the old fortified homestead, and separated
from it by the moat. On the bridge which had
formerly been the drawbridge, stood Adrian Steele,
leaning against the wall scanning the coat-of-arms
over the massive gate-house. He glanced round
as Tamar got down from her trap, but he made
no movement to meet her. But when she was
near him, he raised his hat slightly and said:

"This is an interesting place, Tamar. Quite
one of the most interesting I have seen. These old
fortified homesteads are historic jewels. Judging
from the catalogue, the interior must be a treasure
house. I suppose you have already been inside ? "

" Yes, I came to view the sale yesterday," she
said abruptly ; but her brusqueness could not
conceal her sullen pleasure.

" Ah, you were always prudent," he remarked
cheerfully. " Well, shall we go in now ? "

She nodded, and without further interchange
of words, they joined forces and passed through
the gate-house entrance into the beautiful little

86 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

courtyard, round which the house formed a
massive square. It was characteristic of them
both that they remained at first entirely silent
on the subject of the catalogue, even though
Adrian Steele carried it in his hand and held it
open at the page where Tamar had marked the
Dutch ship. Tamar glanced at it and smiled
imperceptibly. Perhaps there was a slight smile
on Adrian's face which he immediately repressed.

Tamar did not care to wait for him whilst he lin-
gered taking his first survey of the picturesque old
place. She hurried through the great hall to the
dining-room where the silver, the china, the antique
jewellery, the Limoges enamels and the various
kinds of patch and snuff boxes had been collected
together. She was anxious to be sure that she
had made wise choices, and she took this oppor-
tunity of reconsidering some of the limits of prices
which she was prepared to pay ; for she was
exceedingly cautious, and never let her enthusiasm,
nor her irritation at being outbidden, run away
with her commercial common sense.

Suddenly she looked up and observed a tall,
rather robust man who was standing near her.
He was evidently much interested in the cata-
logue, which he was consulting with really boyish
pleasure. He went straight to the Dutch ship,
and compared the description of it with its real

OUT OF THE WRECK 1 RISE. 87

appearance. He seemed satisfied, for he nodded
his head approvingly, made some calculations
in his catalogue and nodded again, smiling to
himself in that quietly inane way which betrays
the ardent lover of antique treasures. At that
moment Adrian Steele arrived. The tall man
saw him. A curious and immediate change came
over his countenance. The boyish pleasure, the
collector's rapture gave way to some fierce and
uncontrolled anger. Tamar, watching like a lynx,
noted the turbulence on the stranger's face and
the calm on Adrian Steele's.

" Well, Steele," the stranger said excitedly.
" I suppose you've had my last letter ? "

"Yes, I received a communication from you
which I am intending to pass on to my solicitors,"
Steele said quietly, with a touch of his Napoleonic
manner which had always been his effective
weapon in moments of difficulty.

" I intend," said the other, " I intend that this
affair shall be investigated — "

" Pardon me," interrupted Steele with unruffled
serenity, "this is not my private office. I wish
it were. I can imagine no more agreeable spot
for that purpose. I came here on other matters
to which I must now attend."

Tamar, to all outward appearance concerned only
with her own affairs, listened with bated breath,

88 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

hoping to hear further details. But the encounter
terminated as abruptly as it had begun. The
stranger dashed out of the room, and Adrian Steele
advanced composedly to the table and proceeded
to examine the Dutch ship.

" Yes, it is a fine specimen," he said.

" Yes," Tamar said.

"An honest description of it too/' he added,
consulting the place in the catalogue marked by
Tamar's own hand. " Model of old Dutch
fighting ship, late fifteenth century. In full sail.
Thirty-two inches long. In the shape of a
dolphin, beautifully embossed with mermaids or
seahorses. Cherubs flying about in the air. A
mermaid with a lyre making entrancing music.
Do you see her, Tamar ? And there's Neptune.
He is evidently very pleased with her, isn't he ?
And there are the look-outs at the mastheads,
and the fighting-tops, and the cannons, and
the men climbing up the rigging. And the lamp
at the stern. Ah, and here's the anchor hanging
over the side. Well, I think it is a splendid
little fellow. Not too big. I have always wanted
one of these Dutch ships. I shall try and get
it. What have you got your eye on, Tamar ? "

Then in a half-reluctant way she pointed
out to him the objects which she intended to
buy, provided the prices were not run up

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 89

beyond her carefully calculated limit. She did
not mention the Doge's ring because she feared
he might possibly want that himself; but she
showed him the Cellini ornament, the snuff-
boxes, one or two of the Limoges enamels, and
some of the antique jewels. Later, they wandered
upstairs into the other rooms, glancing at the
fine old furniture, the sale of which was to take
place on the following day ; and finally they
found themselves in the chapel, and, by means
of the guidebook, discovered in the adjoining
little sacristy the opening to the well staircase
leading under the moat. They scarcely spoke.
They were both preoccupied, and to the outside
world they could easily have passed for two
strangers unacquainted with each other, who
had chanced to come together on the same
business, and had chosen tacitly for the time
to keep each other company.

Tamar was thinking chiefly of her own affairs,
but she was also scheming intermittently how to
find out the history of the tall blustering man
who had been worsted in his encounter with
Adrian Steele, but who evidently was holding
some threat over his head. She knew that Adrian
Steele was always calm in danger. Here, then,
was danger. There was no mistake about that.
But what was the danger ? What had he

9o OUT OF THE WRECK 1 RISE.

been doing to Adrian, and what had Adrian
been doing to him ? A garish type of man,
too, but most of the people there were garish
and worldly, including herself. A curious
contrast to Richard Forest, she thought. It was
only a hurried excursion that her mind took
to that lonely vicarage and desolate church, but
it nevertheless represented a true tribute to
the young fellow's personality, even though it
terminated in another acute attack of regret
over the loss of that £19 cheque !

As for Steele himself, his brain was engaged
in trying to decide on the wisest attitude to
adopt towards that blustering Robert Hailsham,
the dramatic author whom he had cheated out
of ^1,700, and who was bent on his disgrace
and destruction. Adrian flattered himself that
so far he had not done badly. It was a piece
of downright bad luck to come across him here,
but he had kept his serenity over their un-
expected meeting, and had shown no sign of
fear or anxiety. That must be his note : entire
fearlessness, the unconcern of innocence. He
smiled, laughed softly to himself, and when
the sale began, and Hailsham reappeared, Steele
had added to his secret and impervious armour.

He gave an immediate indication of it. One
of the first things put up to auction was the

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 91

beautiful old Dutch fighting ship. Hailsham
bid for it. Steele, without a moment's hesitation,
outbid him. Hailsham bid more. Steele out-
bid him again. A duel ensued. Hailsham
became excited and irritated, whilst Steele
remained perfectly calm and self- contained.
Hailsham in his anger flushed crimson. Steele
turned a little pale perhaps, but his thin lips
tightened at the corners of his mouth. Every
one in the room was tense with the interest
of this undoubtedly personal conflict. No one
else bid. The field was left to these two
combatants.

At last, when the price had been run up by
them to a considerable figure, far beyond the
commercial value of the object, Hailsham
outbid Steele by ten pounds. There was a
pause. All present turned to Steele expectantly,
and Tamar, who had been watching him closely,
though furtively, held her breath. He shrugged
his shoulders slightly, and otherwise made no
movement. The Dutch ship was knocked down
to Hailsham at £200. Tamar drew her breath.
She was thrilled with pride and delight in her
old friend.

"Splendid," she said to herself. "He has
had the courage to defy his enemy, and the
sense to keep his money."

92 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

A wave of admiration for him swept over her,
and brought back her old passionate love for him
with a rush. Then and there she determined
to ferret out his trouble by some means or
other, and to save him from it, or stand by
him through it. It did not enter her brain to
ask him any questions. She knew him well
enough to be sure that questions would only
have the effect of silencing him, and enclosing
him more securely in his citadel of reticence.
No, she would have to find out details for
herself. So far, good chance had helped her,
and she bent forward eagerly now when the
auctioneer, a handsome man of clerical coun-
tenance, asked for the name of the buyer, and
called out to his clerk :

" Mr. Robert Haikham"

" I didn't quite catch the name," she said to
a dealer standing near her whom she knew.
"What was it — Hay son ? "

" Hailsham, Robert Hailsham, the well-known
playwright," the dealer told her. " Hailsham.*'

Tamar entered it in her notebook.

"The author of The Invaders, you know,"
the dealer said. " Haven't you heard of it ? "

" No," Tamar said. " Plays have never
interested me."

" A good piece of its kind, and a huge

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 93

success," the dealer said. " He must have made
a mint of money over it."

Tamar added to her notes, " author of successful
play < The Invaders: "

As she made this entry, the relationship of
Adrian Steele to Hailsham suddenly dawned on
her.

"Ah," she thought, "of course. Now I
begin to understand. A client of Adrian's. A
client. Of course. And a client turned into
an enemy. That is obvious. What has
Adrian been doing ? I must find out, somehow
or other, from the playwright man himself."

At this juncture Adrian Steele, who had
been stationed at the opposite side of the room,
quietly withdrew into the great hall. Hailsham
followed him precipitately. Tamar saw them
both go, and, with half her mind, longed to be
present at their second encounter. But both
prudence and business forbade.

Hailsham, who was furious at having been
led on by Steele to bid extravagantly, advanced
on his little enemy and said angrily :

" If you didn't want the damned ship, Steele,
why did you run up the price ? "

" I did want the damned ship," Adrian Steele
answered quietly. " I consider it is a most
beautiful specimen, but I did not choose to

94 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

advance beyond the price I quoted last. There

are limits to — well — to one's indiscretion, shall

?»

TTW ^«,7 .

"Yes, you are right," Hailsham said excitedly.
" I rather think you will soon be learning
that."

"Probably," Steele answered. "It is said to be
an experience which comes to most of us."

He turned away from Hailsham, consulted his
guidebook, and proceeded to study the special
points of interest in the great hall, the fine
English Renaissance fireplace of carved stone, and
the complicated heraldic devices in the windows.
So far as he was concerned, Hailsham had ceased
to exist. Hailsham glanced fiercely at the little,
calm, stubborn figure, but realized the uselessness
of his own excited blustering methods. He
contented himself now with the reflection that
although he had never been any match for
Steele, either in speech or in manner, and had
indeed often writhed under his quiet but scath-
ing intellectual scorn, Steele was in his power.

He gave his head a shake, recovered his
equilibrium, and passed back into the dining-
room at the moment when the auctioneer was
putting up the Doge's ring. Tamar's mind was
now entirely focussed on business, and she
had forgotten every one's concerns except her own.

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 95

For all she cared, Hailsham and Steele might
have been murdering each other in the moat when
she once began to bid for the things on which
she had set her heart. She secured the Doge's
ring, a beautiful Spanish crucifix, the Cellini
ornament, and several snuff-boxes enamelled on
copper, and a rather fine enamelled gold watch-
case. She bid carefully, advancing moderately,
stopping at once well within her own prescribed
limit, and showing no sign of appreciation
or eagerness. Her face was a study of watch-
fulness and wariness. Hailsham, who had singled
her out and had been observing her for some
time, became greatly interested in her.

He saw that her choice was in each case
dictated by intimate knowledge, and not by
ill-directed enthusiasm. So, guided by her, as
it were, he outbid her on a Battersea snuff-box,
which was rather rare because it contained two
compartments. She herself had not one of this
kind, but she did not increase her offer, and
the snuff-box was knocked down to Hailsham.
She was disappointed, and looked sullen and
even fierce. But when she realized that the
purchaser was the author of The Invaders y
a brilliant idea leapt into her clever brain. The
sulky expression faded from her countenance,
and she glanced at Hailsham, nodding at him

96 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

pleasantly enough, considering she was Tamar.
Her glance and her half-reluctant greeting seemed
to say : " Never mind, it doesn't matter much. It's
all right" He began to regret that he had
deprived her of the Battersea, all the more so
as he attributed her friendly forbearance to his
name and fame. His vanity would not have
been flattered if he had known that Tamar had
never even heard his name until an hour or so
ago, and that it meant nothing to her, except a
useful signpost indicating a road which might
possibly lead her to a desired destination.

He resolved to find some opportunity of
expressing his regret ; and he was influenced in
his decision not only by his gratified vanity,
but by the real interest with which Tamar had
unconsciously inspired him. Perhaps, too, he
was impelled by an author's natural promptings
to probe and analyze unusual specimens. Tamar
appeared to him an unfamiliar type, and it was
not improbable that she might fit in somewhere in
one of his melodramas. He kept his eye on
her, and when she left the dining-room, he left
it too, and joined her in the great hall. She
was alone. Adrian Steele had disappeared with
his guidebook, and was at the moment over-
head, examining the oak panelling in the ghost
room.

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 97

Hailsham approached Tamar with an apologetic
little smile on his big and rather boyish face.

"Excuse me," he said pleasantly, "but I do
want to tell you that I am really sorry to have
deprived you of that Battersea snuff-box. I hope
I have not disappointed you unbearably."

"Oh no," she answered. "I don't mind. It
doesn't matter. It was not worth more to me
than the price at which I stopped short. And
I have many others — rather a fine collection. I'm
a dealer. Dealers cannot afford the luxury of
imprudence. They have to leave that to
outsiders."

" 1 suppose you think I've been imprudent,"
Hailsham said, with a laugh.

" Well, yes," Tamar said. " Over that Dutch
ship undoubtedly. A beautiful thing, I admit.
But at the utmost worth about £120. And you
have let yourself in for £200."

" Owing to that confounded little rascal," Hail-
sham said, his impetuous temper rising again at
the recollection of the episode. " But I'll yet pay
him out."

" Unfortunately it is not often possible to get
the chance of paying out the strangers who spoil
one's plans at sales," she said grimly. " I should
be obliged if you would give me a hint."

" But this man is not a stranger," Hailsham
4

98 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

retorted excitedly. "Anything but a stranger, I
assure you."

"Ah, that alters the case," Tamar said. "Per-
haps then an opportunity may present itself."

"Yes, it will present itself," he answered fiercely.
"And after to-day's experience I will make doubly
sure that it shall not be allowed to slip. As for
the Dutch ship, I feel inclined to throw the
wretched thing into the moat — anywhere. I never
want to see it again."

"There is no need for you to see it again,"
Tamar answered, a plan instantly suggesting itself
to her which combined business of the shop with
furtherance of an acquaintanceship with Adrian
Steele's enemy. "I'm a dealer, you know. Here
is my card. c <T. Scott, dealer in antique jewellery ^ etc.*
If you want to get rid of that Dutch ship, I don't
mind trying to sell it for you on commission."

" Upon my word, that's a good idea," Hailsham
said, glancing now at her card and now at Tamar.

"I might be able to sell it for ^120," Tamar
continued dreamily. " Certainly not for more.
But even then, deducting my commission of fifteen
per cent., you would get back rather more than
£100. You would thus stand to lose £100
:n stead of £,200 by your imprudence. This
might be better than throwing the Dutch shio
into the moat."

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 99

Hailsham smiled.

"Yes, it would be better," he said. "But I
must say I think your commission is rather

high."

"Yes, but I never work for a low remunera-
tion," Tamar replied indifferently. " It would
not be worth my while."

Something in her independent aloofness carried
weight with Hailsham, and he said :

"Very well, we will leave it at that. The
Dutch ship shall be sent direct to you. Or better
still, I will bring it myself. I should like to have
a look at your snuff-boxes. I am beginning a
collection of them myself. I will come and see
what you have."

" As you please," Tamar said, yawning. " I
have one or two rather good ones. One or two
' Vernis Martin.' "

" You don't mean it," he said with boyish
eagerness. " Better for me, if I'd come to your
shop instead of to this confounded sale."

"Better for me perhaps," Tamar remarked.
" One never knows."

"Well, at any rate, I'll come now," he said,
laughing. "And meantime, here is my card.'v

" It is a good thing for you that you are a
writer of plays and not a dealer in antiques,"
Tamar said quaintly, as she took his card. "It

ioo OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

is quite certain to me that you could not earn a
living as a dealer."

"Ah, but you must not base your judgment
on the episode of the Dutch ship," he said,
smiling. "There are wheels within wheels as
regards the Dutch ship. Perhaps I ought to say
keels within keels."

" Ah," said Tamar softly.

Then she made a bold venture, hoping to learn
some important detail to guide her.

" It would rather interest me to know the name
of that little actor man who fought you over the
Dutch ship," she said casually. " It seems some-
how to be a familiar face."

" His name is Adrian Steele," Hailsham
answered. " He is not an actor. But you have
not made a bad shot, for he is in the theatrical
profession. He is — or rather, I should say — was
a dramatic agent."

" Was ? " Tamar repeated. " So he is not
one now ? "

" His career is over," Hailsham replied emphatic-
ally.

" Over ? " Tamar repeated.

"Yes, yes, over," Hailsham said, his temper
rising. " He—"

At that moment Adrian Steele was seen
descending the staircase, and Hailsham, not

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE, rot

wishing to encounter him again, raised his hat
to Tamar, told her he would soon visit her shop,
and strolled out of the Great Hall. Adrian Steele
watched him disappear, and then joined Tamar,
whose face meantime had assumed a blank expres-
sion. His own face was slightly flushed. He
was obviously annoyed at having found Tamar
and Hailsham together. But he recovered himself
at once and said :

"A most interesting ghost room upstairs. I
have always liked ghosts. They have always
struck me as being so reliable. They always do
exactly the same thing in exactly the same spot.
This one, I believe, invariably carries his cut-off
head in his hands. You should go and see the
room. Admirable oak panelling. Your favourite
linen pattern. Altogether a most engrossing place
this. I am grateful you sent me the catalogue.
c Your one and only courtesy/ Do you remember,
Tamar ? Of course you do. By the way, have
you got what you wanted from the sale ? "

" Yes, all except a Battersea enamel snuff-box,"
she answered. " Your rival over the Dutch ship
got that. He came rather politely to apologize
for having deprived me of it."

"Very polite," said Adrian Steele, his face
clearing.

" I didn't really mind losing the snuff-box,"

102 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

Tamar continued innocently. " I told him so.
But I should have been angry if he had marched
off with my Doge's ring."

"The Doge's ring," Adrian repeated quickly.
" You never pointed it out to me with the other
things, Tamar."

" I thought you would want it, and run the
price up," she said, half sulkily.

He laughed. His face lit up with affectionate
amusement.

" The same Tamar — the same prudent, cautious

Tamar," he said. " Ah, how well you know me

—even after all these years. Yes, you are quite

right. I should certainly have wanted that

Doge's ring."

He stood looking at her with a strange wistful-
ness. His old love and longing for her came
leaping back to him, and again he knew her for
his true comrade and only possible counsellor.
Once more a tempest raged in his spirit.

" How well you know me," he murmured.
" How well we know each other. It ought to be
easy enough to — "

He shook his head, turned slowly away from
her, and without speaking another word began
to examine the heraldic devices in the windows.

CHAPTER VI.

TPWO or three days after Nell Silberthwaite's
visit to Tamar's shop, she had to deliver at
the Grey Friars' Hall the third of her London
series of lectures on " Sweated Industries." She
felt unequal to her task. The impersonality
which the subject demanded for its successful
exposition, had been stormed and beset by over-
whelming personal influences of the past. Tamar's
words echoed back to her : " The past is a
nuisance. What good has it done you ? Weakened
you. Wel^ Tm not going to be weakened"

Tamar was right in theory. Nevertheless
Tamar herself had not been able to withstand
the mysterious magic of the past. Nell saw her
now, weeping with unshed tears in that dimly
lit shop. She heard her voice charged with a
grim despair, murmuring : " Woe is me — woe is
me." She saw her beat her breast. Yes, Tamar
still loved Adrian Steele. And she, Nell, still
loved him. Once again, after the lapse of many
years, she felt herself caught and entangled by
the old sensations of rivalry with and triumph

io4 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

over Tamar. For Adrian had shown that even
now, after all these years, he had placed her on
the higher plane. He had asked for her spiritual
forgiveness, and he had paid back money to Tamar.
Here indeed was cause for triumph. But she was
soon ashamed of giving way to meanness, and
did her best to check herself. But this return
to past history brought stress and strain of spirit,
and serious disturbance of brain serenity ; and
Nell was alarmed at her emotional weakness, angry
over her mental instability, and indignant with
fate for thus forcing her back into a network from
which she believed she had for ever freed herself.

When Adrian Steele had lost interest in her
as a modern product, and had deliberately
ceased to lay his spell on her, she had escaped
with a true thankfulness from this servitude of
mind and temperament ; and had, with a fine and
determined courage, gathered her energies and
gifts together, and entered on a long and patient
apprenticeship for public service work. Adrian
Steele himself had first directed her attention to
the terrible sweating which went on in some
of the trades ; and she had never forgotten the
day when he took her, down to the East End, and
showed her the homes and the lives of some of
the sweated workers. The sights she saw, ate like
acid into her brain, and she had vowed to give

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 105

the best of her strength and mind towards helping
in the great task of trying to solve some of these
industrial problems.

Her marriage with Rupert Silberthwaite had
helped and not hindered her in her plan of life.
He had been an engineer of some repute ; and,
modern to his finger-tips, had ever been in the
vanguard of those who wished to give women
the justice of equal opportunity and scope for
their abilities and ambitions in all walks of life.
He wished to share generously, and not withhold
grudgingly. When others, less fine than himself,
had scoffed, he met their sneers with a quiet smile
of wonder. So Nell had in her husband a true
friend and a staunch comrade, who took the
deepest interest and pride in her work, and had
helped her in every respect to carry out her
schemes. He died suddenly, and she found that,
even in his will, he had not dissociated her from
her work. His will had contained this one
clause : <c / leave all my money and possessions to my
dear wife Net!, for her work and herself"

Thus, in his death also, he had, with a true
chivalry, paid her the tribute of recognizing that
her work was not a mere adjunct to her life, but its
very kernel. He had gone on his way, and she
had missed and mourned him increasingly. He
had known the history of her love for Adrian

io6 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

Steele ; and had, with added tenderness and pity-
ing kindness, set himself to heal her spirit and
help her to pass on.

She missed him now. She could have laid
before him her distress of mind, her unworthy
jealousy of Tamar, yes, even her reawakening
love for Adrian Steele, and could have reckoned
as ever on his generous understanding and wise
guidance. Even as she mounted the platform that
evening, and saw that big audience before her, she
tried to strengthen herself by believing that she
could refer the whole matter to him, and free herself,
once again by his help, from the yoke of the past.

Perhaps this memory steadied her nerves ; and
probably also, knowing herself to be at such an
impasse of depression, she made some special un-
conscious effort to gather together her disinte-
grated wits and concentrate them on her lecture.
The result was that she gave one of her most
brilliant addresses. But because of her heaviness
of heart, she did not realize that she had done well ;
and the strain which she had put upon herself in-
duced an after condition of increased despondency.

But before she left the hall her gloom was
dispelled. John Noble, the famous playwright,
had been present, and he made his way into the
ante-room and came straight towards her, eagerly
holding out his hand.

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 107

" Mrs. Silberthwaite," he said, " you have stirred
me tremendously. I cannot tell you how you
have stirred me. I have been uneasy about all
these things for so long. But vaguely, you know.
Looking on. Doing nothing. Taking no part.
You have made me feel that I must take some
part, and at once."

His words brought a flush of pleasure into
Nell's face.

" You cannot imagine how you encourage me,"
she said. " I felt I had done so badly to-night.
No nerve in me. No go."

"No one else felt that, I'm positive," he said
earnestly. " It was a splendid address, and an
inspiring one. It is true that you deal with facts ;
and facts can easily be turned into dry bones.
But you present a living picture to the mind.
You are bound to succeed in your work, because
the presenting of a picture is the secret of all
successful appeals. Yes, you have stirred me
tremendously. I want to help with both hands.
Here they are ! "

All Nell's depression had died away. She
looked radiant with happiness and pride.

" I can't tell you what your kindness and praise
mean to me, Mr. Noble," she said. "We've so
wanted the help of your name."

"Well, you have it now," he answered, "and

io8 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

I'm ashamed that you have not had it before.
But I assure you I should be still more ashamed
of myself if I held back after your lecture to-night.
I'll come to-morrow to the office, and if you can
spare the time, I should like to ask several ques-
tions of you, and find out how I could best begin
to serve."

"Present a picture," she suggested daringly.
" Write a play, Mr. Noble. You would do it
magnificently. You would take all the sordid-
ness and all the misery, and kindle it into a
great beacon which would reach even the blindest
eyes."

"Ah," he said, smiling a little wistfully, "if I
only could. But I should soon find out that 1
knew nothing. For it is one matter to feel
strongly about a thing suddenly, and quite another
matter to attain to the power of making others
share that sudden enthusiasm. To do that, one
must first be saturated with the idea. I should
have to saturate myself as you have done, for
instance. You have given years of your life to
these subjects, haven't you ? "

" Years," she answered.

"Well, I envy you," he said. "My puppets
will die their natural death. They will fade out
of the picture of life ; but the picture which you
present, will not perish. It will undergo the

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 109

transfiguration for which you are finely and pa-
tiently working."

He stood for a moment silent, and then added
with a smile :

" All the same, I shall have to think about that
play. I should want a fearful deal of help."

"You should have it down to the very last
shred," she said, laughing.

She went home delighted with the unexpected
success of the evening. It was a splendid piece
of good luck to have secured the attention and
interest of this popular dramatist. His name
alone would carry weight with the public ; and even
if he did nothing else except join the Society and
pay in his subscription, he would be lending
powerful and far-reaching aid.

The next morning she hurried off to the office with
a light heart. Nothing but good news awaited
her : more money, more members, more offers of
active co-operation. She said to herself, laughingly,
that John Noble had already begun to work his spell.

But suddenly she picked up a postcard which
lay by itself on her desk. She glanced at it
heedlessly, for its meaning did not at once dawn
on her ; but when she read it again, she under-
stood. It ran thus : —

" Have learnt something. Expecting you with-
out fail this afternoon. T. SCOTT."

no OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

The postcard fell from Nell's hand. A change
came over her spirit. The past leapt back. That
little figure rose up before her unwilling eyes.
He stood, with his old persistence, claiming her
attention and her interest. The old dreaded
disintegration set in. The old unworthy jealousy
sprang up. Tamar had learnt something. Tamar
had been working for him. And she, Nell, had
learnt nothing. She, Nell, had been doing nothing
for him. This was intolerable. She must do
something. And at once. What could she do ?
Dare she go to him direct and implore him to tell
her his difficulties ? No, no, that would be of no
use. That would only have the effect of sealing
his lips. Could she seek out any one who knew
him ? But who did know him in her present
world ? Their worlds were not the same. Still,
if Tamar had succeeded in learning something,
she too could succeed. She was not going to be
overshadowed by Tamar. If the past had to come
back to her, she would keep her place in the past.
No question about that.

Then her finer feelings prevailed, and she again
became ashamed of herself for taking up that
attitude towards Tamar. No, they must not be
rivals at their time of life, and after this long
interval of many years. They must be collabo-
rators, not rivals. Tamar, too, had been the one

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE, in

to sound the generous note. She had heard
something, and at once sent for her.

Nell smiled, and not unkindly. She had always
liked Tamar, and it was so exactly like Tamar to
order her to come. Tamar had always taken it
for granted that no one except herself had any
affairs to transact. So far as she was concerned,
nothing of any importance was happening in the
great world outside her dimly-lit shop. Kings
might die or be crowned, revolutions might be
making headway, the Church might be perishing,
Ireland might be having Home Rule, women
enjoying their hardly-won citizenship, comets
might be losing their tails. Tamar, amidst all
these events, remained unchanged, dateless, be-
longing, even as the jewels which she worshipped,
to all and any time.

Well, Tamar had sent for her, and Nell would
go. She would hurry off as soon as she could,
and meantime she would try to think how she
could best reach Adrian Steele. She longed to
reach him. She saw him again, as she had seen
him in her dream, on that mountain side, cut off
from help, inaccessible. She turned instinctively
to the mountain picture which he had given her,
and which was the only one of all his gifts she had
kept. Why had she kept it ? Ah, she knew.
Because of the mountain gloom, and the mountain

ii2 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

glory which had been dear to them both. Because
of the snow peaks of pure white loveliness which
they had both loved, and which towered calmly
and majestically above that low-lying valley where
love and comradeship lay wrecked.

She was still absorbed in these thoughts when a
knock came at her door, and the little Suffragette
secretary, whose merry eyes were dancing with
excitement, announced Mr. John Noble.

John Noble never knew from what a far-off
distance, and with what a painful effort, Nell's
mind travelled to meet him. But his very first
action helped her back to practical life. With a
pleased and a charmingly self-conscious little smile
he handed her a cheque for .£250.

"Laggards should pay the heaviest toll, Mrs.
Silberthwaite," he said. " But I'm not going to
be only a name. I'm going to be a reality.
And I've been thinking about that play you've
ordered. Upon my word, I believe I shall be
able to write it if you will help me with your
knowledge."

" Yes, yes, indeed I will. Let's begin at once,"
she said, all her enthusiasm returning to her with
a bound.

She threw herself heart and soul into her
task, answering his questions about the Trade
Boards Act, clearing away his difficulties, and

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 113

showing him the exact point to which the work
of her Society had progressed. She dwelt now on
the chainmakers, now on the lace trade, now the
tailoring trade, now on the box-making, and now
on the very worst feature of underpaid labour, the
wage-earning of very young children ; and when
at times she stopped, fearing to tire him, he
always said :

"Don't leave off, if you still have leisure. I
want to learn all I can. I want to make up for
lost time."

At last she ceased, and John Noble rose to go.

"This must be a mighty interest in your life,
Mrs. Silberthwaite," he said. " You care tremen-
dously, don't you ? "

" Yes, tremendously," she answered.

"Ah, the impersonality of it," he said half
dreamily. "The losing of the selfhood. That
alone is a thing to be envied."

" Alas ! one does not lose that, Mr. Noble,"
Nell said, shaking her head sorrowfully. As she
spoke, her thoughts leapt back to Adrian Steele, and
she glanced again at the snow-mountain picture.

His eyes followed hers, and he gave a sudden
exclamation.

" Well, that's a curious thing," he said. " This
is the second time to-day I've seen this identical
picture. The Bernese Oberland range, isn't it ? "

1 14 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

" Yes," she answered.

" I saw it in my business manager's office," he
continued. " I had an appointment with him,
which he had forgotten, oddly enough. I
waited for him in vain half an hour or so, and
meantime studied the mountains. Then I came
straight on here. And here's the same picture.
Now isn't that queer ? "

For a moment she did not answer, and then, as a
thought darted to her brain, she said impulsively :

" Mr. Noble, is your business manager Adrian
Steele ? "

"Yes," he replied.

"Adrian Steele gave me that picture," she said.
" It was a duplicate of his own."

" Then you know him ? " Noble asked, rather
eagerly.

" I knew him very well many years ago," Nell
replied. " I had not seen him for nearly twelve
years until the other day, when he called on me."

Noble stood twirling his hat nervously in his
hands. He seemed to be keeping back something
that he wanted to say. At last he spoke.

" He has managed my affairs for a very long
time," he said. " I shall always own frankly that
1 should have been nowhere without him, abso-
lutely nowhere."

" I am glad to hear you say that," Nell said

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 115

earnestly. " I always knew he was brilliantly
able."

tc Yes, brilliantly able/' Noble repeated. " That's
the word. If anything, too able."

He did not stir. He appeared to be caught in
a network of distressing thought. All the bright
eagerness with which he had been listening to
Nell's lesson, had now faded into a sorrowful
gloom.

Some secret prompting impelled her to speak in
praise of Adrian Steele.

" I assure you," she said, " that, looking back
now, I know that 1, too, should have been no-
where without Adrian Steele. It has taken me
years to recognize the debt I owe him. If I have
reached even one of the most distant outposts of
my goal, it is because he originally gave a clear
indication of the way. He taught me how to
work on modern lines. He was the first to plead
with my brain for the cause of the poor. I hear
him now telling me in his scornful way to use my
£ academic brain,' as he called it, for the problems
of the great world outside the scholar's study. I
admired his splendid doggedness. I have tried
hard to imitate it. I admired still more the
driving force in him, the memory of which has
many a time spurred me on to fresh effort and
action. And I admired, above all, the generous,

n6 OUT OF THE WRECK 1 RISE.

ungrudging way in which he gave himself out,
sparing neither his mental nor his physical strength
in the fulfilment of his task. The debt — '

She broke off and turned to her desk abruptly,
wishing to remind herself that she was a business
woman.

"You must really forgive me," she said.
"There is no reason why I should trouble you
with all this."

" There is every reason why you should," he
said in a low voice. "You are doing both me
and Adrian Steele a greater service than you know
by reminding me of the debt which I, too, owe to
him. I won't forget it. And you're right. It is
only when one looks back, that one knows the
true value of the whole debt."

He took his leave with a grave, preoccupied
manner. When he reached the door, he paused.

" Can you perhaps tell me one thing," he said.
« It is-

He broke off.

Whatever the question was, he suppressed it,
and passed out of the room. But his powerless-
ness to speak, and his sadness had told Nell more
than words. Something had gone wrong between
him and Adrian Steele, and that something
had struck this kind man hard. What was it?
What was it that had prompted her to record to

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 117

this stranger her debt of gratitude to Adrian
Steele ? Why, as she spoke, had all remembrance
of former injury been swept away in a wave of
appreciation ? She knew now. Instinct had told
her that here was danger, and she had sprung up
intuitively to ward it off. If she could do
nothing else for Adrian Steele, it was at least
something to have had the chance of ranging
herself on his side. And there might be other
chances too. This might be only the beginning.

She would be seeing John Noble again, and
perhaps he, of his own accord, would reopen
the subject of Adrian Steele. Meantime she was
in the proud position of being able to report to
Tamar that her day's work had, in its natural
course, brought her in direct contact with some
one who knew Adrian Steele, and had business
dealings with him. Tamar might have something
to tell her. But she also had something to tell
Tamar.

A few hours afterwards Nell stood in Tamar's
shop, examining a beautiful plaque of Limoges
enamel, while Tamar was transacting some busi-
ness with a fashionably dressed woman, rather
closely veiled.

" No,'* Tamar said, with a bored expression on
her face. " I have stated my offer. Eleven pounds
twelve and sixpence for the four rings."

n8 OUT OF THE WRECK 1 RISE.

"Very well," the woman said, shrugging her
shoulders. " But 1 cannot help saying that you
drive a very hard bargain."

"Possibly," Tamar answered grimly, counting
out the money. " But why come ? "

The veiled lady received the money with an
impatient gesture, and hastened away.

" These rich women lead one a dreadful life,"
Tamar remarked as she turned over the rings and
held them up to the light. " They fight for their
last farthing with their backs to the wall. Most
annoying. That woman has been here for quite
half an hour. However, the rings are rather good.
This emerald isn't at all bad."

" Tamar, have you ever seen the inside of a large
bell gentian — a blue one ? " Nell questioned, still
examining the Limoges enamel plaque.

" Flowers never interest me," Tamar replied
abruptly.

" The blue and green of Limoges enamel always
reminds me of blue gentians," Nell said. " What
a splendid little plaque this one is, Tamar. If I
were rich, I should want to buy it."

" I intend to sell that to-morrow," Tamar said
slowly. " I've quite made up my mind to that. And
moreover, to one of Adrian Steele's acquaintances."

" To one of Adrian Steele's acquaintances ? "
Nell asked in surprise.

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 119

Tamar nodded.

" Yes," she said. " I met him at a sale in the
country. He is coming here to-morrow on some
other business. We made friends over a Battersea
snuff- box, and we are going to become still
greater friends over a Limoges enamel. I shall
let him have it cheap."

Then in a few dry words Tamar narrated the
history of what she had herself seen and heard at
Meyntoun Moat, and the duel of the two men
over the Dutch ship. Nell listened with mingled
feelings of jealousy and concern.

" So you see," Tamar said, " there's no doubt
I've got an important clue to the situation. Adrian,
like a fool, has landed himself into some sort of
trouble with this playwright man, Hailsham.
Probably been cheating him. Been found out.
Well, I always feared he would be found out.
He was curiously reckless at times. However,
I shall learn more to-morrow. This Hailsham
loses his temper, and talks. I shall know how
to lead him on. The Limoges enamel and the
Dutch ship will help."

" I too have a clue," Nell said.

" You ? " asked Tamar crossly. " How could
you have it, pray ? "

Nell told her of her first meeting with John
Noble at the Grey Friars' Hall, and of their

120 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

subsequent interview at the office, when the name
of Adrian Steele at once aroused in him feelings
of great distress.

" I am sure something has gone wrong between
them," Nell said. "There could be no doubt
about that. And I could see that when Mr.
Noble learnt that I knew Adrian Steele, he wanted
to ask me some questions. But he is not a man
who speaks easily."

" Well, I don't see that your precious acquaint-
ance with him will be of the least use," Tamar
said.

"At least I was able to defend him," Nell
answered, with a proud little smile.

" What's the good of defending him ? " Tamar
asked scornfully. "That's no good to anybody.
And probably he can't be defended."

"Well, I can only tell you that Mr. Noble
thanked me for reminding him of his debt to
Adrian Steele, and said I'd done both him and
Adrian Steele a greater service than I knew," Nell
said with spirit.

Tamar was silent. She too was suffering from
an acute attack of jealousy. She tossed the new
rings impatiently into a small box, and locked it
fiercely. Nell noticed her irritation, but pretended
to ignore it.

" Curiously enough," she continued, " it never

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 121

struck me at first to connect the two men in my
mind. I was so taken up with the delight of
having secured a new and powerful friend for
the work of our Society, that all other thoughts
were in abeyance."

Tamar grunted.

"I've no sympathy with public service," she
said. " None. Why do you want to mix yourself
up with these silly sweated labour questions ? It's
a ridiculous waste of time and strength. No one
need expect it from me."

" No one would, in his wildest dreams," Nell
said good-naturedly.

A grim smile came over Tamar's face, and part
of her sulkiness passed from her.

" I don't mind owning," she said in a mumbling
voice, "that your meeting with this other play-
wright man may have something in it after all. I
suppose I was jealous."

" I was jealous of you, too," Nell said. " When
your postcard came saying that you had learnt
something, I could have — well, I won't tell you
what I could have done to you."

Tamar chuckled. She liked to hear Nell's
confession, and understood it.

"A couple of fools — that's what we are," she
said. " Fools to concern ourselves about his wel-
fare, and fools to be jealous of each other "

122 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

" Fools to be jealous of each other," Nell
returned. " I admit that with all my heart."

"Yes; and, don't you mistake it, fools to
concern ourselves about him," Tamar said. " It's
obvious we haven't any sense. If we had, we
wouldn't let Adrian Steele come between ourselves
and our own affairs — public service, precious stones,
or anything."

There was a moment's silence between the two
women. The little figure rose before them. Some
of the happiness of the past and some of the old
longing held them. It was Nell who spoke first.

" Nevertheless, we must save him if we can,
Tamar," she said in a low voice.

Tamar gave an almost imperceptible nod.

<c If we work together, we may be able to save
him," Nell said. " Jealousy will cause loss of
time and opportunity."

Tamar made no sign.

" We must try and not be jealous of each other
again,'* Nell persisted. " I promise you I'll try,
Tamar."

There was a pause.

" Yes, I suppose we must try,'' Tamar said
dreamily.

She leaned over the counter, closed her eyes,
and very slowly, with a painful effort, stretched
out her hand towards Nell.

CHAPTER Vll.

A BRIAN STEELE travelled up from Meyn-
toun Moat to London with his mind di-
vided between the pleasure of having been with
Tamar, and the anxiety of his impending diffi-
culties. His meeting with Hailsham had shown
him that Hailsham meant war to the knife, and
that, even if his other clients could be conciliated
or hoodwinked, this one man's fixed determina-
tion to destroy him would be sufficient in itself
to hasten the inevitable crisis. Still, he by no
means intended to capitulate to disaster.

He said to himself repeatedly that he would
make a superhuman effort to control and guide this
adverse chance, and that he would not give up
the struggle until he was convinced that it was
impossible to deal with the situation. Meanwhile,
he must gain time. It was for this reason that
he had shirked his appointment with Noble, and
accepted Tamar's tacit though definite invitation
to attend the sale at Meyntoun Moat. He could
not help smiling to think that he had evaded
in John Noble a less dangerous enemy only to

i24 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

encounter a fiercer foe at close quarters. Yet,
on the whole, it was John Noble he feared most
to meet ; because, in addition to their business
relationship, there had been between them a close
bond of fellowship, which, as Adrian Steele knew,
should have made treachery impossible. This
thought haunted him during his journey. He
reproached himself bitterly for not having spared
his friend, and he passed through every phase
of shame and regret, ending up, however, with
increased concern for his own welfare and that
of his wife and child.

Thus, burdened with business care, he arrived
at his own home in Egerton Crescent and pressed
the bell. The hall clock was striking eleven
when the maid opened the door. To his surprise
his wife stood in the hall, waiting for him.

"You up, Grace?" he said kindly. "Late
for you, isn't it ? "

Then he saw her face was pale, and asked :

" Why, what is it ? You look scared. Has
anything gone wrong ? "

A sudden fear flashed through his brain that
she had heard some rumour about his affairs.
She seemed scarcely able to speak.

"Alpenrose has been taken fearfully ill," she
gasped out. "Alpenrose — been taken ill. The
doctor says meningitis. She cries for you."

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 125

He did not wait to hear another word, but
pushing gently past her, ran up to Alpenrose's
room.

"Alpenrose — my little Alpenrose," he cried,
with a tender yearning in his voice.

Did Alpenrose know that he had come ? There
was a moment's cessation of the moaning. He
turned peremptorily to the London Hospital
nurse.

" I shall nurse her," he said. " This is my
work."

" You shall help me," she said, with some
attempt at maintaining her position of authority.

He glared at her a moment, and then pointed
in his Napoleonic manner to the dressing-room.
It was easy to see that he was master in his own
house.

"Be within reach," he said. "And look well
after Mrs. Steele. She is not strong."

He installed himself by the bedside of his
little darling daughter, whom he loved better
than anything on earth. His watchfulness did
not relax, his care never failed, fatigue did not
touch him. Each time that the nurse crept softly
into the room, she saw the little figure sitting
by the bed, like some lynx-eyed sentinel, motion-
less, yet ready for instant action. Every thought
except Alpenrose passed from his mind. Tamar

126 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

vanished, and all remembrance of his business
complications was swept away by this one over-
whelming anxiety. He concentrated all his will
power, all his mental driving force, all his psychic
insistence on the recovery of his child. He
diverted deliberately in her direction the strength
of his own brain and body. The sweat streamed
down his face. Tenser and tenser grew the
expression of his countenance. His frame quiv-
ered from the physical and mental strain which
he was putting on himself. His wife, the nurse,
the doctor all sought to relieve him as the weary,
anxious hours went by.

''The child will not know," they urged ; "and
you are worn out. You must take some rest."

But they spoke to some one for whom, at the
moment, outside life had ceased to exist. He
did not hear them, did not see them, did not
heed them. All through that long night, and
to the middle of the next day, Adrian Steele
battled in his own way for Alpenrose's young
life.

Who can tell whether or not he helped to
stem the tide of the on-rushing river of disaster ?
In any case, the child did not die. The little
fair head ceased to move aimlessly from side
to side. The moaning began to leave off. Al-
penrose fell into a peaceful sleep. Then, and

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 127

then only, he succumbed to his own fatigue, and
slept for so many hours that the doctor, as
well as his wife and the nurse, became anxious
about his long-continued prostration. The doctor
finally remained in the house, and stole in time
after time to see whether all were well with
him. At last he awoke, and found the doctor
sitting by his bedside. His first question was
about Alpenrose.

The doctor reassured him.

" All the same, I believe she would have slipped
through our hands if you had not been here,
Steele," he said generously. "You saved her.
How, I don't know, and don't pretend to know.
But you have half-killed yourself, and I've
been anxious about you. We all have."

Adrian Steele shook his head.

" I am all right," he answered a little proudly ;
for he had always disliked any reference being
made to his health or tiredness.

But he knew that, for the present at least,
he had worn himself out ; and he found, later,
when he took his business papers and letters
into Alpenrose's room, that his brain refused
to answer to his demands, and that it was im-
possible for him to concentrate his mind on his
affairs. He began to realize the acuteness of
the agony through which he had been passing.

128 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

If he had lost Alpenrose, he would have lost
everything. She was unutterably dear to him.
He loved her with all the best part of his nature.
He intended her to be all the things he had never
been able to be — clear as a mountain-spring,
truthful, open. Why had he never been able
to be these things ? Was it too late ? If he
could get his affairs in order, perhaps he could
yet make an attempt to run straight.

He said the words aloud :

" If I can square my business matters, my
little Alpenrose, I will try and never be dis-
honourable again, for your sake, and because
you have been spared to me."

But what if he could not square them ? He
glanced at the child, shuddered a little, and
covered his face with his hands. But of course
he could square them. Of course he could.
His brain had never failed in resourcefulness, and
would not fail now.

His mind wandered back to the first occasion
on which he had annexed the fees due to any
of his clients. It was at Colchester, and he
had kept back the returns of one matinee. He
remembered now how pleased he had been with
the idea, and the remembrance brought a smile
circling round his mouth.

" Yes, I own 1 liked doing it," he said. " Yes,

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 129

even though it was to Noble that I did it. I
have always liked doing it."

The smile vanished, and his face took on an
expression of defiance.

" I still maintain that I more than earned every
single fee I annexed," he said. " I maintain
that."

His eyes fell on his papers, and he was recalled
from his defence of the past to the urgency of the
present. How could he meet the situation ?
Again only one point was clear to him. He must
gain time. Alpenrose's illness could help him
in this respect. Thus, for instance, he could
write to Noble and say that he had failed to
keep his appointment because of his little girl's
illness. This would make it clear that he had
not shirked the interview, but that circumstances
had prevented it. He would write the letter
at once. At least that would be something done.
He wrote : —

" DEAR NOBLE, — Very sorry not to have kept
my appointment. My little daughter was suddenly
taken very ill, and all other thoughts passed from
my mind."

He read the words over, and shook his head.

He had no heart to tell a lie in connection with

5

1 3o OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE,

Alpenrose. He tore up the sheet, and began
again : —

"DEAR NOBLE, — Very sorry not to have kept
my appointment. I was persuaded by an old
friend to go to an auction sale in an old country-
house, and quite forgot you were coming to my
office, probably because it has not been our custom
to do business there. When I got home, I found
that my little daughter had been taken very ill.
We have had hours of intense anxiety, but the
crisis has now passed, and I shall be at your dis-
posal in a day or two."

He thought this would do, on the whole. He
did not like to drag little Alpenrose in at all ;
but, for her sake and her mother's, as well as
his own, it was absolutely necessary to postpone
a meeting with Noble until he had been able
to settle on some possible plan of campaign.
Alpenrose's illness was a legitimate excuse for
not attending to business matters for a few days ;
and he knew well that John Noble, kindest of
all kind-hearted men, would harass no one who
was in trouble and anxiety. So that, since no
lie was being told, there was no reason why he
should not avail himself of this respite offered
by fate. Moreover, it was diplomatic to refer

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 131

to his visit to the country. Hailsham, who was at
the bottom of all this mischief, would be sure
to see Noble and tell him about the episode of
the Dutch ship. Yes, the letter could stand
as it was. He addressed it, gummed it, and
smiled as he thought of the Dutch ship.

"A real bit of prancing, that," he said to him-
self. " Dangerous, but necessary as a protest, and
entirely enjoyable."

He suddenly remembered Tamar, and his face
lit up.

"I wonder what she thought of it," he said.
" She would indeed be amused and impressed, if
she knew the circumstances of my defiance. Why
can't I tell her ? "

He rose from his chair, and stood looking out
of the window.

" Why can't I make up my mind to tell Tamar
everything ? " he said aloud. "She and I are one.
Nothing can alter that. Nothing."

Alpenrose stirred uneasily in her sleep, and he
was back in an instant by her side, ready to feed
her, nurse her, caress her, if she awoke. She
opened her blue eyes ; and swiftly, deftly, and
with all the tenderness of a mother, he managed to
administer the bird-like dose of jelly enjoined by
the nurse. No one was so successful as he in
the difficult task of feeding the little frail child,

132 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

because it was to him that she always offered the
least resistance. The next moment she was asleep
again, clutching tightly the black doll which he
had not allowed the nurse to take from her. He
was secretly amused in remembering how he had
fought for that black doll. Its presence repre-
sented a victory over all the most sacred traditions
of hospital red tape. He returned to his papers
and letters.

He found that already two of his other clients
were on the scent, and had written asking for
immediate interviews. These were Sanford, whom,
so he computed, he had cheated out of nearly
£ 6,000, and Cecil, whom he had defrauded of
about £4,000. And there was a curt and rather
pert little communication from a new young
upstart, whose work he had taken to oblige
Hailsham. But, of course, they had all been
drilled by Hailsham. He knew that, apart from
business, Hailsham hated him. He knew that
Hailsham had never been able to forgive him for
his intellectual contempt for those mindless but
lucrative melodramas which the public loved.

" What was it I said ? " he asked himself. "Ah
yes, I remember : something about the plays con-
taining much money and a negligible quantity of
mind. Well, it was true.*'

He recalled the actual occasion on which he

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 133

had spoken those words, and was still smiling
when he began to examine some of his recent
accounts. But the look of amusement soon faded
from his face as he found himself confronted with
the difficulties created by his systematic dishonour-
ableness. At the moment the point engaging his
attention was this. Could he doctor his accounts
in such a way as to convince his clients that
certain shortages of payment, which they fancied
they had detected in their returns, were merely
temporary arrears which would all be eventually
collected and paid in as usual ? He had £ 1 5,000
safely invested. What plan could he hit on for
using it surreptitiously, allaying suspicion, and
thus choking off further investigation ?

He took one of Sanford's plays as a basis of
what he vaguely thought he might do ; and he
tried to work out his plan, making copious notes
which he at once destroyed. But his brain would
not act. He became helplessly confused, and all
his efforts to arrange his ideas ended in failure.
Nevertheless, his usual perseverance did not
forsake him. He wrestled relentlessly with
calculations, with conflicting schemes of explana-
tion, and with all possible and impossible subter-
fuges. But his mental agility was in abeyance,
and his power of continuous thought arrested.
He made no headway.

I34 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

"The fact is, I must have help/' he thought, as
he finally leaned back in despairing fatigue. " I
must sacrifice my pride and my secretiveness for
Alpenrose's sake and Grace's sake, so as to give
their names a fair chance of not being dishonoured.
I must go and lay everything before Tamar."

" If any one in the world can help me, it is
Tamar, " he said.

" Will she ?" he asked himself, in sudden doubt.

u Well, she sent me the catalogue," he answered
himself. " That meant a renewal of our old
comradeship."

" Can she ? " he asked himself anxiously.

" She has the wisdom and the craft of the
serpent," he reassured himself.

" Will she betray me ? " he asked himself in
sudden fear.

" Never," he answered himself steadily. " Never.
Tamar and I are one. She will never betray me."

" Then I will go to her," he said ; and he rose
from his chair, signed to the nurse to take his place,
and passed noiselessly out of the sickroom, carrying
his letters and papers in a locked leather case.

Grace met him in the hall and put a detaining
hand on his arm. Time had shown that these
partners for life had nothing whatever in common
except their love for their child ; but she probably
did not realize the distance between them, being,

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 135

mercifully for her in this instance, limited in
perception. And he, although he gave her no
confidence, and no free pass into his inner
consciousness, always maintained towards her an
attitude of gentle consideration, which had the
semblance of and did duty for affection. Perhaps
it was affection. Who can tell ?

" My poor Adrian," she said kindly, " you look
worn out and so worried. I am thankful you
have left the sickroom. I wish you had not all
those worrying business papers to study. I wish 1
could help you. Can't I ? "

"No, dear," he answered, smiling gravely.
"They are — well — rather intricate — even for a
business head."

" I was coming up to insist on taking your
place, and to beg you to go for a stroll," she said.
" But also to tell you that Mr. Noble has called.
He is waiting in your study to see you."

Adrian became deathly white.

" Noble," he repeated with a shudder. "Noble
here. I can't see him. I simply can't."

" No, of course you can't," she said, looking at
him with anxiety. " I'll go instead, and tell him
that you are absolutely worn out with Alpenrose's
illness, and can see no one."

"Tell him I've written," he said in a far-off
voice. " Stay, Grace, here is the letter."

136 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

Suddenly his courage came back to him, for
he was not by nature a coward. He gathered
himself together, and, apparently without effort,
banished from his countenance every trace of
worry and apprehension.

" No, Grace, I'll go after all," he said.

Without a moment's delay he made for his
library, opened the door and advanced without
flinching to meet, as he thought, Noble. He
stopped short. He could scarcely believe his
eyes. Surely there was no one in the room. No,
there was no one in the room. No one. He
was alone. Alone. He stood, arrested by the
surprise and the unspeakable relief. Then he
staggered to the armchair, sank into it, drew a
long breath, and closed his eyes. A few minutes
afterwards, when he had recovered himself a little,
he looked up and noticed an envelope propped
against the old clock on the mantelpiece. He
opened it, and found that it contained John
Noble's card, on which he had pencilled these
lines : —

" Woitt trouble you to-day. Just heard from your
maid that your child was ill. Only wanted to tell you
that arrangements for new play in your hands as usual."

The card fell from Adrian Steele's hand. His
head sank on his breast.

CHAPTER VIII.

r"PAMAR sat behind her counter studying her
ledger, with a smile of quiet satisfaction.
She had made several excellent deals lately, and
she reckoned that the Dutch ship would bring her
in a profit of more than £40. She had already
arranged to sell it to another dealer for £142.
She intended to pay Hailsham £120, less her
commission of fifteen per cent., thus handing him
over exactly £102. She tapped her foot, and
congratulated herself that she was always able
to make a successful commercial venture out of
any circumstance whatsoever.

" That's being a genius, or being Jewish,"
she said. "Well, the one often implies the
other. Now for the fourth cheque for Richard
Forest's church. Let me see. Can I spare three
pounds ? No. Two pounds fifteen ? No. Two
pounds ten ? Well, yes. And then there was
a pound which I decided to send for those
four rings the other day. Total three pounds ten.
Conscience money. A large sum to send for
conscience' sake. Why should I send it ? "

5«

138 OUT OF THE WRECK 1 RISE.

Her cheque-book was lying on the counter,
and she pushed it away from her impatiently.

"What's it to me if there is a hole in the
roof, or indeed if there's no roof at all ? " she
said sulkily. " Why don't some of those rich
bishops or archbishops see to the matter ? "

But very slowly and reluctantly she drew
the cheque-book towards her once more, and
wrote out a cheque to the Rev. Richard Forest
for three pounds ten shillings. Her face softened
as she read his name aloud, and her thoughts
centred for the moment on that desolate vicarage
where that young fellow, with his spirit dwelling
apart, unhelped and unencouraged save by the
reality of his own ideals, stood patiently at his
outpost, and not in vain. For the memory of
him roused always a tender strain of harmony
in her, oddly at variance with the discords of
her complicated nature.

"I don't gnidge it," she said, as she crossed
the cheque. "At least, not now."

She wrote on a piece of paper : " From T. Scoff.
For church repairs." She enclosed it with the
cheque in an envelope, which she addressed. She
immediately sent the old woman to the post
with the letter.

" Before I regret it," she explained to herself.

She dismissed the matter from her mind, and

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 139

turned her attention to business concerns.
Hailsham was coming that afternoon, and she
had yet to unlock two or three of her most
tempting snuff-boxes, and put them casually
on the counter, where his eye might at once
light on them. She chuckled a little as she
produced two of her favourites, an oblong,
formed of plaques of Siberian onyx, mounted
in chased and enamelled gold, and an oval
Dresden, painted on all sides with landscapes
in colours, and considered by connoisseurs to
be a very fine specimen. The Limoges enamel,
which she intended Hailsham to buy, was a small
and exceedingly beautiful upright plaque of the
Adoration of the Magi, in colours of green, blue,
and bronze. Tamar left this also on the counter,
at a suitable distance from the snuff-boxes.

She disliked extremely parting with this treasure,
which she had hoarded for many years ; but
she knew well that any enthusiastic collector
would be attracted by it, and would consider
himself to be extraordinarily lucky if he obtained
it at all.

For her own purposes she intended that
Hailsham should have this chance ; so that, if
he availed himself of it, he might feel, with
justice, that he had come off well in his dealings
with her, and consequently be in a frame of

140 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

mind which would help her in the task she
had set herself, of acquiring information con-
cerning his relationship with Adrian Steele. To
obtain this advantage Tamar was willing to
make the sacrifice of the Limoges enamel, and
in this instance the loss of profit did not enter
into her calculations. It was the loss of the
lovely possession itself which sent a pang through
her heart.

" For Adrian's sake. For no one else's, any-
where, or at any time," she said, staring at it steadily,
and feasting her eyes on it in a last farewell.

She turned away from it with a sigh, and
went into the inner room to console herself with
putting some finishing touches to a small faked
antique pendant. The shop-door bell rang three
times before she answered it. Robert Hailsham
stood waiting to be admitted. He greeted her,
and glanced around the old shop, taking in the
surroundings in a quick, interested survey.

"Well," he said, "and so this is your place.
Why on earth haven't I come before ? I've often
stood and looked in."

"That's better than nothing," Tamar said
quaintly. "Though it would not pay my
rent."

He laughed and sat down on a chair by the
counter.

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 141

"A real old-world place," he said with delight.
"None of your modern burnished boudoir shops.
Have you been here long, I wonder ? "

"It all depends what you call long," Tamar
answered indulgently, leaning with her elbows
on the counter. " I was born here. It was my
mother's business, and her father's before her.
I never knew any other home, nor any other kind
of playmates except the things in the shop. I
never wanted any other."

" So you have literally had a whole life's
experience with old-world treasures," he said,
deeply interested.

She nodded.

"Yes," she said. "Before I was ten I knew
more about precious stones than many a grown-
up dealer. More about enamels too. My
mother was an expert in enamels. Dealers as
well as collectors sought her advice."

"And no doubt they seek yours now,"
Hailsham said, becoming more and more inter-
ested in her.

" Dealers occasionally do," Tamar replied. " But
most amateur collectors think they know everything
nowadays. Mercifully for dealers, they don't."

Hailsham laughed, and a pleasant, rather
mischievous smile stole over Tamar's face. She
was beginning to enjoy herself.

1 42 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

"Well/' he said, "and now let us settle
first about that wretched Dutch ship."

" Do you still want to get rid of it ? "
Tamar asked.

" Why, certainly," he answered. " I sent
it to you for that purpose. I still hate the very
thought of the thing."

"I have an offer for it for £120," she
said. " Less my fifteen per cent, commission, you
would receive £102 in exchange."

"A loss of £98," Hailsham said pensively.
" A big loss."

" Yes, a big loss," Tamar agreed. w The price
of folly, of course."

" I admit that," Hailsham answered, shrugging
his shoulders. " But that little scoundrel angered
me. I lost my temper and my judgment."

There was a pause.

" I understand, of course, that I have to pay for
the luxury of losing my temper," Hailsham said
finally. " But is this the best offer you can get me ? "

" Yes," Tamar replied.

" Surely I ought to be able to get back
twenty or thirty pounds more," he persisted.

" Well, why not try ? " she suggested, as
if the whole matter were of no concern to
her. "You need not settle either one way or
the other about my client's offer to-day."

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 143

"Upon my word, that's very nice of you,"
he said impulsively. "I'll just think it over
for a day or two."

Suddenly he noticed the Limoges enamel
plaque reposing temptingly on the counter.

" I say," he cried, " what a beautiful little
bit of Limoges enamel you've got here."

"Yes, it's rather good," Tamar said care-
lessly.

" Rather good ! " Hailsham repeated scorn-
fully. " Why, it's simply splendid."

He took it to the light and examined it
carefully, whilst Tamar went to the inner room
to put the kettle on. She had decided that
Hailsham should be invited to tea, and should
be shown some of her choice stones, china, and
other private treasures which were not for sale.
When she returned to the shop, he asked her
the price of the Limoges enamel.

"It has taken my fancy tremendously," he
said excitedly. " I should like to buy it, if the
price is at all within my reach."

Tamar held out her hand for it, and looked
at it for a long time.

" I wonder whether the colouring is like the
inside of a bell gentian," she said, half to
herself, recalling Nell's comment.

" I don't know what a bell gentian is," he

i44 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

said. "But if the colouring is anything like
this, it must be thunderingly beautiful."

She went on studying it without taking any
notice of Hailsham. She was in fact struggling
with her reluctance to part with this treasure.
She longed to hurry away with it and lock it
up in her safe. Hailsham, who was watching
her, thought she was debating its value with
herself, and would indeed have been surprised
if he had known that his little adversary,
Adrian Steele, was guiding the destinies of this
coveted bit of Limoges enamel.

" Well," he said with a smile. " Is it perhaps
priceless ? "

"The truth is, I have never priced it," Tamar
said in a curiously strained voice. " I have
always loved it, and kept it for myself."

He glanced at her with added interest, for
there was no mistaking the note of pain in her
voice ; and the distressed expression on her
face dispelled from his mind any idea that she
was feigning unwillingness, in order to enhance
the value of her property.

" Ah, I must not deprive you of it, if that's
the case," he said. " But I own I'm disappointed."

"You can have it," she said sulkily. "I
give it up."

She added, still more sulkily :

OUT OF THE WRECK 1 RISE. 145

"You can have it for £15."

" Fifteen pounds ! Done ! " he exclaimed in
joyful surprise ; and it was borne in upon him
that, in spite of her claims to knowledge, she
did not understand the value of Limoges
enamels.

She let Jaim think this. That was part of her
plan, and a part of it which amused her
immensely.

"Now," she said, "if you'll come into the
inner room, I don't mind showing you some
attractive jewels and antiques. You are evidently
a real lover of these things, and not a mechanical
collector. Ah yes, and here are one or two snuff-
boxes which I put out for you to see. This one
is rather rare — Siberian onyx — French eighteenth
century. The South Kensington wanted that.
They won't get it. Perhaps you'll bring it. I
generally keep it in the safe."

Hailsham, who was brimming over with delight
and pleasure, followed her eagerly, carrying the
lovely little snuff-box in the palm of his right
hand. As a collector, he was overjoyed at this
unexpected opportunity of seeing her special
treasures, and as an author, he was elated
at the chance of learning more of her mind
and character; for she appeared to him to have
descended direct from the skies to furnish fodder

146 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

for his next play. This thought, which had knocked
softly at his brain on the day of the Meyntoun
Moat sale, asserted itself now with greater insist-
ence. And here, in her own shop, in her own
setting, her countenance seemed to have some
subtle, indefinable beauty which was more arresting
than mere perfection of outline or feature. She was
a Jewess. There could be no doubt about that.
And she was a Roman empress as well. A
little short, perhaps, but distinctly of that build.
He knew that if he were a writer of fiction, he
would never be able to describe her. He was
right. Neither Hailsham nor any one else could
ever have described Tamar's appearance, or her
curious sulky charm.

As soon as they had settled down in the inner
room, she unlocked the safe and produced various
unset stones of startling loveliness, amongst them
several opals which she dearly loved, a lumachella,
and a rose-red tourmaline. She also took out tv/o
or three cases of jewelled rings of all sorts and
sizes. Then, without any preliminaries, she opened
to him her treasure-house of fascinating knowledge,
and he sat entranced. When Tamar chose to
let herself go on the subject of precious stones,
she could be, as Adrian Steele had always said in
the past, "superbly interesting — almost inspired/'
She had forgotten the existence of Hailsham, for-

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 147

gotten her plotting and planning, and was lost to
everything save the ecstasy of wandering in those
regions which to her were a true fairyland.

But suddenly, as she was fingering one of
her favourite sapphires, an old teasing remark
of Adrian Steele's thrust itself upon her re-
membrance.

" Transparency or no transparency, nothing will
make me believe in that stone, Tamar. It is a
bit of an old magnesia bottle. That's what it is,
Tamar."

She heard his voice saying these words, and
with her mind's eye she saw him pushing the
beautiful sapphire contemptuously away with the
rim of his eye-glasses. She broke off, recalled
instantly from her far-off world, and reminded
imperiously of the true object of her interview
with Hailsham. She realized with sudden alarm
that as yet she had learnt nothing from Hail-
sham about Adrian Steele, and that if she were
not careful, the opportunity might slip from her,
and that Nell Silberthwaite would get in front of
her with that other playwright man. This would
never do.

" Still, I have not really been wasting the time,"
she thought. " I have been tuning the instrument.
But now I must strike the note which will make it
respond."

i48 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

She rang for the old woman to bring the milk
for the tea, and poured out a cup for Hailsham,
an unheard-of hospitality in her annals. She
had the craft not to make any sudden change
of bearing and behaviour. She showed him a
specially fine ruby, and then unearthed some of
her antique silver, amongst other things several
Queen Anne rat tail snuff-spoons, which greatly
took his fancy. Finally, she produced an exquisite
sixteenth-century crucifix of gold, decorated with
cloisonn£ enamel. She glanced at this, and nodded
to herself.

"I got this some years ago at a sale in an
old Catholic mansion in Somersetshire," she said
dreamily. " I remember the sale well. And the
place too. A beautiful thing, isn't it ? "

"Yes, yes," he answered, turning it over de-
lightedly in his hands.

"A place rather like Meyntoun Moat," Tamar
continued, half to herself. " Not so perfect as
Meyntoun Moat, though. But that was an ex-
ceptional old house, and an exceptional sale too."

" Well, so far as I am concerned, I hope it was
an exceptional sale," Hailsham said, smiling good-
naturedly. " And that brings me back to the sub-
ject of my folly and imprudence. Do you know,
I think I'll decide to close with the offer of £120
for that Dutch ship, and have done with it."

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 149

"As you please," Tamar returned. "But why
not take another look at it, and then think the
matter over ? You might feel inclined to keep it.
It's good of its kind, and not too large. It is in
this other safe. I'll get it out."

She half rose, but Hailsham prevented her.

"No, no," he said, with a short laugh. "I
never want to see it again. As for keeping it,
why, I should live in a perpetual state of irritation
over the remembrance of the episode with that
miserable little skunk, who isn't worth even a
passing thought. No, I've made up my mind
once and for all. I'll sell the Dutch ship, through
you, for ;£i2o, less your fifteen per cent, com-
mission, and wipe the loss off my slate."

"Very well," Tamar said. "I'll arrange the
matter in a few days."

Then she took her plunge.

" I inquired about that little man amongst the
dealers," she said. " People in my business have
ways and means of getting information. I was
warned not to have transactions with him."

" No, don't you risk any transactions with
him," Hailsham exclaimed, roused at once.
" He's dangerous, I can tell you."

" I was told," continued Tamar quietly, " that
there is a rumour that he has got himself into
difficulties with one or two of his clients. I

150 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

forget the names. Names never mean anything
to me."

"You didn't hear my name?" Hailsham asked
excitedly.

" No," Tamar answered, shaking her head, and
opening a little packet of mixed stones. " Certainly
not. I should have remembered your name, be-
cause we were going to do business together. One
doesn't, as a rule, forget business names."

He laughed at her remark, and said :

"Well, I don't mind telling you that I am one
of those clients, and this will explain to you why
I was so furious that he had the impudence to
stand up to me over that Dutch ship. He knew
perfectly well that I, at least, have found him out
and that he's in my power. And yet he had the
audacity to defy me — the audacity of a doomed
man, I suppose."

" Doomed ? What will happen to him then ? "
Tamar said, absent-mindedly, taking up a brooch,
and beginning to remove one of the sapphires
which she intended to replace by a c doublet.'

" Oh, he will be prosecuted, of course, and
convicted," Hailsham answered, watching her.
" He's got himself into a perfect network.
There's no escape for him ; he can't get out.
The cleverest counsel in the world couldn't get
him out."

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 151

Tamar scarcely drew a breath. She was dread-
fully anxious not to check Hailsham. She longed
to ask a hundred questions. But she wisely re-
frained, and her self-control reaped a rich reward.

" May I ask what you are doing ? " he said
suddenly.

" Replacing a doublet with a real stone/* Tamar
said, with an innocent smile. " If you look care-
fully, you'll see the difference."

" 1 say ! " he exclaimed. " How little outsiders
know, don't they ? "

" Yes," Tamar replied fervently, and with an
inward laugh.

"But, to continue about Adrian Steele," Hail-
sham went on. " Could you possibly recall one
or two of the names mentioned if you heard them
again ? For instance, Noble, Sanford, Cecil."

" No, I'm sure those weren't the names," Tamar
said, shaking her head wisely.

"Well, there you see," Hailsham said excitedly.
"The fact is, there are a whole lot of us. But
I was the first to raise any doubts about him. He
has had a long innings, though. He has been
feathering his nest for years. But I found him
out, and quite by chance."

Tamar longed to ask how he had found Adrian
Steele out ; but, having the wisdom of the serpent,
she again refrained, and again was rewarded.

152 OUT OF THE WRECK 1 RISE.

" It was simple enough," Hailsham continued.
" It occurred in this way. I saw the fifth hundredth
performance of one of my plays announced in the
bills. c Five hundred/ I said to myself, c I didn't
know it had reached that number.* So, out of
curiosity, I looked up my returns, and discovered
that I had only been paid for four hundred and
seventy-three. After that I went into things. "

"Naturally," Tamar said, in a matter-of-fact
way. " Any one would."

" And now other people are following my
example," Hailsham said. "A ball once set
rolling, you know. Nothing can save him from
ruin. There's no escape for him, except — "

He broke off and shrugged his shoulders.

" Well, I know what I should do in his place,"
he said half to himself.

Tamar did not look up, did not show a sign
of interest. Her heart beat uneasily, but she
went on steadily with her work ; and Hailsham
himself seemed lost in thought, as he played
listlessly with a pair of saw-driven Georgian sugar-
tongs which Tamar had not replaced in the safe.

After a long spell of silence, during which
nothing seemed to be concerning her except the
task on which she was engaged, Tamar took her
second plunge.

"I don't pretend to know much about char-

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 153

acter," she said dreamily. " People have never
interested me as much as precious stones — or any
minerals, for the matter of that ; but I could
imagine that a man of that type would do things
on a large scale. I suppose he has let himself in
for hundreds of pounds."

" Hundreds ! " Hailsham said excitedly. " Thou-
sands are nearer the mark."

" Thousands ? " Tamar repeated. " I didn't know
that persons who wrote plays made thousands."

"Don't they, though," Hailsham answered,
laughing.

He plunged into histories of successful plays
which had had tremendously long runs in London,
in the States, and in the Colonies. He explained
to her about the handsome returns which popular
dramatists received, and cited to her names which
she had never heard, and circumstances which
had never come within her ken. In ordinary life
she would have been bored to extinction, and
would probably have commanded him to leave off,
or go. But her quick brain realized that she
would glean some useful general information, if she
listened carefully and patiently ; and she therefore
encouraged her unconscious victim by occasional
nods of appreciative interest, or by some innocent
question which deftly led him on to further details
of the business side of the profession of play-

154 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

writing. It was true he gave her no further
particulars of his own affairs in connection with
Adrian Steele. But she learnt quite enough on
general lines to understand in what directions, and
under what conditions, a dramatic agent might
defraud his clients and not necessarily be found
out at first. She saw the temptations to, and the
opportunities for, dishonesty afforded by the cir-
cumstances, and the dangerous position in which
Adrian Steele stood, now that some of his secret
dealings had come, or were coming, to light. She
bent over her task, apparently intent on the ring
only, but congratulating herself with inward elation
over the success of her interview with Hailsham,
over the data with which he had involuntarily
furnished her, and over the detailed report which
she would be able triumphantly to make to Neil,
who, in comparison with herself, had learnt next
to nothing concerning Adrian Steele's affairs. At
this comforting thought, a smile of quiet content
lit up Tamar's countenance, and she felt that not
in vain had she sacrificed her favourite bit of
Limoges enamel.

" It was worth while," she said to herself. " It
tuned the instrument."

Suddenly there came a ring at the shop bell.
Tamar, who always disliked rising from her work,
and never answered the shop door if she could

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 155

press any one into the service, was just on the
point of commandeering Hailsham, when she
checked herself. Some impulse warned her not
to send a deputy. She got up in her leisurely
way, glanced round to make sure that she had
locked up most of her valuables, nodded to Hail-
sham and passed out of the room, leaving the
door ajar. When she opened the shop door, she
understood why she had been prompted to come her-
self, for there at the entrance stood Adrian Steele.

" Don't come in, don't come in," she said in
alarm. " I can't see you now. Come later."

" I can't come .later," he answered. " If you
send me away now, you send me away for ever.
I want your help, Tamar ; but it must be now —
this moment. I'm in trouble, and 1 can't use my
brain to think. Something has happened to my
brain. I can't think. You are the only person
who can think for me."

She saw at once the distress of mind and fatigue
of brain written large on his face, and knew that she
must admit him then and there, and do the best
she could with the situation. Her ready resource-
fulness, reinforced by her pity for him and by her
pride at being thus asked for help, leapt to her aid.
She stepped softly to the door of the inner room,
turned the key of the lock, and thus made a prisoner
of Hailsham. She stole back to the counter.

156 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

"Pass straight into the kitchen, Adrian/' she
said brusquely. " I have a client here who does
not wish to be seen. I shall lose my deal if you
spoil it for me."

" Of course I wouldn't for worlds spoil your
deal for you, Tamar. That would never do, would
it ? But don't be long. You know I hate waiting,"
he said, with a smile.

She nodded, watched him safely out of the
shop, and then, assuming a calmness which she by
no means felt, she rejoined Hailsham, whom she
found examining her favourite bits of Chelsea in
the corner cupboard.

" I am sorry to have to disturb you," she said.
"You shall see those another time, and the
Battersea enamels too. But I have an eccentric
client here who does not wish to be seen. I shall
lose my deal if she comes across any one, and I
have to bring her in here. I have left her in the
passage at present. These people are most amus-
ing. They come thickly veiled, and give false
names. But I know them. I know this one."

" I'll be off," Hailsham exclaimed, catching up
his hat. " It would never do to spoil your deal,
would it ? Especially after the splendid afternoon
you've given me. I can't tell you how much I
have enjoyed myself."

"1 also have enjoyed myself," Tamar said.

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 157

" Next time you come I shall show you some
other things."

" Meantime, off I go with my Limoges enamel,"
Hailsham said cheerily. " There are the three five-
pound notes, by the way. Do you regret giving
up your treasure ? "

Tamar shook her head.

" No," she said with her curiously sullen smile,
which had so much fascination in it. "And with re-
gard to the Dutch ship, I'll send you the cheque for
£102 in a few days, when I've arranged the matter."

" Or, better still, I'll come and fetch it," he said
eagerly.

" Very good," she replied, with a friendly nod.
" I shall expect you."

u Well, good luck to your deal," Hailsham whis-
pered, as she led him into the shop. " Is she a
duchess, I wonder? I say, what a good situation
for a curtain ! "

" Hush ! " said Tamar, putting her finger up to
her lips in indulgent warning.

The shop door closed after him. Tamar stood
for a moment, waiting to be sure that the danger
was over. At last the tension on her face relaxed,
and she drew a breath of relief.

" He has come to me for help — to me, not to
Nell Silberthwaite," she said, crooning to herself.

She went to the kitchen.

CHAPTER IX.

'"PHE repairs to Richard Forest's church had
begun in grave earnest, and the hole in the
roof was being attended to at last, after much
worry and delay. Richard Forest had written
endless letters, and made innumerable journeys to
the firm of contractors at Kineton, coming back
always in an excited state of rage and disappoint-
ment. But now the worst was over, and he saw
his efforts rewarded by the erection of a scaffolding
inside and outside the church. He went about
whistling happily, with a face so radiant with
delight that one might have thought he had
entered into a Promised Land. Old Mrs. Eustace
found him gazing with ecstasy at the tarpaulin
which now covered the terrible gap.

" Isn't it perfectly splendid ? " he exclaimed
joyously.

" Yes, sir/' Mrs. Eustace answered, puzzled, but
always unfailingly sympathetic. " Yes, sir."

She did not know what was perfectly splendid,
but she did know that some one had to take an
interest in the work now on hand, as well as in

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 159

those trying early morning services which still
continued to tax her loyalty to the utmost. Since
there was no one else to meet this fresh demand,
she rose grandly to the situation, and at frequent
intervals during the day, in obedience to her young
master's summons, abandoned the sacred precincts
of her kitchen for those of the church. Skib,
leaving his bone piously near the preaching-cross,
generally crept in too ; so that Richard was
supported by the whole of his faithful little
household.

"The villagers will care when they see their
little church intact and beautiful, Mrs. Eustace,"
he said one afternoon.

"A miracle will have to happen before they
care," she answered gruffly.

"Well, then, a miracle will happen," he said
cheerfully. "That's simple enough."

" Simple enough" she thought. " Now, what
does he mean by that ? "

But she did not question him. She never
questioned him, for she had found out that he
was extraordinarily surprised and pained when she
had not understood some of his remarks.

" Some one must pretend to understand the
dear young master," she said to herself continually.
And she had learnt to adopt towards him a mental
attitude of silent acquiescence which, without

160 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

her knowledge, was slowly ripening into a vague
comprehension.

That same afternoon, for instance, when she
was washing up the dishes, and thinking over his
words, she reflected that he called all the trees and
all the flowers miracles. She argued that if he
called everyday things of everyday life miracles,
he could not really think much of miracles, and
that this accounted for him saying that they were
simple enough. But, somehow, this explanation
did not satisfy her.

" No, it isn't that," she said. " It's something
else. I don't know what it is, but it isn't that."

The next day light came to her bewildered
brain. She remembered that he prized and
praised all the things which she called everyday
things of everyday life, flowers, trees, green
fields, clouds, waving grasses, sunsets, and silvery
stars. She suddenly caught a distant glimpse of
his mind and meaning. Then she understood
that it was because he thought all these things so
wonderful and miraculous, that he thought every
other happening in life simple in comparison.

"That be it," she said triumphantly, wiping her
forehead with her apron. " That be it."

At this moment of intellectual victory, Mrs.
Eustace heard his voice calling her again into the
church to share his raptures over the progress of

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 161

the work. She hurried off excitedly, and took
with her a letter which had come by the afternoon
post.

" Yes, sir, the workmen be getting on, and no
mistake," she said, gazing up at the roof. " I
expect youVe been frightening them, dear young
master, with one of them shocking tempers of
yours. I heard voices this morning. That I
did."

"They were going to sleep, Mrs. Eustace,"
Richard said defiantly. "They deserved a good
rating."

"And they got it," she said, with a twinkle in
her eye. "Well, well, poor souls, they're making
a good job of it, aren't they? We shan't know
ourselves, sir. We shall be that grand. And
I think them villagers will care. I think that
miracle you spoke of will happen, dear young
master."

The radiant smile which at once lit up Richard
Forest's face more than rewarded her for the
severe intellectual strain she had put upon herself.

" Yes, yes, Mrs. Eustace," he cried happily.
" I am so delighted you agree with me."

He glanced at his letter, and saw that it was
from T. Scott. His smile had passed into a
perplexed expression of countenance, from which
nevertheless a great tenderness was not absent.

6

1 62 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

" If there is a cheque inside," he said to himself,
" this will be the fourth she has sent me/'

There was a cheque inside, and a piece of paper
with these few words written :

"For church repairs, from T. Scott."

When the workmen had departed, and Mrs.
Eustace had retreated to her kitchen, Richard
Forest, according to his wont, knelt at his desk,
closed his eyes, prayed, and meditated aloud.

" T. Scott has shown by her successive gifts that
she did not regret her first gift," he said. "Thank
Heaven for that. The spiritual impulse which
prompted her to help me at the beginning, has not
died down in her heart. She earns some money,
unexpectedly perhaps. She remembers this lonely,
dilapidated little church, and she is impelled to
send an offering towards its restoration. Have I
a right to question the source of her earnings ?
Have I a right to discourage in her these impulses
of unworldliness which may lead her on to the
large spaces of life and thought ? Alas, I need
counsel other than my own. It is not clear to
me whether in rejecting these cheques I should
not be doing a greater wrong than in accepting
them and using them for a sacred purpose. Who
knows, perhaps I am even torturing myself need-
lessly with doubts about her honourableness which
have no real foundation in fact. It is true that

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 163

she tried to drive a hard bargain with me over
the pearl and ruby crucifix. But she repented,
and gave me the benefit of her knowledge and
experience. No one could no more. Is it fair
on her that I should take it for granted that these
cheques are necessarily the results of hard bargains,
driven mercilessly with other people, in perhaps far
greater distress than my own ? No, it is not fair
on her. I shall refuse to believe it. Better a
thousandfold that I should be mistaken and misled,
than that any word or action of mine should cause
T. Scott to close the door of her heart against the
knockings of her conscience. God will forgive
me if my judgment has been wrong. But I
should scorn to accept forgiveness from God or
from any one, if I had sent her one step further
out into the wilderness."

When at last he rose from his knees his face
was calmer and his spirit serener. He went
straight to the panelled room, closed the door,
and took out from a locked drawer three of
Tamar's cheques, to which he now added a fourth.
He had cashed the first one for £19, Adrian
Steele's cheque, which Tamar had given him in
the church ; but these others he had placed with
the letters and papers which he prized. He had
taken them out each day, turned them over,
thought about them, and then, very tenderly,

1 64 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE,

almost caressingly, replaced them in their niche,
together with the half sheets accompanying them.
These slips always bore the same legend : " For
the church repairs. From CT. Scott'' Nothing else.
No word of greeting, no line of explanation, and
no date. They were all for different sums, such
odd sums too. One was for £4, 195. 2d. Another
one was for £7, us. id. Another one was for
£6, os. fd. And the last was for £3, IDS.

Richard smiled now as he looked at them. He
had passed through great distress of mind over
them all ; but his battle was over for the moment,
and he determined to endorse them and send
them to the bank that very night. He signed his
name to them all, and said: " God grant that your
gift may be blessed to you, T. Scott, and to the people of
this village. And for my own part, I accept with a
true joy the burden of any mistake which I may now
be making."

He sealed them up in an envelope, and sat for
some time thinking of Tamar, who since her visit
to his church had more than ever pervaded his
heart and brain. In some mysterious way T. Scott,
as he always called her to himself, had become
part of his life and of his gentlest concern ; and in
spirit he constantly crossed the threshold of her
shop, and stood watching her anxiously with his
mind's eye as she bent over the counter and con-

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 165

ducted her business with her customers. Some-
times he pictured her in the chancel, gazing with
sullen disgust at the deplorable condition of the
church, and struggling in vain against her impulse
of generosity.

But it was chiefly in her own setting that the
vision of her rose before him ; and although in
so-called reality he had spent only a few minutes
in that shop — troubled minutes too — nevertheless
the place where she lived and worked, for good
or for evil, had grown to be an endeared and
familiar scene, easily conjured up by his imagina-
tion and not easily dispelled by his brain.

It was here that he saw Tamar now. Yes, he
actually fancied that he saw her pushing that
cheque-book away, and refusing to allow herself
to part with any of her money. He heard her
voice repeating the very words which she had
spoken in the church : "/ assure you that I part most
reluctantly with my money." He smiled happily as he
witnessed her capitulation, and knew it to signify
another step in the direction of unworldliness.

The picture faded, returned, remained, faded.
Richard restored those slips of paper to their place
amongst his treasures, and turned to the notes
which he had been preparing for next Sunday's
sermon. He did not for the moment feel inclined
to work on it, and he laid it aside and began to

1 66 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

examine a little water-colour painting he had lately
finished of a blue vetch field which he had seen
several months ago and dreamed of a few days
ago. After he had dreamed of it, he did not rest
until he had painted the memory of it.

He held up the lovely little picture to the light,
and for a time seemed lost in the thoughts which
it appeared to suggest to him. At last he put
it back on the mantelpiece, but still stood looking
at it with intentness. Then he murmured :

" To see a world in a grain of sand,
And a heaven in a wild flower."

His mind wandered to Blake as he spoke these
words, and half absent-mindedly he opened a
volume of the poems lying on his table, and
turned over the leaves until he came to that
wonderful outpouring, " Composed while walking
from Felpham to Levant"

" Ah, here it is," he said. " The double vision.
1 wonder what I should make of the double vision.
I wonder whether I could paint that thought, as
a thought."

He read some of it aloud.

" With angels planted in hawthorn bowers,
And God Himself in the passing hours.

And before my way
A frowning thistle implores my stay.

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 167

What to others a trifle appears

Fills me full of smiles or tears ;

For double the vision my eyes do see,

And a double vision is always with me.

With my inward eye, 'tis an old man grey,

With my outward, a thistle across my way."

" I wonder, I wonder what I should make of
it," he repeated, with a smile at the boldness of
his intention. "Well, there's no reason why I
shouldn't try one day when I'm in the mood.
And William Blake, William Blake, you must
just forgive my boldness. I can't help myself.
I'm impelled that way. I'm — "

Richard broke off. He thought he saw a dim
figure cross the room and fade away into vague-
ness.

" Ah," he said eagerly. " That strange presence
once more. Am I never to be able to detain it
— I who have no fears of this mysterious other
world circling round us ? "

He stood silent and motionless. He scarcely
breathed. He waited in anxious expectation. He
waited in vain. He shook his head mournfully,
as if owning to his defeat. He tried to settle
to his painting, and to fix his thoughts on this
task which was always a joy to him. But for
the moment he had lost all zest in it. He
made another attempt to get on with his sermon,

1 68 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

and with no better results. At last, hoping to
allay the acuteness of his disappointment, he opened
one of the old church books, and began to work
doggedly at the task he had undertaken of de-
ciphering the worn and precious old records. One
of his predecessors had evidently had the same
intention, but had wearied of the business and had
stopped short after a few pages. Richard had
determined to carry the matter through, and had
become deeply interested in the intimate picture
of the life in those bygone days presented clearly
both by the entries of the births, marriages and
deaths, and by the churchwardens' accounts. It
was the churchwardens' accounts which were en-
gaging his attention now. He deciphered the
following : —

Largese to foure poore wretches. 4d.

gyven to thre wonded soljers. yd.

gyven to traveler comying bye cer-
tificate . . . . .3d.

yteme of a ladere to ye roofe to fix
with rodes Divers redes torne by
ye fearfulle raging of ye winde . 2s.

yteme for ye time in makynge ac-
counts ..... 2S.

yteme for ye monyes off ye saide
accounts 35.

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 169

Richard smiled at these last two entries, and
leaned back in his chair.

"They took care of their own interests, those
old fellows," he said with a laugh. " I see them.
Yes, I assure you I see you, Abner Kindred,
Richard Heberton, and Seth Woods. Well, now
I must find out what you recorded in the next year.
I hope plenty of largesses to other poor wretches,
and no more damage to that thatched roof."

He turned over the pages and went on uninter-
ruptedly, smiling now and again at the quaint
words and spelling, until he came to the entry
which had already engaged so much of his interest
and attention, and which he had been intending
to show T. Scott when she left him so abruptly.

It was this : —

Yteme off one faire and seemlie bible with
claspes of brasse had off one Robert Girdellere off
ye worshipfule Company off Stationers of ye City
off London. 243.

Richard stared and stared at it. It always
fascinated him. Then, as he was dipping his pen
in the ink, a curious thing happened. He felt a
slight, almost imperceptible, tremulousness in the
air, as when a delicate breeze rises suddenly on a
still evening, touches lightly the frail grasses on

1 7o OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

the heath, and dies down once more into the
encircling silence. He looked up instantly, but
without any outward sign of eagerness or excite-
ment. He saw that dim presence, undistinguish-
able as ever to his veiled eye, cross the room and
begin to fade into the vagueness which always pre-
ceded its final disappearance. But, to his surprise
and joy, this time there seemed to be an arrest-
ment ; and after a long interval of anxious waiting,
the dim presence grew distincter and yet distincter,
and Richard saw before him an old miserable
derelict of a clergyman, in the dress of about the
beginning of the nineteenth century, dull of eye,
sly of expression, and obviously withered up in
heart and spirit. He was carrying under his right
arm, in a curiously furtive manner, a very old
Bible, bound in brown leather, with brass corner
pieces, a central boss, and brass clasps. With his
left hand he tremblingly pointed to the church
accounts ; and at the same time these words were
borne to Richard's brain strung to its highest
tension :

" "Because you have understood. "Because you have
understood"

The vision passed away. Richard rose to his
feet.

" Because I have understood ? " he cried.
" What have I understood ? "

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 171

As he stood there waiting for an answer, sud-
denly the pitifulness of his own heart answered him.

" Poor old man, poor old man, poor old com-
rade," he whispered. " I believe that when you
and the others first came here to this lonely little
outpost, you meant as well as I now mean ; but
that the trial was too hard for you, as it may
prove for me."

This is what Richard Forest had been saying
to himself ever since he came to Herne. He had
heard the bad records of the men who had pre-
ceded him, and knew that the position which he
now held, had sunk into disrepute by reason of
their continuous misdeeds. He had heard of
neglect, indifference, apathy, ungodliness, drink,
yes, and even of theft. But, although they had
left him this legacy of dishonour, his thoughts of
them had been tuned to pity and not to judgment.

He could see for himself how their natural
faults of character had been fostered by the loneli-
ness and grimness of the place ; by the separa-
tion from all equal companionship of mind and
spirit ; by the necessity, inherent in every one, of
finding an outlet of interests, good or bad, healthy
or unhealthy. There were signs, to him pathetic
signs, that one or two of them had at least tried
the better part. There was the transcribing of
the old registers, begun and abandoned : the carv-

172 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

ing of the communion table, begun and abandoned :
notes for a historical treatise on the district, frag-
mentary studies in the dialect of the county,
unused and cast aside with torn old hymn-books
and psalters. He had, with his fine idealism,
reverenced their early strivings and understood
the underlying causes of their failure. He had
vowed to himself, not once, but many times, that
he would attempt to carry on their early strivings
to a better fulfilment of what they themselves
would have wished to be.

"And may some one be raised up to deal in
the same manner with my early strivings and my
failures," he said.

This had been Richard's attitude towards his
predecessors. He was entirely unconscious of its
gentleness, for it was part and parcel of his nature
to dwell on the good rather than on the evil in
people, on the beauties of a scene and not on any
chance disfigurements. But now, as he heard
echoing in his ears those words of the old clergy-
man, who had thus mysteriously visited him, he
realized with a spiritual joyfulness the significance
of their meaning. Yes, he had understood. His
thoughts had therefore been granted a passport into
that unknown, separated land, and the old man had
appeared to him as a sign that his message of
understanding had been received.

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 173

This was quite clear to Richard now. But it
was not clear to him why the old man was carrying
that Bible in that painfully deceitful manner, nor
why he had pointed to the church accounts.
There was no doubt in Richard's mind that he
had pointed to the church accounts ; and as to the
Bible, he would recognize it again anywhere.
An explanation flashed across his brain. He be-
came exceedingly excited.

" The stolen Bible," he cried ; « the valuable old
Bible which disappeared years ago, and which—

He broke off, rushed to the churchwardens'
accounts, and put his finger on the last entry
which he had been transcribing.

" This very Bible, this faire and seemlie bible
with claspes of brasse," he exclaimed. " I see it
all now. He stole it then — yes, he stole it — and
he came — he came to tell me because — because
I had — understood — because he knew that I — "

Richard sank back into his chair.

An hour afterwards Mrs. Eustace crept into
the room to see whether all was right with the
lamp, another of Richard's shocking habits being
to allow the chimney to become black with smoke
before he attempted to interfere with the disaster.
He did not stir when she called his name and
reproved him gently, as was her wont. She glanced
at him, and noticed that his eyes were closed, and

174 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

that his face was lit up with that amazing radiance
which often filled her faithful heart with indefinable,
anxious fears on his behalf. She stood by his side
in silence. At last, to her immense relief, he
opened his eyes at last and saw her.

" Mrs. Eustace," he said, in a voice which
seemed to come from illimitable distance, " I have
this evening been privileged to hold brief converse
with one of the poor souls haunting this vicarage."

" Indeed, sir ? " she said, with as much calmness
and courage as she could summon, for she had
secretly been dreading this inevitable moment when
she would be obliged to hear definite news of the
vicarage ghosts.

"Yes," he said, "and I feel so encouraged and
hopeful."

" Ah, no doubt, no doubt," she said soothingly.

"Some day I will tell you," he added. "I
should like to tell you. But not now."

" No, sir, not now," she repeated with fervour.

She hurried away, deeply thankful for this
merciful postponement.

CHAPTER X.

"IX^HEN Tamar had successfully manoeuvred
Hailsham out of the way she made for
the kitchen, where she found Adrian Steele
warming his hands by the fire.

"History repeats itself, Tamar," he said. "How
many times in the past have I not come to warm
my hands here, when you would not have a fire
in the inner room ; and how many times, needless
to add, found the old woman asleep over her tea ?
There she is, you see. Here I am. And here
you are. Apparently nothing is changed."

" Except that I do have a fire in the inner room
now," Tamar said, with a ghost of a smile on
her face.

"Ah, I'm glad to hear that," he said. "That
is good news of a startling nature. How I wish
that you could have prepared a second surprise
for me, and introduced me to a really cheerful
illumination. Never in my life have I seen such
depressing gas, Tamar. Do you remember how
I used to grumble at it in the old days ? And
you used invariably and very wisely to say :
c Why come ? ' "

176 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

"Perhaps 1 could equally well put the same
question now," Tamar remarked grimly.

" Yes," he said, " that's quite true. You might.
And I might make the same old answer. Do you
remember it, I wonder ? "

" Necessity of spirit compels" Tamar answered
slowly. " Those were your words."

"Yes," Adrian repeated, "necessity of spirit
compels. I needed you then, Tamar, and I need
you now."

She had signed to him to follow her into the
inner room ; and when he stood there with her and
glanced around at the well-remembered surround-
ings, of which he had at one time formed an
important and a component part, he was overcome
by memories and thoughts, and moved to the very
recesses of his heart.

"Tamar, Tamar," he cried, holding out his
hands, " why did I ever leave you ? This was
my home, my true place."

That was all he said, but his words were charged
with love and longing, regret, remorse, tenderness
and infinite trust. A light came into Tamar's
eyes, and something in her soul broke through
its confining barrier of ice.

" Take your old seat," she said, pointing to a
little Jacobean couch which had always been
indisputably his. " I don't mind telling you

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 177

that I have often seen a vision of you resting
there."

" Thank you, Tamar," he said gently.

" I haven't wanted to see it," she added.

" That I can perfectly understand," he said with
a smile. "But you couldn't help yourself. I
have so often been here in spirit."

He sank back in the couch, made no further
remark, but fidgetted restlessly with his eye-glass
cord. Tamar knew that he was struggling with
his reticence, and for some time did not attempt
to disturb him. But when she saw that he made
no headway, and that every moment he looked
increasingly worn and ill, she determined to take
the risk of beginning.

" Is it so hard for you to tell me why you want
my help ? " she said slowly.

" Yes, Tamar," he answered.

" It is difficult for me to understand why you,
with your own strength and pride of brain, should
want any one's help," she said.

"Ah, but that's just it," he said. "My
strength of brain has gone, and my pride of brain
is broken."

"Probably you are only tired," she said. "You
want a little rest, perhaps."

"No, it isn't that," he answered, shaking his
head. "It's more than that. You see, when I

178 OUT OF THE WRECK 1 RISE.

got home from Meyntoun Moat the other day,
I found that my little girl, my little Alpenrose,
had been taken ill, from meningitis. 1 arrived
just in time to help nurse her through the crisis.
We nearly lost her."

He paused a moment, and shuddered at the
recollection of the agony through which he had
been passing.

" The anxiety has told on me, Tamar," he said.
" I have lost the power of thought and concentra-
tion, at the very time when I need it to unravel
some difficult business complications. But for the
shock of little Alpenrose's illness, I might have
worked through these difficulties by myself. I
like to think I might have done so. This sounds,
and is ungracious, but I know you will understand."

"Yes, I understand," Tamar said. "I don't
bear you any grudge for not coming to ask my
advice unless necessity compelled you. I should
have been just as unwilling myself."

" I believe you would have been," he said.

" I don't mind how reluctantly you have come,
as long as it is to me that you have come, and not
to any one else," Tamar said.

"I could have come to no one else, Tamar,"
he said slowly. "I might have thought of one
or two others with a passing thought, which would
have ended always in you."

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 179

His words were as rare jewels to her, but she
gave no outer sign of the value she placed on
them.

" If my little darling Alpenrose had died,'* he
continued, "nothing would have mattered. 1
should have let things take their own course
unchecked. I should not have troubled even to
attempt to straighten out my difficulties. But
there was Alpenrose."

" Do you love her so much ? " Tamar asked.

His face brightened up at once.

" I love her with all the best that is in me,
Tamar," he said gently. " My little rose — my
little Alpenrose. Look, here's this little miniature
of her. Do you see how fair she is ? Her
eyes are gentian blue, aren't they ? And she goes
dancing about like the little fairy that she is. No,
if she had died, nothing would have mattered.
But, since she has lived, I must try to save my
honour for her sake."

Tamar, who had been studying the lovely little
miniature which he had put into her hands, now
returned it to him.

" Children have never interested me," she said
abruptly. "But you always loved them, didn't
you ? "

"Always," he answered wistfully. "And this one
—my own little one — beyond the power of telling."

i8o OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

" Well, we must try and save your honour for
her sake," Tamar said. " You — don't — "

She hesitated, but continued :

"You don't speak of your wife. Doesn't she
count at all ? "

"Oh yes," he answered, a little stiffly. "She
counts. My wife counts."

There was a long period of silence, during which
Tamar showed no faintest sign of impatience or
weariness. She was busily engaged in thinking
over the points which she had learnt from Hail-
sham, and planning how to conceal her knowledge
from Adrian, and yet to use it for eliciting facts
from him. Her heart beat with secret pride and
excitement that he had come to her and not to
Nell Silberthwaite. If he had not loved her, he
would never have come to her. His own words
echoed back to her : " I could have come to no
one else, Tamar. I might have thought of one
or two others with a passing thought which would
have ended always in you."

She repeated them to herself many times, and
basked in their meaning.

At last Adrian Steele drew some letters from
his pocket, glanced at them, and then reluctantly
handed them to her.

" Read them all, Tamar," he said, his face
drawn and strained with the effort he was making

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 181

to conquer his secretiveness. " They present the
key of the whole situation."

They were Hailsham's letters, which had given
the first signal of alarm that danger and disaster
were at hand.

Tamar read them, studied them and sat staring
at them.

" I suppose it's true," she said at length.

He nodded his head.

" Is he the only one ? " she asked.

" No," he answered. " There are — many
others."

" Are they all on the scent ? " Tamar inquired.

"Two or three," he replied gloomily. "And
the rest will follow."

" You must have enjoyed doing it," she said
thoughtfully.

" Yes, I have," Adrian Steele said, brightening
up a little. " How well you understand, Tamar.
It is a comfort to be with you."

"You see, I should have enjoyed doing it
myself," she said, with her sullen smile. "Of
course, I don't know details. But, even as an
outsider, I can imagine possibilities and openings
of — a tempting nature."

He laughed softly.

" The one and only Tamar," he said ; and he
sank back on the couch with a sigh of relief that

1 82 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

he had broken the ice and could now put his
mind fearlessly in touch with Tamar's mind.

" This Hailsham," he said, " is the most danger-
ous of the band. Perhaps you remember that man
at the Meyntoun Moat sale, with whom I had that
duel over the Dutch ship. Well, he was Hailsham."

" Yes, I remember the man/' Tamar said
innocently.

" I had received his third letter, and it had upset
me," Steele continued. " So when you sent me
that catalogue, Tamar, that unmistakable symbol
of your forgiveness, I thought I would go and
forget my worries at Meyntoun Moat, and have
a bit of our old comradeship again. And there
I found Hailsham, to my surprise and disgust.
So I did a bit of prancing over that Dutch ship-
probably the last bit of prancing I shall ever do.
And mightily I enjoyed it ! It was stimulating
to me to see him become more and more angry,
as I became more and more cool."

" Yes, it was," Tamar said, with a laugh. " I
enjoyed it myself immensely."

" Of course, he knew I was defying him," Adrian
went on. " And when I walked off leaving him
in possession of the Dutch ship at £200, I really
felt I had had a good run for my money."

" Or rather you should say for his money,"
Tamar remarked, with a soft chuckle.

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 183

"Yes," Adrian said, laughing too. "That's
more accurate."

" I was proud of you," Tamar said, " And
now that I know in what relationship he stands
to you, I'm still prouder of your coolness and
courage."

"Ah, I thought you would be," he said, his
face lighting up with pleasure. " I said to myself
at the time that, if you knew the circumstances,
you would — well, rather admire me for the part
I was playing."

"You were right," Tamar said.

" Of course I was right," he said. " I know
you just as you know me. We know each
other — and love each other."

"Yes," Tamar said. "I suppose we do."

He smiled. It was so like Tamar to put it in
that way.

" Hailsham has always hated me because I have
despised his particular form of so-called talent,"
he said, after a pause. " That alone would make
him extra dangerous. But so far as money goes,
he is not the client whom I have — "

He hesitated. Tamar nodded encouragingly.
He went on.

" Whom I have taxed — yes — I think that is the
suitable and just word — taxed to the greatest extent.
'Taxed,' you understand clearly, Tamar, for valuable

1 84 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

services which could not be paid for — well, in the
ordinary way."

" I understand perfectly," Tamar said. " But
now you must be quite frank with me, Adrian,
and tell me whom you have c taxed ' to the
greatest extent, for we had better go into the
whole matter without further delay."

There was another long period of silence, but
at length he made up his mind to disclose the
details of his affairs.

" John Noble is the client to whom I might
be said legally to owe the largest amount," he
said. " About £ 1 5,000. But though I have had
reason to believe that he too was on the track,
perhaps 1 am mistaken after all. For he called
at my house to see me this afternoon, and left
a note to say that the arrangements for his next
play were in my hands as usual. That doesn't
point to distrust, does it ? "

" It points to knowledge and forgiveness, I
should say," Tamar remarked half to herself.

"To knowledge and forgiveness," Adrian re-
peated, staring straight in front of him.

Tamar did not heed him. Her thoughts had
flown suddenly to Nell Silberthwaite, for an un-
erring instinct of jealousy whispered to her that
this attitude of Noble's was due to Nell.

" She told me herself that Noble had thanked

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 185

her for reminding him of the debt which he owed
to Adrian Steele, and said she had done him
a greater service than she knew," Tamar thought.
" I depreciated what she had done, because 1 was
jealous. But now it speaks for itself. Yes, she
has done a big thing. A triumph for her over
me when she learns it. Perhaps she need not
learn it, though. Certainly not through me."

Later, a more generous idea took possession of
her.

" Yes, she must learn it, and through me," she
said to herself. "I shall hate telling her. But,
if we are going to be fair to each other, she ought
to be told. Besides, there is no reason why I
should be jealous. It was to me, and not to her,
he came for advice. Yes, she ought to be told.
And Adrian ought to be told that he owes this
service to her. But not now. It would thrust
him back into himself at once if he knew that we
had learnt anything of his affairs, except through
him."

She was right. Very little would have been
wanted o check his confidences even now, in this
hour of his need. The effort of speaking about
John Noble had been almost too much for him ;
and Tamar 's remark, that perhaps Noble knew
and had forgiven, brought back to him in a
flash of painful intensity the memory of that

1 86 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

friendship and close intimacy which he had ruth-
lessly betrayed.

" Let us pass on from Noble," he said, in a low,
strained voice. " I cannot speak of Noble. I
have always loved Noble, and yet I could not
spare him. I have always loved him, Tamar.
Why could I not spare him ? "

With something like a groan of pain he covered
his face with his hands; and Tamar, impelled by
a true chivalry, stole out of the inner room to the
shop where she sat motionless behind the counter :
a sure sign that she was suffering. When she
returned, she found that he had recovered his
composure, opened his portfolio and arranged his
papers methodically on the table, in the old neat
fashion which had always been characteristic of
him.

" Now about Noble," he said unflinchingly.
" He may know, or he may not know, Tamar.
But let us for the moment put him out of the
reckoning, and consider those others. Hailsham
I have 'taxed* up to about £1,700 — perhaps
rather more. Sanford and Cecil I have c taxed ' to
the amount of £6,000 and £4,000 each. Here
are their accounts as presented by me to them,
and there are my own private versions of those
accounts. You see I have kept two sets of
accounts. A dangerous but an interesting habit.

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 187

Now, one of my ideas is that with the help of my
own money, I might be able to — well, cover up
tracks. You see, I've saved a large sum of
money. It isn't as if I were penniless. I have
saved £15,000 — out of these taxes."

"Saved £15,000 ! " Tamar exclaimed, the Jewess
in her roused to appreciation of the sum and
concern for its safety. "But what a pity that
you should have to sacrifice any of it. I should
dislike doing so extremely, even in these par-
ticular circumstances. Very reluctantly have I
parted with my money at any time, as I dare say
you remember."

" Yes, I remember," Steele said, smiling in
spite of himself. " I remember well."

" I should certainly never dream of sacrificing a
farthing for any scheme, unless 1 could see clearly
that it was worth while," Tamar said severely.

"No, I'm sure you wouldn't," he said, with
a laugh. " If you did sacrifice your money for
any scheme, one would at least be sure that you
had made up your mind that there was very
little or no risk involved. But with me it is
altogether different. I know you think that
all people who touch their capital are both insane
and immoral. Perhaps they are. But I have
no choice, Tamar. You will soon see that. A
crafty and judicious expenditure of that money

1 88 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

may save me — and may not. But I must risk
it in either case. A year or two ago, if this thing
had been sprung upon me, I am confident I could
have averted the disaster. This last year I've
been — well — I've been reckless and careless —
especially with Hailsham. Yet I knew all the
time that I was playing with fire, in his case. I
have a suspicion that my brain got tired of con-
tinuous prosperity, and demanded from me a crisis."

" Well, you've certainly supplied your brain
with one now, haven't you ? " Tamar said, with
a smile which had grave anxiety in it.

Then without further delay, she gave herself
up to the task of studying his accounts, his notes,
his statements and other papers relating to his
dealings with his clients. She found that she was
tremendously helped by the practical knowledge
and general information she had gleaned from
Hailsham ; for she was able to question Adrian
Steele in a way which drew from him definite
facts and explanations such as he would never
have vouchsafed on his own account.

She saw that he had been appallingly unscrupulous.
He had eliminated matinees, cut off ending weeks
of provincial tours, left out the whole returns from
some of the obscure towns in America, and annexed,
in many instances, the greater part of the fees for
translation rights. As she got a stronger grasp

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 189

of the complications, it began to dawn on her,
with an ever-increasing certainty, that Hailsham
was right, and that Adrian had become entangled
in a mesh from which there was no escape. But
she did not allow him to see the faintest sign of
her amazement and discouragement. She used
the very best of her clever resourcefulness to try
and hit on some way of substantiating his claim
that the deficits, especially in the more recent
statements, were merely arrears and outstandings
which were now in process of being collected.

She scribbled out schemes and rejected them,
one by one, as impossible. With great reluctance
she attempted to apportion that £15,000 in such
a manner as to cover up tracks. But the situa-
tion appeared to her hopeless. And in any case
£15,000 was not enough for that purpose. Yet
not a single comment of doubt passed her watch-
ful lips. On the contrary, she turned to him and
said :

"I see plainly that I shall have to join the
company of the insane and immoral, and encourage
you to take out your capital."

"Ah, Tamar, I knew you would come round
when you had got the hang of the thing," he said ;
and he rose and walked up and down the room,
looking now at a piece of Capo di Monte, and
now at an old benitier hanging on the wall. It

1 9o OUT OF THE WRECK 1 RISE.

struck her how curiously detached he had sud-
denly become from his own affairs. He seemed
far more interested in the antiques.

He sat down after a time, and she noticed that
he ceased to make suggestions, or to exert his
brain to any great extent. Then it was that she
realized with a tender pitifulness, which increased
her reawakened deep love for him, that he was
worn out, and mentally unable to cope with the
disaster which confronted him. She remembered
of old that he hated any allusion to his mental
or physical fatigue ; and she pretended to ignore
his passiveness, and continued to behave towards
him as if he were collaborating with her in
this labour, instead of leaving it to her alone.

But when, later on, she asked him a question
about one of Sanford's plays, which, to her joy,
apparently had a clean record, and could there-
fore safely be sent in as an example of Adrian's
Honourable dealings/ she saw that he was fast
asleep.

For quite half an hour she scarcely moved.
She touched books, letters and papers with a
noiselessness of which no one except herself would
have been capable. At last, when the lapse of
time had made it clear that he was in a deep sleep
of exhaustion, she rose, crept like a mouse out
of the inner room, and returned with a soft warm

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 191

shawl which she spread over him. Then she fed
the fire. She lifted each piece of coal with studied
care, and glanced anxiously at Adrian to reassure
herself that she was not disturbing him.

So Tamar watched over him, guarding him from
all ill, as she would fain have guarded him from
the disaster which she clearly saw was threatening
his outer circumstances. There he rested, in his
own place, in his own niche in the inner room ;
and as she bent over the little masterful presence,
and looked at the keen intellectual face, she knew
for certain that she had never banished him from
the niche in her heart of hearts, and that the love
with which she had struggled and battled these
seven long dreary years had but been gathering
added strength, against which no further resistance
was possible. But she did not wish to resist.

She was thankful, thankful to give in at last.
Yes, he had spoken true words. He and she
were one. They were comrades by nature, meant
for each other. They knew each other through
and through, and no mere details of chance
could alter this root fact, either for him or for
her. Alpenrose, his little fairy daughter, might
claim the purest, tenderest part of his heart : his
wife might claim the inner shrine of the temple :
Nell, or any other woman, might claim a secret
altar within the sacred precincts ; but she, Tamar,

1 92 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

held the key which unlocked the clasped book
where her name, and her name only, was written
in imperishable characters. She knew that, as
surely as she knew that his name was engraven in
her heart, and set in precious stones found in
rarest rock, and that no tyranny of soul and spirit
which he had exercised on her in the past : no
scorn and cruelty which he had shown her when
he had wearied of the task of conquering her
sullen temperament : no estrangement, however
long drawn out : no memory of humiliated pride,
and no triumph of mental rebirth could, in
essence, separate her from him, or him from her.

They belonged to each other by reason of their
natures, their outlook, their methods, their aims
and ambitions. This very predicament in which
he now found himself, might well have been hers,
given the same conditions and the same possi-
bilities : for their temptations, tacitly admitted by
them both, had always been identical.

She shook her head sorrowfully for herself and
her own dishonourable tendencies, as well as for
those of Adrian Steele. She wondered whether in
union, since they loved each other, they could
have kept each other in check ; or whether they
would only have accentuated each other's failings,
and prepared for themselves a double disaster.
Or would they have been able to pursue their

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 193

chosen course with added carefulness, and thus
save themselves from the disgrace of ever being
found out ? Which would it have been ? She
could not say. But at least they would have been
together, and if ruin were to have been their
portion, they could have faced it side by side.
Whereas now, he stood alone, and she stood alone.
She had not even the right to share his mis-
fortunes.

" But why shouldn't I make the right ?" she said
to herself almost fiercely. " Yes, I will make the
right. If it's true that money can help to solve
the problem, what is there to prevent me from
adding some of my own money to that £15,000,
so as to raise a sufficient sum at once to pay off
all the arrears, and with accumulated interest too ?
There is nothing to prevent me — nothing, except
my own reluctance to part with my money. But
I could overcome that for his sake, if I could make
sure that money would save and re-establish his
honour."

This was her thought one minute, and the next
minute her love had soared higher. She would
sacrifice her money on the barest chance of
rescuing him from his difficulties. And now her
love took an eagle's flight : she would sacrifice
her money on no chance at all that either he or
she could see. So in this way, at least, she

i94 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

could link her life with his, if only for a passing
crisis.

With an excitement which had something truly
pathetic in it, she began to count up her consider-
able investments, and to plan how she could best
realize on some of her valuable antiques. Yes,
she would part with this, she would part with that.
One or two of the dealers would only too gladly
secure some of her treasures ; and Bramfield, her
jewel-merchant friend, would, of course, buy her
rubies and her finest pearls. In the midst
of her calculations, she had a sudden attack of
misgiving, and turned again to Adrian's accounts
and statements to satisfy herself that there was
some faint hope of warding off the danger by
money. But soon all personal concern was again
swept away in sorrowful pity for his plight and in
a passionate determination to stand by him at
all costs.

" No, he shall not be allowed to lose hope as
long as I can keep hope alive in him," she said.
" He must be encouraged to believe that we can
straighten things out. If I put my money into
the venture, he will believe it."

She glanced at him, and she shuddered a little.

u No, he shall not be allowed to lose hope," she
said. " If he loses hope, nothing remains for him
except- "

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 195

She broke off. Hailsham's words came back to
her : " If I were Adrian Steele, I know what I
should dor

" No, no — not that/' she whispered ; and she
covered her face with her hands, in an effort to shut
out the vision which rose before her.

The shop door rang. She heard it, and this
time hastened to answer it, so as to prevent a
repetition of the jarring sound which might arouse
Adrian Steele from his sleep. She stole out of
the inner room and closed the door. She found
her jewel-merchant friend, Christopher Bramfield,
in the shop.

"T. Scott," he said eagerly, "I thought I
must just look in upon you for a few minutes.
I want you to see this opal, which will delight
your heart and eyes. I myself have never seen one
that I like better. Isn't he a handsome fellow?"

" Yes," she said, taking it mechanically in her
hands and holding it up to the light

"And this red tourmaline," he said. "What
do you think of it ? Isn't it amazingly like a very
fine ruby ? f '

"Yes," Tamar answered, without interest or
enthusiasm.

"And here I have a few choice little rubies
of finest water," he went on. " I know you love
to see them all together."

196 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

He opened a little packet, and displayed about a
hundred little rubies of extraordinary brilliancy.
He poured them like a magic cascade on to a
piece of tissue paper, and with a tiny pair of
forceps separated them out from each other. At
another time Tamar would have been thrilled
with delight, for she dearly loved to feast her eyes
on a glittering mass of precious stones. But
to-day she just glanced at them, and nodded her
head with listless approval.

"Aren't you well, T. Scott?" Bramfield said,
staring at her in disappointment, for this was not
the T. Scott to whom he was accustomed : the T.
Scott who worshipped precious stones and whose
greatest delight was to drop in at Ludgate Circus,
where he had his offices, and sit enraptured, whilst he
showed her diamonds, rubies, sapphires, emeralds,
and every kind of precious or semi-precious stone.

" Aren't you well ? " he repeated.

She did not seem to hear or heed his question.

"Mr. Bramfield/' she said dreamily, "if I want
to sell some of my stones, 1 suppose you will take
them from me, or arrange about them ? "

" Sell some of your stones ? " he asked in
astonishment. " Well, of course, if you want to
sell them, I'll do anything you wish. That you
know well, don't you ? But it's scarcely credible."

" I want to sell them," she said doggedly.

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 197

"Well, I'd better see them now/' Bramfield
said, making for the inner room.

"No, no," Tamar said hastily. "Not now.
Don't go in there now. Some one is asleep
there."

" Who is it ? " he demanded.

" That's my affair, Mr. Bramfield," Tamar said
proudly.

" I beg your pardon, T. Scott," he said humbly.

He replaced his jewels in his pocket, and was
preparing to be off, when he suddenly fumbled in
his coat pocket, and brought out a little box.

"By the way," he said, "Willoughby wrote, in
response to my letter, that he had bought those
rubies from a young clergyman by name of Forest.
Here they are. They're not bad ; but the colour
is unequal, isn't it? And there are pretty bad
feathers in them. Still I agree with you that they
are attractive in their way. Well, I'll go now.
And about the stones, you know I would do
anything for you, don't you? But don't sell
them. Take my advice. Keep them. If you
are in difficulties, just remember that you have a
friend who'd never fail you."

Tamar nodded sulkily, and Bramfield hurried
off, but not without a puzzled and anxious glance
towards that inner room. She watched him dis-
appear, and stood for a moment contrasting his

198 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

tall and handsome presence with that tired and
broken little figure in the inner room. She had
made her choice between Bramfield and Steele
years ago, and had held to it unflinchingly,
throughout every phase of her desolation. Nell
had passed on and found consolation and strength
in the love of another man ; but she, Tamar, had
never passed on. If any one could have helped
her to forget, it was Christopher Bramfield, who
had loved her, wanted her for his wife, and
when she had refused him, remained her true
and honourable friend. But she could not pass
on. She had waited, unconsciously, perhaps ; yet
she had waited.

" Yes," she said aloud, " I have waited."

As she spoke, she suddenly became aware of the
crucifix rubies which she had wished to possess,
and which she was now holding unnoticed in the
palm of her right hand. She looked at them, and
her thoughts sped instantly to Richard Forest.

" Something set apart," she said.

She put the stones into her pocket-book.

" What would he say about all this cheating
of Adrian's, I wonder ? " she asked herself.

" Well, well, that's neither here nor there," she
answered herself brusquely. "It's not his affair."

But she could not immediately banish Richard
Forest from her mind, and her thoughts lingered

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 199

awhile with him in that lonely vicarage, in that
desolate little hamlet, cut off from the activities
of the world. He had written to say that he had
begun the repairs of the church, and that he hoped
she would come and see what was being done with
her gifts, which had made him exceedingly hnppy.
She remembered this now, and she smiled.

" Adrian would be amused if he learnt that his
cheque for £19 was helping to repair a church,"
she said. "But he would not grudge it to Richard
Forest — if he knew him."

Suddenly an idea presented itself. That
desolate little place would be a safe retreat for any
one in trouble. How would it be to persuade
Adrian to go there out of reach and in seclusion,
whilst she tried to arrange his affairs ? So far,
one thing only was clear to her in the intricate
problem confronting her. It was this : he must
be prevented from seeing any of these people who
were pursuing him. He was, in his present con-
dition, too broken to hold his own against them.
He must be urged to rest and recover himself in
circumstances which would ensure him freedom
from harassing interviews and hostile encounters.
Yes, it was a good idea to send him to Richard
Forest.

With a smile of tender protectiveness, Tamar
stole bark to her post. She fed the fire, and

200 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

kneeling down, added another warm covering to
the shawl which she had spread over Adrian
Steele. The late evening wore into the night, and
the night into the dawn. He still slept, and
Tamar still watched with untiring and anxious
care.

CHAPTER XL

Adrian Steele awoke from his long
sleep of exhaustion, he was at first amazed
to find himself in the inner room of Tamar's shop.
But gradually his ideas arranged themselves, and
he remembered how utter weariness of brain had
crept over him whilst he was trying to explain to
her his complicated affairs, how he had heard her
later questionings as in a dream, vaguely, and how,
finally, he had heard some kind of murmur which
did not reach him in any intelligible form. Then
followed oblivion, from which he now emerged as
the clock was striking the hour of five.

Yes, here he was in Tamar's home again,
amongst all the antiques which had always in-
terested him in the past. How natural it was to
see them. How natural, too, to be resting on the
little Jacobean couch. And there was undoubtedly
Tamar bending over her roller desk. A comfort-
able fire in the room too : an extraordinary

phenomenon, that. This, oddly enough, impressed

7a

202 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

him more than anything else in the situation. It
amused him fearfully, but touched him too.

" She has been ruining herself in coals for my
sake," he thought.

" Tamar," he said aloud.

Tamar rose from her chair and came to him.

" I'm glad you've awakened," she said. " I've
been anxious about you."

" Did you think I was dead ? " he said. " Well,
you see I'm not. A tired, worn-out brain ; not a
dead body. But perhaps there is not much
difference. Look here, Tamar, I want to say
something to you. You have been ruining your-
self in coals all the night, to keep me warm. I
tremble to think what you've spent in coals for
my sake. Thank you. Very handsomely have
you behaved. I shouldn't have thought it of you,
but I've been mistaken. One of my many mis-
takes, Tamar. And how about some coffee ? 1
think I'd better make that. You were never good
at making coffee. Other virtues you had, but
not that ! "

She smiled to hear his old teasing tone again,
and pointed to the coffee-pot which she had put
ready for his use.

" I knew you'd want coffee, and 1 knew you'd
make that remark," she said, with a soft laugh.

"There is very little about me that you have

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 203

not known," he said. " When I look back — well,
it's no use looking back — or forward. I tell you
I'm fearfully, frightfully happy to be here again.
Let us enjoy this present moment. But we can't
enjoy it without milk, Tamar. Now don't tell me
that because you've been extravagant in coal, you
must be stingy in milk ! Shall I fetch it from the
well-known empty larder ? "

She laughed and nodded. She was frightfully
happy herself.

He sprang up from the couch, and was passing
through the kitchen, when he turned round and
surveyed his surroundings.

"Tamar, you've got a number of new things
which you must explain to me," he said. "And
I must also demand that the iron safe be unlocked,
and that you show me your own private precious
stones, including that superb piece of magnesia
bottle which you fondly believed to be a fine
sapphire. By the way, did you put it in your
book?"

"Go and fetch the milk," she said, with her
sullen smile. " We'll unlock the safe when we've
had some coffee."

He went off, and returned with a milk jug and
some scones on a plate.

"Aha, I have found some old friends which
will toast nicely," he said boyishly. " Many a

204 OUT OF THE WRECK 1 RISE.

time I've thought of these scones, Tamar, and
regretted them exceedingly. They used to tempt
me to eat when nothing else would. Do you
remember ? "

"Yes," she said, watching him closely as he
began the preparations for breakfast, of which he
appeared to have taken entire charge. She was
thinking how amazing it was that he was able in
this way to detach his mind from his anxieties
and take his part in the set of circumstances pro-
vided for him at the moment, by fate.

She knew it, of course, to be only a merciful
suspension, and realized that, at any minute, a
peremptory knock of summons would come to
the door of his brain. But meantime he was
undisturbed and unharassed, and she was beyond
all telling grateful and proud that she, and no
one else, had been chosen to accord him this
reprieve.

"Let's open the safe now, Tamar, before you
turn sulky," he said gaily, in the midst of toasting
a scone. " You used to have trays and trays of
rings, and boxes full of enamelled watches, and an
unfailing supply of cameo brooches for the Amer-
icans. I should like to see everything you have —
rings and watches and vinaigrettes and necklaces
and purses of beadwork and pomanders — every-
thing— and above all, your stones, especially your

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 205

rubies. Out with them, Tamar. Put them all
on the table where we can see them properly.
You always hated doing that, didn't you ? And
I always hated having to poke my head into the
safe. That's right. Why, you have improved !
You're quite obliging ! Ah, there's my old friend,
the piece of magnesia bottle ! What a fine
specimen ! I should know it anywhere — even on
the marble floor of heaven."

She did not speak a word as she brought out
all her treasures and laid them on the table, but
she was secretly enraptured to hear once more his
playful teasing of her, which had been his own
peculiar and characteristic form of making love
to her. She had longed to hear it all these dreary
years, and now that the music of it broke upon
the paralyzing silence, she realized all it had meant
to her in the past. Here was his gentle fun again,
his boyishness, his lovableness, his charm, and
added to this, his trust in her and his love for
her and his happiness in being with her. There
was no mistaking that Adrian, as he divided
himself between his c domestic duties ' and his
delight over her possessions, was the picture of
happiness.

" Here's your coffee, my Tamar," he said.
" Made in my best fashion. Good gracious, what
a beautiful pendant ! I wonder where you got

206 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

that from. And here's your scone. Now you
can't find any fault with the toasting of it, so don't
try. 1 say, that's a fine ring, and no mistake.
One of your best rubies, I suppose. Why, I've
forgotten the sugar. No, don't interfere, Tamar.
You don't really think I need to be told where
the sugar is kept in this establishment ? Of course
I remember that it's in yon black cupboard, in the
ugly old ginger jar which I never allowed you to
sell. Woe unto you if you've sold it now."

He opened the black cupboard, and there stood
the old ginger jar in its accustomed corner. He
took it in his hands, put it on the table, and
turned round slowly to her.

" How was it I missed my way, I wonder ? " he
said, half to himself. " Can you tell ? "

She made no answer. She pretended to test
the hinges of an old porcelain snuff-box.

"1 was a fool," he said, with intense sadness.
" Yes, I was a fool, and did not realize that I had
found my true home, my true mate. If 1 had
realized it, all the tyranny of my nature would
have broken down, and you would not have learnt
to hate me."

" I did not learn to hate you, Adrian," she said
in a low voice. "I have tried — and failed."

" Tamar, Tamar," he cried, " I have never
really loved any one but you — none of the other*,

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 207

really — neither Nell — nor — nor my wife — yes, I
say it — I say it because it is true — true. You've
been the one I've loved, and I have been mad to
lose you — I — "

He broke off, for at that moment his leather
paper-case fell down from Tamar's desk, with a
thud, to the floor. He glanced at it, and his spell
of forgetfulness came to a sudden end. He
stooped and picked it up, and Tamar collected the
scattered documents. A look of great pain and
fear came over his countenance as he watched her.
He seemed to shrink into even frailer form and
tinier stature.

" 1 suppose you have made nothing of my — my
impossible complications," he said slowly.

cc Oh yes, I have," Tamar answered firmly. " I
made a careful study last night of your position.
I'm not sure yet, but I think I do see a way out.
Mercifully there's your capital. I'm quite recon-
ciled now to your parting with it. And I go
farther. As you have not enough money saved to
reimburse these c taxes ' of yours, I am ready to
put some of my money into the venture."

" Your money, Tamar ? " he exclaimed in joyful
surprise.

She nodded.

"Your money?" he repeated excitedly. "If
you are willing to do that, then you must indeed

208 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

believe that there is a fair chance of dealing with
the situation."

" Yes, I do believe it," she said. " You know
perfectly well that I don't part with my money
lightly. No one would get me to."

"You put fresh courage into me, Tamar," he
said, holding out both his hands. " You make a
new man of me. Last night I believed that I had
had my innings, and that the game was up. But
if you think that there may possibly be some
solution to the problem, why, there must be. For
after my own brain, which has failed me — yes, I
know it has failed me — yours is the only other
brain which I could and would trust. You
wouldn't mislead me, would you ? "

"No, I wouldn't mislead you," she said slowly.
"I am prepared to raise three or four thousand
pounds. I shall see it all back, with interest at 5
per cent., I am confident. No, rather say 6 per

cent."

" Any per cent, you like ! " he exclaimed.
"The great point is that you believe there is a
chance of squaring matters. If I can only get out
of this network, 1 can soon pay off the loan. I
can still make large sums of money, even if I have
to run straight. And I intend to run straight.
1 made that vow to myself when I was battling
for my little girl's life. Of course, any per cent.

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 209

you wish ! How like you to think of that ! But
you are quite right. Business is business. Always
the old Tamar, I see."

" Yes," Tamar said.

She had turned her back to him for the moment,
and he did not see the expression of true sacrifice
on her face as she accepted from him the usual
imputation of avariciousness, which she had, on
this occasion at least, deliberately assumed in
order to mislead him. But she was rewarded by
the success of her secret plan. He was reborn.

" Yes," she said again, as she took up one of
his sets of accounts and glanced at it. " Business
is business. But I tell you frankly that 1 should
not consent to mix myself up with the monetary
side of this affair, if you had not been able to show
two or three clean records amongst the plays.
This play of Sanford's, for instance, The Guest,
and Cecil's One Nail drives out Another, and Hail-
sham's Winning Number. It is a good thing you
took that precaution."

He smiled.

" I thought and planned it all out carefully at
the time," he said.

The smile faded at once.

"I only wish I could plan now," he said.
" I can't, Tamar. It's a most curious thing, but
I positively can't. I feel — well, I can only tell

210 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

you I feel outside my own skin. I could not
make a plan to save my life."

"Don't try to do it," she said. "I'll plan for
you. Now listen, Adrian. First of all you must
go home and tell your wife that you were taken
ill and were brought to my shop, where you
remained the whole night. If she wishes to come
and assure herself of facts, she can do so. The
only thing you need not tell her, unless you wish
it, is that we are known to each other. I don't
suppose she has heard of my existence from you,
so that this item would seem to be unnecessary.
But that is for you to decide. Needless to say, if
she comes to see me, she will never learn from me
that you are anything to me, except a stranger
brought to my gates. Unless, of course, you wish
otherwise."

"No, no, I don't wish it otherwise," he said
gravely. " It is better so. c A stranger brought
to your gates.' '

Tamar nodded in a businesslike fashion, and
dismissed the matter from her mind. Grace evi-
dently did not count in her estimate of the
importances of life.

"And now we come to something far more
vital," she continued. " If your little child con-
tinues to recover, I want you, in a few days, to go
away out of every one's reach. For a few days

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 211

you'll be able to refuse to see people, for the
simple reason that you have serious illness in the
house. And afterwards, 1 am convinced, it would
be safer for you not to risk running across any of
the band. I lay great stress on this. You are
not at your best, in fact, you are at your very
worst, and you might be taken at a disadvantage,
and might injure your own cause."

" Yes/' he said, " I know that. And 1 suppose
that's why I dread seeing any of them. If I felt
more fit, there is nothing I should enjoy so much.
Nothing, Tamar. But at present there is no
prancing in me. All the same, I can't go away.
I could not leave my little child. I could not
dream of leaving Alpenrose. That would be
quite impossible. Entirely impossible."

" Very well," Tamar said, making up her mind
secretly not to press him. " But promise me that
you'll see no one and do nothing until you've
heard from me. Don't answer any of these letters
until you've heard from me. Promise me that.
It would relieve my anxiety."

" I promise, gladly enough too," he answered.
" I'll see no one, and I'll do nothing. But it is
certain that I have definitely joined the great
company of irresponsibles, isn't it, Tamar ? "

" Don't be absurd," Tamar said, turning away.

He covered his eyes with his hand for a moment.

212 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

"It isn't absurd/' he said at length, "and you
know it. I've joined that company, laid down my
burden, and you've taken it up for me. But
there is this amount of difference between me
and most of them. I know what you are doing
for me with that clever brain of yours. I know,
my Tamar. In no way have I deserved it. That
must be obvious to you as well as to me."

" Those who need each other, have to seek each
other out," Tamar answered.

" Then in time you would have sought me
out ? " he asked anxiously.

" Yes, 1 suppose so," she said, " especially if —
like yourself — I had got myself into difficulties."

"Ah, that's the test," he said, "the test of
one's love, one's fundamental love and imperish-
able trust. And you're sure you would have
come to me ? "

"Yes — not willingly, but — I — should have
come," she answered. "You — you may make
your mind easy about that. I should have come
because — because I could not have helped
myself."

"Thank you for telling me," he said gently,
and he stood watching her wistfully as she sorted
out from his papers the special documents she
wanted and put them in the top drawer of her
desk.

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 213

He came near to her.

" Tamar," he said, " I know you love me, but
you have not said so once."

She looked up at him.

" I love you," she said.

He came nearer to her.

"Tamar," he said in a voice that trembled,
" never once have I held you in my arms. Might
it be now ? "

" Why not ? " she answered, as though to her-
self. "Why not?"

So for the first and last time in their lives they
stood folded in each other's arms, in a silence
which had something of sacredness in it.

The next moment he had gone.

/

The clock was striking eight when Adrian Steele
pressed the bell at his own front door and passed
into his home. He found his wife and the whole
household in a state of great agitation over his
mysterious absence. His wife had been sitting
up all night, and as soon as the early morning had
come, she had telephoned to the doctor to con-
sult with him what should be done to find Adrian.
They both agreed that he must have been taken
ill, and had probably been received into one of
the hospitals. They were telephoning to several
of the hospitals when he arrived amongst them,

2i4 OUT OF THE WRECK 1 RISE.

looking haggard and ashen, and apparently at his
last gasp of strength.

" Yes, you are right, I have been taken ill," he
explained. " I suppose I must have collapsed in
the street. No, I haven't been to an hospital. I
appear to have been conveyed to a second-hand
antique jewellery shop, and the owner, a Jewess,
watched over me. I understand I passed from
a long unconsciousness into a long sleep. When
I awoke, she gave me coffee, and here I am,
restored and in my right mind."

" Not restored," the doctor said, shaking his
head. " You ought to go away for a change,
Steele. You're worn out."

"Yes," Grace said, half crying as she spoke.
" He has half killed himself over little Alpenrose."

" Nonsense, nonsense," Steele said gently. " I
admit I am not myself. Brain fatigue. That's
all. It will pass. Apparently I have to sleep
after one of these attacks. I assure you I could
sleep for hours now, doctor. Most curious. My
brain won't work. Nothing could make it work.
It shuts up like an oyster. I try to think, and
1 can't."

They got him to bed, but not until after he
had satisfied himself that Alpenrose was going on
well. He sat by the child's bedside for a little
while, guarded her with all his wonted tenderness,

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 215

caressed the black doll, kissed the little darling
hands he loved so well, and when he was alone
with her, whispered some confidences to her, the
import of which was known only to himself.

" Yes, little one dear," he murmured, " it will
be all right this time. Tamar will see me through.
She won't desert me. She'll see me through.
And there won't be another time, Alpenrose, my
sweet. I've promised you that. I'll have a clean,
snow-white record after this. Like an untouched
Alpine snowfield. It will be all right this time."

As he bent over the child, the expression on his
face was one of ineffable nobleness and purity, free
from all touch of craft, contrivance, treachery,
deceit. His love for Alpenrose had ever brought
out the best in his nature, and the best in him was
triumphant now, transfiguring his countenance,
lifting him up on wings, wafting him to the temple
of ideals, opening the inner door of the secret
shrine for him to enter and seek renewal. If his
picture could have been painted at this moment, it
would have been the presentment of some fine
and lofty spirit, attuned to the music of distant
vision. And who can say that it would have been
a false portrait of him, since it was true of him
when that side of his complex character was in
ascendancy ?

His wife led him away, and he tried to allay

216 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

her fears about him, and to make light of what he
called his 'temporary surrender to inexplicable
fatigue/ She spoke with gratitude of the kind-
ness and care shown him by the dealer in antique
jewellery, and told Adrian that she should make
a point of writing and calling at once to thank the
Jewess. She asked for the name and address of
his friend in need, and Adrian Steele smiled
imperceptibly as he breathed the words, " T. Scott,
Dean Street." He thought that he would give a
good deal to be invisibly present at that interview.
He knew that Tamar would be impersonal and
impervious, and that Grace would never guess
from her manner that he had been anything else
but a * stranger brought to her gates.' He knew
that Tamar would be at her worst, sullen and dis-
agreeable, and that Grace, whilst remaining grate-
ful, would nevertheless be relieved to find this
curious person devoid of all attractive charm. He
knew all this, and the imperceptible smile strength-
ened itself into a perceptible expression of amuse-
ment which lit up his tired face. But it passed
away as he gave his wife instructions that if any
one called to see him on urgent business, the
hospital nurse was to receive the visitor and
explain to him that there was very serious illness
in the house, and that Mr. Steele requested him
to write rather than seek a personal interview.

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 217

" Why the nurse, Adrian dear ? " Grace asked.
"Why not I myself?"

"Because a hospital nurse is the outward and
visible sign of illness in the house," he answered
firmly. "And I wish it to be known that there
is illness here ; not mine, but the child's. You
understand, dear, not mine, but the child's.
This is my wish. Will you have it carried out ? "

" Yes, of course," she answered, a little uneasily.

As she was nearing the door, she turned round
and went back to his bed, and knelt down by his
side.

" Adrian," she said nervously, " are you then
expecting any one to call on urgent business ?
Are you by any chance in trouble ? I thought
you seemed so upset the other day when you
heard that Mr. Noble was here. I beg of you to
tell me. You must know that there is nothing I
would not do for you. You've always been good
and kind to me. But sometimes — sometimes —
I — I — wish — you — you would confide in me

more."

He stroked her head soothingly, and was silent
for a moment. He was thinking of what he should
say to her. He at last decided that it would be
better to tell her a minute portion of the truth, in
order to allay her suspicions and gratify her love.

" Grace dear," he said, c< it has never been my

218 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

habit to confide in people. Reticence has ever
been part of my nature. It does not imply dis-
trust in you, of all people. It does not imply
anything. It stands merely for a temperamental
necessity. But since you ask me, I will tell you
frankly that I have had a really annoying contretemps
with one of my clients — not John Noble. This
troublesome client of mine is one of these upstart
bounders, you know, who get a swollen head from
a sudden and undeserved success. He is disap-
pointed because his returns do not reach his
exaggerated expectations. Until I have decided
whether or not to sue him for libel, of which I
have ample proofs, I want to avoid being ques-
tioned on the subject by any of my other clients.
I might myself say libellous things which would
destroy my own case. Do you see ? So that it
is better for me not to see any one for a day or
two. That is all. Meanwhile, I'll rest and re-
cover, and little Alpenrose's illness offers a legiti-
mate explanation of my invisibility. Don't be
worried about me. I shall be quite myself in a
few days, and more than able to deal with any
business annoyance."

" My poor Adrian, and you have been bearing
this trouble as well as Alpenrose's illness," she
said, with pity. " No wonder you're worn out."

" I assure you, I never thought of it once

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 219

during the time when the child was in danger," he
said truthfully. " But now that the crisis is over,
one has to look round."

"Thank you for telling me," she said, as she
rose to leave him. "You have made me very
happy by taking me into your confidence. And
be sure, dear, that all your instructions shall
be carried out in the way you wish. I quite
understand. Try and not worry about that
man. When you're stronger, you will think of
the wisest thing to do, and do it wisely."

After she had gone, Adrian Steele lay thinking
of her and of the gulf which, unknown to her,
stretched between them, little Alpenrose being
the fairy bridge over which they passed, he
consciously, his wife unconsciously, to reach
each other. Well, life brought that. It could
not be helped. He dismissed Grace without
effort from his mind, and his thoughts sped to
Tamar, and lingered lovingly in the inner
room, where he and she had spent so many
hours of comradeship, and where, for the first
time to-day, this very morning, they had stood
folded in each other's arms in a passionate love
which sought expression too late — too late.
Why had he discarded her when, after much
battling, he had won her love in the past ? What
devil in him had ever prompted him, out of

220 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

sheer masterfulness, to compel a reluctant heart to
love him, and then to turn aside as one having
no concern with the havoc which he had de-
liberately contrived ?

He thought of Nell, whom in the past he had
wished to dominate because she was a modern
product, on which he had not until then had the
chance of trying his devastating influence. He
had called Nell c his best psychological experiment '
until he met Tamar, whose sullenness had in-
terested and attracted him from the first. Where
had he first seen Tamar ? Ah, yes. At a sale
near Westleton, in Suffolk. He remembered
telling Nell that he had made the acquaintance
of the very rudest person that ever walked
this earth. He smiled now as he recalled his
old remark about her : " Manners for minerals
only. No one else need apply." He laughed
gently, tenderly over all his old memories of
her, and he knew it to be true that he had
always loved her and understood her, and that
his only home was her obstinate and sullen
heart. He had cared for Nell in a way ; but
not in this way. No, his feelings for Nell, in
spite of his unkindness to her, had been those
of fundamental regard and reverence. Though
he had tried to wreck her, he was fully
conscious that there was something in her which

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 221

he could not reach, some idealism kept intact
from all hurtful influence. To this idealism he
looked up wonderingly, as to a star : distant,
unreachable, but clear shining in the firmament
of his life. And when he went to see her once
more, after the lapse of many years, he had
again caught a glimpse of the light which lit
up her spirit, and a feeble glimmer in his own
spirit had signalled to that far-off beacon in
reverent recognition, made more reverent by a
better knowledge of life and character.

He knew that he had to thank Nell for that
faint remaining glimmer ; and he thanked her
now, and mingled her memory with other
beautiful and purifying thoughts, the snow
mountains which they had both loved passion-
ately, the Alpine glow, the glacier rivers, the
ice cathedrals, the snow-laden pines, the spring
flowers. How often in the past they had
talked of, and read together of the mountains.

The mountains, the mountains. He was seized
with an intense longing for them. And why
shouldn't he go to them ? If it should prove
that he needed a change, and Alpenrose con-
tinued to recover, why shouldn't he go to his
own little favourite mountain village, lovely little
Wassen, with its church perched on a hill,
and its wild and lonely walks leading over

222 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

the mountains and far away ? Tamar had said
that he ought to go away. Well, and why not
there? No, no, of course he must not go out
of England. He must be within reach of
Tamar. She would want to consult him, to
refer things to him. She would spare him all
she could, but it would be necessary for her to
see him. No, no, of course he must not leave
England.

At last his tired brain gave out and he fell
asleep and dreamed, not of Tamar, nor Nell,
nor business, but of the Alpine glow which
fired the trees with a golden red radiance and
covered the snow-white mountains with a mantle
of mystic purple light. He must have dreamed
too of the spring flowers, for more than once
he murmured something about "the first little
soldanella."

Meantime, below, in the drawing-room, Nurse
Elinor was receiving James Knebworth Cecil,
who had called to see Adrian Steele on urgent
business.

" Mr. Steele would be very much obliged if
you'd write/' she said. "We have very grave
illness in the house- — the little daughter — we
have nearly lost her — from meningitis."

" Of course I would not think of asking to
see Mr. Steele personally in these circumstances,"

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 223

Cecil said. " I'll be off at once. Thank you,
nurse. Be sure and express my regrets. And
tell Mr. Steele that I will write."

He hastened off, disappointed at the failure
of his visit, but genuinely vexed with himself
for having intruded on a household of sorrow.

CHAPTER XII.

JOHN NOBLE arrived at Mrs. Silberthwaite's
J office one morning about eleven o'clock,
and was received by the little Suffragette clerk,
who was greatly concerned to have to tell him
that Mrs. Silberthwaite was out.

" Great powers," she thought to herself,
"supposing now that he has come to pay in
another handsome subscription — another two
or three hundred pounds — perhaps even a
thousand ? When these generous people once
begin, one may expect anything. If he departs,
his enthusiasm may depart also. He must not
be allowed to go away. I must detain him and
his cheque-book. Right sure am I that his
cheque-book is in his left pocket. I see it
with my mind's eye."

Aloud she said, in her bright little independent
way :

" I can't be quite sure, but I don't think
Mrs. Silberthwaite will be long. Would it be
asking too much that you should wait a little ? "

" No, it wouldn't," he answered, smiling at

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 225

her. " It is a most moderate request. Would
that every one's requests could be of that
temperate nature."

Joan Neville's eyes danced with inner glee.

"Aha ! " she said to herself. " He little knows
that with my mind's eye I am staring at his
cheque-book in his left pocket."

Aloud she said demurely :

"I will get some of our literature for you
to glance at. We have just printed five new
pamphlets. If you will excuse me, I will fetch
them."

" Heaven forbid," he said. " I can't read any
more pamphlets for the present. If I do, I
assure you, something serious will happen to my
brain."

She laughed an indulgent little laugh.

" Oh, we all feel like that at first," she said.
" It soon wears ofF. The mind gets easily
accustomed to pamphlets, as to other misfortunes.''

" I am quite willing to take your word," he
answered, much amused by her. " Meantime
I prefer to talk with you, if you can spare a
few moments from all that severe - looking
correspondence. What are you doing just at
the present, for instance ? I like to know about
people's work."

" I am acknowledging subscriptions and
8

226 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

contributions/* she said cheerily. "A stimulating
task."

" Upon my word, I really think I must
stimulate you still further," Noble said, laughing.
" Suppose I hand in my cheque at once, instead
of waiting for Mrs. Silberthwaite to receive it.
I have something else for her."

"We have already had one handsome cheque
from you," Joan Neville remarked innocently.
"You don't mean to say that we're going to
have another handsome cheque ? "

"Yes, I do," he replied, and he drew his
cheque-book from his right-hand pocket.

" Aha ! " she thought, " my geography was
wrong, but my instinct was unerring ! Well,
geography doesn't matter in this case ! "

" You see," Noble said, as he took the pen
which she offered him, "the pamphlets which
have half broken my brain, have also half
broken my heart."

He wrote a cheque for £250, and handed it
to her. Her face flushed with pleasure and
pride. She could not have been more delighted
if some tremendous personal benefit had been
conferred on her.

"You also care for the work you are all
engaged on ? " he said.

" Of course," she answered proudly. " Any

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 227

one would care who worked with Mrs. Silber-
thwaite. She brings out all the best of one's
ability and enthusiasm.'*

He showed her by a nod that he understood.

"And I have always been interested in these
subjects," she said a little shyly. " My father
trained us in them."

" Why haven't I been interested in them ? " he
asked regretfully.

" Ah, that's more than I can tell you," she
answered, and she was proceeding to write him a
receipt, when a woman of the so-called working
class came into the office.

" Mrs. Silberthwaite is not here yet," Joan
Neville said, nodding at her in a friendly way.
" Perhaps you will wait in the other room, will you,
Mrs. Carton ? You'll find a book of Paris fashions
there. That will keep you quiet, I know 1 "

Mrs. Carton, who had a bright, good-tempered
face, laughed and said :

" Yes, it will, Miss Neville. Dearly do I love
them fashions. Fairyland ain't in it."

"Well, you'll find the very latest," said Joan
Neville, with a twinkle in her eye. "The very
latest."

When Mrs. Carton had left the room, she
turned to John Noble and said :

"That woman is a sweated worker in the box

228 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

trade. If she works about fourteen hours a day,
she can earn about seven shillings a week. What
do you think of that ? "

" Why did you send her away ? " he asked.
" Why can't 1 speak to her ? I should like to
speak to her. If I'm to help, I ought to begin
to learn at once. In fact, I have already learnt a
lesson of cheerfulness from her."

" It seems to me the poor nearly always are
cheerful," Joan Neville answered. "Anyway she
always is. When I am feeling particularly de-
pressed, I always hope Mrs. Carton will come into
the office. Up, up, go my spirits at once then,
and I'm ready for anything. I'll fetch her back."

She rose from her desk in a leisurely fashion
and passed into the next room.

" Mrs. Carton," she said, " if you can spare a
few minutes from the Paris fashions, perhaps you
will kindly return. The gentleman here would
like to be introduced to you."

" Fancy you a-tearing me away from my one
and only pleasure, Miss Neville," Mrs. Carton
remarked cheerily. " Yours is a cruel heart, and
no mistake. This is a good number, miss. But
don't the women look sillies, poor afflicted things.
This poor imbecile, for instance. Well, well."

" Come along," urged Joan Neville. " This
gentleman is a writer of plays. He wants to talk

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 229

with you. And if you're not careful, he^ll put you
in a play, Mrs. Carton. A three-act play^ perhaps."

" Well, he might do worse, poor creature," she
replied, following Joan Neville into the outer
office.

John Noble, who heard her, laughed, got up,
held out his hand, and said :

" Yes, I certainly might do far, far worse ! And
how do you do, madam ? "

"Nicely, sir, nicely, considering the state of
trade, which isn't no state at all," she answered.
" And how do you do, sir ? "

"Well, I think I might also say nicely, consider-
ing the state of trade," he replied, and they both
smiled, and entered into an acquaintanceship which
was full of interest to the playwright and of
gratification to the sweated worker. For Noble
drew her out in a surprising fashion, and treated
her with exactly the same deference which he
would have shown to one of the fine ladies in his
own plays. And as he learned from her the
details of her day's work, and recognized for
himself the unconscious courage of the woman
and her entire freedom from bitterness of spirit,
his wonder grew apace, and with it his respectful
admiration and his fixed determination to work
for the Society.

" Why aren't you bitter ? " he asked. " It

230 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

would positively relieve my own feelings of shame
if you were angry and soured."

"Ah, I'm sorry I can't oblige you, sir," she
answered. " You see, all weVe got as our stock
in trade is our good spirits. No use being God's
grizzlers. We leave the grizzling to the high and
mighty. They can have it all to theirselves and
welcome, poor imbeciles."

"Yes, yes, you are right," he said earnestly.
" That's the right word — imbeciles ! "

So earnest and interested was he, that he did
not know that he had repeated her pronunciation
of the word. But Joan Neville thought it sounded
very quaint coming from the lips of a distinguished
playwright, and looked up from her stimulating
task of acknowledging subscriptions and smiled.

" A bad thing he paid his handsome subscription
in before Mrs. Carton came on the scenes," she
reflected. "He might have given twice the
amount now he has seen a live specimen of the
sweated class. I must again fix my mind's eye
on his cheque-book and wrest a few more hundreds
out of it. What a beast I am ! Beastly, but
businesslike ! But that's what I'm here for : to
promote the interests of the Society, and leap
upon my prey like a fearsome tigress."

Whilst she was taken up with these fierce and
secret designs, John Noble continued questioning

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 231

Mrs. Carton, who was trying to explain to him
how isolated a class the sweated workers had been
for years and for years, and how, in fact, they had
been imprisoned in their own conditions.

" We could not reach out to nobody/' she said,
" for there was nobody."

"I suppose no friends from the outside world
ever came into your life until you met Mrs.
Silberthwaite ? " John Noble asked.

" One friend only," she answered. " That was
years ago. It was him who brought Mrs. Silber-
thwaite. I remember him well, and should know
him anywhere."

Then she told him of a little thin man who had
come down to Bethnal Green and Homerton and
sought out the sweated workers — the box-makers,
match-makers, trouser-makers, boot-makers, and
many others — and had brought comfort and kind-
ness to many a despondent heart, in the days, too,
when it was not usual for people of his class to be
interesting themselves actively in the affairs of the
poor. They never knew where he came from,
and he was always mysterious and formal, but
wonderfully faithful in carrying out all he said
he would do on their behalf. And for years he
had paid the rent for three old women over
seventy-five years of age, until one by one they
had died ; and he himself had had them buried

232 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

at his own expense, and had been present at each
of the funerals.

" Faithful to the end — that's what he was," she
said. " The old box-maker had a name for him,
and that's what we all called him by, { Mr. Trust-
worthy/ I often see his little figure before me.
Tiny he was, and thin. And he wore an eye-
glass with a piece of black ribbon about half an
inch thick."

" Did you say he brought Mrs. Silberthwaite ? "
John Noble asked pensively.

"Yes," answered Mrs. Carton. "He took her
round to see our work and where we lived. I
remember what he said when they came to the
old box-maker's room. She'd been ill, and I was
there helping the old soul."

" What did he say ? " Noble asked. " I should
like to hear."

Mrs. Carton coloured a little from sudden
shyness, and said :

" Perhaps I can't give it quite right, but I think
he said, ' Well, and what do you think of our
superb England now ? Have we any right to set
our hearts on mountains and snowfields until we
see all this changed ? ' I never forgot it because
it sounded so queer. It was queer, wasn't it ? "

Joan Neville tapped her forehead.

" Sounds uncommonly like c Looking down on

OUT OF THE WRECK 1 RISE. 233

snow-white plains of mountain mist caught in
purple light/ " she thought to herself.

" Well, after that, we never saw him no more,"
Mrs. Carton said. " Dead himself, I expect."

" I scarcely think so," Joan Neville remarked.
" A little gentleman answering to that description,
and undoubtedly addicted to mountains and mists,
called in here the other day. He did not appear
to be dead. He appeared to be alive — and
masterful."

" All the better for the world if he isn't dead,"
Mrs. Carton said earnestly. "Wouldn't I just
love to see him again and thank him, too. And
all this time I've been thinking him dead and
gone."

" No, he isn't dead," John Noble said. " You'll
be able to see Mr. Trustworthy again — and thank
him."

He got up, and stared into the fire.

" Faithful to the end" he said to himself. " Then
why could he not have been faithful to me?"

For a moment or two he seemed to have lost
his bearings and to be wandering about in some
distant region far away from the brave sweated
worker and the cheery little secretary. But at
last he found his path back again, and turned to
Mrs. Carton with a challenging sort of mischiev-

ousness :

8a

234 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

" I write plays about the high and mighty," he
said, " about the people you call God's grizzlers,
you know. I wonder whether you would care
to come and see one, The Abingdons. I could
at least promise you the very latest thing in Paris
fashions."

Her eyes beamed with delight at his kindness,
and at the prospect of the pleasure he offered her.

" I'll come, grizzlers or no grizzlers ! " she
said. "And I don't suppose the poor imbeciles
are near so bad in a play, are they ? "

" Perhaps not," he laughed. "They have to
be rounded off to fit the picture. Now you must
give me your address and I shall send you the
tickets, without fail."

To the surprise both of himself and Joan
Neville, Mrs. Carton turned away from him,
covered her face with her hands, and left the
room, weeping silently.

John Noble looked at Joan Neville questioningly.

" It's the kindness and the courtesy," the little
secretary explained gravely. " Misfortune they
can bear."

She paused a moment, and then she said
cheerfully :

"There is Mrs. Carton's address. And I am
afraid you ought to have these leaflets and
pamphlets. This one, for instance, actually deals

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 235

with her trade. 'Box-workers and Trade Boards.'
1 think you would like to read that, wouldn't you
now ? And this one, c Report of a Conference
on a Minimum Wage.' And this one, 'Home
Work and Sweating/ '

"You seem bent on my destruction by
pamphlets," Noble said.

But he held out his hand for them, and
repeated her words unconsciously :

"Misfortune they can bear. Yes, that tells its
own tale."

Then Nell Silberthwaite came into the office.

CHAPTER XIII.

c T THINK there is some one else waiting to see

you," John Noble said as he followed Nell

into her private room. " A sweated worker.

Her time is more valuable than mine, poor woman.

I can wait."

" Oh, you mean Mrs. Carton," Nell said. " She
was coming to-day to help me with several points
in one of my lectures. But it is all right about
her time to-day. We arranged matters with her
so that she could afford to take a day off. It's a
holiday for her too, and she will be quite happy
waiting. My secretary will look after her."

"Well, no doubt she will amuse herself with
the Paris fashions," Noble said. "Your bright-
eyed little secretary seems to have provided her
with truly acceptable entertainment."

Nell laughed.

" My little secretary generally has brilliant ideas
about making every one happy and contented,"
she said. " I don't know what I should do without
her in the office. She's so capable and cheerful."

" Yes, she strikes me as that," John Noble said,
smiling.

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 237

" I literally kidnapped her from the Suffrage,"
Nell said. " She had been one of the Suffragette
organizers, and I knew her temperament and
training would be splendid for our work. And
she herself had always been connected with the
Labour Movement. Her father had worked for
it. Otherwise I could not have persuaded her to
come to me."

" I seem to have entered suddenly into a new
world, Mrs. Silberthwaite," Noble said, leaning
back in his chair, " and at a moment, too, when I
have needed to be rescued from my rut."

His eyes wandered to the mountain picture, and
immediately the thought of Adrian Steele drove
out all other thoughts from his brain.

" I understand that it was Adrian Steele who
first took you to the sweated workers," he said.
" Mrs. Carton was telling me that he had been
their first friend from the outside world, and that
he brought you. At least, I concluded it was he.
It could have been no one else, from the descrip-
tion and the circumstances."

" Yes," Nell answered. « It was he. If you
remember, 1 told you that he first showed me the
path which I should tread. I owe a very great
deal to him, Mr. Noble. I wish with all my
heart I could help him in his trouble. I know he
is in great trouble."

238 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

"You have helped him,'* John Noble said,
looking fixedly on the ground.

" I ? How ? " Nell asked impulsively.

" By reminding me of what I also owed to
him," Noble answered. " You see — "

He shook his head and broke off; but seeing
Nell's anxious, inquiring expression of countenance,
he put his own feelings aside and tried to minister
to her distress.

" You see, he has been — well, there is no other
word — dishonourable in — in some of his business
dealings," Noble said gently. " I am one of those
whom he has — disappointed. But, since seeing
you the other day, 1 have made up my mind
irrevocably that no harm shall come to him through
any word or act of mine. One less to pursue him
—that's all. Still, it is something. And such as it
is, he owes it to you."

"No, no, rather to your mercifulness," Nell
said, deeply touched.

"A wounded spirit often forgets to be merciful,
much less just," Noble said, with a sad smile.
"That's where you've come in. No, it's your
bit of service, and you cannot disown it."

" I don't want to disown it," Nell said. " You
cannot think what it means to me to know
that I too, in my way, may have helped Adrian
Steele."

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 239

"Why should we care, I wonder?" Noble
said. " You care evidently, and I care. Why
should we care ? "

" I don't know," Nell answered, with bowed
head. " I never have known."

"That sweated worker, Mrs. Carton, told me
that he had been a true friend to some of the
poorest, and faithful to the end," Noble said.
" And I ask myself why could he not have been
faithful to me to the end, since I loved and
trusted him. Mr. Trustworthy they called him.
Trustworthy. Why could he not have been
trustworthy to me? I can't answer my own
question, but perhaps you can, Mrs. Silber-
thwaite."

"I can only tell you that he never could run
straight," Nell said in a low voice. " Even in
those past years it was so — in everything, without
rhyme or reason."

John Noble nodded his head silently, and seemed
buried in saddest thought. Nell saw that he was
suffering, and that his spirit was wounded. She
longed to be able to say something which might
lessen some of the bitter pain through which she,
too, had passed in her own time. And at last she
took courage.

" Mr. Noble," she said very gently, " I should
like, both for his sake and yours, to say just this

24o OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

one thing to you. It may sound foolish enough,
but from all I know of Adrian Steele's nature, it
is true. It does not follow that because he has
deceived you, he has not loved you. You dare
not say to yourself: c This man has deceived me, and
therefore he has not loved me.' No ; you have to
say instead : c This man has loved me> and yet has
deceived me' There is a difference. There might
be balm to you in that difference, or there might
not. But I want you to learn direct from me, who
knew him intimately for several years, that the
secret scheming of his brain was not in harmony
with, but always at war with, the disposition of his
heart."

John Noble looked up.

" Yes," he said, " there might be balm in that
thought. Thank you, Mrs. Silberthwaite."

He stretched out his hand to her, in gratitude
for her words, and she took it in silence.

" Believe me," he said, " I will do all I can to
shield him."

" I know you will," she answered.

" And now I must show you what I have been
trying to do for your sweated workers," he said,
with a smile of distinct pride. " I've sketched out
a play, and I want to ask you if you think there
is anything in it. It is based on what I learnt
from you the other day and from your lecture.

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 241

Of course I am only making a dash at the subject,
as I know so little of it, and I'm sure I have heaps
to learn. You asked me to present a picture.
Now you shall tell me whether this is a picture —
an impressionist picture, as it were. If it isn't,
then I'll work at it until I have made it one. You
must listen for all you're worth, and pull it to
pieces as much as you like I "

Then he read her the outlines of a story of
the tragedy of poverty. It was called simply
Poverty. He had touched in lights, brought
out effects, accentuated values, gauged possibilities
in a way possible only to a great imaginative
artist, at the same time a profound student of
human nature. There were, of course, many
defects, the result of his inexperience in this field,
but he was conscious of them, and desired only
to be put right in his mistakes and strengthened
on his weak points. For, as he laughingly said,
up to this moment his attention had been more
or less directed on those members of society
whom Mrs. Carton called God's grizzlers, and
he therefore had to learn a new code, a new
outlook.

He was boyishly happy over this, his new ven-
ture, and received Nell's remarks with an eagerness
which had in it the simplicity of a true greatness.
In fact, he rushed at her criticisms with an em-

242 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

bracing sort of welcome which spoke volumes for
the sincerity of his service.

He had been there nearly two hours before he
rose to go. He arranged another interview with
Nell, and he told her ht, intended meantime to
redraft the play and bring it to her for stern
revision and correction.

" You remember you promised to help me down
to the very last shred," he said. "Those were
the conditions."

"Yes," she laughed; "we'll all help you. And
I'll take you down to see some of the workers
in their own homes. Or, better still, Mrs. Carton
will go with you to visit some of her own friends.
Also, we are getting up a Sweated Industries
Exhibition at Edinburgh next month. That would
help you, if you could spare the time. You would
learn more in this way than from anything we
could tell you here in the office, or from any
pamphlets."

"Ah, I'm relieved to hear you say that," he
said. "And I hope you will protect me from your
little secretary, who has attempted to compass my
life with pamphlets."

They laughed and passed out into the outer
office, where they found Joan Neville smiling at
his words, which she had heard as the door
opened. Merrier than ever looked her dancing

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 243

eyes, and more engaging than ever her bright
personality. John Noble made a secret resolution
that he would not allow this unexpected bit of
sunshine to fade out of his life.

" I've put myself under special protection/' he
said. " No more pamphlets for me — unless I take
this one about the Edinburgh Exhibition. Yes,
perhaps I'd better have it."

" I'm afraid I can't spare that one," Joan Neville
remarked severely. " That's just the one I can't
spare. I'm sorry."

But he defied her and put it in his pocket.

" Good-bye," he said. " And what has hap-
pened to my other friend ? Is she still studying
the Paris fashions ? "

" No," Joan Neville answered. " She got tired of
them, and went out to distribute some pamphlets.
She does not dislike pamphlets. She says they
are perfectly harmless things, and that no one need
read them."

"Ah, that's true enough," he said, with mock
gravity. " I had not thought of that. She's a
wise woman, that. You see, being a writer myself,
1 have cherished the absurd tradition that people
do read what is written. But perhaps they don't,
after all."

He left them with that, and Nell learnt of the
second cheque for ^250, and Joan Neville was

244 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

told the exciting news of the play Poverty which he
had begun to write for them. They were full of
his kindness, his generosity, his enthusiasm, and of
the immense influence of his name and active co-
operation, and they agreed that this had been a
red-letter day in the annals of the Society.

" Next time he comes, I hope he will write a
cheque for £500," thought Joan. "I shall be
seriously annoyed with him if he doesn't. If he
doesn't, I shall look out all the dullest pamphlets
for him, and they will frighten him so much that
he'll be thankful to come to terms immediately.
Alas ! how grasping I am becoming. And at my
age, too ! It's positively shocking. Well, at
least it's impersonal. That's all you can say."

But Nell, alone in her room, could not say that
she was feeling impersonal. She stood in front of
the mountain picture, and, even in the midst of
her delight over John Noble's splendid helpfulness
to her work, remembered chiefly that he had
promised that no harm should come to Adrian
Steele through any word or deed of his. This
at least would be something definite and satisfac-
tory to tell Tamar, and Nell at once became
buoyed up with triumph to think that she it was,
and not Tamar, who had been able to avert some
of the danger threatening Adrian Steele. Yes, it
was she, and not Tamar. But, instantly ashamed

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 245

of her mean - spiritedness, she reminded herself
sternly that Tamar and she had agreed to be
collaborators and not rivals, and that what they
both had to do, was to place their separate oppor-
tunities of service side by side, without distinction
or claim.

" All the same," she said, suddenly rebelling
against this virtuous code, " I am glad it was
myself and not Tamar. One can't help being
mean-spirited. And I don't care if I am. I've
never been able to drive Adrian out of my heart.
And never shall. Nothing has banished him.
Neither my marriage, nor my work, nor anything.
And it's all a pretence to say that we leave the
past behind us. We carry it with us, burden or
no burden. We don't leave it behind us. No,
I've never been able to get him out of my heart.
And I never shall."

She paced up and down the room, leaving her
box-makers and her chain-makers, and the whole
procession of sweated workers, to fend for them-
selves. She was unable to keep her thoughts
from Adrian Steele. She thought of his little
masterful presence, his stubborn personality, his
charm, his deceitfulness, his passion for power,
his ruthless abandonment of all who ceased to
serve his purpose, his mental tyranny, his curious
code of self-justification, his wonderful gift of up-

246 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

lifting, stimulating, his reckless expenditure of
energy and strength over his work, his large grasp
of affairs, his patient attention to details, all that
was great in him, all that was small in him, and
all that was unforgettably lovable in him — that
mysterious something in him which tugged at the
heart-strings of herself and Tamar, even after all
these long years — yes, and at the heart-strings of
John Noble too, and of Mrs. Carton and of every
one to whom he had meant something of love,
of friendship, of comradeship, of kindness.

She had told him, when he came to ask for her
forgiveness, that she had forgiven him years ago ;
but the moment of her true forgiveness had not
been when she had passed on and recovered her-
self, but now when she passed back, lived over
again those days of love, disappointment, and
humiliation, realized that she had never recovered
herself, and yet could hold out her hands in
yearning and tender protectiveness. If Adrian
Steele could only have known it, this was the
moment when the white snows of forgiveness
fell upon the mountains and transfigured, as
though by magic, the sharpened forbidding peaks.

Whilst she was still held by these thoughts,
the door was opened gently, and Joan Neville
appeared, her face rather flushed, and a gleam
of danger in her bright eye.

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 247

" I did knock several times, Mrs. Silberthwaite,"
she said. " Please forgive me for disturbing you,
but a woman — well — a — a sort of rude tigress —
that's all I can call her — insists on seeing you.
I asked her to state her business, and she answered
most insolently that it was her affair, not mine.
She refused to give her name, and she had not a
card. She isn't human in her manner. The rudest
person I've ever seen in my life. When I asked
her if she wished to pay in a subscription to the
Society, she abused our work in the most insulting

terms."

"Show her in," Nell said. "I think I know
who she is."

Tamar was immediately shown in by Joan
Neville, who was still dancing from suppressed
rage, and murmured to herself as she closed the
door :

"Another moment, my own treasure, and I
should have strangled you. Beware."

Nell had placed a chair for Tamar near the fire.

" You look cold, Tamar," she said. " Do sit
down and warm yourself."

" So these are your premises," Tamar remarked,
glancing around in a detached sort of way.

Nell put some coals on, and stirred the fire.

"And here you conduct this absurd public
service work of yours," Tamar said. "Anti-

248 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

sweating indeed. Why shouldn't people sweat
if they want to ? "

" But they don't want to," Nell said indulgently.
" That's the point, Tamar."

"Well, you know what I think of it," Tamar
said grimly. " It's ridiculous waste of time. If
you try to do anything for anybody, you only get
kicks. Senseless waste of time. I've no patience
with it."

" We all waste our time in some form or other,"
Nell said good-tern peredly. " It's just a matter of
personal choice, you know, Tamar. Make an effort
not to be hard on me."

" And that absurd little clerk of yours imagined
that I had called in to pay a subscription," Tamar
said. " I should like to see myself paying in
a subscription here."

" So should I," Nell remarked with fervour.
" Uncommonly I should like to see it."

Tamar laughed, with a soft little laugh which
betokened amusement, for she never resented
a shaft directed against herself.

" Your absurd little clerk offered me a pamphlet
on <The Minimum Wage/" she said. " I told
her that no wages I ever paid could be minimum
enough for me ; and I gave her a bit of my mind
about the work of societies like this."

" Well, we shan't actually die of despair because

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 249

you don't approve of us, Tamar," Nell said cheer-
fully. "And as for the work itself, quite apart
from the aim and object of it, it has been the great-
est help to me in my life. It has been to me what
your book on precious stones has been to you."

" If it has been to you what my book has
been to me, then all I can say is that it has
been a failure," Tamar remarked. " Yes, a failure.
I thought I had passed on with that book. I
haven't."

"I too thought I had passed on," Nell said.
" I threw myself more and more into this work
you despise and — "

"And you married," Tamar reminded her
roughly.

" Yes, I married," Nell said, " a noble-hearted
man with a fine sympathy to match his fine in-
tellect."

" I could have married," Tamar said. " But
I waited. I waited alone in that inner room."

A secret joy lit up her face as she spoke, and
Nell gazed at her in astonishment.

"You waited," Nell repeated slowly. "What
do you mean ? "

" I mean what I say," Tamar answered. " I
waited — for Adrian Steele. And he came."

"But you repulsed him," Nell said. "I was
there when you repulsed him."

2 50 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

" That may be," Tamar replied. " But he
came again. He knew he could come."

Then in a few words she gave Nell a bare but
honest account of Adrian's visit to her. She
described how he brought all his papers and
accounts, and how, after a great struggle with
himself, he had explaine'd to her his business
complications and asked her help and advice. She
said quite frankly that she did not think he would
have confided in her or any one except for his
broken-down mental condition, which was the
result of his terrible anxiety over his little
daughter's sudden and nearly fatal illness. She
did not dwell on her re-awakened love for him.
She did not speak of the long night watch in
the inner room. She was silent about his words
of regret, of longing, of trust, of love. She
kept back all the details of those happy hours,
the memory of which had become precious and
sacred to her for evermore. But it was clear
enough from her manner, the tone of her voice,
and the strangely softened expression on her
countenance, that the Tamar who had stubbornly
refused a few days ago to take up the threads
of the past, was now caught and held by the iron
bonds of an old, deep, and passionate love.

Nell listened, and a tempest of despairing
jealousy broke loose in her.

OUT OF THE WRECK 1 RISE. 251

" Tamar, Tamar," she cried in her bitter anguish,
" I can't help myself — I'm deadly, deadly jealous
of you."

" You've had other things," Tamar said roughly.
" What do you want with this thing ? "

" Yes, yes, I know I've had other things," Nell
returned. " You needn't remind me of that now.
But other things aren't this thing. Ah, why didn't
he come to me with his difficulties — you took him
from me before — and now you've taken him from

me again."

" It was his doing, and not mine," Tamar said
in a low voice ; " his free will, his own choice."

" Don't you see that makes it worse ? " Nell
cried, " and that I can't even hate you for it — I
haven't even that comfort — I who would have
done anything for him — anything — in his hour of
need — in — "

She leant forward over her desk, and her head
sank lower and lower until it rested on her out-
spread arms. She sobbed in an abandonment of
grief.

Tamar watched Nell for a long time in silence.
She was trying to persuade herself that the matter
did not concern her. But apparently she was not
successful, for she rose at length and touched her
on the shoulder. There was no response. She
touched Nell again.

252 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

" Look here, Nell Silberthwaite," she said, " I'm
going to tell you something I rather hate telling
you. You have done something big for him, and
something definite. Something far bigger than
I've done, and I envy you for it. That playwright
man, Noble, is evidently going to stand by Adrian
Steele ; and considering that he has been cheated
out of at least £15, ooo, his forbearance is remark-
able. He has written to Adrian to say that he
is placing his new play as usual in Adrian's hands.
Now this is through you, I'm sure. Your bit
of valuable help. You've choked off one of
the worst dangers, by honest and straightforward
means, and I tell you I envy you the opportunity
you've had, and your use of it. When I think
of my underhand methods with that blusterer
Hailsham, I — -well, I don't stand well with myself
in comparison. You've a right to take comfort.
Don't go on grieving in that inane fashion.
You'll make yourself ill. If we are going to
save him at all, we shall need all our wits, for
I assure you his own brain has lost its old
resourcefulness. He's ill, worn out. Come
now — that's right — gather yourself together like
a sensible woman doing so-called useful public
service work. I don't mind owning that perhaps
I've been rather disagreeable about your work.
Perhaps it does do some good. And certainly

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE, 253

it has been of use on this occasion, since it
brought you in contact with Noble. I think
you must have pleaded for Adrian with what
he'd call c superb ability/ Yes, I repeat it, superb
ability. A man does not readily give up his
chance of recovering £15, ooo, if I know anything
of business. You ought to be proud of yourself,
I tell you."

The rough comfort brusquely administered,
together with Tamar's frank acknowledgment
of Nell's help, had the effect of restoring Nell
to something approximating to self-control. She
raised her head, passed her hand over her eyes,
and with obvious effort kept back the sobs which
had been tearing her.

" Thank you, Tamar," she said, when she had
regained sufficient command over herself for
speech. "You are at least generous in your
triumph. Please excuse my — my weakness."

Tamar waved her hand, in indulgent dismissal
of Nell's outbreak, and said kindly enough :

" It was only fair to tell you. If Adrian had
been more easy to handle, I should have let
him know to whom he owed Noble's mercifulness.
As it is, he believes, or pretends to believe, that
Noble is not on the scent."

"Let him believe it," Nell said. "It will
appear so. John Noble has been here to-day,

254 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

and he promised of his own accord that no
word or deed of his should embarrass Adrian
in his difficulties. < One less to pursue him/
he said. Those were his words."

"So you knew already that John Noble
was going to spare him," Tamar said sullenly.
" I need not have troubled to tell you."

" I think it was most generous of you to tell
me, Tamar," Nell said warmly. "It makes all
the difference to me to hear it from you."

Tamar's face softened. She was pleased with
Nell's appreciation.

" One less to pursue him," she said after a
pause. "Yes, that's the whole trouble. There
are so many of them. He has been cheating
people right and left for years. I don't feel at
all sure that his honour can be patched up even
by Noble's mercifulness, or even by a wise ex-
penditure of money. I think in some instances
we can cover up tracks altogether, and in others
we may be able to make it worth while for the
authors to refrain from proceedings. But that
man Hailsham, for instance. He has only about
two thousand pounds at stake, but he is bent
on personal vengeance. I don't believe any sum
would buy him off. And he's the leader of the
band."

" Have you tried to buy his silence ? " Nell

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 255

said slowly, as she spoke pondering the
matter.

" No," Tamar answered. " I intend to. But so
far I've only attempted to form a general vague
plan of how to cover up the more recent frauds."

"Well, I will gladly find the money to start
off with Hailsham," Nell said.

She was amazed and almost frightened at the
effect which her words produced, for Tamar's
face flushed with anger, and her eyes shone with
a sudden dangerous gleam.

"The money is my affair," she said fiercely.
" If money has to be given, no one shall give
it except me. I shall sell out some of my in-
vestments. If necessary, I shall sell my jewels,
my choicest pearls, and my rubies."

Nell held her breath with astonishment.

" How you must love him," she said in-
voluntarily.

" You think that proves it," Tamar said,
glancing at Nell half defiantly, half proudly.

" Yes, Tamar," Nell answered. " You have
never been famous for wanting to part with your
money, have you ? "

" No," Tamar said. " You're right. My fame
has not been in that direction."

The thought evidently amused her, for she
continued :

256 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

" I daresay you remember the remarks Adrian
Steele used to make on that subject."

"Yes, I remember well," Nell said, smiling
in spite of herself at Tamar 's na'ivete. " He
would be astonished if he knew. But he would
also be stimulated, because — "

She paused.

"Well?" Tamar put in. "You can say what
you like. I don't care."

"Because — well, for the simple reason that-
knowing you to be — well — cautious with your
money, he would be encouraged to think you
— believed in the venture," Nell said, a little
hesitatingly.

" Yes, and that is exactly why I shall risk the
money," Tamar retorted. " In fact, I've told
him I'll risk three or four thousand pounds at
a charge on him of six per cent. I made a point
of the percentage. That made him believe at
once that I saw good business in it."

She got up suddenly and turned her back on
Nell.

" Tamar," Nell said gently, " I think you are
—splendid."

" Nonsense," Tamar said gruffly, without turning
round. " I'm what you are — a fool. Fools, both
of us. I've said it all along, and I say it even
now, although I wouldn't change my folly for

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 257

any one else's wisdom. Where do we come in,
really ? Nowhere in the scheme of things.
There's his wife. And this child of his with
the absurd name, Alpenrose. Why do we care ?
He isn't yours, he isn't really mine, he's theirs.
That's the simple truth, if we had any sense. But
we haven't. All the same, we've got to save
him, if we can. And his courage must be kept
up somehow. Otherwise he'll — "

She broke off and shuddered. Nell, sitting
at her desk, shuddered too. The same fear
dominated them both.

"Listen, Tamar," Nell said, after a painful
silence : " if you will not let any of my money
be used, you will at least tell me what I can
do in other ways. Since it was to you that Adrian
came for advice and help, I have no right to
force myself into your councils, but you must
not leave me out in the cold. It hurts my pride
fearfully to have to ask this favour of you. But
it would break me up to know nothing and do
nothing."

Tamar at last turned round. Her face was
pale. There was no anger in her eyes now.

" You don't suppose I'm such a duffer as to
want to dispense with your help," she said.
"You've done the biggest thing yet, as I told
you, and you've put your finger on the right

258 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

nail about that Hailsham man. I'll try and explain
the whole matter to you, but I warn you that
you've got to be ready to swallow an enormous
dose of dishonourableness. Adrian probably be-
lieved that I could swallow it without — well —
without much difficulty. He would not have
thought that of you. He always put you on
a higher plane. Perhaps that will be some com-
fort to you."

Nell shook her head.

" No, it isn't any comfort, Tamar," she said
simply. " Codes count for nothing when one's
heart is torn."

Some remark rose to Tamar's lips, but she
checked it, and at once began giving Nell the
outlines of the situation in which Adrian Steele
stood. She impressed on Nell that in his present
mental condition he was of no use to himself
or them, that they must think and plan for him,
and that the safest thing was to get him away
out of every one's reach until the crisis was tided
over, or the crash came. She advised Nell to
see John Noble again as soon as possible and urge
him to use his influence with some of the others,
Sanford or Cecil, for instance, and so prevent
them from taking action — at any rate for the
present. She herself would make an immediate
attempt to silence Hailsham. She said she be-

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 259

lieved there might be some bare chance of dealing
with the difficulties ; but what she most feared,
was fresh revelations from unexpected quarters,
which would nullify all their efforts, and pre-
cipitate the crisis.

Nell was deeply shocked and stirred by the
history of Adrian Steele's dishonourableness.

" How could he do it — how could he do it ! "
she kept on saying, shaking her head sorrowfully.

It was curious to note the difference between
these two women who both loved Adrian Steele
and were trying to save him. Tamar was frankly
fascinated and even stimulated by the temptations
to which he had succumbed, whilst Nell was
horrified by them and endured untold miseries
in hearing of them. Her very suffering was
a proof of Adrian's wisdom in having made a
choice of Tamar for his counsellor and director.
Yet even Tamar herself shied once, and gave
utterance to a curious remark which completely
mystified Nell. She said :

"I must pay out conscience money for him.
Something towards the boarding of the pews."

" What did you say ? " Nell asked in amazement.
" Something about pews ? "

" Nothing, nothing," Tamar replied crossly,
and passed on quickly to further important
details which at once engaged Nell's attention

260 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

and demanded from her the utmost limit of her
moral forbearance. She fought most bravely with
her outraged feelings, and tried hard to take a
purely business view of the whole set of circum-
stances. Tamar, who knew that she was suffering,
could not help admiring Nell's dogged attempt to
blot out everything from her mind except Adrian's
welfare.

" She too loves him," she thought jealously.
" She is doing battle with all her moral codes
for his sake. That's the biggest sacrifice a person
of her nature could make for any one."

In the midst of her attack of jealousy the
door opened, and Joan Neville came into the
room, bringing a letter which she put into Nell's
hands, at the same time casting an indignant
glance at her enemy.

" I am sorry to disturb you, Mrs. Silberthwaite,"
she said. "But I've knocked several times, and
the letter is marked c Urgent.1 "

The letter was from John Noble. It ran thus : —

" / have just seen enclosed paragraph. I want you
to know that I am at once denying it and having a
paragraph put in all the papers stating that my new
play is in his hands. But this is the sort of thing that
may frustrate the efforts of all those who would wish to
screen him"

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 261

This was the paragraph : —

"It is rumoured in dramatic circles that Mr.
John Noble, whose affairs have always been managed
by Mr. Adrian Steele, has now made a change in
his business agent."

Nell handed the letter and paragraph to Tamar,
and they looked at each other with strained faces,
and in silence.

CHAPTER XIV.

LJAILSHAM had for some time been actively
engaged in investigating his affairs and
mastering the details of the frauds which had been
perpetrated on him by Adrian Steele. Much to
his astonishment, John Noble, although obliged to
admit that he too had been defrauded of large
sums, rigidly refused to take any steps to recover
his money.

He had all along been most reluctant to
believe any of Hailsham's allegations against
Steele's honourableness, and he consented finally
to examine his returns, rather for the sake of
vindicating Steele's name, than of satisfying
any uneasy doubts of his own. His discoveries
had shocked and wounded him beyond all telling,
and in the first moments of his bitter disillusion-
ment, he might possibly have been persuaded to
prosecute the friend who had betrayed him, but
for his interview with Nell Silberthwaite. After
that morning, Noble remained immovable in his
determination to shield Steele as far as he could.

But there were several others who were willing
to follow Hailsham's lead, and who were quietly

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 263

furnishing themselves with the necessary sub-
stantiation of their suspicions. It took some time,
of course, to collect facts and the corroboration
of those facts, and Hailsham himself was waiting
for further advices from America and Australia,
when he would have his case complete, and then
could bring an action against Steele which would
mean a full disclosure of Steeled methods and
practices. Hailsham was fiercely determined that
his former business manager should be shown up.

He was vindictive by nature, and it was nothing
to him that his position had been made for him by
Steele's unerring judgment and untiring vigilance
on his behalf. He only saw that he had been
disgracefully cheated. At the back of his brain he
knew, too, that, intellectually, Steele had always
despised him, and had laughed secretly at his
gallery gifts. Hailsham hated him for that quiet
but supercilious contempt, and was in consequence
doubly bent on vengeance and the recovery of his
money. This very morning as he was studying
the returns of one of his earlier plays, The Winning
Number, he recalled the comment which Adrian
Steele had made on it, and saw the thin lips curling
into an almost imperceptible sneer.

" Yes" Steele had said, "there is money in this play
— much money. Not too much matter. And a negligible
quantity of mind. It ought to be a superb

264 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

Hailsham had never forgiven nor forgotten
those words : "a negligible quantity of mind."
He was convinced that Steele had always in-
cluded all his plays in that one category ; and
the sting of the implied scorn was as acute now as
on the day when it had touched and wounded his
self-esteem. A series of " superb successes " had
never removed this secret stigma from his pride,
and he was brooding over the re-awakened insult
and consoling himself with the legitimate if relent-
less thought that Adrian Steele would soon be
having his deserts, when he caught sight of a letter
which had escaped his attention. He opened it
eagerly, and the angry clouds cleared from his face.
It was from T. Scott, who asked him, if possible, to
come at once, as she had a specially good offer to
make to him.

" Some unexpected good offer for the Dutch
ship, I suppose/* he said to himself, smiling with
pleasure at the prospect of seeing Tamar. "Well,
I'll go off now, and only too gladly. Thankful to
change my thoughts to another subject and get
away from this wretched little scoundrel for a
while, and delighted to have a talk with T. Scott
again. A most haunting personality. Can't get
her out of my mind, and don't want to."

He turned to the Limoges enamel plaque which
hung over his writing-table. He had separated it

OUT OF THE WRECK 1 RISE. 265

from the many other pieces of china and enamel
which filled his room, and it stood out by itself as
a distinctive and dominating object of peculiar
interest, even as Tamar herself.

"A most beautiful piece," he said aloud
proudly. " Nothing has pleased me so much for
a long time. And the circumstances, too. She
didn't know its value, though ! She would never
have let me have it for £15. Why, it's worth at
least £60. A curious slip for her to make.
Well, I suppose the cleverest dealers sometimes
cheat themselves. And she's undoubtedly sharp
and clever, and has a keen eye to business. A
most mysteriously attractive woman. Yes, I'll go
to her now."

He gathered up his papers and locked them in
his desk, but gave a final glance at the returns
of The Winning Number''

" Rather curious," he said thoughtfully.
"There is no flaw that I can detect in these
accounts. Two matinees, extra flying matinees,
entire length of tours, translation rights, and
everything else faithfully stated and paid. If I
had looked at this play only, I should be inclined
to think I had maligned him. A good thing for
me, and a bad thing for him, that I studied
them all."

He dismissed the matter from his mind, and
9a

266 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

started out to see Tamar. He determined to
secure for himself, if possible, that Siberian onyx
snuff-box, which had greatly taken his fancy and
which had been haunting him almost as much as
Tamar herself. He knew that he would have no
rest until it was transferred to his own beautiful
little collection of snuff-boxes, and he was prepared
to pay a large sum of money for it. Sooner or
later he knew that he would, in self-defence, be
obliged to commit this extravagance, and he
reasoned with himself that he might just as well
indulge his fancy now. Besides, it might be
snatched up by some one else. Or T. Scott might
relent, and allow the South Kensington Museum
to have it, and then it would be lost to him for
ever ! And what a chance lost, what a permanent
regret gnawing at his heart !

For no enthusiastic collector, having once set
eyes on its beauty, could ever forget that
Siberian onyx snuff-box. He saw it now, dancing
before him, oblong, formed of plaques of Siberian
onyx, and mounted in chased and enamelled
gold. An entrancing little treasure ! Yes, he
must have it. T. Scott must give it up to
him. He must coax her somehow. He must
tempt her with an absurdly large sum of money.
But have it he must ! He rehearsed what he
should say to her, and laughed delightedly as he

OUT OF THE WRECK 1 RISE. 267

thought of the interesting interview in store for
him. Would she drive a hard bargain with him ?
Well, he must have it at any price.

But, by the time he approached the shop, the
snuff-box had retreated into the background of his
thoughts, and his heart beat with excitement at
the prospect of seeing her personally. Tamar
had a fascination over men which was all the more
powerful because it was unconscious. She might
plot, scheme and devise in a hundred ways ; but
she did not plan to be fascinating. Her attitude
to Hailsham had been exceptional, undertaken
entirely on behalf of Adrian Steele. There she
had deliberately arranged to please and propitiate ;
yet that which reached him, was not the charm she
put forth consciously, but the underlying and
elemental part of her nature, charged with a
mysterious magic which defied analysis. He felt it
now at once, as he entered the shop and found her
bending over the counter, fingering some rings and
bracelets brought by a tall, military-looking man.

" No," she said, even more curtly than was her
custom. " I don't want any of these things. You
can take them away."

The man made no remonstrance, but just
nodded and went off rather quickly.

" Stolen goods, I feel sure," she said, nodding
to Hailsham as to an intimate.

268 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

" How do you know ? " Hailsham asked, inter-
ested at once.

" From the man's manner,'* she answered.
" He was a receiver."

"And what tells you that, I wonder ?" Hail-
sham questioned. "What on earth tells you
that ? "

" Instinct, or genius perhaps," she answered
with a slight smile, which faded away into an
expression of uneasiness as she remembered the
task she had taken on herself of trying to buy
off this man's purpose directed against Adrian
Steele. For the first time in her life Tamar was
nervous, and her heart began to beat so violently,
that for a moment or two she could not find the
strength to move or speak, but stared at Hailsham
with an unasked question on her lips.

" You look tired," he said. " Do you feel ill ? "

"I am never ill," she said, controlling her
nerves with a great effort and gathering her
courage together. "A little neuralgic, that's all.
Shall we go into the inner room ? "

" Ah," he said as he followed her, " we shall be
nearer that Siberian onyx snuff-box after which I
am hankering. I remember you put it back in
the safe. Can I see it again ? "

Without a word she unlocked the safe, opened
it half way, and handed him out the beautiful little

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 269

snuff-box, which he took eagerly and began to
examine with enthusiastic delight. The collector's
rapture lit up his face ; and oblivion to all outer
circumstances possessed his whole being. Tamar,
watching him like a lynx, saw the signs she knew
so well from long experience, and said to herself
that the snuff-box was as good as sold. But she
was too anxious and troubled to feel any elation,
and the one thought in her mind was how she
could best lay her proposition before him. Sud-
denly it struck her that the snuff-box itself would
help her out with her scheme, and she determined
to include it in the offer which she was going to
make to him.

" If you like it so much," she said, " it will be
easy enough for you to gratify your wish when
you have heard the offer I have to make to
you."

"Ah," he said, looking up, "that offer of
course ! About the Dutch ship, no doubt. How
clever of you ! You've done a better deal with it
than you expected, I suppose ? "

"It. isn't about the Dutch ship," Tamar said
bluntly.

" Well, what is it ? " Hailsham asked pleasantly.

There was a pause.

" It is about Adrian Steele," Tamar said.

" Adrian Steele," Hailsham repeated, putting

270 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

down the snuff-box on Tamar's desk, and turning
to her in amazement.

" Yes/' she said. " I may as well tell you at
once that, in the past, I used to know Adrian
Steele."

" You used to know Adrian Steele ? " Hailsham
repeated, as in a dream.

" Yes/' Tamar said quietly.

" And you have been allowing me to believe all
this time that he was a stranger to you ? " Hail-
sham asked impulsively.

" Yes," Tamar answered with great calmness.

" Perhaps you will tell me why ? " Hailsham
asked with increasing excitement.

" Because I wished to learn from you certain
facts which it was imperative for me to know,"
Tamar replied.

"And did you learn them ?" he said.

"Yes, thank you/' Tamar answered regally.

" Upon my word, you are cool, and no mistake,"
Hailsham said with a short laugh. But even in
the midst of his surprise and disconcertedness, he
could not help being influenced by her quiet
imperiousness, which seemed to claim a rightful
place for her amongst those people privileged by
nature and birth to do as they please, without let
or hindrance.

" To proceed," Tamar said, without taking any

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 271

notice of his remark, " I desire to offer you the
sum of £3,000 in settlement of your claim on
Adrian Steele. Will you accept it ? "

" Do you know," Hailsham exclaimed, " I
don't think you realize at all how you take me
by surprise."

" Oh yes, I do," Tamar said, with one of her
sullen smiles. " Don't imagine for a moment that
you are the only astonished person in this matter.
I assure you, I take myself much by surprise
also. I should never have believed it, if I had
been told a fortnight ago that I should offer any
one £3,000 in settlement of Adrian Steele's affairs."

" But why should you offer it now ? " he asked
excitedly.

"Three thousand pounds," Tamar continued,
" and the Siberian onyx snuff-box. I throw that
in — and gladly, since you like it so well."

"I must really ask you to explain yourself,"
Hailsham said, a little impatiently. " I don't
understand the situation. You tell me that you
know Adrian Steele. Well, am I to understand
that he has empowered you to make this offer on
his behalf?"

"No," Tamar said emphatically. "The offer
comes direct from me. Adrian Steele has no
means of knowing that I am acquainted with you."

" Why don't you explain yourself at once ? "

272 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

Hailsham said, still more impatiently. " Why do
you keep up this absurd mystery ? "

" There would not appear to be much mystery
about the money," Tamar said with provoking
quietness, pointing to a batch of papers on her
desk. " Here are certificates and securities for
£3,000. Central Argentine Railway, Johannes-
burg Municipal, Canadian and Pacific, and some
others. You can examine them now. Take
them and look at them now."

He shook his head angrily. He almost refused
to see them.

" You know perfectly well that I am not refer-
ring to the money," he said, with blustering
brusqueness. " I'm referring to your relationship
to Adrian Steele. What are you to him ? What
is he to you ? What impels you to stand up and
offer me £3,000 in settlement of my claim on
him ? That's the first thing I want to learn, and
you'll just have to tell me."

" I stand rudeness from no one," Tamar said
slowly. " Rudeness has always been considered
my own speciality. If you can't put your
questions in a civil tone and without losing
control of your temper, you'd better go — and at
once. The negotiations are all off."

She stood immovable, with her eye fixed on
him. He capitulated to her.

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 273

" I am really sorry," he said humbly. " Really
very sorry, believe me."

She accepted his apology with a slight, almost
imperceptible inclination of the head, the formality
of which seemed to warn him that he would have to
be on his guard, if he wished to remain in her shop.

"Perhaps you would allow me to put the
question in this way," he said. " What concern
have you practically with Adrian Steele's affairs ? "

Tamar remained silent for a moment, making a
final search for the right idea to guide her words.
She had been purposely beating about the bush in
this vague fashion so as to gain time for reflection.
And now a sudden conviction took possession of
her, and a brilliant thought leapt into her clever
brain. It was no use telling Hailsham that her
concern was that of some one who loved Adrian
Steele. She would have more chance of gaining
her ends if she represented herself in another light.
Why had not she thought of that before ? But
it was not too late. She took the plunge delib-
erately.

" The concern of an old enemy," she said in a
low voice.

Hailsham's face brightened immediately. It
was obvious that he was enormously relieved.

"Of an old enemy," he repeated eagerly.
" Then you too have a grudge against him ? "

274 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

"Yes," she said grimly. "I want to get him
in my power. I want to pay off old scores. I
intend to pay off old scores."

"Ah, but that's what I want to do," Hailsham
exclaimed, " pay off old scores, mental as well as
monetary."

As he spoke, a vision of his little scornful
enemy rose before him, and those contemptuous
words echoed in his ears : " a negligible quantity of
mind." They revived in his mind the stinging
remembrance of Steele's habitual disparagement of
his plays, from an intellectual point of view. Once
again he saw those thin lips forming into an
indulgent sneer, and the keen face assuming an
expression of subdued amusement. " A negligible
quantity of mind." No, by Heaven, no. No
one except himself should deal with this mocking
little scoundrel. Not for £30,000 — not for
£300,000 — not for all the art treasures in the
world. He would handle Adrian Steele himself,
and without mercy.

The vision faded. Hailsham looked up and
saw Tamar watching him with an interest which
seemed to have great kindness in it.

" I realize that I ask a great deal of you,"
she said. " You probably feel that you would
rather do anything than part with your re-
venge ? "

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 275

" How do you know that ? " he asked impul-
sively.

" Because I should feel the same," she answered
with a smile. " I, too, should hate to part with
my revenge."

"By Jove," he said, "you do understand."

She nodded.

" I have had bitter experience," she said
dreamily. "You spoke of paying off mental
scores. So you, too, must have experienced his
intellectual contempt. I don't remember whether
I showed you my book on precious stones.
Well, I wrote it as a vindication to myself of my
own powers, which he had always depreciated. I
never rested until I had finished it."

Hailsham drew a deep breath of satisfaction
and relief.

"Ah," he said, "don't I just understand, too."

He stretched out his hand in sign of comrade-
ship, and Tamar pressed it in grave silence.

" I should like to see your book on precious
stones," he said.

She took it from the bookshelf and put it into
his hands, and whilst he was glancing at it, she
quietly produced from the safe one or two of her
finest stones and her most valuable pearls. When
he looked up from the book and saw them, he gave
an exclamation of delighted surprise.

276 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

"You prepare for me one surprise after an-
other," he said. " You make me a most astound-
ing business offer. You appear in the unexpected
r61e of a fellow author. And without any
warning you disclose the most beautiful stones.
I wonder what you're going to do next."

She did not speak. She examined her pearls.

" And you are willing to pay the sum of £3,000
to get him into your own personal power,"
Hailsham remarked thoughtfully, after a pause.
" A heavy price for revenge."

"Oh, don't imagine that I shan't get it all
back," she said quietly, "every farthing of it —
and with a commission of at least I2j per cent.
I see good business in it as well as revenge."

" What an extraordinary woman you are, upon
my soul ! " Hailsham said, with a puzzled smile
on his face.

"I am a Jewess," Tamar said with dignity.
"A Jewess never forgets an injury and, at the
same time, never neglects to take the opportunity
of doing good business."

The puzzled expression on Hailsham's face
changed into one of added interest and admiration,
for Tamar looked magnificent in her pride, as she
claimed, without flinching, the special character-
istics of her race. She waited a moment, and
then went on :

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 277

" Seven years ago Adrian Steele played havoc
with my life. For seven years I have waited.
Seven years. That's a long time. And now
comes my opportunity. I naturally grasp at it.
What have you to say to my offer ? I admit I
have used you. Well, what of that ? You've
been using me probably — studying me for one of
your plays, perhaps. And rightly so. I don't
grudge it to you. If people don't use their
opportunities in life, they're fools. At any rate,
in this instance, neither you've been a fool nor I've
been a fool. I wanted to get information out of
you, and I got it. You wanted to learn some-
thing about me as a dealer in antiques and as a
woman. Well, you've seen my choicest treasures
and you've learnt something at least of my nature.
It seems to me that so far we have not done
badly."

" I am afraid I can't deny that I have been
studying you," Hailsham said frankly. " You've
interested me fearfully. I've never met any one
like you before. But, in justice to myself, I want
to say that what began in mere curiosity, has
already passed on to real and genuine personal
regard. Will you forgive me for taking the liberty
in saying this ? I can't help myself."

" You needn't try to help yourself," Tamar
said, half sullenly, half encouragingly. "I don't

278 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

mind owning that I, too, have changed in my
attitude towards you. I began by making use
of you, and I shouldn't be surprised if I ended
by-"

" By loving me, T. Scott ! " he exclaimed with
sudden passion. " Say that — say that ! "

She never flinched.

" It's too early to say that," she answered with
an indulgent smile, which nevertheless had some-
thing authoritative in it. "You'll spoil things
between us if you go on in that ridiculous fashion."

" Forgive me," he said, controlling himself.
"I beg of you to forgive me."

" I forgive you willingly enough," she replied,
with a soft little laugh. " But meanwhile we're
wasting time, and I have to go out and attend
a sale of Old English silver plate at Christie's.
Perhaps you'd like to come with me, by the way.
Now will you or will you not accept my offer —
£3,000 and the Siberian onyx snuff-box ? "

" It is a most unheard-of proposition," Hailsham
said, getting up from his chair and leaning against
the mantelshelf. " I really don't know what to
make of it."

" It is a good business proposition," Tamar
answered. " You told me yourself that you have
been defrauded of nearly £2,000. You will get
your money back and make £1,000."

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 279

" But you have only my word for it that I have
been defrauded," he said, turning to her. " You
must trust me enormously.'*

A curious smile came over her face.

" I have no doubt that you are trustworthy,"
she said. " But to begin with, no one would
think of entering on a prosecution unless he had
definite facts to go on. And it goes without
saying that I should want those definite facts — all
of them."

"And when you've got them, what are you
going to do with them ? " Hailsham asked.

" Keep them hanging over him," she answered
slowly. " Allow each one to descend on him, one
by one, one by one. You needn't fear he won't
be punished."

Hailsham stood lost in thought. After all, why
should he not accept this offer ? He was fond of
money, and lived the sort of life which needed
a lot of money. Here was £1,000 thrown at
his head for nothing — except silence. A bribe to
pass on his carefully prepared revenge to some
one who was as hostile as himself towards Adrian
Steele, indeed more so, since, according to T.
Scott's own words, she had certainly been nursing
her anger for seven years. Why shouldn't he
let her deal with Adrian Steele in her own way,
and drop the matter himself, with £1,000 — no—

280 OUT OF THE WRECK 1 RISE.

£3,000 to the good, no further trouble about the
matter, and the Siberian onyx snuff-box and her
regard, her friendship, her gratitude — perhaps her
love — into the bargain ? It was years since a
woman had exercised such a fascination over
him. Why shouldn't he accept her offer ? Why
shouldn't he do this to please her, to gain favour
in her eyes ? After all, John Noble was not
going to prosecute. What should prevent him,
given these favourable conditions, from following
John Noble's example ?

All these arguments passed through Hailsham's
mind, and he felt desperately tempted to accept
Tamar's offer. He was so entirely dominated by
her personality that, for the moment, he was
conscious of no resentment at the way in which
she had used him, probed him and turned him
inside out. Indeed, her calm frankness in owning
up to her conduct, had even impressed him as
something fine and great. He admired, too, her
discerning cleverness which recognized and under-
stood the author's instinct in him to study and
analyze an unfamiliar type. And in addition, the
fierce hostility which they had in common against
Adrian Steele, linked her to him in a close tie
of fellowship. Finally and firstly, T. Scott, the
woman, held him : the Jewess, the Roman
Empress whom his pen would never be able to

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 281

describe. He was, in short, under the subtle
magic of her spell, in surroundings which, to an
enthusiastic collector, were in themselves enchanted
ground. Her presence there, in her own setting,
completed the enchantment of the atmosphere.
She was that atmosphere, and that atmosphere
was herself. In his coarse-grained and rather
commonplace nature ran a fine thread of unalloyed
artistic appreciation which Tamar had at once
detected. She held him by that thread, as well
as by her own mysterious and compelling charm.

He was at the point of yielding to her extra-
ordinary proposal, and allowing her to carry out
the punishment and destruction of Adrian Steele
in her own way, when suddenly there came a
ring at the shop door. Tamar, contrary to her
custom, and probably because she was excited and
triumphant at having brought Hailsham thus far,
hurried off to answer the bell. Perhaps, too, she
was anxious to keep the coast clear of any in-
opportune visitor, and deemed it wise to run no
risks of a chance call, for instance, from Adrian
Steele himself. In her haste she forgot to roll
back the top of her roller desk, and lock it.

She also forgot to restore her jewels to the safe,
and lock that. It was the first time that she had
ever omitted the precautions enjoined on her by
her mother, and hitherto carried out by her with a

282 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

sort of sacramental faithfulness. She was destined
to pay dearly for her negligence.

Hailsham had no intention of prying, for he
was as honest and open as the day. But it sud-
denly struck him that he might just as well have
a look at those certificates which T. Scott had
pressed on him for inspection, and on which he
had at the moment rudely refused to bestow so
much as a passing glance. What had she said
they were ? Ah yes, Central Argentine Rail-
ways and Johannesburg Municipals and Canadian
Pacifies. Good investments, all. There they were.
There could be no harm in looking at them.

He advanced to the desk, took them from the
top of a pile of other papers, and was just going
to examine them, when his eye was attracted to
a letter which had been covered up by the certifi-
cates, but now lay before him, staring him full in
the face. He gazed at it, at first half stupidly,
and then with sudden recognition.

cc My own handwriting," he exclaimed. cc My
own handwriting. Well, that's odd.''

" Why, it's one of my own letters — to — Adrian
Steele," he cried. "What on earth is it doing
here ? "

It was his letter to Steele announcing, in a few
words, his intention to investigate his affairs. He
snatched it up and found, to his utter astonish-

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 283

ment, that it was attached to a detailed statement
of the returns of his play The Winning Number.
On the top was written in Steele's handwriting
these words :

" You will find this flawless.— A. <S."

"Great powers," he gasped out. "So that's
it. She has been duping me."

A realization of the truth swept over him like
an avalanche. The colour mounted to his face,
and an almost uncontrolled anger to his brain.
In a flash he saw that T. Scott had been trying
to trap and trick him, and that she was Adrian
Steele's confederate and not his enemy. Fool
that he had been not to take it in from the begin-
ning. Everything pointed to this explanation of
her attitude towards him. She had encouraged
him to come to her shop, shown him her treasures,
fostered his enthusiasm, got rid of the Dutch
ship for him, let him have that valuable Limoges
enamel for a mere trifle, cajoled him, humoured,
enticed him— and all for this — to get him in her
power — yes, to get him in her power and then
wrest from him, with another bribe, the right
of dealing with Adrian Steele's business frauds.
Confederates — that's what they were — not enemies.
Confederates — allies. Why, she had told him her-

284 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

self that she had wanted to get information out
of him. Fool that he had been — why didn't that
alone warn him ? Yes, yes, and he remembered
now that he had never once mentioned to her the
exact amount of the unpaid returns due to him
from Steele. Never once, because his statistics
were not complete. He had spoken vaguely of
hundreds of pounds. He remembered that well.
Nothing more definite than that. So that it was
from Steele himself that she must have learnt
the approximate figure of £2,000. Fool that he
had been to allow himself to come even for a
moment under the spell of her influence. Well,
he was free from it now, and she should hear
what he thought of her.

He threw the papers back on to the desk.
He dashed into the shop, where he found Tamar
alone, making some entry in a book.

a A treacherous, designing woman, that's what
you are," he shouted, almost beside himself with
rage. "A confederate of Adrian Steele's. A
well-matched pair, the two of you."

She leaned with her elbows on the counter.
Her face showed no sign of perturbation.

" How do you know that ? " she asked calmly,
as if the matter were of no concern to her.

"You should not leave your desk open," he
retorted excitedly.

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 285

" No, you're right," she said still calmly, though a
sudden and terrible fear seized her. " It's never safe."

" Oh, don't imagine I've been prying amongst
your damned papers," he shouted. " I lifted up
your certificates which you yourself asked me to
examine, as I made up my mind to accept your
offer — yes — to accept it — fool that I was, and there
I saw a letter in my own handwriting to Adrian
Steele, staring me in the face. Perhaps you
remember what it is."

A slight tremor passed over her face. She
remembered that she had forgotten to lock up in
an inner drawer one or two of Adrian's papers
which she had been studying just before Hailsham
came. But she maintained an outward composure,
and ignoring Hailsham, strolled casually into the
inner room, where she stood before her desk. He
followed her and snatched up his letter and the
accounts of The Winning Number.

" There ! " he exclaimed. " You can't deny
that my letter and the statement of The Winning
Number testify against you."

"No, I can't," she said.

"You can't deny that you've tried to entrap
and deceive me," he went on.

« No," she answered, " I can't."

"And that you are his friend and not his
enemy," he continued.

286 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

« No," she replied, « 1 can't."

"Then, pray, what have you to say for your-
self ? " he demanded fiercely.

"Nothing," she said slowly. "Nothing, except
that I have played — and lost."

The intenseness with which her few words
were charged, checked his power of speech. He
glanced towards her and watched her raise her
right arm and hand, which were trembling with
suppressed but obvious rage and fury against him
and herself. She pointed to the shop door.

" Go," she said in a low hoarse voice. " I hate
you. Do you hear me ? Go, before I kill you."

He saw the dangerous glare in her eyes, and
the malevolent expression on her countenance.

He fled, as from the spring of a tigress.

CHAPTER XV.

that same evening Tamar received this
letter from Adrian Steele : —

" TAMAR, — The doctors report favourably on
my little Alpenrose. They appear now to regard
me, and not her, in a critical state of health. They
insist that I should go away for a change ; and
as their views chance to correspond with your
wish that I should remove myself for a time out
of the reach of embarrassing encounters, 1 have
made up my mind to go. Needless to say, the
doctors suggest Brighton. How like them,
Tamar ! Have you ever met a doctor who didn't
say Brighton or Cairo ? Has it ever struck you
that they make their suggestions in alphabetical
order ? Brighton, Cowes, Davos, Eastbourne,
Folkestone, Grindelwald, Hastings, and so on ?
It is an excellent plan, and saves unnecessary use
of the intelligence. Brighton would be full of
embarrassing encounters for me, wouldn't it ? I
smile when I think of all the theatrical people
I should run across there. No, I must choose
some unfrequented spot unknown to the pro-

288 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

fession. I liked that place Kineton where you
stopped for the Meyntoun Moat sale. That's
where 1 feel inclined to go. I think you stayed
at the c Prince Rupert/ but no doubt you will
send me a line. An interesting country that,
Tamar. I see from the guidebook — an excellent
one, by the way — that the old manor house of
Longford is not far off. I must visit it. This
would appear to be a better programme than
Brighton, and a safer one. I hope to return
restored to my usual standard of superb intel-
lectual perfection. Meantime, it is not altogether
an unprofitable experience to have one's brain
power feeble and slow. It should make one
better able to understand and tolerate the ordinary
brainless person with the dull, fish-like eye. How
I have ever abominated that type ! And now,
to be honest with myself and you, I believe that
in a strict census, I ought to be included in that
fearsome category. But only temporarily, surely !
And meantime your clever brain works and thinks
for me, I know. I shall struggle through somehow,
with your help. I suppose, being a person not
addicted to poetry, you don't know those words
of Browning : * Out of the wreck I rise, past
Zeus, to the Potency o'er him/ Well, they
rather haunt me. < Out of the wreck I rise.'
Good-bye, Tamar of mine."

OUT OF THE WRECK 1 RISE. 289

The letter fell from Tamar's hand, and she sat
motionless for a few minutes. Her eyes were
rather dim. Then she took her pen and wrote
as follows : —

" Am thankful you are going away. Feel sure
we shall save the situation if you get back your
thinking powers. Don't go to the c Prince
Rupert.' When you get to Kineton, take a trap
to Herne Vicarage. Am writing to tell the young
clergyman, Richard Forest, a friend of mine, to
receive you instead. You can pay him for your
board and lodging. He will use the money for
church repairs. It is very lonely there — and very
safe. None of the playwright people will be
strutting about there. You can rest and recover
yourself in Richard Forest's company. You know
that I, as well as you, have always hated clergymen.
But he is something set apart. Being a clergyman
could not injure him. It will be good for you
to be with him. I don't mind owning it was good
for me, and that I haven't lost the good frorv it.
Have only seen him twice, but each time have
felt sure he is something set apart. What, I don't
know. He will expect you to be interested in
the repairs of the church. Possibly also, in the
vicarage ghosts. Ghosts have never attracted me,

but I remember youVe always pretended to like

10

29o OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

them. Shall come down in a few days and consult
further with you. Meantime, get rested. Your
brain was always resourceful, and will be again.
Even at your worst you could never qualify for
the company of the dull people with the fish-like
eyes. Must tell you I believe you owe it to Nell
Silberthwaite that John Noble has stayed his hand.
Perhaps you could write a line to her — or — or see
her before you go. Yes, see her. Should like
you to, on the whole. Noble came to her office
about some absurd sweated business. He noticed
the snow picture and they spoke of you. He'd
just come from your office. She told him she'd
known you years ago, and that she owed a great
deal to you. Noble said that reminded him of
all he owed to you. A good thing he did
remember it, isn't it ? Anyway, he is out of the
field, of his own accord. With contrivance, the
others will be also, for I have a fine scheme
maturing in my mind over which I laugh softly
in this inner room. No, am thankful to say I
don't know anything about Browning or any other
poet, but those words will be true of you, I'm
certain. Am as sure of that as I am of the
difference between a genuine and a faked
antique. That reminds me your wife came to-
day to thank me for my kindness to ca stranger
brought to my gates.* She insisted on buying a

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 291

faked antique pendant, though I tried to guide her
taste and offered her something genuine, at a lower
price, too. Could see she was anxious to reward
me for my hospitality to you. Made an unfavour-
able impression on her. Was at my worst. You
know what that is. T. SCOTT."

To Nell Silberthwaite she wrote : —

" Have failed with that playwright man, Hail-
sham, and through my own fault. Cannot speak
of it until I have recovered from my fury with
him and myself. T. SCOTT/'

To Richard Forest she wrote :—

"A friend of mine, Adrian Steele, is coming
into your neighbourhood. He was going to the
< Prince Rupert* at Kineton. Am asking you
to take him in instead. The money could be
used for the church repairs. He wants quiet and
peace. He has had a great deal of trouble lately.
He knows a fine Norman font when he sees it.
Is rather a good all-round antiquarian. Show him
your fresco. He does not dislike ghosts.

" T. SCOTT."

Her expression of countenance softened as she
read what she had written to Richard Forest.

292 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

" Something set apart," she said aloud. "That's
what you are, Richard Forest."

She addressed the envelope, and then stared
at it.

" What would you do if you knew the lies I've
been telling this afternoon, Richard Forest, and
all in vain ? " she said aloud. " I think I know
what you would do. You would kneel down in
that lonely little church and pray for me. An
absurd thing to do, of course, but I wouldn't
resent it from you."

She gummed down the envelope.

"Adrian will rest in your company," she said
aloud. "I send him to you, Richard Forest, as
to a healer."

She shut up the shop, went out, posted her
letters, and wandered aimlessly about in the
•darkness of the night.

CHAPTER XVI.

JOAN NEVILLE looked up from her desk in
J the office and saw Adrian Steele standing
before her.

"Ah," she said to herself. "Looking down
on snow-white plains again. But how changed
he looks. Is he going to faint? A good thing
I can count c first aid* amongst my many won-
derful attributes."

Aloud she said :

"Good-morning. Mrs. Silberthwaite is here,
and disengaged. If you will kindly take a seat,.
I will tell her."

" 1 prefer to announce myself," he said, with
just a touch of hauteur which at first awed and
then irritated little Joan Neville.

But the next moment he had appeased her, for
he turned to her with a penitence which was irre-
sistible, and said :

"The traditional privilege of an old friend
and comrade, you know. Mysteriously but very
definitely precious, like all threatened privileges."

" I understand," she said, smiling too ; and she

294 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

rose and held the door open for him to pass
into the passage leading to Nell's room.

After he had gone, she stood thinking about
him.

"One could never forget him," she said.
" Never. One might want to. But one never
could. And why, I wonder ? "

She shook her head solemnly, gave up the
problem, and returned to her work ; but she
glanced once or twice towards the door, and
her mind travelled through it to meet that little
masterful figure which continued to haunt her
with an unreasonable persistence.

Meantime Adrian Steele knocked at Nell's door,
with an old familiar rap which he had always said
was his only musical composition.

u A symphony," he had always said, " short,
but, of its kind, superb."

Nell's voice bade him enter, and he saw for
himself the glad welcome on her face.

" It's delightful to hear once more your only
musical composition, Adrian," she said, the colour
mounting to her cheeks.

"You see I have not forgotten it. It's still
superb, isn't it ? " he said, smiling.

" I'll be off, Mrs. Silberthwaite," Mrs. Carton
said, turning round from a cupboard from which
she was taking a large number of pamphlets and

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 295

leaflets. " They won't want more than this lot
at the meeting."

She came forward with her burden, and met
Adrian Steele face to face. The pamphlets
dropped to the ground.

"It's Mr. Trustworthy," she cried excitedly.
" I should know him anywhere. You're him,
aren't you ? Oh yes, you're hisself, and no mistake.
We've never forgotten you down there. Our first
friend. The first one that cared. Mr. Trust-
worthy. That's what we always called you behind
your back, because the old box-maker — you re-
member old Mrs. Perkins ? — one of them three
you buried, well, she was always saying : c He's
trustworthy, he is. Trustworthy.' I can hear her
poor old cracked voice now."

" I can hear it," Adrian Steele said in a low
voice, which was almost a whisper.

He stood with bowed head and closed eyes,
his hands folded over each other and pressing
into his breast. In that one moment he passed
through a purgatory of remorse. Then, with an
effort of will, he controlled his emotions and
opened his eyes. He gave Mrs. Carton a friendly
smile of recognition, and stooped down to help her
to pick up the pamphlets. She was puzzled and
awed by his silence and his manner, and glanced
at Nell half questioningly as she left the room.

296 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

When the door closed, he strolled towards the
mantelpiece, and contemplated in silence the snow
mountain picture which he had given to Nell more
than fifteen years ago.

"And so John Noble recognized the picture,
Nell ? " he said without turning round.

" Yes, Adrian," she answered.

" Tamar told me," he continued. " She told
me that I owed it to you that John Noble
has—"

He paused.

" — Has entrusted me with his work as usual,"
he added.

" Tamar is a generous soul," Nell said warmly.

"Tamar is — Tamar," he said gently. And
Nell heard, with a pang of jealousy, even at that
moment, the love accents in his voice.

" I want to thank you, Nell," he went on.
"It was good of you to— well, what shall I say-
testify for me."

"No, no, it wasn't," she said. "There was
not anything good in it. Your name came up in
connection with the mountain picture, and some-
thing impelled me to tell him of what I myself
owed you. You know what I owe to you ; my
career, my life's work, the biggest debt that any one
could owe to any one. My husband seconded me
most unselfishly, most splendidly. But you showed

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 297

me the way. He knew I thought that. He was
content that I should think it, because he was above
all paltriness and pettiness."

" Every one has been generous except myself,"
Adrian said. "Well, it is at least something
to know that you think 1 carried the lantern,
and showed you the toilsome way which you are
treading so bravely. Perhaps I did, and perhaps
I did not."

A glimmer of playful mischief came into his
eyes as he said after a pause :

" At any rate, I rescued you from the academic
abyss. Of that I have no doubt whatsoever.
Think of it, Nell, but for me, you might at this
moment be editing Plato or Aristotle."

" You speak of such work as if it were a
calamity," Nell said, with a laugh.

" Not a calamity for those possessed of a mind
academic and academic only," he answered. "A
fulfilment for them, and a right fulfilment. But
there were other voices whispering to you as well —
the call of suffering, hopeless poverty in the world
outside the seclusion of the study, making itself
heard softly but persistently. It would have been
a crime for you to turn to it a deaf ear — wouldn't
it? Events have proved that I was right in my
diagnosis. About this matter I am proud of my-
self, and with justice. You've done splendidly."

10 a

298 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

She shook her head and remained silent. She
longed to beg him to talk, not of her but of him-
self. But she dared not. She remembered him
of old. With tragedy and disaster confronting
him, it was entirely characteristic of him that his
mind should perversely choose to dwell on any
subject rather than on his own personal affairs.
So she was not specially surprised when he began
to speak of the mountains.

"Yes, Nell,*' he said, as though he were con-
tinuing some conversation about them ; " I have
always loved the mountains, even before I learnt
to know and share your deep delight in them.
Do you remember when we first read together
Ruskin's chapters on the 'Mountain Gloom' and
the c Mountain Glory ' ? Do you remember that
passage in which he speaks of them as c these
great cathedrals of the earth, with their gates
of rock, pavements of cloud, choirs of stream
and stone, altars of snow, and vaults of purple
traversed by the continual stars ' ? "

"Yes," Nell said; "and I have so often
thought of the ending words of the 'Mountain
Glory/ You were fond of them, in spite of
yourself, you used to say. Do you remember
them now ? c These pure and white hills, near
to the heaven and sources of all good to the
earth, are the appointed memorials of that Light

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 299

of His mercy that fell, snow-like, on the Mount
of Transfiguration.' '

" That fell snow-like," he repeated half to him-
self. " That fell snow-like."

"You used to tell me, didn't you, Nell," he
said turning to her, " that you were often able to
dream of the mountains when you had the heart-
hunger for them ? "

" Yes," she said, her face lighting up. " I
have seen the snow peaks and the distant ranges
as in a vision. And the Alpine glow covering their
ideal whiteness with that mysteriously beautiful
purple garment."

"Ah," he said eagerly, "I saw that the other
night in my dreams. I wandered about in my
favourite haunts, through the wild and lonely
Meienthal, with my face set towards the Susten-
horner. My eyes delighted in that vision of
splendour. It faded, of course. But in so-called
real life 1 have never seen it more superb. And my
joy did not end with it, Nell. You'll understand
me, because you would have felt the same. The
winter changed, with a wave of the magic wand, to
early spring, and 1 stooped down and picked my
first star gentian, and my first little soldanella.
Then I woke, alas ! "

"Before you had gathered a spring anemone,
with its soft glittering tufts of hair," Nell said.

300 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

"What a shame! Well, I'll show it to you
here in this Alpine flora book, which has just
been sent me from Zurich. Here it is. Isn't
it a lovely picture? Doesn't it make you see
the snow melting away and disclosing whole
velvety fields of them. And here's the wee
soldanella. And here's the little star gentian."

She had taken the book from a shelf, opened it,
and placed it in his hands. He turned over the
leaves in silence, nodding when he came upon
his favourite flowers. At last he arrived at the
plate which, amongst other Alpine shrubs, included
the Alpenrose.

" Alpenrose," he said, and a tremor passed over
his face. He put the book down on Nell's desk.

" You know," he said dreamily, " I called my
little daughter Alpenrose, because I wanted to
believe that she belonged in name, in being, in
spirit, to the white snow-land where the mountain
peaks stand for the far-off altars of our far-off
ideals. Alpenrose has been ill. We nearly lost
her. We wrestled with death for her young life,
and we won it. But with half my heart, I think,
it would almost have been better if she had died.
You see — I have — "

He broke off. Nell waited breathlessly. She
would have given anything on earth if he had at
that moment opened his heart to her, confided

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 301

to her his difficulties and anxieties and confessed
his secret sadness. But he gave no further
sign of wishing to unburden his mind to her.
He stood, as she had, once not so long ago,
seen him in her dream, remote, inaccessible on
the mountain side, cut off from all retreat.
Tamar could reach him. She could not. She
had to solace herself then and ever afterwards
with the cold but snow-white memory that he
had cared to show her a glimpse of the soul
within him, and to speak with her of the
wonderful things in Nature dear to them both,
and symbolic to them both of spiritual life. No
one could rob her of this. Not even Tamar.

Suddenly he took the Alpine flora book again
from the desk, half absent-mindedly, half mechan-
ically ; but his face became eager and interested as
he opened it and looked once more at the many
beautiful coloured plates.

"What a splendid page of gentians," he said.
" And this thistle— a noble fellow, isn't he ? Yes,
that's his name, I remember : Eryngium alpinum.
Ah, and here are the primulas. What a lot of
them ! And here is the sweet little soldanella
again. Wait a moment. I must just see what
they have to say about the flora of the Meienthal.
Here it is : " Meienthal bis zum fasten " — beginning
of course with the Ranunculus glacialis. I re-

302 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

member that was particularly beautiful in the
Meienthal, up towards the Susten Pass. Let's
look up his plate. Here it is — a very fine one
too ! Now I wonder whether they mention my
little favourite village, Wassen. Bravo, here it is,
with a fat list attached to it too, Nell. I'm proud,
but not surprised ; for I tell you I've never seen
the Alpine pasture flowers grow so richly anywhere
as there. Never in my life did I see such forget-
me-nots as on the slopes round Wassen. It's at
the entrance of the Meienthal, you know. And
it has its church perched on a steep little hill
which dominates the valley. And it owns a
raging torrent river, and a most entrancing group
of mountains, mercifully despised by climbers and
neglected by tourists. I have always loved it.
That's where my Alpine heart is. Yes, this is a
gem of a book, Nell, and no mistake. You were
always clever at unearthing the right book for the
right subject."

" Take it, Adrian," she said impulsively. " I
shall be so happy if you will accept it from me."

" It's just as well you've made the offer," he
said, with a twinkle in his eye. " For, upon my
word, I don't think that I could part with it, once
having seen it. I will take it away gladly and most
thankfully, as authorized plunder."

She smiled at his words, and at the faint reminder

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 303

of his old playful manner. But when she glanced
at his face, and saw the stress and strain of spirit
written large there in spite of all his efforts of
concealment and his conscious or unconscious
evasion of impending trouble, a cry of real distress
and concern broke from her involuntarily, and
would not be repressed.

" Adrian/' she cried, in a tone of voice charged
with every kind of tenderness and pitifulness, " all
will be well with you yet, I'm sure. You'll rise
out of this trouble — I know you will."

He shrank into himself a little as if he
feared the close approach of some unseen danger
threatening him, but he nodded his head in quiet
assent and said vaguely :

" Yes, Nell. Why not ? Stranger things than
that have been known to happen in a man's life —
or death."

As he spoke, his eyes sought the mountain
picture and rested there. Nell stood silently by
his side, and her eyes, too, travelled to the snow
peaks, and remained there in steadfast but dim
vision.

So they parted.

CHAPTER XVII.

Richard Forest received T. Scott's
letter, heralding the arrival of her friend,
his face flushed with pleasure and he said aloud,
as though addressing Tamar herself :

" Of course I shall make your friend welcome.
And, T. Scott, I am so pleased that you have
thought of sending him to me. I will do my best
for him, and try to cheer him if he is in trouble."

The unexpected situation presented no diffi-
culties to his mind. Richard was always ready
for the unknown in every direction, and doubts
about details were negligible pettinesses which did
not affect his large outlook. But it did occur to
him that perhaps Mrs. Eustace might be harassed
at the prospect of entertaining a stranger in their
simple household, and he spent some time in
considering how he should break the news to her.

But when he went into the kitchen and found
her making a ginger pudding — an unfailing sign
that she was in a specially kindly frame of mind —
he knew that all was well, and that he might exact

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 305

from her anything he liked. Ginger pudding had
been added to his category of symbols.

" Mrs. Eustace/' he said, " I am expecting a
gentleman to come and stop for a few days. He
comes to-day. I suppose we can manage all right ? "

£C Mrs. Eustace left off kneading the dough,
gave a sigh of great relief, and smiled. To herself
she said :

tc Now there'll be somebody for him to intro-
duce them ghosts to instead of poor me. My
prayers is answered."

To Richard she said :

" Of course we can manage all right, dear young
master. You leave it to me."

" He is a stranger to me," Richard said. " In
fact, I know nothing else about him except that —
well, that he doesn't dislike ghosts."

He smiled as he spoke, and added a little
wistfully :

"Perhaps that poor forlorn old clergyman I
told you of, will appear to us whilst he is here."

" Yes, sir, let us hope so," Mrs. Eustace replied
fervently.

cc It has been a great disappointment to me,
Mrs. Eustace, that he has not so far revealed
himself again," Richard said sadly. " I have
watched and waited for him day after day, and

in vain."

306 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

" Ah," murmured Mrs. Eustace sympathetically.
" That you have, I'm sure."

" Well," said Richard, " I suppose I must be
patient. I ought to feel, and indeed I do feel,
that already a great privilege has been bestowed
on me."

"Ah yes," murmured Mrs. Eustace again,
nodding her head solemnly.

" Not every one is so blessed," Richard said.
" These manifestations don't come to every one,
you know."

" No, sir, indeed not," replied Mrs. Eustace
cheerfully.

" Well, I must be off on my rounds," Richard
said. " I shall be in as soon as I can, Mrs.
Eustace, and if Mr. Steele arrives during my
absence, you'll look after him, won't you ? 1
wonder whether he will be interested in the church.
I think he will be sure to, don't you ? I under-
stand that he knows a good Norman font when
he sees it. That surely implies a definite interest
in churches ; for, you see, he must have studied
and compared fonts."

" Ah, no doubt," Mrs. Eustace said, trying to
put on an antiquarian expression, which was really
rather successful.

Richard hurried away, but returned in a few
minutes accompanied by Skib, who was barking

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 307

joyously whilst his master whistled a tune to
him.

" It is rather jolly having a visitor, isn't it, Mrs.
Eustace ? " he said boyishly. u I know it's absurd
of me, but I'm quite excited. I do hope he won't
find it too lonely. You'll give him my room, of
course, and I'll go into Miss Margaret's."

Mrs. Eustace shook her head.

" No, sir," she said firmly. " That you shan't.
You must keep your own room. You'd be sit-
ting up all night waiting to see Miss Margaret's
ghost. And what with the old clergyman in the
daytime, and Miss Margaret at night, there'd be
nothing of you left."

" As you please," he said laughing. " But you
know, Mrs. Eustace, I don't have to sit up at
night to feel her presence. I feel her everywhere.
All day long in the panelled room. I should be
lost and lonely if I didn't know for certain that
she was near me all the time. Otherwise what
would become of me ? "

" Dear, dear," thought Mrs. Eustace, wiping the
perspiration from her forehead after he had gone.
" What will become of the dear young gentleman,
anyway ? That's what I say to myself. A good
thing a visitor's coming. Some live person. Some
one not dead. And yet he keep on saying people don't
die. I should like to know what they do do then."

308 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

She sighed and gave the problem up as hopeless,
but said aloud :

cc Anyway, some live person is coming. And
perhaps he'll feel inclined to go to the early morn-
ing service instead of poor me."

Cheered considerably by this comforting reflec-
tion, she went blithely about her preparations for
the arrival of Adrian Steele, who little knew the
mental, physical and spiritual welcome awaiting
him in the lonely hamlet shut away from the outer
world, and could not guess of the exhilaration
which the mere thought of his visit was bringing
to the old woman and the young clergyman at
this desolate outpost. If he had known, he would
probably not have understood. Only those
who have been forced by circumstance to live in
solitudes, cut off entirely, or even partially, from
their fellow beings, can realize the vitalizing effect
of unexpected companionship. Up goes the pulse
by magic, and a magician's bridge is built, too,
over all separating differentiations of mind and
temperament. The bridge, frail in its construc-
tion, may break after a time ; but the heart-beat
has gained renewed strength, which will last out for
many a long day, and which, even in its decline, can
be reinvigorated by memory.

Richard, riding on his bicycle to visit one of
his sick parishioners, was already uplifted and

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 309

stimulated by the prospect of a fresh experience in
acquaintanceship. His interest in the repairs of
the church, his painting, his studying of the mystic
philosophers, his patient vigils for the reappearance
of the old reprobate clergyman, his quiet happiness
in knowing himself to be linked with the invisible
and only real world — all these joys of the spirit
were forgotten for the moment in the human
pleasure which awaited him : a pleasure all the
greater, too, because he owed it to T. Scott.

She had continued, as before, to enclose cheques
to him, on and off, accompanied always with the
brief sentence, "For the repairs of the church; " and
after- that one great struggle with himself, he had
accepted them as her offerings of self-discipline,
her efforts of self-denial, her corrections of avarice.

He had no means of knowing that owing to his
influence, T. Scott's very code of dishonourableness
was at least undergoing some modification. But
he would not have been surprised, for he had
thought of her so much, and prayed for her so
constantly in his lonely little church, that it would
have seemed only natural to him that a message
should reach her in some form or other : not from
him, indeed, but perhaps through him.

And now it was a source of real delight to him
that she had entrusted her friend to his care, and
had thus added a personal and intimate touch to

310 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

their impersonal intercourse. Buoyantly happy,
therefore, was Richard Forest. Very beautiful
seemed the world to him on this spring morning.
The birds sang symphonies to him, such as he had
never heard before, and the trees and hedges had
put on a most delicate fairy-like garment, which
Nature had chosen specially for him out of her
secret wardrobe. She had coaxed the sun to give
out added light and warmth, and had rallied the
sky to deck itself in cloudless azure blue, deepen-
ing here and there to a sapphire tint. All this
Nature had done for her child whom she loved,
and who loved her with a passionate devotion and
who interpreted her wonders and secrets with
unfailing clearness of vision. Richard glanced
around with delighted eyes, and Blake's words on
the Spring rushed to his remembrance :

" The hills tell each other, and the listening
Valleys hear ; all our longing eyes are turned
Up to thy bright pavilions ; issue forth,
And let thy holy feet visit our clime."

When he reached home, Mrs. Eustace met him
at the vicarage gate with the news that the visitor
had arrived and was waiting for him in the
panelled room. Richard hurried in, and found
Adrian Steele standing staring at one of his Blake
illustrations : " The lost traveller s dream under the
hilir

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 311

" What a remarkable painting," Adrian Steele
said to him. "The artist who did this, must know
and love Blake through and through. Who is he,
can you tell me ? "

" I am he," Richard said shyly, flushing crimson
as he spoke.

Adrian Steele looked at him, and Tamar's words
echoed back to him : " He is something set apart."

" I am indeed fortunate in having been sent
to you," Adrian said gently. " I too love Blake."

"Do you?" Richard said, his face radiant with
pleasure. " Well, that is splendid for us both."

So there were no preliminaries to be gone
through, and no barriers to be broken down.
When Mrs. Eustace came an hour or two later
to tell them that dinner was ready, she found
them knee - deep in books and sketches, and
with happiness written large on their eager
countenances.

" Ah," she thought, " all is well with the dear
young master now he has got some live person to
play with. Perhaps he'll forget about the old
clergyman's ghost. Perhaps it will go right out of
his head, and we shan't hear no more about it,
thank goodness ! "

But her hopes were not destined to be realized,
for when, later on, she served up and brought in
the ginger pudding, she heard Richard say :

3i2 OUT OF THE WRECK 1 RISE.

"No, I'm not as lonely as you might think.
You know, I always feel presences around me ;
and last week, to my joy, I saw one of them — an
old clergyman. 1 must tell you about him later,
for I learn from T. Scott that you do not dislike
so-called ghosts.

" I should have no fear of them if I saw them,"
Adrian Steele answered. " On the contrary, I
should be deeply interested.'*

"Ah well, let's hope he's the one who will
see them," thought Mrs. Eustace, hurrying away.

" And T. Scott has also told me that you know
a good Norman font when you see it," Richard
said. " There's a very fine one in my little
church.' I thought we might go and have a look
at it after dinner."

Adrian Steele nodded his willing consent, and
when Richard took him into the little church he
showed due appreciation of the Norman font, and
was greatly pleased with the Elizabethan pulpit
and the rood screen, both of which he saw had
suffered cruelly from long neglect. He delighted
Richard's heart by noticing the very graceful
effects caused by an intersection of arches, and his
quick eye detected an old window of which the
clergyman was deeply proud. H e found out of
his own accord everything of antiquarian interest
in the little tumble -down church, and with a

OUT OF THE WRECK 1 RISE. 313

kindness which did not betray its underlying
purpose, he laid stress on the redeeming features
of the place, and appeared entirely unconscious of
the all - pervading signs of ruin and decay. He
wandered about, putting his finger now on this,
now on that. He was delighted to see in the
chancel a small brass of a tonsured priest with a
chalice, and took a note of it in order to look it
up in a book on monumental brasses. As for the
remains of the old fresco on the wall of the right
aisle, he could scarcely drag himself away from the
spot, and insisted that with patience and great care
more of the fragments of painting could be made
to reveal themselves.

" I may be wrong," he said, " but I can't help
thinking we shall find something concealed here,
on this bit of surface. I suspect it hugely. But
don't let me be excommunicated if I'm wrong."

But he was not wrong, and Richard and he
laughed with boyish glee and triumph when, after
patient and delicate labour with hammer and
chisel, they removed a fine layer of plaster and
discovered a faint-coloured fragment of an angel's
wing.

" I must go and bring Mrs. Eustace to see it,"
Richard said excitedly ; and off he dashed in
search of that much-enduring lady, who returned
with him immediately to the scene of action.

3i4 OUT, OF THE WRECK I RISE.

" Well, well, that is a nice surprise for you," she
remarked soothingly. "And harmless, too," she
thought to herself. " I don't mind how much the
poor gentlemen scratches up of that sort of thing,
bless their hearts."

For some little time Adrian Steele and Richard
devoted themselves whole-heartedly to this task,
and their comradeship grew apace over the interest
of the work. There was something pathetic in
Richard's frank pleasure in having a companion
of Steele's culture and calibre ; and Adrian Steele
himself made no attempt to hide his thorough
appreciation of his new friend and new circum-
stances. He let himself go, and revealed all his
charm and the best part of his nature.

"And now, what about the registers and the
churchwardens' accounts ? " he asked gaily. " You
surely mean to show me them, don't you ? And I
expect you've got an old Bible tucked away some-
where, haven't you ? Do you know that twice in
my life I've fished out an old Bible from the
depths of oblivion and restored it to dignity and
honour ? My last find was an Authorized Version,
1611 ; but my first was a Coverdale first edition.
What do you think of that ? "

Richard's eyes sparkled.

" I say, what a find ! " he cried. "Well, I wish
you could fish one out here. We had an old

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 315

Bible : I believe it was a Geneva first edition, for
there's a curious entry dated 1578 in the church-
wardens' accounts, which I will show you in the
panelled room. I keep the registers and accounts
there for safety. I dug them out of the depths ;
but, alas ! I found no Bible. The tradition is that
about a hundred years ago it disappeared mys-
teriously— was stolen, in fact. No one knows
by whom, except — " He hesitated, and then
added, with a flush on his face : " Well, except
perhaps myself."

" And how do you know ? " Adrian asked, his
eager attention at once arrested.

Then Richard told him with simple directness
of the visit he had had from the c presence' of the
old forlorn clergyman. He described him in
detail, and described the Bible with its blind-tooled
leather, its brass clasps, corners, and central boss.
Adrian listened with intense interest. He saw
that the vision had been a real experience to
Richard Forest, who evidently did not regard it
in any way as extraordinary or amazing.

" You see I had been writing out the church-
wardens' accounts — writing out that very item,"
he said. " My mind was therefore unconsciously
prepared for him. He knew that, and came."

" You must show me the entry," Adrian Steele
said. "The date of the first Geneva Bible cer-

316 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

tainly is 1578. I happen to remember, because
I've been studying that wonderful Bible collec-
tion in the British Museum. You ought to
see it."

"I have seen it," Richard said, "and that's
how I have been able to confirm my belief that
the stolen Bible was a first edition Geneva. It
is a most curious entry. I leapt on it at once
when I first began to copy out the old records."

"Ah, so you're copying out the old records,"
Adrian said. " I can help you at that job. I've
got famous eyes for the mysterious handwriting of
former days. Nothing baffles me in that line."

" I'll give the task over to you most willingly,"
Richard said, smiling. " I'm not at all good at it.
But it had to be done, because these records are
too precious to be lost ; and, like the little church
itself, they are in a sorry state of decay."

"Yes, the church is pretty bad," Adrian said,
commenting on it for the first time. " The clergy-
men who came before you have not cared much, I
should think."

" No, they did not care," Richard said sorrow-
fully. " That's obvious. But," he added eagerly,
at once pleading for them, "they had no one to
help and encourage them. Conditions were
against them. I'm not surprised that they lost
heart."

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 317

Adrian noted how loyally he ranged himself on
their side. Whatever they had been, and what-
ever they had done, they at least had no hard
judge in their young successor.

" However," Richard said cheerfully, " things
will soon be better now. Restoration, of course,
is out of the question ; but the repairs, as T.
Scott insists on calling them, as if the church were
an old boot, are well in hand. You notice we
have nearly finished mending the roof; and we
are going to have all those green-grown flags
taken up, and concrete put down first, to shut out
the damp. Then, when the floor is level, we can
build up the pews afresh. You see, the boarding
has given way in lots of places. That has worried
me a good deal, even more than the hole in the
roof. Well, we are going to have all this done,
and many other little improvements, too, owing to
T. Scott's kindness."

" T. Scott's kindness ? " Adrian repeated in
astonishment. " Why, where does she come in ? "

u She comes in everywhere," Richard said, his face
lighting up. "The repairs are entirely her affair."

And he told Adrian the story of the jewels,
of Tamar's visit to the church, and of the cheques
she had been sending. He left out, of course, all
mention of T. Scott's original attempt to deprive
him of the right value of the ruby and pearl

3i8 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

crucifix. But of his own accord Adrian guessed
that Tamar had been paying out c conscience *
money, and when he heard that his own cheque
for £19 had been handed over intact for the same
purpose, he laughed secretly and said to himself :

" So my Tamar has been having an ecclesiastical
rise out of me. It must have amused her mightily
to think that I was helping to restore a church.
Well, after such a crisis as that, anything could
happen to me. I could even become an arch-
bishop ! "

At the thought he nearly laughed aloud, but he
suppressed his merriment and said :

"That £19 was an old debt of mine to T. Scott
which, I am ashamed to say, I neglected to pay
for years. I am glad that she used it for such a
good purpose. I never thought that I should live
to take part, even indirectly, in the restoration or
even c repairs ' of a church — I of all people. But
— well, in this instance, I'm honestly glad."

"Thank you," Richard said, with one of his
radiant smiles. " That adds to my gratitude over
T. Scott's kindness. But tell me why you say
' you of all people.' '

Adrian was silent for a moment, and finally
said :

"I stand outside the religious world, by tem-
perament and by choice."

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 319

" So do I," Richard said cheerfully.

Adrian stared at the young fellow.

" But you are a clergyman of the Church of
England," he said slowly.

" Dogmas and doctrines have always appeared
to me of inappreciable importance," Richard said.
" In some instances they are convenient channels
for dispatching the larger message, that's all."

"The larger message," Adrian Steele repeated
dreamily, and again his eyes rested on Richard
Forest.

"Ah," he said with a half smile, "no wonder
they've caged you up here in this lonely little
hamlet. That's the only safe place for a person
like yourself— from their point of view, I mean.
But wouldn't I just like to get hold of one of your
bishops or archbishops and nail him down here in
this isolated life for a few months. He would
soon, in self-defence, want to effect a radical
change in the church system, in order to prevent
himself from becoming bored to death. Yes, I'd
like to make him c do time ' here."

" Why, that's exactly what T. Scott said, stand-
ing on the same spot too, in the chancel," Richard
laughed. " Now isn't that curious ? "

" No," Adrian answered, " it is what any sane,
unfettered outsider would think. No other
thought would be possible. It has been haunting

320 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

me ever since I came ; and no doubt it haunted
T. Scott too, and made her feel — "

He broke off. With his mind's eye he saw
Tamar standing there, moved to kindness and
generosity by the larger message. The expres-
sion on his face softened to a great tenderness.

"Yes, yes," asked Richard eagerly, "what do
you think it made her feel ? "

" And made her feel that she, in spite of herself,
must do something to lighten the load of loneli-
ness, and to show that at least some one had a
decent sense of concern and responsibility,"
Adrian said.

Richard's face shone. For a moment he was
silent.

" Yes, but we have to remember that there
always has been and always will be lonely sentry
duty to perform," he said at last. "And it isn't
nearly so trying for me as for others. You see,
I have always been a dreamy sort of fellow. I
have never been without companions of the spirit.
And my painting alone means a great deal to me.
By means of it I am able to express to myself, at
least, what 1 think I see underlying everything
that meets the eye. Any one who has that re-
source in him, is more independent of outward
circumstances than those not so graciously blessed
in that respect. My predecessors here were in

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 321

that plight, poor fellows. I believe the desolation
and lifelessness were too hard for them. They
were wrongly chosen for the place to which they
were sent."

"Exactly," Steele said ; "and that is just one
instance of the utter carelessness, indifference, and
futility of the Church organization. I'd like to see
the present Church system shaken to its very
foundation. I'd like to see all the lonely little
parishes connected up, not only in name but in
reality, with a strong thread of interwork and
intercommunication, and a constant intercourse
with headquarters. No opportunities then for the
inhuman dying down of energy and interest. All
human beings want stimulus to keep up the best
in them ; and why the unfortunate clergy should
be supposed to have to do without it, is more than
I can understand. Yes, I'd like to shake the
whole fabric to pieces, beginning with the arch-
bishops."

"Yes, I'm sure there ought to be great and
radical changes," Richard said earnestly.

Suddenly he laughed with boyish glee. Some-
thing had tickled his fancy.

" The poor archbishops ! " he exclaimed. " Don't
I see them ! They must evidently expect no
quarter from you."

"They would get none," Adrian laughed,

322 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

greatly amused by the young fellow's merriment.
" I have no sympathy with the rich ecclesiastics,
from Wolsey onwards. Nor with the popular
preachers either, petted and flattered by the
public."

"Oh, but come, you ought to pity them"
Richard said simply, "for theirs is a dreadful
fate, fraught with severe temptations. I could
imagine no worse fate. I have always prayed to
be delivered from it."

Adrian glanced at him, and saw the look of
intense earnestness on his face.

" I sincerely hope you will be," he said gravely.

" But victims though they are, they are never-
theless spiritual sacrifices," Richard added, "and
in a sacred cause."

"Ah, I must confess I have never thought
of them in that light," Adrian said, smiling in a
slightly puzzled way. " I have always thought
of them as people who have 'gone under,* as I
have. I wish I could look upon myself as a
spiritual sacrifice."

"You would not be conscious of being one,"
Richard said. " They are not conscious either."

"Well, at least I am conscious that I'm not
one," Adrian said with a short laugh, which had a
sardonic ring in it. And the next moment he re-
gretted he had not repressed it, for he felt it had

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 323

jarred on Richard. He immediately experienced
the same emotions of penitence which invariably
assailed Mrs. Eustace when she had pained her
young gentleman. It was a far cry from Adrian
Steele to Mrs. Eustace ; yet he proceeded to
make amends in exactly the same fashion as
herself, correcting the discord with added tender-
ness and mellowed understanding.

" You see," he said gently, " you present to me
a somewhat unusual train of thought. Perhaps
these people are spiritual sacrifices. Perhaps we
all are. Perhaps because of our downfall, some
others are rising higher towards some distant ideal.
If that is so, then there is sense in our 'going
under/ "

"But people don't go under," Richard said
eagerly, his face brightening up at Adrian's words.

" Don't they ? " Adrian asked indulgently, as
though to a child.

" Of course not," Richard said cheerfully.

" Then what do they do, I wonder ? " Adrian
asked with still more indulgence, rather curious to
know what form the young fellow's answer would
take.

"Oh, they rise out of the wreck somehow or
other," Richard said. " No one could doubt such
a simple thing as that."

Adrian started. That line from Browning :

324 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

" Out of the wreck I rise, past Zeus, to the Potency
o'er him ! " leapt to his mind and his lips, But
he gave the words no utterance. They aroused in
him a vague remembrance of the difficulties which
he knew, in his heart of hearts, were going to
overwhelm him. He shuddered a little, and
seemed suddenly to shrink away into nothing, and
Richard saw that his clever, intellectual face had
become drawn as if with some acute pain.

" You're tired," Richard said kindly. "I'm
afraid 1 have been dragging you about mercilessly.
Come along. Let's go back to the house and ask
Mrs. Eustace to give us tea at once. That will
revive you. You look worn out."

He put his arm through Adrian's and led him
back to the panelled room where he installed him
in the armchair.

" You must rest, you know," he admonished.
" T. Scott said you needed rest."

Then off he dashed to the kitchen to hasten on
the preparations for tea.

" I'm afraid I've been tiring him, Mrs. Eustace,"
he said penitently. " I really thought he was
going to faint. I wish you'd take a look at him
and tell me whether you think he is all right."

They found him leaning back in the armchair,
fast asleep and breathing gently.

"Poor soul," whispered Mrs. Eustace, "he's

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 325

tired out. Now when he wakes up, don't you,
directly he opens his poor eyes, go and introduce
him to the old clergyman's ghost. Mind what I
say, dear young master. He don't want no shock,
and ghosts is a shock, and no mistake. Not to you,
perhaps, dear young master, but to others, not
forgetting my poor self."

"I'll remember," Richard said humbly. "I do
wish I was not so inconsiderate. What with that
and my tempers, I wonder you put up with me."

" If you was perfect, there wouldn't be na
putting up with you," Mrs. Eustace said gravely.
" But you ain't, by no means."
', : Richard laughed gaily, nodded at her as she
disappeared from the room, settled down in his
chair, and began to work out the first of a set
of ideas which had seized him for the illustration
of Wordsworth's c Ode on Immortality.' From
time to time he glanced at the sleeper, and having
satisfied himself that all was well with his guest,
forgot about him, and became immersed in his
engrossing task. For he dearly loved these exer-
cises of the spiritual imagination, which both
fostered and gave expression to his innate idealism.

Once he thought he felt Margaret's c presence '
hovering near him and looking over his shoulder
at his impressionist sketch of c The imperial palaces
whence he came.'

326 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

" It's not bad, Margaret, is it ? " he murmured.
<c I think it does give some idea of far-off, dimly-
remembered splendour. What do you think ? "

Another time he looked up and saw some dim
form pass through the room and fade into
nothingness.

"The old clergyman," he said to himself.
"Ah, well, some day he will reveal himself to
me again."

The time sped on, and at last, after nearly three
hours' sound sleep, Adrian Steele awoke, refreshed
and restored. He looked around him, and
realized his surroundings with a quiet pleasure
which had something healing in it.

"Now," thought Richard, who saw that his
guest had come back to life, " I'll remember what
Mrs. Eustace enjoined on me, and not breathe
a word about c presences.' Not a word."

But he did not get a ghost of a chance to carry
out his resolution, for Adrian, without any pre-
liminaries, said :

"Most extraordinary, but I have dreamed about
your old Bible stealer. 1 saw him with my mind's
eye just as you described him : old, demoralized,
furtive. I saw the Geneva Bible too, with its brass
clasps and corners. The old fellow seemed to be
standing near me, here."

Richard held out bravely. He went on with

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 327

his sketching, and did not allow a word to escape
him, although he was greatly excited.

" I liked him," Adrian continued. " 1 thought
there was great charm about him — something
rather pathetic too. I wonder what he did with
the Bible. It would be interesting to know. I
say, wouldn't it be thrilling to be able to trace it,
and restore it to the church ? "

This was too much for Richard. He had to
break his penitential silence.

" Yes," he said excitedly. c< That's what I hope
to do — with his help. Some day he will help me.
I'm convinced of that. And I should tell you,
no wonder you've dreamed of him. He has been
here. I felt his presence."

He was going to add : " And my sister
Margaret's too."

But he restrained himself, remembering his
promise to Mrs. Eustace.

"Well, the old man certainly pervaded my
dreams," Adrian went on. "I saw him every-
where : in the chancel, in the pulpit, by the font,
near the witch's grave, here, standing by this
armchair, and where else do you think — in T.
Scott's inner room. I said : c Tamar, don't you
see the old man has a valuable Bible to sell ? It's
a first Geneva Bible, 1578. Why don't you buy
it ? There he is standing against your desk.

328 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

Don't you see him ? Why don't you secure it
before the British Museum or an American
millionaire gets hold of it, and why not make
an effort of generosity and give it back to Richard
Forest's church ' ? " '

"And what did T. Scott say?" Richard asked
eagerly. " I should like to know what she said."

" Oh," Adrian answered with a smile, she said :
'Don't be a duffer. There is no old man and
no Geneva Bible. And you'd better go and have
a cup of coffee and a scone, and then perhaps
you'll talk sense.' I laughed and woke. It was
so like Tamar."

Richard laughed too.

"Well," he said gaily, "since we are on the
subject of the Bible and the old man, I must show
you that entry. Look, here it is. I feel convinced
that this was the Bible the old man was carrying.
Nothing would persuade me to the contrary."

Adrian read it and would have become immersed
in the old records then and there, but that Mrs.
Eustace insisted on an adjournment for what she
called c suppery tea.' When she had satisfied
herself that the visitor had eaten well and, in spite
of his frail appearance, had a good set of nerves
of his own which would not be scared by things,
the mere thought of which made her hair stand
on end, she left them to their devices, but not

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 329

before she had ascertained, in Richard's absence,
surreptitiously from Adrian, that he intended to
be present at the early morning service.

" I suppose you wouldn't be thinking of going
to the early morning service at seven-thirty to-
morrow, sir ? " she said tentatively.

" I hadn't thought of such a tragedy," Adrian
answered, smiling at her.

" Ah, that's the right word, sir," Mrs. Eustace
said, hugely delighted. " It's a tragedy. It's one
of the dear young master's many obstinacies,
begging his pardon. No live person comes, except
poor me, with my old bones."

" And why do you go ? " Adrian asked, much
amused.

" Some live person must go and encourage the
poor young gentleman," Mrs. Eustace said
reproachfully. "But it's a trial, at my tim,e of
life too, sir. That it is. He's that obstinate,
is the young master."

" Supposing you stop at home to-morrow with
your old bones, and I go," Adrian said confi-
dentially. " You can take an extra little morning
doze. I always wake early, and it won't be any
trouble to me to get up and take part in the
tragedy. Now mind, that's a compact. You
stay, and I go. There is no sense in two doing
the work of one. Now, that's settled, isn't it ? "

lla

330 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

They had no chance for further furtive conversa-
tion, for at that moment Richard, who had been
giving Skib his supper, returned to the room, and
Mrs. Eustace, with a new hope in her heart and
a decided twinkle in her eye, vanished from the
scenes, and was not visible again that night.

But the men lingered on late into the night,
talking on all manner of subjects : on life : on
so-called death and the wrong fear of death,
and the misleading accentuation placed on its
importance : on immortality : and on the new
knowledge which might in time break down the
barriers between the living and the dead. The
more they talked and discussed, the more attracted
Adrian Steele became towards the personality and
mind of this young fellow who appeared to be
endowed with truly spiritual instincts, a large
outlook, a simplicity of heart, and a remarkable,
though entirely unconscious unworldliness. Of
course he had faults. His face was the face of
a man who could never be cured of illusion, and
at times it was eloquent of an unyielding obstinacy.
Mrs. Eustace had alluded to this obstinacy.
Adrian himself had detected it in Richard's own
accounts of his unsuccessful dealings with his
parishioners ; and he also perceived in him a
strange want of imaginative consideration for
other people's mental serenity : a want, born

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 331

probably of his curiously detached mind. Richard,
too, alluded frankly to his own angry outbursts
of temper, of which lately the workmen repairing
the church had had the benefit, instead of the
long-suffering Mrs. Eustace. But his very failings
gave a healing power to his spirituality which
would have been lacking if he had been less
human. His value lay in the secret that he was
'something set apart,* as Tamar said, and yet
within easy human reach. He awaited c presences1
eagerly at one moment, and at another, with no
less eagerness, he fed his dog. At one moment
he was working at symbolic illustrations, and at
the next he was laughing joyously at some bit of
Adrian Steele's quaint fun : some sly hit at the
Church, some subtle poke at the poor archbishops.
Adrian wondered what would become of him
in the future. Would the Church turn him out
when he was discovered to be a man to whom a
definite religious belief was a matter of c inappreci-
able importance ' ? Or would the Church, in its
dying condition, reach out thankfully to such as
he was, recognizing at the eleventh hour that it
could only renew its life by the large help of large
minds, to which boundaries of thought were
unknown barriers ? Whatever the fate in store
for him, it was not likely that he would found a
sect and become a Pope on his own lines. That

332 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE,

was something far removed from his natural bent.
And his own wholesome fears on the subject would
probably preserve him from becoming a popular
preacher, always supposing, of course, that he had
the gift of preaching. Adrian rather supposed he
had, and sketched out to himself the sort of
sermon Richard would preach : imaginative and
mystic, yet resonant with a pervading human
chord. Well, he would be able to judge when
he heard him. But meantime he believed that
Richard would not have been entrusted by fate
with the larger message, if he had not at the
same time been given the power of imparting it.

He certainly imparted a healing peace to Adrian
Steele that night, not so much by what he had
said, but by what he was, and by what he uncon-
sciously stood for. Calm thoughts, old ideals,
lost hopes, frustrated renewals, regrets, £ shadowy
recollections,' c truths that wake to perish never,'
crept one by one into Adrian Steele's mind, and
guarded well the entrance, so that no hostile forces
of outside circumstances might enter and play
havoc with the truce of God.

Thus Tamar's belief was justified. She said :
"Adrian will rest in your company. I send him
to you, Richard Forest, as to a healer."

The next morning Adrian Steele was waiting

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 333

outside the vestry door at a quarter past seven.
To his surprise Mrs. Eustace came hurrying up
with the key.

" I couldn't stay away," she explained. " The
young master might have been hurt."

"In other words," Adrian said with a smile,
" the faithfulness of your heart got the better of
the oldness of your bones."

"That's it," she answered, nodding her head
approvingly. " And a good thing it did, too, for
the young master's a bit late. He always rings
the bell hisself. Perhaps you could, could you ?"

"Perhaps I could," said Adrian, delighted by
the suggestion, and he followed Mrs. Eustace into
the church and began to pull vigorously the rope
which she pointed out to him.

" Wouldn't Tamar be amused ! " he thought.

"Now go sensible about it," Mrs. Eustace
remonstrated, " else you won't have no strength
left. That's better. Why, would you believe it,
here's two live women coming to the Early. The
first time since we've been here. And the young
master late! Well, well I never! That'll do
for the ringing. Now you go and sit yourself
down, near the lectern, where he can see you."

Adrian obeyed humbly. He sat in the first row
of the pews, and Mrs. Eustace took up her usual
position under the shelter of the pulpit. The

334 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

two women, who seemed rather nervous, as if
they were doing something of which they were
ashamed, in attending the service, hid themselves
in one of the end pews, near the font. The
minutes sped on, and still no parson appeared.
At last it dawned on Mrs. Eustace's mind that
the young master had overslept himself. The
idea tickled her immensely, and some tears, born
of silent laughter, coursed down her cheeks.

"Won't he just be in one of his tempers with
me because he's angry with hisself ! " she reflected.

But when a few more seconds went by, and he
still did not appear, she began to be anxious lest
he were ill, and made up her mind to go to the
house and see what was the matter with him. At
this moment, however, she heard his quick steps
on the path and little black Skib's bark of greeting
outside, and knew that all was well. She subsided
into herself, more amused than ever by this
unexpected gap in the young master's hitherto
unbroken record of painful punctuality.

" Perhaps now he'll learn hisself that the Early
is a little trying," she thought triumphantly.
" Four in the congregation, and no clergyman !
Well, if that isn't funny, nothing is ! "

ilichard meantime dashed into the vestry, threw
on his surplice, and had great difficulty in restrain-
ing himself from dashing into the church. As it

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 335

was, he hurried in, in a most undivine fashion,
looked flushed and exceedingly cross, and not at
all in a suitable religious condition to pronounce
a blessing on any one, let alone a whole village.

But after a time his face cleared, and he gathered
himself together and succeeded in reading the
service with a fair amount of serenity. When it
was over, however, he showed that he had by no
means recovered his equilibrium, for he rushed
into the kitchen, and proceeded to vent his wrath
with himself on Mrs. Eustace, who was com-
posedly stirring the buttered eggs.

"What on earth were you thinking of not to
wake me when you saw I was going to be late ? "
he demanded. " I'm more angry than I can say.
Just on the morning, too, when there were
worshippers from the outside — the first time, too,
since we've been here. I'm exceedingly displeased.
All along, you've been most trying about these
early morning services, Mrs. Eustace. It was the
least you could have done to take the trouble to
come and wake me for once. But just because
I've never required you to do that for me, you
didn't bother yourself about the matter at all. I
believe you let me sleep on, on purpose. It was
too bad of you, and I'm surprised at you."

"You mustn't be angry with Mrs. Eustace,"
Adrian Steele said, suddenly appearing in the

336 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

kitchen. " I'm the fellow that you must be angry
with. I kept you up so late last night."

" Did I put salt or sugar on the buttered eggs,
dear young master ? " asked Mrs. Eustace with
a detached innocence. " I get that confused when
you lose your temper. As I have said many
times to myself, if tempers send any one to
Paradise, my dear young master will be sure
to go."

Richard looked at Adrian, and they both laughed
and ran off to their belated breakfast, Richard
suddenly ashamed of himself, and Adrian most
amused by this truly little human episode,
delighted with this exhibition of the young
clergyman's outburst of anger, and rather proud
of the important part he himself had played as
bell-ringer in the morning's tragedy.

" My religious career has indeed begun in
earnest," he said. " I help to restore a church.
I discover an angel's wing. I help to weed the
churchyard. I ring the bell unaided. From bell-
ringing I become bishop by easy and obvious
stages."

And he thought to himself :

"Well, certainly Tamar has prescribed a
thorough change for me, and decidedly less dull
than the Harley Street alphabetical list."

Time after time his mind returned to her,

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 337

remaining with her longer than it was able to
remain with any one or anything belonging to
his personal and business life. Grace, Alpenrose,
Noble, Nell, Sanford, Cecil, Hailsham existed for
him as in a dream only. He had received
a short letter from Grace, forwarded from the
c Prince Rupert ' at Kineton, where he had given
his address. She had written that Alpenrose was
going on splendidly, and that there was no need
for him to be anxious.

But he was not anxious, not because his love
for his child had lessened, but for the simple
reason that his mind, half numbed and paralyzed
for the time, refused to make the effort to concern
itself with any circumstances or interests except
those immediately encompassing him. Tamar was,
in a way, part of the present atmosphere, and as
such, she entered into everything that took place
in the surroundings to which she had sent him.
When he went doggedly on with the task of
examining the frescoed wall, he thought of Tamar.

" She would be interested," he said to himself.
" She would be rude, of course, and pretend at
first to think nothing of my angel's wing. But
she would eventually give in. I see her sulky
smile of capitulation."

When he was working in the churchyard,
helping Richard to weed the paths, he paused

338 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

in his labour, rested at the base of the moss-grown
preaching cross, and thought of her.

"Tamar would say that weeds were just as
good as flowers, and that we were fools to break
our backs," he said to himself, smiling. " Perhaps
we are, Tamar."

From his position there he glanced around,
his eye resting now on the witch's grave which
Richard was trying to "reclaim," now on the
rather fine old tower, now on some ruined
cottages abutting on the churchyard, two of which
showed the ribs of their roofing in distressful
fashion, and now on the hills In the distance.

" A most desolate set of surroundings," he
said to himself. "But not as bad as Brighton,
and, as Tamar would say, safer."

It was astonishing with what easy adaptability
he was able to throw himself into that solitary
life. Not only did he weed the paths, mow the
grass in the churchyard, and pay unremitting
attention to the frescoed wall, but he even
followed Richard's example by dashing into the
kitchen on all occasions to drag Mrs. Eustace,
whom he had canonized with the title of Saint
Penelope, to his varied scenes of triumph and
activity. At intervals he copied out the church-
wardens' accounts in his minute but clear
handwriting. He studied the fragments of local

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 339

history, and the desultory notes collected by one
of Richard's predecessors, and pieced them
together with a painstaking care and skill which
excited Richard's envy and Mrs. Eustace's
admiration. He took the deepest interest in
Richard's paintings, sketches, and designs, ex-
amining them over and over again, trying to
discover for himself the veiled meaning which
he knew pervaded the simplest subject.

He read and re-read Wordsworth's cOde on
Immortality,' and made out a list of the lines
which he believed that Richard would choose for
illustration. These were one or two of them : —

" The earth and every common sight

To me did seem
Apparelled in celestial light."

" Our souls have sight of that immortal sea
Which brought us hither."

" Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower."

He was delighted when he learnt that some
of his guesses were right ; and disgusted at
some of his wrong shots. He asked whether
Richard could make a symbolic illustration of
that line which haunted him : " Out of the
wreck I rise, past Zeus, to the Potency o'er
him ! " He was thrilled with interest when

340 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

Richard dashed to his table and made a few
wild strokes which he called guiding thoughts.

He unearthed from a drawer some exceedingly
beautiful illuminated letters, also Richard's work,
intended for an illustrated text of the Book of
Ruth, and would not rest until he had persuaded
the young fellow to show him everything that
he had done in that direction also.

He asked many searching questions, and learnt
much concerning the c presences ' by which
Richard believed himself to be surrounded, and
with which he felt himself to be in communion.
He ended by waiting patiently for, and expecting
to see, both Margaret and the old Bible stealer.

Much to Richard's delight, he invented a
realistic and wonderful story of how Tamar's
grandfather had bought the stolen Bible and
sold it to a rich recluse, in whose library it had
lain for years in company with a Coverdale,
unseen by any eyes but his. Then at his death
it had passed into the possession of the family,
one of whose members would, in due time,
guided by the repentant spirit of the old
clergyman, bring it to Tamar's shop. Tamar,
also guided by the spirit of the old clergy-
man, would bring it direct to the church
where it had belonged. Adrian called this story a
psychological family sequence, and elaborated all

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 341

the details in a convincing way which would have
persuaded any hearer of its eventual fulfilment.

It was curious how he harped on that old
Bible stealer. Time after time he returned to
the subject, and Richard, always willing to speak
of presences, repeated faithfully the story of the
old man's visit, described his appearance, and the
details of the binding of the Bible. Adrian made
a remark, the significance of which Richard only
appreciated afterwards. He said that for years
nothing had appealed to his imagination so much
as the thought of that forlorn old reprobate crossing
the barrier to reveal himself in the act of his sin
to Richard because he had understood. He did not
attempt to explain why the story affected him thus
profoundly. He told, in fact, none of his own
feelings, and confided no circumstances of his
own life. About Tamar, of whom Richard spoke
constantly, he was equally uncommunicative.

If Richard had wished to learn from him any
intimate information about her — a purpose far
from his mind — he would have been woefully
disappointed. Once only, when Richard was
talking of her and his face was lit up with a
love and tenderness which attempted no con-
cealment, Adrian let himself go. He held his
hand out to Richard, closed his eyes, and said
in a low voice which betrayed deep emotion :

342 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

" I, too, have always loved her."

So six days passed away, and during this time
all the imperative claims of Adrian Steele's
private and professional life were kept mir-
aculously at bay. But the end of this amazing
spell of apathy was bound to come. The
wonder was that it should have lasted so
long.

It came, of course, swiftly. He had brought
with him Nell's Alpine flora book, but had
forgotten about it until the fifth morning, when
he showed it to Richard, who became as
enthusiastic as himself over the flowers, and said
that if he had to make a choice for a subject,
he would certainly choose to paint a field of
gentians and soft velvety anemones emerging
from the snow.

" 1 don't suppose I could do it," he said.
" But it must be a heavenly sight."

" It is," Adrian answered dreamily.

After that he gazed long and earnestly at
the beautiful plates, and a great craving took
possession of him to see the country which he
loved so passionately. Heart-hunger for the
mountains and the snow peaks seized him.
Stronger and stronger grew the need of his
spirit. But not a single word of what he felt
escaped his lips. He kept the secret of his

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 343

pain and longing locked in his breast. In the
afternoon of the next day, Richard was called
away to the deathbed of an aged woman, and
Adrian went out for a long walk by himself.

He wandered about with no set purpose, taking
any road upon which he chanced, and found
himself at the entrance of the first field leading
to Meyntoun Moat, where he had, at Tamar's
invitation, attended the sale and renewed his
comradeship with her. He strolled on until
he came to the house itself, with its moat, its
bridge, and its fine old fortified walls.

His natural interest in old buildings prompted
him to ring at the gate-house and try to seek
admission. He waited for some little time,
but at length was admitted by the man in
charge, who left him in peace to saunter where
he pleased. He was proceeding to examine
some of the many curious features which had
delighted him on the occasion of his first visit,
when suddenly, without any warning whatsoever,
in the great dining-room, a vision of Robert
Hailsham rose before his mind's eye. The
scene of the Dutch ship enacted there between
them thrust itself on his remembrance. He
saw the rage on Hailsham's face, and the
vindictiveness in his eyes. Then other forms
passed before him in a quick procession : John

344 OU1 OF THE WRECK I RISE.

Noble, with sorrow on his countenance, Cecil, San-
ford, Faversham, Bruce, Chalfont, and the rest.

" I accuse you," each one said as he passed.
" I accuse you.'*

With a start Adrian Steele awoke from his
long spell of apathy and irresponsibility. The
truth flashed upon him. There was no hope
for him. Nothing could save him and his
from dishonour. He might pretend to think
that it could. Tamar might pretend. But
it was only pretence — pretence — pretence. He
knew. Tamar knew. Every one knew. All
the world knew. He rushed out into the great
empty hall with its musicians' gallery, and flung
his arms over his head.

" Ruined, dishonoured, ruined ! " he cried,
as though to an audience — " Alpenrose dis-
honoured — Grace dishonoured — do you hear
me — even my little Alpenrose dishonoured.
Dishonoured, I tell you — what do you think of
that for a man's record ? "

He fled from the scene, driven by fear and
horror.

He found his way to Kineton, to the
'Prince Rupert/ where he learnt that he would
have to wait about an hour for a train. He
asked for pen and ink, and he wrote the
following lines to Richard Forest : —

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 345

"Richard Forest, I go to meet, in my own
way, a disaster confronting me. I thank you
for the larger message. And I thank you
for what you have unconsciously been to me
these four or five days. I shall never see you
again in this phase of life, but my c presence '
will be able to visit you, beyond all doubt,
because, to quote the words of the old Bible
stealer, because you have understood.

"ADRIAN STEELB."

He left the hotel, and walked restlessly up
and down the platform of the station, until the
train came and bore him away.

CHAPTER XVIII.

HPAMAR sat in the inner room listening silently
whilst Christopher Bramfield was urging her
not to sell any of the jewels she cared for so much.
" T. Scott, I beg of you not to part with any of
them," he said. "You will always regret having
done so. This fine emerald, for instance, velvety
and without flaws. You can't mean to let that
go. The thing's impossible. You're out of your
senses. And this lovely pearl, what a shape it
has, hasn't it — you surely can't want to give that
up? And this string of pearls. Why, I can't
believe you're going to sell that. I don't under-
stand you — upon my word, I don't. I assure you
I feel like saying- that I'll have nothing to do with
the business. Do let me persuade you to put
them back in the safe. If it's money you want,
T. Scott, you know you have only to ask me to
lend you some, and I'll do so gladly. But don't
part with your treasures in this irresponsible
fashion. Do take my advice. Come now, I'm
going to put them back in the safe myself."

OUT OF THE WRECK 1 RISE. 347

He rose as he spoke, and Tamar rose too and
put a detaining hand roughly on his arm.

" I intend to sell them," she said fiercely.
"Let them alone. If you won't see after the
matter, then I'll see after it myself."

He laughed a little uneasily, and shrugged his
shoulders.

" You know I'll do anything for you," he said.
" But don't say a few months hence that I did not
remonstrate with you."

He added hesitatingly :

" I fear you are in some difficulty, T. Scott.
How I wish you'd tell me. What has happened
to you ? What has come over you ? You look
fearfully bothered and almost ill. I've been
worrying about you ever since I saw how little
you cared for those stones I brought the other
day. I never saw you so indifferent in my life.
You've got something on your mind. What is it,
I wonder ? "

" That's my affair," Tamar said brusquely, but
not fiercely this time.

"Yes, I suppose it is," Christopher Bramfield
said, with a half sigh ; " though I never cease to
wish that your affairs were mine and mine yours.
Well, well, I'll take the emerald and the string of
pearls and sell them for you. I'll give you a
receipt for them now."

348 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

She watched him write out a receipt, and place
the stones and the string of pearls in his case.
He took a long time over the process, for he had
caught a look of hesitancy on her face, and he
hoped she might still relent and restore her
treasures to their accustomed place. But except
for this one faint sign, she gave no indication of
the sacrifice she was making, nor did she vouch-
safe a single word on the subject. She stood, as
Bramfield had so often seen her stand on other
occasions when he had tried to persuade or guide
her, dully determined and doggedly silent. But
after he had gone, she sighed heavily and beat her
breast.

"My beautiful stones," she murmured, "my
beautiful stones."

It was a lament which came from the depths of
her heart, for she was passionately attached to all
the stones of her beautiful little private collection,
and she had sacrificed two of the finest, as well as
the string of pearls which had been her pride and
joy, for Adrian Steele's sake. But she had made
up her mind that no money except hers should be
offered to any one of his clients, and on examining
some of her investments and inquiring into their
current market value, she had found that she
would have to supplement their total, if she
wished to raise a sufficiently large sum of money

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 349

to buy off, say, Sanford, Cecil, and some of the
others. For this was the only scheme which
appeared to her to contain any possibility whatso-
ever of success. She felt no certainty that even
then Adrian's honour could be saved, but she was
grimly resolved to be prepared for the eventuality.

She tried to cling to the hope that although she
had failed with Hailsham, Nell might be able,
through John Noble, to succeed with the others,
perhaps even with Hailsham. Anyway the money
should be ready, her money, no one else's.

Everything must be tried. No handle must be
left unturned. Project after project must be
contrived, even up to the brink of the precipice.
If Adrian had to go under, it would not be because
there had been no one to think, to plan, to scheme
for him. In her great love and anxious concern
for him, she had risen above the humiliation of
her defeat and disappointment, and when the
freshness of her fury with herself and Hailsham
was over, she had gone to Nell.

" So you see I have failed," she said, after she
had told the pitiful story. "But perhaps if you
make an attempt, with your more honourable
methods, you may succeed, Nell Silberthwaite.
I rather envy you for them, as I told you before.
However, we have to do things in our own way,
and with our own materials. Suppose now you

350 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

try your luck with Hailsham. If you can't do
anything else with him, at least get him to delay
prosecuting until we're dead certain that the rest
of the band can't be bought off. Try to get a
personal interview with him. He's a blustering
commonplace creature with the mind of an oyster,
but he has enough intelligence to know the
difference between you and me. That alone may
help matters. Yes, go and see whether you can
succeed where I've failed. I don't mind now
whether it's* you or myself."

"Tamar," Nell said, deeply touched by her
unselfish impersonality, " whether you've failed or
not failed, remember, for your comfort, that you
arc the one to whom Adrian came for help.
You're the one to whom his heart turns. Noth-
ing can alter that fact for you or for him."

"That's what I've been saying to myself all
along," Tamar answered. " But I didn't expect
you were going to remind me of it. Yet I might
have known you would. I don't mind telling
you that I think you've been generous to me."

" And you've been generous to me," Nell said.
"You sent him to me the other day. I shall
always remember that, Tamar. You could very
easily have been silent about my part if you had
chosen."

" I wanted to at first," Tamar admitted. " And

OUT OF THE WRECK 1 RISE. 351

then I didn't. You see, I've never disliked
you.1'

Nell smiled.

" One of Adrian's old speeches about you
comes floating back to my memory," she said.
" This is it : ' If Tamar likes a person exceedingly
much, she will probably tell you that she does
not altogether dislike that person. Only about
precious stones will she speak in more flattering
terms. Alas, would that I were a precious stone.'
Do you remember, Tamar ? "

Tamar nodded. A faint smile flitted across her
face, too, but faded at once.

" Well, I'll try to arrange through Mr. Noble
about seeing Hailsham," Nell said after a pause,
" and I'll come and report to you."

"And I'll get all the money ready, and I'll
take another look at his accounts and see whether
I can make anything of them," said Tamar. " At
present, as you're aware, he's numbed and paralyzed,
and isn't facing things. But when he awakes, we
must be able to convince him that he has a good
chance of righting himself. If his brain has
recovered its power, he will do the rest."

Nell remained silent. She knew, as well as
Tamar, that they were leading a forlorn hope, and
that when Adrian awoke, he too would know.
But they did not confess this to each other, and

352 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

they parted after a long detailed consultation, in
which eventual failure was never even mentioned
as a possibility. Every source of influence was to
be tapped. No effort was to be spared.

That was two or three days ago, and this morn-
ing Nell had written to say that Hailsham was out
of town, but that she hoped to secure an early
interview with him directly he returned, and that
she would call in during the afternoon, as she had
several things to report. Mr. Noble wished to
see Tamar and learn from her some of the details
about Sanford's affairs. Meantime he sent the
message that he rather believed that San ford
could be persuaded to remain quiescent ; but he
was not sure.

So after Christopher Bramfield had gone, Tamar,
dismissing from her mind the memory of her
sacrifice, looked out the double set of Sanford's
accounts, and began to calculate roughly to what
extent Adrian had taxed this particular client.
She was deep in the tiresome and intricate task,
and had lost herself in renewed amazement over
the elaborately worked out scheme of continuous
fraud, when a ring came at the shop door, and she
had to rouse herself to answer it. To her amaze-
ment she found Richard Forest standing in the
shop. He looked the picture of distracted
bewilderment.

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 353

" You here ! " she exclaimed, with kindness and
astonishment in her voice. "Why, what's the
matter with you ? You look half out of your

senses.'*

"T. Scott, I am out of my senses," he said
excitedly. " He's gone — disappeared in my ab-
sence— wrote this letter at the c Prince Rupert ' —
took the train — disappeared — look at it — read it
— what does he mean — gone to meet a disaster
confronting him — in his own way — what disaster —
can't you explain it — we were having such a happy
time together — I liked him so tremendously,
T. Scott — and then for him to go off like this —
suddenly — without any warning — if only I could
have seen him and spoken one word to him — tell
me what it all means — I must know."

Tamar, who had turned deadly pale, took the
letter and read it.

" It means that he has awakened," she said
slowly. " It means that he has fled from — "

" From what, from what ? " Richard interrupted.
« What has he fled from ? "

" From prosecution for frauds committed by
him," Tamar said, almost inaudibly.

" It isn't possible," Richard cried. " I'll never
believe it of him. Never."

" You'll have to believe it," Tamar said in the
same low voice. " It's — it's the truth."

12

354 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

"T. Scott, T. Scott, what are you telling me ?"
he cried in an agony of spirit.

He flung himself on a chair, and covered his
face with his hands. Vivid reminders of hitherto
hidden import flashed now like lightning across
his mind. He recalled the intense, almost morbid,
interest Adrian Steele had taken in the derelict
old Bible stealer. He remembered how constantly
Adrian Steele had inquired about and dwelt on
the histories of the other clergymen who had
c gone under * in that desolate life, and with
what a painfully strained manner he had quoted
those words from Browning : " Out of the wreck
I rise, past Zeus y to the "Potency oer him /" and asked
whether they were not suitable for symbolic illus-
tration. These and many other thoughts held
Richard Forest in bondage, whilst Tamar leaned
with her elbows on the counter, turned to stone,
and staring vacantly at Adrian Steele's letter with
its message of impending and inevitable doom.

It was thus that Nell found them. She stood
in the centre of the shop, and glanced in deep
anxiety and alarm from Tamar to Richard and
from Richard to Tamar.

" Tamar," she cried, " what is it ? Has any-
thing fearful happened ? What is it? For Heaven's
sake speak — say something."

Tamar showed no sign that she saw Nell or

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 355

realized her presence, but answered in a voice
which had no resonance in it :

" Adrian has gone — disappeared."

" But where — where ? " Nell asked impetuously.

" How should I know ? " Tamar answered
without stirring.

" Can't you tell me anything ? I know he has
been staying with you," Nell cried, turning im-
ploringly to Richard Forest who had now uncovered
his face. " I beg of you to tell me. He is an old
friend of mine, too, and very, very dear to me, un-
speakably dear to me.'*

"I know nothing except what his letter tells
us," he said with great gentleness. "Here it is.
Please read it."

Nell read it. It fell from her hands ; and she,
too, became like Tamar, stunned, paralyzed.

It was Richard Forest who roused them both
to life and action. He sprang up suddenly, his
natural dreaminess converted by magic to some
inspired purpose, and his face aglow with a strange
smile of rapture, as though he saw and were being
prompted by some distant vision veiled to other
eyes.

<c Well, we must search for him," he cried.
" We must search everywhere, and never, never
rest until we've found him. You, his old friends,
will be able to give the lead. But I shall come

356 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

with you — I must come with you in your
search."

" You will come with us ? " they both repeated,
half in wonder at him and half in joyful surprise.

" Why, of course," he answered. " I arranged
for all that and wired to an old friend to take my
place. Do you imagine that I could stay behind
eating my heart away in inaction — I who have had
him with me these few days and entered into a
comradeship with him which nothing in any phase
of existence can break. What do I care about his
frauds and his failings ? I only know him as I
found him. Of course I shall go with you. And
we'll never give up the search until we find him."

He had sounded the chord which set their
brains and hearts in vibration again. He had
broken in upon their dull despair, and won their
instant gratitude and confidence by ranging him-
self instinctively on the side of the man whom
they both loved. Nell, who had only seen him
for a moment before when he came to sell the
crucifix, and had only heard vaguely from Tamar
that Adrian was stopping with him, felt at once
the noble attraction in him which had drawn
Tamar to him from the beginning, and had stirred
in Adrian an impulse of imperishable trust. They
began immediately to consult about what was
to be done, and of course the first plan which

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 357

suggested itself, was to make inquiries at his own
home ; and since Adrian had been last in Richard
Forest's company, it seemed only natural that he
should be the one to bring the news that his guest
had disappeared and had left behind him a dis-
quieting letter.

"Yes, you'd better go there,*' Tamar said.
" But he's not likely to be there. I suppose he
spoke to you of his wife and his child, Alpenrose ?"

" He gave me no confidences, and I didn't want
them, T. Scott," Richard said simply. " He
spoke of no one except you — and then only once.
Some day I will tell you what he said."

A tremor passed over Tamar's face. She
turned away.

Nell came to her help.

"Yes, you'd better go to his home," she said
to Richard Forest. " But it's true he is not likely
to be there, because you see — well, you see he
couldn't be there — if — if he couldn't face things.
If I didn't know the circumstances, I should have
come first of all to Tamar and expected to find
him here — in the inner room. And failing that,
I should have gone to the mountains."

"The mountains," Tamar repeated crossly.
" And why the mountains ? "

"Because he loved them, Tamar," Nell said.
" He loved them passionately."

358 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

" Yes, yes, he loved them," Richard said. " He
talked a great deal about them, and always with
an intense yearning, especially the last evening he
was with me. He had with him an Alpine flora
book which we studied together."

" It was my book," Nell said involuntarily.

" Yours ? " Tamar said fiercely. " Yours ? "

" When you sent him to me," Nell said, " he
took it away with him as what he called Author-
ized plunder.' We spoke about the mountains,
and the mountains only. He said he hungered
for them, and had been dreaming of the snow
peaks and the Alpine glow. And — "

" Well, well," Tamar said impatiently.

" And I remember he said that his Alpine heart
was in a little village called Wassen, in or near
the Meienthal," Nell went on.

" He never told me that," Tamar said sullenly.
But she recovered herself at once and added :

"Well, the great point is he told one of us.
For I don't mind owning that this is a sort of
clue."

" Instinct tells me that he has gone to the moun-
tains for refuge and shelter," Nell said ; and as
she spoke a vision rose before her of Adrian and
herself standing in silence looking at that mountain
picture and parting in silence.

"Yes," she repeated, it's to the mountains he

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 359

has gone, Tamar. I feel increasingly sure of it.
And to that little village he loved, with its church
perched on the hill : c forsaken by the tourist
and scorned by the climbers.* Those were his
very words about it. It's to little Wassen he
has gone."

"That's the place he described to me," Richard
said. " I remember well about the church. It's
there that we must go. I'll run round to his
home first to make inquiries and give the alarm,
and then we'll be off at once. There's no time to
be lost. We must follow him at once before — "

" Before it is too late," Nell said, with bowed
head.

" It is too late," Tamar said in a low voice.
" Don't you know that ? "

"No," Richard said firmly. "I refuse to
know it. We shall find him and reach out our
hands to him — and not in vain."

They did not gainsay him, for they glanced at
him, saw the amazing radiance on his face, and
were kindled by the idealism of his spirit, of
which it was the outward and visible sign.

That same evening they started for the
mountains.

END OF PART I.

PART II.
CHAPTER I.

"ACH> Herrsott> k's Herr

old Frau Anderegg, as a carriage drove
up to the little green-shuttered hotel in Wassen.
" Frida, Christian, Johann, quick, quick ! "

She shook Adrian Steele's hands times without
number, interspersing all her remarks of welcome
with frantic cries of " Frida, Christian, Johann !
Quick, quick ! "

In less than a minute the whole family had
rallied round him and borne him triumphantly
into the house. It was easy to see that they
all loved him.

" Our first visitor," they cried, " and our
most welcome one ! "

"Thank you, thank you," he said, his face
wreathed in smiles. " Why, Frau Anderegg,
you don't look a single month older — not a
month. But Frida, on the contrary, has grown
up, in very truth. Never did I think she'd
grow up I And pray, what has she done with

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 361

her pigtail ? Ah, Johann, you'll need to have
another photograph taken of you at your
carving, I plainly see. And Christian, dear old
Christian, he looks broader and stronger than
ever. I might even say handsomer ! But I
won't ! Upon my soul, Frau Anderegg, the
grandchildren do us credit — don't they ? Quite
unexpectedly too ! Well, well, it's good to be
amongst you all again. It's good to be here ! "

He stepped back impulsively to the door and
glanced round him, at the dwarf chestnut trees
guarding the hotel, at the green tables and
green seats and green boxes with plants. To
the left the snow mountains, the Windgelle
graciously unveiling its glittering snow peak to
bid him welcome. In front of him the sweet
pasture meadows stretching down to the edge
of the headlong river. Fragrance from the
flowers wafted from all sides. Music from
the cowbells mingling in discordant harmony.
Sunlight catching the windows of the old brown
chalets on the mountain slopes opposite.
" Ah," he said, " I have always loved it ! "
" Yes, yes, you have always loved it," the
old Frau said, putting her arm through his.
" But you can look at the mountains later. You
must come and rest and eat. I can see you're
tired. But the good air will soon restore you."

12 a

362 OUT OF THE WRECK 1 RISE.

Then he gave himself up to all their
affectionate care, and was soon enjoying a
splendid meal of trout, schnitzel, and potatoes,
glorified by a bottle of best Sassella.

Meantime the news spread in the village that
Herr Steele had come. It penetrated to the
recesses of the schoolhouse, exciting and delight-
ing the hearts of the teachers, the holy sisters,
Gertrude and Alusina, who forthwith dispatched
two of the children to the Meienthal to gather
alpenrose.

"You remember," they said to each other,
"he always liked the alpenrose better than
anything."

"We must invite him again to beer and
black sausage," comely Schwester Gertrude
laughed. " Na, that was a merry afternoon
when Christian Anderegg brought him to visit us."

"Yes," laughed little Schwester Alusina.
"And do you remember how he tried to teach
us English, and we learnt to say, 'We beg
your very much pardon ! Very much pardon ! '

The news was not very long in reaching the
grocery store, where the good Frau immediately
began to interview her stock of chocolate and
krOpfli cakes.

"He will want a lot for the children," she
said with a smile, which was a curious mixture

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 363

of tenderness and business. "I must telephone
at once to Goeschenen for some more supplies."

She was not indiscreet in the precautions
she took, for Adrian Steele soon arrived at
the shop, and bought her out of house and
home.

" You know, Frau Bergen," he said, " I have
always maintained that this is a dangerous
region, unless one is well armed with sure
weapons of defence ! "

Thus he settled down in the little village, and
was welcomed by the villagers as an old friend
whom they knew and trusted.

When he fled to Switzerland, he was guided
by no definite plan, except that of reaching the
region which he loved. But even on his journey,
dimly outlined ideas began to take form ; and
that first night, as he lingered on the balcony
of his bedroom, and drew in long, deep breaths
of the invigorating air, and watched the stars,
and listened to the rushing of the impatient
river, an overwhelming sense of the finality of
things swept over him, and he stood, even
then, as a man might stand to hear and receive
his sentence of dismissal. But sheer bodily
fatigue intervened, and he slept and rested
dreamlessly.

In the morning he was up early. He took

364 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

his breakfast in front of the hotel, at a little
green table near the chestnut tree which had
always been considered his special property,
and was always fiercely guarded for him by
the whole household. He drank his coffee,
greeted the villagers as they passed, was intro-
duced to Lilie, Vergissmeinnicht and Nora, the
leading ladies of various companies of cows
changing their pasturage, and heard all the news
of the family from Frida, Johann, and Christian.
Christian produced the stick which Adrian had
given him some years ago, and on which
Adrian had himself cut and burnt the words :
" Immer will ich Christian unterstutzen"

" I suppose you are going off to the Meienthal,"
he said. " Here's my stick for you. But don't
dare to let anything happen to it. I value it,
I can tell you/'

"To no other human being on earth would
Christian lend it," Frida said, "not even to his
Schatzlein, Herr Steele."

" I feel the honour deeply," Steele said, as
he took the stick and examined it. "Yes,
Christian, I was always proud of this per-
formance of mine, my one and only achievement
in carving. And of course I'm off to the
Meienthal. But I must have a look first at
the meadows, and see close at hand v/hat the

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 365

flowers are doing. They looked lovely as I
came along yesterday."

"You'll find the flowers rather behindhand,"
Frida said. "Why, fancy, we had snow three
days ago. It's the longest winter I ever re-
member in my whole, whole life."

" What a valuable record of length ! " Adrian
remarked, with a smile. "Why, Frida, you
might have lived centuries instead of minutes ! "

"All the same, it is the longest, severest
winter we've had in these parts for many long
years," Christian said, laughing. "And now
there's a touch of Fshnwind. But it'll pass oflF.
We had a threatening yesterday and it came to
nothing."

At that moment the old Frau appeared on
the scenes.

"Ah, you're off for your favourite walk, I
suppose," she said. " Now don't go too far,
and don't be out too long. Such fearful long
walks you always take. Now mind, Herr Steele,
come back in good time."

They watched him as he passed up the village,
and waved to him. Then they went back to
their work ; and he, climbing one of the lower
slopes, feasted his eyes on the jewelled loveliness
of the flowered meadows, and saw that the forget-
me-nots and ragged robins were richer than ever

366 OUT OF THE WRECK 1 RISE.

in colour, that the cowslips, pansies and daisies
were mingling in rich profusion with the grass of
the pastures, and that all the varying shades of
yellow and purple contributed to a vision of beauty
which did not fall short of the ideal picture which
haunted his memory.

He lingered there for half an hour or so. He
found it a little difficult to leave the village and
its immediate surroundings. He loved all its
features, its church, its sentinel mountain, the
little Windgelle, its river, its valley, yes, and its
railway. He did not think the railway had spoilt
it. It interested and delighted him to watch the
trains toiling up the steep ascents, now disappear-
ing into the seclusion of tunnels when things were
too much for them, and now emerging triumphantly
for a while and calling out with shrill shrieks :
" Hurrah ! another stage of the journey done !
Aren't we just clever ? "

tc Supposing I don't go to the Meienthal
to-day," he said to himself. " Supposing I stay
here to-day."

But some inner voice answered :

"You must not stay here. You must go to
the Meienthal."

He sighed and rose from the bank where he
had been resting, and started for the Meienthal
up the steep side road, a bridle road only, to the

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 367

left of the old stone fountain in the centre of the
village. Fidio, the baker's dog, seldom allowed
any one to go to the Meienthal without his com-
pany, and having stretched himself and yawned,
he accepted a mouthful of krOpfli, and decided to
bestow the favour of his presence on this stranger.
Was he a stranger, though ? Well, well, Fidio
was getting old, and his memory was beginning to
fail him ; but, as he went along over the rough
stones, forgotten thoughts returned to him, and
he waited for Adrian Steele by the first crucifix —
a quite unusual attention for him to show to any
one — and licked the hand of his old friend.

"Ah, Fidio," Adrian said, as he stooped down
and patted the old dog, " many and many a time
weVe gone this walk together, when you were
younger — and I was lighter-hearted."

He paused awhile and looked down at the
sweet scenes which he had left, and then he turned
his back on little Wassen and set his face towards
the SustenhOrner, glimpses of which he already
saw in the distance. They beckoned to him with
all their white magic, and he said aloud : <c / come,
I come."

On he went, now over an open and grassy
expanse where some cows were grazing, and where
he found, in the person of a small fair-haired boy,
the first of his chocolate and kropfli clients ; now

368 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

over rocks and stones, caressed by lovely little
rills ; and now through the thickening forest which
shut off the view of the mountains. This was
the region of the alpenrose, and he climbed up
the rocks to the left of him, and gathered for him-
self some of this well-loved treasure. It was
already coming into bloom, and the sight of it
filled his heart with tenderest longings.

"My little Alpenrose," he cried in sudden
agony. " Am I never to see you again ? — oh, it isn't
possible — it isn't possible — it's an evil dream — it
can't be the truth — it shall not be the truth."

He threw himself down and wept, long and
silently. What were the thoughts which over-
whelmed him? Remorse for what he had done,
or regrets at having at last to pay the penalty of
what he had done ? Who could say ? But when
he raised his head after his spell of bitter suffering,
he saw an old woman with her basket on her bent
back, standing beside him and shaking her head
gravely.

" Hast thou also lost some loved one ? " she
said. " See, that little cross on that rock marks
the spot where my grandson met his death this
winter. I look at it as I pass, and I weep always.
Hast thou also lost some loved one ? "

" Alas, my good mother," Steele said, " I have
lost all my loved ones — all."

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 369

" My poor son," she said pityingly. " And
thou hast dropped all the alpenrose too."

"Let it lie," he said. "I don't need it. I
have no heart for it. And so your grandson met
his death here ? "

" Yes," she^said. " It was late at night and he
had been drinking. But he was a good boy:
faithful and true."

It flashed through Adrian Steele's mind that
the young man's life and end were to be envied.
And he knew well that it was the representative
story of many of the crosses and crucifixes which
dotted the wild Meienthal. Well, far better that
than his own record of sustained treachery and
deceit.

" Good mother," he said gently, " be thankful
always that he was faithful and true. That's
what matters most."

He slipped a franc piece into her thin old hand,
and she bade him stand to receive an old woman's
blessing.

He stooped to pick up one single sprig of the
alpenrose, and passed on his way. He glanced
at the carpet of anemones, moss,, ferns, and
pink-flowered whortleberry beneath the pines and
larches, and lingered once to look at some golden
saxifrage fringing a fairy pool ; but he longed to
come out into the open and see the mountains,

370 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

and he hastened his steps and did not rest until
the forest stood behind him, and the mountains
were spread before him in all their entrancing
loveliness.

Some of the gloom lifted from his soul. The
play of light and colour, the clouds, the sunshine,
the glittering snow peaks, the bracing air, the
beauty of the surrounding scenery filled him with
rapture.

"Ah," he said, "it's good to be alive, and in
this heavenly air. The cold crispness of the
winter not gone. The fierce heat of the summer
not come. The light still soft and recalling mem-
ories of snow-laden skies. And not so much as a
thought of that uncompromising glare."

He crossed a huge, dirty-brown avalanche, pre-
ceded by Fidio, who had darted on in front, in
order to reassure him that there was no danger.
A few yards higher up, he crossed the slender
bridge which seemed but a frail pathway over the
raging, tumbling Meienreuss beneath.

"A man might end his life here, easily enough,"
he thought.

The sunshine was jewelling the snow-white
surf of the great waves with diamonds of finest
water — not yielding in beauty even to the dia-
monds which the sun shows us in the glittering
snow plains.

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 371

" Jewels for Tamar," he said, with a half smile.
" Priceless ones, too."

As he spoke her name, the thought of her swept
over him with sudden overwhelming force.

"Tamar, Tamar," he cried in an agony of spirit,
u is it true, must it be true, that I have to leave
you when I have only just found you ? Yes, I
know it's true, and you know it too."

For he realized with increasing clearness that
he had to disappear, for little Alpenrose's sake,
for his wife's sake, for his own sake. Tamar
would understand that there was nothing else for
him to do. She would not think that he had
again forsaken her. She would know. And it
dawned on him that she had known all along, and
that she had been willing to sacrifice her money —
the thing she valued most on earth — in order to
hearten him and thus delay the inevitable end.

" Oh, my own Tamar," he cried again, " am I
never to see you again to thank you for this great
love which 1 have never deserved, but which is
mine all the same, and which makes me feel not
alone in this hour of desolation ? "

On the other side of the river he found two
little goat boys taking care of a flock of goats,
some of which were disporting themselves by the
waterside, and others were strolling on their way
up the valley in one long thin line : a picturesque

372 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

sight Adrian had always liked to see. One of the
boys darted forward to greet him.

" I remember you/' he cried delightedly. " Do
you remember me ? Wilhelm, the naughtiest boy
in the school ? "

Adrian smiled at the little eager face.

" I remember that the holy sisters always said
Wilhelm was the naughtiest boy in the school,"
he said with mock gravity. " Far, far too naughty
for chocolate and krOpm' ! "

"And you said perhaps the chocolate and
krflpfli would make me better ! " the boy laughed.

"Well, perhaps it did, and perhaps it might
now," Adrian said, fumbling in his pocket.
"Who knows?"

The boys danced gleefully round him as he
produced the traditional dainties, and were soon
busy munching them, and yodelling in between.

"If you look hard," Wilhelm said, wishing to
entertain him, " you'll see sheep on that big lawine
yonder. That fell two years ago. Two men
were killed. Don't you see the cross lower down ?
I see it distinctly. It's near the first sheep. Do
you see it ? I don't want to be killed by a lawine,
do you? A lot of them this year higher up on
the left. You'll notice them as you go. Shall I
come and shiDw them to you ? "

Adrian shook his head.

OUT OF THE WRECK i RISE. 373

" I shall know them," he said. " Stay and
mind your goats, Wilhelm. Don't let them fall
into the water. That one with the white tuft is a
daring chap, isn't he ? Why, the dog has gone !
Call him back for me, Wilhelm."

" Fidio never goes further than the bridge," the
boy answered. " No use calling him. We'll call if
you like, but you'll see you will have to go alone."

They laughed as they watched the old dog
quietly retracing his steps, ignoring entirely the
shouts which were hurled unsparingly at his head.

" You'll have to go alone," Wilhelm said. " I
told you so."

"Yes," Adrian answered, and he took up his
stick, nodded good-bye to his companions, and
passed on.

Wilder and wilder grew the coxmtry. The
trees on the lower slopes had disappeared. Stone
and grass everywhere. A barren region decorated
only by brooks innumerable. But always the
Sustenhorner beckoning with ever-changing loveli-
ness : always the magic of the mountains casting
its spell on those to whom the maismtams stand
for something more than meets the outer eye.

Breezes straight from the glaciers to which he
was now coming nearer, were borne to him. He
felt strong and invigorated, ready for any effort
of body or brain.

374 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

" Surely I have been exaggerating the danger
of my position/' he said. " 1 begin to believe
that even now I could go back and put everything
straight. If I can do this, there is no reason why
I should disappear. If I can save my honour and
theirs, I have the right to live. And I want to
live. I will live/'

Thus torn between new-born hope and former
acceptance of impending doom, he arrived at
Meien. The children were just out from school,
and when he saw them, his heart leapt out to them
in tender kindness, for he thought at once of his
own little Alpenrose. He singled out the little
girls nearest to her in age, patted their heads, and
began with them his distribution of all his remain-
ing chocolate and krtfpfli. Out came the school-
mistress to welcome him, and he stood with her
amidst the group of happy, excited little ones,
talking to them, laughing with them as only one
who loved children could possibly do.

"And your own little girl whom you called
Alpenrose ? " the schoolmistress asked. " You
know you promised to bring her one day.1'

" Ah," he said, turning away, " I shall never
bring her now. I have lost her."

The words escaped him before he knew, and
the sound of them echoed back to him as a final
answer to the new-born hope. It died forthwith.

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 375

"Come and rest in my house/' the school-
mistress said gently. She saw the change of
expression on his face, and knew that the memory
of his great sorrow had struck at his heart.

But he pointed to the little church, and she
nodded her head, dispersed the children with a
wave of her hand, and held the church door open
for him to enter. Then she left him, as she
thought, to mourn his little dead child. He sat
there and mourned, not Alpenrose, but his own
dead self — that dead self which had once had a
fair name, a clear record, and fine ideals and
ambitions.

Alas for one's dead self — alas for the flaws in
one's nature which were the cause of the wreck.

" The wreck," he said aloud.

The word brought back the remembrance of
that line of Browning's which he had urged
Richard Forest to illustrate. He spoke it in a
whisper.

" Out of the wreck I rise, past Zeus, to the
Potency o'er him."

And what had Richard Forest said ? Adrian
spoke that in a whisper too.

" People don't go under. They rise out of the
wreck, somehow."

He saw Richard's face before him. He heard
his voice. He felt his healing presence.

376 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

When he rose, he stood for a moment with
bowed head, and said :

" John Noble, I ask your forgiveness."

He had reached the door of the church when
he heard the children's cries and the sound of
their laughter. He waited until the school bell
rang, and they were safely in school again. He
had not the courage to encounter them a second
time.

He called at the AlpenrOsli Inn, where he had
always been wont to have his cup of coffee and
his chat with old Sebastian Ogi and his wife, who
had lived there many years. In former years, long
since past, Sebastian had been a guide, until an
accident had crippled him for life. But he was
not too old nor too frail to know the signs of the
weather, and he told Adrian Steele that they were
in for a sudden change, and that he believed there
would yet be a whole crop of avalanches in the
district.

"You see," he explained, "we've had very late
snow this year. It's the latest and heaviest winter
that I remember for years. Think of it, the Furka
Pass not open yet. And now, with the Fflhnwind
coming, things will happen, I tell you."

" Ach, Herr Steele, then you will not go far,"
the old woman said, as she poured him out another
cup of coffee.

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 377

" No, I'll not go far ; not too far," Adrian
answered, smiling at her.

"Oh, you'll be able to go a good step yet,"
Sebastian said. " No danger for a long way yet.
But if you get as far, don't branch off to the
Kalchthal, for instance. I wouldn't answer for
you there. The Stticklistock and the Hintere
Sustenhorn are very generous with their lawinen
there."

" I'll remember," Adrian said, and he asked a
few questions about the winter months, and learnt
a great deal he had never known about the dif-
ferent kinds of avalanches. It struck him as he
listened, how strange it was that he should care
to add to his knowledge now, at this juncture.

"Habit, I suppose," he thought. "I have
always craved to know. Well, I could write
a very creditable paragraph or two now on the
difference between Staub, Schlag, and Grund Lawinen.
I see I have never properly distinguished them
before. It's a good thing to have them clear in
one's mind, even at the eleventh hour. I wonder
whether Nell has them clear. Probably. There
is nothing about the mountains that she does
not know."

As he thought of Nell, it passed through his
mind that she would be the only one who would
guess that he had gone to the mountains. Many

378 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

and many a time he had told her, half in jest
and half in earnest, that it would be his wish
to die in the snow mountains, to the sound of
Chopin's Nocturne in C. minor. Yes, Nell would
know. And she would know that he had come
to Wassen, for he remembered now that he had
spoken of it to her as the home of his Alpine
heart. He rose instantly, impelled by a new
fear.

" I must hasten on," he said to himself.
" There is no time to lose."

" Not the Kalchthal, remember ! " the old Frau
called after him.

" Turn back at Farnigen, or stay there, if they
tell you to,'* Sebastian Ogi said.

He nodded, smiled at them cheerfully, waved
his hand, and went on his way.

Now he was getting nearer and nearer to the
mountains. They were becoming more entrancing
too, because more elusive. Thick gray clouds,
the colour of a dove's breast, tore across them,
now obscuring them altogether, and now leaving
them free to reveal themselves in momentary
visions of splendour. These lovely glimpses of
them filled Adrian's heart with added love and
longing, and again he said : " / come, I come / "

He passed through Farnigen without stopping
or making any inquiries about the changes and

OUT OF THE WRECK 1 RISE. 379

chances of the weather. He knew for himself
now that the Fohnwind was doing its appointed
work on the mass of accumulated snow suspended
in high stations.

" My poor Grace," he said, " when you hear
my history, you will thank the Ffthnwind as I
thank it. A mantle, Grace, that's what it will
prove to be — for you — for me — for Alpenrose."

Ah, there were gentians at last, the little ones,
with the white star eyes. What a glad sight 1
What a pity that the spring was so late ! Such
a handful of flowers, and yet how sweet to see
them singly, each of them harbingers of the waiting
myriads. And now, higher up, patches of snow
on the green pastures, encircled by tiaras of white
and purple crocuses. Well, well, that alone was
worth coming to see ! Which was the whiter,
the snow or the crocus ? Ah, and here was snow
surrounded by yellow flowers. What were those
yellow flowers ? He ought to know. Aha, a
soldanella ! He stooped down and picked it.

Then he looked back for the first time, and saw
that he had come a long way. How far off every-
thing seemed. How like a dream everything
seemed to him in the life he had left. How de-
tached he had become from time and space and
circumstance. How the relativities had changed.
How far away he had journeyed from every one —

380 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

except Tamar. A smile of infinite tenderness came
over his face.

" Tamar, Tamar," he called aloud. " I'm
calling to you."

He stood and waited until the last echo of the
words had died into silence, and with it the last
yearning of his heart.

He pressed on.

Death. Well, why not death ? Fear of death ?
Certainly and absolutely not. The fear of death
had been manufactured and fostered by the priests
for their own purposes of power, as scares were
manufactured and fostered by the press. No, not
fear, but wonderment, intense curiosity, the thrill
of new experience, the joy and pride of fresh
knowledge. The personal discovery by oneself,
alone, unaided, of a country about which there had
been no authentic information. Imagine that.
Surmises of every differentiation : theological,
philosophical, ethical, scientific, spiritual — but only
surmises.

And now he was going to know.

So with his face set towards the mountains, now
revealing themselves, now concealing themselves,
Adrian Steele went forward.

CHAPTER II.

HP HE hours went by, and Adrian Steele did not
return to Wassen. All the family Anderegg
were a little worried, for the Fohnwind had been
blowing hard and strong, and the inhabitants knew
well that, as Sebastian Ogi had said at Meien,
things would happen. But they did not become
definitely anxious until the postman arrived from
Meien and brought the news that the avalanches
were falling, and that the Susten Pass was said to
be blocked. He himself had heard from the
schoolmistress that Herr Steele had been at Meien,
but more than that he did not know. They tele-
phoned at once to Meien, and learnt that he had
not come back there. They communicated with
Farnigen, and were told that Johann Aimer, the
woodcutter, had noticed a stranger gathering
flowers about half a kilometre from the hamlet.
The people of the Stein Alp Hotel, at the foot
of the huge Stein Glacier, in answer to inquiries,
said that he was not there.

Night came, and he had not returned. Old
Frau Anderegg wept silently. Frida sobbed

382 OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE.

without ceasing. Johann could not settle to his
carving. Christian went about with strained face.
A search party was arranged, and as soon as it was
light in the morning they started off on their
journey.

They searched for the whole day, and found no
trace of him. He seemed to have disappeared off
the face of the earth.

Then Sebastian Ogi said :

"Try the Kalchthal. We warned him not to
go there, but he was always a daring one, and he
liked that wild part. He came down that way
once from the Sustenjoch."

They went there, and high up in the valley they
found a huge avalanche, freshly fallen. The white
monster lay across the track, with its head resting
on the rising ground on the other side of the track.
In its passage, it had mown off groups of firs and
larches, and their trunks could be seen scattered
pell-mell amongst the rocks and ice. It was
extraordinarily thick, and its size alone baffled all
their attempts to make a successful search.

" Even if he is here, we shan't find him now,"
Peter Mailer said. " We must leave him."

So they gave up the impossible task, reluctantly,
but wisely, for they had discovered no clue to help
and guide them.

But Christian Anderegg was not satisfied, and

OUT OF THE WRECK I RISE. 383

the next morning, without saying a word to any
one, he returned alone to the avalanche ; and con-
siderably higher up, on a boulder, hurled there no
doubt in fury by the blast, he saw his stick —
"Immer will ich Christian unterstutzen" He seized
it and brought it home. He could not speak when
he showed it to them.

They knew then for certain that Adrian Steele
lay there, somewhere, entombed beneath that white
impenetrable mass.

"We shall find him in September," the old
guide said.

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