(logo)
(navigation image)
Home American Libraries | Canadian Libraries | Universal Library | Open Source Books | Project Gutenberg | Biodiversity Heritage Library | Children's Library | Additional Collections

Search: Advanced Search

Anonymous User (login or join us)Upload
See other formats

Full text of "Rachel Dene. A tale of the Deepdale Mills"

Ex Librii 
: C. K. OGDEN 



-*--*--*--*--*■-*- 



Iff 



^LTER BACON'S 



Subscription Library, 



284 BRIXTON HILL. 



£ s, d. 

One Month - 2 6 

Three Months - 6 6 

Six Months - 12 

Twelve Months - 1 1 

Xh'lV nooKS ARK COXSTAX'n.y^ ADDFJ). 



DAILY PAPERS, PERIODICALS, 
AND MAGAZINES SUPPLIED. 



Bookbinding and Printing. 
Die Sinking & Engraving. Relief Stamping. 



And at 10 T'JLSE HILL. 



RACHEL DENE 




THE LIBRARY 

OF 

THE UNIVERSITY 

OF CALIFORNIA 

LOS ANGELES 



RACHEL DENE 



A TALE OF THE DEEPDALE MILLS 



EV 



ROBERT BUCHANAN 

AUTHOR OF 
'god and the man," " THE SHADOW OF THE SWORD," ETC. 




A NE IV EDITION 



ill LONDON 

(?HATTO & WINDUS, PICCADn.LY 



1895 



ROBERT BUCHANAN'S WORKS. 

Crown Svo, cloth extra, 6s. each, 

SELECTED POEMS OF ROBERT BUCHANAN. With Frontis- 
piece by T. Dalziel. 

THE EARTHQUAKE ; or, Six Days and a Sabbath. 

THE CITY OF DREAM: An Epic Poem. With Two Illustrations by 
P. Macnab. 

THE WANDERING JEW: A Christmas Carol. Second Edition. 

Small demy Svo, cloth extra, 8s. 

THE OUTCAST: A Rhyme for the Time. With 15 Illustrations by 
KuDOLF Blisd, Peter Mackab, and Hume Nisbex. 

Crown Svo, cloth extra, 7s. 6d. 

ROBERT BUCHANAN'S COMPLETE POETICAL WORKS. 
With Steel-plate Portrait. 

Crown Svo, cloth extra, 3s. 6d. each; post Svo, illustj'ated boards, 2s. each. 

THE SHADOW OF THE SWORD. 

A CHILD OF NATURE. 

GOD AND THE MAN. With 11 Illustrations by Feed Baenaed. 

THE MARTYRDOM OF MADELINE. 

LOVE ME FOR EVER. ANNAN WATER. 

FOXGLOVE MANOR. THE NEW ABELARD. 

MATT : A Story of a Caravan. 

THE MASTER OF THE MINE. 

THE HEIR OF LINNE. 

Crow7i Svo, cloth extra, 3s. 6d. each. 
WOMAN AND THE MAN. 
RED AND WHITE HEATHER. 
RACHEL DENE. 

Crown Svo, cloth extra, 63. 
LADY KILPATRICK. 

Two Vols., lOs. net, 
THE CHARLATAN. By Robert Buchanan and Henry Mue rat, 

London: CHATTO & WINDUS, Piccadilly. 



I / dUK i:2L 



A 



f 






CONTENTS. 



CHAriER 

I. Found in the Snow 




PAGE 
1 


II. 


Bad News travels Fast 




9 


III. 


Little Rachel 




... 19 


IV. 


Two Lads and a Lass ... 




28 


V. 


A Game at Lawn-Tennis 




... 39 


VI. 


The Great Invention 




49 


VII. 


A Black Monday 




... 57 


VIII. 


Ealph Mollis ... 




68 


IX. 


A Forewarning 




... 76 


X. 


The Feast op St. Leger 




83 


XI. 


After the Legeb 




... 95 


XII. 


Jabez Prtke's Vigil 




103 


XIII. 


Up at the Mill 




... 113 


XIV. 


The Dead Man ... 




118 


XV. 


The Inquest 




... 124 


XVI. 


The Earl of Beauchamp 




131 


XVII. 


The Primrose Path ... 




... 144 


iVIII. 


'TwixT Dover and Calais 




156 



VI" CONTENTS. 

CHAPTKE J-AOB 

XIX. Guilty or not Guilty ... ... ... 165 

XX. Under Sentence of Death ... ... 170 

XXI. Prison Walls ... ... ... ... 180 

XXII. Another Change ... ... ... 193 

XXIII. Captain Fitzherbert ... ... ... 204 

XXIV. Rachel on the Watch... ... ... 211 

XXV. Fitzherbert gets into Trouble ... ... 220 

XXVI. The Two Prisoners ... ... ... 210 

XXVII. A Eomantic Episode ... ... ... 240 

XXVIII. In Brittany 266 

XXIX. A Sunbeam m Deepdale ... ... ... 277 



RACHEL DENE, 



CHAPTER I. 

FOUND IN THE SNOW. 

It was Christmas Eve. Two men and a woman 
Bat, snow-surrounded, in the parlour of a small 
cottage in the valley of Deepdale, Yorkshire. One 
man was old, and the woman was his grey, world- 
worn wife; the other man was young, hale, and 
hearty. 

"Here's Jack's health," said the old man, 
Jasper Heywood. 

*' And here's Jack's wife," said Joan. 

"Nay, let us toast them together," interposed 
the young man ; " for sure man and wife are one 
flesh — so here's to 'em both, and God send 'em 
safely home from these cruel wars." 

" Thou mayst well say cruel, Jabez," replied 
Joan. "Ah, if I had my wa3% there'd be no 
fighting men abroad, nor weeping wenches at 
home ! " 

" Stop there, woman," said Jasper. " An there 



2 RACHEL DENE. 

was no fightin' men abroad, what'd become o' the 
weepin' wenches at home ? — what'd become o' ifs, 
and our tight little island, I'd like to know — eh, 
Jabez ? " 

"Well, father, when the world grows older and 
wiser, perhaps folk will find something better to 
do than cut other folk's throats ; but I fear that 
won't be in your time, or mine." 

*' Likely not," was the reply. " Meanwhile, 
since Christmas comes but once a year, let's be 
jolly. Load thy pipe, lad — here's a bit o' rare 
bird's-eye ; and, good wife, mull us another mug 
o' elder, and come round t' fire, for sure it's a 
bitter neet." 

The old man was right. It was a bitter night 
indeed. The wind, however, had dropped, and 
the snow, which had been falling almost incessantly 
for the past twenty-four hours, had almost ceased. 

All was calm now, and still. 

"When Jabez Pryke came down from Deepdale 
Mills the night before, to pass Christmas with his 
adopted father, Jasper Heywood, and his wife 
Joan, the grey goose in the sky was only just 
beginning to shed her feathers ; but now she had 
shed them till the heavens were bare. 

The snowdrift had fallen in the valley breast 
high, and the roads were nigh impassable. 

" Strikes me, Jabez," said Joan, *' thou'lt have 
to stay here for t' next week ; for sure, thou'lt 
never be able to get to t' mills wi'out a snow- 
sledge." 



FOUND IN THE SNOW, 3 

" Well, good mother," answered the young man, 
laughing, " I couldna wish for better company, 
nor a warmer welcome, though for certain I 
promised t' gaffer to dine up at t' Hall to-morrow ; 
and he'll think I'm lost i' t' snow-drift if he doesna 
see me." 

" Come i' t' ingle neuk; draw thysen up t' fire," 
replied Joan. 

The yule log crackled on the hearth, and shed 
a ruddy glow on the cosy cottage and its occupants, 
as they gathered closer to the fire. 

Old friends these — friends of many years' stand- 
ing. Although Jabez Pryke had barely turned 
his five-and-twentieth year, while Jasper and his 
wife were approaching the meridian of life, Jabez 
remembered them as long as he could remember 
anything; for, when left an orphan, they had 
taken him home and brought him up, side by side 
with their own boy, the little fair-haired Jack ; 
and from that time forth the two lads loved one 
another, even as David and Jonathan. 

Once, and only once, an interruption occurred 
to their friendship. Of course it was a woman, 
and the old story. They both loved the same 
woman. But Jael Hoyle loved Jack ; and no 
wonder, for he was a jovial, genial, good-looking, 
good-hearted lad, whom to look at was to love; 
while poor Jabez was gaunt, and gauche, and 
lantern- jawed, and looked twice his years. In 
truth, he had little or nothing about him to 
captivate a woman's eye, nothing but a heart 



4 RACHEL DENE. 

of gold ; but that was out of sight, and counted for 
little in the contest. 

When he saw that the girl he loved loved his 
friend, he gulped down his sorrow and said nothing ; 
nay, more, he was best man at the wedding, and, 
despite the hidden wolf gnawing at his heart, he 
kept a stiff upper lip and a smiling face till the 
hard day's work was done, and he reached his 
little chamber, and was alone with his God and 
his great grief. 

Bride and bridegroom went on a visit to Jack's 
uncle, the dalesman in Cumberland, for their 
humble honeymoon. When they came back, a 
week later, Jabez had left his old home for good 
and all. 

It was a wrench, but the thing had to be done, 
and so the sooner it was done the better. 

The day after the wedding he went up to the 
master of the mills. 

Jacob Dene was a shrewd, observant man ; and 
when Jabez told him that he was bent on going to 
London to seek his fortune, Jacob soon learned the 
secret of his servant, and sympathized with him, 
remembering that he had once been young him- 
self. 

In the end, Jabez did not go to London; he 
stayed at Deepdale, took up his quarters at the 
mills, became a trusted servant and faithful friend. 
Henceforth his lines were cast in pleasant places 
— that is, if any place could be pleasant to him 
without the lass he loved. 



FOUND IN THE SNOW. 5 

All is not gold that glitters, and she had perhaps 
done better had she married him instead of her 
graceless Jack. 

Twelve months after the marriage, Jacob Dene's 
only son came home with his beautiful young wife. 
This gay and gallant youth was a captain in the 
fighting Forty-First. 

He and Jack and Jabez had been playmates. 
It is true he had never cared much for Jabez, but 
Jack and he had played truant together, stolen 
bird's nests, and robbed orchards together in their 
boyhood, and when they met after some years' 
absence they fraternized as of old. Jacob was a 
rich man's son, and Jack was poor ; but they were 
made of the same stuff, and when the one was 
summoned to join his regiment, he had little 
difficulty in inducing the other to take the Queen's 
shilling, and accompany him over the sea. 

They sailed the same day, and at the same 
hour, from Southampton for India, accompanied 
by their young wives. 

That was two years past, and more. 

Those were perilous times. The Oaks and Row- 
land Cottage heard regularly from the dear ones 
until the Mutiny broke out. Then tidings came 
fitfully, or came not at all. 

At last came news which set every English heart 
on fire — news of the well of Cawnpore and the 
siege of Lucknow. 

"It's strange," said Joan, " that we've no news 
of Jack or Jael." 



6 RACHEL DENE. 

" No news is good news, owd lass," cried her 
husband ; "so let us hope that Jack and his wife 
have got clear with a whole skin from those Injun 
cut-throats." 

"Amen! " replied Jabez. 

Then, for a time, they subsided into silence as 
they communed with their own sad thoughts. 
The old dame's heart sank within her when she 
thought that her boy might have fallen into the 
hands of the bloody Nana ; while Jabez conjured 
up in the fire a fair face and a pair of haunting, 
unforgotten eyes — a face which grew clearer and 
more distinct every moment. 

At this very instant, when they heard, or thought 
they heard, nothing but the beating of their own 
hearts, the silence was broken by a low, soft wail 
from without. 

" What's that ? " exclaimed Joan. " Hush ! " 

Again the sound broke on the stillness, this time 
louder than before. 

"The lantern — quick, the lantern ! " cried Jabez. 

Without pausing, he rushed out, followed by 
Jasper and his wife. 

Struggling through the snow, they reached the 
garden gate. 

In front of it, face downwards, lay a woman, 
clad in a large woollen shawl and a dark, travel- 
stained dress ; a kerchief of vivid crimson from 
which her long dark hair had escaped streaming 
in abundance over her shoulders, was bound round 
her head. 



FOUND IN THE SNOW. 7 

Once more arose the soft, tender wail which 
had brought them forth. There was no mistake 
now from whence the sound came. There was 
something beneath the woman's shawl, something 
which breathed and stirred. 

•' A child ! " exclaimed Joan. 

*' The lantern, Jasper — the lantern ! " cried 
Jabez. 

*' Here, lad— here ! " 

Jabez climbed the gate, stooped, and, lifting the 
woman, turned her face to the light. 

" My God ! Jael ! " he gasped. 

" Jael— Jael ! " 

For a moment the two men stood as if they 
were frozen to ice ; then the woman said, or, 
rather, shrieked, "What are you standing there 
for, you ? Standin' like blocks of stone, while my 
boy's wife and her bairn are freezin' to death ! 
Look alive — d'ye hear, d'ye hear? Gi' me t' 
lantern ! Tear t' gate up by t' roots, gin ye canna 
push it back ! " 

Even as she spoke the two men tore the gate 
up, and plucked it forth from the snow, then 
laying the woman and the child upon it, they 
carried them to the cottage. 

"Away wi' ye for five minutes," said Joan; 
** this is a woman's business, not yourn. Stay ! 
Take t' mattress off t' bed, pillows, bolsters, and 
bring 'm here. Now t' sponge — t' panshion 
— mustard — hot water. That'll do; away ye 
go I » 



8 RACHEL DENE. 

When they returned from the kitchen, a quarter 
of an hour later, the child lay croodling on the 
hearth before the fire. The mother, pale and 
helpless, almost speechless, lay beside him. 

" The doctor — send for the doctor, Jabez," cried 
Joan. 

" Nay, mother," gasped Jael. ** I'm past doctor's 
help. I've reached the end of my journey, and 
am grateful to God that He has brought me here 
to die." 

"But you'll no die, hinny; we'll not lot ye die 
— ye'U live, live for Jack's sake." 

" I'm going to join him, mother." 

" What ! my Jack dead ?— dead ! " 

"Yes, mother, I saw him struck down before 
my very eyes at Lucknow, while trying to save 
young Jacob Dene from one of the murdering 
savages. He had only time to say, * Go home, 
take t' bairn to father and mother, and Jabez, 
and tell 'em to love him for poor Jack's sake.' 
And you see," she added faintly, " here I am with 
little Jack." 

After a moment's pause, Jabez inquired tenderly, 
" And Lucy — Lucy Dene ? " 

" The well— the well of Cawnpore ! " gasped the 
dying woman. 

A thrill of horror passed through her listeners, 
and she herself fell back in an agony of past horror 
and present pain. 

" The doctor, the doctor ! " again cried Joan. 

"Never mind t' doctor," moaned the dying 



SAD NEWS TRAVELS FAST. g 

woman. " Kiss mo, mother, father, kiss me. 
Jabez, won't you kiss me, too ? My poor lad 
used to say out yonder, Jabez, that if aught 
happened to him thou'dst be a feyther to little 
Jack." 

She looked for a moment into the face of her 
faithful friend and lover ; then, smiling faintly as 
he bent and touched her forehead with his young 
lips, she sank back and died. 



CHAPTER II. 

BAD NEWS TEAVELS FAST. 

As the distant bells of Deepdale rang in the 
Christmas Day, Jabez Pryke stood up on the snow- 
covered moorland, gazing down the valley towards 
the dark smoke-covered town and high buildings 
of the mills. He was quite alone, and remained 
for a long time like one in a dream. The winter 
morning was still and peaceful, the snow had 
ceased to fall, and the sky was quite light and 
clear. He had wandered thither before daybreak, 
to commune with his own sad thoughts. 

So lonely and so pastoral was the scene, so 
devoid of all signs of life, that the solitary man 
might have been taken for a shepherd on some 
mountain far removed from men. On every side 
stretched the white moorland, rising up behind 



10 RACHEL DENE. 

Lim to hills of grass and heather, and strewn 
everywhere with rocks and boulders glistening 
moistly in the morning sun. To his left, half a 
mile away, flowed the river, thinly sheeted with 
glistening ice, and creeping silently down towards 
the mills, and between him and Dee^Ddale stood the 
cottage which contained the dead form of the only 
being he had ever loved. 

Tall, gaunt, ungainly, with a thin, worn face, 
and sad, weary eyes, he looked much older than 
his years. His shoulders stooped habitually, as 
if under some heavy burthen, and, shepherd-like, 
he leaned upon a thick oaken staff ; indeed, though 
his life was spent in the busy whirl of manufacture, 
he had the brooding, wistful air of men who dwell 
constantly alone. He wore black to-day, an ill- 
fitting suit of broadcloth, and a black slouch hat 
was drawn down upon his brows. 

When his hour of trial came, he had yielded 
up Jael Heywood with scarcely a visible sign of 
pain. It was not in the man's nature to parade 
either his joy or his grief. But he had wandered 
up to the moorland, as to-day, to the very spot 
where he now stood, and had his dark hour alone. 
How well he remembered it all ! It was summer 
then, and the moor was scented and alive ; but his 
heart was not less desolate and cold than on this 
weary wintry day. 

Even in his utter desolation there was a strange 
sense of awe and rapture. She he loved was at 
peace with God ; she was God's only now, and all 



BAD NEWS TRAVELS FAST, ii 

bitterness "was over ; and, crowning grace of all, 
sbe bad died witli bis name upon lier lips, con- 
fiding to bis care ber little belpless cbild. Stand- 
ing tbere alone, and gazing on tbe roof beneatli 
wbicb sbe lay in deatb, Jabez swore tbat be would 
fulfil tbat sacred trust, and be a fatber to tbe little 
Jack. 

At last, slowly and sadly, be turned bis steps 
towards Deepdale, toiling tbrougb tbe snow, and 
following tbe windings of tbe frozen river. Turn- 
ing aside before be readied tbe outskirts of tbe 
little town, wbere Heywood's cottage stood, be 
followed tbe road eastward till be came in sigbt of 
tbe old cburcb. He drew near tbe cburcbyard 
gate, and looked over upon God's acre, wbere bis 
beloved Jael was soon to lie. As be paused tbus a 
band was laid upon bis sboulder, and a cbeery 
voice greeted bim by name. 

Turning, be saw tbe very man be was going to 
seek — Jobn Lyster, tbe vicar of Deepdale. 

" A merry Cbristmas, Jabez ! Counting tbe 
tombstones, eb ? A cbeerless occupation, surely, 
for Cbristmas morning." Tben, startled by tbe 
expression on tbe young man's face, tbe vicar added, 
•' Is anytbing tbe matter ? " 

" I bave bad news, sir," replied Jabez, gentlj'. 
" Jael Hey wood — our Jael, young Jack Heywood's 
wife — came back last nigbt from India." 

" Impossible ! Came back, do you say ? " 

"Ay, sir; came back — to die. We found ber 
fainting in t' snow, wi' ber little bairn, and — and — 



12 RACHEL DENE. 

she's lying yonder in lier father's cottage, waiting 
till they carry her to her last home." 

Despite his habitual self-control, the man's voice 
was broken with sobs, and, leaning his head upon 
the gate, he moaned as if in mortal pain. 

" Bad news, indeed ! " cried Mr. Lyster. " Poor 
Jael ! she was a pretty lass ! And that bright 
fellow, her husband — he " 

As he spoke, Jabez lifted his head and looked 
full into his face, with a gaze so wild, so woebegone, 
that he knew at once that there was more to come. 
Then, in a few words, Jabez told him all the terrible 
tale which Jael had told with her dying lips, of 
the murderous work far away, of carnage, of horror, 
and the hideous well of Cawnpore. 

" My child ! — my little Lucy ! " cried the vicar, 
hiding his face in his hands, and sobbing like a 
child. 

It was his turn now to suffer, and, after a few 
more piteous words, he passed through the church- 
yard gate, and entered the church, to pass Ms dark 
hour there. 

Sick at heart, Jabez Pryke walked on. His work 
was not yet done. He had to carry the sad news 
onward, and, though his heart sank within him, he 
would trust the task to no other man. 

Following the road, he made the best of his way 
to the house of his master and employer, Jacob 
Dene, owner of the great Deepdale Mills. The 
Oaks, as it was called, was situated half a mile 
from the church and Vicarage, on an eminence juet 



BAD NEWS TRAVELS FAST. 13 

beyond the outskirts of the little town. It was a 
new mansion, and took its name from the young 
trees which had been planted in front of its 
spacious garden. 

Eeaching the iron gate, ho passed up a winding 
carriage path, and stood on the broad stone steps 
of the house — a plain, but spacious building, of no 
pretensions to architectural beauty. With a deep 
sigh, he rang the bell. A plainly dressed serving 
woman opened the door. 

" Is t' master in ? " he asked. 

" Yes, Mr. Pryke." 

** And t' mistress ? " he added, thinking with a 
tremor of the tale he had to tell. 

**Nay; mistress has just stepped out to see a 
sick lass i' the town." 

Jabez stepped into the hall, and stood there 
bareheaded. 

" Tell t' master I wish to see him." 

The woman disappeared, and returning almost 
immediately, ushered Jabez into a large, plainly 
furnished study at the rear of the mansion, where 
a tall man in the prime of life sat reading ; a man 
with a square determined face and keen black eyes, 
but with lines of gentleness around his mouth. 
He looked up and nodded as the young man 
entered. 

"Well, Jabez, what brings thee here on Christ- 
mas morning ? " 

** Bad news, sir," was the reply. 

•* Nothing wrong at the works, my lad ? " 



14 RACHEL DENE, 

''Nay, sir; worse than that. It's bad news 
from far away — something that concerns your son." 

Jacob Dene rose to his feet, and saw, as the vicar 
had done, the shadow of the coming sorrow on the 
man's grief-stricken face. 

" Speak out, man ! What is it ? No harm has 
come to him ? He is not — dead ? " 

Jacob did not reply in words, but the look in his 
eyes was enough, and Jacob Dene staggered as if 
before a blow. Then the story was told, as before. 
Silently, without tears, but pale as death, Jacob 
Dene listened ; then, turning away his face, and 
gazing out through the window of the room, he 
motioned Jabez to leave him alone. 

To understand the position of affairs, especially 
as it concerned the present head of the great 
Deepdale Mills, it will be necessary to go back a 
little. 

The Denes had been settled at Deepdale since 
Jacob, first of that name, came back from America 
with William Penn, after having helped that astute 
man to found Pennsylvania. 

Jacob Dene the first had been attracted to the 
beautiful Yorkshire valley by the bright eyes of 
Eachel Hunsden, a beautiful Yorkshire girl. 
When he married her, he settled down in the 
valley, and there the Denes had stayed from that 
day to this. Like the friend of the founder of the 
family, they had all been born and bred Quakers. 
Up to a hundred years ago they had all been 



BAD NEWS TRAVELS FAST. 15 

farmers, but the Jacob (for the first-born lad was 
always a Jacob, as the first-born lass was always a 
Eachel) of that day became acquainted with 
Eichard Arkwright, took up his famous invention, 
and went into the spinning business ; and so from 
email beginnings were developed the great Deepdale 
Mills, and Dene, alpaca, subluna, and vecuna 
manufacturers, who traded all over the world. 
They employed several thousand hands, and the 
Deepdale Mills were the pride of all Yorkshire. 

Every modern appliance and improvement had 
been brought to bear upon the manufactory for the 
good of employer and employed; while the little 
town itself, its church, its schools, its baths, its 
gardens, its college and park, were the envy and 
admiration of the country, and all broad England 
besides. 

Jacob Dene, the present master of the mills, was 
an austere man ; but he was a large-hearted and 
liberal, and, in many respects, a modern idea'd 
man — possibly a little too modern idea'd — for he 
loathed the profession of arms as much as he 
detested capital punishment. Except hanging a 
man, he maintained that the worst use to which a 
man could be put was the occupation of cutting 
throats for hire. He was not one of those men 
who confine their interest in a subject to a merely 
theoretical view of it ; hence, upon a certain 
memorable occasion, he formed one of a deputa- 
tion who travelled to St. Petersburg to wait upon 
the Tsar for the purpose of beseeching the Autocrat 



i6 RACHEL DENE. 

of the North to refer some impending war to 
arbitration. As everybody knows, the Quaker and 
his fi'iends had their journey for nothing ; still, 
they had done their best, and no one can do better 
than that. 

These being Jacob's views, it may readily be 
conceived that he was distressed beyond measure 
when his only son and heir, young Jacob Dene, in 
direct defiance of the family traditions, became a 
soldier. Nor were matters much mended when 
he espoused Lucy Lyster, the vicar's pretty but 
penniless daughter. 

True, poor Lucy was as good as she was beauti- 
ful ; but the Denes had always married money and 
land, and when there was neither one nor the 
other, it widened the breach. And so, when they 
parted, and the last " good-bye " was said, although 
there was no bad blood 'twixt son and sire, there 
was some coldness between them, and more between 
Jacob Dene and the vicar of Deepdale. 

The truth was, Jacob thought that the vicar had 
been too facile and compliant a father, and that, 
in point of fact, he had planted his penniless 
daughter upon the wealthy heir of the Deepdale 
Mills. Never was there a graver mistake, or a 
greater injustice. The young couple loved each 
other, and all the fathers and mothers in the 
world would have been powerless to have kept 
them apart. 

As the reader already knows, when Captain 
Dene went out to India with his young wife, Jasper 



SAD NEWS TRAVELS FAST. iy 

Heywood's son Jack and his wife Jael sailed with 
them. 

It was a heavy day at Deepdale when these 
young people left their native valley. Jacob Dene 
seemed hard and self-contained, and bade them a 
cold good-bye ; but many days elapsed before he 
returned to himself. When the poor mother loses 
her only son, the blow falls as heavily in the palace 
as the cottage, and Susanna Dene bewailed her 
boy as much as Joan Hey wood bewept hers. 

Jabez Pryke, who suffered most of all, kept his 
sorrow to himself. He and the vicar accompanied 
the young people to Southampton to see the last 
of them ; and from that time forth the lonely man 
and the lonely parson (for Mr. Lyster was a 
widower) were firm friends. The latter had in- 
stinctively divined Jabez's secret, and sympathized 
with his grief and self-abnegation. 

Jabez Pryke left the master of the mills to brood 
over the terrible story which Jael Heywood had 
brought from Lucknow. The master of the mills 
remained for a long time silent, as a man trans- 
fixed to stone. Two hours later, however, he went 
down to the Vicarage. Extending his hand to his 
quondam enemy, he said — 

" Friend, thou hast heard." 

" The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away, 
blessed be the name of the Lord," replied the vicar. 

"I have tried to school myself to say so," 
returned the millionaire, **but I cannot as yet; 





i8 RACHEL DENE. 

my heart was ever rebellious. It runs in the blood 
of the Denes. Well, I am justly punished. We are 
two childless old men ; those whom we loved have 
been taken from us, and have left no sign that they 
ever lived. It is hard to bear. Let us not make it 
harder still by enmity. Canst thou forgive me ? " 
The vicar grasped his hand in silence, and no 
more was said ; but from that time forth all was 
forgotten and forgiven. 

When it was known at church time that little 
Jack and his mother had been found in the snow 
over night, outside Heywood's cottage, the whole 
valley was alive. Foremost among the visitors to 
the chamber of death were the vicar, Jacob Dene, 
and Susanna his wife. Over that scene of common 
suffering we will draw a veil. 

Every one wondered how poor Jael had ever 
reached Deepdale. Subsequent inquiries served to 
Bhow that the Government had provided for her 
passage to England, and that, on her arrival, 
although enfeebled by disease and privation, she 
persisted in pressing onwards to her native valley ; 
that when she arrived at Barford, unable to obtain 
a conveyance, she started forth to walk, was over- 
taken by the snowstorm, and fell death-stricken on 
the very threshold of her own old home. 

As Jacob Dene gazed on the infant boy, who, all 
unmindful of his loss, lay crowing in his grandam's 
arms, he thought that he would have given all the 
wealth of Deepdale to have had a flower like that 
blossoming in his childless home. 



( ^9 ) 



CIIAPTEE III. 

LITTLE EACHEL. 

Time speedily confirmecl the doleful tidings brought 
by Jael Heywood to Deepdale that memorablo 
winter night. Full details arrived ere long, and 
there could no longer be any doubt that young 
Captain Dene had fallen at the moment of the 
relief of Lucknow, and Lucy his wife was among 
the victims at Cawnpore. As they read the horrible 
record, both Jacob Dene and John Lyster forgot 
their gentle creed ; the one remembered no longer 
that he was a clergyman, the other that he was a 
Quaker. They felt only, in that supreme hour of 
sorrow, that they were fathers and Englishmen. 

Their hands clenched, their eyes flashing fire, 
they stood together outside the churchyard, where 
poor Jael was now peacefully asleep. 

The vicar exclaimed, " These things must not 
be thought of, but they make men mad ! " 

"Not thought of?" echoed the master of the 
mills. "Not thought of? I can think of naught 
but thy poor child, my boy's wife. Had I been 
there ! had I been there ! " 

" Had we both been there ! " 

Then the clergyman said something very un- 
canonical, and parson and Quaker, after wringing 
each other's hands, strode off in opposite direc- 
tions to walk their agony away. Women, however, 



20 RACHEL DENE. 

cannot relieve their pent-up sorrows in the manner 
of strong men ; they can only suffer and endure. 
In silence and alone, the poor bereaved mother, 
Susanna Dene, mourned the loved ones whose loss 
had made her home so desolate ! 

In that terrible hour of England's ghastly vic- 
tory, when horror was piled on horror, and every 
day brought fresh news of victory blended with 
calamity, the cries of grief and agony were echoed 
in a thousand English homes. The nation, like 
Christian in the fable, was passing through the 
very Valley of the Shadow of Death. Little wonder, 
indeed, that men forget their magnanimity, and 
women their faith in God, before the spectacle of 
such tribulation. Justice was shaken on her 
throne; Mercy, like an avenging angel, changed 
her nature and waved the bloody dagger of re- 
venge, and wherever the English tongue was 
spoken rose one common shriek demanding 
retribution. 

Nature, ever heedless of the fitful and unreason- 
ing strife of man, continued her secret ministra- 
tions, and drew over the graves of many dead her 
coverlet of grass and flowers. The winter had 
passed away, and spring blew her windy clarion 
on the hills. Where snow had lain on the broad 
upland moors, the thyme and heather waved, and 
the air hummed with sounds of joyful life. 

One Saturday afternoon in early summer, Jabez, 
the overseer, left the mills, and, going along with 
the stream of men and women homeward bound, 



LITTLE RACHEL. 2i 

made his way to the cliurcliyarcl, to gaze, as was 
his constant custom, on the grave of poor Jacl. 
Work was over for the day, and the folk were 
swarming like bees out of a hive. Elderly men 
gathered in groups, lads went along arm in arm, 
lasses laughed and flirted with their sweethearts, 
and above the hum of stronger voices rose the clear 
cries of children. Jabez heard nothing, heeded 
no one ; his thoughts were far away. Leaving 
the throng behind him, he strolled into the 
churchyard. 

He knew the grave among all the rest. It lay 
in the sunny corner of the churchyard, and early 
spring flowers, crocus and anemone, had already 
been placed there by his hands. He stood for a 
long time looking down upon it, and thinking of 
the fragile form that slept below. At last, passing 
his hand across his dim eyes, he loft the grave, and 
regained the open road. 

Again he followed the road up towards the moor, 
and, after half an hour's walk, stood among the 
upland grass and heather and looked back at 
Deepdale. Sad and grief-worn as he was, his spirit 
was now quite at peace. Fresh from the stress 
of work and life, he enjoyed his own loneliness and 
that of the beautiful scene surrounding him. 

Many a time, he remembered, he had wandered 
hither with Jael, he a tall, ungainly lad, she a 
bright, laughing girl. Both were too young to 
think of love, but he, the elder, felt something 
Btirring in his heart which was to ripen in time to 



22 RACHEL DENE. 

tender passion. He had followed his little play- 
mate like her shadow, he had obeyed like a slave 
the slightest waving of her hand ; and then — and 
then, afterwards, had come the knowledge that it 
was all hopeless, and that the light in her young 
eyes, the love in her young heart, was not for Mm ! 
Well, it was all over; and his love still lived, 
though Jael was dead. He would not have had it 
otherwise. He felt, that still spring morning, that 
were his life to be lived again, he would not change 
it. She had trusted him even unto death. She 
had left him her last blessing, and the care of 
her little child. 

As he turned to stroll homeward he heard the 
sound of carriage wheels, and looking backward he 
saw an open waggonette coming slowly along the 
road which winds from distant Barford across 
the moor. In Deepdale every one knew his neigh- 
bour, and Jabez saw at a glance that the occupants 
of the vehicle were strangers. Behind the driver 
sat a lady of middle age, with a face worn but 
beautiful, and by her side, looking eagerly out at 
the prospect, stood a little dark-haired boy of three 
or four. Opposite to her sat a black woman, clad 
in the familiar costume of an Indian ayah, and 
holding in her arms an infant child. 

As Jabez stood on the roadside, the carriage 
approached nearer. The sight of the Indian 
woman sent the thought at once to India, and 
called up the picture of wild scenes and terrible 
events. 



LITTLE RACHEL, 23 

"Who can they be ?" thought Jabez ; when, at 
a word from the lady, the waggonette drew up, and 
a clear, musical voice said — 

" Do you belong to Deepdale ? " 

Jabez looked up, met the lady's gaze, and 
touched his hat respectfully. 

"Yes, my lady. I work in 't mill. I'm overseer 
to Mr. Dene." 

The lady stood up in the carriage, shading her 
eyes, and gazing towards the little town ; then, 
glancing down again, she continued — 

"I am going there — to the Vicarage. Can you 
direct me to it ? " 

" Nay, you can't miss it," replied Jabez. 
"Follow t' road, and keep straight on past t' 
church, and you'll see t' house before ye." He 
added quickly, before she could sign to the driver 
to go on, " Maybe you come from India ? " 

" Yes," replied the lady, with some surprise. 

" I thought so," said the overseer, glancing at 
the Indian nurse. "Maybe, too, my lady, you 
knew t' young captain. Master Dene's son?" 

" I knew him well," replied the lady. " He was 
an officer in my husband's regiment, and he fell 
at Lucknow during the siege. He died side by 
side with my husband. Colonel Hollis, of the Forty- 
First." 

"And his wife, my lady — his poor wife — be it 
true, as we ha' heard, that she be dead too ? " 

Mrs. Hollis looked in surprise at the rough fellow 
in his working clothes, who, as he spoke, stretched 



24 RACHEL DENE. 

out his bands in agitation, and trembled witb 
sympatby. 

" It is quite true," sbe answered sadly. " That 
is wby I bave come bere. I am bringing bome ber 
cbild." 

As sbe glanced at tbe infant in tbe ayab's arms, 
Jabez climbed up on tbe step bebind tbe vebicle, 
and followed tbe direction of ber eyes. Tbe 
cbild, a beautiful infant of only a few montbs 
old, was sleeping peacefully in its nurse's lap. 

" Did you know Captain Dene ? " asked Mrs. 
Hollis, gently. 

" Ay, my lady, I knew bim well ; and bis wife, 
too, poor lass, poor lass! And tbis be tbeir bairn? 
Wonderful — wonderful ! Brougbt bome like t' 
baby boy, tbe cbild o' our poor Jael." 

Tbe lady noticed witb surprise tbat bis eyes, 
full of tears, looked witb infinite regret and tender- 
ness upon tbe infant, wbile bis lips murmured 
Bometbing tbat sounded like a blessing. Tbe 
next moment be leapt down, and stood barebeaded 
in tbe road, watcbing tbe waggonette as it drove 
on. Tbe lady looked back and nodded. Jabez 
waved bis band. Tbe little boy, leaning over 
tbe back of tbe carriage, watcbed bim and 
laugbed. 

" Wonderful ! wonderful ! " muttered tbe over- * 
seer to bimself, as be followed tbem down tbe 
road. " Two bairns come bome out o' t' cruel 
war — Captain's little daughter, and Jael's little 
Jack. Minds me o' t' flowers new-blowing on t' 



LITTLE RACHEL. 2$ 

poor lass's grave i' the cliurcbyard ! Well, ^vcll, 
out o' death comes life, as parson says." 

Before Jabez Pryke could carry his news home 
to the Heywoods, Mrs. Hollis had reached the 
Vicarage and had told her story to Mr. Lyster. 
She was the widow, as the reader has already 
heard, of Colonel Hollis, the commanding officer 
of the fighting Forty-First. The boy who accom- 
panied her was her only son. The baby girl, 
already christened Eachel, was the child of Captain 
Jacob Dene, and Lucy Lyster his wife, brought 
back to England in accordance with a sacred 
pledge given to the poor mother before she died. 
That fragile snowdrop was all that remained to 
attest that the young soldier and his wife had ever 
been. 

While the vicar, divided between joy and sorrow, 
held his little grandchild in his arms, Jabez Pryke, 
half a mile away, was bending over little Jack, and 
Jasper and Joan Heywood looked on in wonder 
and delight. Before the life that comes, the life 
that is buried becomes forgotten, and all they saw 
now was the light in the eyes of the boy poor Jael 
had left behind. 

*' Mother, look ! " cried Jabez, holding out his 
forefinger to the crowing boy. ** Isna t' bairn t' 
living image o' poor Jael ? God bless him and gie 
him good luck for her sake ! " 

" Amen to that, Jabez," responded Joan. " And 
t' little one you saw up yonder — poor Miss Lucy's 
lass — does she favour her mother, too ? " 



26 RACHEL DENE. 

" Nay, mother, I knew not. She were just like 
a white snowdrop blooming on t' black wench's 
heart. I had naut but a glimpse, but she seemed 
as pretty as God makes little childer." 

There was a long pause ; then Joan said, with 
a look of tender inspiration, "Little lass and little 
lad! Suppose t' Lord, by-and-by, should bring 
they two together ! " 

Jasper Heywood, seated in his armchair, and 
lighting his pipe, looked up and grinned. 

"There thou art, mother! At it again, like all 
t' women ! They'd ha' marrying and wedding 
among bairns i' the cradle, if they had their foolish 
way, wouldn't they, Jabez ? Why, woman alive, 
little lass, yonder, will grow up a proud lady, 
while little Jack here will ha' to work wi' his hands 
like you and me." 

Jabez answered, still looking gently at the child, 
* Maybo, maybe ! " But, God willing, and you 
two helping, t' little man shall ha' learning, and 
maybe he'll grow up a gentleman, after all." 

Before many hours had passed the news had 
spread all over the place, and formed the only 
theme of that Saturday half-holiday. It was 
discussed at every fireside, and many another 
single woman, as if to illustrate Jasper Heywood's 
estimate of the sex, uttered some such prophesy, 
or forethought, as that expressed by Joan. 

Meantime, in the natural course of things, word 
of Mrs. Hollis's arrival had been passed from the 
Yicarage up to the Oaks. First to hear it, in her 

\ 
I' 



LITTLE RACHEL. 27 

husband's absence, was Susannah Dene. Her 
carriage was at the door, and away she drove at 
once till she reached the Vicarage ; then, leaving 
her years behind her, she sprang out, and rushing 
into the house, descended with tears and cries, 
and inarticulate expressions of delight, upon her 
grandchild. 

She introduced herself, sans ceremonie, to Mrs. 
Hollis — made love to little Ealph, and friends even 
with the aj^ah. 

Then nothing would do but the vicar, Mrs. 
Hollis, the boy, the ayah, and the baby must come 
at once to the Oaks, where Jacob Dene was now 
to be found. 

At sight of his son's child the stern man burst 
into tears. When at length an eventful evening 
came to an end, the vicar could not find it in his 
heart to deprive Mrs. Dene of the child, who took 
up her abode henceforth at the Oaks, to become 
the heiress of the Denes. 

Although the scion of a noble house, Mrs. HolKs 
was a lonely woman, for her brother-in-law, the 
Earl of Beauchamp, had been very much opposed 
to her marriage with his brother Ealph. She, 
therefore, wisely accepted an offer to keep house 
thenceforth for the vicar, which was a sensible 
arrangement for everybody concerned, inasmuch 
as she contributed three hundred pounds a year 
towards Mr. Lyster's slender income, and found a 
home for herself and her fatherless boy. 

The weft of life is ever woven with the warp of 



28 RACHEL DENE. 

sorrow; the one serves to accentuate the other 
with a keener pleasure, or a deeper pain. Thence 
there was joy in Deepdale that the poor siege- 
children lived, and sorrow that their parents had 
died ; but the joy abided, and the sorrow in time 
was forgotten by all, save the one faithful heart 
which bewailed now, as it would bewail for ever, 
the lost love of his youth. 

But, although he sorrowed, Jabez, the overseer, 
did not sorrow without hope. He had now some- 
thing to live for — Jack's child henceforth the child 
of his adoption. 

As for the Denes and the vicar, their dead 
children lived again in the little Eachel. 



CHAPTEE IV. 

TWO LADS AND A LASS. 

Do you know Deepdale ? Do you know the 
splendid Yorkshire valley, surrounded on every 
side by green or heathery hills, watered by a rapid 
river, and bearing in its bosom the cleanest and 
happiest of little manufacturing towns? If you 
have ever passed that way, down the open moor- 
land, into the clean, carefully-kept streets, past 
the great many-windowed, many-chimneyed mills, 
among the cottages and well-tended gardens, from 
the church to the Vicarage, from the Vicarage to 



TIVO LADS AND A LASS. a^ 

the fine home of the mills' master, you will under- 
staDd how Eachel Dene, as she grew up, learned 
to love the place and its people, and to think there 
was no such pleasant home in all the world. 

It was the boast of Jacob Dene that his con- 
nection with the place and people was quite 
patriarchal. He had made it, and kept it, what 
it was, a model for the world. The thriftless, the 
idle, the vicious, and the depraved drifted away 
from Deepdale like scum from the lips of a summer 
sea; they were out of place there, and found no 
congenial associations. Industry, cleanliness, and 
sobriety were the order of the day. The old 
Quaker saw to it all. He would have no vagabonds 
among his people. He was kind and liberal to 
those who set a good example, but stern to the 
undeserving. 

Through the centre of this Arcadian valley, up 
through the waving moorland, Eachel Dene rode 
one summer day, in company with Ralph Hollis — 
she upon a high-mettled and slender little cob, ho 
upon an almost thoroughbred mare. They had 
been cantering and trotting along for a couple of 
hours, full of high spirits, health, and youth ; for 
Eachel was now nineteen, and Ealph only a few 
years older. 

They were following a bridle-path along the 
river-side, and walking their horses, whilst they 
kept up an animated conversation. 

"How pretty it looks!" cried the girl, gazing 
from her saddle on the sunny scene around her. 



30 RACHEL DENE. 

"I think there is no place in the world half so 
beautiful." 

"A pity, is it not," returned Ealph, "that it is 
disfigured by the smoke and dirt of the dingy mills ? 
I hate manufactures and manufacturing places." 

"Nay, there thou art wrong," said Eachel, in 
the quaint Quaker phraseology she had learnt from 
her grandfather, and which so well became her 
pretty lips. " I love the mills and the town best 
of all. Think how many mouths the mills feed, 
how many happy homes they make ! They're like 
a kind, hard-working mother to us all ! " 

The young man laughed somewhat con- 
temptuously. 

"I don't understand that kind of sentiment. 
The place, as such places go, is well enough, no 
doubt ; but I confess I love more gaiety and more 
life. Deepdale is so dismal and so dull. Even 
on Sundays the people look begrimed as troglodytes 
living in the bowels of the earth, and the women 
work so hard it makes them ill-favoured." 

Eachel laughed and shook her head. 

"There we diifer again," she answered. "I 
often think — 'tis foolish, but very true — that if I 
hadn't been my father's daughter, I would have 
loved to toil hard, and be one of the peoi^le." 

"A worker in the mills ! Fancy you dressed in 
homespun like a mill-girl! Fancy you being 
courted like a mill-girl by some fellow with coarse 
bands and coarser speech ! " 

Eachel flushed, and cried, "I was not talking 



TJVO LADS AND A LASS. 31 

of courtship, sir ! But I would not care for a 
man's bands if his heart were clean ! " 

As she spoke she started, and flushed a deeper 
red. Approaching her along the river-side was a 
figure she knew well, that of a lad of about her 
own age, clad in a rough working suit, and carr}'- 
ing a fishing-rod and a small creel. 

** 'Tis Jack Heywood ! " she exclaimed. 

" So it is," answered Ealph, with the slightest 
shade of a frown. " Shirking his work, and 
angling — profitable occupation ! " 

Eachel beckoned, and Jack came up smiling. 
He was a fresh, hearty-looking lad, strong and 
erect, with a look of self-reliance. He lifted his 
hat to the riders, and stood looking eagerly at 
Eachel. 

" I have got an afternoon's holiday," he said, 
** and am trying my luck with the fly ; but the sun 
is too bright for angling." 

** Are you all well at home ? " 

" Yes, Miss Rachel." 

*' I must come over soon, and see thy grand- 
mother. Thou knowest. Jack, thou and I ar^j 
almost like brother and sister — the two siege- 
bairns, as the people call us, for the same trouble 
left us both in the world alone." 

" Shall we get on ? " said Ealph, impatiently. 
*' Isly mare is restless." 

Eachel nodded, and, with a light look and nod at 
Jack, rode on with her companion. Scarcely had 
they ridden out of earshot when Ealph, bending 



32 RACHEL DENE. 

towards her, said, with a short laugh, "There's 
one of your hard-handed ones. Do you not thank 
your good fortune that you are so different ? " 

*' Nay, indeed," answered Eachel, with a look of 
surprise. " My grandfather tells me that Jack is 
the cleverest boy in Deepdale ! " 

"Jack! That's familiar." 

*' And why not ? I almost feel as if he were my 
brother. We are both motherless and fatherless, 
and our lots are so much alike." 

" I hope they are very different." 

'* And we were friends when children. Thou, 
too, wast his friend. Thou hast a right to like 
him." 

*' So I do, in his way ; but his way is not mine, 
Eachel. Look at the mare, how she pricks her 
ears ; she thinks I am speaking of her. Come, 
shall we cross the moor, and gallop ? " 

Eachel nodded, and leaving the roadside, they 
came to a stretch of grass and heather, and 
hastened along side by side. 

The years had come and gone, until some nine- 
teen had passed away. Eachel had entwined 
herself round the hearts of the mill-owner and his 
wife until she had become the light and life of 
their desolate home. Nor was she less dear to the 
old vicar — for she reminded him of the wife and 
of the daughter he had lost. The same doves' 
eyes, the same sunny hair, the same fairy-like 
elastic figure, the same laugh, the very voice — 
came back again. 



T^VO LADS AND A LASS. 33 

Ealpli HoUis had grown into a strikingly hand- 
some young man, of bright but unstable parts, and 
petulant temper. He was an apt pupil when the 
mood took him — but he was wayward and fractious 
— and somewhat trying to his over-indulgent tutor 
and his doting mother. This lad might be led, but 
never driven. Of all his circle of acquaintances, 
the one who could lead him the easiest was Eaehel 
Dene, who reigned over him, even as she reigned 
at the Oaks, with autocratic, but benevolent sway. 

As the years grew with her growth — the two 
old men — her father's father and the father of her 
mother — loved the girl more and more — while in 
her young and innocent delight, the poor mother's 
youth lived again. At first, indeed, they had 
loved the child because she reminded them of the 
loved and lost. As the years progressed, they 
loved her for herself — not because she was by any 
means a paragon, but simply because she was true, 
and simple, and honest, and because she loved 
them deeply in return. 

She was not a young person of advanced culture 
or remarkable beauty. Her accomplishments were 
of quite an ordinary character ; but, take her all 
in all, she was adorable, as only a pretty Quakeress 
can be. Her fiigure was slender, straight, and 
well balanced, giving indications that at its 
maturity it would leave little to be desired in the 
way of symmetry. Her complexion was pale, but 
transparent as alabaster ; and when her heart 
or emotions were touched, her cheeks flushed a 

D 



34 RACHEL DENE. 

pearl-like pink, wliicli quickened into loveliness. 
Her head was crowned with a wreath of hair which 
Bhimmered from lightest brown into ripest gold; 
square brow, dark eyebrows, and dark lashes ; 
eyes grey ; short, straight nose, with the slightest 
suspicion of a tip-tilt at the end ; ripe rosy lips, 
and a firm set chin, which seemed to indicate that, 
should the emergency arise, she miglit have a will 
of her own. 

The emergency had not arisen as yet. 

She it was who wrote the paternal grandpa's 
letters — wrote them, too, in a good, round, read- 
able hand, none of your feeble Italian scrawls. 
She it was who took grandma's tea up every 
morning, and relieved her of the cares of house- 
keeping ; who visited the sick, and relieved the 
needy of the valley ; assisted the maternal grandpa 
at Sunday school and Dorcas Society; and who, 
in point of fact, played Lady Bountiful Junior in 
Deepdale. 

Not that her life was monopolized by these duties, 
for she had a notion that life was pleasant, and 
that the world was beautiful, and she enjoyed the 
spring-time of both. She it was who induced the 
old people to open their doors, and their hearts, 
to their friends ; and it was astonishing how much 
pleasanter the Denes found it than shutting them- 
selves up in their former insular exclusiveness. 

As for Ealph Hollis, the master of the mills felt 
bound to do something for the lad, if only because 
his mother had brought, almost out of the jaws of 



nVO LADS AND A LASS. 35 

death, the angel who made Jacob's home happy. 
Mrs. HolHs wanted to send the boy for a term or 
two to Oxford, but considerations of expense inter- 
vened. Jacob had had enough of Oxford ; he had 
sent his own boy there, with the result already 
described. No; he would put Ealph into the 
counting-house. ' 

" The rest," he said, *' would depend on himself." 

" The rest " is a vague phrase, which might 
mean anything or nothing. It might, however, 
mean a partnership in the firm. Perchance — who 
knew ? — a marriage with the heiress of Deepdale ! 

In the end, the mother concluded to let Ealph 
go to the counting-house, not, it is feared, to that 
young gentleman's delight, nor very much, in the 
long run, to Jacob Dene's satisfaction. 

Jack Heywood was a horse of another colour, 
both figuratively and literally. Ealph was dark, 
and somewhat saturnine ; Jack was fair and frank, 
with sunny hair and laughing eyes, eyes of English 
blue. Ealph was slender, elegant, and taU ; Jack 
was equally tall, but he was stalwart, and, for his 
age, was the best swimmer, oarsman, rider, leaper, 
runner, cricket-player, boxer, and wrestler in the 
valley of Deepdale or the West Eiding. Ealph 
was indolent ; Jack was industrious. Ealph was a 
great smoker, and fond, already too fond, of his 
wine ; Jack detested the smell of tobacco, and did 
not care for wine. Ealph, like Eob Eoy, despised 
" weavers, and spinners, and a' sic mechanical 
persons." Jack was a born inventor, and proud 



36 RACHEL DENE. 

of his craft. Ealph disliked books ; Jack liked 
them. He had learnt all that Jabez could teach 
him of mechanics, and had now left his master 
behind. Not that he was a book-worm — not the 
least little bit. 

Having enumerated their points of divergence, 
it is satisfactory to note one or two points on 
which these lads agreed. They both had a passion 
for horses — all Yorkshiremen have. Ealph had a 
horse of his own, or, rather, a mare, which he 
called after Eachel; and a beauty she was, as 
indeed she ought to be, considering the price she 
cost Mrs. Hollis. Jack had picked up a rough- 
looking cob at Wakefield horse fair for five or six 
pounds, and had groomed him to such perfection, 
that Jabez, as he called him, ran Eachel very hard 
whenever he got the chance. Finally, both lads 
were unanimous in their admiration for Eachel 
Dene. 

Mrs. Hollis had but one object in life — to seo 
her son happy, beloved, admired. To her, he was 
everything. In him her dead husband, the lover 
of her youth, lived again. A mother's love blinded 
her to his faults, and, as we have hinted, they 
were many. 

To be just to the lad, he was devoted to her 
beyond all things, but he was wrong-headed and 
strong-headed. Moreover, he was a little im- 
patient at his lot in life. He thought it hard that 
he, the heir-apparent to an earldom — for his uncle 
Algernon; though on the shady side of sixty, was 



TIVO LADS AND A LASS. 37 

still a bachelor — should be condemned to a seat in 
the counting-house, instead of one in the House of 
Lords. The thought of Eachel, however, curbed 
his impatience, and he did his best to fulfil his 
duties, though it must be admitted that bad was 
his best. 

There was another mother who also kept watch 
and ward over her boy. I have said " another 
mother " advisedly, for as Jack approached man- 
hood Joan saw in him the image of her dead son ; 
and as he grew day by day more like her first-born, 
he found in her all a mother's care, she in him a 
son's devotion. 

He had his way in everything, however. He 
was just as honest, tender, and true, and just as 
petulant and as pugnacious as his father had been 
before him. Jasper Heywood, too, was as proud 
of the lad as he had been of his own son Jack. As 
for Jabez, we have already referred to the pure, 
unselfish devotion of this single-minded, simj^le 
fellow for his dead sweetheart's son. 

Meanwhile, while Ealph smoked, drank, and 
idled. Jack worked and learnt. At fourteen he was 
put on to assist his grandfather in looking after 
the machinery at the mills ; for Jasper was a 
practical engineer, and foreman in his depart- 
ment. 

Now, Jack had a positive genius for mechanics 
of every description. In twelve months' time there 
was not a bolt, a bar, a pin, a spring, a strap, that 
he had not mastered the mystery of ; while as for 



38 RACHEL DENE. 

steam-power, hydraulics, electricity, and cliemistry, 
he had them at his fingers' ends. 

From childhood he had been a visitor at the 
great house. He and Eachel and Ealph had 
played together as if they had been brothers and 
sister — that is to say, up to a certain period. At 
last " the pale spectrum of the salt " began to cast 
a shadow between them. Ealph was a born gentle- 
man, the son of a distinguished officer ; Eachel was 
born a lady, daughter of a man of fortune; she 
was, moreover, an heiress. Jack was the son of 
a private soldier ; moreover, he was a mechanic, a 
man doomed to live by the sweat of his brow and 
the work of his hands. So, for that matter, he 
reflected sometimes, was Eichard Arkwright, and 
so was Eobert Stephenson. 

Jabez was wont to say, "Dreams, my lad — 
idle dreams." 

" Let me dream while I may, Jabez," the lad 
replied. '* Perhaps I shall wake "^ome day and 
find myself famous, and then you'll be proud of 
your pupil." 

" I shall always be proud of him. Jack, and 
when you are a great man you'll still find a corner 
in your heart for the old folk and Jabez ? " 

"Always, Jabez," cried the boy, with his 
mother's eyes. 

Left alone on the roadside, young Heywood 
Btood watching the form of Eachel until it disap- 
peared. Then he threw down his fishing-rod and 



A GAME AT LAWN-TENNIS. 39 

sat down in a brown study, looking at the stream. 
No more fishing for liim that day. He was him- 
self in too deep water. 

Though only a lad of nineteen, he looked some 
years older, and he had all the manners and 
appearance of a man. 

" They may come to favour each other some 
day," Joan had said -when he was an infant, 
speaking of himself and little Kachel ; and part, 
at least, of the prediction had come to pass. Ho 
was as hopelessly in love as ever boy could be with 
Eachel Dene. 

" Brother and sister ? " he muttered, echoing 
her words and shaking his curly head. Then he 
looked down at his coarse dress and hard, toil- 
worn hands, and felt quite hopeless and despairing. 
He might have been comforted a little had he 
known how eagerly Eachel, just before they met, 
had been discoursing to her companion, with 
"coarse hands " for a text. 



CHAPTER V. 

A GAME AT LAWN-TENNIS. 

It was a lovely summer afternoon, and there was 
a lawn-tennis party at the Oaks, to which some 
of the young people of the neighbourhood had 
been invited. 

Of course, Ealph Hollis and his mother were 



40 RACHEL DENE. 

there, and the vicar and his curate; then there 
were Jack Vipont, the squire's son, fresh from 
Oxford, and his sister Julia ; young Eaggett, 
the civil engineer ; and Wilkinson, the solicitor. 
Besides these, Ealph had got invitations for 
Captain Fitzherhert, and two or three of the 
officers of his father's old regiment, the fighting 
Forty-First, who happened to be quartered at 
Barford, hard by. The young man was great 
friends with these curly plungers — dined at mess 
with them, and afterwards adjourned to the rooms 
of some of the younger blood to play baccarat or 
poker. 

They were having a pleasant time of it that 
afternoon, when Jack Heywood, accompanied by 
his grandfather and Jabez Pryke, called by ap- 
pointment to show Jacob Dene a new invention 
which was to revolutionize the manufacture of 
alpaca. 

The interview took place in the great man's 
Btudy, and Jabez was the first spokesman. 

"It be most all Jack's work. Jasper and I 
helped him a bit, but he worked the idea out for 
hissen mostly. The lad's a born talent for using 
cogs and wheels. Jack, show Mr. Dene how the 
machine works." 

Jack blushed, and did as he was bid, 

" Thou art a boy," said the Quaker. " 'Tis but 
a boy's work, after all." 

" We must all be boys sometime," replied Jabez, 
laughing. " Jack here's one in a thousand, master. 



A GAME AT LAWN-TENNIS, 41 

We're both born fools to him, Jasper, his grand- 
fey ther, and me ! " 

Jacob inspected the model, and hummed and 
haa'd as Jack put it in motion. 

<' Very ingenious indeed ! And what dost thou 
calculate will be the nett result of this pretty 

toy ? " 

"Only an economy of labour and material 
amounting to about cent, per cent. — that is all ! " 
replied the lad, sturdily. 

"Thou art reckoning thy chickens, lad, before 
they're hatched," replied the old Quaker. 

" Perhaps so, sir ; but I'm going to try to hatch 
'em somewhere or other." 

" Well, send the model to my office at the mills, 
and we'll see what we can do with it in the course 
of a few months." 

"Beg pardon, sir," answered Jack, "but I can't 
do that. It has to go to town to-morrow to be 
registered at the Patent Office, and thence to the 
Manchester Exhibition." 

" Thou art a self-reliant youth ! " said Jacob 
Dene, astonished. 

"I've no one but myself to rely on, sir; and 
I've been taught to believe that God helps those 
who help themselves." 

" That's true. Well, since thou art here, thou 
hadst best come round to the lawn, and see thy 
old playfellow, Piachel. Thou knowest she's always 
glad to see thee." 

Jack was not so sure of that. He knew that 



42 RACHEL DENE. 

there was a time when Eachel was really glad to 
see him, but that time was past and gone. Yet, 
after all, if the invention were to strike fire ? Ah, 
if it were ? 

Jacob chatted pleasantly enough as he led the 
way to the lawn-tennis ground. Jack's face 
flushed, as ripples of laughter and pleasant sounds 
broke upon his ear ; above all, when he heard one 
voice, the voice he could tell out of a thousand. 

The sight was pleasant enough to look at. 
Twenty or thirty young people of both sexes loafed 
about without formality, chatting or flirting as 
the case might be ; some playing at tennis on the 
lawn, others disporting themselves amongst the 
greenery and flowers in shrubbery or summer- 
houses. The girls, in their quaint Kate Green- 
away dresses and straw hats, lightened up here 
and there with a brilliant bunch of ribbons ; the 
young men in their flannels of vivid and varied 
colours, sashes, canvas shoes, and straw hats. 

How bright, and simple, and natural, and 
unaffected it all seemed ; and yet, as Jack Heywood 
looked at it, what a gulf intervened between him 
and every one else there ! 

He stood alone on the edge of the lawn, look- 
ing at the play, while his graudsire and Jabez 
approached, with difiidence, to pay their respects 
to Mrs. Dene, who was in an arbour dispensing 
afternoon tea. 

Within a stone's throw of Jack, with their backs 
turned to him, stood a young couple, talking 



A GAME AT LAWN-TENNIS. 43 

together. He had no need to see their faces to 
tell him who they were. 

"Eachel," said the youth, "you are coming to 
dine at the Yicarage to-morrow ? " 

"I suppose so," she replied indifferently. 

" Don't say * suppose.' You will come." 

** Grandpa has promised." 

" I'm glad of that. You know that to-morrow 
is my birthday ? " 

"Yes." 

"I shall be one and twenty. May I speak to 
Mr. Dene ? " 

"■ Of course thou mayst speak to him," she 
replied simply. 

" Don't say * of course ' in that cold-blooded way. 
You know what I want to speak to him about." 

" About going into the army, I suppose ? But 
you must not ! " 

*' Confound the army ! I want to speak to him 
about you. You won't understand me ! Surely, 
you must feel — you must know, that I can't live 
without you." 

At this moment the ball came whizzing past 
them, and as Ealph turned in the effort to stop it, 
he came face to face with Jack Heywood. 

" Hallo, Heywood ! " he said, with the slightest 
shade of pique in his voice. " What the deuce 
brings you here ? " 

" My legs," replied Jack, laughing. 

Rachel, too, laughed at the reply, as she shook 
hands with the young workman. 



44 RACHEL DENE. 

At this moment the game finished. 

" Wilt thou stand in with me for the next 
game ? " inquired Eachel, with a smile. 

"Nay," answered Jack; "I don't play tennis. 
If it were cricket, now " 

"Ah, if it were ! I've seen thee hold the wicket 
against all comers," 

"Eachel, may I bring you a cup of tea?" 
inquired Ealph, nervously. 

" Nay, thanks ; I'm going to take tea with Mr. 
Heywood. Come along " (Jack, she was going to 
say, but she thought better or worse of it), — " come 
along, Mr. Heywood," she continued, "and grand- 
ma will be glad to see thee. And how is the 
wonderful invention getting on ? " 

As they approached Mrs. Dene and her al fresco 
tea-table, Ealph turned angrily away towards his 
mother, who was dispensing tea, and more sub- 
stantial refreshments, at the opposite end of the 
lawn. 

Watching her opportunity, she whispered, " Well, 
have you made the most of your opportunities, 
Ealph?" 

" I have ; but she holds me on, and keeps me o£f, 
until I feel inclined to throw it up altogether." 

"Foolish boy ! Throw up ten thousand a-year, 
and the prettiest girl in Yorkshire ! " 

"It's of no use; I can't get her to come to the 
point. Just as we were coming to cues, up comes 
that lout of a Jack Heywood, and she declares on 
to him immediately, leaving me in the lurch." 



A GAME AT LAWN-TENNIS. 45 

" You can't suppose that she has any proclivities 
in that direction ? " 

" I don't know. One would think not, for she is 
of gentle blood on both sides, while he belongs 
to the scum ; but women are so confoundedly 
foxy." 

** Methinks a gentleman might remember," 
said the widow, severely, "that his mother is a 
woman." 

" Of course he does. You don't suppose that he 
thinks his mother is a man ? " 

*'No; but he sometimes forgets that his father 
was a gentleman, and that he owes something to 
his father's name." 

Kalph laughed, and kissed her. 

"Forgive me, you old darling; but I'm riled, 
and when I'm riled I'm forgetful even of what I 
owe to the best of mothers." 

"Ah, Ralph, Ealph," she said, "you don't know 
how I love you ! " 

" Yes, I do, mother ; but I suppose I inherit my 
father's temper as well as his name. So bear with 
me, for dad's sake." 

While this conversation was going on at one end 
of the lawn, at the other, Jasper, Jabez, and Jack 
were being patronized by tho world in general — 
that is to say, by everybody but the Denes. 

The three men were in their Sunday go-to- 
meeting get-up, and in their dark rustic clothes 
and stove-pipe hats looked singularly out of place 
amongst these gay young people, in their airy and 



46 RACHEL DENE. 

graceful costumes. To be sure, Mrs. Dene put 
them a bit at their ease. To her, Jack was still 
Jack, Jabez was Jabez, and Jasper, Jasper. 

A muster of young men and women declared 
on to Kachel. She was obliged to be civil to 
everybody. So once more poor Jack found himself 
alone, chewing the cud of pleasant memories — 
memories which served to deepen the bitterness of 
his present loneliness. He recalled the time when, 
as children, they went out bird's-nesting ; the time, 
too, when Burnside Beck was swollen, and the 
plank bridge broken down. Had he not carried 
her on his back, breast-high, through the water ? 
Had they not rolled and romped in the new-mown 
hay when bairns ? And once, while still children, 
and beyond the eyes of the prudish Jacob, had she 
not called him out at kiss-in-the-ring ? That 
virgin kiss was still burning on his lips, while she 
had become a great lady, and he was only a poor 
operative. 

Ralph, too, who used to be a bright, friendly 
boy, was changed. Yet how Jack envied him ! 
Lost in a brown study, Jack found himself 
brought, by sheer accident, in contact with Mrs. 
Hollis. 

Smiling sweetly upon him, she opened fire. 

"Ah, Mr. Hey wood, it is an age since I have 
geen you ! "What brings you here to-day ? " 

"I came to show my model to the master." 

" You've seen my son, I suppose ? " 

*'Yes." 



A GAME AT LAIVN-TENXIS. 47 

** Do you know that to-morrow is his birth- 
day?" 

"I've heard so." 

" We have a dinner-party at the Vicarage in 
honour of the occasion — Mr. and Mrs. Dene, and 
Ealph's intended bride." 

"His intended bride?" echoed Jack. "And 
who is that, pray ? " 

" Don't you know ? " 

" Nay, indeed." 

" I thought everybody knew that my Ealph was 
going to marry Miss Dene." 

The lad shrank as if from a blow. 

"Yes, it is so," answered Mrs. Hollis. "I wish 
you'd come in to-morrow night after dinner to my 
room, and drink to Ealph's health." 

Jack was silent ; his lips felt dry as dust. 

"Eemember, too, if my son can help you in 
any way — if he can advance your prospects in 
life " 

She did not finish the sentence, for Jack was 
gone. He was seen no more that night. 

At midnight it commenced to rain, and kept 
raining until daybreak. The sun was striving to 
emerge from the clouds when Jack turned up at the 
cottage, pale and wan as a ghost. 

Joan Heywood had been up all night awaiting 
him. 

" What's the matter, hinney ? " she tenderly 
inquired. 

" Nothing, grannie." 



48 RACHEL DENE. 

"Eh, lad, you may tell that to the men, who, 
although they know thou'st gotten a hard head, 
never guess thou'st gotten a soft heart. It's 
summat about her, for sure — I know it is. Eest 
thy head here, lad — here, where it has rested when 
thou wert nobbut but a bonnie wee bit bairnie. 
That's reet. Now, lad, what is it ? " 

" Oh, grannie, she's going to wed Ealph Hollis ! " 

" Who told thee so ? " 

" His mother." 

" Dunna believe her. T' lass knows t' difference 
'twixt a man and a mannikin." 

"Oh, grannie, grannie," cried the lad, "you 
don't know how I love her ! " 

And he fell into a passion of tears. 

" That's reet, lad— that's reet. It'll tak' f sore- 
ness out of thy heart. Look — look yonder ! Dost 
see t' rainbow stealing out o' t' clouds, while t' 
mists of t' neet are meltin' into mornin' ? That's 
a good sign— a grand sign for thee, lad. And just 
listen to t' birds; they are singin' a weddin' march. 
Tak' heart, lad — tak' heart." 

*' I will, grannie — I will." 

And he did take heart, as we shall see. 



( 49 ) 
CHAPTER VI. 

THE GKEAT INVENTION. 

Jack Heywood might have spared his tears ; his 
alarm was altogether premature. Jacob Dene 
held the opinion that all men are equal, that wars 
are detestable, and that money is the merest 
dross. This was all very well in theory ; but, 
although our good Jacob called himself a Quaker, 
and " thee'd " and " thou'd " his friends, and was, 
for that matter, of amiable and peace-loving dis- 
position, yet he was an aristocrat at heart, and 
one fully alive to the value of this world's goods. 
If he ever contemplated the marriage of his grand- 
daughter, he looked much higher than Ealph 
Hollis for a suitable husband. 

"With the shrewdness of his class, moreover, he 
saw pretty deeply into the young man's character. 
He knew him to be a bad man of business, a light 
thinker, and the companion of other light thinkers ; 
and though he tolerated him for his mother's sake, 
he entertained no very exalted hopes of his future. 
He was shrewd enough, of course, to perceive 
what the match-making mother had in contem- 
plation ; but he simply shrugged his shoulders 
and made no sign. He had perfect confidence in 
the good sense of Rachel, who was clearly not 
heart-struck yet. 

The birthday party passed off without any sign 



so 



RACHEL DENE. 



or omen. The subject nearest to the heart of 
Mrs. Hollis was never broached; she also per- 
ceived that the time was not yet ripe. As may 
naturally be supposed, she didn't for a moment 
contemplate the possibility of her darling son ever 
having a rival in Jack Heywood. Jack was only 
a common lad, an operative — a nobody, in fact. 

A year passed rapidly away. Ealph Hollis con- 
tinued to dance attendance upon Eachel without 
making any visible progress in his suit. Jack 
Heywood, relieved from his first great fear, toiled 
late and early at mechanics, and especially at his 
favourite invention. 

From week's end to week's end old Joan kept 
the lad's heart up. 

" Coorage, lad," she would say. " ' Faint heart 
ne'er won fine lady,' as the saying is, and I'll back 
thee 'gin any lad i' t' county." 

A little love goes a long way in the world, and 
Jack had a great deal, for besides Joan, Jasper 
doted on his grandson, while Jabez loved him with 
" a love beyond the love of woman." For the lone 
man, this boy crystallized in one bright form the 
lost love of his youth, the friend of his boyhood, 
and the girl whom he had adored. To his mind, 
no woman was too good or good enough for Jack ; 
and it was a foregone conclusion with Jabez that 
Eachel could never have the heart to say nay to 
his boy when the good time came. 

The great invention had been patented, and 
exhibited at the Manchester Exhibition. One 



THE GREAT INVENTION. 51 

moruing, to the dellglit, though not to the as- 
tonishment, of Jack and his friends, came the 
award of the Executive Committee, enclosing the 
prize of a silver medal. By the same post came 
a communication from the great firm of Briggs 
and Boodlum, of Bridge Vale, requesting to know 
Jack's terms for the application of his patent in 
their extensive factories. 

He was beside himself with delight when he 
read the letter to grandfather and granny. Of 
course, Joan gushed, and hugged, and cooed over 
him. 

"Let un alone, mother," said Jasper, the cynic. 
" I can't aboar to see t' lad molly coddled i' that 
way." 

" Thee never was a mother, Jasper." 

"No, nor a grandmother, neither. Now what 
1 say is this. Of course t' old gaffer has a 
reet to t' refusal of Jack's invention; but if he 
doan't come to time, why then close at once, 
my lad, wi' Briggs and Boodlum. What dost say, 
Jack ? " 

" Well, grandad," answered the lad, "I'd rather 
hear what Jabez has to say." 

And away ran the lad as hard as he could go to 
the mills, and brought back Jabez with him, who 
delivered himself thus oracularly. 

" Why, for sure, I'd rather the honour and the 
glory 0' the thing should be wi' our own hoel York- 
shire than any other ; so suppose we go and have 
a talk wi' Mr. Dene. But thou must muzzle thy 



52 RACHEL DENE. 

mouth, Jasper, for tbe old man's apt to cut up 
rough if you scratch him the wrong way." 

So it was resolved, there and then, that they 
should beard the Quaker lion in his den. 

They got to the Oaks just after breakfast. 
When they were shown into the library, the 
"gaffer" was in the midst of the Times City 
article. 

Jabez was right — Jacob Dene was a difficult 
person to deal with. He was a great man, in a 
small way — a kind of paternal despot — who liked 
to do kind and even generous things, but who 
objected to being driven into them — indeed, he 
could not bear his hand being forced. He not 
only liked his own way, but his own way of having 
it. 

''What brings ye here?" he inquired curtly. 
"Anything wrong at the mills ? " 

"Nay, sir," responded Jabez, "but our Jack 
here has got the prize medal at the Exhibition, for 
t' new invention, and he just thought you'd like to 
have a look at it." 

" Surely it doesn't want three big men to carry 
a bit jimcrack of a medal," returned the old man, 
curtly. 

" It's no a bit jimcrack, sir; it weighs welly an 
ounce." 

" Nonsense, nonsense ! " cried the master. 
" Well, hand it over, and let's see it. Hem ! I 
congratulate thee, Jack Heywood. Well, what's 
at back of medal ? " 



THE GREAT INVENTION. 53 



ii rr 



The inscription," responded Jack. 

"I've seen the inscription, lad, but there's 
something more than the inscription behind it. 
Three great fellows have not come from the mills, 
merely to show mo a medal." 

Jack looked at Jabez, who stepped forward and 
stammered, " Well, it be this, Mr. Dene," he said, 
placing Briggs and Boodlum's letter in his hand. 

Jacob read it, and flushed with anger. Then he 
got up, and strode up and down the library in a 
most un-Quaker-like manner. Having relieved his 
mind by a little strong language, he cooled down 
a little. 

" This is most unhandsome, lads, and unbusiness 
like ! The idea of Briggs and Boodlum coming 
between me and my peo^Dle ! Well, if thou likest 
to go, Jack, go, and luck go with thee. Abandon 
thy old friends by all means — it's the way of the 
world." 

" But it isn't my way, sir," said Jack. *' The 
letter only came an hour ago. How am I to 
answer it ? " 

" Answer it, lad ? " cried Jacob Dene. " Why 
say thou'lt see Briggs and Boodlum further first ! 
Say that Jacob Dene has secured the invention for 
Deepdale Mills, on thy own terms ; that is to say," 
continued the old man, warily drawing himself up, 
" always provided that the invention works to 
Jacob Dene's satisfaction. The first thing to be 
done is to go and show this pretty thing (and it 
is a pretty thing) to my wife Susanna, and her 



54 RACHEL DENE. 

granddangliter ; the next, to order tlie machinery, 
and see how it works, and then we'll arrange about 
terms." 

So saying, he led the way to the drawing-room, 
where Kachel and her grandmother gave them all 
a cordial welcome. Both ladies were delighted 
with the medal. Finally Jacob rang for a bottle 
of Madeira, and i^roposed success to Jack's in- 
vention. 

When they were about to leave, Eachel shook 
hands with the lad, and said, smiling, *' I hope, 
Mr. Heywood " 

"You used to call me Jack once," he said. 

"Well, then. Jack, I hope thy invention will 
realize all thy desires." 

"Do you really hope that?" whispered Jack. 

"Yes, truly." 

"If it does, I shall be the happiest lad in the 
world." 

As he looked her in the eyes, her face flushed 
rosy red, but she turned away without another 
word. 

On their way back home Jasper and Jabez did 
all the talking. When they got to the mills, the 
two old fellows were in high spirits as they went 
from room to room showing the medal. Lads and 
lasses crowded round Jack, to congratulate him, 
but he walked about as if he were in a dream. At 
last he started off to the cottage, and ran every 
step of the way. 

Joan was making a pudding for the dinner. 



THE GREAT INVENTION. 55 

** Granny," said he, "the gaffer has arranged 
for the invention." 

" Good news, lad — good news ! " 

"And, granny " 

"Well?" 

" S]ic called me Jack I " 

Then Joan threw her arms, flour and all, round 
the lad's neck, and hugged him in an ecstasy of 
delight at the realization of her prophecy. 

A month later, and one of the machines was 
fitted up in the mills for the purpose of ascertaining 
whether it would accomplish all that the. young 
inventor had promised. Jacob Dene, the overseer 
of the spinning department, Mrs. Hollis, Mrs. 
Dene, Rachel, Ealph, and the vicar, were formed 
into an informal committee of inspection to see 
the result of the inaugural experiments. 

Of course, the ladies knew as much of the matter 
as they knew of Euclid or Sanscrit, nor were 
Ealph or the vicar much wiser. The machine 
accomplished much, but the arrangements were 
still incomplete. However, the practised eyes of 
the overseer and Jacob Dene took in in a moment 
the enormous value which must ultimately accrue 
from the invention. At present, it required a cog 
here, a pin there, a strap round a certain barrel, 
and then — hey, presto ! the entire trade would be 
revolutionized. 

Jack was overwhelmed with congratulations, 
and a little dinner was improvised at the Oaks 



56 RACHEL DENE. 

that niglit in compliment to the happy lad. A 
very pleasant gathering it was for everybody but 
Ralph and his mother, who were neither of them 
too well pleased. Jack v;as the hero of the hour. 
Could it have been his fancy that Rachel appeared 
a little more reserved than usual? Everybody 
else was full of the great event, but she had little 
to say about it, pleading ignorance as her excuse. 
This lack of appreciation was the only alloy to our 
inventor's triumph. 

When he got home, while Jasper and Jabez 
foregathered over their pipes, he got Joan into a 
corner, and laid bare his heart. 

"Granny," said he, '' slie was the only one who 
eaid nowt about the invention." 

Joan laughed knowingly. 

*' Shows she tJiought all t' more. Of course, lad, 
thee doesn't understand. But, there, thou seest 
thee is na a woman, and dost na know the deceitful 
ways o' wenches. I know all about 'em ; I was a 
wench once mysen. When thy grandfather used 
to come a-courtin' me, I allays looked as if I 
wished un at Kirby Lonsdale, though if he hadna 
come I should a' greeted my een out." 

" Oh, granny, do you think that she really cares 
for me a bit — only a little bit ? " 

"Cares for thee? Why, of course she does! 
Only last Sunday, when she came into church, she 
smirked and nodded to Mrs. Hollis and Ralph 
quite sonsy like, then she looked over at our pew 
and turned pale as a lily. What did she turn 



A BLACK MONDAY, 57 

pale for, I should like to know ? Wby, because 
thou was na theer ; and when thou earnest in by- 
and-by, and she caught sight of thee, she flushed 
up red as a rose in June. What was that for, I 
should like to know ? Thou'lt see, this invention 
will win thee thy wife ; if not to-day, to-morrow, 
or next day. It'll come, lad — it's sure to come ! " 

Jack caught her in his arms and hugged her. 

"And when thou art a great man, hinney," she 
said, sobbing, " thou'lt no be ashamed o' thy old 
granny— wilt thee. Jack ? " 

"Never — never! " 



CHAPTER VII. 

A BLACK MONDAY. 

Just as the new invention was in full swing, Jack 
got a day off to have a run with the Brocklesby 
hounds. When he reached the meet there was a 
brave show of county people, and conspicuous 
among the party were Ealph Hollis and Eachel 
Bene. They belonged to the privileged class, and 
were in the thick of the throng, while poor Jack, 
being an intruder, merely hung upon the outskirts. 
His blucher boots, bowler hat, and homely 
jacket did not contrast to advantage with Ralph's 
white hat, smart pink coat, boots, and breeches. 
Evidently Master Ealph was well satisfied with 
himself or with something else that morning, for 



58 RACHEL DENE. 

the fellow looked happy and handsome as he 
chatted away with Eachel. For that matter, so 
did she until she caught sight of Jack, to whom 
she bowed gravely. He returned the courtesy as 
coldly as it was given. 

''Morning, Heywood — morning," said Ealph. 
*' Got a day's holiday ? " 

" Yes," growled Jack, as he gave his cob the 
spur, and trotted off, half disposed to gallop back 
to Deepdale there and then. 

But he was young. Besides, he was a York- 
shireman; so when he heard the yelping of the 
hounds, and the cry of the " view hallo," — for they 
had found a fox almost immediately — he galloped 
back even more quickly than he had left the field. 

There had been a heavy snowfall a few days 
before, a heavier thaw followed, a flood ensued, 
and all the rivers in Yorkshire overflowed their 
banks. The fox knew his ground, and led straight 
over hill and dale until they reached Blocklesby 
Ferry, where the Ouse was rushing down south- 
ward in a foaming torrent. Without hesitation, 
Reynard took the stream, the dogs followed, and, 
despite the strength of the current, made the other 
side a quarter of a mile lower down in safet3^ 

Carried away by the example of the fox and the 
hounds, those who were foremost in the field 
boarded the ferry-boat, which, in a minute's time, 
was overcrowded with men and horses. Fortu- 
nately only one woman was aboard. 

The boat had barely left the shore, when Jack 



A BLACK MONDAY. 59 

came up on his cob. Irritated at being left bcliind, 
he contemplated the departure of the boat with 
anything but equanimity. There was nothing for 
it, however, but to await its return. 

As he looked on, impatiently, a terrified horse 
aboard the boat, which was now in mid river, 
began to rear, and kick, and plunge. The example 
was contagious ; every horse aboard followed suit. 
Amidst the yells of the affrighted animals, 
and the wild cries of their riders, the boat cap- 
sized, and man and beast were flung headlong in 
one screaming, struggling mass into the rushing 
river. Jack never forgot that scene of horror ; he 
never can forget it to his dying day. Man after 
man went down, wildly calling for help ; they rose 
and sank, and rose and sank again, then drifted 
down to death. The noise, the struggle, and the 
commotion ceased. All was silent ; nothing was 
to be heard to remind one of this sudden and awful 
tragedy but the roar of the river, and then— the 
wild face of a woman emerging from the waste of 
waters fifty paces lower down. There was but one 
face in all the world like that, and when Jack 
Heywood saw it rise, as it were, from death, for a 
moment his heart stood still ! 

Then he pulled himself together, and with the 
rapidity of lightning took stock of the situation. 
A hundred paces still lower down the river 
described an acute curve, shaped almost like the 
letter U. This curve somewhat broke and 
deadened the force of the torrent. 



6o RACHEL DENE. 

Keeping his eyes fixed on the fair, pale face, 
Jack sx^urred his horse till he reached the bend of 
the curve, and then, with set teeth and muscles of 
steel, he pulled u^d, ready to take the leap on "which 
life or death depended. 

As he looked, the face went down for the second 
time. 

For the second time ! There was still one 
chance left. At the edge of the curve, it rose for 
the third time. The eyes — the pleading eyes — 
met his ! 

All depended now upon when and how he should 
take the leap. A moment too soon, and he would 
be carried down the river, powerless to help, 
before her. A moment too late, and he would be 
behind her. There was a third and worse 
alternative, he might ride over her. 

At the supreme moment he drew himself 
together, and the leap was made. 

As she floated by in the last agony, he plucked 
her by her sunny hair, which fell in great 
dishevelled masses down her shoulders, flung her 
across his saddle-bow, and floated safely down the 
river, until he approached another curve, which 
enabled him to land in safety with his precious 
burden. 

She was cold and inanimate as death. Save 
for the feeble beating of her heart, she might have 
been dead indeed. He held her in his strong 
arms — he pressed her to his heart — he laid her 
tenderly upon the ground — he chafed her hands — 



A BLACK MONDAY. 6i 

he laid his cheeks to hers — he kissed her brow, 
her eyes, her lips — not with a lover's passion, but 
with a man's devotion, trying to breathe his own 
warmth and vitality into her expiring life, all the 
while beseeching Heaven with tears and prayers 
to spare her for the sake of those who loved 
her, and, perchance, a little for his own. 

Surely his prayer was heard and answered ; for 
— with a shudder which thrilled her from head to 
foot, quickening her blood into returning life — she 
opened her eyes, and looked at him. 

" Jack ! " she gasped. That was all. 

But that was enough. 

We have lost sight of Ealph, as, indeed, he had 
lost sight of Eachel half an hour before. The fact 
was, his mare had shied at Thorby Beck, which 
was swollen like a torrent, while Eachel, Squire 
Mordaunt, and a dozen others whose blood was 
up, had taken it flying, from the edge of the 
cliff. 

Ealph was not alone — for two-thirds of the field 
shirked the leap, and concluded to make a detour. 
But Jack had made a way for himself ; and while 
the others were crawling leisurely round to the 
left, he discovered a narrower arm of the dyke — 
leaped it — and hence it was that, guided by the 
hand of Heaven, he had arrived in time to save 
the life he loved. 

Yes, she was safe — there was no doubt about 
that. But how to get her to some haven of refuge ? 



62 RACHEL DENE. 

There was no sign of shed or shelter, far as the 
eye could reach. 

While she lay shivering on the ground in her 
wet clothes — to make matters more agreeable, it 
began to snow. Then he pulled off his coat, and 
wrapped it round her. If he only had a flask now ; 
but he carried nothing of the kind. 

The snow thickened — he didn't feci it — for the 
fever in his heart had set him on fire. 

Leaving his sturdy cob beside her, he ran two 
or three hundred yards towards one of those stone 
fences so common in Yorkshire. Leaping atop, 
he gave the view hallo ! There w^as no response. 
Again, and yet again, he shouted — still no reply. 

The snowflakes fell heavier and heavier — the 
grey clouds thickened, and became overcast — until 
a pall of darkness overshadowed the earth. 

What was to be done ? 

He overleaped the intervening dyke, and ran 
over a ploughed field, sinking into the sludge, 
almost knee-deep at every step. Again he leaped 
the wall — again he shouted. This time, he was 
answered. He listened with his heart in his 
mouth. Presently he heard the murmur of distant 
voices, the galloping of horses. 

At last, ten or a dozen horsemen, with Ralph 
Hollis at their head, emerged from the mist. 
When Jack told them what had happened, a thrill 
of horror passed through the group, and an awful 
silence befell as they thought of friends and 
comrades thus untimely called to their last account. 



A BLACK MONDAY. 63 

While they stood Hke men transformed to stone, 
Jack said to Tom Brixholme, the whipper-in, who 
bestrode a great sorrel mare, " Tom, give us a lift 
behind thee, lad. While these gentlemen stand 
gaping here, poor Miss Dene will be perished ; so 
give the mare her head, and let her up." 

Even as he spoke, off they went in a gallop, 
followed by the rest of the field, until they reached 
the spot where Eachel still lay shivering. 

Dismounting rapidly he knelt beside her, and, 
raising her tenderly, placed his ear against her 
bosom. It still palpitated gently; so there was 
no immediate cause for alarm. 

Up to this moment Ralph had not spoken. 

At last he said, " How can I thank you ? " 

*' I don't need your thanks," replied the other. 

Ealph paused for a moment as he made answer. 

*' Of course I shall take her home at once." 

'* Excuse me," said Jack, " but I shall take care 
of her this turn. Happen one of you gentlemen 
may have such a thing as a drop of brandy about 
you ? " 

Half a dozen flasks were instantly placed at his 
disposal, and when he had succeeded in getting a 
few drops of the potent spirit down her throat she 
began to revive. 

There was no conveyance — not even so much as 
a hurdle — so Jack did not hesitate as to his plan 
of action. 

"Tom Brixholme," said he, "is there e'er a 
farmhouse nigh ? " 



64 RACHEL DENE. 

" Yes, there's Farmer Sparrow's— at Barnolby- 
le-Beck, about a mile off." 

Lifting Eacbel from the ground, Jack continued, 
** As soon as I'm mounted, give her to me." 

"Eight you are. Jack," replied the whipper-in. 
''But first, lad, slip on this coat. It be t' Squire's. 
I brought it for un, sure. He'll never want it 
again, poor ge'l'man ! " 

Jack slipped on Squire Mordaunt's coat, sprang 
astride the cob, and rode leisurely to Barnolby-le- 
Beck, bearing his treasure in his arms — upon his 
heart. Poor Ealph felt that his nose was out of 
joint, and there was nothing for it but to follow 
and play second fiddle, which he did with a rueful 
face. There is no use, however, kicking against 
the pricks, and he had to accept the inevitable. 

When they got to Farmer Sparrow's, the dame 
and her milking-maid took charge of Eachel. The 
honest soul stripped the girl of her wet clothing, 
chafed the frigid limbs, got her to bed, and 
administered a warm posset. 

As soon as she came to, she inquired, " Where's 
Jack?" 

" I don't know who Jack is," replied the dame, 
*'but there be two young men downstairs. One 
carried you here in his arms on horseback; the 
other is in pink, and raal handsome he is." 

** Prithee tell them to let Grandpapa and Grandma 
Dene know that I'm all right ; only I'm so sleepy." 

Five minutes later she was sleeping placidly as 
an infant. 



A BLACK MONDAY. 65 

While she slept, the two young men rode towards 
Deepdale together. Ealph smoked mcessantly, 
and stopped at every halfway house to have a nip. 
It was in vain that he invited Jack to accompany 
him. The latter had already taken the precaution 
to fortify himself at Dame Sparrow's with hot 
coffee and a dish of ham and eggs. Both men 
were moody and taciturn, and spoke little to each 
other. 

Upon arriving in the valley, Ralph went to the 
Vicarage. Jack paused for a moment at the 
cottage to hurriedly tell Joan and Jasper what 
had happened, and to ask the old woman to get 
some dry clothing ready for him ; then he picked 
up Jabez at the mills, and they went to the Oaks 
together. 

Mrs. Dene and Jacob were much alarmed at 
Eachel's absence, for it was now getting on for 
nine o'clock, and they had expected her back to 
dinner at six. When Jack told them what had 
happened, Jacob ordered the break out immediately. 
It was useless for Jack to assure him that there 
was no further danger. Jacob was impatient of 
opposition. 

" Thy cob is worn out," he said. " Go to the 
stable, and take the best nag thou canst find. 
Take it, and keep it, lad, for this day's work. 
That'll do ; spare thy speech. Gallop down to the 
Vicarage. Tell parson I'll call for him in half an 
hour ; and, Jabez, do thou call on Doctor Whitaker, 
and ask him to make ready to go with us." 



i6 RACHEL DENE. 

The poor cob was indeed done up ; that struggle 
in the river, and the ride to Farmer Sparrow's 
double weighted, and the long ride to Deepdale, 
had taken the backbone out of him, so Jack was 
not sorry to give him a rest. But in Jacob's 
stable there was a splendid young chestnut mare 
called Lucy, which Jack had long admired. 

While the groom saddled her, Jack gave the cob 
a rub down ; then he leaped upon the mare, and 
trotted down to the cottage, where he slipped on 
his dry clothing, which done, he galloped on to 
the Vicarage, which he found in a state of con- 
sternation. 

Almost immediately upon Ralph's arrival he 
was taken suddenly ill. Whether occasioned by 
fatigue, anxiety, vexation, or those repeated "nips" 
on the way, or all combined, no man may tell. 

Doctor Whitaker had already been sent for. He 
merely unloosed the young man's neck-cloth, smelt 
his breath, and shook his head. 

"Is there any danger?" inquired Mrs. Hollis, 
anxiously. 

"Nothing that a draught of bitter water in the 
morning will not obviate. For the present, put 
him to bed, and let him sleep." 

Ten minutes later the Denes, the vicar, the 
doctor, Jabez, and Rachel's maid were on their 
way to Barnolby-le-Beck, accompanied by Jack. 
To their inexpressible relief, they found their 
darling still sleeping soundly — so soundly that the 
doctor forbore to wake her. 



A BLACK MONDAY. 67 

Then came a difficulty. It was now too late to 
return to Deepdale. Dame Sparrow was, however, 
a woman of resources, and beds were improvised 
here, there, and everywhere, and soon after mid- 
night the house was at rest. 

Eachel did not awake until about nine o'clock. 
When she found her grandmother on one side of 
the bed, and the maid on the other, she said, 
*' I've been dreaming, grandma, such a strange 
dream. I thought I was out with the hounds at 
Brocklesby Ferry ; that the boat was capsized ; 
that every one was drowned but me; that Jack 
came and saved me." • 

" And so he did, my darling ! It was no dream. 
The brave lad did save thee, God bless him ! But 
see, here's Jacob, and Grandpa Lyster, and Doctor 
Whitaker." 

When the two old men saw their darling, radiant 
with youth and health, they kissed and caressed 
her; and at a signal from the vicar, all knelt 
beside the bed and offered up a silent thanksgiving 
that she had been delivered from the jaws of 
death. 

By-and-by, when the doctor came and told Jack 
and Jabez that all the danger was past, the two 
men shook hands in silence, and while Jabez went 
to take his morning pipe in the farmyard, Jack 
went out for a stroll towards the Beck. 

He walked along lazily, with his bands in his 
pockets, until he was out of sight of the house and 
its inhabitants. 



68 RACHEL DENE. 

Then Master Jack ran a little, he danced a little, 
he laughed a good deal, then he burst out crying, 
like a great baby ; but finally he walked quietly 
back to the farm, softly whistling ** The British 
Grenadiers." When he got to the kitchen, Jabez 
was sitting down to breakfast. 

" Thou art happy, lad ! " said he. 

"Ay, and hungry, too, Jabez ! " 

Evidently he was, for he polished off his break- 
fast in fine style. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

RALPH HOLLIS. 

We have compared Ralph Hollis and Jack Hey wood 
to the idle and industrious apprentices immortalized 
by Hogarth ; but the comparison is, of course, an 
inadequate one, since the two lads of Deepdale, 
unlike their prototypes, didn't " start fair." Hollis 
had all the advantages of birth, blood, education, 
and refined surroundings ; Heywood had all the 
disadvantages on the other side. And yet, as we 
have seen, the poorer lad was rapidly gaining on 
his social superior. He was recognized on every 
hand as a clever, industrious fellow, likely to rise 
to almost any position. He had already invented 
a mood of economizing labour which might bring 
him in a fortune ; and, to crown all, he was a hero 
— he had saved Rachel Dene's life. 



RALPH MOLLIS. 69 

All this was gall and wormwood to the hand- 
some son of Mrs. Hollis. To be surpassed in 
everything by a social inferior, and one his junior 
by several years, was a constant source of irrita- 
tion. In his dilemma he turned for help to his 
mother, who, rendered preternaturally acute by 
maternal affection, kept her eyes fixed constantly 
on Rachel Dene, and saw, to her amazement, that 
Ralph was daily losing ground. True, Ea«hel 
liked the young man very well, for he was gay, 
dashing, and not ungenerous of disposition; but 
whenever there was a hint of love-making she 
shielded herself under the grey hood of Quakerdom, 
and couldn't or wouldn't understand. Attracted 
as much by her physical beauty as by her fortune, 
Ralph used all his powers of fascination, which 
were not very great, seeing that his experience 
lay chiefly among ladies of lighter disposition. 
He was quite at home with a handsome barmaid 
or a mirth-loving mill-girl, but he didn't under- 
stand the ways of pure and cultivated women. 

The mother and son, like many who love each 
other much, wrangled a good deal over this and 
other subjects. Mrs. Hollis was proud and im- 
perious ; Ralph irritable and indolent ; and some- 
times they came to such high words that they 
hardly spoke afterwards for days together. Then 
Ralph would drive over to Barford to dine with 
the officers of the Forty-First, his father's old 
regiment ; there would be cards, and dice, and 
billiards, and other amusements popular among 



70 RACHEL DENE. 

sucii young gentlemen, and our idle apprentice 
would ride back to the counting-house "with an 
aching head and an empty pocket, to go through 
the disagreeable drudgery of earning his daily 
bread. Over and over again, however, he had to 
appeal to his mother to help him out of his diffi- 
culties, and in doing so she got into difficulties 
herself. Still, it was for her darling's sake ; and, 
as the young scapegrace constantly promised 
amendment, the poor, fond mother helj)ed him, 
and prayed for better days. 

There was one consolation — Ealph was the next- 
of-kin to an earldom. How fervently, amidst his 
pecuniary and other troubles, he prayed that his 
titled relative might remain a bachelor, and die at 
as early an opportunity as was convenient and 
possible. 

More than once Jacob Dene lectured the young 
man on his conduct. One day, when Ealph 
returned from a night's orgy just in time to get to 
his desk in the morning, the old Quaker sent for 
him, and thus addressed him : " Thou art no 
flesh and blood of mine, Ealph Hollis, but I am 
sorry to see thy mother's son going so fast downhill 
to the place thou knowest. Thou wast at Barford 
last night, and rode over at daybreak? " 

Ealph, who looked pale and wretched, and felt 
desperately ill and uncomfortable, forced a laugh. 

*'A friend was going away. We gave him a 
little dinner, and kept it up rather late." 

''Who was thy friend?" 



RALPH HOLLIS. ^\ 

*' Mr. Ilarkaway, of the Forty-First. His father 
and mine were intimately acquainted. I hope, Mr. 
Dene, you don't find me inattentive to my duties ? 
I do my best, but the fact is, you know, I haven't 
much of a head for business." 

"Nay," said Jacob Dene, dryly; "thou likest 
card-playing and folly better than honest work. 
Hast thou ever reflected, man, what it means to 
thee and thy mother ? " 

Ralph shrugged his shoulders. 

"You see, I wasn't born for this sort of thing," 
he muttered, biting his lips, and scowling moodily. 

"Born to be hung, maybe ! " cried the Quaker, 
sharply. " What dost thou call thyself ? " 

" A gentleman, I suppose." 

" I know a better word — a ne'er-do-well. Take 
warning and example ! There's a lad in these mills 
who might teach thee, if thou art capable of 
learning a lesson." 

" I suppose you mean young Hey wood," returned 
Ralph. " I know, sir, he's your favourite, but 
allow me to say that a gentleman does not take 
example by his social inferiors." 

" Thou art a jackanapes ! " cried Jacob, angrily. 
** I have a mind to send thee packing ! If it were 
not for thy mother's sake " 

" Pray don't mind her ! " returned Ralph, hotly, 
for he was in the humour for a quarrel. " I can 
go, sir, whenever you like. I dare say I can pick 
up a living somehow and somewhere." 

And he flounced out of his master's room, and 



72 RACHEL DENE. 

returned to bis place in the counting-house. He 
was sick of the whole business, and did not care, 
for the moment, what might happen. In bis 
irritation and anger, he forgot altogether about 
Eachel. "When he recovered bis temper, be re- 
gretted bis hasty words on her account, and felt 
half-inclined to apologize. However, he was too 
proud for that. 

But Jacob Dene made no further sign, beyond 
talking over matters with Mrs. Hollis, and begging 
her to use her influence towards the young man's 
reformation, which she tearfully promised to do. 
A few evenings later, when Ealph had finished his 
dinner, and sat by the fire in the vicar's sanctum 
reading a sporting newspaper, she came in and 
sat down opposite her son. The vicar was out on 
a sick call, and they were quite alone. 

She did not speak for some time, but sat with 
her ej'es fixed on the fire. 

At last she said quietly, ** Have you seen Eachel 
to-day ? " 

" No," he replied, over bis newspaper. 

** She called this afternoon." 

" Humph ! " muttered the young man, carelessly. 

Another silence. It was clear that Ealph was 
prepared for a lecture, for without looking up he 
continued to read his newspaper with a scowl. 

" Put down that paper and talk to me," said 
Mrs. Hollis. Ealph hesitated a moment, then 
threw the journal aside. 

" What's the matter now ?" he exclaimed. 



liALPH MOLLIS. 73 

*' I want to speak to you about yourself, autl 
al)out Kacliel." 

" Well, mother ? " 

" You are behaving very foolishly and very 
badly. Mr. Dene is right." 

" Oh, he has been sounding my praises ! " cried 
Pialph. " Old humbug ! I gave him a bit of my 
mind the other day when he began preaching to 
me down at the mill. He thinks me a fool, but 
he's mistaken." 

" I'm afraid he's right," returned Mrs. Hollis. 

''Thank you!" 

"He complains, and justly, that you neglect 
your duties, and keep bad company." 

"I keep company v/ith gentlemen, which is 
more than he has ever done. Mother," he added 
hotly, " I'm sick of it all. I was never meant to 
be chained to a desk, or to pore over figures in a 
ledger. I'm determined to cut it as soon as 
possible." 

" And Eachel ? " asked Mrs. Hollis, coldly. 

" Pachel is as bad as her grandfather. She 
never cared for me, and never will. Why should 
I keep on dangling at the heels of a methodistical 
flirt ? Why should I humiliate myself by following 
a girl like that ? " 

"It is your own fault if you have not vron her 
heart," said the lady. " You have had every 
chance, yet you let her go without an effort. You 
waste half your time with the men at Barford, and 
while you are playing cards and billiards, young 



74 EACH EL DENE. 

Heywood, who has not a tithe of your gifts, is 
gaining every clay in her esteem." 

" Nice taste that ! " sneered Ealph. " A common 
mechanic ! A fellow who can't speak decent 
English ! " 

" He's not so bad as that ; though, of course, 
he is not a gentleman. Eemember, however, that 
Jacob Dene himself belongs to the people, and so, 
for that matter, does Eachel herself." 

Ealph rose impatiently, and stood with his back 
to the fire, looking angrily at his mother. 

*' Let Eachel take the fellow, and welcome. I 
am sick of humouring her human fancies ! " 

*'You know you love her, so don't talk so 
absurdly," said Mrs. HoUis. " Oh, Ealph, do look 
at the matter seriously. You are ruining your 
own prospects and breaking my heart ! " 

And the proud woman hung her head, while the 
fast-streaming tears ran down her cheeks. 

With all his faults, Ealph loved his mother. 
She was the only living being, indeed, who in- 
spired in him either deep respect or strong affec- 
tion; so her grief moved him, and, bending over 
her, he asked her forgiveness. 

"But you know, mother," he said, "I cannot 
bear the life I am leading. I ought to have been 
a soldier, like my father. After all, that's the only 
life fit for a man ! " 

In his secret heart Ealph w^as thinking more of 
the amusements and dissipations of military life 
than of its dangers and glories ; but the fond 



RALPH IIOLLIS. 75 

mother looked at him in sudden pride, and thought, 
with a sigh, how closely he resembled his dead 
father. 

"I wish it could have been," she said. *'My 
boy, you must be patient ; perhaps some day our 
fortunes may change, and then " 

She did not finish the sentence, but he under- 
stood her. Both were thinking of the one life 
which stood between Ealph Hollis and an earldom. 
Little did Mrs. Hollis know that, even in that 
faint expectation of the succession — faint because 
the present Earl was strong and hale, and might 
marry any day — the young man had already 
speculated largely. He was, in fact, far deeper in 
the mire of difficulties than any one suspected. 
That very morning a writ had been served upon 
him in the streets of Deepdale. He had got among 
a bad set, and in order to keep pace with its 
members he had used every device to raise money. 
His mother's resources were, as he knew, ex- 
hausted ; his own were unsubstantial as thin air, 
for the small sum he received for his work at the 
mills would have scarcely sufficed to pay his tailor's 
bilL 



76 RACHEL DENE, 



CHAPTER IX. 

A FOREWARNING. 

That business at Brocklesby Ferry was a bad 
clay's work for Ralph Hollis. 

He was thankful, however, that it was no worse. 
Had he been beside Rachel at the critical moment, 
he might have been unable to restrain her from 
going on board the boat. Of course, he would 
have gone with her ; then, in sporting phraseology, 
the odds were ten to one that he would have been 
drowned with the rest. On the other hand, had 
he come up with Jack, both would have certainly 
jumped into the river together in the endeavour 
to save her; and perhaps while the rivals were 
struggling for the honour of rescuing her, they 
would all three have perished. Of course, it was 
not Ralph's fault that his mare shied at Thorby 
Beck, but it was his misfortune. It left him out 
of the hunt, and gave Jack a chance which might 
never occur again in his lifetime. 

Then there was that confounded brandy, of 
which he had taken enough, and to spare. Yes, 
he reflected; it was a bad day's work for him. 

However that might be, that Black Monday 
could never be blotted out ; and no one knew it 
better than Ralph himself — that is, when he was 
himself. At times he would be resolute, and never 



A FOREWARNING. 77 

touch alcohol for weeks together. Then a moment 
of weakness or temptation occurred, and away 
went his virtuous resolves like a handful of thistle- 
down before the wind. So long as he was under 
the influence of his mother he was right enough ; 
but he could not always be tied to her apron- 
strings, and when once he got among his mihtary 
and racing friends, good-bye to prudence and 
common sense. 

His extravagance had involved Mrs. Hollis in 
continual difficulties. So long as her father- 
in-law lived she got a little help occasionally ; 
but he had been deceased for nearly a year, 
and her brother-in-law, the new Earl, had 
refused to give her a shilling. It was, however 
almost a certainty that Ealph would inherit thv 
earldom at some distant period, which was some- 
thing to look forward to. If the lad would only 
keep steady, and if that match could be brought 

about with Eachel But, then, if it could 

not? 

He had set his heart upon her, and the thought 
of losing her seemed beyond the bare pale of 
possibility. Still, he could not help fancying that 
she had never been the same to him since the day 
at the ferry. He noted, too, with growing im- 
patience and irritation, that Jack was a frequent 
guest at the Oaks, that he had taken to dressing 
in a more civilized manner, that he had even 
taken to lawn-tennis, and that he was a deft and 
dangerous opponent in that, or any other game 



78 RACHEL DENE. 

in which skill, or strength, or courage were 
necessary. 

Now Ealph had so long taught himself to helieve 
that Eachel was to be his wife, that the bare idea 
of any other man coming between them appeared 
an outrage. That a mere ordinary operative — a 
vulgar mechanic — should dare to aspire to Eachel 
— Hs bright and beautiful Eachel — was not to be 
thought of. 

But Jack was not an '' ordmary " operative — on 
the contrary, he was a very extraordinary one ; 
and, though a mechanic, he was by no means a 
vulgarian. Moreover, he was now in a fair way to 
become a rich man. 

They met daily at the mills, and though not 
particularly cordial, were always civil to each 
other. The proverb is as true as it is trite, that 
*' lookers on see most of the game ; " and Jabez 
saw with increasing anxiety, that distrust was 
ripening into dislike between these two young 
men. 

As for the innocent cause of this contention, she 
scarcely knew her own heart, or, if she did, she 
did not care to scrutinize it too closely. She was 
really always glad to see Ealph — that is, when he 
was not too pressing in his attentions. On the 
other hand, she was grateful to Jack Heywood for 
having saved her life — and perhaps a little more 
than pleased to see evidences of some attempt at 
refinement in his manners and demeanour. 

Time passed on, and the great invention, though 



A FOREIVARNING, 79 

it scarcely justified its title, proved so far satisfac- 
tory, that it was adopted, with certain modifications, 
in the Deepdale Mills ; and before Jack Heywood 
attained his majority, he found himself foreman of 
the department in which the machine was used, 
and in the receipt of a handsome income. This 
increased prosperity made no difference in his 
domestic habits. He continued to live at the 
cottage with the old people. 

"Didna I allays say it ! " Joan would constantly 
exclaim. ** Thou wast born to be a gentleman, 
and some day, lad, thou'lt be master 0' t' mill 
itself." 

Jack would laugh, and blush, and look at himself 
in the glass, and think, very possibly, that the 
old woman was not far wrong. One thing, how- 
ever, marred the completeness of his self-satisfac- 
tion. His new pride and happiness seemed to 
make no favourable impression on Jabez Pryke. 

One day, therefore, he spoke out to Jabez. It 
was just after the dinner hour, and they were 
walking back to the mills together — he with a 
rose in the button-hole of his office-suit, Jabez in 
all the picturesque shabbiness of his working 
clothes. 

" What ails you, Jabez ? " he asked. *' You 
seem changed a bit from old times. Sometimes I 
fancy you're sorry to know of my good luck." 

The overseer stopped short, and looked at him 
quietly with his gentle, patient eyes — eyes so full 
pf introspection, that they seemed to suffer from 



8o RACHEL DENE. 

the tender light they shed upon him. Then he 
laid his hand upon the young man's shoulder. 

"It's just this, lad," he replied. "I'm reet 
glad o' your good luck, and proud o't into the 
bargain ; hut I'm troubled whiles i' my own mind 
about what's to come o't. 'Taint allays the best 
or the cleverest colt as wins t' race, and 'twould be 
a bad look-out if t' luck were to turn thy head." 

"What d'ye mean?" cried the lad, flushing 
angrily. 

"I mean naut but what I say. Jack. T' luck, 
maybe, has come too quick to last. You're nobbut 
a boy, and you're reckoning the race o'er far 
ahead." 

" How d'ye know that ? I do my work and bide 
my time, and Master Dene has promised to help 
me along." 

" That's reet enough," said the overseer. "But 
he'll ne'er help thee to Miss Eachel, if that's i' thy 
mind. T' master's proud, and he has the right to 
be proud ; but he's a great man, lad, and try thy 
best, you're nobbut one of the people. Blood's 
thicker nor water, as t' saying is." 

The lad looked angrily at the speaker, who 
continued quietly. 

"But 'tis not that I were thinking o' altogether. 
You're gotten beyond us hardworking folk, and 
hankering after fine company. Up at Barford, 
holiday times, you spend your brass wi' swells. 
Last Leger, you went into t' ring, and lost money 
on t' favourite." 



( 83 ) 

CHAPTER X. 

THE FEAST OF ST. LEGER. 

The great Yorksbire carnival came on again. 
Saint Lcger was holding sovereign sway and 
masterdom on the Moor at Doncaster. 

The mill hands had knocked ofT, and gone in 
thousands by a special train. Everybody in Deep- 
dale had gone except Joan and Jasper Hcywood, 
whose knee was as big as his head with a sudden 
and violent attack of rheumatism, so his wife 
stayed at home to nurse him. Though Jacob 
Dene was a Quaker, a Quaker is still a man — 
especially a Yorkshire Quaker, when there is a 
horse in the way — and he accompanied his wife 
and granddaughter to Doncaster. Mr. Lyster, 
too, escorted Mrs. Hollis ; Ealpli Hollis went with 
his friends, Captain Fitzherbert and other plun- 
gers of the Forty-First from Barford ; while Jack 
and Jabez drove over together to catch the train 
at Barnolby Junction. Jabez was for staying at 
home, but, seeing that Jack was bent on going, he 
determined to accompany him. 

What a scene it was, to be sure, when they 
got to Doncaster ! Train after train disgorged its 
thousands. The High Street was crowded — 
almost impassable. But the scene at the moor 
itself baffles description. Life, colour, gaiety, 
animation were everywhere ; and as for the crowd. 



84 RACHEL DENE. 

that could only be calculated by hundreds of 
thousands. 

A dozen different dialects of Yorkshire, con- 
tended for mastery with our own beloved Cockney 
— with Scotch, with Irish, with French, with 
German, and with shrill American. 

The Denes, Rachel, Mr. Lystor, and Mrs. 
Hollis were in the front of the Grand Stand, which 
was thickly packed with human beings. Save for 
the fact that a Yorkshire horse was the first 
favourite, our friends had no interest beyond 
seeing the glorious strife for victory, and certainly 
they had nothing in common with the gentry 
below, amongst whom Ealph Hollis and his 
friends were busy backing the favourite against 
the field. 

Hitherto, upon all former occasions, Jack and 
Jabez had been content to gaze upon the race from 
the outer fringe ; to-day they had sprung a point, 
and paid their guinea apiece to enter the charmed 
circle, where they encountered Ealph, Fitzherbert, 
and his friends. 

Jabez felt ill-at-ease in such fashionable 
society ; so he made his way alone to the Stand. 
The plungers were civil to Jack, and Ralph gladly 
took him under his wing, simply to keep him away 
from Rachel. 

It was a delightful day, and Jack enjoyed the 
races. It was pleasant to be in the thick of the 
dazzling scene he had heretofore contemplated 
at a distance — to be in the paddock, and to rub 



THE FEAST OF ST. LEGER. 85 

sboulclers with all the great people — especially to 
be introduced to the famous Jockey, with -whom 
princes and dukes hobnobbed. 

By-and-by there was a hastily improvised 
luncheon, washed down by champagne ; and after 
that, a rough-and-ready race inaugurated the day's 
carnival. Jack didn't think much of that ; but 
after it came more champagne with cigars, and 
soda and brandies to follow. Then another descent 
into the ring ; then another raid upon the refresh- 
ment-room, more stimulants, and more cigars — a 
great deal more of them all than was good for Jack 
Heywood. 

Ealph and his friends were seasoned vessels. 
Jack was unused to the process, and it began to 
take effect. 

Back once more into the ring — back amongst a 
mob of howding ruffians, with books and pencils in 
their hands, and blasphemy in their mouths. To 
hear these fellows roar at each other, one would 
think Bedlam had broken loose amid a menagerie 
of wild beasts. 

Bright and handsome, full of life and excitement, 
Jack pushed his way through the ring. Looking 
up towards the Grand Stand, he saw the eyes of 
Eachel fixed upon him, and smiling merrily, he 
lifted his hat. At that moment he felt a hand 
upon his shoulder, and turning quickly, saw his 
foster-father. 

" Come away out 0' this, lad," said Jabez ; " 'tis 
no fit place for a decent lad. Let's gang home," 



86 RACHEL DENE, 

*' Gang borne ! " echoed Jack, with a laugh, " and 
before the sport has half begun ? Nay, not I ! 
Come along to the bar, and have a drink." 

Jabez shook his head. 

" Thou'st been tasting already, Jack. Remem- 
ber what I told you, and tak' no more. If you 
won't gang home, at least, come and speak to 
Miss Eachol. See, lad, she's beckoning fro' t' 
Grand Stand." 

Jack looked up again. Rachel was indeed 
beckoning, and, it seemed, to him. He took his 
friend's arm and pushed his way out of the ring ; 
made the best of his way until he came close to 
the group from Deepdale. 

" I hope thou art not wagering thy money, lad," 
said Jacob. ''Betting is a bad business, and 
unworthy of a decent man." 

" I am only looking on, sir," answered Jack. 
"Isn't it splendid? They say the Yorkshire 
favourite is to win." 

Then he leant over and talked to Rachel. 
Warmed with a glass or two of wine, he felt quite 
at his ease and familiar. As he laughed and 
chatted, the girl looked at him in some surprise. 
Glancing from his flushed, excited face, she met 
the sad, wistful eyes of Jabez Pryke. 

While this scene was taking place, two men 
stood watching it from the ring. One was Ralph 
Hollis ; the other was his friend and boon 
companion. Captain Fitzherbert, a man nearly 
ten years his senior, seasoned in all kinds of 



THE FEAST OF ST. LEGER, 87 

dissipation, and a thorough "plunger" by habit 
as well as disposition. The Captain was thick-set 
and strongly built, with a high-coloured com- 
plexion, a black moustache, black hair, a little 
thin at the top, and a coarse, determined mouth. 
He was dressed in the height of fashion, sported a 
white hat, and was literally covered with jewellery. 
"Look there, Fitz," said Ralph, in a voice thick 
with drink ; " that infernal workman again talking 
to Miss Dene ! They're whispering under the old 
Quaker's very nose. Ever since the fellow saved 
her life she has treated him as if he were a 
gentleman and an equal, though, at the best, he's 
only a confounded mechanic, working with his 

hands." 

"Jealous, eh?" returned the Captain, with a 
laugh. " Gad, you've reason ! Saved her life, 
did he ? Ah, yes ; I remember. You missed your 
best chance there, Ealph, my boy. Women like 
fellows of that sort, you know. Saved a woman's 
life myself out in India — widow woman— and, by 
George ! she proposed to me on the spot. But 
Fitz didn't see it — oh, dear, no ! " 

Quite unconscious of Ralph's baleful gaze upon 
them, Jack and Eachel continued to converse in 
whispers. Never had the maiden seemed so 
gracious, never had the young inventor looked so 

happy. 

" D n them ! " muttered Ealph Hollis. 

"Certainly," said Fitzherbert. "But come 
along, and have a drink, and leave them alone ; 



88 RACHEL DENE. 

— your rival's first favourite, and you're 
scratched ! " 

*' km. I ? " cried the young man, with a savage 
oath. "We'll see about that ! Fitz, the old man 
hates me, and encourages this fellow ! Only 
yesterday he took me aside and asked me to take 
example by young Heywood. Fancy that ! Take 
example by a common mechanic ! " 

** Humph ! An imcommon mechanic, I should 
say. I rather like the lad." 

" And I hate him ! There, they're shaking 
hands, and he's coming back to the ring. Listen 
to me, Fitz ! It's a matter of life or death to me 
now to put things right with Rachel, and this clod 
is the only human being in my way." 

They walked away together, eagerly conversing. 
Meantime, Jack Ileywood, hurrying from Eachel's 
side, drifted away with the crowd. His excitement 
had increased tenfold by the reception he had met 
with from the Denes. His face was radiant ; he 
could have leapt in the air. Laughing gaily, he 
pushed his way through the throng, again entered 
the ring, and at last came face to face with Ealph 
Hollis and Fitzherbert. 

" Ah, Heywood," cried Ealph, smiling. ** Better 
fun than the mills, eh ? Come and liquor up." 

** No, thank you," said the lad, hesitating. ** I 
promised Miss Dene " 

But Ealph Hollis took one arm, and Fitzherbert 
took the other. As they did so, thoy exchanged a 
Bignificant glance, 



THE FEAST OF ST LEGER. 89 

" Just one glass ! " said the Captain. " Come, 
we'll toast the great invention." 

Bewildered and excited, Jack suffered himself 
to be led away. His pride was flattered ; he felt 
himself a gentleman among gentlemen ; and, to 
speak the truth, he was pleased to be in such fine 
company. He glanced round, and saw no sign of 
Jabez, his self-appointed mentor; then, with a 
laugh, he accompanied his friends to the refresh- 
ment-room. 

Fitzherbert called for champagne. When the 
bottle was opened, he and Ealph took care to 
let Jack have the lion's share. Then, the lad, not 
to be outdone, insisted on ordering and paying for 
another bottle. Had he been a little sharper- 
sighted and more suspicious, he might have 
observed that his companions, always exchanging 
looks of meaning, spilt the greater part of their 
wine upon the grass. 

Jack was no tippler ; a little wine affected him ; 
and by this time he had drunk a large quantity. 
He began to talk loudly, and to clap Fitzherbert 
oh the shoulder as he sallied back into the ring. 

Above the Babel of sounds could be heard, 
" Two to one, bar one ! " and ** Fifty to one 
against the favourite ! " 

Jack believed in the Yorkshire horse— belief was 
loyalty to his native county. He yielded to the 
temptation, and, despite Mr. Dene's warning, 
began to bet. Unluckily, he had five and twenty 
pounds about him. He backed the favourite 



90 RACHEL DENE, 

against the field, with the result that he lost 
his money. 

Kalph Hollis, too, was betting furiously, and 
losing — indeed, scarcely knew himself what he 
had lost. He only knew one thing — that three 
weeks ago he had borrowed two hundred pounds 
from Fitzherbert, and that he had solemnly pro- 
mised to pay him the day after the Leger ; and, 
amidst the riot, the confusion, and the pande- 
monium, ho remembered that if this and other 
moneys were not paid on settling-day, disgrace, 
ruin, and all the rest of it might follow. But, in 
the midst of all his excitement, he still kept his 
eyes fixed on Jack Heywood. His plan had suc- 
ceeded to admiration. The drink, and the excite- 
ment, and the loss had been too much for the 
young workman. By this time he was quite drunk, 
and very quarrelsome. 

He had parted with his five and twenty pounds 
like a man, but the bookmaker insisted that he 
ov/ed five and twenty pounds more, which, indeed, 
he did, through some bungling in his betting. 

At this moment Jabez came up. 

When he saw the state of affairs he was ashamed, 
and, indeed, a little angered, to see his boy in so 
shameful a condition. 

" Jabez, old man," cried Jack, clutching his arm, 
" lend me five and twenty pounds." 

In his intoxication he fell back into broad 
Yorkshire. 

" What for ?" asked Jabez. 



THE FEAST OF ST. LEGER, 91 

*' Why, yon dog-faced rcshil says I owe it him, 
BO shell out t' brass." 

" My lad, I canuot. I havena got it." 

" What ! " cried the lad ; " art ilioii gone back 
on me ? Pretty chap thou art to stand by a friend 
in a hoyle ! Hang such friends ! Get out for an 
owd humbug ! " 

The unhappy lad had indeed *'put an enemy 
into his mouth to steal away his brains," and he 
let forth a flood of abuse upon his friend and more 
than father. The plungers quite enjoyed the 
scene, and added fuel to the fire by some not par- 
ticularly elegant chaff. The bookmaker alleged 
that he did not know Jack, and demanded that he 
should immediately *'pay up." 

Jabez demurred; the bookmaker swore that 
both Jack and his friend were " nobbut, more or 
less, nor a pair 0' welshers " — words of direful 
omen to a Yorkshireman. No sooner was it out of 
his lips than the bookmaker was on his back, while 
Jack strode over him, and requested him to get up 
to be knocked down again. 

The betting-man responded like a gamecock. 
He was up in an instant, and going for Jack. 
They rushed at each other like a pair of tigers, 
amidst yells of encouragement from the by- 
standers. 

At the height of this scandalous scene, the 
Denes, and Eachel, Mr. Lyster, and Mrs. Hollis, 
appeared, passing from the Grand Stand above. 
As Jack caught sight of them — above all, when 



92 RACHEL DENE. 

be caught sight of Eachel's eyes — her look of 
astonishment and disgust struck him -with a 
sudden shock of pain. She scarcely paused a 
moment in passing ; the next, she was gone ; but 
she had seen it all. 

As she passed forth, be said to the bookmaker, 
*' Hold hard. There's my watch ; it's worth nearly 
all thy brass. I'll send t' rest to-morrow." 

"Nay, lad," replied the betting-man; "I'm 
sure thou art a pluck'd un, and we Sheffield 
grinders allays like a mon better after we've fowt 
un. My name's Tom Yondal ; I'm to be found i' t' 
Pot Market, Sheffield, any time." 

Jack was angered with Eachel, with Ealph, with 
the bookmaker, with everybody — above all, with 
Jabez. Had Jabez only lent him that twenty-five 
pounds, this calamity would not have occurred. 
With the unreasoning fury of an unaccustomed 
drunkard, he blamed every cause but the right 
one. As he reeled along, elbowing his way through 
the crowd to the railway-station, his demeanour 
was so strange and wild as to attract universal 
attention. He was so aggressive and pugnacious, 
that had it not been for Jabez he would have 
reached the police-station instead of the railway- 
station. When at last, however, he got there, he 
dragged Jabez into the refreshment-room, made a 
grab at a bottle of champagne, dropped it, and 
smashed it to pieces. 

Then he snatched another, and knocked the 
neck off itj cutting his hand in the operation. 



THE FEAST OF ST. LEGER. 93 

Some of the Deepdale lads were tliere, and lie 
invited them to join him. 

" Sup, lads, sup. Now, lass," he continued, 
" serve out some brandy and soda — lots of it. 
That's your sort ! " 

Finding it useless to attempt to restrain him, 
Jabez went to see if he could find the station- 
master to induce him to reserve a compartment, 
so as to get the wretched lad home without further 
mischief. While bent on this errand, he came 
in contact with Jacob Dene, the vicar, and the 
ladies. 

There was no disguising from them the state of 
affairs; therefore, addressing his employer, Jabez 
said, '* I've nowt to say for t' poor lad, save that 
he's had more than is good for un, and that it has 
been given to un by them as owt to know better. 
He's ne'er bin so afore, and please God'll ne'er be 
BO agin. He's not only drunk, but mad — does na 
know what he's sayin' or doin'. Unless I can get 
him home, there'll be some mischief done. Please, 
Mr. Dene, gie us a good word wi' station-master to 
get t' lad in by hissen somewhere, if it be only in 
a horse-box." 

Angered as Jacob was, his regard for Jabez was 
so great, that he assented to his wishes, and, at 
his request, the station-master was induced, with 
some difficulty, to reserve a second-class compart- 
ment for Jabez, Jack, and half a dozen Deepdale 
lads. 

A very bad time they had of it until they got to 



94 RACHEL DENE. 

Barnolby Junction. Jack qimrrellecl with every- 
body in general, but with Jabez in particular. 
Once, indeed, he threatened to throw him out 
of the window. Drink had changed this genial, 
gentle, lovable creature from a man into a wild 
beast. 

At last, his drunken fury wore itself out for the 
time, and he fell into a stertorous sleep, which for- 
tunately lasted until they got to Barnolby Junction. 
Then Jabez drove him down to the mills, for he 
could not bear that Joan should see the lad in so 
sorry a condition. 

Meantime, young Hollis was being driven home 
from Barford by Fitzherbert in a high dog-cart 
belonging to the Captain. Both were well warmed 
with wine, and not a little excited, for Pialph had 
lost large sums that day, and Fitzherbert was 
clamorous for his money. 

''Make your mind easy," Ealph said; "I can 
get the money, and I'll pay you. After all, this is 
a good day's work for me.'" 

" How's that ? " growled the officer. 

" We doctored the favourite nicely ! Rachel 
and the old man saw it all. I don't think that 
young cub will be backed for a place again." 

Fitzherbert deposited his friend at the outskirts 
of Deepdale, and then turned his horse's head 
back towards Barford. It was now quite dark, and 
not a sound broke the stillness of the night. 

"About that money?" asked the Captain. 

" You shall have it. I'll come over to-morrow." 



AFTER THE LEGER. 95 

The Captain nodded, and drove rapidly awa5\ 
Ealpli Hollis walked on through the darkness in 
the direction of the mill. 



CHAPTER XL 

AFTER THE LEGER. 

For some years past Jabez had resided per- 
manently at the mills. He had a small living- 
room in the front or main building, and imme- 
diately above the cashier's office. Here every 
night he slept solitary and alone, ready for any 
emergency which might occur. From his high 
window could be seen, across a huge quadrangle, 
the factories, the engine-rooms, and the great 
warehouses in the rear. It was a lonely place by 
night, and the overseer's life was lonely; but 
Jabez Pryke, though he cared nothing for books, 
had constant company in his own gentle thoughts. 
His was an existence occupied with only two ideas 
— devotion to his duty as his master's servant, and 
love for the child of the woman sleeping in the 
neighbouring churchyard. Among the treasures 
in his barely furnished room was a picture of Jael, 
a rude photograph taken one day at Barford. It 
hung over his head, and night after night he raised 
his eyes to it as to some pictured saint. 

On that eventful night of the St. Leger, when 
he arrived before the mills, supporting in his strong 



95 RACHEL DENE. 

arms the half-insensible form of his foster-son, he 
found the great iron gate closed. He rang the 
gate-bell, and the dull clanging echoed dismally 
through the night, till at last a light appeared, 
and Joe Styles, the watchman, came, lantern in 
hand, to answer the summons. Behind him fol- 
lowed the great watch-dog Leo, a formidable 
mastiff-bitch. 

"Hullo, Jabez ! " cried the watchman, unlock- 
ing the gate, and swinging it open. *' Back at 
last?" 

" Ay, mate," answered the overseer. " Here, 
lend a hand, man ; I want to take Master Jack up 
to my room." 

"What's the matter wi' un?" asked Joe, with 
a grin. "I saw un up at Doncaster flinging t' 
brass about like mad. Ower much lemonade, I 
doubt ? " 

" The lad's ill, very ill. I canna tak un home 
i' this state. He's got to sleep here i' t' mills." 

*' All reet, Jabez," replied the watchman. 

It was no easy task to get Jack along. He 
was comatose, and though he moved his legs 
mechanically, his head and arms swung forward, 
and without powerful assistance he would have 
fallen. But the two strong men lifted him bodily, 
and carried rather than led him up the steep stone 
stairs till they reached the topmost landing, and 
drew him into the overseer's little room. Then, 
while Joe lit a candle, Jabez placed the boy in a 
chair. He sat there with ruffled hair, pallid face, 



AFTER THE LEGER. 97 

and eyes lialf-closed, feverishly mutteriug to him- 
self. One hand hung by his side like lead, the 
other was thrust into his breast. The old watch- 
dog, who knew him well, kept close, and licked the 
hanging hand. 

The watchman, a grim, grizzled veteran, stood 
looking on, and, holding up the lantern, flashed 
the light into his face. 

" Poor lad, he's had his bellyful ! " he said, 
half amused and half shocked. ** Say, Jabez, 
Jem Wright t' stoker's sitting out wi' me i' the 
engine-house, and we ha' a bottle 0' good stuff 
yonder. Will ye come and take a sup ? " 

" No ! " cried Jabez, fiercely. " Curse t' drink ! 
Curse them that make it, and them that sell it ! 
See what it's done this neet ! " 

** Sure enough ; but lad'll be reet i' the morn- 

ing." 

"He'll ne'er be reet again!" answered Jabez, 
with a groan, like a deep sob. ** Lea' us together ; 
I'll stop wi' him, and put him to bed." 

The watchman nodded, and left the room, fol- 
lowed by the mastiff. The moment he had gone, 
Jabez turned and locked the door ; then, uttering 
a low cry, knelt by the lad's side, and burst into 
tears. 

" Jack, Jack, my lad ! " he cried. " Won't 'ee 
speak to me ? 'Tis me — Jabez ! Look up, lad, 
look up ! " 

But Jack made no sign ; he still sat in a state 
of collapse, murmuring vacantly to himself. Then 

n 



98 RACHEL DENE. 

tenderly, like a woman, Jabez took off his coat 
and waistcoat, relieved him of his necktie and 
collar, and, raising him bodily, placed him upon the 
bed. He fell there like a log, with a low, suffocating 
moan. 

Jabez bent over him, and looked into his face. 

"'Tis strange," he said to himself; "I ha* 
seen many a mon o'erta'en wi' the cursed drink, 
but ne'er a one like this ! He's more like a mon 
death-struck wi' poison ! Poor lad ! Poor lad ! " 

"Water ! " moaned Jack, as if gasping for 
breath. 

Jabez moistened his parched lips, and laid his 
head gently back upon the pillow. As he did so, 
he saw the picture of Jael hanging over the head 
of the bed. 

" I promised to be a feyther to un," he cried, 
stretching out his arms to the picture, while the 
great tears rolled down his cheeks, " and I'll keep 
my word. I ha' been a lonely man for thy sake, 
Jael, but now thou hast gien me a son — thy living 
image, wi' the same blue een and bonny golden 
hair. Oh, my lass— my lass! just as your face 
looked when we found thee dying i' t' snow is t' 
lad's this neet ! " 

Then, mastered by his emotion, he sank on 
his knees by the bedside, and praj^ed aloud. 
Prayer more unselfish, more solemn and touching, 
never rose from the lips of man. And as he 
prayed, he took the boy's clammy hand, which 
Knig loose on the coverlet, and kissed it again and 



AFTER THE LEGER, 99 

again. In bis own name, in the name of his ovai 
love and sorrow, he asked God to pardon the lad 
for his folly that day ; to watch over and preserve 
him from future temptation ; to keep from his lips 
the poison of drink; to strengthen him against 
all evil ; to make him a happy man, and to crown 
him with honour and prosperous days. Lastly, 
with an infinite tenderness, he interceded for a 
happy sequel to the lad's love for Eachel Dene. 

"Lord, Lord, turn not the lass's heart against 
un, but be kinder to my lad than Thou hast been 
to me ! Keep him fro' lonesomeness like mine, 
and answer his prayer wi' life and love ! " 

Strong feeling makes even rough men eloquent, 
and Jabez uttered his thoughts as if inspired. 
Then rising to his feet, he looked down on Jack 
with unutterable affection, for all the time it was 
still Jael's face that he saw before him now, as he 
had seen it the night she came home to die. 

It was now getting late, and Jabez had still to 
get down to the cottage, and break the news to the 
old people. So, with one last look at the heavily- 
sleeping lad, he left the room, closing the door 
stiffly behind him. 

" He'll be reet enough till I come back," he 
muttered, " and I'll watch by his side all t' neet, 
poor lad, poor lad ! 'Twill be a bitter wakening 
for him to-morrow morn." 

Descending the dark stairs, he passed the offices 
below, and came out upon the courtyard, and 
reaching the gate, opened it with his master key. 



I DO RACHEL DENE. 

which he had taken down from a nail in the room 
above. He was soon out in the open street, facing 
wind and rain, for it was a stormy night. Looking 
up at the mill building as he passed, he saw the 
windows all dark and desolate, and wafted another 
blessing to the lad lying asleep within. 

His way lay through the town, and close past 
the churchyard. As he passed the shadow of the 
church, he ran up against a man. 

"Confound you!" cried a voice; "where the 
deuce are you rushing ? Who are you, eh ? " 

"Jabez Pryke," answered the overseer. "Is 
it thee, Master Ealph ? " 

" Yes. Where are you bound ? " 

"Down to Gaffer Heywood's cottage, sir." 

"I thought you slept at the mill," said Ralph. 
" By the way, how's young Hopeful ? Have you 
taken him home ? " 

" Nay, sir ; he be lying asleep i' my room at 
t' mill. I'm going to tell the gaffer where he is, 
and then come back and look after un till morning." 

"I see," returned Ealph, with a laugh. "I 
say, wasn't he awfully screwed ? Never saw a man 
so gone in my life ! How did it happen ? " 

"Maybe you can tell that better than me," said 
Jabez, significantly. " Though t' poor lad was 
o'erta'en, he's sober and hard-working, and never 
came to this pass before." 

"Well, good night," cried Ealph, moving away. 

"Good neet," replied Jabez, coldly. "You'll 
say nowt o' this to t' master ? " 



AFTER THE LEGER, loi 

"I'm afraid he knows all about it, for everybody 
saw the lad in his mad fit. However, if I can put 
in a good word for him, I will ! " 

Leaving Jabez Pryke to make the best of his 
way down to the cottage, Ealph Hollis hurried on 
eagerly in the direction of the mill. Once or 
twice he paused and listened, but everything was 
still, and not a soul was in the street. In a few 
minutes he reached the street where the mill 
buildings were situated, and stood looking up, as 
Jabez had done, to the dark, dismal windows. 
The light of the lamp suspended over the gate fell 
upon his face, which was wild and pale as death. 
He was still excited with the drink he had taken 
during the day, and he shook like a leaf. 

Drawing a flask from the breast-pocket of hia 
great-coat, he took a long draught. Then, 
approaching the gate, and touching it with his 
outstretched hands, he peered in. All was dark 
and silent. Suddenly, as he leaned against the 
gate, it opened. 

"The gate is unlocked!" he muttered, with a 
low cry of surprise. " That's unfortunate, but it 
shows the old fool will hasten back. If the thing 
is to be done, there is not a moment to lose ! " 

But his knees knocked together, and he trembled 
from head to foot. Another draught at the flask 
steadied him a little. For a minute yet he stood 
hesitating. 

** It's sink or swim ! If I don't pay up to- 
morrow everything will come out; and even if I 



102 RACHEL DENE, 

am discovered, Jacob Dene will never send me to 
gaol. Curse the money ! but I must have it, and 
I know it's ilicre ! By God, I'll do it ! " 

He crept into the yard, and approached the 
stairs leading to the cashier's office. He paused 
and listened again; there was not a sound, save 
the moaning of the wind, and the pattering of the 
rain. Groping his way up the stairs, he reached 
the first floor. As he paused there, a low moaning 
sound broke upon the ear, coming from the rooms 
above. 

"Heywood! I forgot him!'* thought Ralph. 
"I must see if he is awake; if he is, and recog- 
nizes me, I can soon frame an excuse for being 
here." 

He went on from stair to stair till he reached 
the top floor, and paused outside the room where 
Jack was lying. He knocked softly; there was 
no answer. Then he quietly opened the door, and 
peeped in. Jack lay tossing on the bed with his 
eyes closed, muttering incoherently, seeing and 
hearing nothing. 

Ealph drew the door to, and slipt again down 
the stairs. 



( 103 ) 
CHAPTER XII. 

JABEZ PEYKE's vigil. 

It was getting late when Jabcz Pryke readied the 
cottage, but there was a light in the window, and, 
entering without ceremony, he found the old 
couple sitting up by the parlour fire. Jasper lay 
back in his armchair, nursing his gouty knee, 
while Joan, spectacles on nose, sat at the table 
leaning on her elbows, and reading out of a news- 
paper some days old. She looked up as J-ibez 
entered, and greeted him by name. 

" Is it thee, Jabez ? Welcome back, lad. But 
Where's Jack?" 

"Jack's not coming home t' neet," answered 
the overseer, quietly. "I left him yonder at t' 
mill." 

"At t' mill!" echoed the old woman. Then, 
startled by the strange expression on Jabez's face, 
she added, " Summat's wrong. Speak out, Jabez 
Pryke!" 

" It's nowt, grannie ! " he replied, forcing a 
smile. " Come, let me sit down, and I'll tell thee 
all about it." 

" Ay, sit down," said Jasper, hospitably. " Sit 
down, lad, and tell us about t' Leger." 

But as Jabez took a seat by the fire, Joan rose 
angrily to her feet. 

'• T' Leger ! " she cried. ** Hark to t' owd fool—- 



I04 RACHEL DENE. 

he thinks o' nowfc but racing and siccan folly. But 
I want to hear about Jack. Summat's wrong, I 
say. No humbugging, Jabez ! " 

" Nay, grannie." 

" Thou mayst humbug Jasper theer, but 't won't 
do wi' me. Look me in t' face, Jabez. AYhat's 
come to our lad ? Where hast left him ? " 

** As I told thee," answered Jabez. *' At t' mill, 
sound asleep in my bed." 

" And why hast left him iliecr ? " 

Jabez answered again, not lifting his eyes. 

**Well, then, he were a bit lively — he took a 
glass o'er much ; and — and — I thought it best he 
should bide at t' mill till he came to hissen." 

Jasper emitted a low whistle, Joan an indignant 
exclamation. 

^' Dnmk, d'ye mean?" she cried. 

"Well, a bit excited like," said the overseer. 
" He was put out about t' favourite, and got 
tasting with his friends, and — and — well, lads will 
be lads, and 'tis nobbut once in t' year." 

Though he forced a smile, and tried to speak 
lightly, his face belied his words. His heart felt 
cold and dead within him, and he was miserable 
and ashamed. The old woman, watching him 
keenly, saw that the affair was serious. 

"He must ha' been bad indeed," she cried, "if 
he couldna come home." 

Jabez made no reply, but Jasper here took up 
the thread of talk. 

"Jabez is reet. If t' lad did get merry, 'tis 



JABEZ PRYKE'S VIGIL. 105 

nobbut once a year. Lord, I ba' been tbat way 
my sen, many a time ! " 

** Jack's not like //jec," snapped bis wife— 
''an idle, foolisb owd man, thinking 0' nowt but 
idling and drinking, and smoking t' pipe in a 
corner." 

" Thankee, wife," returned Jasper, with a grin. 

"Nay, Jack comes 0' better stuff; and if be 
were overta'en, there's been some foul play, I 
wager. Come, Jabez Pryke, I'll ha' the truth. 
Tell it out like a man ! " 

Thus urged, the overseer gave a somewhat rose- 
coloured but fairly truthful account of what had 
occurred ; described the scene in the betting-ring, 
the meeting with Pachel and the Denes, the 
encounter with Fitzherbert and Ealph Hollis, and 
the other occurrences of that eventful day. 

The moment he mentioned Ealph's name, Joan 
interrupted him with a cry. 

''Drinking wi' Ealph Hollis? Then 'tis young 
maister's doing ! I was sure there was foul play 
in't. And Miss Eachel ? Did she see him when 
the poor lad was o'erta'en like that ? " 

"Ay, grannie," answered Jabez; "that's the 
worst on't. Miss Eachel seed him, and so did all 
our folk. I tried my beet to quiet un, but 'twas a 
useless job." 

"When t' drink's in, t' wit's out," observed 
Jasper, sententiously. 

"Hold thy tongue!" cried Joan. "Ay, I see 
it all. 'Twas Ealph Hollis that made our lad 



io6 RACHEL DENE. 

drink, and maybe put some stuff i' the glass to 
steal away his brains." 

"Nay, nay, grannie," said Jabez; "he'd ne'er 
do that ! " 

" I tell 'ee I know un. He'd gie his reet hand 
to shame Jack in Miss Eachel's een. Ay, he's 
a bad un, is Ealph Hollis, and comes o' a bad 
stock. My poor lad! who ne'er takes a sip o' 
liquor from one week's end to 'nother ! I'd ne'er 
believe 't, Jabez, if thee hadna said it wi' thy 
own lips." 

Poor Jabez heard the reproach, and for the first 
time in his life felt as if he had acted disloyal to 
the boy he loved so much. Yet what could he 
do? He was incapable of a lie, and he knew, 
moreover, that Jack was sure of gentle judgment, 
of tender sympathy in that house. And after all, 
as he had said, it was but a single slip. One rainy 
day does not make a flood; and one escapade, 
however wild, would not convert the boy into a 
drunkard. The fault could not be hidden now 
from any one ; it would be redeemed by the future, 
and perhaps be a fruitful warning. 

Yet there was a load upon his heart which he 
could not shake away. The shock had shaken him 
more strangely than he ^^tl^Fav^^ought pos- 
sible ; the boy's downfall seemed his own death- 
blow. 

" Cheer up," chirped Jasper, " The lad '11 be 
all reet i' t' morning. Joan, gie Jabez a cup o* 
our ale ; he's soaken wi' t' rain." 



..# 



JABEZ PRYKBS VIGIL. 107 

** Nay, Jasper," returned the overseer ; *' no ale 
for me. I shall taste nobbut water fro' this day, 
and if t' lad's "wise he'll do t' same." 

"Amen to that!" said Joan. "Drink's the 
scaith 0' t' world, and has killed more brave lads 
than e'er fell i' bloody wars." 

Jasper was dying to know about the St. Leger, 
but in the presence of his wife he didn't dare to 
speak. Fond of a glass himself, he thought that 
a precious bit of trouble was being made out of a 
very small affair. With Joan it was altogether 
different. Through a grave woman's intuitive per- 
ception she knew that Jack's conduct was at once 
alarming and mysterious. He was not like other 
lads ; his whole life had been one steady progress 
upwards, and though on one or two occasions of 
late he had been a little merry, he had never made 
his folly a public exhibition, or quite taken leave 
of his sober senses. She saw, too, that Jabez 
Pryke was deeply agitated and concerned, and she 
suspected, as was the case, that he made the best 
of a picture necessity compelled him to draw of 
the lad's escapade. 

The worst of the whole business was that the 
Denes were aware of what had taken place. 
Eager to see the fulfilment of her prophesies 
concerning her grandson and Eachel Dene, poor 
Joan had began to dread a castle in the air. For 
the first time in her life, Rachel had seen the 
young workman to serious disadvantage, excited 
by drink, quarrelsome, reckless, transported out 



loS RACHEL DENE. 

of his usual gentle self. It ^^'as a bad day's 
business. 

Jabez rose to go. 

"I'll get back," be said. *' I only came down 
to let thee know the lad was safe wi' me." 

" I ha' a mind to gang wi' thee," returned Joan, 
sadly. 

" Nay, bide here, granny ; he's all reet in my 
bed, and I'll come down when he wakes i' the 
morning." 

Eager to prevent even Joan from seeing her 
grandson in his physical and moral degradation, 
Jabez succeeded in persuading her to remain where 
she was. Besides, it was an ugly night, and it was 
a goodish stretch to the mill. He shook hands 
with Jasper, and then, bending over Joan, kissed 
her on the forehead. 

"It's nowt, grannie, it's nowt," he said. "I'll 
go bail for our lad, he'll ne'er forget hissen again ; 
and after all, lads will be lads." 

He left her sitting in a brown study, tears in 
her kindly old eyes, which were fixed on the fire. 
Was it, she thought, a castle in the air, after 
all ? Was Jack no hero, and she no prophetess, 
and would there never be the wedding of which she 
had long dreamed ? Hopeful by nature, and full 
of faith in human nature, she soon began to 
brighten. Jasper was right. Jasper had been no 
saint, and yet he had been the best of husbands. 
As for Jack, he had his wild oats to sow, and it 
was just because he was so good that she had been 



JABEZ PRYKE'S VIGIL. 109 

shocked by the account of his backsHding. By- 
and-by, encouraged by her change of manner, 
Jasper put in another word, and this time his wife 
thought he spoke hke a sensible man. AVhen they 
rose to go to bed, they were both of a mind. Jack 
was a hero still, and that little affair of the 
wedding was bound to come right. 

Meantime Jabez Pryke walked back to the town 
through the darkness and the rain. He did not 
hasten, though it was getting very late, and, full 
of his own disappointment, he was indifferent to 
the weather. Argue with himself as he might, he 
could not shake av/ay the gloom which oppressed 
him. He had felt more passionately stirred on 
more than one occasion, but never so cheerless 
and depressed. His heart was like lead. Could 
it be that the shadow of some dreadful calamity 
was already upon him? If psychology be true, 
that was possible. 

He passed the churchyard, and, instead of turn- 
ing into the town, walked on towards The Oaks, 
and, full of some irresistible impulse, looked up at 
the house of the Denes. The house was dark, but 
a light burned in one of the upper windows. A 
shadow crossed the blind, and he recognized it was 
the shadow of Eachel Dene. 

With the rain streaming upcn his world-worn 
face, he watched the shadow come and go, and 
prayed that God might be pitiful, and not turn the 
maiden's heart against his boy. He would have 
liked to enter and stand before her, and plead 



ixo RACHEL DENE. 

poor Jack's cause, explaining his faults away. 
His instinct told him that she would be a partial 
listener. He had more dread of the stern old 
Quaker, Jacob Dene. Proud to the backbone, and 
severe on human error, Jacob would be certain to 
take the worst view of the case. 

Sighing heavily, he turned back into the dark- 
ness, and walked slowly to the mill. 

Alone in her chamber, daintily furnished with 
every luxury that love and wealth can give, Rachel 
sat before her mirror, thinking. Her hair flowed 
down in a shower of gold over her loose dressing- 
gown, and her bare feet were thrust into satin 
slippers. She had dismissed her maid for the 
night, and was quite alone. 

All the evening she had been distraught and 
sad, for her thoughts had been constantly with the 
lad who had once saved her life. Up till that day 
she had thought of him with kindness, had been 
tender and grateful to him, eager for his success, 
hopeful of his future, but she had been unconscious 
of any stronger feeling towards him than one of 
womanly sympathy. Now it was quite different. 
The very shock she had received on witnessing his 
degradation had opened her eyes, and she knew, 
for the first time, how deep a lolace he had in her 
young heart. 

Jacob Dene had loudly expressed his indignation 
— on the way home, at the dinner-table, in the 
drawing-room after dinner — and she had been 



JADEZ PRYKE'S VIGIL. \\i 

unable to say a word in Jack's defence, for she, 
too, in spite of her ne^Yly-discovered affection, was 
indignant. She could not shut away the sight she 
had seen — the wild, flushed face, the struggling 
form, the laughing crowd, the whole horrible scene 
in the ring at Doncaster. Even in his madness, 
however. Jack Heywood had looked a splendid 
fellow, and he had never seemed so handsome 
in her eyes. Hitherto he had appeared a little 
commonplace, somewhat too uniformly good and 
virtuous, with all the rough worth and steadiness 
of the dull mechanic ; and Eachel, Quakeress as 
she was, and innocent to the iinger-tips, had been 
inclined to patronize him. Now, he seemed another 
being — wickeder and wilder, of course, and more 
dangerous. The best of women love a man who 
can be reckless upon occasion, and Eachel was no 
exception to the rule. She was shocked, she was 
offended, she was amazed, she was intensely 
indignant. But she was in love ! 

She sat before the glass, looking wistfully at 
herself, and thinking it all over. Her thoughts 
went back to the time when she and Jack were the 
poor siege-children, transplanted from India to 
grow in Deepdale. She remembered Jack as a 
boy, and afterwards as a bright, handsome lad, 
whom she had almost looked upon as a brother. 
All along she had been conscious of his timid 
worship ; but never until to-day had she realized 
the sentiment which had been slowly growing in 
her own heart. The dawning of love in a young 



113 RACHEL DENE. 

maid's heart is like the rosy flush of sunrise on 
a summer dawn, when the leaves stir, the birds 
begin to sing, and the air is full of a dewy sense 
of joy. Full of her own loveliness, the warmth 
of her own life, she felt her indignation die away 
in a new sense of luxur}'^, of yearning. She would 
have liked to have gone to Jack that very minute, 
and comforted him, and made him promise never 
to go wrong again. He was so bright, so clever ; 
the world was beginning so well for him ; and yet 
he was in trouble. Love and pity struggled within 
her, and for the time being, in spite of moral 
indignation, in spite of surprise and sorrow, the 
lad's cause was won. 

" How foolish I am ! " she thought. " I ought 
to be very angry, for he looked dreadful, and 'tis 
a shame indeed to see a man so degrade himself 
before the world. I thought him so gentle and 
quiet, too ! No wonder grandpapa was shocked ! 
When I see Jack he shall know that I am very 
angry!" 

But, in a little while, she smiled at herself in 
the glass, and murmured, softly, " Poor fellow ! " 



( 113 ) 
CHAPTER XIII. 

UP AT THE MILL. 

The rain was falling fast, and Joe Styles, the 
^vatcllmau, after taking bis accustomed rounds, 
which he did every two hours, was sitting in the 
engine-room, smoking his pipe, and playing a 
hand at cribbage with Jem Wright, the stoker, 
who was, of course, off duty. The watch-dog, Leo, 
lay fast asleep at his master's feet. 

Both Styles and Wright had been to pay their 
respects at the shrine of St. Leger, and were full 
of the events of the day. 

Both had lost in the mill sweepstakes, and both 
were considerably vexed at the defeat of the 
favourite. They kept a pretty sharp look-out on 
the game, though, and it was only during the 
intervals of dealing that they compared notes. 

"Well, well," observed Styles; "hasn't Jack 
Hey wood got his cargo aboard ! " 

" I never heerd o' un i' that way afore," replied 
Wright. 

" Nor I either. He'll ha' an awful head on him 
i' t' mornin'. It's nowt to say he was screwed; 
he was clean daft. Well, t' lad will be sore 'shamed 
o' hissen to-morrow — that is, if he remembers owt 
about it. First game to me, Jem. It's thy deal, 
lad. Gie us a bit o' baccy while I mek cards for 
thee." 

At this moment the clock struck twelve. 



114 RACHEL DENE, 

Just upon the last stroke Jabez reached the mill. 
As he got outside the quadrangle, looking up, he 
saw a light in the counting-house. 

Now, a light there after business hours was 
unusual, hut a light there at midnight was extra- 
ordinary'. 

" It canna be Styles," muttered Jabez ; " he has 
no means o' gettin' in. Except t' gaffer, no one 
has the pass-key— nobbut mysen." 

Quick as lightning it flashed through his mind 
that many heavy remittances had arrived by that 
morning's post, and that, in consequence of every- 
body hurrying off to Barnolby to catch the train, 
they might not have been paid into the bank. 

"Anyhow," he continued, "the safe's all reet, 
for I've got t' key here i' my pocket." 

To his horror, he found that he had lost his 
bunch of keys. 

Then it occurred to him that, in his haste to get 
away— for Jack was dreadfully afraid they would 
miss the train — he had left the keys behind him. 

For a moment the thought paralyzed him. It 
seemed as if he had been guilty of a criminal 
negligence, amounting almost to a breach of trust. 
Suppose a robber, a burglar, should have found 
his way to the counting-house ? 

He grasped his stick firmly, and disappeared 
rapidly down the passage which led to the con- 
geries of offices amongst which the counting-house 
was situated. Without thinking of alarming the 
watchman, he passed alone up the stairs. 



UP AT THE MILL. 115 

Meanwhile, fortune had been favourable to Jem 
Wright in the contest at cribbage, which was still 
going on at the engine-house. 

** Fifteen two, fifteen four, fifteen six, a pair's 
eight, a pair's ten, and one for his nob's eleven. 
Game, Joe." 

** Well, that's game and game ; now for the 
conqueror, and I'll gang home. Tak' three while 
I deal." 

As Styles proceeded to deal the cards, a loud 
cry, loud like a human cry, startled the players to 
their feet. It startled the dog, too, who leaped up, 
emitting a fierce growl. 

" Jem," said Styles, dropping the cards, " there's 
murder goiu' on somewhere, lad ! " 

"It's a man a-callin'," responded the other. 
"If it had been a woman, now, I'd ha' thowt 
nought about it. Happen some chap might ha' 
been purrin' her a bit to keep her in order, and 
they wenches are apt to cry out afore theer 
hurt ! " 

Again came the cry, this time shriller than 
before ; again Leo growled ominously. 

" It's in t' mill, lad ! Bear a hand, and stir thy 
stumps," said Styles ; " and bring wi' thee yon 
crowbar — it may be useful." 

So saying, they started for the front side of the 
mill — the side from whence the sounds arose. 
They reached the quadrangle. Once more came 
the voice, getting feebler and feebler still. 

f* Sure as death," said Styles, "that's Jabez 



ii6 RACHEL DENE. 

Pryke's voice, if ever Jabez spoke. Let's put on 
steam, or we may be too late." 

As they rapidly crossed the quadrangle, they 
heard above them the tramp of struggling feet, the 
noise of furniture being overturned, and of men 
engaged in a deadly strife. 

Looking up, they saw, in a confused mass, the 
shadows of two struggling human figures cast upon 
the lighted window-blind of the counting-house. 
Evidently two men were intertwined together in a 
death-struggle. 

The watchers stood paralyzed for a moment; 
but as the dog leaped up, barking furiously, the 
shadows melted away like a dissolving view. Then 
they took a new shape. One figure stood erect 
and alone, with arms thrust forth in defence or 
defiance, while the other, recoiling from the fierce 
impact, staggered backward, and vanished from 
view. Simultaneously arose a terrible sound — a 
shrill, piercing cry, like that of a dying horse in 
the last moments of its agony, when torn to 
pieces by shot or shell upon some bloody battle- 
field; then came the dull, heavy thud of a 
falling body, then silence, for even the dog 
trembled and crouched in terror at his master's 

heel. 

The weird phantasmagoria we have endeavoured 
to describe barely occupied thirty seconds; but 
Buch seconds ! 

As the solitary figure above stood erect and 
motionless, with arms uplifted, a colossal silhouette 



UP AT THE MILL. 117 

of despair, or remorse, or both, the watchman and 
the stoker had arrived beneath the window. 

The one took out his revolver and examined it 
carefully in the moonlight, and grasped Leo by 
the collar, while the other shouldered his crowbar, 
and both men and dog disappeared noiselessly up 
the dark, tortuous passage before them. 

It took them a minute or two to thread their 
way through the darkness before they could reach 
the corridor on the first floor, where they were 
brought to a halt by the sound of a voice exclaim- 
ing, in agonizing tones, *'0h, Jabez, Jabez, 'tis I 
who have killed thee ! " 

At the sound, the mastiff struggled to get free. 

Eeleasing him. Styles said, " Good lad, go for 
un ! Hi, lad, go ! " 

Growling fiercely, with eyes aflame, and bristling 
hair, the dog sprang into the counting-house. 

The men without waited anxiously for what 
might come, for, when roused, Leo was a ferocious 
brute. To their astonishment his yells of defiance 
subsided into a howl so pathetic, that it reminded 
Joe (who had served in the constabulary in the 
sister isle) of the plaintive wailing of women at an 
Irish keening. 

They stayed to hear no more, but burst into the 
room. 

What a sight it was that met their eyes ! 

The safe, thrown wide open, appeared to have 
been rifled; the cash-box lay overturned on the 
floor, and its contents — coin, drafts, and bank- 



ii8 RACHEL DENE. 

notes — were scattered in reckless confusion in 
every direction ; the scanty furniture was over- 
turned and broken; while midst the debris, with 
white face, and glaring eyes, and gashed temples, 
lay Jabez Pryke, stone dead, in a pool of blood. 

Over the body stood Jack Hey wood. 

He was half dressed, and seemed wholly 
demented. 

His shirt and his hands were bedabbled with 
blood, his hair stood up erect, and his eyes were 
starting from his head. The dog lay whining and 
shivering at his feet ; while, utterly regardless of 
the men's appearance. Jack continued to bewail 
the murdered man, with tears and cries, and sobs 
of half-stupefied remorse. 

Finding it impossible to obtain any coherent or 
rational statement from him, Styles despatched 
the stoker to ring the alarm bell, while he, still 
gripping his revolver, continued to mount guard. 
A minute afterwards the bell rang out through the 
storm, startling hill and dale. 



CHAPTEE XIV. 

THE DEAD MAN. 

The bell rang out in the night, high above the 
shrill crying of the wind, startling every dwelling 
in Deepdale, and sounding far away across the 
lonely rain-beaten moor. In an incredibly short 



THE DEAD MAN, iiQ 

space of time the streets and lanes were thronged 
with masses of people surging towards the mill in 
a murmuring stream. 

" What's t' matter ? " " Hast t' reservoir bust 
up at t' head, or is t' mill afire?" ''Who's 
ringing t' bell ? " " Hark yonder ! " " This way 
— this way ! " were some of the cries that rose 
upon the night. 

The throng swept in at the mill gate, and filled 
the great quadrangle. Men, women, lads and 
lasses, little children, confusedly mixed together. 
They saw with wonder the lights in the upper 
windows of the main building ; they heard the bell 
shrieking high above them ; and while the rain 
swept down upon them, and the wind moaned, 
they were moving towards the passage leading 
upward, when the bell suddenly ceased, and the 
figure of the stoker appeared before them crying, 
*' Silence ! keep back, lads ! " And in answer to 
their questioning cries, he added, "It's murder, 
lads ! T' overseer's Ij^ing up yonder, dead ! " 

Then, in spite of his warnings, they flocked up 
the stair, and the foremost among them rushing 
into the room, saw Jack Heywood standing over 
the overseer's dead body moaning and wailing, 
while the dog crouched at his feet, and the watch- 
man looked on aghast. From those who crowded 
into the room, to those who ranged outside, from 
the counting-house to the quadrangle, from the 
quadrangle to the street, and on through the little 
town, the news spread like wild-fire. Murder had 



120 RACHEL DENE. 

been done ! Jabez Pryke bad been killed up at 
tbe mill, and young Jack Heywood had been taken 
almost red-banded in the act. 

Had he been any other than Jack Heywood he 
would have been torn to pieces by the mob ; but 
he was too well known and too beloved, and those 
who knew them could scarcely believe their eyes 
or ears. So, when the constables appeared pushing 
their way through the throng, and had their hands 
upon him, there was a murmur of wonder, almost 
of indignation. Eapidly and breathlessly the 
watchman panted out his story, and told all that 
he had heard or seen. Jack listened as if dazed, 
but when the constables seized him he uttered a 
shriek, and tried to tear himself free. 

At this juncture Jacob Dene ai)peared, looking 
white and stern. Told the whole terrible truth, 
he gazed at the wretched lad, saying, "I warned 
thee, Jack Heywood. This comes of the drink 
that made thee mad at Doncaster. Thou hast 
slain thy best friend." 

"Jabez, Jabez ! " shrieked Jack, gazing in horror 
and despair on the dead man. 

There was no doubt; he was dead indeed. A 
doctor, summoned in haste, pronounced life to bo 
quite extinct. Horrified and awe-stricken, the 
crowd looked on, while the constables handcuffed 
their prisoner, in spite of his appealing cries. 

Suddenly there came another sound, the shriek 
of a woman. Wild, ghastly, tottering, Joan 
Heywood pushed her way into the counting-house 



THE DEAD MAN. 121 

like one demented; but when she saw the man, 
who had parted from her full of lusty life only an 
hour before, lying dead upon the floor ; when she 
beheld the other, whom she loved dearer than her 
own life, standing there with hair and hands 
bedabbled with blood, she fell wailing upon her 
knees, and with outstretched arms besought her 
grandson to prove his innocence of a crime so 
hideous. Dazed and stupefied. Jack ceased to 
struggle, and looked at her wildly ; then, with a 
mad cry, he hid his face in his hands and sobbed 
aloud. 

That night was one long remembered in Deep- 
dale. Men and women thronged the streets till 
daybreak, discussing the terrible event. Hitherto, 
in that happy valley, crime of any serious kind 
had been almost unknown ; and now, for the first 
time, the peaceful spell was broken by a deed so 
horrible, so infamous, as almost to transcend belief. 

Meantime Ralph Hollis had let himself in with 
his latchkey, and gone to bed at once. When the 
news of the murder reached the Vicarage, as it did 
before many hours had passed, Mrs. Hollis tried 
her son's door and found it locked; then she 
knocked softly, but received no reply. 

"Poor lad, he is tired out!" she said. "Let 
him rest till the morning — it will be time enough 
to tell him then." 

But Ralph Hollis knew too well alrcad3\ Crouch- 
ing in his chamber, he had heard the tolling bell. 



132 RACHEL DENE. 

the tumult, the alarm ; and peering from his 
window he saw the lights moving about the town, 
and the whole place awake. Towards daybreak 
he fell into a troubled sleep, broken by bad dreams. 
He was awakened by a knocking at his door, and 
opening his eyes, saw the daylight streaming in at 
the window. 

" Ealph ! " cried his mother's voice. " Are you 
awake?" 

" Yes, mother." 

** There has been murder at the mill. Jabez 
Pryke, the overseer, has been killed by young 
Hey wood. Get up at once ! " 

He heard her descend the stairs, and staggered 
from his bed, his eyes wild, his face blanched and 
terror-stricken. Instinctively he moved to the 
glass, and shuddered at the reflection mirrored 
there. His head went round, his brain was still 
full of the fumes of drink, and he could hardly 
realize what had occurred. When he did so, he 
sank as if paralyzed on his knees by the bedside, 
and hid his face in his hands. Nearly an hour 
passed thus, when he was disturbed by a second 
knocking at his door, and started up, trembling 
like a leaf. 

" Ealph, are you ready ? " cried the voice. 

"I am dressing, mother ! " 

His parched and bloodless lips could hardly 
frame the words. 

" Let me in ! I mmt speak to you ! " 

He hesitated for a moment, then conquering 



THE DEAD MAN. 123 

himself with an effort, he opened the door. To 
his surprise, his mother, scarcely looking into his 
face, threw her arms wildly around his neck. 

"Mother, is it true," he gasped, "that the 
overseer " 

"Yes, he has been murdered, and the whole 
place is in alarm ! " she replied. Then, looking 
into his face and seeing it so white and bloodless, 
she added, " No wonder you are horrified ! It is 
terrible ! Young Heywood did it, and has been 
arrested ! " 

" My God ! " he murmured. 

" But it is not that which has brought me back 
again. Oh, Ealph ! I am sorry, very sorry, for 
Algy, but I cannot forget that he was always so 
unkind to you, my darling! " 

" What do you mean ? " cried Ralph, 

" Eead that ! " she answered, putting a telegram 
into his hand. With eyes dim, and head swimming 
round, he read as follows : — 

" To Ralph, Earl of Beauchamp, the Vicarage, 
Deepdale. 

"My Lord, 

"Y'our uncle died this morning, at 
two o'clock. I await your lordship's commands. 

"Richard Barkins." 



124 RACHEL DENE, 

CHAPTER XV. 

THE INQUEST. 

Although Jack Heywood was a general favourite, 
opinion at the moment of his arrest was much 
divided against him. For the news had spread 
everywhere of the fight at Doncaster ; of the 
violent altercation, and the yet more violent 
threats uttered against Jahez in Jack's drunken 
frenzy during the homeward journey ; of the sus- 
picious circumstances under which he was found 
with the murdered man ; and, lastly, of his own 
self-uphraidings and self-accusations. 

Despite all this, there were two or three women 
who believed in the lad's innocence, as trul}^ as 
they believed in the justice of Heaven. 

"Were they to lay down a pack o' Bibles, and 
swear he did it, I wouldn't believe 'em ! My own 
heart knows my boy is innocent ! " sturdily declared 
Joan Heywood. And Eachel ? When Jacob Dene 
alleged that Jack was guilty, she said, quietly, 
"Grandpa, if that is thy opinion, we need not 
discuss the matter any further. I've known Mr. 
Heywood from childhood, and know that he is not 
capable of an act so wicked." 

" I believe the child is right," chimed in Mrs. 
Dene. 

" I hope it may prove so," rejoined Jacob ; " but 
things look black against him." 



THE INQUEST. 123 

Meanwhile the body of the murdered man had 
been left alone, while Jack was also put under 
lock and key at the Bound House; nor was ho 
alone either, for even the autocrat of Deepdalo 
could not find it in his heart to say nay to Joan 
Heywood's request to be permitted to stay with 
her grandson. 

The poor soul watched over his fevered sleep 
for the night, and administered such homely 
remedies as her own experience might suggest, or 
Doctor Whitaker's skill prescribe, but administered 
them in vain, for as yet the wretched lad lay void 
of sense and motion, almost of life. 

When he returned to consciousness, and found 
himself in the Bound House, he could not compre- 
hend what had brought him there ; or why his 
head was splitting, his throat parched and swollen, 
and his whole body a burning fire. As yet he 
could not form his thoughts into shape ; indeed, 
he had no clear recollection of anything which 
had occurred after the affair in Doneaster. The 
drink which in the first instance had maddened 
him, in the second had stupefied his senses into 
oblivion. 

After vainly trying to arrive at a conclusion 
whether he w^as awake or dreaming, he turned and 
caught sight of Joan Hey wood. 

Starting up, he tried to speak ; but he was 
unable to articulate a syllable. 

As he fell back, he pointed to his choking throat, 
and Joan quickly brought him some water. 



135 RACHEL DENE. 

When he had allayed his raging thirst ho 
gasped, "What's come, granny? and why am I 
here ? " 

"They brought thee here last neet, lad," she 
answered sadly. 

"What for?" 

**I canna tell thee." 

*' Canna tell, canna tell ! Surely it's not for 
punchin' that thief s head at Doncaster ? Don't 
cry, granny, don't cry, but send for grandad and 
Jabez to get mc out of this rat-trap." 

"Jabez, lad, Jabez," moaned the old woman; 
" woes me, poor Jabez ! " 

And she broke down utterly. 

There was no help for it; he must know all. 
Better that he should learn it from her than from 
his gaoler. 

When at length the truth was borne in upon 
the wretched lad's mind, his amazement and 
consternation were only equalled by his grief. 
At first the thing appeared too monstrous, too 
incredible for belief. Yet, even as she spoke, he 
saw, or seemed to see, as if in some awful vision, 
the white face of Jabez, the staring eyes, the pool 
of blood, the open safe, the rifled cash-box, and the 
dog crying at his feet. 

Could it be possible that, in the delirium of 
drink, he had dared to lift his parricidal hand 
against his friend, his more than father ? If he 
knew himself, that could never be, for truly he 
would gladly have laid down his own life for Jabez 



THE INQUEST. 127 

Pryke. But, alas ! he knew also that yesterday 
he was not himself ! 

Catching sight of his blood-stained linen, and 
his bloody hands, he flung himself on the ground 
in an agony of grief. His tears, his cries, his 
inarticulate expressions of anguish, pierced the 
poor grandam's heart. She tried to soothe him, 
but in vain ; he was inconsolable. Under any 
circumstances, the loss of Jabez would have been 
one of the greatest calamities which could have 
befallen him ; but to lose him under such circum- 
stances was beyond horror. He tried to think, to 
recall what had happened; but some connecting 
link of memory was gone altogether, or, at any 
rate, refused to cohere. How came he at the mill 
at all ? That was the very first question he asked 
himself; but he was unable to answer it. When 
Joan explained that Jabez had taken him there, 
he had not the faintest recollection of the occur- 
rence. The pressure on his nerves was so great, 
the charge against him so awful, the crime itself 
BO foul, strange, and unnatural, that the bare 
thought of it drove him to despair. 

" Oh, grannie, grannie," he cried, *' you know 
I couldiia do it ; my arm would have rotted from 
my body first ! But could — oh, could I, while that 
infernal poison was working i' my brain — could 
I have been so mad, so wicked, as to lift my hand 
against him ? Oh, that I were dead ! God knows 
I would have died fifty times over for his sake. Oh, 
Jabez, Jabez, my dear old dad — my dear old dad ! " 



128 RACHEL DENE. 

Joan tried by every means in licr power to 
awaken his dormant memory and to supply the 
missing link, but in vain. 

Meanwhile, the sad news had an unlooked-for 
effect on Jasper Heywood, for it cured his rheu- 
matics like magic. 

Jumping out of bed, he roared, " It's a lie— a 
lie of the devil's own making ! An' Jabez, too- 
dear old Jabez ! Why, t' lad wouldn't 'a harmed 
a hair o' his head! He loved un too well for 
that ! " 

With that he scrambled into his clothes, and, 
regardless of his rheumatism, ran up the valley to 
the Eouud House like a two-year-old. 

Throwing his arms round Jack, he cried, " Cheer 
up, lad— cheer up ! If all t' saints in t' calendar 
were to come back to life and swear they seed it, 
I'd tell 'em they were liars! /And a thief, too! 
Why, dang un, theer never was a thief i' t' family, 
from curfew time upwards ! As for brass, why, 
we've gotten enow, and to spare ! Go thy ways, 
owd woman, to Barford, and see owd Grainger, t' 
lawyer, and tell un to come here and stand up for 
Jack at crowner's 'quest. Go at once, lass, and 
I'll stay here and blow a bit o' baccy wi' t' lad." 

Without another word, Joan went off to Barford 
to retain the solicitor, while Jasper tried to cheer 
up his unfortunate grandson. 

At the post-mortem examination it was discovered 
that Jabez's skull was badly fractured, and that 



THE INQUEST. 129 

the temporal artery of the right temple had been 
severed as clearly as if it had been cut in two 
with a lancet. 

When the inquest took place the next day, the 
jury, after hearing the evidence of Stokes and 
"Wright, at the coroner's direction, without a 
moment's hesitation, returned a verdict of "Wilful 
murder " against Jack, who was that night trans- 
ferred to Barford. When brought before the 
stipendiary, Grainger, the solicitor, alleging that 
he had not yet had time to consult his client, 
requested a remand, which was granted to that 
day week. 

Barford Gaol was not Deepdale Eound House ; 
and when, after a painful parting with his grand- 
father and grandmother, Jack was consigned to 
his solitary cell, he appeared quietly but utterly 
demented. 

The mystery and the horror of the thing 
increased day by day, and no single ray of light 
appeared to illumine the darkness which enshrouded 
it. Up at the Oaks, and down at the cottage, and 
through the whole valley of Deepdale, men's minds, 
and women's, too, were occupied with nothing else. 
The men saw the case with their heads, and they 
were reluctantly compelled to arrive at the conclu- 
sion that, in a fit of mad drunkenness, Jack had 
done the deed. The women, who saw only with 
their hearts, refused to believe that it was pos- 
sible for him, under any circumstances, to kill 
the man he loved so dearly. Both men and 

K 



I30 RACHEL DENE. 

women sympathized with the unhappy lad in his 
tribulation. 

As for Eachel, angry, ashamed as she was at the 
disreputable scene in Doncaster, she never beheved 
for an instant that his was the hand that struck 
the blow. 

Jacob Dene and the vicar were both puzzled at 
the commission of such a crime in the absence of 
all motive. Their opinions, however, underwent a 
change in consequence of a piece of evidence which 
transpired at the next examination. The betting 
man from Sheffield, reading an account of " The 
Deepdale Mystery " in the Yorkshire Post, con- 
cluded to make tracks for Barford, to see if there 
was any chance of " copping " that five and twenty 
pounds which Jack had omitted to send him. 

Now, it must be premised that, after repeated 
consultations with his client, Mr. Grainger could 
make neither head nor tail of his case. The 
evidence for the prosecution commenced with the 
statement of the Deepdale lads who had accom- 
panied prisoner and deceased from Doncaster. 
They testified to prisoner's mad demeanour, his 
violence, his abuse, and his threats. Then came 
the watchman and the stoker ; and, lastly, to the 
astonishment of everybody, Mr. Thomas Yondal. 

That worthy had made some inquiries of the 
chief constable, with the result that, almost before 
he knew where he was, he found himself in the 
witness-box. He deposed as to the betting, and 
the fight at Doncaster ; the debt of five and twenty 



THE EARL OF BEAUCHAMP, 131 

pounds; prisoner's appeal to deceased to pay it; his 
refusal, and the subsequent quarrel. 

As Grainger listened, be felt that every word of 
this evidence was a strand in the rope that was 
to hang his unfortunate client ; and ho merely 
shrugged his shoulders, stating that he reserved 
his defence. 

"That being the case," said the stipendiary, 
"the prisoner is committed to take his trial at 
Leeds Assizes." 



CHAPTER XVI. 

THE EARL OF BEAUCHAMP. 

Within an hour after he had heard the news of 
his accession to the earldom, Ealph Hollis was on 
horseback, riding full-speed to Barford. Wild and 
pale, with blood-shot eyes, he had come from his 
chamber to receive the congratulations of his 
mother and the vicar ; then, without breakfasting 
— for he declared he had no appetite — he had gone 
round to the stable, and ordered his horse to bo 
saddled at once. 

" Poor boy ! " sighed his mother. " The surprise 
was a joyful one, but a shock notwithstanding. He 
can scarcely realize his good fortune." 

Ealph returned to the front of the house, followed 
by the groom leading the horse. Mrs. Hollis came 



132 RACHEL DENE, 

out to the porch, and was again startled to see 
how dazed and strange her son still appeared. 

"Mother," he said nervously, "I am just going 
over to Barford, and shall telegraph to London 
from there." 

''Won't you go first to the Oaks, and tell the 
Denes ? " 

*' I leave that to you," answered the young man. 
" I shall be back very soon. What with one thing 
and another, I feel rather upset. I shall be all 
right after a gallop in the fresh air." 

Grasping the reins with hands that trembled 
violently, he mounted his horse and rode rapidly 
away, his mother watching him with proud and 
loving eyes till he disappeared. In her joy at the 
good fortune, Mrs, Hollis had quite forgotten the 
dark affair which had occurred the previous night. 
All her heart was full of pride and happiness. 

" I will go to Eachel," she said, *' and tell her 
the good news." 

So, while Ealph was riding towards Barford, 
she went and found Eachel Dene. But when she 
spoke of Pvalph's good fortune, of his accession to 
wealth and a great title, Eachel scarcely seemed 
to hear or heed. The young girl's whole heart 
was occupied with two feelings — tenderness for 
the poor lad just committed for a terrible crime, 
and indignation against those who could possibly 
believe him guilty. All her soul was at last awake. 
Sharp on her discovery of the true state of her 
feelings towards Jack Heywood had come the 



THE EARL OF BEAUCHAMP. 133 

announcement that lie was a criminal, arrested for 
murder. It was almost too horrible for belief. 

"Are you not glad, Kachel," said Mrs. Hollis, 
** of my boy's good fortune ? " 

Eachel looked at her sadly, with eyes full of tears. 

" Of course I am glad, for his sake," she 
answered; "but to-night I can think of one 
thing only — 'tis so strange, so terrible ! Mr. 
Heywood is accused of murdering his foster-father, 
and, although I am sure he is innocent, it looks 
so black against him." 

Mrs. HoUis looked in her face, and saw there, 
with womanly instinct, the confession of the truth 
— that Eachel had given her heart to the man 
who had once saved her life. Well, after all, it 
did not matter much now. The new Earl of 
Beauchamp might look higher than the heiress 
of the Denes. The day before, such a match would 
have been social salvation for her son — for them 
all ; but a few hours had changed the cards, and 
Ealph was master of the situation. 

Meantime, Ealph rode towards Barford. Quitting 
Deepdale by the high road, he reached the open 
moor, and, drawing rein, looked back and saw, 
looming darkly against the morning sky, the black 
outline of the mills. A shudder ran through his 
frame as he thought of the dead man lying there, 
and of the living man already a prisoner in the 
Eound House. 

"My God!" he murmured. "If I had only 
known yesterday ! Too late — too late ! " 



134 RACHEL DENE. 

Full sunsliine lay upon the moor and sparkled 
on the river, for the clouds of last night's rain had 
passed away, and fresh airs were winnowing the 
sky to purest azure. All the world looked bright 
and glad ; but Ealph saw only darkness and desola- 
tion. Haggard and pale, he turned his horse's 
head again, and hurried on. 

It was a good long ride to Barford, and more 
than once on the way thither he halted at roadside 
inns, and plied himself with ardent spirits. The 
liquor put some heart into him, and brought a 
little colour to his cheeks, so that by the time he 
reached the great town he was more master of 
himself. Eiding up to the principal hotel in the 
High Street, he dismounted, handed his horse to 
an ostler, and strolled into the coffee-room. He 
had not yet breakfasted, but he felt no hunger 
whatever; so he ordered a glass of brandy, and 
had just drunk it when a hand was laid upon 
his shoulder. Starting, and growing deadly pale, 
he turned and encountered the familiar face of 
Captain Fitzherbert. 

"Hullo, old fellow," said the Captain; "3^ou've 
left your premises and come over early. Come to 
settle, eh? I'm glad of that, for some of our 
fellows were talking about you last night, and 
were rather rusty." 

Ealph did not answer ; his tongue clung to the 
roof of his mouth, and he trembled nervously. 

"Anything the matter?" asked Fitzherbert, 
looking at him in some astonishment. 



THE EARL OF BEAUCHAMP. 135 

*' Nothing, nothing ! " answered the young man. 
"I'm a little upset after yesterday, that's all ! " 

"Hot coppers, eh? By-the-by, what's this 
about a murder down at Deepdale ? The news 
came over this morning by the carrier." 

" It isn't exactly a murder," said Ralph, avert- 
ing his eyes, and looking through the window into 
the street. ** A row of some sort between our old 
overseer and that young fellow we had in tow 
yesterday. The lad got blind drunk, there was a 
quarrel, and something ugly happened. But it 
isn't murder ! No, no ! not murder ! " 

The Captain's face grew very grave. 

"I'm confoundedly sorry," he said. " The old 
man has been killed, at any rate, hasn't he ? " 

Ealph nodded. 

" Well, it's an ugly business for both of us ! " 

" For us ! What business is it of ours ? " 

" Well, we played the youngster a trick, didn't 
we, and doctored his drink ? The cursed stuff 
must have made a madman of him, and you 
see " 

" It was only a lark," cried Ealph, eagerly. 
"How could we foresee what was going to 
happen ? As for the lad, I'm sorry for him, and 
I'll do my best to help him — yes, by the Lord, I 
will ! " 

" I hope you will," returned Fitzherbert. " But 
now, about our fellows and that money ? Have 
you got it ?" 

" No," was the reply. 



136 RACHEL DENE. 

" Then I'm afraid there'll be a row. I warned 
you," said the Captain. 

" I think they'll give me time," said Ealph, 
forcing a sickly smile. " Yon will, at any rate, 
won't you ? The fact is, old fellow — but haven't 
you heard ? I'm in clover at last ! The old man 
died last night, and I got the telegram this 
morning." 

Fitzherbert was at once astonished and de- 
lighted. 

" I'll tell the boys," he cried. " Give you time ? 
I should think they would now." But he added 
as he wrung the young Earl's hand, " I'm sorry 
about that poor devil of a workman, though ! I 
wish we hadn't met him yesterday." 

While Fitzherbert went round to the barracks 
to tell the officers of his friend's change of fortune, 
Ealph ordered breakfast to be prepared in a private 
room. When the meal was ready he entered the 
chamber, and found a fire burning on the hearth, 
and everything very comfortable. 

"I'll ring if I want anything more," he said to 
the waiter. ** Stop, though ; I want you to send 
me a telegram. Bring me a form at once." 

When the man brought the form, Ralph wrote 
the telegram out as follows, and addressed it to 
Barkins, the confidential valet of the deceased 
Earl :— 

" Yours received, I shall come on to London 
as soon as possible. Beauchamp, White Lion 
Hotel, Barford. " 



THE EARL OF DEAUCHAMP. 137 

Directly the waiter left the room, Ealph rose up 
and locked the door ; crossing to the window, 
which was on the first floor, he looked out 
nervously into the street ; then, secure from obser- 
vation, he opened his coat, and took from the 
breast pocket a roll of bank-notes and papers. 
His hands shook like leaves, and his face was 
as white as death, as he turned the papers 
over. 

Startled by the sound of footsteps along the 
corridor, he thrust them back into his bosom, and 
stood listening ; but the steps passed by, and he 
breathed again. Conquering his agitation with a 
great effort, he knelt down before the fire, and 
placing the papers one by one in the blaze, 
watched them rapidly consuming; bank-notes, 
bills of exchange, letters of credit, all shared the 
same fate. In a few minutes, every one of them 
had disappeared, save for a few charred fragments 
and pieces of film that fluttered on the top of the 
blazing coal. As if fearful that even these might 
betray his secret, he seized the poker and dis- 
persed the ashes into the surrounding flame. At 
last, rising to his feet, he stood again listening. 
All was quite silent. He went tip -toe to the door, 
unlocked it stealthily, and then sat down to 
breakfast. 

He could not eat; he was too spirit- shaken and 
terrified; but he hurriedly drank some cups of 
tea, and swallowed a few morsels of dry toast. He 
rose again, and looked in the mirror over the 



T38 RACHEL DENE. 

mantelpiece; Ins face was like a cleatl man's, and 
his head was swimming round. 

A sound of voices, mingled with merry laughter, 
came from helow, and, ascending the stairs, 
approached nearer and nearer. 

** Eoom twenty-five — all right ! " cried the voice 
of Fitzherbert. 

The next moment the Captain appeared, accom- 
panied by several young officers of the fighting 
Forty-First. 

" Here we are ! " cried Fitzherbert. " Come to 
congratulate you, old boy ! " 

And Ealph, surrounded on every side by his 
friends, and felicitated on his good fortune, forcing 
a spasmodic gaiety, bade them welcome, and ring- 
ing the bell, ordered champagne and cigars. After 
a glass or two, he felt better, laughed and joked, 
and made as merry as possible. Not a word was 
said on either side of the paper with his signature 
which some of these young bloods held in their 
possession. Ealph was the hero of the hour. 

He did not return to Deepdale that night, but, 
while Jack Heywood was languishing in prison, 
kept it up royally with the officers and Fitz- 
herbert. Play ensued, of course, and the young 
Earl lost as usual ; but he did not care, and dis- 
tributed his paper merrily to the winners, who 
"were well content to take it. It was long after 
midnight when he staggered to his bed in the 
hotel, and fell into a drunken sleep. 

He woke next morning with a splitting head- 



THE EARL OF BEAUCHAMP. 139 

aclie ; but in spite of that, his nerves were calmer, 
and he had made up his mind to the situation. 
The Barford newspapers were full of long accounts 
of the Deepdale tragedy. Sitting at breakfast in 
his private room, he read through all the horrible 
details of the murder, the prisoner's arrest and 
self-accusations, the overwhelming and damning 
]Droofs against him. 

*' Poor devil ! " thought Ralph the Earl. " One 
comfort is, they can't make it anything worse than 
manslaughter. If it was a hanging matter, I 
think I should go mad ! " 

He was now resolved not to return to Deepdale 
until the affair had blown over. His nerves, he 
felt, were quite unequal to the ordeal. So ho 
wrote a hasty letter to his mother, telling her 
that it was necessary for him to go straight on 
to London. There was an exDress train to the 
metropolis at two p.m. ; he determined to take 
it — a determination which he communicated to 
Fitzherbert, who stepped in after breakfast. 

The Captain, while expressing his approval of 
the arrangement, returned again to the subject 
of the murder. 

" Seen the papers, of course ? " he said. 
** Well, I do hope the poor lad will get off clear, 
or, at any rate, with a light punishment. I'd go 
into the box myself to prove that he was blazing 
drunk, and didn't know what he was doing." 

"You'd better not do that," returned Ealph, 
nervously. 



I40 RACHEL DENE. 

" Well, perhaps not ; but, by George, I won't 
stand by quietly if they make out too black a case 
against him ! I feel still as if it was all our doing 
—don't you ? " 

" No," said Ealph ; " and, for that matter, 
there will be plenty of people to swear as to his 
condition." 

" It says in the papers that there was money 
stolen and valuable papers, but the police can find 
no trace of them. It's queer, now, seeing that he 
was taken red-handed, that nothing of the sort 
was found upon him. But what's the matter? 
You look as white as a ghost ! " 

" I've a confounded headache," stammered 
Ralph. *' Two nights of it, you know ! Besides, 
this business of the succession has come upon me 
so suddenly that I don't know whether I'm standing 
on my head or my heels." 

" I suppose not," laughed the Captain. '* By 
George, though, I should like to be in your shoes ! 
You wanted the tin badly enough, old fellow, and 
I suppose you don't object to the title thrown in ? " 

** Not a bit of it," said Ealx^h, echoing the 
laugh. 

Presently Fitzherbert went away, promising to 
meet his friend shortly in London; and Ealph 
was again left alone to his self-reproaches and 
nervous terrors. Determined to front the world 
boldly, and put on the brightest face possible, he 
strolled downstairs and stood at the inn door, 
Bmoking his cigar and looking at the crowded 



THE EARL OF BEAUCHAMP. 141 

street. The news of his good fortune had spread 
by this time; the landlord of the inn came for- 
ward to congratulate him, while the waiters and 
chambermaids looked on obsequiously. Several 
acquaintances came up, and after fresh congratu- 
lations, passed on. So the time wore away till 
noon. 

As twelve o'clock sounded from the neighbour- 
ing cathedral, a dog-cart drove up to the door, 
and Ralph saw, seated beside the driver, the very 
last person he could have wished to encounter at 
the moment — Rachel Dene. She was quite alone, 
and the moment she saw the young man she 
uttered a joyful exclamation. He stepped forward, 
and assisted her to alight. 

"Why, what brings you to Barford ? " he asked. 
" And why are you without an escort ? " 

" Grandpapa could not come with me," she 
cried quickly, " and as there was no time to be 
lost, I hurried hither alone. I am going on to 
Mr. Grainger about poor Jack Heywood. Oh, 
Ralph, thou hast heard? Was ever such a 
calamity ? Yet he is innocent, I know ! " 

"I'm sure I hope so," answered Ral^^h, shrink- 
ing from the gaze of the young girl's clear, truthful 
eyes. 

** I am so glad we have met, for thou wilt help 
me, I am sure. Let me go on to Mr. Grainger 
at once." 

And she took his arm eagerly, as if to lead him 
away. 



142 RACHEL DENE. 



t( 



I am very sorry," he stammered nervously, 
"but it is absolutely imperative for me to go to 
London. The Earl is dead. My mother has told 
you, I suppose? and I must pay him the last 
respects, as his kinsman and heir." 

" Thou canst not help the dead ! " cried Eachel. 
" "What we must all do now is clear. An innocent 
man is accused of murder, and perchance we ca^n 
save him. Come with me, for God's sake, and 
come at once ! " 

Kalph would have done so gladly, but he dreaded 
the ordeal of the interview with the solicitor, and 
all his wish now was to get out of the way as 
quickly as possible. He was still full of a nervous 
terror. 

*' My dear Eachel, it is impossible ! " he said. 
"Of course, I will do all I can; but they are 
waiting for me in London." 

Again he felt her truthful eyes upon him, and 
shrank from meeting them. He felt for the 
moment as if he could have sunk through the 
earth in shame. 

" Oh, Ealph, he saved my life ! " sobbed the 
girl. 

** Don't fret yourself unnecessarily," he replied. 
" Every one knows that the man was drunk, and 
if he did this thing it was in a drunken frenzy. 
That, of course, will plead in his favour." 

But Eachel, drying her eyes suddenly, and 
setting her face to a look of clear resolve, cried, 
*' He is innocent, I tell thee ; nay, I could stake 



THE EARL OF BEAUCHAMP, 143 

my life upon it. Whoever killed poor Mr. Prjkc, 
it was not Jack Hey wood ! " 

It was a bard task for Ealpli Hollis to preserve 
his self-command ; he was tortured as if upon the 
rack, and could scarcely refrain from uttering a 
cry of pain. Trembling violently, be turned his 
head away, when he felt the girl's band clutching 
his arm, and heard her saying, ** The man who 
did this thing was a thief, and had broken into 
the counting-house. Jack Heywood was incapable 
of such an act ! Oh, Ealph, bo was thy com- 
panion in childhood, and was ever so good and 
true ! Thou canst not think him guilty ? Say 
thou canst not ? " 

** Upon my life," answered Ealph, " I don't 
know what to think or say ! I'm only sure of one 
thing — that I could cut off my right hand to set 
the fellow free ! " 

A few more hurried words, and Eachel was gone. 
The young man breathed again as soon as she 
disappeared. 

"Confound the girl!" he muttered. "Why 
the deuce does she meddle in the matter? I was 
right, then ; it is clear enough that she loves 
bim ! " 

In his nervous alarm from other causes, be 
scarcely felt at that moment even a qualm of 
jealousy. All his wish now was to fly away from 
the scene of his horror, and from the eyes which at 
any moment might read his secret. 

A little later, be was seated alone in a first-class 



144 RACHEL DENE, 

carriage, travelling by express to Loudon, more 
like a fugitive from justice than the happy heir to 
fortune and an earldom. 



CHAPTEE XVII. 

THE PEIMEOSE PATH. 

Upon arriving at Curzon Street, May Fair, Ralph 
found that his uncle's death had been occasioned 
by a fit of apoplexy upon returning from the Lord 
Mayor's banquet. A few days afterwards he 
attended the obsequies at Beauchamp Castle, as 
chief mourner, with little or no affectation of 
regret for a relative whom he had scarcely seen, 
and who had been systematically hostile to his 
mother and himself. 

After the funeral, he returned to the Castle, 
looked through the stables, glanced at the coverts, 
conferred with the steward, the butler, and the 
housekeeper, the head groom, and the head game- 
keeper, confirmed them in their appointments, 
and returned to town by the next train, accom- 
panied by Grimstone, the family solicitor. 

They dined together that night in Curzon Street, 
where Ealph thenceforth took up his abode, 
having taken over the whole of his uncle's menage, 
including Barkins, the valet, who had been in 
the Beauchamp family all his life, had known 
Ealph's father and mother, and who soon 



THE PRIMROSE PATH. 145 

succeeded, by the way, in attaching himself to 
his new master. 

That evening, Grimstone explained to his youth- 
ful client that it would be requisite to go through 
certain formalities for the administration of the 
estate; but before the week was out, the new Earl 
had taken his seat in the House of Lords, and 
voted for the Government in an important 
division. 

The estate cut up better than was anticipated, 
and Kalph found himself in the enjoyment of 
something like thirty thousand a year — so, at 
least, he wrote Jacob Dene, politely tendering his 
resignation — expressing his regret for the over- 
seer's untimely death, and volunteering tho 
opinion that Jack, he felt sure, was the last man 
in the world capable of such a crime. 

He wrote much to the same effect to Jasper 
Heywood, telling him to draw upon him for all 
moneys requisite for the defence. He touched 
lightly upon the subject in his letter to Eachel, to 
whom he sent some little presents just to remind 
her of his existence. Nor did he forget his other 
friends and relations. To his mother he sent an 
open cheque, some valuable pieces of mourning, 
gloves, etc., and to the vicar some books of refer- 
ence. Then, having so far done his duty, he 
invited Captain Fitzherbert to come and join him 
in seeing life in London, to which occupation 
these gentlemen devoted themselves assiduously. 

It was astonishing what a number of friends 

L 



140 RACHEL DENE. 

cropped up all at onee at May Fair. Friends of 
Ealph's father, friends of bis mother — aristocratic 
matrons with marriageable daughters, and friends 
of his late lamented uncle. Besides these came a 
clientele of tradespeople who bad fattened on the 
Beanchamps for generations. Then there ■were 
obliging gentlemen, olive-complexioned and large- 
nosed, who inquired in the most delicate and 
friendly manner if the new lord needed ready 
money. There were other gentlemen with cropped 
beads, low foreheads, bull nechs, who called to 
inquire if "my lord " required any lessons in the 
noble arts of racing and self-defence. 

The Honourable Augustus Torvin, the Govern- 
ment whip, put the new Earl up at the Junior 
Carlton, and Tom Tressider nominated him for the 
Jockey Club, in place of his noble uncle, deceased ; 
while Fitzherbert introduced him to the Ostriches, 
where one night they encountered the famous 
Major O'Gallagher, whose escapade with the Begum 
of Upper Oude led to bis quitting the service with 
a certain eclaircissement a quarter of a century ago. 

The Major, of course, was a native of the Sister 
Isle, with just that flavour of the brogue on his 
tongue, and those cordial and ingratiating manners, 
which impart such a charm to the manners of the 
well-bred Irishman. 

Although on the shady side of sixty, he was a 
fine, stalwart fellow, and in excellent preservation. 
" Mick," as his friends called him, had a bead as 
white and as well polished as a billiard ball; a 



THE PRIMROSE PATH. Mj 

celestially Irish nose ; bright, twinkling blue eyes ; 
rosy, clean-shaven cheeks, which expanded into 
dewlaps as they fell in ghstening folds over the 
white neck-scarf which he always affected. 

He had met the late Colonel Hollis in India 
during those bad times of the Mutiny, and he 
received Ealph with effusion. 

"I knew your father," he cried, "before ye were 
born. The best player at poker and pyramids in 
the Punjaub. And how is that gorgeous creature, 
your mother ? By my honour, I used to adore 
her ; that is, before I took to adoring my dinner. 
Which reminds me you must come and dine with 
me to-night, and your friend, too." 

It was in vain that Ealph pleaded a prior engage- 
ment ; the Major would not take no for an answer. 

" Come, my boy, and take us without ceremony," 
said he. " Julia will be delighted to see you. 
Sure, she played with you when you were a little 
fellow the size of my thumb out there at Lucknow, 
when the Nana, bad cess to him, gave poor Ealph 
his quietus." 

Both the young fellows were impressed by the 
Major's frank and engaging manners, and the 
little dinner at Montpellier Square was a break 
in the run of bachelor banquets. To be sure, the 
O'Gallagher apartments were not palatial, but 
there was a cordial welcome from the Major and 
the Major's daughter. 

In appearance Julia O'Gallagher reminded Ealph 
of some lost vision of his youth, or one of those 



148 RACHEL DENE. 

weird bizarre statues of some bronzed odalisque, 
partially clad in garments of white, from which 
the dusky limbs gleam forth bare and beautiful in 
the stately symmetry of their classic outlines. 
Had Cleopatra had the faintest tinge of Egyptian 
blood in her Greek veins, so might the serpent of 
Old Nile have looked in her golden prime. The 
tinge of olive which blended with the Milesian 
strain of the 0' Gallaghers came from her mother, 
the Begum aforesaid. Thence also came the white 
teeth; the luscious, scarlet lips — lips like twin 
rosebuds ; the dark, flashing eyes ; the straight, 
black brows ; the night of raven hair, which was 
wont upon provocation to tumble to the ground, 
covering her lithe and elastic figure as with an 
iridescent mantle of sable. The voice, too, had 
the soft, crooning music of the far East. To these 
Oriental attributes were added the accomplishments 
of Europe — a taste for music, painting, and the 
fine arts generally. 

She came forward and welcomed the young men 
as if she had known them all her life ; indeed, she 
professed to remember Ealph as her little play- 
fellow at Lucknow and Cawnpore. 

Neither he nor Fitzherbert noted her garb, but 
saw vaguely that it was some soft flowing white 
stuff; nor did they even note the pearls which 
rose and sank upon her neck ; in fact, they paled 
their ineffectual fires before the light of her splendid 
eyes. The men were captivated at the first look. 

The repast was not particularly sumptuous, but 



THE PRIMROSE PATH. 149 

it was agreeable, well cooked, and well served, and 
Miss O'Gallagher did the honours like a princess. 
After dinner she left the gentlemen to their wine. 
They didn't stay long, however, and when they 
joined her she gave them some delicious tea in 
dainty little cups of some quaint Indian ware, 
arabesqued and inlaid with gold. Then she sang 
and played to them, and did both divinely. 

By-and-by, three or four men about town dropped 
in to beg a cup of tea. Presently some one suggested 
cards, whereupon Julia glided from the room with- 
out a word. 

After an hour or two at half-crown points, the 
guests began to drop away, and Ealph and Fitz- 
herbert rose to follow suit. 

*' Make my adieux. Major, to Miss O'Gallagher," 
said Ealph. *' Thanks for a delightful evening." 

*' Come again, my boys," replied the Major, 
** without ceremony ; there's always a knife and 
fork, and a welcome." 

" Capital fellow, the Major," said Ealph, as they 
drove home. 

"First rate," responded Fitzherbert. "But 
isn't the girl splendid ? " 

" She's a beauty," returned Ealph, with a yawn, 
"for a fellow whose taste lies in that direction. 
I suppose, being nearly a nigger myself, I adore 
fair women. Besides, there's only one woman in 
the world for me, and she's down at Deepdale." 

"By Jove!" cried the captain, "I begin to 
think there's only one woman in the world for 



ISO RACHEL DENE. 

me, and she's at Montpellier Square. Not that 
I suppose she'd ever descend on a poor plunger 
like myself. I expect she's looking out for higher 
game — a prince or a lord, at least." 

*' They seem pretty well tiled in. I suppose the 
Begum left her something worth having ? " 

" Don't know," said Fitzherbert. " When we 
were in the Punjaub our fellows used to look upon 
all the natives as niggers. There's nothing of the 
nigger about /ter." 

" Not a bit." 

'* I say, Ealph, look here ; the Major's worth 
cultivating. I've won a fiver to-night. The first 
lucky deal I've had since I've been in town." 

" And I believe I'm a sovereign or two to the 
good," laughed Ealph, fuU of his new independence 
of such trifles. 

That was the first of many pleasant nights 
at Montpellier Square. Strange to say, Julia 
O'Gallagher had no lady friends. She reigned, 
therefore, with undivided sway, and distributed 
her smiles or courtesies with perfect impartiality, 
and an apparent absence of personal predilection ; 
and yet how dangerously seductive she could be 
when she played the artillery of her charms upon 
any given object ! To-nigbt one man thought 
himself the especial favourite ; the next, another 
man was made happy with a smile or a gracious 
word. Tom Tressider was the first favourite one 
night ; Fitzherbert took the premier j)as upon 
another occasion. Every man had his turn — turn 



THE PRIMROSE PATH. 151 

and turn about ; perhaios Ealph came in for more 
than the rest. He said that was because Julia 
remembered him as an old playfellow. Fitzberbcrt 
thought, however, it was because she remembered 
he was an Earl. 

Whenever the men took to cards, which they 
did every evening, she took herself to her own 
apartments. 

"Boys will b3 boys," said the Major. "For 
myself, I object to going beyond a crown point. 
But never mind — go ahead ; you can only be 
young once ! " 

Night after night the play became heavier and 
heavier, despite the Major's warnings. Other men 
sometimes dropped in. There was the Hon. Algy 
Fitz Urse, the Chevalier Vicoff, Major Deuceace, 
and a few other choice bloods of the Ostriches. 
That five pounds of Fitzherbert's had gone long 
ago, with many a note to boot. 

Julia invariably suggested that both Ealph and 
Fitz should take their departure at the same time 
with herself, but they decided to remain. When 
she left the room, the men formed an avenue down 
which she passed with a smile and a kind good 
night for all. 

Then came the real work of the night — baccarat, 
poker, and the rest of it. The Major smoked his 
cigarette and looked on while the youngsters went 
for each other. 

What with the excitement of the game and 
copious libations, Ealph and Fitzherbert began to 



IS2 RACHEL DENE. 

plunge heavily, and to lose heavily, too. Some 
nights they did not know what they had lost. 
I.O.U.'s were circulated freely. They never re- 
mained long in doubt about these, for one or other 
of their friends usually turned up the next day at 
May Fair, requesting payment. 

Sometimes, too, the Major himself put in an 
appearance with a promissory note and a paternal 
remonstrance. 

This business of settling up didn't give Fitz- 
herbert much trouble so long as Ralph paid the 
piper ; in the end, however, it upset him both in 
health and in credit. Nights at Montpellier Square 
were varied by nights at the Merozable and at the 
Ostriches ; but wherever these young gentlemen 
went, the result was invariably the same. They 
were by no means of the verdant-green fraternity ; 
and as their own object was plunder, they could 
scarcely object when the tables were tm*ned upon 
them. 

When Barldns found that his master and his 
friend had the devil's books in their hands at all 
hours ; that they turned night into day ; that they 
went to bed late ; that when they got up their 
first demand was for soda-water ; that they merely 
trifled with a cup of tea and a devilled anchovy 
toast before they returned to soda, copiously 
diluted with brandy ; when he observed that re- 
peated doses of this potent beverage were accom- 
panied by huge full-flavoured havannahs, he 
ventured to remonstrate. He might, however. 



THE PRIMROSE PATH. .153 

have spared himself the trouble, for all the thanks 
he got. 

Presently two or three race meetings came off. 
Ealph went to each of them, and plunged in every 
direction, losing right and left. He now became 
fretful, peevish, and angry upon the slightest pro- 
vocation, and could not bear to be alone, especially 
since the receipt of a cold and repellent letter 
from Rachel, more than hinting that he had been 
the means of leading Jack Heywood astray at 
Doncaster. His mother urged him to come down 
to Deepdale at once, to settle his debts, and to 
conclude his engagement with Eachel ; but from 
the tenor of that young lady's last communi- 
cation, he thought it would not be desirable to 
put his fortune to the test for the present, and so 
he postponed his visit from day to day, from week 
to week. A giant's strength might well succumb 
to the life he was now leading, and Ealph was 
no giant. 

It is the pace that kills, and the pace was 
beginning to tell upon him already. His cheeks 
became flushed and hectic, his hands trembled, 
and he was tortured with a hollow, racking cough, 
which never ceased, morning, noon, or night. 

Obviously he needed rest and recuperation. 
Happy thought ! He would take the Major, and 
a few sporting friends, down to the Castle for the 
shooting. He did do so, and returned worse than 
ever. 

He now began to recall the old days in the 



1 54 RACHEL DENE, 

quiet Yorkshire valley with regret. Old days, 
indeed! Why, only a few months had elapsed 
since he quitted Deepdale, and yet it seemed ages 
ago. It was not yet too late to pull up ; he would 
return to the Vicarage. Just as he had arrived 
at this sensible conclusion, the Major, the Captain, 
and Tom Tressider called one day to " give him a 
straight tip," as they expressed it, about a great 
bruising match which had just been arranged 
between two notorious gladiators. 

The affair, which was known only to the 
initiated, was to come off in France. It was in 
the highest degree chic, and it would not do to be 
out of so good a thing, so next day off went my 
lord, accompanied by his noble friends. Being by 
no means a good sailor, Ealph had an awful 
passage to Dieppe, and landed very ill ; but, 
despite Fitzherbert's remonstrances, he persisted 
in accompanying the Major and the rest to Eouen, 
in the neighbourhood of which city the famous 
pugilistic encounter was to take place. 

By the. time he got there Ealph was worse, 
and Fitzherbert begged him to stay in bed for a 
day or two. It was in the depth of a most 
inclement winter, and he was shivering from head 
to foot when, early next morning, he got aboard 
the small packet and steamed down the river, in 
company with the Brummagem Bulldog, the New 
York Hercules, their seconds, and upwards of a 
hundred and fifty shining lights of the jeiuiesse 
cloree. 



THE PRIMROSE PATH. 155 

After steaming about for some hours, at about 
two o'clock in the afternoon the boat was moored 
to an islet in the middle of the river ; the motley 
crowd of peers, plungers, and pugilists landed, and 
the champions of the two hemispheres proceeded 
to batter each other's faces to pulp, until night 
spitefully put an end to the sport. The stakes 
were then drawn, and the twin bulldogs, having 
beaten each other out of all semblance to humanity, 
embraced and vowed eternal friendship. 

It was late when our gallant sportsmen got back 
to Eouen. Ealph was shivering worse than ever, 
and coughing even more than usual. Fitzherbert 
urged him to stay, and get a day or two's rest ; but 
the Major, Deuceace, Tressider, and the chamj)ion3 
were for pushing on to Calais by the express, and 
Ealph resolved to push on with them. 

With the aid of copious and repeated doses of 
eau de vie he succeeded in reaching Calais in time 
for the boat. "When they embarked he could 
scarcely keep his feet, and he asked Fitzherbert 
to go below to secure a cabin, a pint of champagne, 
and a captain's biscuit. 

It took some five minutes or more before Fitz- 
herbert could see the steward. During this time 
the boat had left the pier, and was rapidly making 
way ; and when Fitzherbert came on deck he 
couldn't find Ealph anywhere. The Major had 
seen him five minutes before ; Tressider had seen 
him even later, and had given him a pull at his 
flask. 



156 RACHEL DENE. 

It now began to blow hard. Fitzherbert was a 
worse sailor even than Ealph, and he collapsed 
immediately. More than an hour elapsed after 
his arrival at Dover before he could struggle upon 
deck. When, at last, he turned out there was no 
sign of either Ealph or the Major, or, indeed, of 
any of his friends. 

Doubtless, they had gone on to town by the 
tidal train. Obviously, there was nothing for it 
but for him to follow. 



CHAPTER XVm. 

'tWIXT DOVER AND CALAIS. 

Upon Fitzherbert's arrival at May Fair, to his 
astonishment he found no sign of Ralph the Earl. 
When the following day came, and Ralph did not 
appear, Fitzherbert became anxious ; anxiety gave 
place to alarm when a second day elapsed without 
any communication from his missing friend. 

It now occurred to the Captain to look up the 
Major, and he drove down to Montpellier Square 
in Ralph's brougham. 

The Major was out. He had gone down to 
Fleet Street to arrange about the drawing of the 
stakes and the division of the spoil among the 
noble sportsmen. But Julia was visible, and 
greeted him with her brightest smile. 

" How are you to-day ? " she inquired. 



'TIVIXT DOVER AND CALAIS. 137 

*' Very seedy. I've not seen you for an age." 

*' And the young Earl ? " 

"I don't know. I've not seen bim since we left 
Calais." 

" Indeed ! " 

" No. The fact is, I was unfortunately com- 
pelled to succumb to tbe chops of the Channel, 
and as Ealph was seedy v/hen we went aboard, I 
thought possibly the Major might have taken 
charge of him." 

*' I don't think so. Papa has never mentioned 
the subject to me." 

** When did the Major get back ? " 

** The night before last." 

** I think I'd better look him up at once." 

When Fitzherbert reached the Ostrich club the 
Major was at lunch. 

" Well, dear boy, how's our Pylades — how's the 
golden youth?" 

*' Don't know," cried the Captain. *' I thought 
you could tell me." 

" The deuce you did ! How's that ? " 

"I've not seen him since we left Calais." 

** You don't mane that ? " said the Major. 

" I do, though." 

" Perhaps you'll be after explaining ? " 

" Eirst, do you mean to say. Major, yoiCve not 
seen him ? " 

" Divil a bit! Now, then, go ahead, dear boy, 
with the particulars." 

"Well, then, I lost sight of him when we got 



158 RACHEL DENE. 

aboard, and I had such a devil of a time of it in 
crossing that I couldn't pull myself together to 
come on deck till long after you fellows had got 
ashore. I came on by the next train to Curzon 
Street, expecting to find him there. He has not 
been there, nor have I seen or even heard of him 
since." 

" The dear boy seemed very queer. Perhaps he 
may be staying at Dover to recuperate." 

" Not a bad idea. I'll telegraph the Lord 
Warden at once," 

Having despatched his telegram, Fitzherbert 
joined the Major at lunch. By the time they had 
finished, there came a reply from Dover, stating 
that Lord Beauchamp was not at the Lord 
Warden, nor had he been there. 

"I have it!" said the Major. "Boys will be 
boys ; he's met with an adventure. I'll go bail, 
now, a pair of bright eyes have detained him on 
the other side of the streak." 

*' But I tell you I saw him aboard." 

"So did I; but sure he'd plenty of time to get 
ashore. Ah, with youth the season is for joy ; 
and I was young once myself." 

" What time is it ? " inquired Fitzherbert, 
looking at his watch. " Four o'clock ! Just time 
to catch the tidal train. I'm off!" 

" More power to ye. Let me know as soon as 
you have traced the truant." 

Fortunately for Fitzherbert, this time the 
Channel was as smooth as a mill-pond. 



'TIVIXT DOVER AND CALAIS, 159 

Immediately on his arrival at Calais he went to 
the xDolice-station. The Commissary was com- 
municative and obliging. He stated that at the 
very moment the packet cast her moorings a man 
•was seen rapidly running down the pier ; that he 
tried to leap aboard ; that he missed his footing, 
and fell headlong into the sea ; that a couple of 
fishermen, who were fortunately cruising about in 
a small coble, fished him out more dead than 
alive; that he was now lying at the Hotel 
Montjoy, and that in all probability he was the 
missing English milord. 

Half an hour later Fitzherbert was by Ralph's 
bedside at the hospital. He had been unconscious 
since the moment of his deliverance, and was still 
quite delirious. 

The physician in attendance stated that a violent 
cold had supervened upon congestion of the lungs, 
and an aggravated attack of delirium tremens. It 
was perhaps as well that this gentleman did not 
understand a word of English, as Ealph's ravings 
would doubtless have astonished him. 

'Twas in vain that Fitzherbert tried to restrain 
the wretched youth. At one moment he was at 
Brocklesby Ferry, at another in the ring at 
Doncaster. Anon, with a shriek of terror, he 
started bolt upright, screaming, "Don't — don't — 
don't glare at me with your pale face — don't, 
don't ! " 

Then he fell back, panting and exhausted. 

Thus the days passed on, and the patient's 



i6o RACHEL DENE, 

condition still gave great cause for alarm. The 
bodily ailment seemed subsiding, but the mental 
and spiritual condition seemed to border on some 
serious form of brain disturbance or chronic 
hallucination. 

** Our young friend has something on his mind," 
said the doctor to Fitzherbert after one of these 
violent outbursts. " I suppose he has been a 
hon vivant — what you call in your English a free 
liver ? " 

*' Of course, he's gone the pace," returned the 
Captain. You see, he has only just come into his 
property, and he's been trying to see as much life 
as possible." 

** Well, you must keep him very quiet, or he 
will never recover. Do you know of any serious 
mental trouble?" 

" No," replied Fitzherbert. " He has everything 
a man can want, and, so far as I know, no trouble 
at all. But he's been going it, you know, ever 
since his change of fortune." 

The constancy and devotion of Fitzherbert knew 
no bounds. Night after night he sat up with his 
friend, till he himself looked almost as sick and 
haggard as the invalid. He liked Ealph, and had 
stood by him in many a nasty affair. There was 
something yet in store for him, however, which 
was to test his friendship to the full. 

One night Ealph Hollis had dozed off quietly, 
and Fitzherbert, who sat by the bedside watching, 
thought that he was going to have a long, sound 



'TIVIXT DOVER AND CALAIS. i6i 

rest. Suddenly, however, the invalid awakened — 
not with the wild start of fever and delirium — and 
looked at his friend ; then, reaching out a thin, 
trembling hand, he said quite gently, " Fitz, old 
fellow, is there any news ? " 

**News! Of whom?" asked the Captain, a 
little surprised. 

" Of young Hey wood ? " 

** None ; only he has been committed for trial. 
Don't worry yourself about him. Close your eyes, 
and go to sleep." 

But Ealph's hand closed tightly in his as the 
faint voice said, **I can't sleep! Sometimes, old 
fellow, I think there is no sleep for me this side 
the grave ; and, to tell you the truth, I don't think 
I shall ever rise from my bed again. Well, so 
much the better. But I can't die with a lie upon 
my soul. You're a good fellow, and I can trust 
you, can't I ? " 

" Stake your soul on that," replied the Captain. 

"Well, then, I'm going to make a clean breast 
of it, and, if I die, you'll try to put things right. 
Fitz, I've never been myself since that night at 
Doncaster. It was a dirty trick we played on that 
youngster, but there's worse than that to tell. If 
they hang him, and if there's a hell, as I believe, 
the devil will have me, for, as sure as there's a 
God above, 7, and not Jack Heywood, killed Jabez 
Pryke ! " 

With a cry of horror, Fitzherbert started back, 
and almost sprang to his feet. At first, he thought 

M 



i62 RACHEL DENE, 

that Ealph was raving, but a look into bis eyes 
convinced him to the contrary. White and calm, 
■with the firm resolve upon him to tell his secret 
once and for ever, Ealph lay back upon the pillows, 
watching the effect of his strange confession. 

" You killed him ? " gasped Fitzherbert. ** No, 
no ; you're raving ! " 

" I'm telling you the gospel truth," said Ralph ; 
** and, what's more, if you like to call in witnesses 
and hear me swear it, I'll stand to what I say. 
It's that which has made me mad, and driven me 
headlong to the devil. Listen, and I'll tell you 
how it happened. You know how badly I wanted 
money — you know how the fellows were down on 
me from every side ? Well, that night when you 
drove me over from Barford the devil tempted me 
to enter the counting-house and take what I wanted, 
to save me from exposure and ruin. I was half- 
drunk still, and I hardly know now how I got into 
the place, but almost before I could realize what I 
was doing I had opened the safe, and was collaring 
the coin and the paper. I had seized a handful of 
gold and notes, and had thrust them into my 
breast, when I heard a sound behind me, and, 
turning round, I saw the overseer standing on the 
threshold of the room, and looking on." 

There was silence in the sick-room, save for the 
low, faint voice of the speaker. Fitzherbert sat 
spell-bound. 

"Well, then, I knew that it was all up, but 
before I could think what to do, the old man had 



^TtVIXT DOVER AND CALAIS. 163 

seized me, and we were struggling together. As 
God is my Judge, Fitz, I never meant to harm 
him, but I tried to tear myself free. In the 
struggle he was hurled backward, and struck his 
head against the marble mantelpiece. My God, 
I think I see him now ! I hear his dying cry ! 
He gave one wild scream, and fell dead before 
me ! " 

As he proceeded, Ealph grew more and more 
excited, and he sat up in the bed wildly gesticu- 
lating. 

** Then I heard another sound — some one behind 
me descending the stairs. Young Heywood, still 
drunk and half asleep, with his eyes closed, and 
his hands feeling before him, appeared in the 
passage. I stepped back behind the door as he 
entered, then out on the landing and into one of 
the recesses of the stair. A moment after, I heard 
a shriek from the room ; it was the lad's voice, 
and then some men came running up the street, 
and with them the watch-dog Leo. They did not 
see me, and the dog, instead of taking my scent, 
rushed on into the room, where the lad was now 
wailing like a madman. There wasn't a minute to 
lose. I slipt down the stair, through the gate into 
the street, and ran like a madman till I reached 
the Vicarage door. I had my latch-key, and got 
in unheard and unseen. All the rest you know. 
Next morning my mother brought me the news of 
my uncle's death. Think of my feelings then. 
But, as God is my Judge, it was an accident, not 



l64 RACHEL DENE, 

murder ! I never meant to kill the old man — no, 
no!" 

He hid bis face in bis bands, and sobbed. Fitz- 
herbert still sat silent, riveted with the horror of 
the tale. 

" Now you can do what you think best," moaned 
the -wretched man. "Denounce me if you like; I 
don't care ! " 

Yet be looked pleadingly at bis friend, as if 
beseeching bis sympathy and protection. 

" It's an awful business," said the Captain at 
last. ** I never suspected it was so bad as this. 
But that money and those papers ; what became 
of them ? " 

" I threw the gold away on the moor, and 
destroyed the notes and papers next day at Bar- 
ford. Fitz, old man, what am I to do ? Now it's 
all up with me I don't mind making a confession ; 
but if I should live " 

"Leave me to think it over," returned Fitz- 
hcrbert. " Go to rest now. Here, I'll give yovL 
your draught; it may send you off to sleep." 

So saying, he measured out the potion which the 
doctor bad left for the patient. Ealpb drank it 
gratefully ; and presently, as if relieved to some 
extent by the confession he bad made, dozed off 
into a fitful sleep. The Captain sat pondering 
darkly. It was an ugly business, as be had said ; 
yet, on reflection, be did not see as yet why be 
should interfere. Ralph was bis friend, bis pal, 
and in the Captain's dark code of morality, fidelity 



GUILTY OR NOT GUILTY. 165 

to a comrade was the cardinal virtue. Besides, 
Ealpli was rich and powerful, and the downfall 
and exposure of one would mean certain ruin to 
the other. Of course, if the accused man were 
actually convicted and condemned to death, it 
might be a different matter. Fitzherbert deter- 
mined to wait and see. 

At daybreak Ealph opened his eyes, and saw 
the Captain still sitting by the bedside. 

" Well, what is to be done ? " he asked eagerly. 
" Unless I'm dreaming, I told you everything last 
night?" 

"You did," replied Fitzherbert; "but make 
your mind easy. I never rounded on a pal yet, 
and I'm going to hold my tongue." 



CHAPTER XIX. 

GUILTY OR NOT GUILTY. 

On the very day — the very hour — that Ealph and 
his friends were "assisting" at that memorable 
contest on the river, Jack Heywood was on trial 
for his life at Leeds Assizes. 

During repeated interviews Grainger had made 
persistent efforts to induce his client to confide in 
him, so as to prepare some theory for the defence ; 
but he always obtained the same answer, the 
formula of which was simple and conclusive, and 
was contained in five words — 



i66 RACHEL DENE. 

"I know nothing about it." 

Then the lawyer endeavoured to persuade Jack 
to admit that a quarrel had occurred while he was 
intoxicated ; that Jabez had struck him, and that 
in self-defence he had struck him against the 
mantelpiece (for Grainger had carefully examined 
the counting-house and everything in it) ; hence 
the catastrophe. Jack, however, declined to en- 
dorse this theory of the matter, and reiterated — 

"I know nothing about it." 

Grainger then tried another tack. He got a 
pair of medical experts to examine his client, with 
& view to propounding the defence of insanity, 
i'his line was more untenable than the other, and 
there was nothing for it but to obtain an eloquent 
advocate to plead extenuating circumstances to 
the jury. This gentleman did his duty to the best 
of his ability ; but his eloquence was powerless 
against the damning weight of evidence. The 
case for the defence having closed, and the counsel 
for the prosecution having replied, the judge 
proceeded to sum up ; and having put the case for 
and against the accused with judicial impartiality, 
he came to the theory of the defence — viz. that 
the crime had occurred during a drunken scuffle. 

" It is almost trivial for me," said his lordship, 
"to observe that a man is not excused from his 
crime by reason of intoxication by alcohol. If 
that were to be accepted as a valid defence, the 
criminal courts might as well be closed at once, 
because there is no doubt drunkenness is the 



GUILTY OR NOT GUILTY, 167 

cause of a large proportion of the crime committed. 
The learned counsel for the defence has contended 
that the occurrence was accidental, or, rather, 
that it was one of those cases coming within the 
term of manslaughter. He has also enlarged upon 
the evidence as to character given by the witnesses 
for the defence, and the universal concurrence of 
testimony as to the known affection which for so 
many years had existed between prisoner and 
deceased, and the absence of motive for the com- 
mission of the crime. On the other hand, gentle- 
men, you have the statement of the witness Yondal 
as to the occurrence at Doncaster; the refusal of 
deceased to lend prisoner money ; the quarrel on 
the homeward journey ; the threats of violence ; 
the burglarious entry into the counting-house ; the 
breaking open of the safe ; the rilling of the cash- 
box ; the abstraction of certain bank-notes, drafts, 
and other moneys, and the subsequent death of 
Jabez Pryke. 

*' It is true, none of these notes, drafts, or 
moneys have been found upon the accused, and 
that point is clearly in favour of the prisoner. 

*' It is for you to decide upon the matter 
without fear or favour. If you believe that the 
accused committed this crime, it is your duty to 
find him guilty. If, on the other hand, you have 
any reasonable doubt on the subject, it is your 
duty to give the prisoner the benefit of the doubt." 

At four o'clock the jury retired to consider their 



i68 RACHEL DENE. 

verdict, taking with them the plan of the counting- 
house. 

Then came an awful and unbroken silence. 

Half Deepdale was in court — men and women 
who had known the prisoner from childhood. 
Jasper and Joan Heywood sat at the solicitors' 
table beside Grainger. A lady, closely veiled, was 
seated 'twixt Jacob Dene and the vicar, in the 
gallery to the left of the dock. Jack looked round, 
and took in the picture as if in a dream. 

After what appeared an age, the jury returned 
to the court, and the judge to the bench. 

The foreman was pale and agitated. 

" How say you, gentlemen of the jury ? " inquired 
the clerk. "Is the prisoner at the bar guilty, or 
not guilty ? " 

'* Guilty." 

The court surged and throbbed as if with one 
huge pulse. 

" Guilty," repeated the foreman ; " but the jury 
desire to recommend the prisoner to mercy on 
account of his youth, and also on account of the 
condition he was in when the crime was com- 
mitted." 

Then came the words, "Prisoner at the bar, 
have you anything to say why sentence of death 
should not be passed upon you ? " 

"Yes ! " exclaimed Jack. 

In this supreme moment he recalled, as if by 
miracle, all that had occurred on the night of the 
murder. 



GUILTY OR NOT GUILTY. 169 

** My lord, and gentlemen of the jury," be con- 
tinued, in a clear and sonorous voice, " I have 
nothing to say against t' verdict — it couldna bo 
otherwise ; but for the sake 0' those I leave behind, 
I wish to clear my memory from this foul crime. 
I was ne'er drunk i' my life until that night at 
Doncaster, and t' poison went to my brain and 
made me mad. After we left Doncaster, I remember 
nowt until I was wakened from my sleep by a 
voice crying * Murder ! ' Had I been dead, surely 
that voice would have brought me back to life. I 
leaped up, and ran as fast as my feet could carry 
me to the counting-house. As God is my Judge, 
Jabez lay there dead before me, bathed i' his own 
blood. From that moment until this, when it has 
pleased t' Lord to lift the cloud fro' my brain, all 
has been a blank ; but now — now that I see and 
know all, now that I realize the dreadful truth, no 
punishment you can inflict can equal what I suffer 
already in the knowledge that had I been by his 
side, as was my duty — had I been a man, and not 
a drunken, besotted beast, this trouble would ne'er 
have befallen my best friend ! As for his murderer, 
he is in the hands 0' God, in whose name I declare 
that I am innocent ! He knows it ; Jabez Pryke 
knows it, too ; and I can meet him wi' a clear 
conscience. That is all I have to say." 

The judge was apparently more unmanned than 
the prisoner. With trembling hands he put on 
the black cap. As he proceeded to pass sentence, 
his voice was choked with emotion. Tears streamed 



I70 RACHEL DENE. 

down bis aged cheeks ; nor his alone, for there 
was scarcely a dry eye in the place. 

When, at length, the last awful words were 
uttered, the condemned turned, and rapidly left 
the dock. As he did so, a piercing scream rang 
through the stillness. The veiled lady between 
Jacob Dene and the vicar fell swooning to the 
floor, and the court broke up in a tumult of excite- 
ment and confusion. 



CHAPTER XX. 

UNDER SENTENCE OF DEATH. 

When overhauling the debris of Jabez Pryke's 
rifled cash-box, Jacob Dene came upon a rough 
memorandum of the remittances received by the 
morning's post on the day of the murder. There 
were Bank of England notes to the value of two 
hundred pounds, drafts payable at sight for 
upwards of five or six hundred more, besides 
acceptances for various amounts. Payment of 
the notes was immediately stopped, although no 
notification to this effect was published. This 
precaution was adopted in the hope that the thief 
— always assuming the notes to be stolen — might 
be taken off his guard, and therefore induced to 
present them for payment. 

Their disappearance was the one missing link 
of evidence against Jack Heywood. His statement 



UNDER SENTENCE OF DEATH. 171 

before the judge coincided entirely with the theory 
that these notes and drafts might have been stolen 
by a third person. 

Assuming, for the sake of argument, that in 
some aberration of intellect, caused by his mad 
drunkenness, Jack had broken into the counting- 
house for the purpose of robbery, that he had 
been discovered in the act by Jabez, that a 
deathly struggle had then ensued, there could be 
no possibility of doubt of the fact that Jack had 
been actually taken prisoner the next moment; 
hence, had he stolen the notes they must have 
been found upon his person, or about him. They 
were not found upon his person, nor could any 
trace of them be found anywhere. 

That he might have had a drunken quarrel with 
Jabez, that a struggle might have occurred which 
culminated in the awful catastrophe which had 
befallen, was possible, and even probable ; but 
that the lad could be a thief — his whole life and 
character gave the lie to so improbable a sup- 
position. The more Jacob Dene thought of the 
matter, the more he gravitated towards the con- 
clusion that Jack was innocent. But what of that 
if a judge and jury had found him guilty ? He 
was condemned to death, and every day, every 
hour, brought him nearer to his doom. 

Had Jacob needed any incentive to exertion, he 
would have found it on all hands, both at home 
and abroad. At home, from morning to night, 
his wife and his granddaughter dinned into his 



172 RACHEL DENE. 

ears, "Jack Heywood is innocent, and must bo 
saved." 

It was easy enough to emit that imperative 
" must," but 'twas difficult to give effect to it. 

On Saturday, as the foreman of the mills gave 
utterance to the same opinion, when the hands 
knocked off for the half-holiday at noon they 
mobbed him. The result was that a mass meeting 
was held, a memorial was prepared then and 
there, and signed by every soul capable of signing 
a name or making a mark ; and on Monday morn- 
ing Jacob himself, accompanied by Grainger, the 
solicitor, and Kachel, set off to town, taking the 
memorial with them. 

Immediately on their arrival they went down to 
the House of Commons, where they obtained an 
interview with the member for Barford, who took 
them to the Home Secretary's private room. This 
important functionary promised to communicate 
with the judge who tried the case, and if the 
circumstances required investigation, to give the 
matter consideration. 

"If they require investigation!" burst out 
Rachel. *' They do demand it, sir. An innocent 
man is about to be put to death, and thou canst 
gave him ! " 

"My dear young lady," replied the Secretary, 
"I can do nothing of the kind; I cannot over- 
rule the law. People arrive at the conclusion that 
I am all-powerful, but I am as much the servant 
of the law as the humblest police officer," 



UNDER SENTENCE OF DEATH. 173 

" But he is innocent, sir ! " 

"I have been told that of many murderers. 
The other day I was assailed with a general howl 
of execration because I declined to interfere with 
the sentence passed on a cold-blooded assassin, 
who, within an hour of his execution, confessed 
that he had murdered his victim under circum- 
stances of unutterable atrocity." 

"But this man is no assassin. He is the best 
and bravest of men. He loved the murdered man 
from childhood. The murderer is a thief, who 
stole the money, and Jack Heywood never stole a 
farthing in his life." 

"Well, well," said the Home Secretary, "I 
promise you the first hour I can spare from more 
pressing duties." 

" More pressing ! " interrupted Eachel. " None 
can be so pressing as this. His life is in danger." 

" The prisoner has an eloquent advocate." 

"Nay, not an eloquent, but an earnest one, 
sir," sobbed Kachel. "He saved my life, snatched 
me from the jaws of death, and I should take 
shame to myself were I to pause at any means to 
save him. Oh, do, sir, do, pray, see to it at once 
— now, this instant ! For God's sake, save 
him ! " 

"Have you the papers about you?" inquired 
the Secretary of Grainger. 

" They are here, sir," said he, presenting them. 

" Very well ; I will look over them to-night 
when I get home ; and if I see any cause for in- 



174 RACHEL DENE. 

terference I will communicate with the judge at 



once." 



*' May we see thee again, sir ? " inquired Rachel. 

** Hem, I'm not quite clear about that ; the 
debate on the Address will last for a week or a 
fortnight. Indeed, I ought to be in my place now. 
You will excuse me." 

" But surely, sir, we may see thee again ? " 

** On the whole, I think you had better not ; 
but, on my honour, the matter shall have im- 
mediate attention, and my secretary shall acquaint 
you with the result." 

With this cold comfort, he left them. 

It was now Monday night, and the execution 
was fixed for the following Monday. 

Six days from doom and death ! 

It was well for the Home Secretary that ho had 
resolved to grant no further interview, for this 
intractable young lady haunted the Home Office, 
morning, noon, and night for the next two days. 

Though the great man himself was unapproach- 
able, his secretary was daily visible. He alleged 
that the chief had looked through the papers, but 
could not decide upon the matter till he had 
heard from the judge, to whom he had already 
written. 

His lordship was on circuit. 

" Where is his lordship ? " 

" At York." 

" We'll go there at once, grandfather." 

** It will be useless ; the judge will not see us." 



UNDER SENTENCE OF DEATH. 175 

"He shall see us, and hear us, too!" cried 
Eachel. 

It was idle to remonstrate with her, and to 
York they went by the mail train — Grainger 
and all. 

It was two o'clock on Thursday morning when 
they reached the Anstruther Hotel. 

By daybreak they were at the judge's lodgings. 
They might as well have stayed in town, for the 
judge was obdurate, and declined to see them. 
That day Eachel wrote quires of letters and scores 
of telegrams to his lordship, which all reached the 
same destination — the waste-paper basket. 

Hour after hour passed while she waited im- 
patiently for answers which never came. She 
could not eat, or drink, or sleep. 

Burning with a fever of unrest, at sunrise she 
hurried out for a walk. Save for the casual 
labourer limping towards his daily toil, or the 
railway porter lazily coming towards the station, 
or the worn-out night policeman crawling home 
from his last beat, the city was still at rest. 
Crossing the railway-station, she walked down 
towards the Minster. Contemplating its rare 
quaint beauty with but languid interest, she 
hurried back and ascended the city walls, and 
strolled towards the Barbican. 

It was now Friday morning. Only three days 
more, and then 

What was Jack doing now ? Was he thinking 
of her? Did he know that she was devoting 



176 RACHEL DENE, 

every energy of blood, and Lone, and brain to 
his rescue ? Of course he knew that she beheved 
him innocent ; she had written to say so ; she 
had told the old people ; she had told everybody 
so a thousand times. 

Three days — only three days ! 

By this time she had crossed the Barbican, and 
had reached the walls which overhang the Con- 
vent. The nuns had turned forth for their con- 
stitutional after matins. As she leant down to 
look at them, they melted into air, and she saw, 
or thought she saw, a prison — a condemned cell 
— a face— his face, piteously, but speechlessly, 
appealing to her. While she still gazed, the 
mirage melted into the morning mist, and the 
mist itself faded away before the sun, which rose 
red as blood from behind the Convent. 

With a gesture of despair she threw her arms 
aloft, crying, "Oh, God! must he die? Is there 
no help ? — no hope ? " As she spoke the words, 
she came face to face with a little gentleman, clad 
in a shabby, old-fashioned coat and vest, with a 
haggy pair of Oxford-grey continuations somewhat 
too short for his stumpy little legs, and disclosing 
half an inch of white stocking between their 
extremities and his loose-tied clumsy shoes. His 
body was too small for his head, which was broad 
and massive, and covered with a thatch of snowy 
whiteness. A pair of shaggy eyebrows, black as a 
blacking-brush, surmounted the eye of a lynx, the 
beak of an eagle, and the mouth of a badger. A 



UNDER SENTENCE OF DEATH. 177 

huge white neckcloth was twisted in convoluted 
folds round his neck — the white cambric frill of 
his shirt was stained with snuff, with which he ever 
and anon furnished his nose in great pinches from 
his vestcoat pocket. 

To complete his incongruous appearance, he 
wore a shabby felt parson's hat, pulled down over 
his brows after the fashion of the Plantagenet 
period. 

This gentleman's face w^as cast in no ordinary 
mould — once seen, it was not easily forgotten. 
She had seen it once before. Then it was sur- 
rounded with a horse-hair wig, and he was in the 
act of placing a little black cap upon it ; the scene 
— the voice — the face — came back to her as if by 
inspiration. 

Throwing herself before him, she cried, " God 
hath not brought thee here for nothing. I am 
Eachel Dene ! The man condemned to death at 
Leeds a little while ago is innocent ! Save him, 
or at least grant time for his innocence to be 
proved." 

The old gentleman gave a long, low whistle, 
and muttered to himself, "Here's a pretty kettle 
of fish ! D d hard a man can't take a con- 
stitutional or look at a pretty girl without being 
let in for an arrangement of this kind." 

Although she heard him mumbling, she could 
not distinguish a word of what he said. 

** Thou dost not speak," she continued. "For 
God's sake give me some hope." 



178 RACHEL DENE. 

"I'm not clear," he replied sturdily, ''that I 
ought not to commit you for contempt of court for 
sending me those indiscreet letters, and those 
audacious telegrams ; or, at least, to give you in 
charge to the nearest police magistrate. But I 
never could say no to a pair of bright eyes in my 
life ; so get up, pray, lady, and dry your eyes, and 
don't snivel — zounds, don't snivel, but listen ! " 

"Yes, yes," sobbed Eachel. 

"I shall be in town to-morrow night, and will 
see the Home Secretary. Beyond that, I can 
say nothing. Though the heavens should fall, 
justice shall be done — that, and nothing more or 
less." 

Then, with a kind of grim, cynical humour, he 
continued, "Now get you gone, you handsome 
hussy ! If you are wise — though I suppose it's 
idle to expect a woman that's pretty to be prudent 
— forget that you have seen me. That'll do. 
There, you needn't kiss my hand." 

The next minute, with an activity beyond his 
years, the old gentleman had disappeared down 
the Barbican. 

When she returned to the hotel, Eachel made 
an attempt at breakfast — a poor one ; still, it was 
an attempt. 

"While she was hesitating how to break the ice 
for the journey, Grainger came from the Castle 
•with news to the effect that the assizes would 
terminate on the morrow, and that the judge 
would return to town that night by the express. 



UNDER SENTENCE OF DEATH. 179 

**We had better get back at once, grandpa'," 
said Eacbel. 

So to town they went, having previously tele- 
graphed Joan and Jasper to meet them at 
Wakefield, when they paused for five minutes to 
tell the old couple that every effort was being 
made for the reversal of the sentence. 

Both Jacob Dene and Grainger urged upon the 
Heywoods not to buoy up Jack with false hopes. 
Eachel, however, sent her assurance of his 
innocence, and off they sped to town. 

That night she slept a little, but woke at day- 
break to go over her interview with the judge, to 
recall his words, his tones, his looks. He would 
be in town to-night ; and then — then, only twenty- 
four hours more. 

Were she a man she could go forth amongst the 
multitude which seethed up and down the Strand 
beneath the windows of the hotel. Being a girl, 
she could only sit still and sufi"er — no, not sit still, 
for she paced wildly to and fro. They tried to 
console her ; but she had no thought for any one 
save the man who lay under sentence of death 
down yonder. 

At length night came, and with it came a cruel, 
crawling fog, which wrapped the busy thoroughfare 
in darkness, through which only a gleam of some 
funereal torch could be seen, while a roar of hoarse 
voices arose from the pandemonium beneath. 
Presently the fog penetrated into the very room 
in which they sat, peopling it with phantoms. It 



i8o RACHEL DENE, 

was in vain that Jacob Dene piled the" huge grate 
with fuel ; the fog remained triumphant, and they 
could scarcely see to the other end of the room. 

By-and-by, Grainger glided in, grim, and grey, 
and ghastly. 

" The train has been two hours late," he gasped 
hoarsely; "but the judge has arrived, and has 
driven home to Berkeley Square." 

" Will he not see the Home Secretary to-night ? " 

** It is now eleven ; and to venture out again in 
such a fog as this would be to tamper with his life." 

" His life ! — his / " At that moment she thought 
of only one life in the world. 

Dawn broke cold and wet, and the hours sped 
faster and faster still, till the sun gave place to 
shade. 

Night was falling on Kirkdale Gaol. 

With beating hearts, Jasper and Joan Heywood 
■were taking their last leave of the lad they loved 
so well, when Eachel Dene burst into the prison, 
bearing the news that his punishment was com- 
muted to penal servitude for life ! 



CHAPTER XXI. 

PRISON WALLS. 

When the news reached Calais that Heywood's 
life had been spared, it exercised a salutary effect 
on the young Earl's health. 
Ealph got better daily, and in about a month's 



PRISON WALLS. 18 1 

time he was well enough to return to England. 
While he was travelling to town hy the tidal train, 
Jack Heywood was travelling in the same direction 
from another point of departure. The Earl was 
fashionably attired, and a first-class saloon car 
was reserved for him and his friends. Jack was 
clad in a hideous suit of home-spun, marked with 
the broad arrow, and he and his friends — upwards 
of four and twenty of the greatest ruffians in 
England — were securely handcuffed to each other, 
and packed like cattle into a fourth-class compart- 
ment. 

Our hero's journey was uneventful enough, save 
for one incident. To be sure, his new acquaint- 
ances beguiled the time with conversation full of 
obscenity and blas^Dhemy ; but, as far as he was 
concerned, they might have been talking in an 
unknown tongue. He sat near the window, and 
looked listlessly at the ever-changing panorama as 
the train whirled by ; but neither sight nor sound 
made the least impression on his darkened brain. 

At last, however, he heard the cry of '* Don- 
caster ! " and at the same sound he awoke with 
a shudder of horror. In an instant it all came 
back to him. That fatal Leger — the Grand Stand 
— the drink — the fight — her pale face, with its 
disdainful and reproachful look. Jabez, too ! 
There was the refreshment-room opposite — where 
he had smashed the champagne bottles. Strange, 
too, the very girl who waited behind the bar then 
was now drawing tea from an urn. 



1 82 RACHEL DENE. 

As he looked forth, she canght sight of him. He 
shrank back, and hid himself in the corner — hut 
it "was too late ; she had seen him. 

The first bell rang. The passengers streamed 
out of the room and into the train. The girl came 
running out with a cup of tea in one hand and a 
jug of milk in the other. 

Approaching the carriage, she said to Jack, 
" Sup, lad ! It'll not scald thee ; see, this is new 
milk." 

His heart came to his mouth with a jump, and 
if it hadn't been for the ruffianly eyes upon him, 
he could have cried like a child. 

As it was, he gulped down his emotion, and said, 
"Nay, thank ye ; I cannot drink ! " 

" But you must ! " replied the girl; "you will, 
to please me." 

He took the tea, and drank it. 

** God bless thee, lass ! " he gasjDed. 

" God bless thee, too, lad ! " she responded, 
*' and bring thee safe through." 

The ruffians around were subdued to silence, and 
tears came from more than one case-hardened 
heart as the train glided away towards Peter- 
borough. 

When they got to King's Cross the van awaited 
them, and they were driven rapidly to Brixton. 
On their arrival at the prison, they were shunted 
into an open space for examination by the officials. 

Their irons were now taken off, and they were 
checked and counted like so many beasts of 



PRISON WALLS. 183 

burthen. A receipt was given for them, and a 
soldierly man, in an undress military uniform, 
read the prison rules in a harsh voice, especially 
impressing upon the new arrivals that they must 
observe perpetual silence towards each other, and 
that any breach of discipline would entail so many 
days upon the crank, accompanied by bread and 
water. 

The intelligence was received with a growl that 
was peremptorily suppressed. 

Then the warder selected Jack and a fellow- 
prisoner about the same height, and beckoned 
them to follow into a large shed, inside which they 
found a bath-room. Here they were ordered to 
strip, and get into the bath. Jack's companion 
evidently understood the process. At any rate, 
he stripped from head to foot, plunged in and out 
again on the other side, and slipped into a new 
suit of prison clothes, marked with a number, and 
certain hieroglyphics known to the initiated. 

At first. Jack was disposed to kick at this 
revolting business, but, finding the water clean, 
and that he was surrounded by half a dozen 
stalwart six-footers, he concluded not to resist. 
"When he had finished his ablutions, he was con- 
ducted to his cell, an apartment four feet wide, by 
seven feet long, and seven feet high. A small 
pane of glass from the inside, and a somewhat 
larger from the outside, lighted up the place, 
discovering a hammock, mattress, a blanket, 
and a pair of sheets, some straps and hooks, a 



1 84 RACHEL DENE. 

stool, a pannikin, a copper washing-basin, and a 
Bible. 

The warder under whose charge he was placed, 
said, '* You seem a decent chap, and are not up 
to this game ; take a straight tip — if you want to 
do your time easy, and shorten your stretch, keep 
your crib clean as a new pin; don't talk, don't 
grumble, do what you're told, and, above all, don't 
ask any questions. Baggin will be round in half 
an hour, and you can turn in to roost for the 
night." 

The door closed with a bang, was locked, barred, 
and bolted, and Jack was alone, or rather he 
thought he was ; but just as he had arrived at the 
conclusion that, at any rate, he was rid of his 
loathsome companions, he heard a scratching noise 
from the other side of the partition to his cell. 
Presently the sound was repeated — there came a 
scratch from the other side, and another. He 
didn't know what to make of it. 

At last a voice whispered, " Mate, are you one 
of the new chums ? " 

Before he could reply, from the other side came 
the inquiry, " Mate, do you come from the smoke 
or the steel ? " 

" I don't understand," he replied. 

"Don't you? Then where the blazes do you 
come from ? " 

** Yorkshire," he replied. 

" Yorkshire?" continued his interlocutor. ** The 
Yorkshire tykes are the downiest coves in the gang. 



PRISON WALLS. 185 

In course, you've got some stuff? Sling us a 
wing ! " 

*' A wing?" 

"A pinch of stuff!" 

"What stuff?" 

''What stuff ? Why, baccy, to be sure ! " 

** I haven't got any ! " 

" You Yorkshire ? Why, you're a regular wing ! " 

This interesting colloquy was interrupted by a 
loud, strident voice. 

" What's this ? What's this ? Prisoners talk- 
ing against regulations ! No. 91, I shall report 
you to-morrow ! Here's your baggln ! " 

With that, the door was unbolted, and an 
attendant threw a lump of bread and a can of hot 
cocoa into Jack's hands. By this time Jack was 
hungry, so he devoured it eagerly. Half an hour 
afterwards he got out his hammock, and slung it. 
Five minutes later he fell fast asleep ; body and 
soul were wearied out. When, at last, he awoke, 
he could scarcely realize where he was ; but the 
next minute it was all clear enough. He was a 
prisoner for life. For life ! — for life ! How could 
he ever live through it ? 

It was now broad day, and the warder opened 
the door. 

"Attention, No. 91!" he said, in a whisper. 
" I'm not a-going to report you for last night, but 
mind it don't happen again ! If you behave your- 
self, I'll get you put on a good gang among some 
decent fellows." 



IS6 RACHEL DENE. 

At this moment the bell struck four. 
"■ Now pack up your traps ! It only requires a 
little knack ; I'll show you how to do it. That's 
your sort ! In half an hour baggin will be served 
out ; then you've an hour to do what you like with 
before chapel." 

As yet, Jack retained his appetite, and he did 
ample justice to his bread and cocoa. "When 
chapel time came, he was ordered to fall in 
amongst a hundred or more men, of all sorts, 
shapes, and sizes, all clad in the same hideous 
uniform of crime — all with cropped heads and 
clipped beards ; some with foreheads villainously 
low, and the furtive, restless eye of the habitual 
criminal; some with features and demeanours 
which spoke of refinement, but few of remorse. 
All regarded him with eager, anxious eyes. 
He looked, endeavouring vainly to descry some 
of the companions of yesterday's journey; but 
evidently they were locked in another part of the 
prison. 

As the word " Fall in — quick march ! " was 
given, they went sharply down the corridor towards 
the chapel. 

The service was somewhat inarticulately set 
forth by a sandy-haired youth, evidently not yet out 
of his first sleep. At a signal the pious congrega- 
tion fell upon their knees and began to murmur 
the responses; then on either side of the new- 
comer, under cover of their prayer-books, the 
thieves whisper in half a dozen dissonant voices. 



PRISON WALLS, 187 

" Are you a new chum ? " " How long have you 
got?" "Are you a lifer? or is it only a few 
years' stretch ? " " What are you in for ? " 

These were something like the words, denuded 
of the blasphemy by which they were preceded 
and followed. 

Being a man of the people, Jack had been 
accustomed to hear his friends garnish their daily 
talk with strong adjectives and other ornaments of 
speech, but the filth and obscenity which now 
assailed his ears made every drop of decent blood 
in his body boil with a loatliing he could not con- 
ceal. Truly the House of God seemed changed to 
a Gehenna. 

After chapel he was taken before the doctor, who 
examined him as to his bodily health ; then before 
the curate, who examined him as to his health 
spiritual; after that he was conducted to the 
prison-barber, who cropped his head close to his 
poll, but spared his virgin beard, which, in truth, 
was only just beginning to sprout ; then he was 
taken before the Governor, who was fortunately a 
soldier and a gentleman. 

He took stock of the new prisoner, gave him 
permission to write home, which he did at once, 
and handed the letter to the warder for govern- 
mental inspection. The warder, in his turn, took 
stock of Jasper's address, with results to be here- 
after chronicled. 

When the letter was despatched Jack was 
ordered out for exercise. He prowled round and 



iS8 RACHEL DENE. 

round the yard, following a shambling lot of gaol 
birds, who, despite the presence of the officer on 
guard, tried to incite him to conversation. He 
had no heed for them ; he had only one thought — 
escape. But as he looked at the huge walls, 
surrounded with their impregnable buttresses ; the 
iron-barred windows ; the massive, iron-bound, 
oaken doors, trebly barred and bolted, hope died 
away in his heart. 

It was still early in the day, and he was now 
taken to join the new company to which by the 
Governor's order he was allotted. In a large 
central hall, on stools apart from each other, sat 
forty or fifty men, variously emiDloyed ; some were 
mending clothes ; some, very old men, were knit- 
ting stockings ; other men, apparently of a superior 
class, were colouring maps at a bench set apart 
for the purpose. To the last detachment he was 
conducted, and as this was a sort of thing to which 
he was accustomed, he soon polished off his work, 
and paused to take stock of his companions. 

Despite the regulation as to silence, and the 
repeated interference of the warders, these men 
were as communicative as they were inquisitive. 
One vouchsafed the information that he was a 
barrister, who, in a moment of aberration of 
intellect, confounded a friend's signature with his 
own ; another alleged that he had been a banker, 
who had made indiscreet speculations ; a third was 
an author who had a misfortune ; a fourth a sea- 
captain who was a victim to a conspiracy on the 



PRISON WALLS. 189 

part of some unknown seamen ; some alleged they 
were innocent ; others, on the contrary, boasted of 
their guilt. 

Presently they were all ordered to return to their 
cells for the midday meal, which consisted of 
meat, bread, and potatoes. A couple of hours' 
rest followed, for those who were so disposed ; but 
for Jack there was no rest. Was there no means 
of escape ? he asked himself again and again. He 
would find a way, or make one. 

Were they thinking of him at home ? he won- 
dered. Of course they were; there could be no 
doubt about that. There could be no doubt, more- 
over, that they believed in his innocence. But 
she — did she believe him innocent ? He thought 
she did ; indeed, he knew in his heart of hearts 
she did. He thought, too, that she might have 
loved him if he only had had the chance to woo 
and win her ; but no, it was all over ! 

Another bell, afternoon work, the evening meal, 
then locked up for the night. 

Presently a warder came round with orders. 

** Put your brooms under the door for candles." 

Looking down, he saw a gap of some four inches 
between the door and the floor. Instinctively he 
shoved forth his broom, and a lighted candle was 
shoved into his cell by a convict who accompanied 
the warder. The door was slammed and locked, 
and they passed on. 

The schoolmaster had given him " Sir John 
Mandeville's Travels " to read. He tried to in- 



190 RACHEL DENE. 

terest himself in the quaint old mariner's story, 
but the letters danced up and down before him, 
for his heart was far away. 

The candle fell upon the floor. Even the light 
had been a companion, and now that it was out he 
was alone with his sad thoughts and his despair. 

Amidst the silence came the crafty scratch of 
the night before on the iron partition which sepa- 
rated him from his neighbour. This time he 
scratched in reply. Quick as thought came the 
thieves' whisper he was beginning to understand. 

''Mate?" 

"Well?" 

"What have you doused the glim for ? '' 

" It fell down and went out." 

" Then sling it under the door, here to the 
right." 

"What for?" 

"What for! Why, you don't suppose I want 
to curl my hair with it, do you ? " 

" But you have a light burning ? " 

" In course I have. But I don't want yonr*n for 
burning ; I want it for eating. I am that 'ungry, 
I could eat a bullock ! " 

Jack couldn't withstand this appeal, and he 
slung out his candle to his voracious neighbour, 
who scraped it into his cell with his broom, whis- 
pering, " Jolly good luck to you, Yorkshire ; if 
ever you're up a tree, and I can give you a lift, 
count on Ginger ! " 

Presently came the last bell, and the prison was 



PRISON WALLS, 191 

at rest. Fortunately, tired nature took compas- 
Bion upon poor Jack, who for a time forgot his 
troubles in the blest nepenthe of sleep. 

Thus passed a week or more in the dreary 
routine of prison life, until a letter came from 
Deepdale, so soft, so tender, and so sacred, that 
it inspired him with hope. Were all the world in 
arms against him, he was sure of the love of those 
two fond and faithful hearts. She, too, had been 
to inquire after him; she still believed him inno- 
cent. Ah, there was some comfort left ; and after 
all, he was young, and life was strong within him ; 
but, indeed, it was his ever-abounding vitality 
which, apart from the degradation, made prison 
life so hateful to him. 

Jones, the friendly warder, took an early oppor- 
tunity of informing him that he, too, had heard 
from Jasper Heywood, who had sent him money. 
This was news indeed ! If Jack liked he could 
have "stuff" (tobacco). He didn't care for 
** stuff ; " but Jones thought a little might bo 
desirable to conciliate his neighbours, this being 
the luxury most prayed by these unhappy wretches. 
Tobacco was accordingly got, and Jack doled it 
out liberally amongst his immediate chums, with 
the result that "Yorkshire" became amazingly 
popular, more especially with a certain sandy- 
haired gent, with a twist in his eye, who confi- 
dentially informed him that he was "Ginger," his 
next door neighbour. 

Thanks to the underground communication thus 



192 RACHEL DENE, 

established, through Jones, Jack was enabled to 
write home once a week, and got an answer the 
next. 

He was glad to hear that the invention was a 
great and pronounced success, and that Jacob 
Dene had behaved most handsomely in the matter. 
Every week a considerable sum was placed in the 
bank to Jasper Heywood's account, who held it in 
trust for Jack. 

By this time he had grown tired of colouring 
maps, so he asked and obtained permission for 
active work, and was put at the head of the build- 
ing gang. 

One day the Governor called him. 

"No. 91," said he, "you have a clean slate and 
a good record, without a single black mark. Every 
good mark goes towards the remission of your 
sentence; and, if you mind what you are about, 
it will be remitted to five and twenty years, perhaps 
even less. Think of that." 

He did think of it ; he thought of nothing else 
by day or night. Five and twenty years ! It might 
as well be five and twenty thousand ! Long before 
five years had passed, Eachel Dene would be 
married to Ealph Hollis, perhaps the mother of 
Ealph's children. There was madness in the very 
thought. 

If he could get out — if he could only see her — 
speak to her ! 

Time was getting on, days had lengthened into 
weeks, weeks into months, months were crawling 



ANOTHER CHANGE. 193 

up until tliG end of the year was at hand — the end 
of the period when Jack Hey wood would have passed 
his probation at Brixton, and be transferred to 
Portland, Portsmouth, or Dartmoor. From those 
penal settlements escape was impossible ! 



CHAPTER XXir. 

ANOTHER CHANGE. 

At last one day the Black Maria drove up to the 
door of Brixton Gaol, and a tall, gaunt man, clad 
in convict's garb, and heavily ironed on either 
hand to two armed warders, slipped out of the 
]3rison into the van, followed by a third officer. 

No one, not even Joan Heywood, would have 
recognized the prisoner, but the convict in question 
was No. 91 — in other words, Jack Heywood. 

Upon arriving at the railway-station, he and his 
guards were rapidly conducted to a compartment 
especially reserved for them ; the third officer 
returned to the booking-office, took four tickets, 
despatched a telegram, rejoined his friends laden 
with newspapers and refreshments, solid and 
liquid. 

Tickets were duly examined, the bell rang, and 
off went the train. 

"Now, No. 91," said the officer in charge, play- 
fully, "we don't want to make matters more dis- 
agreeable than is necessary. Them revolvers are 





194 RACHEL DENE. 

loaded; we shan't use the things unless we're 
obleeged, but we've got to hand you over alive or 
dead at Dartmoor. Which is to be ? " 

"I don't care which," replied Jack, listlessly. 

"Oh, that's all nonsense! You're only a lad 
yourself, and while there's life there's hope ; you 
don't know what may turn up. Anyhow, what I've 
got to say is this : If you'll give us your word not 
to try no tricks with us, we'll take them bracelets 
off your wrists, and you can smoke your pipe, and 
read the papers, and enjoy yourself; and if you 
like to make one at a game of * nap,' why I sha'n't 
say no." 

** Take these cursed things off," replied Jack, 
''and I pledge you my word I'll ne'er trouble 
you!" 

As much to the relief of Jack's captors as him- 
self, the handcuffs were taken off. 

"Have a smoke ?" inquired the affable officer. 

*• No, thanks." 

" Have the paper, then ? " 

" Thanks ! " 

He took the paper, and glanced over it listlessly. 
There was nothing in it to interest him, so he 
looked through the window. 

As he took in the ever-changing beauty of hill 
and dale, of wood and water, his thoughts reverted 
to the peaceful Yorkshire valley, the village 
churchyard where his mother lay sleeping, and 
the old house at home, and those who loved him 
there. 



ANOTHER CHANGE. 195 

" What is the reason I have not heard from my 
grandfather?" he inquired abruptly. 

"I don't know," repHed one of the men. 

"Look here, lads!" said Jack, eagerly; "I'vo 
got twenty pounds ! " 

'* The devil you have ! Why, you've been 
searched over and over again ! How did you 
manage to hide it ? " 

"Never mind; that's my business! I'll give 
you ten pounds of it if you'll post me a letter ! " 

" Hand it over, then ! " said the officer, smiHng 
at his comrades. 

Extracting a twenty-pound Bank of England 
note from the lining of his jacket, Jack handed it 
over to the officer, who said quietly, " I'll get 
change at the next station." 

When he got to the station he jumped out, 
changed the note at the booking-office for ten 
sovereigns and ten-pound note, and bought at the 
bookstall a couple of sheets of note-paper, an 
envelope, an automatic pencil ; then he bought a 
bottle of whisky in the refreshment-room, and, 
thus armed, returned to the carriage. 

" There you are. No. 91 ; there's your tenner ! 
Now, Tom, there's three pound for you ; three for 
you, Dick ; three for this child ; and another for 
the party who negotiated the transaction! Now 
just a taste to wet the bargain ! " 

Then he opened the bottle of whisky, and sent 
it round, returned to his pipe and his game of 
nap, while Jack wrote his letter. It occupied 



196 RACHEL DENE, 

him some time, and took him a little out of his 
trouble. 

When he had finished and sealed it, he gave 
it to the officer, who faithfully undertook to 
post it. 

The journey was long and fatiguing to the 
officers, but Jack could have wished it twice as 
long, for it was still a glimpse of freedom, the last 
he would have for many a day. The warders grew 
very jolly over their pipes and whisky, and, at last, 
they prepared their dinner, and invited Jack to 
join them, which he did. 

Even a warder is a man — that is, when he's not 
on duty ; and as these fellows began to talk about 
house and home, and wife and bairns. Jack's heart 
softened to them. Their jollity was contagious. 
He thought he would like a pipe ; they gave him 
one, and as he saw the blue fumes ascending, and 
the blue waves toying with the bosom of the white 
shore, or coyly kissing the bases of the crimson 
tors, he remembered that, after all, he was only 
three and twenty; that there are many years 
betwixt that and three score and ten ; that while 
there's life there's hope ; and finally, that time and 
he were a match against any other two. 

Night was falling when they reached Portland, 
manacled together, as they were at the beginning 
of the journey. 

His last words before they entered the prison 
were, " You won't forget the letter ? " 

The officer nodded. Some writing took place, 



ANOTHER CHANGE, 197 

and some official documents were exchanged. 
While this was being done, one of the officials said 
to the officer in charge, " I scarcely know where to 
put him, for there's been the devil to pay within 
the past few days ! There's been a mutiny — had 
to call in the sojers — and some of the ringleaders 
are going to catch toko to-morrow. I expect 
they'll get it hot, for our old man won't stand any 
nonsense ! Let me see, Jackson," he continued ; 
"you must put the prisoner into cell No. 171. We 
can arrange about his billet to-morrow; it's too 
late to-night." 

Jack shook hands with his friendly escort, whis- 
pered once more " The letter ! " and was led to his 
oell, where he soon fell fast asleep. 

He awoke refreshed. To his astonishment, he 
was not called up as early as usual. Habit had, 
however, become second nature, and up he jumped. 
As soon as he was stirring came the usual scratch- 
ing on either side, and the usual inquiries from 
unknown companions. 

From these interlocutors he gathered corrobo- 
ration of the officer's story about the mutiny. One 
or two of the ringleaders had been shot down ; 
others were to be stripped up to the triangles that 
morning. 

Presently breakfast was served ; the men, how- 
ever, in this part of the prison, were all confined to 
their cells — an unusual occurrence, which was 
explained, however, later on, when the cracks of 
the cat, and the shrieks of the wretches under the 



198 RACHEL DENE, 

lash, rang through the corridors. At the sound of 
a punishment, a chorus of sympathy arose from 
every cell, and filled the place. 

" Silence there ! " roared a strident voice. 

Every man was silent, for he knew not whose 
turn might be next. The door of Jack's cell was 
suddenly unlocked ; the same voice called out 
"No. 91, step out. Eight about face — quick 
march ! " 

Following his guide past the quadrangle, he saw 
a sight which he never forgot, which he never will 
forget to his dying day. 

In the centre of the square three half-naked 
men, tied up to the triangles, were writhing and 
shrieking beneath the cat, which was being vigor- 
ously applied to their bare backs. A company of 
soldiers, armed with guns and bayonets, formed 
round the square. Ten or twelve men were being 
led half-flayed alive to their cells, or, presumably, 
to the infirmary. 

These, then, were the mutineers ; and an awful 
set of ruffians they looked. As they staggered 
along, their yells of agony and their revolting 
blasphemies filled the air. At this moment Jack 
almost canoned against a convict with a black face 
and a bag of soot thrown over his shoulder. 

" You here, Yorkshire ? " said a familiar voice. 
" I thought you'd taken your hook." 

" Ginger ! " exclaimed Jack. 

" Yes, Ginger. Brixton was purgatory ; but this 
is hell ! " 



ANOTHER CHANGE. 199 

" Silence ! " roared the officer, and the man 
passed on. 

When Jack found himself in the presence of a 
stern military-looking man of three score and 
upwards, he brought himself to attention, and 
executed the requisite salute. 

** Name and register ? " demanded the Go- 
vernor's clerk. 

"Name, Heywood ; I have no register yet," 
replied Jack. 

*' Officer, see that this man has a register. 
Prisoner, we have a good record in your favour 
from Brixton, so we'll give you a chance. Only 
mind, no nonsense ; you've seen how we deal with 
mutiny here. Take him away." 

The next moment he was led out of the office, 
and conducted towards the bath-room. The water 
looked cleaner ; besides, as he had it all to himself, 
he rather enjoyed it than otherwise. Ten minutes 
later he found himself in a room filled with photo- 
graphs of prisoners. Here he encountered Ginger 
disguised in a clean face. He had had his 
photograph taken twice, once in his prison dress, 
and once in a kind of nondescript civilian costume, 
which comprised in one and the same garment, 
coat, vest, shirt, neck-cloth. 

" Ha, Yorkshire ! " said the voice of Ginger ; 
** come to have your pictur' taken ? Mine's first 
rate. I'm goin' to ax the cove to let me have one 
to send home to the old ooman." 

"Silence !— clear out ! " said a warder. 



200 RACHEL DENE. 

Ginger disappeared, and another convict 
emerged from the inner room. 

" This way," said the warder, as he led Jack to 
the studio. 

The photographer, who was himself a convict, 
was busily arranging the camera. 

" Sit down yonder," said he brusquely, " and 
put your head in the rest." 

" To be handed down as a thief, in a thief's 
dress ! I decline ! " 

"Now, my man," said the warder, " do listen to 
reason, or you'll get into trouble." 

" You may spare your speech. I won't be taken 
in this infamous garb ! " 

" Then we shall have to tie you down." 

♦' You'd better not." 

Again the warder sounded his whistle, again 
came two of his myrmidons, and another conflict 
occurred, during which the camera was smashed to 
pieces, and Jack was overpowered and ironed, and 
taken before the Governor. 

" Six days dry bread and cold water, and a hun- 
dred marks. Lock him up ! " was all the autocrat 
vouchsafed to utter. 

That night Jack was famished with hunger. 

Directly after the lights were out, he heard a 
scratching at the wall. As soon as he scratched 
in reply, there came the thieves' whisper, to which 
he was now becoming accustomed. 

" Hi, Yorkshire ! " 

♦'Here!" 



ANOTHER CHANGE. 201 

" I'm Ginger ! " 

"Where are you? " 

" Here to the right ! Hist ! I sweep the 
chimbleys, and have the run of the shop. I've 
got some grub for you — some toke and a piece of 
cold beef. I'm a-going to sling it under the door ; 
put your broom out ! Got it ? " 

" Yes ! " 

" That's right ! Old Jenkins won't starve you 
while Ginger can nobble a bit ! " 

" AVho's Jenkins ? " 

** Your warder ! " 

Thanks ta Ginger, " Old Jenkins " did not quite 
starve his prisoner. 

At the end of his six days, Jenkins came and 
marched Jack once more towards the photo- 
grapher's studio. This time he positively refused 
to enter the room. 

"All right, my lad," said Jenkins. "Now will 
you walk to the Governor's office, or must we 
carry you? " 

" I'll walk," replied Jack. 

The autocrat was more irate than ever. 

" Nine days' confinement — bread and water — two 
hundred marks — put him into second probation — 
and send him with No. 16 to the West Quarry ! " 

** Please, sir " said Jack. 

" Out with him ! " 

" One moment ! I expect a letter " 

" Obdurate refractories forfeit all right to letters. 
See Regulation No. 19." 



202 RACHEL DENE. 

"But I " 

" Take him away ! " 

Jack went back to bis cell without a word. 
That night Ginger came to the rescue, with a 
hunch of bread, and a slice of boiled mutton. 

"What's second probation?" inquired Jack, 
through a chink in his cell. 

"You'll be moved to the punishment cells — a 
couple o' screws will be told off to look arter you, 
so that nobody can come a-nigh you ; but, never 
you mind, Yorkshire; you can allays depend on 
Ginger! " 

Jack did his nine days, and, thanks to the 
faithful Ginger, came out stronger than he went 
in. Nest day, came two warders to escort him to 
the West Quarries. They were the two fellows 
with whom he had the conflict at the bath. 

"It's our turn, mate, now," said one of these 
gentlemen ; " and see if we don't cry quits ! " 

Jack had made up his mind to control his 
tongue. His escort handed him over to the officer 
in charge of the gang, who gave him a pickaxe, 
and set him at some utterly useless work, after 
giving certain directions. This done, he was set 
apart at a distance of ten or twelve paces from the 
rest of the gang, who worked in couples, tickling 
the ground with their pickaxes, while, desjpite the 
regulations, they laughed and talked to each 
other. 

When they knocked off at meal-times, his two 
friends came and took charge of him, and marched 



ANOTHER CHANGE. 203 

him back to his cell for dinner. No reproaches of 
these fellows could move him to utter a word. 

Back again to work after dinner — back to his 
cell for the evening, still guarded in the same 
manner. But the seclusion to which he was con- 
demned was rather agreeable than otherwise, for 
he was left alone in chapel even, where he had 
now a pew to himself. 

This daily routine was broken by the weekly 
bath — the weekly medical examination — a talk 
with the schoolmaster, who never failed to bring 
him some interesting book — a theological argu- 
ment with the chaplain, and Sunday parade before 
the Governor, and a nightly banquet smuggled 
into his cell by his friend Ginger. Day after day 
he asked for letters, but with the stereotyped 
answer, "None! " 

Then came upon him once more the ferocious 
desire for freedom. Morning, noon, and night, he 
thought of nothing else. In his mad eagerness he 
never paused to calculate the almost absolute im- 
possibility of escape, or that his prison garb would 
inevitably lead to his immediate recapture. He 
remembered, too, that the warders were armed, 
and that, their orders being imperative, they would 
not hesitate to shoot him down if they caught him 
attempting to escape. 

After all, he could but die once, and anything 
was better than this cruel life. If the chance 
came, he would take it. It came sooner than he 
had anticipated. 



204 RACHEL DENE, 

CHAPTEK XXIII. 

CAPTAIN FITZHEKBERT. 

Meanwhile, ■while Ileywood, the convict, was suf- 
fering a hving death, Ealph, the Earl, had come 
back from death to life. But coincident with the 
recovery of his health was the deadening of his 
moral sense. Satisfied that his secret was safe 
with Fitzherbert, he no longer thought of personal 
martyrdom, and his thoughts again set to the old 
centre — Eachel Dene. 

He returned to London, young, handsome, rich, 
courted and admired. What could the heart of 
man desire more ? Unfortunately, however, there 
was a skeleton in his lordship's cupboard which 
gave him no rest by day, no sleep by night, which 
set his fevered blood afire, and drove him forth to 
seek forgetfulness in what men call pleasure. Go 
where he might by day or night, by bed and board, 
he was dogged by two ghostly phantoms — th6 ghost 
of a dead crime, and the present apparition of a 
living trouble. 

There were times, indeed, when Ealph felt in- 
duced to end his misery. He would atone for the 
past — would speak the truth— would accept dis- 
grace, infamy, punishment, and set his rival free. 
These movements of remorse, however, were of 
brief duration ; he kept a smiling face to the world 
while his heart was tortured by ever present agonies 



CAPTAIN FITZHERBERT. 205 

— agonies which AjMi rendered doubly painful to 
bear from the kn^Tddge that his guilty secret was 
known to another. "^- ' 

But although Fitzhcrbert now knew all, his 
attachment to his friend was great, his devotion 
sincere. What he knew he knew, but he kept the 
knowledge to himself, and all reference to the 
subject was tabooed between them. 

To speak the truth, the Captain was just then 
deeply occupied with one object, destined to become 
the main object of his life. The Oriental charms 
of Julia O'Gallagher, with whom he was brought 
into almost daily contact through his intimacy 
with her father, had been too much for his peace 
of mind ; but, with a reticence not too character- 
istic of his class, he kept his feelings to himself, 
and only proved them by a hundred acts of simple 
devotion. He was neither unselfish nor high- 
minded ; he lived to a great extent by professional 
gambling ; he was familiar with every form of dis- 
sipation ; but he was capable, when his affections 
were strongly awakened, of great tenacity and 
faithfulness. Every day strengthened the links of 
the chain which the beautiful girl had woven 
around him. Every day also drew him into closer 
connection with the gay old heathen, her father. 

The Major was floating on thin ice ; when once 
the thaw came, down they must go into the deep 
waters of wrecked reputations. At present the 
fifty or sixty per cent, people were accommodating 
enough, but the end was near at hand. 



2c6 RACHEL DENE. 

Meanwhile, there were cosy dinners and card 
parties at Montpellier Square and elsewhere, picnic 
parties to Lewes and Goodwood, and all the rest 
of it. 

The gallant Major had called upon Mrs. Hollis 
upon his arrival in town, and Julia had accom- 
panied him. The Colonel's widow had been struck 
with the girl's beauty and accomplishments, but 
had instinctively felt that she was a dangerous 
person to be near the Earl ; indeed, she was still 
convinced that there was but one possible bride for 
her darling, and that was the heiress of Deepdale. 

But Julia 0' Gallagher was innocent of any 
designs on the young Earl's heart. She was, con- 
sidering her education and her surroundings, sin- 
gularly pure and unworldly. Had she possessed 
more subtlety and less sincerity, more head and 
less heart ; had she been a little less honourable, 
and a little more unscrupulous ; in fact, had she 
been the least bit wicked, she might have been the 
queen of the demi-mondaine world. 

Consciously or unconsciously, she accepted the 
single devotion of one man. Fitzherbert was not 
a very brilliant person, or a very handsome man, 
but he had plea sant ways, was loyal and devoted, 
modest and manly. Of course, he was not clever ; 
but then, as he remarked to Ealph, *' She was 
clever enough for both." In fact, Julia regarded 
him more as a great mastiff to run her errands, to 
guard her here and there to the theatre or the 
pictures while papa was playing poker at the club. 



CAPTAIN FITZ HERBERT. 207 

The girl was lonely, she had no companions of her 
own sex, while the men of her father's set were 
ostentatious in their admiration of her beauty. 
One fellow of high lineage actually dared to insult 
her. Fitzherbert saw it and said nothing, but he 
thought the more. Next night he picked a quarrel 
"with my lord at the club, ostensibly about cards, 
and thrashed the offender within an inch of his life. 

The Major was present. If there was one thing 
more than another the O'Gallagher delighted in it 
was a fight, and the next morning at breakfast he 
entertained Julia with a full, true, and particular 
account of the combat. 

" How did it begin, papa ? " inquired Julia, un- 
suspiciously. 

"It was something about a murder. My lord 
said something rude to Fitz, and then somehow 
the fight began. But you'll see all about it in the 
evening papers." 

Julia listened with heaving breast and flashing 
eyes, but said nothing. 

The Major had to break a horse, and he disap- 
peared soon after breakfast. The Captain usually 
looked in either before or after luncheon, but 
to-day he did not come at all. Julia missed him 
as she had never missed him before. The day was 
long and dreary ; with a woman's instinct, Julia 
had guessed the truth from the first. She was the 
cause of the encounter, and poor Fitzherbert was 
her champion. She began to love him from that 
moment. 



2o8 RACHEL DENE. 

At last came the evening papers, with a sensa- 
tional account of the fracas of the night before. 

She waited up till her father came home. She 
looked down from the landing on to the hall below. 
When she found the Major was alone she hurried 
away with a sigh of disappointment, and crept up 
to bed. But not to sleep ; there was little sleep 
for her that night. 

Another day passed in the same manner. The 
Major did not dine at home, and she was alone all 
the evening. She went to the piano, and began 
to play some of Mendelssohn's " Songs without 
Words." By-and-by she took down a volume of 
Tennyson, and sought "Mariana in the Moated 
Grange." AH the loneliness of her life, all the 
misery of her position, came upon her as she read, 
and she cried like a child. Fitzherbert's cause was 
now as good as won. 

The Earl and the Captain were due at dinner 
next day. About one o'clock Ealph called, but he 
was alone. 

"I've called," said he, "to ask you to excuse 
Ned and myself to-night. The Denes are up in 
London. They are only here for a day or two, and 
they are strangers in town. They've asked me to 
dine with them." 

"Does Captain Fitzherbert accompany you?" 
asked Julia. 

"No, not exactly," answered Ealph, with a 
laugh. 

" We have not seen him these three days," 



CAPTAIN FITZHERBERT. 209 

continued the girl. " There is nothing the matter, 
I hope?" 

" Nothing particular," laughed Ealph. " Only 
he is not quite presentable." 

** I do not understand you." 

" Well, you see he has a pair of black eyes, and 
he doesn't care to be seen." 

" Tell him to come here ; never mind his eyes," 
said Julia, eagerly, 

"At once?" 

"Immediately! I must see him on particular 
business." 

When Ealph gave the message, Fitzherbert 
jumped into the first passing hansom, and drove to 
Montpellier Square. When he entered the drawing- 
room Julia was at the piano playing the " Bridal 
March " from Mendelssohn. At the sound of his 
footstep she sprang up ; and, falling on his neck, 
she kissed him. Then she burst out crying, and 
he consoled her. 

When the Major came in to dinner she took the 
Captain by the hand and led him to her father. 

" Your blessing, papa," she said ; ** we are going 
to be married ! " 

The Major started as if shot. 

"Do you mean it?" he cried. "Sure you're 
joking ! What are you going to live upon ? " 

" On love, papa," answered Julia, smiling. 

"Well, that's poor sustenance; but there! I 
know you'll have your own way — so take her, Fitz. 



210 RACHEL DENE. 

my boy, and take my blessing along with her. 
But mind, there's to be no hurry about the mar- 
riage ! You'll have to wait a bit." 

"As long as you like," returned the Captain; 
** that is, any time in reason." 

So it was settled, and from that day forth Fitz- 
herbert, in spite of debts and duns, was the 
happiest fellow in the world. His whole nature 
seemed to change. lie cared no more for billiards 
or for cards, and was never happy away from 
Montpellier Square. Again and again he said to 
himself that he would turn over a new leaf when 
Julia became his wife. He dreamed of a cottage 
in a wood, of rural felicity, of a bright fireside, of 
loving little children. Many were the delicious 
tete-a-tetes he had with Julia in those happy days 
of their first engagement. 

"My darling," he would say, "you've made a 
new man of me. I wish — I wish I had known you 
earlier ; it might have saved me from a deal of 
misery. I know I'm not worthy of j^ou — no one 
could be worthy of you— but, God willing, I'll do 

my best." 

He meant what he said, and had Fortune been 
kinder to him, he might have efi'ected a complete 
reformation. Nature had intended him for an 
honest man ; Fortune, which so often mars the 
handiwork of Nature, had done her best to blacken 
his character, but could not altogether change his 
disposition. He had shown that he could be 
faithful, even culpably devoted, to an unworthy 



RACHEL ON THE WATCH. 21 1 

friend. Time was to show to what heights of self- 
Bacrifice even this poor fellow could attain, when 
stimulated and strengthened by the one ennobling 
passion of his otherwise wasted life. 



CHAPTER XXIV. 

RACHEL ON THE WATCH. 

The lines of our life drama, which are destined to 
unite in the sequel, have been wandering far away 
from Eachel Dene, who has been standing, as it 
were, apart, a spectator of certain acts in which 
she scarcely took a part. She had not been idle, 
however, but had been working with all her might 
for the deliverance of the man she loved. When 
she found that all her efforts were in vain, that 
beyond securing his reprieve from the capital 
punishment she could do nothing, she felt as if her 
heart was broken. A long and serious illness fol- 
lowed; and when she emerged again from her 
chamber she looked several years older, and full of 
weariness of the world. To deepen her trouble, 
she found that the stern heart of Jacob Dene was 
firmly set against her lover. The proof of his 
guilt had, indeed, been overwhelming, and the old 
Quaker, as we know, had little or no mercy on 
wrong-doers. 

** Thou must forget him," he said. *' He has 



212 RACHEL DENE, 

sinned against God and man, and must take his 
punishment. From this day forth, think no more 
of him or his." 

" But he is innocent," she pleaded. " I hioxo 
he is innocent. I have known it from the first. 
Let me go to him ? Let me write to him ? Let 
me show him that one soul, at least, believes in 
him, and prays for his deliverance ? " 

This, however, was forbidden, and all the poor 
girl could do was to share her grief with the old 
couple at the cottage. From there she heard of 
Jack from time to time, though there came loving 
messages, to which, in spite of her grandfather's 
warning, she returned tender answers. But as 
time went on, and no hope came, Eachel drooped 
more and more under the weight of her heavy 
sorrow. 

Since the night of the murder, Ealph Hollis 
had not returned to Deepdale ; but he had heard 
at intervals from the Denes, and knew all that 
was going on, so that when Eachel appeared in 
London he was not astonished to find her so 
greatly changed. The sight of her face, which 
seemed the more beautiful for its sorrow, revived 
in the young man's heart all the fire of his old 
passion. He was wise enough, however, to hide 
the true nature of his feelings, and to offer her 
only the most respectful sympathy. She found, 
to her surprise, that he was quite prepared to 
become her confidant, to talk to her for hours 
together on the theme nearest to her heart, and 



RACHEL ON THE WATCH. 213 

in her simplicity she trusted him, and was very 
grateful. 

Coming straight from Montpelher Square after 
the interview described in our last chapter, he 
drove to the hotel in South Kensington, where the 
Denes were staying, and found Eachel alone in 
the drawing-room. His heart leapt joyfully as 
she came to him with outstretched hands. 

"I'm so glad thou hast come early," she cried. 
"Grandpapa is away in the City, and I am very 
lonely." 

The young man took her hands and pressed 
them tenderly. They sat down side by side, and 
there was a long silence. Glancing at Eachel's 
face, he saw that her eyes were full of tears. 

"You are fretting yourself to death," he said 
gently. " Try to forget what has passed. Try to 
be comforted." 

"Nay, I do my best," she answered; "but I 
feel now as if I could never be happy again — and 
indeed I cannot till the truth is known, and lie is 
cleared. Oh, Ealph ! it is so good of you to be 
gentle with me in my afBiction. I shall never 
forget that you have proved so true a friend." 

"You know my heart, Eachel," he said, with a 
sigh. "It is the same as ever; but a man must 
accept the fortune of war, and I see now that I 
had never any chance. You always preferred him 
to mo, I Well, I don't blame you for that, though 
it's hard, very hard ! All I ask you is — for my 
sake, for all our sakes — to keep up a good heart." 



214 RACHEL DENE, 

She rose from his side, and paced up aud down 
the room. 

"Can nothing be done?" she cried. "Oh, 
Ealph ! I am sure thou wilt help him if thou 
canst ! " 

"Certainly," was the reply. "But, there ! it is 
quite hopeless. He'll have to ' dree his weird,' as 
they say in Scotland; and after all, you know, 
prison life isn't so dreadful — the suffering is more 
in the imagination than in the reality. Then, 
again, what they call a * lifer ' doesn't mean exactly 
imprisonment for life. If he keeps a good record, 
a man often gets out at the end of fifteen years." 

" Fifteen years .' But when he is innocent " 

"I believe he is," said the young Earl, 
emphatically. 

"God bless thee for saying so!" cried Eachel, 
looking at him with grateful eyes. " All are 
against him save thyself and those who know him 
and love him best." 

Never in all his days had Ealph HoUis felt so 
miserably mean, so full of remorse. At that 
moment, indeed, he would have liked to perform 
an act of heroism, and make a clean breast of 
everything. But, no ! life was too sweet, and the 
world too full of charm. He thought, too, of his 
mother — the one being in the world for whom he 
had any unselfish affection — and said to himself, 
with characteristic self-deception, "For myself I 
should not care so much, but for her sake I must 
lieep silence to the end." 



RACHEL ON THE WATCH. 215 

They dined together that day — Jacob and 
Susannah Dene, Eachel and the young Earl. It 
was a dismal enough affair ; but, thanks to 
Eachel's society and sweet looks, Ealph enjoyed 
himself immensely. Quitting the house at an 
early hour, he went off to the club, where he met 
some choice spirits, and played at cards for heavy 
stakes. Flushed and feverish, he went at last to 
his room to spend a sleepless night. 

''I'm a miserable cad," he said to himself; 
" but, after all, is it my fault ? Had my uncle 
died a few hours earlier I should have been 
spared this life-long misery. God knows I never 
intended to be a murderer — it was all an accident, 
as I told Fitzherbert ; and though an innocent 
man is suffering on my account, I can't face a 
prison, and give myself uxd." 

Then, with the innate selfishness of his nature, 
he thought rapturously of Eachel — her beauty, 
her tenderness, her confidence in him. There 
was hope yet, if he played his cards carefully, that 
she might forget the other, and begin to care for 
him. 

"Fve loved her all my life!" he cried. "If 
that fellow had not come in the way, all would 

have been different. And noio Why should 

I waste time in self-reproaches ? Why should I 
mar my good fortune by making myself miserable ? 
It's the fortune of war ! Life's a lottery ; prizes 
to some, blanks to others ; and the prise I want 
is Eachel Dene." 



2i6 RACHEL DENE. 

Selfish and vacillating himself, he entirely mis- 
calculated the strength of the young girl's nature. 
Once awake to the fact that she loved Jack 
Heywood, Eachel never faltered for a moment in 
her first faith ; and though with her own eyes she 
had seen him brutalized with drink, and though 
she knew the world thought him guilty of a 
hideous crime, she held tenaciously to the belief 
in his innocence. The old Quaker stubbornness 
asserted itself in this gentle being. She thought 
of the poor prisoner all day, and her prayers were 
wafted to him every night. Fifteen years ! She 
would wait fifty rather than turn her simple 
thoughts to any other living man. 

A few days later the young Earl had a long talk 
with Jacob Dene. They met at Ralph's rooms by 
appointment, unknown to Rachel, but the con- 
versation was chiefly of her. The old Quaker 
deplored what he called her infatuation for a man 
who had, by his own act, placed himself beyond 
the pale of human sympathy. 

"Let it be a lesson to //tee," he added. **I 
thought once that young Heywood was the steady 
horse, and Ralph Hollis the unbroken colt; but 
see to what a pass drink and the love of money 
can bring a man. I hope, lad, thy new-found 
fortune has not tm'ned thy head, and that it has 
brought thee better manners and better com- 
pany." 

"I hope so," returned Ralph, with an obedient 
smile. " You see, sir, I was a little spoiled by my 



RACHEL ON THE WATCH. 217 

bringing up. It is bad for a young fellow to be 
waiting for an old one's shoes." 

" Eight ! As for worldly titles, they are all 
vanity; but once thou art a peer, set a good 
example to thy kind." 

"I'll try, sir," answered Ealph. "But Eachel 
— do you think she will ever get over this great 
Borrow?" 

" She is a girl, a child, and must get over it ; 
it is sin, I hold, to have set her heart upon a 
criminal." 

" And, indeed, he was ever far beneath her ! " 

The eyes of the two men met, and each knew 
what was passing in the other's mind. Ealph 
saw his opportunity, and availed himself of it — 
nervously, awkwardly, but with a certain show of 
manly candour. 

** Oh, sir, I need not play the hypocrite ! " he 
cried. " I have loved Eachel all my life, and till 
this man came between us, I thought that she 
cared a little for me in return. Not for the world, 
however, would I seem to her selfish and unfeeling. 
All I wish you to know is that my heart is still 
unchanged." 

Jacob Dene nodded approvingly. He liked the 
young man's modesty and gentleness of demeanour, 
and, above all, he knew that he was a suitable match. 

*'I have thy word," he said, "that thou hast 
changed thy ways. What was this I heard of a 
great prize-fight in France — a disgraceful affair? 
They tell me thou wast present ? " 



b 



3i8 RACHEL DENE, 

"By the merest accident," stammered Ealph. 

" More shame for thee ! Dost thou gamble still 
on the turf ?" 

"No, sir; I have given that up long ago. Re- 
member, I was only a boy." 

"Thou art a boy still," said Jacob. "What's 
thy present life ?" 

" A very dull one. I have cut most of my old 
friends — I confess they were a bad set — and found 
few new acquaintances. I live very quietly, as 
you see." 

" Well, good fortune has not spoiled thee — that 
is in thy favour," returned the old Quaker. "I 
will not deny that I once mistrusted thee; but 
now, things are changed, and perchance — nay, I 
promise nothing — perchance, I say, Eachel and 
thee may come together. But not a word of this 
to Eachel herself. She is of stubborn disposition, 
and if she thought I approved of thee for her 
husband, poor would be thy chance of gaining her 
affection." 

Thus it came to pass that Ealph became, with 
her grandfather's secret approval, the close com- 
panion of the young Quakeress. He had played 
his cards very cleverly, and, posing as a sym- 
pathetic friend, daily gained a firmer place in her 
affection; indeed, he was now almost the only 
person in the world to whom she could open her 
heart unreservedly, and with the certainty of 
finding due sympathy. Under these favourable 
circumstances, all his fears, all his scruples, were 



RACHEL ON THE WATCH. 219 

forgotten. He thought of nothing now hut the 
hope of winning Eachel's love, and to secure this 
he humoured, with diaboHc cunning, that other 
love which had become the mainspring of her 
maiden life. 

So long as the Denes remained in town, he was 
very careful in his social conduct. His only 
intimate companion was Fitzherbert, w^hom he 
instructed to keep as much as possible out of the 
old Quaker's way. He avoided the gambling clubs, 
went to no race-meetings, and was zealous in his 
attendance at the House of Lords, even going 
the length of making a short maiden speech on 
a manufacturing question, which speech occupied 
just two lines in the newspaper next day. Those 
who knew him better looked on and wondered. 

"Beauchamp has sown his wild oats," they 
said, laughing, '* and is going in for respectability. 
Who knows? some day he may become Prime 
Minister!" 

By the time that Eachel left for Deepdale, the 
young Earl had succeeded in fully establishing 
liimself in her esteem. The season was just over ; 
everybody else of any importance was leaving 
London, and Ealph began to think of going some- 
where for a holiday. 

** I'd like to go down to Deepdale," he said to 
his mother ; " but the place is too full of sad 
associations. Fitzurse tells me of some capital 
salmon-fishing in a river close to the mouth of the 
St. Lawrence. I think I shall try Canada." 



220 RACHEL DENE* 

CHAPTEE XXV. 

FITZHEEBERT GETS INTO TROUBLE. 

One winter's day, "when confined to the house by his 
asthma, which was becoming chronic, 0' Gallagher 
said to Fitzherbert, ** * Dum vivimus,' my boy, is 
my motto. Sufficient for the day is the evil thereof. 
As for the future, bad luck to the blackguard, I 
haven't the honour of his acquaintance, so let him 
look out for himself, as I had to do before him. 
It's the present is the botheration. Julia has 
taken charge of the cheque-book, and bowled me 
out and at the bank. Where she gets this nig- 
gardliness from God knows, for I don't ; not from 
her mother or me. I never could keep my ex- 
penses within bounds, because of the insufficiency 
of my income. What can a man do when he's 
born a gentleman ? Sure he must spend whether 
he has it or no. The girl is good enough to see 
that I have my wine, my meat, my tailor, my 
stable-keeper, my butcher, and my baker ; but 
where is the use of those without my horse in the 
stable, my box at the play, a quiet rubber, or a 
monkey or two on the last race? By Jove ! " he 
added; " there she comes." 

As Julia made her appearance, followed by 
Balph HoUis, the 0' Gallagher continued. 

"Ah, Ealph, my boy, here you are. And how's 
that superb creature, your mother ? And the 



I'lTZHERBERT GETS INTO TROUBLE. 321 

young Quakeress, too — how's she ? By my honour, 
she's an angel ; she's better than an angel, for she 
has no wings to By away with ! Ah ! when I see 
a face like thaty my heart always goes out to it, 
and I'm a boy again." 

" Papa will still be talking. Lord Beau champ," 
said Julia. " But you must excuse him, for he is 
still the youngest member of the family." 

" Faith," laughed the Major, " you may say 
that, darling. Sure, as long as I'm a man, I hope 
to be a boy." 

"I've come to say good-bye," said the Earl. 
" I'm going to take a run over to Canada and do 
some salmon-fishing." 

** When do you start ? " asked the Major. 

** To-morrow." 

" To-morrow is it ? Then good-bye and good 
luck to you ! " cried the Major, 

" Thanks ! Good-bye, Miss O'Gallagher ! " 

** Good-bye and hon voyage, Lord Beauchamp. 
I hope you will have a pleasant time," said Julia ; 
then she gave her hand to Ealph. 

"Thanks!" returned his lordship. "Fitz, are 
you coming my way ? " 

"In one moment," replied Fitz. Then he whis- 
pered to the Major, " I say, Major, about that five- 
hundred-pound bill that's due on Wednesday ? " 

The Major made a wry face. 

" Try if you can't get Beauchamp to spring 
something towards it, and come round to-morrow," 
he whispered. 



222 RACHEL DENE, 

" All right. Coming, Ealpli ! " And off went 
the two young fellows together. 

"Papa," said Julia, who had been regarding 
this whispered conference with observant and 
anxious eyes, " I wish you would not be always 
leading Captain Fitzherbert into these monetary 
difficulties." 

" He has told you of them ? " cried O'Gallagher, 
sharply. 

*' He has told me nothing, papa ; but I'm neither 
blind nor deaf." 

" No, by Jove, nor dumb either ! " the Major 
cried. ** Ah ! how can you, while rolling in wealth, 
leave your poor old father to the mercy of those 
rascally bill-discounters ? " 

"It is because I do not wish to leave my father 
to their mercy that I seek to restrain his ex- 
travagance. Ah, papa ! you have already squan- 
dered your own fortune in dissipation, and why 
should you seek to squander mine ? " 

The Major looked indignant. 

"Squander yours!" he cried. "Let me tell 
you, Julia, that what you call dissipation a gentle- 
man calls doing his duty in that state of life in 
which it has pleased Providence to place him. A 
gentleman is a circulating medium, or nothing. 
For Her Majesty herself is neither more nor le«3 
than a circulating medium, and an O'Gallagher 
can't go wrong in following so illustrious an 
example ! " 

" I think, papa," returned Julia, sadly, ** were 



FITZHERBERT GETS INTO TROUBLE. 223 

I to follow my natural instincts I should be even 
more thoughtless than you are, but my love for you 
has taught me to learn prudence. But what is the 
present difficulty, papa ? " 

" Well, it's just that bit of a bill for five hundred 
pounds that I got poor Fitz to accept for me, and 
if I don't take it up, lie must." 

" Oh, papa, how could you ? " cried the girl. 

** Well, my darling, needs must when the Derby 
drives, and I came to grief over the favourite." 

" When is the bill due ? " asked JuHa. 

** The day after to-morrow." 

Without another word she hurried from the 
room. As she went, the old Pagan smiled, and 
murmured, complacently, " She'll do it, the darling, 
she'll do it. I never met a w^oman yet who could 
say no to an O'Gallagher." 

Then he lit a cheroot, and before he had half 
finished smoking it Julia returned with a cheque 
for five hundred pounds. 

" There, papa," she said lightly ; ''now promise 
to be very good, and never do this any more." 

" Never, by the honour of an O'Gallagher," 
returned the Major. "But I think, my darling, 
we ought to get out of this land of fogs, and go to 
the south, the sunny south. What do you say to 
the Riviera ? " 

" Yes, papa, that will do. Anywhere but Monto 
Carlo." 

"Certainly not Monte Carlo, my Icvey; that 
would be too much for me," said the Major. " It 



224 RACHEL DENE. 

would recall my lost youth, and that angel, your 
mother. It was there we spent our honeymoon; 
and, faith ! that was not all we spent there." 

" Make your own arrangement for the future, 
papa ; but for to-night let me make mine. We will 
dine tete-a-tete, and dine early." 

" By all means. By the way, Julia, tell James 
to put a bottle of Chateau Margaux down to the 
fire." 

" Very well, papa, and — oh, Fitz has a box 
for the theatre, and if you will promise not to 
play more than one rubber, you may go to the 
club." 

It was impossible to be long angry with the 
Major, and Julia beamed upon him and kissed 
him that evening as she and Fitzherbert deposited 
him at the club, and they started on their way to 
the Frivolity Theatre. It was a bad night's work, 
however, for her and for her lover, too, when she 
left the hardened old gambler at the club with 
the five hundred pounds in his pocket. By the 
time he had taken a dozen whiskies he went 
for baccarat, with the result that he lost Julia's 
five hundred pounds, and having disposed of all 
the loose coins he had about him, he was com- 
pelled to borrow half a crown from the porter 
for a cab home. The morning brought a head- 
ache, repentance, and remorse. Meanwhile that 
bill would be due the next day. 

Previous to his departure for America, Pialph 
had given his friend a hundred pounds, which 



FITZHERBERT GETS INTO TROUBLE. 225 

Fitzherbert bad tbat morning banded over to tbe 
Major. 

*' One bundred, bowever, is not five hundred," 
said the Major. "I'm very seedy to-day, Fitz, 
my boy," be continued. " Never mix your drinks. 
It's not tbe quantity, but tbe mixture, tbat does it. 
Now, suppose you run down to Lazarus, and give 
bim a pony to stave bim off for a week till my 
dividends are due." 

Fitzberbert, wbo knew as much about dividends 
as be did of discounts, called at Sackville Street, 
and put off Lazarus for a week. 

In tbe mean time, Julia made preparations for 
tbe journey, greatly to Fitzberbert's discomfiture, 
since it would be quite impossible for bim to ac- 
company ber. Tbe Major got out as frequently 
as bis cougb and tbe east wind would permit bim, 
but, as tbe week came to an end, bis cougb grew 
worse, and be was confined to tbe bouse. Tben 
be wrote a note to Fitzberbert, begging bim to see 
Lazarus again, and to get time. Tbe Captain saw 
tbe Jew, wbo refused point blank. Wben Fitz- 
berbert called to consult tbe Major on tbe subject, 
be found bim in bed. 

** It's about tbat infernal bill, I suppose," said 
tbe Major. " Well, I presume it's all rigbt ? " 

"No; it's all wrong," answered tbe poor Captain, 
gloomily. 

"You don't say tbat?" 

** But I do, tbougb. Lazarus is furious — vows 
he'll make us both bankrupt. Tben gome one baa 

Q 



226 RACHEL DENE. 

told him you're going abroad next week, and he 
swears he'll issue a judge's warrant, and lay you 
by the heels and throw you into prison. I'm afraid 
he'll come here and make a fuss, and frighten 
Julia." 

" He mustn't do that, Fitz ! " cried the Major, 
in alarm. " My daughter knows nothing of all 
this ? " 

" Not from me," returned Fitzherbert. ** And 
now what's to be done ? For myself I don't care, 
but I'm thinking of you and of /ler." 

" I know you are, my boy. Well, then, just 
run back and tell him to hold hard for twenty-four 
hours, when I pledge you my honour I'll find either 
money or paper. Look me up at twelve to-morrow; 
and remember, Fitz, my boy, not a word of this to 
JuHa ! " 

" All right ! " 

And off went the Captain once more to face the 
obdurate bill-discounter. 

When Fitzherbert returned the next day, the 
Major was still confined to his bed, and his cough 
was worse than ever. 

**Hand over my writing-case, my boy," he 
gasped. " In here's a bill at three months for 
seven hundred pounds. It's accepted by Lord 
Dunsinane. You needn't look surprised ; his lord- 
ship has owed it me for months past. I put the 
screw on him last night, and instead of sending 
a cheque he sent this. I can't get out with this 
infernal north-easter, so I must just trouble you 



FITZHERBERT GETS INTO TROUBLE. 227 

to see Lazarus once more. There's to be five 
hundred to take up the present bill ; a hundred for 
interest, and the other hundred you can keep for 
yourself! " 

" I can do without it," said Fitzherbert. 

"No, dear boy. Well, if you put it that way, 
it's all in the family, so suppose we split it between 
us ; you keep one half and I'll take the other ! " 

When, an hour later, Fitzherbert explained his 
business to Lazarus, the astute Israelite hummed 
and hawed. 

" I suppose it'll be all right ? " he muttered, 
"The old Marquis is shaky, and when he dies, 
young Dunsinaue will inherit. However, three 
names are better than two, and as a mere matter 
of form, you'd better back the bill." 

Without hesitation, Fitzherbert endorsed the 
new bill, retained the old one, and came out trium- 
phant with a cheque for a hundred pounds, which ho 
cashed on his way to Montpellier Square. When 
the old Major heard the crackle of five new crisp 
Bank of England notes for ten pounds each, the 
effect was magical. 

"Thank God that's paid!" said he, as he 
jumped out of bed. " Fitz, I feel ever so much 
better. Go to Julia ; say I'll come down to dinner. 
Stay and dine with us, and we'll have a pleasant 
evening ! " 

That was the last pleasant evening poor Fitz- 
herbert had for a long time, for two days later 
the lady of his lifelong devotion and the great 



228 ' RACHEL DENE» 

O'Gallaglier left town for San Eemo, and the dis' 
consolate Captain was left alone in London. 

Quite alone, for Ealph had already sailed. 
Before the separation the two friends had several 
long talks together, and touching once more on the 
subject of the Deepdale murder, Fitzherbert assured 
the real culprit of his intention to hold his tongue. 
He would have liked to borrow a few hundreds 
more, but he knew that Ealph himself had been 
spending a great deal lately, and to press him just 
then looked like levying blackmail. 

" Never mind," he thought ; "if I get into a 
very bad fix I can write to him, and he'll never 
leave me out in the cold." 

So the two parted, and the Captain remained 
in the great city. A few weeks passed before 
he began clearly to realize his situation. On 
investigating his affairs he found they were worse 
than even he himself had suspected. He was in 
debt here, there, and everywhere, and saw no way 
out of it. He could not dig, and to beg he was 
ashamed. He was not ashamed, though, of run- 
ning into debt with tradesfolk. 

" A younger son is, as he observed, born to that 
line of business; in fact, it is the only line of 
business he is born to. He has to learn billiards, 
that is, if he wishes to earn a living by that 
pleasant pastime ; while, as to cards, well, card- 
playing is an exact science, unless you can carry 
the ace up your sleeve, and that a fellow is debarred 
from in reference to vulgar prejudice. If I'd only 



FITZHERDERT GETS INTO TROUBLE. 229 

the goodwill of a fashionable crossing now, Hke 
the fellow in the story, I might turn an honest 
penny ! " 

Meanwhile the Major and his daughter had 
reached the Kiviera, which was not a pleasant 
place that winter. Wherever the two went the 
winter still followed and preceded them. Hail, 
rain, sleet, snow, ice before or behind them in 
every direction. The Major's cough got worse and 
worse, and he began to think he'd better have 
stayed at home. As he sat one day muffled up to 
the chin and shivering over the stove, or the 
miserable handful of damp wood which did duty 
for fire at the Hotel Splendide at Cannes, he 
growled, *' Curse the weather ! Sure it's the marrow 
in my bones that's congealed into ice ; and, as for 
this infernal cough, it's my heart it's bringing up ! " 

" I'm so sorry, papa," said Julia ; *' but you 
would come, you know." 

''That's right — that's right; reproach your old 
father who's sacrificed his life for you ! Confound 
this cough ! Ring the bell, and call for the stoker ; 
see if that old cat can make this conglomeration 
of chips into a fire, and let me have a hot whiskey, 
blazing hot." 

When he had swallowed the beverage as hot as 
he could put it down without scalding, he said, 
"Ah, darling, you're the best of daughters, and 
I'm an ungrateful old vagabond ! " 

" No, no, papa ; I won't hear you talk like 
that," said Julia. 



230 RACHEL DENE. 

**But I must and I will ! " returned the Major. 
"I ruined your mother, I've ruined myself, and I 
was near ruining you; but thank God you had 
the common sense to save yourself from me, and 
now I can die easy, knowing that you are provided 
for." 

" Don't talk about dying, papa," cried Julia. 

"And why shouldn't I?" returned the Major, 
sadly. '' Death is the one debt that must be paid ; 
we can't escape it, try as we will. You may renew 
a bill, or stave off a tradesman, but when the Dun 
of Death lays his hand upon our heads there is no 
escape. It reminds me, Julia darling, that my 
little bill is nearly due, and that at any hour of 
the day or night I may expect to see that cold, 
relentless face. I shouldn't mind the thought of 
death, Julia, but that I can't bear to know that I 
must leave you alone. Ah, it's a bad lot we are 
— the O'Gallaghers ; a set of godless heathens 
wandering about the face of the earth, instead 
of being settled down as good Christians among 
our own kith and kin, and doing good to 
the poor devils born on our land. Help me 
into bed, darling. Perhaps I shall be better to- 
morrow." 

On the morrow, however, he was worse, and the 
following day he was worse still. Poor Julia loved 
him — for he had been to her father and mother — 
in fact, everything in the world. In his way he 
loved ]icr ; he had petted and spoiled her, and he 
would have ruined her with equal facility. Her 



FITZHERBERT GETS INTO TROUBLE. 231 

origin and her dubious position and past always 
kept her in doubtful society, and even then she 
was alone. Women avoided her, and men regarded 
her as an anomalous compound of the Eastern 
odalisque and the European money spinner ; she 
who, despite the hot blood of her Indian mother, 
was chaste as snow. 

It was the quiet, unostentatious, yet respectful 
admiration of Fitzherbert which had made the 
heart of this poor girl go out to him. She had 
learned to love him just as she loved the old 
gambler and roue who lay dying before her. 

Yes, there could be no doubt about one thing. 
The Major was near the end of his journey, but 
he managed to struggle to San Eemo. 

" Send for Fitz, darling," he said one afternoon; 
" I'd like to see you man and wife. He's not a 
brilliant match for you, but he loves the very 
ground you walk on. Send for him at once — send 
for him, for the love of God, Julia ; I must see 
him before I die ! " 

Suddenly he was seized with a wild paroxysm of 
coughing. When he withdrew the handkerchief 
from his mouth it was drenched with blood. 

"It's all over, Julia," he gasped, "and I've no 
time to make my peace with Heaven. Kiss me, 
darling. I'm a bad lot, but I've always loved you. 
Sure, I've had a fine time of it, and if I could but 
see you settled I should die happy ; but what must 
be must be. Kiss your wicked old father, and say 
you forgive him." 



232 RACHEL DENE. 

As Julia knelt sobbing by the bedside, lie con- 
tinued. 

" And there's a bill — a bill for seven hundred 
pounds ; it's due to-day, or to-morrow, or next 
week. Bad luck to the bills ! I always get into 
a muddle about them. But mind, my life's in- 
sured. Give Fitz seven hundred pounds directly 
— directly, mind, for the bill — the bill " 

"Yes, papa," sobbed Julia ; " I understand." 

" And settle the rest on the eldest boy, if you 
have one ; and call him Gerald, after his wicked 
old grandfather. It's getting dark, Julia, or it is 
the end that's coming. Hold on to me, dear; 
bold on to me," he whispered, faintly ; and then 
he fell asleep, holding her hand in his. 

She sat there till the hand grew cold, the breath- 
ing short ; then she knew that the stupor was that 
of death. 

The next morning Captain Fitzherbert went 
down to his club, and found a foreign telegram to 
this effect : — 

" My poor father died last night. Come at 
once. Julia. Hotel d'ltalie, San Eemo." 

Poor Fitzherbert was overwhelmed at this in- 
telligence. Making the best of his way to the 
smoking-room, he dropped into a chair, and en- 
deavoured to collect his thoughts. His first impulse 
was to start for San Eemo at once : a little 



FITZHERBERT GETS INTO TROUBLE. 233 

reflection showed him this would be impossible. 
Without money, how was he to get a suit of 
mourning, and how was he to get to San Kemo ? 
Well, he still had his watch and chain and a 
diamond ring, and a shirt stud worth a hundred 
guineas. He would dispose of these. 

Just as he had arrived at this conclusion, two 
of his boon companions, Algernon Fitzurse and 
Major Deuceace, lounged in. 

** What's up, Fitz ? " asked Algy. 

" The Major— poor old Major O'Gallagher— has 
just died." 

" You don't say so ! " 

"Yes; he died at San Remo last night." 

" Poor old chap ! " muttered Algy ; "ho was 
a good cribbage-player." 

" Well, he's pegged his last hole, anyhow," inter- 
posed the Major. "Hawkins, brandy and soda. 
Have a cigar, Algy?" 

At this moment Lord Dunsinanc burst into the 
room, followed by Lazarus, the bill-discounter. 
Both were pale with excitement. 

" Oh, there you are ! " cried Lazarus, accosting 
Fitzherbert. 

" Of course, I am here," returned Fitzherbert, 
coldly. " But may I ask what brings yon here ? " 

" What brings me here ? — my money ! " shrieked 
Lazarus. " I want my money, and, what's more, 
I'll have it — do you hear, Mr. Fitzherbert ?— I'll 
have it, if not out of your pocket, out of your 
life ! " 



234 RACHEL DENE, 

Fitzberbert sprang to his feet. 

"This is neither the time nor the place for a 

bill-discounting blackguard " he began, -u'hen 

the Jew interrupted him. 

" A bill-discounter is better than a thief! " 

*' Not much," retorted Fitzherbert ; " it's a dis- 
tinction without a difference. Anyhow, if you have 
any claim against me, send it in, and we will 
discuss it at the proper time and in the proper 
place." 

"This is the proper time and place," said the 
Jew. 

" No, it is not. This club is for gentlemen, not 
for people of your stamp. Davison, show this 
person the door ! " 

"Davison, do nothing of the kind!" cried 
Lord Dunsinane. "Mr. Lazarus is here as my 
guest." 

"Very good, my lord, very good," cried Fitz- 
herbert. "I know whom to make responsible for 
this outrage." 

By this time an eager and excited crowd had 
gathered around. Dunsinane drew himself up 
indignantly. 

"A gentleman does not fight with a forger and 
a thief! " he said. 

As the last word left his lips, Fitzherbert knocked 
him down. 

" Police, police ! " shrieked Lazarus. 

In answer to the cry, two detectives in plain 
clothes made their appearance. 



FITZHERBERT GETS INTO TROUBLE. 235 

'* There's your man," continued Lazarus, point- 
ing to Fitzherbert ; " take him away, and lock him 
up." 

" Hands off ! " cried Fitzherbert, fiercely. '' I'll 
knock the head off any man who dares to touch 
me!" 

An ominous growl arose of " You shan't take 
him ! " 

" Come, gentlemen, it's a serious thing to in- 
terrupt an officer in the discharge of his duty ! " 
said one of the men. 

"Duty be hanged!" cried Major Deuceace. 
" You've no right to come here on your dirty 
work. This club is as sacred as the House of 
Commons." 

"Don't know anything about that, sir," was 
the reply; "we were brought here by Lord 
Dunsinane." 

" Cowardly hound ! " said Algy ; " that's because 
of the thrashing Fitz once gave him." 

" Nothing of the kind," retorted Dunsinane, now 
livid with rage ; " it is because he has forged my 
name ! " 

" And he has robbed me of seven hundred 
pounds! " continued Lazarus. "He brought me 
a bill for seven hundred pounds, which he pre- 
tended was O'Gallagher's. Here it is with his own 
endorsement, and it bears the forged signature of 
Lord Dunsinane ! " 

A murmur went round the room, for the thing 
looked very serious. Even Fitzurse and Deuceace, 



236 RACHEL DENE. 

who were hand in glove with Fitzherbcrt, looked 
anxiously at one another. 

"A forgery, did you say ? " cried Fitzurse. 

" Yes, a forgery ! " screamed the Jew. " Here's 
his lordship to say so ! " 

" Say so ? To swear it ! " cried Lord Dunsinane. 
*' I'll do so in any court in Christendom ! " 

Fitzherbert was stunned ; hut when his senses 
cleared, he understood everything. The Major, 
always reckless and unscrupulous, had got him 
into this dreadful trouble, hoping, no doubt, before 
the bill came mature, to take it up or square it in 
some way. Death had intervened, and Fitz- 
herbert had to pay the penalty. Even in the 
moment of his dire extremity, he had only one 
thought — to shield the woman he loved. The 
O'Gallagher had paid his last account, and he was 
her father. 

By this time the sleek and swarthy and re- 
spectable members of the club had strolled away, 
leaving Fitzherbert to my lord, to Lazarus, and 
the detectives. 

Fitzurse and Deuceace were both notorious 
black sheep ; their hands were against every man, 
and every man's hand was against them ; but the 
Captain was their comrade, and they elected to 
stand by him. 

" Algy," growled Deuceace, in a fierce whisper, 
** this is a plant between the Jew and Dunsinane. 
I don't beheve Fitz is in it; let's see him 
through." 



FITZHERBERT GETS INTO TROUBLE. 237 

" If we can only do it ! " muttered Fitzurse. 

"Well, I can spring half; will you spring the 
otberhalf?" 

" Yes ; if I have to pawn my last shirt ! " 

" Then let us try if we can square Lazarus ! " 

"All right! Go ahead ! " 

"Here, Lazarus," said Algy; "come and have 
a drink." 

So while Fitzherbert sat perfectly stupefied, 
under guard of the detectives, and Lord Dunsi- 
nane strode to and fro in a fever of fury, Algy 
and Fitzurse took Lazarus away, and talked to him 
quietly. They then agreed to raise the seven 
hundred pounds and costs, and the Jew seemed 
disposed to meet their views. After the matter 
had been argued for some time, he said, " Well, 
gentlemen, I must consult my principal ; if he is 
willing, I am, but I must tell you it is quite in his 
lordship's hands. Half a minute, and I'll tell you 
what he says." With that he approached Lord 
Dunsinane, and repeated the proposal. 

"Never! never!" growled the peer; "would 
you have me compound a felony ? No, not 
for the Bank of England ! — a thousand times 
no ! " 

"It's no use, gentlemen," said Lazarus, return- 
ing to Algy and Fitzurse ; " we can't compound a 
felony; it's an indictable offence." 

" Take him av/ay, do you hear ? — take him 
away ! " growled my lord. 

Fitzurse and Algy went up to Fitzhcrbci*t. 



238 RACHEL DENE, 

"We are coming with you, old man. Don't 
believe a bit of it," said Fitzurse. 

" Not a word ! " chimed in Deuceace. " Davison, 
call a four-wheeler ! " 

*'I'm ready!" said the Captain, pulling him- 
self together. " I'll go quietly— only hands off, 
that's all ! " 

"Eight you are, sir!" returned the detective, 
while one opened the door, and both followed the 
Captain down the stairs. 

"Lazarus," said Algy, "stay a moment while 
you hear me speak to this fellow." 

With that, he went up to Dunsinane. 

"My lord," he said, "you're a liar and a cad! 
In your heart of hearts you know that Fitzherbert 
didn't do this; you know it was old O'Gallagher; 
and you are putting this upon my friend because he 
once gave you a thrashing. But if Fitz comes to 
grief over this business, I'll thrash you within an 
inch of your life, as sure as my name's Algernon 
Fitzurse ! " 

" And when Algy has done with 3^ou, you'll have 
to settle with me ! *' said Deuceace ; and the two 
men left the room together. 

"I think, my lord," said Lazarus, "you'd better 
have accepted their offer. What I do, I do in the 
way of business, but you do it for pleasure. Every 
man to his taste, but I'd rather not be in your 
shoes." 

" Pshaw I The law will protect me ! " cried the 
peer. 



FITZIIERBERT GETS INTO TROUBLE. 239 

" Yes, as far as forty shillings goes, but that's 
not much to pay for a luxury. But there ! we had 
better be off to Bow Street." 

So to Bow Street they went, where the charge 
was duly entered. 

Upon being brought before the magistrate the 
next day, Fitzherbert was committed to take his 
trial on a charge of forgery and obtaining money 
under false pretences. He was removed at once to 
the Old Bailey. 

Fitzurse and Deuceace stood manfully by him to 
the last, procured the best legal advice, and paid 
for it. Yet, despite all that could be said or done 
on his behalf, the evidence was so conclusive, and 
he himself bore such a shady character, that he 
was convicted. 

He was found guilty, and sentenced to fifteen 
years' penal servitude. 

He might have saved himself by accusing the 
O'Gallagher, but he refused point blank to give any 
explanation of how the dead man's name came 
upon the bill. 

When sentence was passed his head swam ; it 
seemed as if the roof of the court was tumbling 
down upon his head. When the warders carried 
him out of the dock he had a semi-consciousness 
of two pair of hands grasping him, of two choking 
voices, those of Deuceace and Fitzurse, saying, 
*' It's a cowardly shame ! God bless you, old man ! 
We won't forget you ! " 



240 RACHEL DENE, 

CHAPTEE XXVI. 

THE TWO PRISONERS. 

FiTZHERBERT had been set to pick oakum. He 
might as well have been set to construe the Pro- 
metheus Vinctus. He was not allowed to write 
till he had accomplished his allotted task. He 
never could accomplish it — he never did. 

His poor soft, delicate fingers were torn to 
pieces. The experienced gaol-birds around could 
do in three hours what it took him three days to 
attempt. He struck work in despair. He was 
pulled up for insubordination, and got five days 
on the crank and a remission of forty days. 

When he had gone through this ordeal, he de- 
manded an interview with the Governor, from 
whom he requested permission to write again to 
Earl Beauchamp and Julia O'Gallagher. The 
great man inquired if they were relatives, and on 
being informed that they were merely friends, he 
refused permission point blank. It was in vain 
that poor Fitzherbert pleaded ; remonstrance and 
reproach were alike wasted. Had he possessed 
money, means of communication with the outer 
world would have been easy enough ; but he had 
no money, nor had he any means of obtaining it. 
The knowledge of his innocence did not make his 
punishment the lighter to bear ; on the contrary, 
it fell all the heavier. 



THE TWO PRISONERS. 241 

At length, in the efflux of time, came the period 
when the other prisoners were to be removed to 
Portland. While they were being transferred from 
the prison van to the railway carriage at Waterloo, 
the crowd stared at them as if they were packs of 
wild beasts. Up to this moment Fitzherbert had 
retained some hope of seeing or hearing from 
Julia, for the sake of whose good name he had 
suffered himself to be branded as a felon. 

His fellow-prisoners for the most part beguiled 
the journey with song and jest, while he sat apart 
in silence, till at length the prison peninsula rose 
before him. Immediately on his arrival he had to 
undergo the degrading routine of prison discipline. 
He was stripped from head to foot, examined as 
though he were some animal whose points were 
to be approved before being put to action. Un- 
fortunately, he commenced by kicking against this 
revolting business. A quarrel ensued, which ended 
in his being dragged before the Governor of Port- 
land on the very first day of his arrival. Poor 
fellow, he had not brought a clean slate from 
Brixton ; so the interview was short, and the 
result, " Ten days on the crank ; bread and water ; 
four marks. Take him away ! " 

This was not a good beginning. At the end of 
his punishment Fitzherbert thought he would try 
another trick, and became obedient. Surely Julia 
and Ealph would hear of his unhappy condition 
through the papers ; failing the papers, they might 
come in contact with Fitzurse or Deuceace, in 



242 RACHEL DENE. 

which case help would surely arrive sooner or 
later to enable him to effect his escape. 

When he had done his ten days, he was sent to 
work in the West Quarry at stone-dressing. He 
was enfeebled by his bread and water diet, and he 
couldn't do much work. 

"Look alive, No. 79," said the warder, peremp- 
torily. 

" I can't do much to-day, sir," replied the 
convict; "I've been on bread and water for the 
past ten days. Only let me get a little stronger, 
and I'll do my best, I'll promise you." 

" All right, my lad," replied the warder, good- 
naturedly ; then he added, in a whisper, " Keep 
your weather eye open, and in a day or two you'll 
be able to slip into it like one o'clock. You can 
bring yourself to anchor. Sit down a bit." 

Fitzherbert availed himself of this permission, 
and looked round to take stock of his fellow work- 
men. One gang was engaged in removing stone 
in huge masses ; another, in levelling a mound of 
earth ; a third, in building it up again ; a fourth, 
in dressing the famous Portland stone in lumps 
about the size of a cocoa-nut ; a fifth, in loading 
carts with these lumps ; a sixth, like beasts of 
burthen, were hauling cartloads of stone up the 
mountain side. 

The j)risoners appeared to be of every station, 
and almost of every nationality. Cheek by jowl 
with criminals, such as burglars, coiners, pick- 
pockets, and area-sneaks, were dynamitards and 



THE TWO PRISONERS. 243 

Fenians, mixed up -with an occasional gentleman, 
a fraudulent banker, a forger, a barrister, or even 
a parson. 

Misery makes strange bedfellows. Though some 
of these men seemed conscious of their degrada- 
tion, the bulk of them laughed and talked, whistled 
and sang, despite the rule that such amusements 
are strictly prohibited. The warders, who were all 
fully armed, kept a sharp look-out on their flocks, 
prepared to shoot any one of them down upon the 
shghtest provocation; but beyond an occasional 
" Hold your tongues ! " " Silence ! " or " I'll report 
you ! " they made no effort to control. 

One tall, slender-looking fellow, with fair hair, 
aquiline nose, and clean-cut features, attracted 
Fitzherbert's attention by the way in which he 
toj^ed with his pickaxe ; indeed, he handled it as 
gingerly as if it had been a croquet-mallet. For 
fully five minutes he leant upon it in a position of 
languid elegance ; then, transferring it to his left 
hand, with his right he twisted the ends of an 
imaginary moustache. This occupied another four 
minutes or more ; then he laboriously lifted the 
pick, examined both points, dropped it to earth, 
and twisted the airy moustache again. At length 
he appeared to be roused to activity by the sound 
of approaching footsteps, inasmuch as he spat 
upon his hands, uplifted the pick, and worked with 
a will as the warder came in view. The moment, 
however, that he passed out of sight, the gentleman 
with the aquiline nose returned to his ruminations^ 



244 RACHEL DENE. 

and his companions to the process of ticMing the 
earth with their pickaxes. 

" Jem's thinking," said one of the convicts, 
lifting his left thumb over his shoulder towards 
the man with the aquiline nose. 

** No, he isn't," responded another, in an 
educated hut cynical voice. " He'd scorn the 
action ; he thinks he's thinking, which is quite a 
different thing." 

"I'll bet two to one," continued the first convict, 
" he's guessing what's on for lunch at the Carlton 
this minute." 

"Done with you ! " laughingly drawled the man 
with the aquiline nose. " I was actually thinking 
how I could get a quid of tobacco, so hand it over ! " 

"I will, as soon as I get it," laughed the 
convict ; " but there's not been a bit of stuff in 
the place this while past. Ginger has promised to 
get in some to-morrow." 

"I wish to-morrow'd hurry up, then, for I'm 
dying for a quid ; it's the only thing worth living 
for in this infernal place ! " 

" Try the Johnny Eaw there," said convict 
number one ; " perhaps he's got a bit of stuff 
about him." 

Lounging lazily up to Fitzherbert, the man 

with the aquiline nose said, "I say, you fellow 

Fitz, by Jove ! " he cried, dropping his voice. 

" Pelham ! " exclaimed Fitzherbert. 

" Hush ! Stow that ; I'm only Jim Swindon 
here," whispered the other. 



THE TWO PRISONERS, 245 

"I thought you were dead," continued Fitz- 
herbert. 

" No such luck, old man," was the reply. " I 
wish I were." 

"Your brother told me you were drowned." 

" The man that is born to be hanged '11 never 
be dxowned ! " chimed in the cynic. 

This brilHant sally was greeted with a roar of 
laughter, which, however, subsided into silence as 
the warders were seen returning. Up went the 
pickaxes, and at it went the elegant gentleman 
with the rest. 

Fitzherbert by this time had recognized in the 
loquacious convicts two or three other old chums. 
Besides the wretched Pelham (born a lord and 
brother of a duke), there was the son of an Irish 
judge, a nobleman who was said to have been 
killed in the American war, a barrister, and the 
vicar of an English parish. 

"Well," thought Fitzherbert, "I am not alone 
unfortunate. Poor Pelham! " 

This unexpected advent of old acquaintances did 
something to make the hateful place less endurable. 
The weather was genial and bracing, and in a few 
days he began to get better. Fortunately he was 
dropped into Pelham's gang, nicknamed "the 
Devil's Own " by the other convicts. 

Some of the Devil's Own kept up by occult 
means communication with the outer world. They 
could command money ; money meant smuggling 
letters in and out and obtaining tobacco, without 



246 RACHEL DENE. 

■v\'bich some of those lost wretches would have 
gone mad. In this respect Fitzherbert found 
himself as bad as any of them. He would en- 
counter any danger for a few puffs of a good cigar. 

Pelham told him he had got into trouble through 
mistaking another man's signature for his own, 
and had been convicted and sentenced by the name 
of Swindon, under which he had concealed his 
shame. His poor mother bewailed him as dead. 

"Better so," said he, to Fitzherbert, "than that 
she should dream of this ! " 

One of the most trusty agents of the Devil's 
Own for communicating with the outer world was 
" Ginger." This worthy, whom our readers will 
remember, appeared privileged to come and go 
exactly when he pleased, and many a coin ho 
brought in, and many a letter he took out. 

While Fitzherbert was endeavouring to accom- 
modate himself to circumstances as best he could, 
Jack Heywood had become rebellious, desperate, 
and even ferocious. He had refused point blank 
to be stripped and searched, had thrashed one 
brutal warder within an inch of his life, and dis- 
abled another, for which offences he had various 
periods of punishment in the cells set apart for 
the purpose — bread and water, plank beds, and 
sometimes no bed at all. It was of no avail — they 
might break this man, but they could never bend 
him. He was still as determined to effect his 
escape as ever. Every one of these offences 
against discipline entailed special punishment for 



THE TWO PRISONERS. 247 

" Sulky Jack." His cruelest punishment, though, 
was that he was refused permission to write home 
or to receive a letter from home. At length Ginger 
smuggled in writing materials — paper, envelopes, 
and pen and ink — into Jack's cell — a perilous 
proceeding for hoth, if found out. 

" Here ye are, Yorkshire," said Ginger ; " I'll 
get it posted somehow, if I get fourteen days' bread 
and water for it ! " 

But Jack was a marked man, and no warder 
would risk his place without the certainty of a 
heavy reward. Thus in vain Ginger represented 
that there was money behind the job. 

** 'Tain't behind it. Ginger," was the reply, 
" that I want it ; it's before, laddie. If Sulky Jack 
can spring a flimsy, I'll chance it ! " 

When Ginger reported progress that night, Jack 
had recourse to that ten-pound note which he had 
managed still to retain. 

"Ginger," said he, ''j^ou might get this fellow 
to give you five back ! " 

That gentleman took the ten-pound note and 
stuck to it, refusing to return any change. He 
forwarded that letter, though, and in a few days' 
time Jack got an answer, dated from the town of 
Portland itself. 

The letter was full of sweet and sacred words, 
recitations of belief of his innocence. Jasper and 
Joan Heywood were outside the prison walls; 
money was plentiful, escape was possible ; now it 
was a mere question of time. 



248 RACHEL DENE, 

Despite everything, he now kept a good heart. 
He was sure of money to bribe his gaolers — above 
all, he was sure of the two faithful hearts who from 
without kept watch and ward by day and night 
upon his prison gates. 

One day, as the Devil's Own were marching to 
the West Quarry, they came full butt upon a tall, 
stalwart fellow in charge of two warders. Apart 
from the man's appearance, which was striking 
enough, he was attii'ed in a costume which fixed, 
and, indeed, riveted attention, for he was clad in 
a parti-coloured dress, after the fashion of a 
mediaeval jester, one-half of it being a bright 
canary colour, the other half black. The man 
wore irons, too, which clanked as he walked briskly 
along. 

In passing each other he and Fitzherbert en- 
countered each other face to face, and eye to eye. 
Each gave an imperceptible start. 

'* Who's that ? " inquired Fitzherbert, of 
Pelham. 

" Sulky Jack, the Decpdale murderer ! " replied 
Pelham, in a whisper. 

" My God ! " exclaimed Fitzherbert. 

Could it be retributive justice which had brought 
him there face to face v>ith this innocent, long- 
suffering man? 



( 249 ) 



CHAPTER XXVII. 

A ROMANTIC EPISODE. 

Eeturning to England shortly after her father's 
death, Julia O'Gallagher scarcely rested by day 
or night in her inquiries for Fitzherbert, from 
whom, to her astonishment, she had received no 
communication whatever. She went first, how- 
ever, on personal business to the family solicitor, 
an old-fashioned and highly respectable person, 
who represented an eminent conveyancing firm, 
which had flourished in Lincoln's Inn Fields for 
nearly a century. This old gentleman, the soul 
of honour, was a hundred years behind the age. 
He saw immediately to the business about the 
insurance on the Major's life, and invested the 
money to the best advantage, but he did not display 
any remarkable alacrity in making the requisite 
inquiries about Fitzherbert. Of course, Julia could 
not explain the motives which influenced her so 
strongly in the matter, nor did she permit herself to 
display the anxiety she felt. She had no one but 
her maid to confide in, and that young lady was 
not a person to inspire confidence. It was Julia's 
misfortune, therefore, to be still alone in the world. 

The discovery of the truth came upon her like 
a thunderclap. 

The man she loved, the man who had filled her 
with such simj)le devotion, was in a. convict 



2 so RACHEL DENE. 

prison ; and further inquiry elicited the truth, 
known only to herself, that he had been condemned 
on account of a crime really committed by her own 
father. Not a sign had he made, not a complaint 
had he uttered, but had accepted his fate like a 
hero, to spare her pain. 

If she had loved him before, she adored him 
now ; on her knees, night after night, she wept 
and prayed for her lover. 

Then she took a firm resolve. 

" With God's help," she said, ** I will save him 
and justify him." 

Dassiter, the lawyer, had been unable to obtain 
any information about Fitzherbert's place of con- 
finement beyond the fact that he had been removed 
to some distant convict prison; but fortunately 
at or about this time Julia encountered a gentle- 
man she had formerly known — Algernon Fitzurse, 
recently translated to the peerage by the death of 
his elder brother. 

He was delighted to see her, and she was glad 
to see him. 

Fitzurse had sown his wild oats, and had become 
impressed with the duties of his new position ; but 
he requested permission to call next day, and when 
he had done so some spontaneous expression of hig 
regard for Fitzherbert caused the girl to open her 
heart to him. He sympathized with her loyalty to 
his friend, and with her lonely situation, so greatly, 
that upon leaving her he went direct to his mother, 
the Dowager Countess, a charming old lady. He 



A ROMANTIC EPISODE. 251 

was the Dowager's only son, and even in his wildest 
days he had been her darling, so had little difficulty 
in persuading her to accompany him in his next 
visit to Miss O'Gallagher. The two ladies took a 
fancy to each other, and Julia found in the Countess 
a valuable ally and friend. 

Meantime Fitzurse, or Lord Delamere as we 
must now call him, took the matter of Fitzherbert 
in hand, and engaged a famous criminal lawyer to 
make the requisite inquiries. After a few weeks 
the lawyer reported that there was every reason to 
believe that Fitzherbert was confined at Portland ; 
so to Portland Delamere and Julia went the next 
day. 

It was the custom, whether in romance or realitj^', 
to depict the Governor of a penal establishment as 
a stereotyped monster in human shape ; but as a 
matter of fact many of these persons are gentle- 
men of the most humane feelings, whom inexora,ble 
necessity has condemned to become professional 
gaolers. In this case, however, public sentiment 
was right. The Governor of Portland was a 
jaundiced, ill-conditioned individual, who was pre- 
judiced in his likes and dislikes. 

For all that, he dearly loved a lord, and more 
than that a handsome lady. 

So having been duly advised over-night of Lord 
Delamere's intended visit, he laid himself out to 
receive his lordship with all honours due to his 
lordship's station. Orders were given for every- 
thing to be brightened up and made clean as a 



252 RACHEL DENE. 

new pin. The '' Devil's Own " occupied the model 
cells, which were to be thrown open for inspection. 
Every cell was holystoned, every tin can or copper 
utensil was brightened up like silver, or like 
burnished gold, and the men, instead of being sent 
out to the quarry, were ordered to stay in their 
cells, an order received with universal dissatis- 
faction, for not one amongst them cared about 
being pruned up for inspection; possibly more 
than one had good reason to desire to escape 
recognition from the outer world. 

Upon their arrival. Lord Delamere and Julia 
were received by the Governor, who escorted them 
in the first instance to the infirmary, where the 
large dreary dormitory and spotless linen excited 
their admiration, while the poor careworn prisoners 
claimed their sympath}'. Julia looked in vain 
from side to side for her lover, whom she feared to 
find dead or dying with shame and grief. From 
the infirmary they were led to the kitchen and the 
bakehouse, where piles and piles of newly-baked 
bread emitted a fresh and wholesome odour ; 
thence they proceeded to the great kitchen, where 
they found spread out on the table samples of the 
prisoners' food for dinner. Here was a magnificent 
leg of mutton, there a fine joint of beef, and there 
a steaming hot copper full of potatoes like huge 
balls of flour. 

This was one side of the picture. If they had 
only seen the other ! 

Delamere and his companion tasted the mutton 



A ROMANTIC EPISODE. 253 

and the bread, and found them both deh- 
cious ; but the girl's heart was too full to admit 
of her paying the requisite attention to each 
detail. 

At last they were conducted to the model cells 
occupied by the Devil's Own ; the doors were 
unlocked by the warders in attendance, and at the 
word of command the men stepped out, faced in a 
line, and saluted the Governor. 

Julia looked into one or two of the cells ; then 
the Governor led the way down the hall, inspecting 
the prisoners as they passed. 

As they got about half-way down, a choking 
voice gasped "Julia!" The word had scarcely 
left his lips when, with a wild cry of joy, she 
leaped into the arms of her lost lover. 

A scene of the wildest amazement followed. 
" God bless my soul ! This is monstrous ! " ex- 
claimed the Governor. " Monstrous ! Scandalous! 
A breach of discipline ! Take the gang to the 
quarry, and remove No. 79 to his cell ! " 

" Silence, there ! " roared a gigantic warder. 
"Fall in! Eight about face! Quick march!" 
As the men rapidly defiled down the central 
avenue, two warders advanced to Fitzherbert on 
the one side and to Julia on the other, and despite 
their prayers and entreaties that they might speak 
to each other, if only for a few minutes, pulled 
them asunder. 

" Oh, my darling ! — my darling ! Thank God, 
I've seen you I " cried Fitzherbert as they dragged 



254 RACHEL DENE. 

bim to Lis cell. ''Don't fear for mo; I'm all 
right now I " 

Fortunately Julia had fainted, and was utterly 
unconscious. It was in vain that Lord Delamere 
appealed to the Governor, who was furious with 
rage. Had his lordship approached him in a 
different manner — had he requested an interview 
for Julia with the prisoner, the chances are that 
the Governor might have been induced to yield 
assent ; but he was under the impression that 
advantage had been taken of him, and he would 
listen to nothing. Indeed, he cut short the inter- 
view by exclaiming, as he left the hall, " Show 
this lady and gentleman out ! " 

Two warders bore Julia to the carriage, which v.'as 
waiting at the prison gates ; but Delamere, not to 
be daunted, went on to the door of his friend's cell. 

*'Fitz!" said he; "Julia's all right! She's 
only fainted ! I'll take care of her." 

" God bless her ! " gasped Fitzherbert. 

''And, Fitz, I've kept my word, and given that 
rascal Dunsinane a thrashing ! " 

Here a hand was laid upon his arm. " I must 
trouble your lordship to follow the lady," said the 
principal warder. 

" One moment, my good fellow ; I want just a 
word with my friend." 

The warder glanced round, and saw that the 
Governor had disappeared. 

"Prisoners are forbidden to talk; it's against 
the regulations." 



A ROMANTIC EPISODE. 255 

" Hang the regulations ! Fitz ! " 

" Here ! " answered Fitzherbcrt from his cell. 

" Keep up your heart, old man ; we know where 
you are, and will soon have you out." 

" God bless you, Algy ! " 

As Delamere walked down the corridor, he 
looked round to see if he was unobserved, and 
took the opportunity to slip a ten-pound note into 
the warder's hand. 

**I shall be staying at the Bed Lion for 
the next week," he whispered; "try to sec me 
there." 

" It's as much as my place is worth ! " 

" I'll make it worth much more. Mind, I shall 
expect to see you." 

"All right, my lord." 

By the time Delamere returned to the carriage, 
JuHa had recovered. She took his hand, and 
grasped it cordially. 

"Now that I know where he is, my mind is 
^asy. I will not rest night or day till he is free." 

The news of the scene of the morning spread 
like wildfire through the prison, and added to the 
growing dissatisfaction amongst the prisoners. Ifc 
is true it was a trifle compared with what had 
gone before, but it was a romantic and sensational 
trifle, and it was in a thousand mouths that night. 
The Governor was universally detested, and no 
wonder. Even to his own officers he was insolent 
and overbearing. Many of the important officials 
were superior men, who, although they were 






256 RACHEL DENE. 

compelled to yield obedience to his orders, did so 
most unwillingly. 

In one word, the prisoners were in a state of 
semi-mutiny, which was only kept down by the 
most vigorous means. The separate cells were 
crowded ; indeed, scores of men were reported and 
brutally punished by the director at the instigation 
of the Governor. 

This same director was a gentleman who went 
in for flogging as a panacea for insubordination. 
Men were frequently strapped up to the triangles, 
and some were maimed for life. One man, it is a 
matter of history, actually died from the infliction. 

How Jack Heywood had escaped this punish- 
ment is to this day a mystery ; but now, after he 
was assured that the means of escape were at 
hand, he became less refractory ; he did whatever 
work was allotted him with assiduity, and without 
grumbling. Consolation had come to his bruised 
heart in various ways. First he had caught in 
the quarry a beautiful little white mouse, and had 
trained it to come and go at his call, and to sleep 
in his bosom. Secondly, he had learnt that 
Eachel had sent him loving messages, and that 
she still remained Eachel Dene ! Thirdly, Joan 
Heywood had written, begging him that every 
morning at seven (for the winter had now set in), 
and every night at the same time, he would say 
the Lord's Prayer, and at the same hour day and 
night she would say the same prayer, with a little 
one thrown in for his deliverance. This simple 



A ROMANTIC EPISODE. 257 

act of piety soothed, softened, and consoled him, 
and gave him courage and strength to look forward 
to the hour of his vindication. 

Christmas was now approaching. There would 
be some merriment going on even amongst the 
stern officials ; and if so, that was the golden 
opportunity to be utilized. 

The warder who carried his letters to and fro 
entered into negotiations with the Heywoods ; the 
chief warder followed suit with Lord Delamere. 
These two worthies put their heads together, 
squared the porter at the portcullis, and agreed, 
in consideration of a large sum of money, to 
release the two prisoners. Finally, it was arranged 
that on Christmas Day a boat should be ready on 
the shore, which would take them to a sailing 
vessel which lay in the offing. Once aboard, they 
would be safe. This last was Delamere's plan. 
The vessel was chartered by him, and he was 
quite willing to act in concert with the other 
prisoner. 

As Christmas came nearer, the excitement and 
anxiety of the prisoners increased. The faithful 
Ginger was the go-between, who kept them both 
posted up as to the progress of affairs. 

Christmas Day dawned ominously, for the sky 
was overcast, and it seemed as if it would turn to 
snow. Providentially this passed away, and the 
sun broke forth bright and glorious. There was 
no work that day, but church in the morning, and 
some attempt at a choral service. With husky 



258 RACHEL DENE. 

throats the assembled congregation sang, "For 
unto us a Child is born, for unto us a Son is given, 
and the punishment shall be upon his shoulders ! '•' 

After church there was an hour's exercise in the 
open at the West Quarry before dinner. The men 
took open order, and wandered to and fro at their 
own sweet wills. Clouds of thick mist floated 
everywhere, now veiling and again disclosing the 
dreary prospect of land and sea. A wind, 
gradually rising, came from ^the north-west. The 
air was bitterly cold, and the prisoners had much 
ado to keep themselves warm. They laughed and 
shouted, whistled and sang, and romped boisterously 
together, while the armed warders looked on phleg- 
matically, their hearts a little softened, perhaps, 
because it was Christmas Day. 

While this merriment was going on, Fitzherbert 
leaped to the summit of the crags, and took a look 
round. In his youth he had been on garrison 
duty at Gibraltar. How the scene recalled his 
old station ! He thought, for the moment, he was 
at Gibraltar again ; and he saw that the chances 
of escape would have been ten to one in favour of 
the fortress in the Mediterranean. 

The prison itself stood upon the summit of a 
lofty hill. The rocky peninsula, wrongly called an 
island, was surrounded in part, to the right and 
the left, by the sea, in the rear by the military 
district of the Verne, beyond which lay a bare and 
thickly misted district of swamp and marshes. To 
the right and left the prison fortress was guarded 



A /ROMANTIC EPISODE. 259 

by the naval harbour forta. Except by strategy or 
treachery, escape was impossible. But in the 
oiling towards the south lay a sailing vessel, with 
bunting flying at the fore. The word had been 
passed, and Fitzherbert knew the word was Lord 
Delamere's, and that once aboard, he would be 
free. 

At this moment the signal was given to fall in. 
With empty stomachs and aching hearts— for even 
the most lost wretch there thought of other Christ- 
mases, of home and friends, of father and mother, 
sisters and brothers, sweetheart, or wife and child 
— they marched slowly back to the prison. On 
their return they stopped in the square for inspec- 
tion before being dismissed for dinner. 

The Governor was about to give them their 
conge, when, as ill luck would have it, he caught 
sight of Ginger, disguised in a clean face, attempt- 
ing to smuggle a letter into the hands of Fitz- 
herbert ; a letter, in fact, containing the formal 
plan of action for the escape. 

"Halt, there! Fall in. No. 79 company!" 
roared the martinet. 

The word of command was obeyed; but before 
the men could form in file, the letter had dis- 
appeared as if by magic. In point of fact, Ginger 
had rolled it up, and swallowed it like a pill. 

" Hand over the letter ! " shouted the Governor. 

" I have no letter, sir ! " replied Fitzherbert. 

'• Then you, sir ! " he roared to Ginger. 

"Me, sir?" said Ginger, innocently. 



M 



26o RACHEL DENE, 

" Yes, you, sir ! " 

" Never had no letter in my life — can't read, 
sir ! " returned Ginger, smiling. 

" Don't humbug me ! Some one has it in his 
possession, for I saw it — I saw it with my own 
eyes ! Hand it over ! " 

A dead, ominous silence was his only answer. 

" Very well ! Deputy-director, march gang 
No. 79 round to the bath-room ; strip, and let 
every man be searched from head to foot ; then 
bring me the letter ! " And so saying, he retired. 

When the men heard the deputy-director give 
the command, " Right about face ! Quick march ! " 
they instantly obeyed ; but when they reached the 
bath-room, and were ordered to strip, they paused. 

** Strip, do you hear ? Strip ! " cried the chief 
warder. 

They looked at each other ; then they looked at 
him with a stony glare ; but no man moved hand 
or foot — no man spoke. There was a dead 
silence. 

Then the deputy held a whispered colloc[uy with 
one of his men, with the result that the latter 
hastily quitted the bath-room. 

The men still remained at " attention," and 
might have been so many statues. 

Four minutes later the Governor returned in 
person. 

" What's this I hear ? Eefuse obedience to my 
orders ! Strip ! — do you hear ? — strip ! Very well 
— very well ! I shall know what to do to-morrow. 



A ROMANTIC EPISODE. 261 

Deputy-director, march these men back to their 
cells." 

Again the word of command was given. Again 
the men obeyed, and were marched back to their 
ward and locked up. 

Their implacable tyrant followed, growled some 
order to one of the warders, and paced up and 
down outside the cells. 

Presently the dinner-bell was heard. Tramp, 
tramp, came the warders, passing by, carrying 
steaming rations of roast beef and plum-pudding 
to the prisoners in the other wards. 

When the last footfall had died away, and the 
delicious odours had permeated every cell of the 
Devil's Own, the Governor said in a hard voice, 
** Nov/, men, will you j)roduce that letter ? " 

Silence was still his only answer. 

" Very well, then ! Officer, serve out to these 
men rations of bread and water for their Christmas 
dinner. Perhaps that may bring them to their 
senses." 

This barbarous order broke the silence, and, as 
the Governor passed down the avenue, a howl 
burst on either side as if it had risen from opposite 
cages of wild beasts. The warders in charge vainly 
tried to obtain silence ; they were overpowered by 
a torrent of execrations. 

At last they locked the cells, and returned to 
their Christmas dinners. Then Ginger appeared 
upon the scene. How it was he was not locked up 
no one could understand, but there was collusion 



262 RACHEL DENE. 

somewhere. He bad obtained — stolen, most likely 
— from the kitchen one or two grills of beef and 
pudding, which he conveyed to Jack and Fitz- 
herbert, and one or two other favourite persons. 
He had also got a quantity of tobacco and methy- 
lated spirit ; one or the other, sometimes both, 
were thrust under the door of every cell. At first 
the men were soothed by the unwonted stimulant, 
and, in nearly every case, they sank into a stupid 
torpor of sleep. 

Night fell soon. When the gas was lighted in 
the corridor, empty and hungry stomachs began 
to assert themselves. By-and-by came strains of 
distant music, and sounds of laughter from the 
Governor's quarters, from the officers' quarters, 
from the warders' quarters. Evidently these gentle- 
men are keeping Christmas. 

Pleasant this for hungry and empty men ! 

It wanted some four hours for the time fixed for 
the escape. Jack Heywood and Fitzherbert were 
in a fever. Still more music— more laughter from 
within and without. The prisoners became angry, 
then they became furious. 

Presently a merry ballad is heard from the 
Governor's quarters. In reply, a ruffian, with a 
stentorian voice, roars out a ribald song, and 
every man from every cell roars forth the chorus. 
The sound is taken up in the next ward, and the 
next, and the next, till it arises to one infernal 
roar, which rings through every ward. 

The man on guard summoned the principal 



A ROMANTIC EPISODE. 263 

night warder, who in his turn summoned his men. 
Cell after cell was opened ; innocent or guilty were 
dragged out and flung, neck and crop, into the 
punishment cells. Instead of allaying the blood- 
fever, this brutality made it worse. Half-drunken 
officers were summoned from the song and dance, 
from the wassail bowl and the yule log. Cells 
were unlocked, refractory men — not without 
desperate hand struggles — were beaten into sense- 
lessness, and flung, head foremost, into punish- 
ment cells, while the torrent of groans, and 
shrieks, and shouts of " Murder ! " made night 
hideous. Amidst this foretaste of Pandemonium, 
the Governor made his appearance in evening 
dress. 

In vain he tried to make himself heard above 
the din. 

At last, during a momentary pause, he roared 
out, " A mutiny ! " 

Then he wheeled round, and telephoned to the 
town for soldiers. 

Meanwhile, the rebels remained rebellious. More 
cells were thrown open, more men were dragged 
out and punished. It was difficult to say which 
was the maddest, the prisoners or the gaolers. 

Suddenly a stentorian voice shouted out from 
the main corridor, " Burn the d — d place down — 
burn it ! We can die but once, any how ! " 

A thousand voices responded in a hoarse chorus, 
** Tear down the gas — burn the prison ! " 

The frantic prisoners were in the act of carrying 



264 RACHEL DENE. 

out this threat, the confusion was worse con- 
founded, the tumult was at its height, when the 
tramp of soldiers were heard in the distance. It 
came nearer and nearer. A cry of " Halt ! " was 
heard ; the tramp ceased. Then, locks, holts, and 
hars were heard to fly asunder, and again the word 
of command was given. 

" Quick march ! This way ! " 

Tramp, tramp again, the soldiers filed in the hall 
at the double ; and side by side with the Captain, 
walked the Governor. 

" Halt ! Attention ! Fix bayonets ! " 

At this instant, and at the same moment, the 
cells of Jack Heywood and Fitzherbert were thrown 
rapidly open. They were in the rear of the sol* 
diers and unnoticed. 

A friendly voice whispered, " Coast clear ! Now's 
your time. Cut away ! " 

No further incentive is needed to speed their 
fleeting feet. They now carry their lives in their 
hands, and are liable to be shot down like dogs. 
As they reach the outer gate, the porter, who has 
been squared, occupies himself in leisurely lower- 
ing the portcullis; but an assistant, called in at 
the last moment, catches sight of the convicts, 
rings the alarm bell, and shrieks out, " Prisoners 
escaping through the portcullis ! " 

The signal is responded to, and a non-com- 
missioned officer and half a dozen soldiers come 
dashing up. The portcullis had just dropped to 
the ground, but although it interposed for the 



A ROMANTIC EPISODE. 265 

moment a barrier between the pursued and the 
pursuers, unfortunately it interposed no barrier 
to the pursuers' rifles. The moon, too, was at its 
full, and lighted up every movement of the fugi- 
tives, who were half-way down the zig-zag path, 
below which the boat was concealed. 

"Present! Fire!" 

The order is instantly obeyed, and Fitzherbert 
fell wounded to the ground. But, strong as 
Hercules, Jack Heywood stooped for a moment, 
lifted his lifeless comrade upon his shoulder, and 
again took to his heels down the precipitous side 
of the cliff. 

By this time the soldiers came rushing down the 
path. They gain the brink of the precipice just as 
Jack has reached the boat, in which four men are 
lying to their oars. Jack threw the body of Fitz 
aboard, leapt in himself, and as he did so a volley 
of musketry came from the precipice. The bullets 
whisked harmlessly over his head. 

The next moment a thick black cloud obscured 
the moon, darkness fell upon the scene, and under 
•its cover they were puUing safely down the Channel 
towards the open sea. 



:266 RACHEL DENE, 

CHAPTER XXVIII. 

IN BRITTANY. 

The prime mover in this desperate attempt to 
interfere with legal justice was Algernon, Lord 
Delamere, and he was aided and abetted by that 
amiable blackleg, Major Deuceace. Algernon, we 
may mention, Avas second cousin to the famous 
Ned Barnaby, of the Guards, whose escapades in 
and out of the battlefield were the talk of Europe ; 
and he, like his relation, carried into modern 
affairs the adventurous spirit of the Middle Ages. 
Apart from his affection for Fitzherbert, he looked 
upon the whole affair as a "lark ; " but when the 
Captain, bleeding and unconscious, was brought 
on board the little cruiser, Delamere, who was 
waiting on the deck, saw that it was no laughing 
matter. 

No sooner were the men on board than the 
vessel stood out to sea. Fitzherbert was carried 
below, and his wounds dressed by Deuceace, who 
was a bit of a surgeon. When the poor fellow 
opened his eyes he saw a dear and familiar face 
bending over him. 

" Julia, is it you ? " he murmured, gratefully. 
"Where am I? What has happened? Ah! I 
remember ! " and he again became unconscious. 

Julia turned to Deuceace, who stood quietly 
looking on. 



IN BRITTANY, 267 

"Will he recover, sir? Are his wounds dan- 
gerous ? " 

" They've peppered him," returned the Major ; 
"but I've stopped the bleeding, and I think there's 
a chance yet. The cowards ! To shoot him in the 
back, like a dog ! " 

Sobbing wildly, the girl knelt by her lover, and 
passionately kissed his hand. 

" You'd better not disturb him," said Deuceace, 
gently. " I think he's sleeping. Poor Fitz ! I 
wish there was a proper sawbones on board, but 
I've done my best." 

"Let me stay with him," pleaded Julia. "I 
will be very quiet — only do not drive me away ! " 

Deuceace could do no more ; so he left her to 
her sorrow, and went on deck, where he found 
Lord Delamere conversing with the other convict. 
Jack Heywood. The vessel was by this time right 
out at sea, and heading westward through cloud 
and rain. 

"What's to be done now?" said Delamere, as 
his friend came up. " A pretty mess we appear to 
have made of it ! By this time the escape will be 
telegraphed to every station, and we shall have her 
Majesty's cruisers running the seas in pursuit." 

" Penal servitude for every one of us, I suppose ! " 
cried the Major, lighting a cheroot, and looking 
Jack from head to foot. " I'm afraid, too, poor 
Fitz is booked ! " 

"I hope not," returned Delamere. Then, lead- 
ing Deuceace aside, he whispered, " That fellow is 



268 RACHEL DENE. 

named Heywood, who was convicted for a murder 
done in Yorkshire. I've told him that his friends 
were in the job with us, and planked down their 
money to help us ; but, upon my life, it's an ugly 
business for all concerned ! " 

Here the captain of the vessel, a squat, thickset 
man of the Dirk Hatteraick type, came up and 
joined them. 

"Bad look-out, this!" he said. " Which way 
are we to steer ? As sure as Davy Jones, the 
cruisers will be after us ! " 

" You knew that before you undertook the job," 
cried Delamere. "We're all in the same boat; 
now, old man, what's to be done ? " 

" We might run along there, and put these 
lubbers out somewhere in Devon. I know every 
creek and anchorage there," said the sailor. 

" No good," returned his lordship. " The coast- 
guards will be watching everywhere. No, turn 
about, and steer for the coast of Brittany. The 
wind's veering round, and we can run." 

The order was obeyed, sullenly enough, for 
though the men were to receive for the affair 
enough money to make them independent of the 
sea for life, they had only just begun to realize the 
danger of the whole proceeding. Delamere and 
Deuceace stood smoking and talking together, 
when Jack Heywood again approached and saluted 
them. 

"You said, gentlemen, that friends of mine 
helped you. Where are they now ? " 



IN BRITTANY. 269 

" In the town of Weymouth," returned Dela- 
mere. " An old man and woman. They did not 
tell me, by the way, who you were." 

" My name is Heywood," said Jack, drawing 
himself up, " and I was unjustly convicted of 
murder ! " 

" So I've just heard," answered my lord, dryly. 

" I see you don't believe me," continued Jack ; 
"but, as God is my Judge, I'm an innocent man. 
'Twas the knowledge o' that made me mad some- 
times yonder i' prison. But I thank you with all 
my heart for what you've done, though what's to 
become of me now I don't know." 

And he turned aside, to hide the tears that 
were streaming down his face. 

" Poor devil! " muttered Delamere. " Don't look 
like a murderer, either ! But, for that matter," 
he added, with a grin, " we're all convicts now. I 
say, Deuceace, suppose we hoist the black flag, 
and take to piracy. We shall never be able to 
return to civilized life again ! " 

The night passed, and Fitzherbert still sur- 
vived, though more or less unconscious of his con- 
dition. Fortunately, though there was a strong 
north-westerly wind, the sea was comparatively 
smooth, and the little vessel sailed gallantly on to 
the coast of France. The sailors kept a sharp 
look-out, but saw only a few sailing ships and 
fishing-boats. Early the next morning, however, 
they sighted a large English vessel, which they 
recognized as a man-of-war. She passed within 



270 RACHEL DENE. 

a couple of miles of them, with the English colours 
flying, and, for the moment, every man's heart 
was in his mouth, but she disappeared presently, 
to their infinite relief. 

Not until the second morning did they sight the 
Breton coast. Creeping close in the morning grey, 
they found themselves in the neighbourhood of a 
small fishing village at the mouth of a river. The 
shallows thereabouts were very dangerous, and 
they had constantly to take soundings. 

" Know where you are ? " asked Delamere of 
the captain. 

"All right, my lord," was the reply. "Been 
here before with a cargo." 

"We must get the wounded man ashore as soon 
as possible," continued Delamere. " I think we're 
safe here." 

It was decided, however, that both Fitzherbert 
and Heywood should exchange their prison dresses 
for a couple of rough suits purchased of the sailors. 
As the vessel ran in towards the mouth of the 
river, the change was effected — not without some 
inconvenience and pain to poor Fitzherbert. Then 
the anchor was run down, and a boat was lowered. 
While they were bringing Fitzherbert on deck, 
Delamere took the sailors aside, and paid them 
their money out of a heavy bag of gold. 

** What shall you do now ? " he asked the 
captain. 

The sea-dog grinned, and jingled the money in 
his pockets. 



IN BRITTANY. 271 

"Eun down to Brest, and go on the spree," he 
replied. 

"I needn't ask you fellows to keep quiet," said 
his lordship. " No one knows of this business but 
ourselves, and we're all equally culpable. So 
mum's the word ! " 

A couple of hours later Fitzherbert was lying 
in bed, in a small village inn, half-farm, half- 
cabaret. His friends had brought a French 
surgeon to him, who, after carefully examining 
his wounds, pronounced that with care he might 
possibly recover. It was a very bad case, how- 
ever ; and by this time the patient was tossing 
about deliriously, in a state of violent fever. Julia 
O'Gallagher sat by the bedside, eager to nurse 
him back to life. 

" If you knew — if you knew ! " she sobbed. 
" Oh, gentlemen, it was all my father's doing ! 
Your friend .was too noble to say a word in his 
own defence. He was silent that he might spare 
me pain ! " 

" Poor Fitz ! " muttered Delamere, dashing 
away a tear. ** He was always staunch, wasn't 
he, Deuceace ? " 

*' Eather ! " said the Major. " Well, he's got a 
good nurse, at any rate." 

They left Julia alone with the patient, and 
walked down to the window. Here they found 
Jack Heywood, dressed in his sailor's suit, and 
looking sadly out to sea. 



272 RACHEL DENE. 

"How is he, gentlemen?" asked Jack. 

" Much the same. Sawbones thinks he may 
pull round." 

"It's very strange that we should be here to- 
gether," continued Jack. " I saw him once or twice 
in prison, and recognized him directly. He was 
a great friend of Ealph Holhs, of Deepdale." 

" Now Earl Beauchamp," said Delamere. " Yes, 
that's right enough. Beauchamp and he have 
always been close pals." 

" I met them together at Doncaster t' very night 
before t' murder," continued Jack; and as he pro- 
ceeded, he fell from excitement into the old familiar 
Yorkshire dialect. " I had gotten more drink than 
was good for me, and I ha' sometimes thought they 
two played me a scurvy trick. Anyhow, after I 
had drank wi' Hollis and t' Captain, I lost my 
senses. When I got them again, I was a prisoner 
in t' gaol, accused o' killing t' best man that ever 
liyed — t' man I loved best of all men in t' world 
— my poor foster-father, Jabez Pryke." 

The two gentlemen looked at him in wonder, for 
his voice was choked with tears, and he was sobbing 
like a child. 

" Jabez is yonder up i' heaven," he cried, 
lifting his hands, " and he knows — God bless him ! 
— that I loved him dear. I couldna have done 't ! 
I couldna have raised a hand to harm Jabez ! But 
'tis all a blank still 'tween the time when I drank 
wi' those chaps and the time I were a prisoner in 
gaol ! " 



IN BRITTANY. 273 

'' You were driinli, you see," suggested Delamere. 
"At any rate, I'm sure poor Fitz would never play 
you a scurvy trick, as you call it." 

And he turned on his heel, and walked towards 
the shore with Deuceace. Though capable of doing 
so much for a comrade of his own set, he had little 
or no sympathy with the criminal classes, and in 
his eyes Jack was a commonplace convict. 

" Queer, ain't it ? " he muttered. " Well, it's a 
queer world ! " 

" Doocid queer ! " chimed in Deuceace, who was 
no more eloquent than his friend. 

Jack watched them, and his heart swelled in- 
dignantly, for he felt that they did not believe a 
word of his story. He was a free man, but the 
taint of the prison was still upon him, the shadow 
of a hideous crime. What was he to do ? He had 
escaped, but he was still an outcast. He thought 
of his faithful old friends, of Kachel Dene. How 
was he to communicate with them? Would he 
ever see them again? Better, far better, he 
thought, if the bullets had struck him instead of 
the other, and he had died at the moment of his 
escape. 

While he stood in despair, the two gentlemen 
returned. 

"We've been talking it over," said Delamere. 
" We think you'd better not stay here. Your best 
plan, if you don't want to get caught again, is to 
make tracks for America." 

" I have no money," answered Jack. 



274 RACHEL DENE. 

"I'll get that all right. I'll lend you fifty 
pounds." 

" Why do you want me to go, my lord ? Can't 
I stay here a while, and see if that poor chap gets 
better ? " 

"It isn't safe," replied Delamere. "There is 
certain to be a bother, and I rather fancy the 
extradition treaty would be put in operation as 
soon as our hiding-place is discovered. Now we 
can manage to cook up some story about the sick 
man ; but if you hang about, it might get us into 
trouble." 

" Very well, my lord," said Jack, sturdily. " I 
see what it is : you want to get rid of me, because 
in the eyes of t' law I'm a murderer and a scoundrel ! 
But I'll go— I'll go ! " 

" The best thing you can do. Here's the 
money ! " He placed some notes and gold in 
Jack's hand ; then, turning to Deuceace with a 
laugh, he added, " I say, old man, I'm nearly 
cleared out ! I never told you how they stared at 
Coutts's when I handed in my cheque and asked 
for a thousand pounds in fivers. I shall consider 
it a cheap investment if we pull poor Fitz round." 

It was now growing late in the afternoon. On 
inquiry, Jack ascertained that a diligence would 
leave the village at midnight, with Brest for its 
destination ; and by that diligence he arranged to 
depart. He would doubtless find a vessel at Brest 
to take him on to the Far West. As soon as the 
arrangements were made, he again sought out 



IN BRITTANY. 275 

Delamero and Deiiceace, who were sitting in the 
little cafe attached to the inn. 

" Only one favour before I go, gentlemen," he 
said. " I want to have one last look at t' poor 
chap upstairs." 

" Very well," replied his lordship. " Only you 
must not speak to him ; he is to be kept quiet." 

They went upstairs together and knocked at the 
bedroom door. Julia O'Gallagher, pale and calm 
as any sister of mercy, let them in. 

" He is very restless," she whispered. " I have 
given him the doctor's draught, but it does not 
seem to do him good." 

They approached the bedside. Fitzherbert lay 
on his back, his eyes wide open, breathing heavily 
as if in pain. 

"Poor chap! — poor chap!" murmured Jack, 
looking down upon him. 

At that moment the wounded man gave a start, 
and turned his head. His eyes looked straight 
into Julia's face. 

** Who's that?" he cried. 

"It's me — Jack Heywood," answered Jack, with 
a sob, " who was with you in t' prison. Don't you 
know me, Captain ? I met you long ago wi' Ealph 
Hollis, at Doncaster." 

" Come away, man," said Delamere, taking Jack 
by the arm. 

But before they could leave the room Fitzherbert 
called them back. 

" Stop ! Don*t go ! " he cried. ** I remember 



276 RACHEL DENE. 

now. Come here, I say. It's all coming back 
upon me before I die. Give me some brandy — 
quick ! " 

Julia glanced at Deuceace, who nodded assent, 
and bending gently over him, she wet his lips with 
spirits and water. He was quite conscious now, 
and sensible. Haggard and wild, panting for 
breath, he waved to Jack and the others, beckon- 
ing them to the bedside. 

"Ah, Algy, old man! God bless you for what 
you've done ; but it's no use — no use ! I'm going ! " 

" No, no ! " sobbed Julia. " Calm yourself, 
dear ; you'll soon be well." 

" I shall never be well again," he answered, 
reaching out for her hand. "My poor Julia! 
God will look after you when I am gone. Algy, 
old man, I loved her — remember that ! " 

" I'll remember," replied Delamere, almost 
breaking down. 

"But I can't die till I've told you the God's 
truth. You see that man ? Look at him ! God 
brought us together, and punished me. Listen, 
all of you. You shall listen ! We met him at 
Doncaster, Ealph Hollis and I, and doctored his 
drink. Next day we heard he had been taken up 
for murder. I thought him guilty, for he was 
taken red-handed with the murdered man. It was 
a lie ! He didn't do it ! He was as innocent as I 
was, poor devil ! I wouldn't have let him hang, 
but I let him go to a fate worse than hanging. 
God forgive me ! — God forgive me ! " 



A SUNBEAM IN DEEP DALE. 277 

In his wild frenzy of truth-telling, Fitzherbert 
sat up in the bed, his eyes fixed on Jack, his 
mouth twitching as if with palsy. 

"Come away," said Delamere; "it's killing 
him ! Lie down, old fellow, and go to sleep." 

"No!" said Fitzherbert. "Don't leave me, 
Algy ! Hear all I've got to say ! He's innocent, 
I tell you ! I know it, because I had the truth 
from the other man's own lips. And it wasn't 
murder, after all ! He swore it wasn't murder, but 
an accident ! " 

" Who — ivho swore it ? " exclaimed Jack. " Tell 
me, for God's sake ! " 

"Ealph Hollis ! " replied Fitzherbert: and he 
fell, fainting, back upon the bed. 



CHAPTEE XXIX. 

A SUNBEAM IN DEEPDALE. 

Rachel Dene sat alone in the drawing-room of the 
great house at Deepdale. 

Her grandfather and grandmother were bath 
away in London, and she was left in solitude, to 
entertain her own sad thoughts. 

The monotony of her life had been broken, only 
a few days before, by a letter from Joan Heywood, 
announcing the escape of Jack from Portland, fol- 
lowing close upon which had come the sensational 



278 RACHEL DENE. 

accounts in the newspapers of the mutiny in the 
prison, and the escape of the two prisoners. 
With a wildly-beating heart, she had read the 
reports, which culminated in the description of 
the flight down the shore by night, the wounding 
of one of the convicts, and the disappearance of 
both on board an unknown sailing vessel. One 
of the two had been dangerously hurt. But which 
of them ? The reports didn't tell — the reports 
did not know. Was it her lover ? — or was it his 
companion ? Sick with sympathy and terror, she 
read the wild record over and over again, but 
could come to no conclusion. 

Later details proved that all the machinery of 
police had been set to work to trace the fugitives, 
in vain. The coasts were everywhere patrolled 
and watched, armed ships were scouring the sea, 
the hue and cry was out on every side, but the 
missing vessel had cunningly evaded pursuit. 
Jack, then, had escaped ? But how ? — and was 
he dead or living? Eachel Dene would have 
given the world to know. 

Ralph Hollis was still in the Far West. After 
some months of salmon-fishing in Canada, he had 
gone on to Manitoba, and thence across country 
to Denver and San Francisco. He had written 
frequently — long letters, to which her grandfather 
had replied, and in one of which, received only 
a few weeks past, he had boldly expressed the 
hope that Eachel might some day become Lady 
Beauchamp. 



A SUNBEAM IN DEEPDALE. 279 

Jacob Dene had read her the words, and they 
seemed so kindly, so respectful, and so loyal, that 
she was deeply touched ; but she had only said, 
with a sad smile, " Nay, grandpapa, thou knowest 
I shall never marry." 

She had long seen, nevertheless, that the old 
people were working zealously on Ealph's behalf — 
a knowledge which would have made her very 
angry if she had not been completely possessed 
with the sentiment of the young Earl's kindness 
in her time of trouble. 

In point of fact, Ealph had been on the point 
of returning to England ; had actually taken his 
passage home by the North German Lloyd line 
from New York, when he read in the English 
newspapers an account of Fitzherbert's arrest and 
conviction. A nameless terror filled him, and he 
dared not return, lest the only man who knew his 
secret should involve him in his downfall. No; 
he would let the thing blow over, and, before 
sailing, discover if there was any danger. Meeting 
an old comrade in New York, he went on with 
him to New Orleans, where he fell back into some 
of his old habits, and relapsed into gambling and 
dissipation. 

As Rachel sat looking out at the wintry prospect, 
thinking of Jack, and wondering if he were alive 
or dead, a knock came to the door, and the 
waiting-maid brought in a card, saying that a 
gentleman wished to see her on particular busi- 
ness. She looked at the card and read, " Lord 



38o RACHEL DENE. 

Delamere," a name quite unfamiliar to her ; but 
she asked the maid to show the visitor into the 
drawing-room, and as he entered, rose to meet 
him with characteristic self-possession. 

" Good afternoon, Miss Dene," said his lord- 
ship, beaming upon her with his good-humoured 
boyish face. " You must let me apologize for 
intruding upon you without an introduction. I 
have come a long way to see you, and am 
glad to find you at home." Then, seeing her 
look of surprise, he added, "I've often heard of 
you, Miss Dene, from one whom you know very 
well." 

" Indeed ! " said Eachel, wondering still more. 
"Prithee, sit down." 

Delamere took a chair, and became a little con- 
fused and nervous — a very unusual circumstance 
■with one generally so cool. He fidgeted with his 
hat, dropped his umbrella, and all the time kept 
his eyes fixed nervously on the young girl's 
face. 

'* Can you keep a secret ? " he said, at last. 

"I hope so," she answered, smiling. 

"Because," he continued, smiling also, "I'm 
going to place myself in your power. If the police 
knew what I am going to tell you, I should very 
likely wear a sample of steel bracelets before 
to-morrow morning. I've broken the laws, my 
dear Miss Dene, in an awful way. I'm a regular 
criminal, egad ! " 

She gazed at him with fresh wonder, and began 



A SUNBEAM IN DEEPDALE. 281 

to think that he was, at lea&t, very eccentric. He 
certainly did not look like a criminal, though, for 
his face was the picture of indolent good humour. 
His next words startled her, and her colour came 
and went wildly as he spoke them. 

** Have you read in the papers of that affair at 
Portland ? " 

** The escape from prison ? " she cried. " Yes, 
yes ! 

"Well, you'll hardly believe it, but 7 was in it, 
and that is what has brought me here." 

Rachel rose to her feet with a cry. 

" Thou hast news of Jack — of Mr. Heywood ? 
Tell me quickly, is he alive or dead ? " 

"Make your mind easy. He is very much 
alive." 

"But one was wounded. I have been in terror 
ever since lest " 

" It was not your friend whom the rascals shot 
down," said Lord Delamere ; " it was poor Fitz, 
my chum — the best fellow in the world ! We 
planned their escape. It was well managed ; but 
poor Fitz got his quietus. He's — he's dead ! " 

And the speaker drew his hand across his eyes, 
while his hearty face grew sad and clouded. 

"But I gave him a promise before he died," 
continued Delamere to Rachel, who scarcely heard 
him, for she was weeping joyfully, and gazing 
silently. " I gave him a promise, and I'm going to 
keep it. With his dying breath. Miss Dene, he 
cleared an innocent man ; more than that, he had 



282 RACHEL DENE. 

everything set down, and legally witnessed, and 
signed it with his own hand." 

"What dost thou mean?" cried Eachel. He 
said — he said " 

" That young Heywood was no murderer. That 
the murder — it wasn't murder, though — was done 
by some one else." 

" I knew it — I knew it ! Oh, thank God — thank 
God ! " 

At the joyful news, all her love sprang up like a 
fountain, and she wept like a child. As she tried 
to dry her eyes, she glanced towards the door, and 
uttered a wild cry. On the threshold of the room, 
framed in the doorway, stood a pale, bearded man, 
looking at her. He wore a rough sailor's suit, and 
was otherwise much changed ; but she knew him 
in a moment. 

" Jack ! " she cried ; and he sprang forward and 
caught her in his arms as she fainted away. 

When she recovered she was lying on the sofa, 
and Jack — the same kind, gentle Jack of old — was 
bending over her. 

"Forgive me, Eachel!" he said. "I thought 
you would be glad to see me again, and I think 
you were ; but I'd no right to take thee by sur- 
prise like that, my lass. I've come all the way to 
Deepdale to see thee, and tell thee some good news." 

She blushed and shrank away, for in a moment 
of joyful impulse she had revealed her whole heart 
to the man who had scarcely ever dared to speak 
to her of love. 



A SUNBEAM IN DEEPDALE. 283 

"Thou canst prove thy innocence," she said. 
" Oh, I am so glad, so glad ! " 

The man's face saddened. 

" Maybe, lass ; when 'tis all proved, you'll be a 
bit sorry too ; and I'm in trouble still. The 
hue and cry is out after me, and if the police 
knew I was here, they would take me back to 
gaol." 

She looked round. The room was empty, for 
Lord Delamere had discreetly retired. She sprang 
up, and closed the door. 

" Take thee ? But thou art innocent ! Ah, I 
knew it ! " 

" I'll have to j)rove it, my lass," said Jack, '* and 
that'll cause more sore hearts than one. But 
there, let me look at thee ! Let me see the sweet 
face I ha' dreamed of so many nights i' my 
trouble ! I ha' had a bad time, my lass, since last 
we met, but I'd go through it all again right gladly 
to be sure 0' one thing, and that one thing's thy 
love ! " 

He held her in his arms, and she didn't offer 
any resistance. Their lips met for one moment 
of supreme happiness. Then she looked up, and 
whispered, '' I knew thou wouldst come back to 
me. Jack ! " 

" Call me that again," he said. 

" Jack — dear Jack ! " 

" I was right, after all. You do love me, 
then ? " 

" I have loved thee always, I think ! " 



284 RACHEL DENE. 

" Always ? " 

'' At least, as long as I can remember. Most of 
all, Jack, in thy great trouble." 

There was a gentle tap at the door. Lord 
Delamere walked in, smiling. 

" Sorry to intrude, my lad, but we must get 
back to London. My dear Miss Dene, make your 
mind easy. Heywood here is going to walk right 
back into the lion's mouth, but he won't stay 
there. We'll prove he's innocent, right up to the 
hilt, egad ! " 

And he took Jack's hand. 

" This is our best friend," Jack cried. " We 
mustn't get him into trouble. No man must know 
how it all came about." 

Jack Heywood proceeded straight to London 
and surrendered himself to the authorities, while 
Lord Delamere went off to his friend the great 
criminal lawyer, and put the whole matter in his 
hands. A white lie was necessary to free Dela- 
mere and Deuceace from complicity in the escape 
from Portland, so it was suggested that the two 
gentlemen, when rambling in Brittany, had found 
Fitzherbert at the point of death, and by the 
merest accident received his last confession. 
Suspicion pointed to them as agents in the escape, 
but proof was difficult, not to say impossible. But 
money and influence in plenty were brought to 
bear on the authorities. In a very short time 
Jack's innocence was proved, and a warrant 



A SUNBEAM IN DEEPDALE. 285 

issued for the arrest of Ealph Hollis, Lord 
Bcauchamp. 

That warrant, however, was never executed. 
On the very day of its issue, information was 
received by cable that an EngHsh peer, Earl 
Beauchamp, had been shot dead in a gambling 
affray at New Orleans. The shock of the news 
killed his mother. She was thus spared the 
knowledge of her son's great crime. Further 
details confirmed the cable report, and added 
shocking particulars, with which we decline to 
trouble the reader. 

Jack Heywood walked forth into the sunshine, 
a free man. His first impulse was to go to Lord 
Delamere, and thank that kindly peer for all his 
goodness. He found his lordship in the smoking- 
room of the club, in company with Major 
Deuceace. They were looking sorrowfully at a 
letter, which ran as follows : — 

" Dear Lord Delamere, 

" I am leaving England for India. Before 
I go I wish to send you my last adieux, for we 
shall never meet again. God will reward you for 
your loyalty to your friend, the man I loved, and 
shall love until I die. I do not mourn him ; I am 
too proud, too glad. He died like an English 
gentleman, and was happier in such a death than 
in his life. 

" Yours always truly, 

"Julia O'Gallagher.' 



286 RACHEL DENE. 

"Poor Fitz ! " said Delamere, folding up the 
letter. 

*' Poor Fitz ! " echoed Deuceace. 

Then they shook hands with Jack, and asked 
him to join them in a brandy and soda. He 
declined, saying he had sworn off strong drink for 
ever, but took some lemonade. 

**I say, you're wanted in Yorkshire," said Lord 
Delamere, smiling. 

Jack laughed, and wrung the gentlemen's hands. 
He would have hugged them both. Then he 
rushed from the room, almost crying. 

*'' Queer world ! " soliloquized Delamere. 

" D — d queer ! " echoed the gallant Major. 

*' Poor Fitz ! " 

" Poor Fitz ! " 

Then both gentlemen looked at each other 
dolefully. 

" Can't stand this," said Algernon, Lord Dela- 
mere. "Eing the bell! Here, waiter, bring me 
some more brandy and soda." 

Our tale is told. If the reader demands any 
further sequel, let him betake himself some day 
to the happy and prosperous valley of Deepdale. 
There he will learn, what he already guesses, that 
John Heywood, once tried and convicted for 
murder, reigns where Jacob Dene reigned, and 
is now, thanks partly to the great invention, 
the richest manufacturer in Yorkshire ; and that 
his wife Rachel, once Rachel Dene, is his fit 



A SUNBEAM IN DEEPDALE. 287 

helpmate, his companion in all things noble, and 
the gentle mother of his many children. So the 
dark cloud turned, and the silver lining shone 
out upon the night at last. 



THE END. 



PRIKTED by WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED, 
LONDON AND BECCLES. 



CHATTO 8c WINDUS, PUBLISHERS, PICCADILLY. 3 

BEF^BOHM (JULIUS).— WANDERINGS IN PATAGONIA ; or, Life 

a.nong the Ostrich Hunters. With llliisl rations. Crown 8vo. cloth extra, Sst, <id. 

BELLEW (FRANK).— THE ART OF AMUSING: A Collection of Grace- 

ful Arts, Games, Trick s, Puzzles, and Charades. 300 Ulusts. Cr. Svo.cl. ex.. 4m. tfd. 

BENNETT (WTc., LL.D.), WORKS BY. Post 8vo, doth ump. ii». each. 

A BALLAD HIST ORY OF KNGLAND. | SONGS FOR SAILORS. 

BEWICKTTHOMAS) and his pupils. By Austin Dobson. With 

95 Illustrations. Squar e 8vo, cloth extra , tin. 

BIERCE (AMBROSE).— IN THE MIDST OF LIFE: Tales of Soldiers 

and Civilians. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, <»». ; post 8vo , illustrated boards, 3». 

bTlL NYE'S HISTORY OF THE UNITED STATES. With 146 Illus- 

trations by F. Opper. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, ^s. 0«1. 

BLACKBURN'S (HENRY) ART HANDBOOKS. 



ACADEMY NOTES, 187S, 1877-86, 1883, 

1890. 1892-1895. each Is. [May. 

ACADEMY NOTES, 1875-79. Complete 

in One Vol., with 600 lUnsts. Cloth, 6s. 

ACADEMY NOTES, 1880-84. Complete 

in One Vol., with 700 Illusts. Cloth, 6s. 

GROSYENOR NOTES, 1877. 6d. 
GROSYENOR NOTES, separate years, 

from 1878-1890, c.ich Is. 

GROSYENOR NOTES, Vol. I., 1877-82. 

With V" TUusf;. Demy 8vo, cloth, 6s. 

GROSYENOR NOTES,Vol. II., 1883-87. 

With 300 Illusts. Demy 8vo, cl oth, 6s. 



GROSYENOR NOTES, Vol. III., 1888-90. 

With 230 Illusts. Demy 8vo, cloth, 3s. 6d. 

THE NEW GALLERY, 1888-1893. With 

numerous Illustrations, each Is. [J/tzj'. 

THE NEW GALLERY, Vol. I., 1888 1892. 

With 250 Il'ustrations. Demy fvo. cloth, 6s. 

ENGLISH PICTURES at the NATIONAL 

GALLERY. Wiih 114 Illustrations. Is. 

OLD MASTERS AT THE NATIONAL 

GALLERY. With 128 Illustrations. Is. 6d. 

ILLUSTRATED CATALOGUE TO THE 

HATIONAL GALLERY. 142 lUusts., cl., 3s. 



THE_PARIS SALON, 1894. With Facsimile Sketches. 3s. 

BLIND (MATHILDE), Poems by. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 5s. each. 
THE ASCENT OF MAN. 

DRAMAS IN MINIATURE. With a Frontispiece by Ford Madox Brown. 
SONGS AND SONNETS. Fcap. 8vo, vellum and gold. 



BOURNE (H. R. FOX), WORKS BY. 

ENGLISH MERCHANTS : Memoirs in Illustration of the Progress of British Com- 
merce. With numerous Illustrations. Crown Svo, cloth extra, Vs. 6d. 
ENGLISH NEWSPAPERS: The His^o.-v of Tournalism. Two Vols., demy 8vo, cl., 359. 
'■ THE OTHER SIDE OF THE EMIN PA SHA R ELIEF E XPE DITION Cr. Svo, C s. 

BO W£RS~(GEORGE).— LEAVES FROM A HUNTING JOURNAL. 

Oblong folio, half-bound, 3l8. 

BOYLE (FREDERICK), WORKS BY. Post 8vo, illustrated boards, 3s. each. 
CHRONICLE S OF NO-MAN'S LAND. | CAMP N OTES. | SA VAGE LI FE. 

B^ANDlJ^HN).— OBSERVATIONS ON POPULAR ANTIQUITIES ; 

chiefly illustrating the Origin of our Vulgar Customs, Ceremonies, and Superstitions. 
With the Additions of Sir Henry Ellis, and Illusts. Cr, 8vo, cloth extra, 7s. <i<i. 

BREWER (REV. DR.), WORKS BY: 

THE READER'S HANDBOOK OF ALLUSIONS, REFERENCES, PLOTS, AND 
STORIES. Seventeenth Thousand. Crown svo. cloth extra, 7s. Cd. 

AUTHORS AND THEIR WORKS, WITH THE DATES: Being the Appendices to 
" The Reader's Handbook," separately printed. Crown Svo, cloth limp, 3s. 

A DICTIONARY OF MIRACLES. Crown Svo. cloth extra, 7s. «»d. 

BREWSTER (SIR DAVID), WORKS BY. Post 8vo, cl. ex., 48. «d. each. 
MORE WORLDS THAN ONE: Creed ot Philosopher and Hope of Christian. Plates. 
THE MARTYRS OF SCIENCE: Galileo,Tycho Brake, and Kepler. With Portraits. 
LE TTERS ON NATU RAL M AGIC. With nume rous Illustrations. 

BnL"LA?f^SAVXRrN.— GASTRONOMYIlS a FINE ART. Translated 

by R. E. Anderson, M.A. Post Svo, half-bound, 3s. 

BURTON (RICHARD F.).— THE BOOK^OF THE SWORD: With 

over 400 Illustrations. Demy 4to, cloth extra. ;{38. 

BURfOFTROBERT).— THEXNATOMY OF MELANCHOLY. With 

Translations of the Quotations. Demy Svo, cloth extra, 78. fed. 

MELANCHOLY ANATOMISED. Abridgment of Burton's Anat. Post Svo, 3s. 6d. 



4 CHATTO & WiNDUS, PUBLISHERS, PICCADILLY. 

BRET HARTE, WORKS BY. 

BRET HARTE'S COLLECTED WORKS. Arranged and Revised by the Author. 
LIBRARY EDITION. In Eight Volumes, crown 8vo, cloth extra, «s. each. 
Vol, I. Complete Poetical and Dramatic Works. With Steel Portrait. 
Vol. II. Luck of Roaring Camp— Dohemian Papers — American Legends. 
Vol. III. Tales of the Argonauts — Eastern Sketches. 
Vol. IV. Gabriel Conroy. | Vol. V. Stories— Condensed Novels, &c. 
Vol. VI. Tales of the Pacific Slope. 

Vol. VII. Tales of the Pacific Slope— II. With Portrait by John Pettie, R.A, 
Vol. VIII. Tales of the Pine and the Cypress. 
THE SELECT WORKS OF BRET HARTE, in Prose and Poetry. With Introductory 
Essay by ]. M. Bellew, Portrait of Author, and 50 Illusts. Cr.Svo, cl. ex., 7s. <i<l. 
BRET HARTE'S POETICAL WORKS. Hand-made paper & buckram. Cr.Svo, 4s.«€l. 
THE QUEEN OF THE PIRATE ISLE. With 28 original Drawings by Katb 
Greenaway, reproduce d in Colours by Edmund Evans. Small 4to, cloth, Ss* 
Crown 8vo, cloth extra, Ss. 0«1. each ; post 8vo, picture boards, 3s. each, 
A WAIF OF THE PLAINS. With 60 Illustrations by Stanley L. Wood. 
A WARD OP THE GOLD EN GATE. With 59 Illu strations by Stanley L. Wood, 

Crown 8vo, cloth extra, iis. «jd. each, 
A SAPPHO OF GREEN SPRINGS, &c. With Two Illustrations by Hume Nisbet. 
COLONEL STARBOTILE'S CLIENT, AND SOME OTHER PEOPLE. Frontisp, 
SUSY : A Novel. With Frontispiece and Vignette by J. A. Christie. 
SALLY DOWS, &c. With 47 Illustrations by W. D. Almond, &c. 
A PROTEGlEE OF JACK HAMLIN'S. With 26 Illustrations by W. Small, &C. 
THE BELL-RINGER OF ANGEL'S, &c. 39 Illusts. by Dudley Hardy, &c. 
CLARENCE : A Story of the War. With Illustratio ns. [Shortly, 

Post Svo, illusuated boards, "^s. each. 
GABRIEL CONROY. I THE LUCK OF ROARING CAMP. &c. 

AN HEIRESS OF RED DOG, &c. | CALIF ORNIAN STORIES. 

Post Svo, illustratpd boards, 3s. each; cloth limp, 'is, Od. each. 

FLIP. I MARUJA^ I A PHYLLIS OP THE SIERRAS. 

f cap. 8vo, picture cover, J.'*, each. 
SNOW-BOUND AT EAGLE'S . | JEF^F BJJIGGS'S LOVE STORY. 

BRIDGES rHAROLD).- UNCLE SAM AT-HOME. Post 8vo, illus- 

trated boards, 'is. ; cloth limp, '2s, 4i<l. 

BUCHANAN (ROBERT )rWORKS BY. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, «s. each. 
SELECTED POEMS OF ROBERT BUCHANAN. With Frontispiece by T. Dalziel. 
THE EARTHQUAKE; or, Six Days and a Sabbath. 

THE CITY OF DREAM: An Epic Poem. With Two Illustrations by P. Macnab. 
THE WANDERING JEW; A Chris t mas Carol. S econd Edition. 
THE OUTCAST ; A Rhyme for the Time. With 15 Illustrations by Rudolf Blind, 

Peter Macnab, and Hume Nisbet. Small demy Svo, cloth extra, Ss. 
ROBERT BUCHANAN'S COMPLETE POETICAL WORKS. With Steel-plate Por- 
trait. Crown Svo, cloth ex tra, ys. Gd. 

Crown Svo, cloth extra, 3s. ©d. each; post Svo, illustrated boards, 38. each. 



THE SHADOW OF THE SWORD 

A CHILD OP NATURE. Frontispiece. 

GOD AND THE MAN. With ii Illus- 
trations by Fred. Barnard. 

THE MARTYRDOM OF MADELINE. 
With Frontispiece by A. W. Cooper. 



LOVE ME FOR EVER. Frontispiece. 
ANNAN WATER. | FOXGLOVE MANOR. 
THE NEW ABELARD. 
MATT : A Story of a Caravan. Frontisp 
THE MASTER OF THE MINE. Front 
THE HEIR OF LINNE. 



Crown Svo, cloth extra, tin. tid. each. 

WOMAN AND THE MAN. | RED AN D WHITE HEATHER. 

RACHEL DENE, Crown Svo, cloth extra, 3s. «d. [Sebt 

LADY KILPATRICK. Crow n Svo, cloth extra, 6s. [Shortly. 

THE CHARLATAN. By Robert Buchanan and" Henry Murray. Two Vols., 
crown Svo, lOs. net. 



PAINE (T. HALL), NOVELS BY. Crown Svo. cloth extra. 3s. 6d. each; 
post 8vo, illustrated boards, 3s. eacli ; cloth limp, 3s. ttd. each. 
SHADOWOF A CRIME. I A SON OP HAG AR. | THE DE EMSTER. 

CAMERON (COMMANnER V. LOVETT).— THE CRUlSE~dF~THE 

_" BLACK PRINCE^' PRIVATEER. P"st8jvo^picture boards. 38. 

CAMERON (MRS. H. LOVETT), NOVELS BY.~Post8vo.iiiust.bds.,38.each, 

JULIET'S GUARDIAN. I DECEIVERS EVER. 



CARLYLE (JANE WELSH), LIFE OF. By Mrs. Alexander Ireland. 
With Portrait ana Facsimile Letter. Small demy 8vo, cloth extra. 7s. iiil. 



CHATTO &. WINDUS, PUBLISHERS, PICCADILLY. 



CARLYLE (THOMAS) on the CHOICE of BOOKS. Post 8vo, Is. 6d. 

CORRESPONDENCE OF THOMAS CARLYLE AND R. W. EMERSON, 1834 to 1872. 
Edited by C. E. Norton. With Portraits. Two Vols., crown 8v o. cloth, itin. 

CHAPMAN'S (GEORGE) WORKS.— Vol. I., Plays.— VoL II., Poems and 
Minor Translations, with Essay by A. C. Swinburne. — Vol. III., Translations of 
the Iliad and Odyss ey. Three Vols., crown 8vo, cloth, 6ti. each. 

CHAPPLE (J. MITCHELL).- THE MINOR CHORD: A Story of a 

Prima Donna. Crown 8v o, art linen, lis. < > tl. ^^^^^^ 

CHATTO (W. A.) AND J. JACKSON. — A TREATISE ON WOOD 

ENGRAVING. With 450 fine I llustrations. Large 4to, half-leather, aS w. 

CHAUCER^FORlTHrLDREN : A Golden Key. By Mrs. H. R. Haweis. 
With 8 Coloured Plates and 30 Woodcuts, Small 4to, cloth extra, 39. €d. 
CHAUCER FOR SCHOOLS. By Mrs. H. R. Haweis. Demy 8vo. cloth limp. 3». 6«1. 

CHESS BOOKS. 

THE LAWS AND PRACTICE OP CHESS. With an Analysis of the Openings. 

By Howard Staunton. Edited by R. B. Wormald. Crown 8vo, cloth, 5s. 
THE MINOR TACTICS OP CHESS: A Treatise on the Deployment of the Forces. 

By F. K. Young and E. C. Howell. Long leap. 8vo, cloth, 39. 6(1. 

ClXRE(A .)r=^0 R"THlO:0VE"0F XLASS. Post8^2s. ; cl.,2s76d; 

CLIVE (MRS. ARCHER), NOVELS BY. Post Svo, illust. boards 2«. each. 
PAUL FERROLL. I WHY PAUL FERROLL KILLED HIS WIFE. 



CLODD ( EDWARD , F.R. A.S.).-MYTHS AND DREAMS. Cr.8vo..'{s.6d. 
COBBAN (J. MACLAREN), NOVELS BY. 

THE CURE OF SOULS. Post Svo, illustrated boards, 29. 

THE RED SULTAN. Crown Svo, cl. extra, 39.6d. ; post Svo, illustrated bds., 3s. 

THE BURDEN OF ISABEL. Crown Svo, cloth ex tra. 3a. 6*1^. 

COLEMXNn: JOHN). -PLAYERS AND PLAYWRIGHTS I HAVE 

KNO WN. Two Vols., demy Svo, cloth, 348. _ 

COLERI DGE (M. E.) —SEVEN SLEEPE R S OF EPHESUS. Is. 6(1. 
COLLINS (CALLSTON). -T HE BAR SINISTER. Post 8vo, 2s. 
COLLINS (JOHN CHURTON. M.A.), BOOKS BY. 

ILLUSTRATIONS OF TENNYSON. Crown Svo, cloth extra, 69. 

JO NATHAN SWI FT : A Biographical and Critical Study. Crown Svo, cloth extra. Sa. 

COLLINS (MORTIMER AND FRANCES), NOVELS BY. 

Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 3s. Od. each; post Svo, illustrated boards, 3». each, 
FROM MIDNIGHT TO MIDNIGHT. | BLACKSMITH AND SCHOLAR. 
TRANSMIGRATION, j Y OU PLAY M E FALSE. | A VILLAGE COMEDY. 
Post Svo, illustrated boards. 3.<*. each. 
SWEET ANNE P AGE. | FIGHT W I TH FORTUNE. | SWEET & TWENTY. | FRANCES. 

COLLINS (WILKIE), NOVELS BY. 

Cr. Svo. cl. ex., 3.«i. ttd. each ; post Svo, illust. bds., 3«. each ; cl. limp, 39. 6d. each, 
ANTONINA. V/ith a Frontispiece by Sir John Gilbert, R.A. 
BASIL. Illustrated by Sir John Gilbert, R.A., and J. Mahoney. 
HIDE AND SEEK. Illustrated by Sir John Gilbert, R.A., and J. Mahonfy. 
AFTER DARK. Illustrations by A. B. Houghton. | THE TWO DESTINIES. 
THE DEAD SECRET. With a Frontispiece by Sir John Gilbert, R.A. 
QUEEN OF HEARTS. With a Frontispiece by Sir John Gilbert, R.A. 
THE WOMAN IN WHITE. With lUusts. by Sir J. Gilbert, R. A., and F. A. Fraser. 
NO NAME. With Illustrations by Sir J. E. Millais, R.A., and A. W. Cooper. 
MY MISCELLANIES. With a Steel-plate Portrait of Wilkie Collins. 
ARMADALE. With Illustrations by G. H. Thomas. 

THE MOONSTONE. With Illustrations by G. Du MAURiERand F. A. Fraser. 
MAN AND WIFE. With Illustrations by William Small. 
POOR MISS FINCH. Illustrated by G. Du Maurier and Edward Hughes. 
MISS OR MRS.? With Illusts. by S. L. Fildes, R.A., and Henry Woods, A.R.A. 
THE NEW MAGDALEN. Illustrated by G. Du Maurier and C. S. Reinhardt. 
THE FROZEN DEEP. Illustrated by G. Du Maurier and J. Mahoney. 
THE LAW AND THE LADY. lUusts. by S. L. Fildes, R.A., and Sydney Hall. 
THE HAUNTED HOTEL. Illustrated by Arthur Hopkins. 



THE FALLEN LEAVES. 
JEZEBEL'S DAUGHTER. 
THE BLACK ROBE. 



HEART AND SCIENCE. 
"I SAY NO." 
A ROGUE'S LIFE 
BLIND LOVE. With Prefa ce by Walter Besant, and lUusts. by A. Forestier, 

THE WOMAN IN WHITE, Popular Edition. Medium Svo, Od. ; cloth 1», 



THE EVIL GENIUS, 
LITTLE NOVELS. 
THE LEGACY OF CAIN, 



CHATTO & WINDUS, PUBLISHERS, PICCADILLY. 



COLMAN'S (GEORGE) HUMOROUS WORKS: "Broad Grins," "My 

Nightgown and Slippers ," &c. With Life and Frontis. Cr. gvo, cl. extra, 78. 6il. 

COLQUHOUN (M. J.).— EVERY INCH A SOLDIER : A Novel. Post 

8vo, illustrated boards, 'ia, 

CONVALESCENT COOKERY: A Family Handbook. By Catherine 

Ryan . Crown 8vo. la.; cloth limp . Is. 6d. 

CONWAY (MONCURE D.), WORKS BY. 

DEMONOLOGY AND DEVIL-LORE. 65 Illustrations. Two Vols. 8vo, cloth, 8S8. 
GEO RGE WASHINGTON' S RULES OF CIVILITY. Fcap.Svo, Jap, vellum. 8g. Otl. 

COOK (BUTTON), NOVELS BY. 

PAUL FOSTER'S DAUGHTER. Cr. 8vo, cl. ex., 3». 6d. ; post Svo.illust. boards, 29. 
LEO. Post Hvo. illustrated boards, 28. ____^ 

COOPER (EDWARD H.)-GEOFFOR Y HAM ILTO N. C r. 8vo, 3s. 6d. 

CORNWALLT^POPULAR romances of the west OF ENG- 
LAND ; or, The Drolls, Traditions, and Superstitions of Old Cornwall. Collected 
by Robert Hunt, F.R.S. Two Steel-plates by Geo.Cruiks hank. Cr.Svo, cl.,7a. Od . 

COTES (V. CECIL).— TlVO"^lRLSl)NrArBARGE. With 44 Illustra- 
tions by F. H. TowNSE ND. Post 8v o, cloth , 2w. <?d. 

CRADDOCK (C. EGBERT), STORIES BY. 

PROPHET OF THE GREAT SMOKY MOUNTAINS. Post 8vo, illustrated boards, Ss. 
HIS VANISHED STAR. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 38. «>d. 

crellInIhTn.), bo^ks by. 

ROMANCES of the OLD SERAGLIO. 28 Illusts. by S. L. Wood. Cr. 8vo, cl., 3«. 6d. 
THE NAZARENES; A Drama. Crown 8vo, Is. 

CRIM (MATT.).— ADVENTURES OF A FAIR REBEL. Crown 8vo, 

cloth extra, with a Fr ontispiece, 3a. Cd. ; post 8vo, illustrated boards, 2». 

CROKER (MRS. B. M.), NOVELS BY. Crown Svo, doth extra, 38. 6d. 
each; post 8vo, illustrated boards, Ss. each ; cloth limp, 3s. 6d. each. 
PRETTY MISS NEVILLE. I DIANA HARRINGTON. 

A BIRD OF PASSAGE. PROPER PRIDE. 

A FAMILY LIKENESS. | "TO LE T." 

MR. JERVIS. Three Vols., crown Svo, cloth. 1.58. net. 

VILLAGE TALES AND JUNGLE TRAGEDIES. Crown Svo, cloth, 38. 6d, 



CRUIKSHANK'S COMIC ALMANACK. Complete in Two Series : 
The First from 1835 to 1843; the Second from 1844 to 1853. A Gathering of 
the Best Humour of Thackeray, Hood, Mayhew, Albert Smith, A'Beckett, 
Robert Brough, &c. With numerous Steel Enyravings and Woodcuts by Cruik- 
SHANK. HiNE, Landells, &c. Two Vols., crown Svo, cloth gilt, 7*. 6d. each. 
THE LIFE OF GEORGE CRUIKSHANK. By Blanchard Jerrold. With 84 
Illustrations and a Bibliography. Crown S vo, cloth extra, Ga. 

GUMMING (C. F. GORDON), WORKS BY. Demy 8vo. cl. ex., «8. 6d. each. 
IN THE HEBRIDKS. Whh Autotype Facsimile and 23 Illustrations. 
IN THE HIMALAYAS AND ON THE INDIAN PLAINS. With 42 Illustrations. 
TWO HAPPY YEARS IN C EYLON. With 28 Illu strations. 
VIA CORNWALL TO EGYPT. With Photogravure Frontis. Demy Svo, cl., 78. 6d. 



CUSSANS (JOHN E.).— A HANDBOOK OF HERALDRY ; with In- 

structions for Tracing Pedigrees and Deciphering Ancient MSB., &c. ; 408 Woodcuts 
and 2 Coloured Plates. Fourth edition, revised, crown Svo, cloth extra, Cs, 

CYPLES(W.)— HEARTS Of GOLD. Cr.8vo,cl.,3s.6d.; post8vo,bds.,2s. 
RANIEL (GEORGE).-MERRIE ENGLAND IN THE OLDEN TIME. 

with Illustrations by Robert Cruikshank. Crown Svo, cloth extra, 3s. 4>d. 

DAUDET (ALPHONSE).-THE EVANGELIST; or, Port Salvation. 

Crown Svo, cloth extra, 3s. Od.; post Svo, illustrated boards, 3s. 

DAVIDSON (HUGH COLEMAN). -MR. SADLER'S^^DAUGHTERS. 

With a Frontispiece by Stanley Wood. Crown Svo, cloth extra, 3s. Od. 



DAVIES (DR. N. E. YORKE-), WORKS BY. Cr.8vo,l8.ea.: ci., is. «d. ea. 

ONE THOUSAND MEDICAL MAXIMS AND SURGICAL HINTS. 
NURSERY HINTS: A Mother's Guide in Health and Disease. 
FOODS B'OR THE FAT: A Treatise on Corpulency , and a Dietary for its Cura. 
AIDS TO LONG LIFE. Crown Svo, 28. ; cloth limp, 2». 6d, 



CHATTO & WINDUS, PUBLISHERS, PICCADILLY. 



DAVIES' (SIR JOHN) COMPLETE POETICAL WORKS. Collected 

and Edited, with Memorial-Introduction and Notes, by the Rev. A. B. Grosart, D.D. 
Two Vols., crown 8vo, cloth boards, ItSs. 

DAWSON (ERASMUS7m.B.).— THE FOUNTAIN OF YOUTH. Crown 

8vo, cloth extra, ;{n. Od. ; post 8vo, illustrated boards, 'i«. 

DE GUERIN (MAURICE), THE JOURNAL OF. Edited by G. S. 

Trebutien. With a Memoir by Sainte-Beuve. Translated from the 20th French 
Edition by Jessie P. Frothingham. Fcap, 8vo, half-bound, 3». <><l. 

DE MAISTRE (XAVIER).-A JOURNEY ROUND MY ROOM. Trans- 

lated by Henry Attwkll. Post 8vo, cloth lim p, 'ia. ttd. 

DE MILLE (JAMES).— A CASTLE IN~SPAIN. With a Frontispiece. 

Crown 8vo, cloth extra, tia. Gd. ; post 8vo, illustrated boards, !is. 

DERBY (THE).— THE BLUE RIBBON OF THE TURF. With Brief 

Accounts of The Oaks. By Louis Henry Curzon. Cr. 8vo, cloth limp, iSs. Od. 

DERWENT (LEITH), NOVELS BY. Cr.8vo,cl., Ss.Od. ea.; post 8vo,bds.,a8.ea. 
OUR LADY OF TEARS. I CIRCE'S LOVERS. 

DEWAR (T. R.).— A RAMBLE ROUND THE GLOBE. With 220 

Illustrations. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 7». ttd. 

DICKENS (CHARLES), NOVELS BY. Post Svo, illustrated board... 2«. each. 
SKETCHES BY BOZ. | NICHOLAS NICKLEB Y. | OLIVER TWIST. 

THE SPEECHES OF CHARLES DICKENS, 1841-1870. With a New Bibliography 
Edited by Richard Herne Shepherd. Crown 8vo, cloth extra. Ks. 

ABOUT ENGLAND WITH DICKENS. By Alfred Rimmer. With 57 Illustrations 
by C. A. Vanderhoof, Alfred Rimmer, and others. Sq. 8vo, cloth extra, 7s. «d. 

DICTIONARIES. 

A DICTIONARY OF MIRACLES: Imitative, Realistic, and Dogmatic. By the Rev. 
E. C. Brewer, LL.D. Crown Svo, cloth extra, 7«. {id. 

THE READER'S HANDBOOK OF ALLUSIONS, REFERENCES, PLOTS, AND 
STORIES. By the Rev. E. C. Brewer, LL.D. With an English Bibliography. 
Seventeenth Thousand. Crown 8vo. cloth extra tf>. 6d. 

AUTHORS AND THEIR WORKS, WITH THE DATES. Cr. 8vo, cloth limp, 8*. 

FAMILIAR SHORT SAYINGS OP GREAT MEN. With Historical and Explana- 
tory Notes. Bv Samuel A. Bent. AM. Crown 8vo, cloth extra. Ts. <id. 

SLANG DICTIONARY : Etymological, Historical, and Anecdotal. Cr. Svo, cl., «s. 6d. 

WOMEN OF THE DAY: A Biographical Dictionary. By F.Hays. Cr. 8vo, cl., 5s. 

WORDS, FACTS, AND PHRASES: A Dictionary of Curious, Quaint, and Out-ot- 
the-Way Matters. By Eliezer Edwards. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 7*. till. 

DIDEROT.— THE PARADOX OF ACTING. Translated, with Notes. 
by Walter Herries Pollock. With a Preface by Henry Irving. Crown Svo, 
parc hment, 4«. 6d. 

DOBSON (AUSTIN), WORKS BY. 

THOMAS BEWICK & HIS PUPILS. With 95 Illustrations. Squaie Svo, cloth. 69. 
FOUR FRENCHWOMEN. With 4 Portraits. Crown Svo, buckram, gilt top, «8. 
E IGHTEENTH CENTURY VIGNETTES. Two Series. Cr. S vo, buckram, fis. each. 

DOBSON (W. T.)-POETICAL INGENUITIES ANETeCCENTRICI- 

TIES. Post Svo, cloth limp, 'in. 6d. 

DONOVAN (DICK), DETECTIVE STORIES BY. 

Post Svo. illustrated boards, 3s, each; cloth limp, '.is. 6d. each. 



THE HAN-HUNTER. | WANTED! 

CAUGHT AT LAST I 

TRACKED AND TAKEN. 

WHO POISONED HETTY DUNCAN? 

SUSPICION AROUSED. 



A DETECTIVE'S TRIUMPHS. 
IN THE GRIP OP THE LAW. 
FROM INFORMATION RECEIVED. 
LINK BY LINK. | DARK DEEDS. 

THE LONG ARM OF THE LAW. ^Shortly. 



Crown 8vo, cloth, '.in. 6d. each ; post Svo, boards, 2». each ; cloth, 89. 6d. each. 
THE MAN FROM MANCHESTER. With 23 Illustrations. 
TRACKED TO DOOM. With 6 full-page Illustrations by Gordon Browne. 



DOYLE (A. CONAN).— THE FIRM OF GIRDLESTONE: A Romance 

of the Unromantic, Crown 8vo, cloth extra, Sa. Qd. 



8 CHATTO & WINDUS, PUBLISHERS, PICCADILLY. 

DRAMATISTS, THE OLD. with vignette Portraits. Cr. 8vo, cl. ex., Gsi. per Vo?. 

BEN JONSON'S WORKS. With Notes Critical and Explanatory, and a Bio- 
graphical Memoir by Wm. Gifford. Edited by Col. Cunningham. Three Vols. 

CHAPMAN'S WORKS. Complete in Three Vols. Vol. I. contains the Plays 
complete; Vol. II., Poems and Minor Translations, with an Introductory Essay 
by A. C. Swinburne ; Vol. III., Translations of the Iliad and Odyssey. 

MARLOWE'S WORKS. Edited, with Notes, by Col. Cunningham. One Vol. 

MAS SINGER'S PLAYS. From Gifford's Text. Edit by CoI.Cunning ha m. OneVol . 

DTJNCAN (SARA JEANNETTE : Mrs. Everard Cotes), WORKS BY. 

Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 7s. Od. each. 
A SOCIAL DEPARTURE: H9W Orthodocia and I Went round the World by Our- 
selves. With III Illustrations by F. H. Townsend. 
AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON. With 80 Illustrations by F. H. Townsend. 
' THE SIMPLE ADVENTUR ES OF A MEMSAHIB. Illustrated by F. H. Townsend. 
Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 3s. Od. each. , 

A DAUGHTER OP TO-DAY. | VERNON'S AUNT. 47 IHust?. by Hal H urst. 

DYER (T. F. THISELTON, M.A.).— THE FOLK-LORE OF PLANTS. 

Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 6 ». 

FARLY ENGLISH POETS. Edited, with Introductions and Annota- 
tions, by Rev. A. B.Grosart, D.D. Crown 8vo, cloth boards, 68. per Volume. 
FLETCHER'S (GILES) COMPLETE POEMS. One Vol. 
DAVIES' (SIR JOHN) COMPLETE POETICAL WORKS. Two Vols. 
HERRICK'S (ROBERT) COMPLETE COLLECTED POEMS. Three Vols. 
SIDNEY'S (SIR PHILIP) COMPLETE POETICAL WORKS. Three Vols. 



EDGCUMBE (E. R. PEARCE).— ZEPHYRUS : A Holiday in Brazil and 
on the River Plate. With 41 Illustra tions. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 5». 

EDISON, THE LIFE & INVENTIONS OF THO~MAS A. ByW.K.L.and 

A. Dickson. JWith 200 Illustrations by R. F. Outcalt, &c. Demy 4to, cloth gilt, ISs. 

EDWARDES (MRS. ANNIE), NOVELS BY^ 

A POINT OF HONOUR. Post 8vo, illustrated boards, «». 

ARCHIE LOVELL. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 3s. 6 d. ; po st 8vo, illust. boards, 28. 

IdWARDS (ELIEZER).-V/0RDS, FACTS, AND PHRASES; A 

Dict ionary of Quaint Matter s. Crown 8vo, cloth, 7». Od. 

IDWARDS (M. BETHAM-), NOVELS BY. 

KIT TY. Post 8vo, ttm. ; cloth, 'Js. « d. | FELICIA. Post 8vo, 88. 

EGE^TON (REV. J. C.).-SUSSEX FOLK AND SUSSEX WAYS. 

With Introd uction b y Rev. Dr. H. Wage, and 4 Illustrations. Cr. 8vo, cloth ex., 5s. 

EgG IEST ON (EDWARD).— ROXY : A Novel. Post 8vo, illust. bds.,2s. 

ENGLISHMAN'S HOUSE, THE : A Practical Guide to all interested in 
Selecting or Building a House ; with Estimates of Cost, Quantities, &c. By C. I. 
Rich ardson. With Coloured Frontispiece and 600 Illusts. Crown 8vo , cloth, Ts. 6d. 

EWALD (ALEX. CHARLES, F.S.A.), WORKS BY. 

THE LIFE AND TIMES OF PRINCE CHARLES STUART, Count of Albany 

(The Young Pretender). With a Portrait. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, Ts. 6d. 
STORIE S FROM THE STATE PAPERS. With an Autotype. Crown 8vo, cloth,«8. 

Eyes, our : how to preserve Them from Infancy to Old Age. By 
J ohn Browning. F.R.A.S. With 70 Illusts. Twenty-fourth Thousand. Cr. 8vo Is. 

FAMILIAR SHORT SAYINGS OF GREAT MEN. By Samuel Arthur 

Bent. A.M. Fifth Edition, Revised and Enlarged. Crown 8vo, oloth extra, Ts. 6d. 

FARADAY (MICHAEL), WORKS BY. Post 8vo, cloth extra, 48. 6d. each. 

THE CHEMICAL HISTORY OF A CANDLE: Lectures delivered before a Juvenile 
Audience. Edited by William Crookes. F.C.S. With numerous Illustrations. 

ON THE VARIOUS FORCES OF NATURE, AND THEIR RELATIONS TO 
E ACH OTHER. Edited by W il liam Crookes, F.C.S. With Illus trations . 

FARRE'R (J. ANSON), WORKS BY: 

MILITARY MANNERS AND CUSTOMS. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 68. 

WAR : Three Essays, reprinted from " Military Manners." Cr. ftvo. la. : cl. . Is. 6d. 

FENN (G. MANVILLE), NOVELS BY. ~ 

Crown 8vo. cloth extra, 3s. 6d. each ; post Svo, Illustrated boards, 38. each, 

THE HEW MISTRESS. | WITNE SS TO THE DEED. 

Crown Svo, cloth extra, 3s. ©d. each. 
- THE TIGER LILY : Tale of Two Passions. | THE WHITE ¥IE6IN. 



CHATTO & WINDUS, PUBLISHERS, PICCADILLY. 9 

FIN-BEC— THE CUPBOARD PAPERS : Observations on the Art of 

Living and Dining. Post 8vo , cloth li mp, '^a. 6d . 

FIREWORKS, THE COMPLETE ART OF MAKING ; or, The Pyro- 

fechnist's Treasury. By Thoma s Kkntish. With 267 lllustrationf. Cr. 8vo, cl., 5». 

FIRST BOOK, MY. By Walter Besant, James Payn, W. Clark Rus- 
SELL, Grant Allen, Hall Caine, George R. Sims, Rudyard Kipling, A. Conam 
Doyle, M. E. Braddon, F. W. Robinson, H. Rider Haggard, R. M. Ballantyne, 

I. 2ANGWILL, MORLEY ROBERTS, D. CHRISTIE MURRAY, MaRIE CoRELLI, J. K. 

Jerome, John Strange Winter, Bret Harte, " Q.," Robert Buchanan, and R. L. 
Stevenson. With a Prefatory Story by Jerome K. Jerome, and 185 Illustrations. 
Small demy 8vo, cloth extra, 7s. <>d. ^____ 

FITZGERALD (PERCY), WORKS BY. 

THE WORLD BEHIND THE SCENES. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 3». 6d. 
LITTLE ESSAYS: Passages trom Letters of Charles Lamb. Post 8vo, cl., 3g. 6d. 
A DAY'S TOUR: Journey through France and Belgium. With Sketches. Cr.4to,1». 
FATAL ZERO. Crown 8vo , cloth extra, '.is. 6d. ; post 8vo, illustrated boards, ^s. 

Post 8vo, illustrated boards, '.is. each. 
BELLA DONNA. I LADY OP BRANTOME. I THE SECOND MRS. TILLOTSON. 
POLLY. I NEVER FORGOTTEN. I SEYENTY-FIYE BROOKE STREET. 

LIFE OF JAMES BOSWELL (of Auchlnleck). With an Account of his Sayings, 

Doings, and Writinss ; and Four Portraits. Two Vols., demy 8to, cloth. !i4s. 
TH E SAVOY OPERA. With 60 Illustrations and Portraits. Cr. 8vo, cloth, 3». 6d. 

FLAMMARION (CAMILLE), WORKS BY. 

POPULAR ASTRONOMY: A General Description of the Heavens. Translated by 

]. Ellard Gore, F.R.A.S. With 3 Plates and 388 Illusts. Medium 8vo, cloth, 16s. 

URANIA : A Romance. With 87 Illustrati ons. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 5*. 

FLETCHER'S (GILES, B.D.) COMPLETE POEMS : Christ's Victorie 

in Heaven, Christ's Victorie on Earth, Christ's Triumph over Death, and Minor 
Poems. With Notes by Rev. A. B. Grosart, D.D. Crown 8vo, cloth boards. <>i». 

FONBLANQUE(ALBANY).-FILTHY LUCRE. Post8vo.illust.bds., 2s. 
FRANCILLON (R. E.), NOVELS BY. 

Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 3s. fid. each; post 8vo, illustrated boards, 8«. each. 
ONE BY ONE. | A REAL QUEEN. | KING OR KNAVE? 

ROPES OF SAND. Illustrated. \ A DOG AND HIS SHADOW. 

Post 8vo, illustrated boards, :2s. each. 
QUEEN COPHETUA. | OLYfflPIA. | ROMANCES OF THE LAW. 

JACK DOYLE'S DAUGHTER. Crown Svo, cloth, 3». 6d. 

ESTHER' S GLOVE. Fcap. 8vo, picture cover. In. 

FREDERIC (HAROLD), NOVELS BY. Post Svo, illust. bds., 2s. each. 

S ETH'S BROTHER'S WIFE. | THE LAWT ON GIRL. 

FRENCH LITERATURE, A HISTORY OF. By Henry Van Laun. 

Three Vols., demy 8vo, cloth boards, 7s. Od. each. 



FRISWELL (H AIN).— ONE O F TWO : A Novel. Post Svo, illust. bds., 2s. 

FROST (THOMAS), WORKS BY. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, Ss. 6d. each. 
CIRCUS LIFE AND CIRCUS CELEBRITIES. | LIVES OP THE CONJURERS. 
THE OLD SHOWMEN AND THE OLD LONDON FAIRS. 



FRY'S (HERBERT) ROYAL GUIDE TO THE LONDON CHARITIES. 

Edited by John Lane. Published Annually. Cr own 8vo, cloth. Is, fid. 

GARDENING BOOKS. Post 8vo, is. each ; cloth limp, 1». fid. each. 

" A YEAR'S WORK IN GARDEN AND GREENHOUSE. By George Glenny. 

HOUSEHOLD HORTICULTURE. By Tow and Jane Jerrold. Illustrated. 

THE GARDEN THAT PAID THE RENT. By To m Jerrold. 

MY GARDEN W ILD. By Fr anci s G. H eath. Crow n 8vo, cloth extra, fia. 

GARRETT (EDWARD).— THE CAPEL GIRLS: A Novel. Crown 

8vo, cloth extra. 38. fid.; post 8vo, illustrated boards, '2s. 

GAULOT (PAUL).— THE RED SHIRTS : A Story of the Revolution. 

Trans lated by J. A. J. de Villiers . Crown 8vo, cloth, 3s. fid. 

eENTlEMAN'S ANNUAL, THE, Published Annually in November. Is, 



lo CHATTO & WINDUS, PUBLISHERS, PICCADILLY. 

GENTLEMAN'S MAGAZINE, THE. Is. Monthly. With Stories, Articles 

upon Literature, Science, and Art, and "TABLE TALK" by Sylvanus Urban, 

*»* -ioMnji Volumes for recent '^ears kept in ^tock. S», dd. each. Cases for binding, 9a, 

GERMAN POPULAR STORIES. Collected by the Brothers Grimm 
and Translated by Edgar Taylor. With Introduction by John RosKiN.and 22 Steel 
Plates after George Crui kshank. Square 8vo. cloth, fis. 6«1.; gilt edges, 7w. <id. 

GIBBON (CHARLES), NOVELS BY. 

Crown avo, cloth extra, 3s. <id. each ; po'^t 8vo, illustrated boards, 3a. each. 
ROBIN GRAY. I THE GOLDEN SHAFT. 

LOVING A DREAM. | OF HIG H DEGREE. 

Post 8vo, illustrated boards. 'Zm. each. 



THE FLOWER OP THE FOREST. 

THE DEAD HEART. 

FOR LACK OP GOLD. 

WHAT WILL THE WORLD SAY? 

POR THE KING. | A HARD KNOT. 

QUEEN OP THE MEADOW. 

IN PASTURES GREEN. 



IN LOVE AND WAR. 

A HEART'S PROBLEM. 

BY MEAD AND STREAM. 

THE BRAES OF YARROW, 

FANCY FREE. 

IN HONOUR BOUND. 

HEART'S DELIGHT. | BLOOD-MOKEY. 



GIB NEY (SOMERVILLE).-S E NTENCED! Cr. 8vo, Is. ; cl.. Is. 6d. 

GILBERT (WILLIAM), NOVELS BY. Post Svo, illustrated boards. 2«. each. 
DR. AUSTIN'S GUESTS. I JAMES DUKE, COSTERMONGER. 
THE WIZARD OP THE MOUNTAIN. | 

GILBERT (W. S.), ORIGINAL PLAYS BY. Three Series, 2s. 6d. each. 

The First Series contains: The Wicked World— Pygmalion and Galatea — 
Charity— The Princess— The Palace of Truth— Trial by Jury. 

The Second Series : Broken Hearts— Engaged— Sweethearts— Gretchen — Dan'l 
Druce — Tom Cobb — H.M.S. " Pinafore" — The Sorcerer — Pirates of Penzance. 

The Third Series: Comedy and Tragedy — Foggerty's Fairy — Rosencrantz and 
Guildenstern— Patience— Princess Ida — The Mikado — Ruddigore— The Yeo- 
men of the Guard— The Gondoliers— The Mountebanks — Utopia. 

EIGHT ORIGINAL COMIC OPERAS written by W. S. Gilbert. Containing: 
The Sorcerer — H.M.S. "Pinafore"— Pirates of Penzance — lolanthe— Patience — 
Princess Ida— The Mikado — Trial by |nry. Uemy Svo, cloth limp, Ha. Cel. 

THE "GILBERT AND SULLIVAN" BIRTHDAY BOOK: Quotations for Every 
Day in the Year, Selected Irom Plays by W. S. Gilbert set to Music by Sir A, 
Sulliv an. Compiled by Alex. Watson. Royal i6mo, Jap, leather, 'J8. (itl. 

GLANVILLE (ERNEST), NOVELS BY. ~ ~ 

Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 3s. <id. each ; post Svo, illustrated boards, Ss. each. 
THE LOST HEIRESS: A Tale of Love, Battle, and Adventure. With 2 lUusts. 
THE FOSSICKER : A Romance of Mashoncdand. With 2 Illusts. by Hume Nisbet. 
A FAIR COLONIS T. 

GLENNY (GEORGE).— A YEAR'S WORK in GARDEN and GREEN- 

HOUSE: Practical Advice to Amateur Gardeners as to the Management of the 
Flower. Fruit and Frame Garde n. Post Svo, !».; clot h limp. Is. 6d. 

GODWIN (WILLIAM).— LTVES OF THE NECROMANCERS. Post 

8vo. cloth limp, ''in. 

UOLDEN TREASURY OF THOUGHT, THE : An Encyclopaedia of 
Quotations. Edited by T heodore Taylor. Crown Svo. cloth gilt, 7». <>d. 

G^NTAUT, MEM0IRS~0F the DUCHESSE DE (Gouvernante to the 
Children of France), 1773-1836. With Photogravure Frontispieces. Two Vols., small 
demy Svo, cloth extra, iils. 



GOODMAN (E. J.). -the FATE OF HERBERT WAYNE. Crown 

Svo, cloth extra, li». 6d . 

GHAHAITTLEONARD). — THE PROFESSOR'S WIFE: A Story. 

Fcap. Svo, picture cover. Is. 



GREEKS AND ROMANS, THE LIFE OF THE, described from 

Antique Monuments. By Ernst Guhl and W. Koner. Edited by Dr. F. Hueffer. 
With 54s Illustrations. Large crown Svo. cloth extra, 7a. Od. 

GREVILLE (HENRY), NOVELS BY: 

NIKANOR. Translated by Eliza E. Chase. Post Svo, illustrated boards, Ss. 
A MQ^LE WOMAN. CrowjjSvo, cloth extra, 5». 3 post Svo, illustrated boards^ :£■. 



CHATTO Si WINDUS, PUBLISHERS, PICCADILLY. ii 

GREENWOOD (JAMES), WORKS BY. Cr. 8vo, doth extra, Ss. 6d. each. 
_ THE WI LDS OF LONDON. | LO W-LIFE D EEPS. 

GRIFFITH (CECIL).— CORINTHIA MARAZION : A Novel. Crown 

8vo, cloth extra, '.in. 6d. ; post Hvo, illustrated boards, 'ia. 

GRUNDY (SYDNEY).— THE DAYS OF HIS VANITY : A Passage in 

the Life of a Youn g Man. Crown Bvo, cloth extra, ^<. tt<i. ; post 8vo, boards , iJB. 

IIABBERTON (JOHN, Author of " Helen's Babies"). NOVELS BY. 
■" Post 8vo, illustrated boards ^a. each ; cloth limp, 2i». 6d. each. 

BRUETON'S BAYOU. | COUNTRY LUCK. 

HAIR, THE : Its Treatment in Health, Weakness, and Disease. Trans- 
lated from the German of Dr. J. Pincus. Crown 8vo , Is. ; cloth, 1». 6d. 

HAKE (DR. THOMAS GORDON), POIeMS BY. Cr. svo, ci. ex., 6s. each. 

HEW SYMBOLS. | LEG ENDS OF T HE MORRO W. | THE SERPENT PLAY. 
MAIDE N ECSTASY. Small 4 to, cloth ext ra. 8s. 

HALL (MRS. S. C.).-SKETCHES OF IRISH CHARACTER. With 

numerous Illustrations on Steel and Wood by Maclise, Gilbekt, Harvey, and 
George Cruikshank. Small demy 8yo, cloth extra, fa, <id^ 

HALLIDAY^A!?DREWV=ETEHY-BAY PAPERS. Post 8vo, 2s. 

HANDWRITING, THE PHILOSOPHY OF. With over loo Facsimiles 
and Explanatory Toxt. By Don Fklix de Salamanca. Post Svo, cloth limp. 3s. fill. 

HANKY-^PXN"KY : Easy Tridki;~White Magic, Sleight of Hand, &c. 

Edited by W. H. Cremf.r. With 200 Illustratinn s. Crown 8vo. cloth extra. 4a. fid. 

HARDY~(LADY DUFFUS). - PAUJTWYNTER'S SACRIFICE. 2s. 
HARDY (THOMAS). -UNDER THE GREENWOOD TREE. Crown 

8vo. cloth extra, with Portrait and 15 Illustrations, 3s. fid. ; post Svo, illustrated 
bo ards. i?s. ; cloth limp, 'js. fid. 

HARPER (CHARLES G.), WORKS BY. Demy 8vo, cloth extra. Ifis.each. 
THE BRIGHTON ROAD. With Photogravure Frontispiece and 90 Illustrations. 
PROM PADOINGT ON TO PENZANCE: Th e Rec ord of a Summer Tramp. 105 Illusts. 

HARWOOD (J. BERWICK). — THE TENTH EARL. Post 8vo, 

illustrated hoa rds, 3». 

HAWEIS (MRS. H. R.), WORKS BY. Square Svo, doth extra, fis. each. 

THE ART OF BEAUTY. With Coloured Frontispiece and gr Illustrations. 

THE ART OF DECORATI ON. With Coloured Fr ontispiece and 74 Illustrations. 

THE ART OF DRESS. With 32 Illustrations. Post Svo, Is.; cloth, Is. fid. 

CHAUCER FOR SCHOOLS. Demy Svo, cloth limp, '-Js. fid. 
CHAU CER FOR CHILDREN. :i8 I llusts. (8 Coloured). Sm. 4 t o, cl. extra, 3s. fid. 

HAWEIS (Rev. H. R.,M.A.). -AMERICAN HUMORISTS : Washington 

Irving. Oliver Wendell Holmes, James Russell Lowell, Artemus Ward, 
Mark Twain, and Bret Harte. Third Edition. Crown Svo. cloth extra, fis . 

HAWLEY SMART. — WITHOUT LOVE OR LICENCE : A Novel. 

Crown Svo, cloth extra, 3s. fid. ; post Sv o, illustrated boards, 'i». 

HAWTHORNE (JULIAN), NOVELS BY. 

Crown Svo, cloth extra, 3s. fid. each; post Svo, illustrated boards, M». each 



GARTH. I ELLICEQUENTIN. 

SEBASTIAN STROME. 
FORTUNE'S FOOL. 



BEATRIX RANDOLPH. | DUST. 

DAVID POINDEXTER. 

THE SPECTRE OF THE CAMERA. 



Post Svo, illustrated boards, 'ia. each. 
MISS CADOGHA. | LOVE— O R A NAME. 
MRS. GAINSB OROUGH'S DIAMONDS. Fcap. Svo. illustrated cover, la. 

HAWTHORNE (NATHANIEL).— OUR OLD HOME. Annotated with 

Passages from the Author's Note-books, and Illustrated with 31 Photogravures 
Two Vols., crown Svo. buckram, gilt top, 15s. 

HEATH (FKANCIS GEORGE).— MY GARDEN WILD, AND WHAT 

I GREW THERE. Crown Svo, cloth extra, gilt edges, fis. 

HELPS (SIR ARTHUR), WORKS BY. Post Svo.cloth limp. as. fid. each 
ANIMALS AND THEIR MASTER S. | SOCI AL PRESSURE. 
lYAN DE BIRON: A Novel. Cr.Svo, cl. extra, Ss. 6d.; post Svo.illust. bds., Hi* 



12 CHATTO & WINDUS, PUBLISHERS, PICCADILLY. 

HENDERSON (ISAAC).— AGATHA PAGE: A Novel. Crown 8vo, 

cloth extra, 3s. 6d. 

HENTY (G. A.), NOVELS BY. Crown 8vo, doth extra, 3«. «<1. each. 

RUJUB THE JUGGLER. 8 lUusts. by Stanley L. Wood. Presentation Ed., 59. 
DOROTHY'S DOUBLE. ___^ 

HERMAN (HENRY).— A LEADING LADY. Post 8vo, illustrated 

boards, '2s. ; cloth extra. *2». 6d. _^_ 

HERRICK'S^TROBERT) HESPERIDES, NOBLE NUMBERS, AND 

COMPLETE COLLECTED POEMS. With Memorial-Introduction and Notes by the 
Rev. A. B. Grosart, D. D. ; Steel Portrait, &c. Three Vols., crown 8vo, cl. bds., J Ss. 

HERTZKA (Dp. THEODOR). — FREELAND : A Social Anticipation. 
Translated by Arthur Ransom. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 6s. 



HESSE- WARTEGG (CHEVALIER ERNST VON).-TUNIS : The Land 

and the Peop le. With 22 Illustrations. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, Ss, 6<I. 

HILL (HEADON):^ZAMBIlATHE DETECTIVE. Post 8vo, illustrated 

boards, t2s. ; cloth, Ha, Od. 

HILL (JOHNirWORKS^BY: 

TREASON-FELONY. Post 8vo,'Js. | THE COMMON ANCESTOR. Cr.Rvo, Ss.Cd. 

HINDLEY (CHARLES), WORKS BY. 

TAVERN ANECDOTES AND SAYINGS: Including Reminiscences connected with 

Coftee Houses, Clubs. &c. With Illustrations. Crown 8vo, cloth, lis, 6d. 
THE LIFE AND AD VE NTUR ES OF A C HEAP JACK. C r. 8vo, cloth ex., Ss, 6d. 

HOEY (MRS. CASHEL).-THE LOVER'S CREED. Post 8vo, 2^: 



HOLLINGSHEAD (JOHN).— NIAGARA SPRAY. Crown 8vo, Is. 



HOLMES (GORDON, M.D.).-THE SCIENCE OF VOICE PRODUC- 
TION AND VOICE PRESERVATION. Crown 8vo, Is. 



HOLMES (OLIVER WENDELL), WORKS BY. 

THE AUTOCRAT OF THE BREAKFAST-TABLE. Illustrated by J. Gordon 
Thomson. Post 8vo, cloth limp "Js. Od. — Another Edition, post 8vo, cloth, Us. 
THE AUTOCRAT OF THE BREAKFAST-TABLE and THE PROFESSOR AT THE 
B REAKFAST-TA BLE. In One Vol. Post 8vo, half-bound, Us. 

HOOD'S (THOMAS) CHOICE WORKS, in Prose and Verse. With Life 

of the Author, Portrait, and 200 Illustrations. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 7s. 6d. 
HOOD'S WHIMS AND ODDITIES. With 8 5 Illusts. Post 8v o, half- b ound, '^s. 

HOOD (TOM).— FROM NOWHERE TO THE NORTH~POLE : A 

Noah's Arkaaological Narrative. With 25 Illustrations by W. Brunton and E. C. 
Barnes. Square 8vo, cloth extra, gilt edges, 6». 

HOOK'S (THEODORETCHOICE HUMOROUS WORKS ; including his 

Ludicrous Adventures, Bons Mots, Puns, and Hoaxes. With Life of the Author, 
Portraits, Facsimiles, and Illustrations. Crown 8vo. cloth extra, 7», 6d. 

HOOPERTMRS. GE0.)7— the HOUSEDFRABY. Post 8vo, bds., 2s. 
HOPKINS (TIGHE). — '"TWIXT LOVE AND DUTY:" A Novef. 

Post 8vo. illustrated boards, 'i». 

HORNE (R. HEl^TSty^ORION : An Epic Poem. With Photographic 
Portrait by Summers. Tenth Edition. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 7n, 

HUNGERFORD (MRS., Author of "Molly Bawn,"), NOVELS BY. 

Post 8vo, illustrated boards, 'is. each ; cloth limp, 3s, fid. each. 
A MAIDEN ALL FORLORN. I IN DURANCE VILE. 1 A MENTAL STRUGGLE. 
MARVEL. I A MODERN C IRCE. 

LADY VERNER'S PLIGHT. Cr. 8vo, cloth, 3s. 6d. ; post 8vo, illust. boards, 2a. 
THE RED-HOUSE MYSTERY. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 3*. 6d. 
THE THREE GRACES. Two Vols.. IPs, nett. [Shortly. 

HUNT (MRS. ALFRED), NOVELS BY. 

Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 3s. tiO. each; post 8vo. illustrated boards, 3s. each. 
THE LEADEN CASKET. | SEL F -CONDE MNED. | THAT OTHER PERSON. 
THORNICROFT'S MODEL. Post 8vo, illustrated boards, 3s. 
MRS. JULIET. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, Ss. 6d. 

HUNT'S (LEIGH) ESSAYS : A Tale for a Chimney Corner, &c. 
Edited by Edmund Ollier. Post 8vo, printed on laid paper and half-bd., 3s. 



CHATTO & WiNDUS, PUBLISHERS, PICCADILLY. 13 

HUTCHISON (W. M.). — HINTS ON COLT-BREAKING. With 25 

Illustrations. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, '.is. <>€l. 

HYDROPHOBIA : An Account of M. Pasteur's System ; Technique of 

his Method, and St ati stics . By Rk naud Suzor, M.B. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, ««. 

HYNE (C. J. CUTCLIFFE). -HONOUR OF THIEVESr^Crown 8vo, 

cloth extra, 3». 6«l. ISkortly . 

IDLER (THE) : A Monthly Magazine. Profusely Iliustr. 6d. Monthly. 
The first Six Vols, now ready, cl. extra, Ss.each; Cases for Binding, In. tt<l.earb. 

INDOOR PAUPERS. ByONEOFTHFM. Crown 8vo, Is.; cloth, Is. 6d. 

INGEL OW (JEAN) .-FA TED TO BE FREE. Post svo, illustrated bds ., a«. 

INNKEEPER'S HANDBOOK (THE) AND LICENSED VICTUALLERS 

MANUAL. By J, Trevor-Davies. Crown Svo, Is. ; cloth, Iw. 0«1. 

IRISH WIT AND HUMOUR, SONGS OF. Collected and Edited by 
A. Perceval Graves. Post 8vo. cloth limp, 2s. tid, 

JAMES (C. T. C). — A ROMANCE OF THE QUEEN'S HOUNDS. 

Post Svo, picture cover , Is. ; cloth limp, Is. 0«!. 

JAMESON (WILLIAM). — MY 1)EAD^ELF. Post Svo, illustrated 
boards, 'is. ; cloth, '2s. <iii. 

JAPP (ALEX. H., LL.D.).— DRAMATIC PICTURES, SONNETS, &c. 

Crown Svo , cloth extra, 5». 

JAY (HARRIETT), NOVELS BY. Pom Svo, illustrated boards, 3s. each. 
THE DARK COLLEEN. I THE QUEEN OF CONNAUGHT. 



JEFFERIES (RICHARD), WORKS BY. Post Svo, cloth limp, 3«. «d. each. 
NATURE NEAR LONDON. | THE LIFE OF THE FIELDS. J THE OPEN AIR. 

■*** Also the Hand-made Paper Edition, crown Svo, buckram, gilt top, 6s. each. 

THE EULOGY OF RICHARD JEFFERIES. By Walter Besant, With a Photo- 
graph Portra it. Crown Svo. cloth extra. <5a. 

JENNINGS (HENRY J.), WORKSTjT: 

CURIOSITIES OF CRITICISM. Post Svo, cloth limp, Ss. 6d. 

LORD TENNYSON; A Biographical Sketch. Post Svo, Is.; cloth. Is. ttd. 

JEROME (JEROME K.), BOOKS BY. 

STAGELAND. With 64 Iilusts. byj. Bernard Partridge. Fcap. 4to, pict. cov., 1«. 
JOHN INGERFIELD, &c. With 9 Iilusts. by A. S. Boyd and John Gulich. Fcp. 
Svo, picture cover, Is. 6d. 

JERR0LD1D0UGLAS).-THE BARBER'S CHAIR ; and THE HEDGE"- 

HOG LETTERS . Po^t Svo, printed on laid paper and halt-bomid. 'ja. 

JERROLD (TOM), WORKFBY. Post Svo. is. each; cloth limp. Is. «.l. each, 

THE GARDEN THAT PAID THE RENT. 

HOUS EH OLD HORTICU LTURE : A Gossi p about Flowers. Illustrated. 

Jesse (eDward).-s"cenes and occupations of a country 

LIFE. Post Svo. cloth limp, 3k. 

JONES (WILLIAM, F.S.A.), WORKS BY. Cr.Svo. cl. extra, ys. ed. each. 
FINGER-RING LORE: Historical, Legendary, and Anecdotal. With nearly 300 

Illustrations. Second Edition, Revised and Enlarged. 
CREDULITIES, PAST AND PRESENT. Including the Sea and Seamen, Miners, 
Talismans, Word and Letter Uivination, Exorcising and Blessing of Animals, 
Birds, Eggs, Luck, &c. With an Etched Frontispiece. 
CROWNS AND CORO NAT IO NS; A History of Regalia. With 100 Illustrations. 

JONSO^f'S (BEN) WORKS. With Notes Critical and Explanatory, 
and a Biographical Memoir by William Gifford. Edited by Colonel Cunning- 
HAM. Three Vols., crown Svo. c loth extra, Os. each. 

JOSEPHUS, THE COMPLETE WORKS OF. Translated by Whiston. 
Containing "The Antiquities of the Jews" and "The Wars ot the Jews." With 52 
Illustrations and Maps. Two Vols., dem y Svo, half-bound, 13«. 6d. 

ITEMPT (ROBERT).— PENCIL AND PALETTE : Chapters on Art and 
Artists. Post Svo. cloth limo. 3». (id. 



14 OHATTO & WINDUS, PUBLISHERS, PICCADILLY. 



KERSHAW (MARK).— COLONIAL FACTS & FICTIONS : Humoro-is 

Sketches. Post 8vo. illustrated boards. 2w. ; cloth, !^s. fid. 

KEYSER (ARTHUR).— CUT BY THE MESS : A Novel. Crown 8vo, 

picture cover, Is. ; cloth limp, Is . iitl. 

KING (R. ASHE), NOVELS BY. Cr. Svo, cl., 3s. 6d. ea. ; post 8vo, bds., '-is. ca. 
A DRAWN GAME. | "THE WE ARING OF THE GREEN.' 

Post Svo, illustrated boards, 3s. each. 
_ PASSI ON'S SLAVE. | BELL BARRY. _ 

/INIGHT (WILLIAM, M.R.C.S., and EDWARD, L.R.C.P.).— THE 

PATIENT'S YADE MECUM : How to Get Most Benefit from Medical Advice. 
Crown Svo, Is .; cloth limp, Is. Bd . 

KNIGHTS (THE) OF THE LION : A Romance of the Thirteenth Century. 
Edited, with an Introduction, by the Marquess ot Lorne, K.T. Cr. 8vo. cl. ex. G<. 

T AMB'S (CHARLES) COMPLETE WORKS, in Prose and Verse, 
including " Poetry for Children " and " Prince Dorus." Edited, with Notes atid 
Introduction, by R. H. Shepherd. With Two Portraits and Facsimile of a page 
of the "Essay on Roast Pig.'' Crown Svo, half-bound, ^s. 6<I. 

THE ESSAYS OF ELIA. Post Svo, printed on laid paper and halt-bound, Ha. 

LITTLE ESSAYS: Sketches and Characters by Charles Lamb, selected from his 
Letters bv Percy Fitzgerald Post Svo, cloth limp, 'Js. 6«I. 

THE DRAMATIC ESSAYS OF CHARLES LAMB. With Introduction and Notes 
by Brander Ma tthews, and Steel-plate Portrait. Fcap. Svo, hf.-bd., ijs. <1. 

LANDOR (WALTER SAVAG£).-CITATION AND EXAMINATION 

OF WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE, &c., before Sir Thomas Lucy, touching Deer- 
atealing, igtb September, 1582. To which is added. A CONFERENCE OF MASTER 
EDMUND SPENSER with the Earl ot Essex, touching the State of Ireland, 1595. 
Fcap. Svo, half-Roxburgh e , 8s. 6<il. 

LANE (EDWARD WILLIAM). — THE THOUSAND AND ONE 

NIGH'TS, commonly called in England THE ARABIAN NIGHTS' ENTERTAIN- 
MENTS. Translated from the Arabic, will] Notes. Illustrated by many hundred 
Engravings from Designs by Harvey. Edited by Edward Stanley Poole. Wi»h a 
Preface by Stanley Lane-Poole. Thr ee Vols., demy Svo, cloth extra, 7a. 6d.each. 

LARWOOD (JACOB), W^RKS BY. 

THE STORY OF THE LONDON PARKS. With Illusts. Cr. Svo, cl. extra. 38. 6d. 
ANECDOTES OF THE CLERGY. Post Svo, laid paper, half-bound, 8a. 

Post 8vo, clotti limp, 3s. ©d. each. 
FORENSIC ANECDOTES^ I TH EATRICAL ANECDOTES . 

LEHMANN (R. OTWORKS BY. PostSvo.pict.cover, is. ea.; cloth, ls.6fl.ea. 
HARRY FLUDYER AT CAMBRIDGE. 
CONVERSATIONAL HINTS FOR YOU NG SHOOTERS: A Guide to Polite Talk. 

LEIGH'CHENRY^S.), WORKS BY. 

CAROLS OF COCKAtNE. Pninud on hand-made paper, bound in buckram, 5a, 
JEUX D'ESPRIT. Edit ed bv Hen ry S. Leigh. Post Svo. cloth limp, 8s. 6d. 

LEPELLETIER (EDMOND).— MADAME SANS-GENE. Translated 

from the French by J. A. J. de Villi ers. Crown Svo, c loth ex tra, 3 s. 6d. 
LEYS ( J0HN)7— THETINDSAYS : A Roman ce. Post 8vo, illust. bd"s7r2s. 
LINDSAY"(HARRY)T^RHODA ROBERTS : A Welsh Mining Story. 

Crown Svo, cloth, 3 s. <m1. IShoit 'y. 

LINTON (E. LYNN), WORKS BY. Post Svo, doth limp, 8s. «d. each. 

WITCH STORIES. | OURS ELVES: Essays on Women. 

Crown Svo, cloth extra, 3s. «d. each; post Svo, illustrated boards, 8s. each. 
PATRICIA KEMBALL. | lONE. 1 UNDER V/HIGH LORD? 

ATONEMENT OF LEAM DUNDAS. "MY LOVE!" | SOWING THE WIND. 

THE WORLD WELL LOST. I PAS TON CAREW, Millionaire & Miaer. 

Post Svo, illustrated boards, 8s. each. 
THE REBEL OF THE FAMILY. I WITH A SILKEN THREAD. 
THE ONE TOO MANY. C rowr Svo , cloth extra. 3 s. Od. 
PREESHOOTING : Extracts tron; Work-, ui Mrs. Linton. Post Svo, cloth, 8'*. 6d. 

LUCY~(HENRY W.).— GIDE()N FLEYCE : A Novel. Crown bvo, 

cloth extra. 3s. ttd.; post Svo, illustrated boards. 8s. 



CHATTO 8c WINDUS, PUBLISHERS, PICCADILLY. 15 

MACALPINE (AVERY), NOVELS BY. 

TERESA ITASCA. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, Is. 

BROKEN WINGS. With G Illusts. by W. J. Hennessy. Crown 8vo, cloth extra. 6»« 

McCarthy (justin, m.p.), works by. 

A HISTORY OP OUR OWN TIMES, from the Accession of Queen Victoria to the 
General Election of 18H0. Four Vols, demy 8vo, cloth extra, Itiii. each.— Also 
a Popular Editics, in Four Vols., crown 8vo, cloth extra, <»«• each.— And a 
Jubilee Edition, with an Appendix of Events to the end ol 1S86, in Two Vols., 
large crown 8vo, cloth extra, tt. 4)«l. each. 

A SHORT HISTORY OP OUR OWN TIMES. One Vol.. crown 8vo, cloth extra, «». 
— Also a Cheap Popular Edition, post 8vo, cloth liinp, 3s. 0«I. 

A HISTORY OP THE FOUR GEORGES. Four Vo's. demy 8vo, cloth extra, 
I'in. each. fVols. I. & II. ready. 

Cr. 8vo, cl. extra, 3«. 6<l. each; post 8vo, illust. bds.. tJs. each ; cl. limp, tis. 0<l.each. 



THE WATERDALE NEIGHBOURS. 

MY ENEMY'S DAUGHTER. 

A PAIR SAXON. 

LINLEY ROCHFORD. 

DEAR LADY DISDAIN. 

MISS MISANTHROPE. 



DONNA QUIXOTE. 

THE COMET OP A SEASON. 

MAID OP ATHENS. 

CAMIOLA: A Girl with a Fortune. 

THE DICTATOR. 

BED DIAMONDS. 



"THE RIGHT HONOURABLE." By Justin McCarthy, M.P.,and Mrs. Campbell 
Praed. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 6s. 

McCarthy cjustin huntly), works by. 

THE PRENCH REVOLUTION. Four Vols., 8vo, Vi». each. [Vols. I. & 11. readv. 

AN OUTLINE OP THE HISTORY OP IRELAND. Crown 8vo, Is. ; cloth. Is. 4><1. 

IRELAND SINCE THE U NION : Irish History. 179 8-1886. Crown 8vo, cloth, «s. 

HAPIZ IN LONDON: Poems. Small 8vo. sold cloth, 3«. ««l. 

HARLEQUINADE : Poems. Small 4to, Japanese vellum, 8s. 

OUR SENSATION N0VEL.~"Crowrr8vo7picture cover, Is. ; cloth limp, Is. 6d. 

DOOM ! An Atlantic Episode, Crown 8vo, picture cover. Is. 

DOLLY: A Sketch. Crown 8vo, picture cover. Is.; clotli limp, Is. 0<l. 

LILY LASS: A Romance. Crown 8vo, picture cover, Is. ; cloth limp, Is. Gd. 

THE THOUSAND AND ONE DAYS. 2 Photogravures. Two Vols., cr. 8vo, 13s. 

A LONDON LEGEND. Three Vols., crown 8vo, 15s. net. 

MACCOLL (HUGH), NOVELS BY. 

MR. STRANGER'S SEALED PACKET. Post 8vo, illustrated boards, 38. 
. EDNOR WHITLOCK. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 6b. 

MACDONALD (GEORGE, LL.D.), WORKS BY. 

WORKS OP PANCY AND IMAGINATION. Ten Vols., i6mo,cl., gilt edges, in cloth 

case, 31s. Or the Vols, may be had separately, in grolier cl., at 3s. 6d. each. 

Vol. I. Within and Without. — The Hidden Life. 

,, II. The Disciple. — The Gospel Women. — Book of Sonnets. — Organ Songs. 

I, III. Violin Songs. — Songs of the Days and Nights. — A Book of Dreams. — 

Roadside Poems. — Poems for Children. 
„ IV. Parables. — Ballads. — Scotch Songs. 

,,V. &VI. Phantasies: A Faerie Romance. | Vol. VII. The Portent. 

„VIII. The Light Princess. — The Giant's Heart. — Shadows. 
„ IX. Cross Purposes. — The Golden Key. — The Carasoyn. — Little Daylight. 
„ X. The Cruel Painter. — The Wow o' Rivven. — The Castle. — The Broken 
Swords. — The Gray Wolf. — Uncle Cornelius. 
POETICAL WORKS OP GE ORGE^ ACDO N ALD. Collected and arranged by the 

Author. 2 vols., crown 8vo, buckram, 13s. 
A THREEFOLD CORD. Edited by George Mac Donald. Post 8vo, cloth, 5s. 
HEATHER AND SNOW: A Novel. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 3s. 6d. 
PHANTASTES: A Faerie Romance. With 25 Illustrations by J. Bell. Crown 8vo, 
cloth extra, 3s. 6d. 
LIHTH : A Romance. Crown Svo. cloth extra, 6s. {Shortly. 

MACDONEL L (AGNES).— QUAKER COUSINS. Post Svo, boards, 2s. 
MACGREGOR (ROBERT).-PASTIMES AND PLAYERS : Notes"c^ 

Popular Games. Post Svo. cloth limp, 3s. 6«l. 

MACKAY (CHARLES, LL.D.).— INTERLUDES AND UNDERTONES^ 

or, Music at Twilight. Crown Svo, cloth estra, <is. 



i6 CHATTO &. WINDUS, PUBLISHERS, PICCADILLY. 

MACLISE PORTRAIT GALLERY (THE) OF ILLUSTRIOUS LITER- 
ARY CHARACTERS: 83 PORTRAITS; with Memoirs — Biographical, Critical, 
Bibliographical, and Anecdotal — illustrative of the Literature of the former half of 
the Present Century, by William Bates, B.A. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, yw. ftji. 

MACQUOID (MRS.), WORKS BY. Square 8vo, doth extra. 6*. each. 
IN THE ARDENNES. With ^o Illustrations by Thomas R. Macquoid. 
PICTURES AND LEGENDS FROM NORMANDY AND BRITTANY. 34 Illustrations. 
THROUGH NORMANDY. With 92 Illustrations by T. R. Macquoid, and a Map. 
THROUGH BRITTANY. With 35 Illustrations by T. R. Macquoid, and a Map. 
ABOUT YORKSHIRE. With 67 Illustrations by T. R. Macquoid. 

Post 8vo, illustrated boards, 3s. each. 
THE EVIL EYE, and other Stories. | LOST ROSE. 

MAGICIAN'S OWN BOOK, THE : Performances with Eggs, Hats, &c. 

Edited by W. H. Cremer. With 200 Illustrations. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 4». fid. 

MAGIC LANTERN, THE, and its Management : including full Practical 
Directions. By T. C. Hepworth. 10 Illustrations. Cr. 8vo. Is.; cloth. Is. Od. 

MAGNA CHARTA : An Exact Facsimile of the Original in the British 

Museum, 3 feet by 2 feet, with Arms and Seals emblazoned in Gold and Colours, 5 », 

MALLOCK (W. H.), WORKS BY. 

THE NEW REPUBLIC. Post Svo, picture cover, 3s. ; cloth limp, Ss. Cd. 
THE NEW PAUL & VIRGINIA: Positivism on an Island. Post 8vo, cloth, Ss. 6d. 
POEMS. Small 410, parchment, 8s. 

IS LIFE WORTH LIVING? Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 6s. 

A ROMANCE OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Crown 8vo, cloth, 69.; post 8vo, 
illustrated boards, Us. 

MALLORY (SIR THOMAS).-MORT D' ARTHUR : The Stories of 

King Arthur and ot the Knights of the Round Table. (A Selection.) Edited by B. 

MONTGOMERIE RANKING. Post 8VO, cloth limp, 3s. 

MARK TWAIN, WORKS BY. Crown Svo, doth extra, ys. 6d. each. 

THE CHOICE WORKS OF MARK TWAIN. Revised and Corrected throughout 

by the Author. With Life, Portrait, and numerous Illustrations, 
ROUGHING IT, and INNOCENTS AT HOME. W ith 200 Illusts. by F. A, Fraser. 
MARK TWAIN'S LIBRAR Y OF HUMOUR. With 197 Illustrations. 

Crown 8vo, clotii extra (illustrated), ys. 6d. each; post 8vo, illust, boards, Ss. each. 
THE INNOCENTS ABROAD; or New Pilgrim's Progress. With 234 Illustrations 

(The Two-Shilling Edition is entitled MARK TWAIN'S PLEASURE TRIP.) 
THE GILDED AGE. Bv Mark Twain and C. D. Warner. With 212 Illustrations. 
THE ADVENTURES OP TOM SAWYER. With in Illustrations. 
A TRAMP ABROAD. With 314 Illustrations. 
THE PRINCE AND THE PAUPER. With 190 Illustrations. 
LIFE ON THE MISSISSIPPI. With 300 Illustrations. 

ADVENTURES OF HUCKLEBERRY FINN. With 174 Illusts. 6y E. W. Kemble. 
A YANKEE AT THE COURT OF KING ARTHUR. With 220 Illusts. by Beard. 

Post 8vo, illustrated boards, 3«. each. 
THE STOLEN WHITE ELEPHANT. | MARK TWAIN'S SKETCHES. 

Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 3s. 6d. each. 
THE AMERICAN CLAIMANT. With 81 Illustrations by Hal Hurst, &c. 
TOM LAWYER ABROAD. With 26 Illustrations by Dan Beard. 
PUDD'NHEAD WILSON. With Portrait and Six I llustrations by Louis Loeb, 

THE £1,000,000 BANK-NOTE. Cr. Bvo, cloth, Ss. 6d.; post 8vo, picture bds., 2s. 

MARKS (H. S., R.A.), PEN AND PENCIL SKETCHES BY. With^ 

Pho togravures and 126 Illustrations. Two Vols. , demy 8vo, cloth, 33s. 

MARLOWE'S WORKS. Including his Translations, Edited, with Notes 
and Introductions, by Col. Cunningham. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, Ha. 

MARRYAT (FLORENCE), NOVELS BY. Post 8vo,illust. boards, 38. each. 

A HARVEST OF WILD OATS. I FIGHTING THE AIR. 
OPEN! SES AME ! | WR ITT EN IN FIRE . 

MASSINGER'S PLAYS. From the Text of William Gifford. Edited 
by Col. Cunningham. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, <>s. 



\ 



CHATTO &. WINDUS, PUBLISHERS, PICCADILLY. 17 

MASTERMAN (J.). -HALF-A-DOZEN DAUGHTERS : A Novel. Post 

8vo, illustrated boards, ti». ^^^^ 

MATTHEWS (BRANDER).— A SECRET OF THE SEA, &c. Post 8vo, 

illustrated boards, Ss. ; cloth limp, iis. <mI. 

MAYHEW (HENRY).-LONDON CHARACTERS & THE HUMOROUS 

SID E OF LONDON L IFE. With Illustrations. Crown 8vo, clotb, :}». Oil. 

MEADE (L. T.), NOVELS BY. 

A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. Crown 8vo, cloth, 3s. Gd. 

IN AN IRON GRIP. Two Vols., crown 8vo, cloth, lOn. net. 

THE VOICE OF THE CHARMER. Three Vols., 15w. net. [Shortly. 

MERRICK (LEONARD).-THE MAN WHO WAS GOOD. Post 8vo, 

illustrated boarits, 3». 

MlXTCAN MUSTANG (ON A), through Texas to the Rio Grande. By 
A. E. Sweet and ]. Armoy Knox. With 2 65 Illusts. Cr. 8vo, cloth extra, 7a. fid, 

MIDDLEMASS (JEAN), NOVELS BY. Post 8vo. illust. boards, as. each. 
TOUCH AND GO. I MR. DORILLION. 



MILLER (MRS. F. FENWICK).— PHYSIOLOGY FOR THE YOUNG; 

or, The House of Life. With Illustrations. Post 8vo, cloth limp, ijs. 6d. 

MILT'ON (J. L. ),~WORKS~B Y. Post Svo, 1 s. each ; cloth, Is. «d. each. 
THE HYGIENE OP THE SKIN. With Directions for Diet, Soaps. Baths, &c. 
THE BATH IN DISEASES OP THE SKIN. 

THE LAWS OP LIFE, AND T HEIR REL ATION TO DISEASES OF THE SKIN. 
THE SUCCESSFUL TREATMENT OF LEPROSY. Demy Svo, la. 

MI NTO (WM.)-WAS SHE GOOD OR BAD ? Cr. Svo. Is. ; cloth, Is. 6d. 

MITFORD (BERTRAM), NOVELS BY. Crown Svo. cloth extra, Ss. ed. each. 
THE GUN-RUNNER: A Romance of Zululand. With Frontispiece by S. L.Wood. 
THE LUCK OF GERARD RIDGELEY. With a Frontispiece by St.^nley L. Wood. 
THE KING'S ASSEGAI. With Six full-page Illustrations by Stanley L. Wood. 
RE NSHAW FANNING'S QUEST. With a Frontispiece by Stanley. L. Wood. 

MOLESWORTH (MRS.), NOVELS BY. 

HATHERCOURT RECTORY. Post Svo, illustrated boards, 2». 
THAT GIRL IN BLACK. Crown Svo, cloth, Is. «»!. 

MOORE (THOMAS), WORKS BY. 

THE EPICUREAN; and ALCIPHRON. Post Svo, half-bound, 3«i. 
PROSE AND VERSE. With Suppressed Passages from the Memoirs of Lord 
BvRON. Edited by R. H. Shepherd. With Portrait. Cr. Svo, cl. ex., jfs. 6d. 

MUDDOCK (J. E.), STORIES BY. 

STORIES WEIRD AND WONDERFUL. Post Svo, illust. boards, Ss.; cloth, 38. 6d. 
THE DEAD MAN'S SECRET; or. The Valley of Gold. With Frontispiece by 

F. Barnard. Crown Svo, cloth extra, 5s. ; post Svo, illustrated boards, tSs. 
FROM THE BOSOM OF THE DEEP. Post Svo, illustrated boards, '-is. 
MAID MARIAN AND ROBIN HOOD: A Romance of Old Sherwood Forest. With 
12 Illu strations by Stanley L. Wood. Crown Svo, cloth extra, 3s. Hd. 

MURRAY (D. CHRISTIE), NOVELS BY. 

Crown Svo, cloth extra. 3s. 6d. each : post Svo. illustrated boards. Ss. each. 



A LIFE'S ATONEMENT. 
JOSEPH'S COAT. 
COALS OF FIRE. 
YAL STRANGE. 
HEARTS. 



THE WAY OF THE WORLD, 
A MODEL FATHER. 
OLD BLAZER'S HERO. 
CYNIC FORTUNE. 
BY THE GATE OP THE SEA. 



A BIT OF HUMAN NATURE. 
FIRST PERSON SINGULAR. 
BOB MARTIN'S Little GIRL. 
TIME'S REVENGES. 
A WASTED CRIME. 



Crown Svo, cloth extra, 3s. 6d. each. 
IN DIREST PERIL. 

MOUNT DESPAIR, &c. With Frontispiece by G. Grenville Manton. 
THE MAKING OF A NOVELIST : An Experiment in Autobiography. With a 
. Collotype Portrait and Vignette. Crown Svo, art linen, 63. 

MURRAY (D. CHRISTIE) & HENRY HERMAN, WORKS BY. 

Crown Svo, cloth extra, ;t«. 6d. each ; post Svo, illustrated boards, 3s. each 
O NE TRA VELLER RETURNS . | PAUL JONES'S A LIAS. | THE BISHOPS' BIBLE. 

MURRAY (HENRY), NOVELS BY. Postsvo, inust.bds.,3s.ea.;ci, 3s.Sd.ea 

A GAME OF BLUFF. | A SONG OF SIXPENCE, 



i8 



CHATTO 8c WINDUS, PUBLISHERS, PICCADILLY. 



JJEWBOLT (HENRY).— TAKEN FROM THE ENEMY. Fcap. 8vo. 

cloth boards. 1». Cd. 

NISBET (HUME), BOOKS BY. 

"BAIL UP!" Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 38. 6d. ; post 8vo, illustrated boards, 3s, 
DR. BERNARD ST. VINCENT. Post 8vo, illustrated boards, 38. 
LESSONS IN ART. With 21 Illustrations. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 38. 6d. 
WHERE ART BEGINS. Wit h 27 Illustrations. Square 8vo, cloth extra, 7».<>d. 

NORRI MWrEj :^ STrANN'S ; A Novel. CrowiTSvo, cloth. 3s. 657 

n'HANLON (ALICE), NOVELS BY. Post Svo, illustrated boards, as. each. 
^ TH E UN FORESEEN. | CHANCE? OR FATE? 

OHNET (GEORGES), NOVELS BY. Post 8vo, illustrated boards, 38. each. 
DOCTOR RAMEAU. | A LAST LOVE. 
A WEIRD GIFT. Crown 8vo. clotb, :i». 6d. . post 8vo, picture boards. 38. 

OLIPHANT (MRS.), NOVELS BY. Post Svo, illustrated boards, 38. each. 
THE PRIMROSE PATH. | WHITELADIES. 
THE GREATEST HEIRESS IN ENGLAND. ____^_^___ 

O'REILLY (HARRINGTON).— LIFE AMONG THE AMERICAN IN- 
DIANS: Fifty Yearson the Trail, loo lUusts. bv p. Frenzf.ny. Crown Svo. 38. tf d. 



O'REILLY (MRS.).-PH(EBE'S FORTUNES. Post 8vo, illust. bds..2s. 



OUIDA, NOVELS BY. 

HELD IN BONDAGE. 

TRICOTRIN. 

STRATHMORE. 

CHANDOS. 

CECIL CASTLEMAIHE. 

UNDER TWO FLAGS. 

PUCK. I IDALIA. 



Cr. 8to, cl., 38. Od. each ; post Svo. illust. bds., 3a. each, 



FOLLE-FARINE 

A DOG OF FLANDERS. 

PASCAREL. 1 SIGNA. 

TWO WOODEN SHOES. 

IN A WINTER CITY. 

ARIADNE. 

FRIENDSHIP. 



MOTHS. I PIPISTRELLO. 
A VILLAGE COMMUNE. 
IN MAREMMA. | WANDA. 
BIMBI. I SYRLIN. 

FRESCOES. I OTHMAR. 
PRINCESS NAPRAXINE. 
GUILDEROY. | RUFflNO. 



Square 8vo, cloth extra, 5s. each. 
BIMBI. With Nine Illustrations by Edmund H. Garrett. 
A DOG OF FLANDERS, & c. With Six Illustratio ns by Edmund H. Garrett. 
SANTA BARBARA. &c. Square Svo, cloth, <>s. ; crown Svo, cloth, 3s. <id. ; post 

8vo, illustrated boards, 3s. 
TWO OFFENDERS. Square Svo, cl oth extra, 6*. ; crown Svo, cloth extra, 3s. 6d. 
WISDOM, WIT, AND PATHOS, selected from the Works of Ouida by F. Sydney 
Morris. Post Svo, cloth extra, 5». Cheap Edition, illustrated boards, 3». 



pAGiE (H. A.), WORKS BY. 

■*■ THOREAU : His Life and Aims. With Portrait. Post Svo, cloth limp, 3s. 6d. 

ANIMAL ANECDOTES. Arr anged on a New Principle. Crown Svo, cloth extra, 5». 

PAYN (JAMES), NOVELS BY. 

Crown Svo, cloth extra. ;j». 6d. each; 
LOST SIR MASSINGBERD. 
WALTER'S WORD. FED. 

LESS BLACK THAN WE'RE PAINT- 
BY PROXY. I FOR CASH ONLY. 
HIGH SPIRITS. 
UNDER ONE ROOF. 
A CONFIDENTIAL AGENT. 
A GRAPE FROM A THORN. 



post Svo, illustrated boards. 3*. each. 
FROM EXILE. | HOLIDAY TASKS. 
THE CANON'S WARD. 
THE TALK OF THE TOWN. 
GLOW-WORM TALES. 
THE MYSTERY OF MIRBRIDGE. 
THE WORD AND THE WILL. 
THE BURNT MILLION. 
SUNNY STORIES. | A TRYING PATIEITT. 



HUMOROUS STORIES. 

THE FOSTER BROTHERS. 

THE FAMILY SCAPEGRACE, 

MARRIED BENEATH HIM. 

BENTINCK'S TUTOR. 

A PERFECT TREASURE. 

A COUNTY FAMILY. 

LIKE FATHER, LIKE SON. 

A WOMAN'S VENGEANCE. 

CARLYON'S YEAR. CECIL'S TRYST. 

MURPHY'S MASTER. 

AT HER MERCY. 

THE CLYFFARDS OF CLYFFB. 



Post Svo, illustrated boards, 38. each. 



FOUND DEAD. 

GWENDOLINE'S HARVEST. 

A MARINE RESIDENCE. 

MIRK ABBEY. 

SOME PRIVATE VIEWS. 

NOT WOOED, BUT WON. 

TWO HUNDRED POUNDS REWARD. 

THE BEST OF HUSBANDS. 

HALVES. 

FALLEN FORTUNES. 

WHAT HE COST HER. 

KIT: A MEMORY. 

A PRINCE OF THE BLOOD. 

With 17 Illus- 



IN PERIL AND PRIVATION: Stories of Marine Adventure, 

tnt'ons. Crown Hvo, cloth extra, lis. Od. 
NOTES FROM THE »'NEWS." Crown Svo, portrait cover, Is.; clotb, Is. 6d, 



CHATTO & WINDUS, PUBLISHERS, PICCADILLY. ig 

PANDURANG HARI ; or, Memoirs of a Hindoo, With Preface by Sir 
Bartlk Krere. Crown 8vo, cloth, S{«. 6«l. ; post 8vo, illustrated boards, iis. 

PASCAL'S PROVmCIA lTeTT'ERS. A Ne'^v^TranslaTi^wit'h His- 

torical Introduction and Notes by T. M'Crie, D.D. Post 8vo, clotli limp, iis. 

PAUITcMARGARET a.).— gentle and simple. With Frontis- 

piece by Helen Paterson. Crown 8vo, cloth, its. Oil. ; post iivo, illust. boards. '■£», 

PENNELL(H. CHOLMONDELEY), WORKS BYrPost8vo,ci./i*y«d.each. 

PUCK ON PEGASU8. With Illustrations. 

PEGASUS RE-SADDLED. With Ten full-page Illustrations by G. Du Maurier. 

THE MUSES OF MAYFAIR. Vers de Socii^te, Selected by H. C. Pennell. 

PHELPS (E. STUART), WORKS BY. Post 8vo Is.each; cloth l*..««l.each. 
BEYOND THE GATES. | OLD MAID'S PARjLDjSE. | BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
JACK THE FISHERMAN . I llustrated by C. W. Reed. Cr. 8vo. la. ; cloth, Aa. Oa . 

PIRKIS (C. L.), NOVELS BY. 

TROOPING WITH CROWS. Fcap. 8vo, picture cover, Is. 
LAD Y LOV ELACE . Pos t 8 vo. illus trated boards, t4». 

PLANCHE (J. R.'), WORKS BY~ ~~ 

THE PURSUIVANT OF ARMS. With Six Plates, and 2og II, asts. Cr.Bvo.cl. r»<. <5a. 
SONGS AND POEMS, 1819-1879. Introduction by Mrs. Mackarness. Cr. 8vo, cl.,<»>«. 

PLUTARCH'S LIVES OF ILLUSTRIOUS MEN. With Notes and Life 

of Plutarch by J. and W m. L anghorne. Portraits. Two Vols., demy Svo, His. 6«1. 

POE'S (EDGARTLLANyCHOICEWORKS, in Prose and Poetry. Intro- 
duction by Chas. Baudelaire, Portrait, and Facsimiles. Cr. 8vo, cloth, 7a, till. 
THE MYSTERY OF MAR I E ROGET, &c. Post Svo. illustrated boards, 38. 

POPE'S POETICAL WORKS. Post Svo, cloth limp, 2s. 

PRAED (MRS. CAMPBELL), NOVELS BY. Post svo, iiiust. bds., 2*.. ea. 

THE ROMANCE OF A STAT ION. | THE SOUL OF COUNTESS ADRIAN. 
OUTLAW AND LAWMAKER. Crown 8vo, cloth, 3s. 6d. ; post Svo, boards, tis. 
CH RISTINA CHARD . Crown S ^^ o, cloth extra, 3». Gd. 

PRICE (E. C), NOVELS BY: 

Crown Svo, cloth extra, :{». <»«!. each ; post Svo, illustrated boards, 2s. each. 
VALENTINA. | THE FOREIGNE RS. | M RS. LANCASTER'S RIVAL. 

GERALD. Post Svo, illustrated boards, Ss. 



PRINCESS OLGA.— R ADNA : A Novel. Crown 8vo. doth extra, 6s. 

PROCTOR (RICHARD A., B.A.), WORKS BY. 

FLOWERS OF THE SKY. With 55 Illusts. Small crown Svo, cloth extra, «.«. «d. 
EASY STAR LESSONS. With Star Maps for Every Night in the Year. Cr. Svo, ««. 
FAMILIAR SCIENCE STUDIES. Crown Svo, cloth extra ««. 
SATURN AND ITS SYSTEM. With 13 Steel Plates. Demy Svo, cloth ex., IO9. «d. 
MYSTERIES OF TIME AND SPACE. With Illustrations. Cr. Svo, cloth extra, tin. 
THE UNIVERSE OF SUNS. With numerous Illustrations. Cr. Svo, cloth ex.. «s. 
W AG ES AND W ANTS OF SCIENCE W ORKERS. Crown Sv o, la. Cd. 

PRYCE (RICHARD).-MISS MAXWELL'S AFFECTIONS. Frontis- 

p ie ce by Hal Ludlow. C ro wn Svo, cloth, 3». 6d. ; post Svo, illust. boards., 2«. 

PAMBOSSON (J.). — POPULAR ASTRONOMY^ With Coloured 

Plate and numerous Illustrations. Crown Svo, cloth extra, 78. Oil. 

RANDOLPirTLIEUTTCOL. GEORGE, U.S.X):=AUNT ABIGAIL 

DYKES: A Novel. Crown Svo. cloth e xtra, r«. «d. 

RIDDELL (MRS. J. H.), NOVELSIBY: 

WEIRD STORIES. Crown 8vo, c[oth_extra^ 3h. 6d.; post Svo, illustrated bds., 3». 

Post 8vo, illustrated boards, 38. each. 
THE UNINHABITED HOUSE. I FAIRY WATER. 

THEPRINCEOF WALES'S GARDEN I HER MOTHER'S DARLING. 

PARTY. THE NUN'S CURSE. 

MYSTERY IN PALACE GARDENS. IDLE TALES. 



RIVES (AMELIE).— BARBARA DERING : A Sequel to." The Quick or 
the Dead ? ' Crown Svo, cloth extra, 3h, tid. ; post Svo, illustrated boards, 3s. 



20 CHATTO & WINDUS, PUBLISHERS, PICCADILLY. 

READE (CHARLES), NOVELS BY. 

Crown hvo. cloth extia, illustrated, 3». 6d. each ; post 8vo, illust. bds., Ss. each. 
PEG WOFFINGTON. Illustrated by S. L. Fildes, R.A.— Also a Pocket Edition, 

set in New Type, in Elzevir style, fcap. 8vo, half-leather, iis. Cd. — And a Cheap 

Popular Edition of Peg Woffington and Christie Johnstone, the two 

Stories in One Volume, medium 8vo. 6<l. ; cloth, Is. 
CHRISTIE JOHNSTONE. Illustrated by William Small.— Also aPocKEX Edition, 

set in New Type, in Elzevir style, fcap. 8vo, half-leather, 3s. Cd. 
IT IS NEVER TOO LATE TO MEND. Illustrated by G. J. Pinwell.— Also the Cheap 

Popular Edition, medium 8vo, portrait cover. Hd. ; cloth, 1«. 
COURSE OF TRUE LOVE NEVER DID RUN SMOOTH. Illust Helen Paterson. 
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A THIEF, &c. Illustrated by Matt Stretch. 
LOVE ME LITTLE, LOVE ME LONG. Illustrated by M. Ellen Edwards. 
THE DOUBLE MARRIAGE. lUusts. by Sir John Gilbert, R.A., and C. Keene. 
THE CLOISTER AND THE HEARTH. Illustrated by Charles Keene.— Also the 

Elzevir Edition, with an Introduction by Walter Besant, 4 vols., post 8vo, 

each with Frontispiece, cloth extra, gilt top, 14s. the set; and the Cheap 

Popular Edition, medium 8vo, (id. ; cloth. Is. 
HARD CASH. Illustrated by F. W. Lawson. 

GRIFFITH GAUNT. Illustrated by S. L. Fildes, R.A., and William Small. 
FOUL PLAY. Illustrated by George Du Maurier. 
PUT YOURSELF IN HIS PLACE. Illustrated by Pobert Barnes. 
A TERRIBLE TEMPTATION. Illustrated by Edwaro Hughes and A. W. Cooper. 
A SIMPLETON. Illustrated by Kate Craufurd. 

THE WANDERING HEIR. Illust, by H. Paterson, S. L. Fildes, C. Green, &c. 
A WOMAN-HATER. Illustrated by Thomas Coulderv. 
SINGLEHEART AND DOUBLEFACE. Illustrated by P. Macnab, 
GOOD STORIES OF MEN AND OTHER ANIMALS. Illust. by E. A. Abbsy, &c. 
THE JILT, and other Stories. Illustrated by Joseph Nash. 
A PERILOUS SECRET. Illustrated by Fred. Barnard. 
READIANA. With a Steel-pl ate P ort rait of Charles Reade. 
BIBLE CHARACTERS: Studies of'David7Pau l,"&c. Fcap. 8vo, leatherette. Is. 
SELECTIONS FROM THE WORKS OF CHARLES READE. Crown 8vo, with Por- 
trait, buckram, tts. ; post 8vo, cloth limp, ija. ««l. 



RIMMER (ALFRED), WORKS BY. Square 8vo, cloth gilt, Ts.ttd. each. 

OUR OLD COUNTRY TOWNS. With 55 Illustrations. 

RAMBLES ROUND ETON AND HARROW. With 50 Illustrations. 
AB OUT ENGLAND WITH DICKENS. With 58 Illusts. by C. A. Vanderhoof, &c. 

ROBINSON CRUSOE. By Daniel Defoe. (Major's Edition.) With 
37 Illustr ations by George Cruik shank. Post Svo , half-bound, 2s. 

ROBINSON (F. W.), NOVELS BY. 

WOMEN ARE STRANGE. Post Svo, illustrated boards, in. 
THEJIANj)S^FJUSTICE . Cr. 8vo, cloth ex., 3s. 6d. . post Svo. illust. bds., 8s. 

ROBINSON (PHIL), WORKS BY. Crown Svo, cloth extra, Cs. each. 
THE POETS' BIRDS. | THE POETS' BEASTS. 
THE POETS AND NATURE: REPTILES, FISH ES, AND INSECTS. 

ROCHEFOUCAULD'S MAXIMS AND MORAL REFLECTIONS. With 

Notes, and an Introductory Essay by Sainte-Beuve. Post Svo , cloth liuip, 8s. _ 

ROLL OF BATTLE ABBEY, THE : A List of the Principal Warriors 

who came from Normandy with William the Conq ueror. Handsomely printed. 5«. 

ROSENGARTEN (A.).— HANDBOOK OF ARCHITECTURAL STYLES. 

Transl a ted by W. Col l ett-Sandars. With 6 39 Illusts. Cr. Svo, cloth extra , ?». 6«t. 

ROWLEY (HON. HUGH), WORKS BY. Post 8vo, cloth, 8s. 6d. each. 
PUNIANA: RIDDLES AND JOKES. With numerous Illustrations. 
MORE PUNIANA. Profusely Illustrated. 



RUSSELL (W. CLARK), BOOKS AND NOVELS BY : 

Cr. Svo, cloth extra, 6». each; post Svo, illust. boards, 88. each- cloth limp, 2s. 6d. ea. 

ROUND THE GALLEY-FIRE. I A BOOK FOR THE HAMMOCK. 

IN THE MIDDLE WATCH. MYSTERY OF THE "OCEAN STAR." 

A VOYAGE TO THE CAP E. I THE ROM ANCE OF JENNY HARLOWB. 

Cr. Svo, cl. extra, ti<*. 6d. ea. ; post Svo, illust. boards, 8s. ea. ; cloth limp, 8s. tid. ea. 

AN OCEAN TRAGEDY. | MY SHIPMATE LOUISE. 

ALONE ON A WIDE WIDE SEA. 

ON THE FO'K'SLE HEAD. Post Svo, illust. boards, 8s. ; cloth limp, 3s. 6d. 

THE GOOD SHIP "MOHOCK." Two Vols., crown Svo, cloth, lOs. net. 

THE PHANTOM DEATH, &c. With Frontispiece. Crown Svo, 3». «d, 

THE CONVICT SHIP. Three Vols., crown Svo, 15s. net. iShorlly. 



CHATTO & WINDUS, PUBLISHERS, PiCCADiLLY. 21 



RUNCIMAN (JAMES), STORIES BY. I^°st Svo, bds., tin. ea. ; cl., 3s. C.l. ea. 
SKIPPERS AND SHELLBACKS. I GRACE BALMAIGN'S SWEETHEART. 
SCHOOLS A ND SCHO LARS. j 

RUSSELL (DORA), NOVELS BY. 

A COUNTRY SWEETHEART. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 3s. 6d. [Sept. 
THE DRIF T OF FATE. Three Vols., crown 8vo, ISw. net. 

OAINTTuBYN (ALAN), NOVELS BY. 

""^ Crown avo, cloth extra, 3s. OtI. each; post 8vo, illust. boards, 2s. each. 

A FELLOW OF TRINITY. Note bv Oliver Wendell Holmes and Frontispiece. 
THE JUNIOR DEAN. | MA STER OF ST. BENED ICT'S. | TO HIS OWN MASTER. 

Fcap. 8vo, cloth boards, Is. 0<I. each. 
THE OLD MAID'S SWEE THEART. | MOD EST LITTLE SARA. 

Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 3s. <id. each. 
ORCHARD DAMEREL. | IN THE FAC E OF THE WORLD. IShortly. 
THE TREMLETT DIAMONDS. Two Vols., IPs, net. [Shortly. 

SALA (G. A.).-GASLIGHT AND DAYLIGHT. Post 8vo, boards, 2s. 
SANSON.-SEVEN GENERATIONS OF EXECUTIONERS : Memoirs 

of the Sanson Family (1688 to 1847). Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 3s. tid. 

SAUNDERS (JOHJOTnOVELS BY. 

Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 38. 6d. each ; post 8vo, illustrated boards, 3s. each, 
GUY WATERMAN. | TH E LION IN THE PA TH. | THE TWO DREAMERS. 
BOUND TO THE WHEEL. Crown 8vo, cloth e x tra, 3.1. 6d. 

SAUNDERS (KATHARINE), NOVELS BY. 

Crown 8vo, cloth extra. 3«. <»d. each; post 8vo. ilhistrated boards, Ss. each. 
MARGARET AND ELIZABETH. I HEART SALVAGE. 

THE HIGH MILLS. | SEBASTIAN. 

JOAN MERRYWEATHER. Post 8vo, illustrated boards, Ss. 
GI DEON'S ROCK. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 38. 6d. _____^____ 

SCOTLAND YARD, Past and Present : Experiences of 37 Years. By 
Ex-Chief-Inspector C.wanagh. Post 8vo, illustrated boards, 3s. ; cloth, 3s. 6d. 

SECRET OUT, THE : One Thousand Tricks with Cards; with Enter- 
taining Experiments in Drawing-room or "White Magic." By W. H. Cremer. 
With 300 Illustrations. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 4s. Btl. 

SEGUIN (L. G.), WORKS BY. 

THE COUNTRY OF THE PASSION PLAY (OBERAMMERGAU) and the Highlands 

of Bavaria. With Map and 37 Illustrations. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 3s. 6c!. 
WALKS IN ALGIERS. With 2 Maps and 16 lUusts. Crown 8vo. cloth extra, Os. 

SENIOR (WM.).— BY STREAM AND SEA. Post 8vo, cloth, 2s. 6d. 
SERGE ANT (A.).— DR. E NDICOT T'S E XPE RIMENT. 2 vols., 10s. ne t. 
SHAKESPEARE FOR CHILDREN ; LAMB'S TALES FROM SHAKE- 

SPEARE. With Illusts., coloured and plain, by J. Moyr Smith. Cr. 4to, 3s. Cd. 

SHARP (WILLIAM). —CHILDREN OF TO-MORROW: A Novel. 

Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 6s. 

SHELLEY (PERCY BYSSHE), THE COMPLETE WORKS IN VERSE 

AND PROSE OF. Edited. Prefaced, and Annotated by R, Herne Shepherd. 
Five Vols., crown 8vo, cloth boards, 38. 6d. each. 
POETICAL WORKS, in Three Vols,: 
Vol. I. Introduction by the Editor; Posthumous Fragments of Margaret Nicholson; Shelley's Corre- 
spondence with Stockdale; The Wandering Jew; Queen Mab, with the Notes; Alastor, 
and other Poems ; Rosalind and Helen : Prometheus Unbound ; Adonais, &c. 
Vol. II. Laon and Cythna ; The Cenci; Julian and Maddalo ; Swellfoot the Tyrant; The Witch oi 

Atlas; Epipsychidion: Hellas. 
Vol. III. Posthumous Poems ; The Masque of Anarchy ; and other Pieces. 
PROSE WORKS, in Two Vols. : 
Vol. I. The Two Romances of Zastrozzi and St. Irvyne ; the Dublin and Marlow Pamphlets ; A Refuta- 
tion of Deism ; Lettersto Leigh Hunt, and some Minor Writing:s and Fragments. 
VoL II. The Essays ; Letters from Abroad ; Translations and Fragments, Edited by Mrs. SHELLEY. 
With a BibUograph y of Shelley, and an Index of the Prose Works. 

SHERARD (R. R.).— ROG UES : A Novel. Crown 8vo, i s. ; cloth. Is. 6d. 

SHERIDAN (GENERAL P. H.), PERSONAL MEMOIRS OF. With 

Portraits and Facsimiles. Two Vols., demy 8vo, cloth, 348. 



22 CHATTO & WINDUS, PUBLISHERS, PICCADILLY. 

SHERIDAN'S (RICHARD BRINSLEY) COMPLETE WORKS. With 

Life and Anecdotes. Including his Dramatic Writings, his Woriis in Prose and 

Poetry, Translations, Speeches and Jokes. lo lUusts. Cr.Svo, hf.-bound 7s. 6ti. 

THE RIVALS, THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL, and other Plays. Post 8vo, printed 

on laid paper and half-bound, Us. 
SHERIDAN'S COMEDIES: THE RIVALS and THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL. 
Edited, with an Introduction and Notes to each Play, and a Biographical Sketch, by 
Brander Matthews. With Illustrations. Demy 8vo, half-p archment, ISs. 6d. 

SIDNEY'S (SIR PHILIP) COMPLETE POETICAL WORKS, includ- 

ing all those in "Arcadia." With Portrait, Memorial-Introduction, Notes, &c. by the 
Rev. A. B. Grosart, D.D. Tliree Vols., crown 8vo, cloth boards, 18s. 

SIGNBOARDS : Their History. With Anecdotes of Famous Taverns 
and Remarkable Characters. By Jacob Larwood and John Camden Hotten. 
With Coloured Frontispiece a nd 94 Illustrations. Crown 8 vo, cloth extra, 7a. 6d. 

SIMS (GEO. R.), WORKS BY. PostSvo, illust. bds.,i4s.ea; cl.limp.as.Od.ea. 



ROGUES AND VAGABONDS. 
THE RING 0' BELLS. 
MARY JANE'S MEMOIRS. 
MARY JANE MARRIED. 
TINKLETOP'S CRIME. 
ZEPH: A Circus Story, &c. 



TALES OF TO-DAY. 

DRAMAS OF LIFE. With 60 Illustrations. 

MEMOIRS OF A LANDLADY. 

MV TWO WIVES. 

SCENES FROM THE SHOW. 



Crown 8vo, picture cover. Is. each ; cloth. Is. CiI. each. 
HOW THE POOR LIVE; and HORRIBLE LONDON. 
THE DAGONET RECITER AND READER: being Readings and Recitations in 

Prose and Veri^e, selected from his own Works bv George R. Sims. 
THE CASE OF GEORGE CANDLEMAS. | DAG ONET DITTIES. 
DAGONET ABROAD. Crown »vo, c oth, 3». Od. [ShorHy, 

SISTER DORA : A Biography. By Margaret Lonsdale. With Four 
Illustrations. Demy Svo, picture cover, 4d.; cloth, (id. 

SKETCHLEY (ARTHUR). —A MATCH IN THE DARK. Post 8vo, 

illustrated boards, lis. 

SLANG DICTIONARY (THE) : Etymological, Historical, and Anec- 
dotal. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, *>». tid. 

SMITH (J. M0YR)rW0RKS~3Y: 

THE PRINCE OF ARGOLIS. With 130 Illusts. Post Svo, cloth extra. 3s. 6d. 
THE WOOING OF THE WATER WITCH. Illustrated. Post Svo. cloth, 6a. 

SOCIE TY I N LO NDON. Crown Svo, Is. ; cloth. Is. 6d. 

SOCIETY IN PARIS: The Upper Ten Thousand. A Series of Letters 
from Count Paul Vasili to a Young French Diplomat. Crown Svo. cloth. Gs. 

SOMERSET (LORD HENRY)7^^S0NGS OF ADIEU. Small 4to, 

Japanese vellum, 6s. 

SPALDING (T. A., LL.B.).— ELIZABETHAN DEMONOLOGY : An 

Es'ay on the Belief in the Existence o t Devils. Crown Svo, cloth extra, Ss. 

SPEIGHT (T. WOrT^OVELS~BY. 

Post Kvo, illustrated boards, 38. each. 
THE MYSTERIES OF HERON DYKE. I THE GOLDEN HOOP. 
BY DEVIOUS WAYS, &c. | BACK TO LIFE. 

HOODWINKED; and THE SANDY- I THE LOUDWATER TRAGEDY. 
CROFT MYSTERY. I BURGO'S ROMANCE. 

QUITTANCE IN FU LL. 

Post 8vo, cloth limp. Is. 6d. each. 

A BARREN TITLE. ^| WIFE OR NO WIFE? 

THE SANDYCROFT MYSTERY. Crown Svo, picture cover. Is. 
A SECRET OF THE SEA. Crown Svo, cloth extra, 3s. 6d. 
THE GREY MONK. Three Vols., l.'is. net. 



SPENSER FOR CHILDREN. By M. H. Towry. With Illustrations 

by Walter J. Morgan. Crown 4to, cloth extra, Ss. 6d. 

STARRY HEAVENS~(THE) : A Poetical Birthday Book. Royal 

i6mo, cloth extra, Us, 6A. 

STEDMAN (E. C), WORK* BY. Crown Svo, cloth extra, 9s. each. 
VICTORIAN POETS. | THE POETS OF AMERICA. 



CHATTO & WINDUS, PUBLISHERS, PICCADILLY. 23 



STFIRNDALE (R. ARMITAGE).— THE AFGHAN KNIFE : A Novel. 

Crown 8vo, cloth extra. .'{ ». fid.: p ost 8vo, illustrated boards. '-i«. 

STEVENSONTR. LOUIS), WORKS BY. Post Svo.cl. limp, a«.6d. each 

TRAVELS WITH A DONKEY. Witli a Frontispiece by Walter Crane. 

AN INLAND VOYAGE. Wi th a Fron tispiece by W alter Crank. 
Crown 8vo, buckram, gilt top, Cs. each, 

FAMILIAR STUDIES OF MEN AND BOOKS. 

THK SILVERADO SQUATTERS. With Frontisniece by J. D. Strono. 

THE MERRY MEN. | UNDERWOODS: Poems. 

MEMORIES AND PORTRAITS. 

VIRGINIBUS PUERISQUE, and other Papers. | BALLADS. | PRINCE OTTO. 

ACROSS THE PLAINS, with other Memories and Essays. 

NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS. "Crown 8vo, buckramTgiU top, 69.; post 8vo, illustrated 
boards, 'ia. 

THE SUICIDE CLUB; and THE BAJAH'S DIAMOND. (From New Arabian 
Nights.) With 8 Illustrations by W. J. Hknmessy. Crown 8vo, cloth, 5«. 

FATHER DAMIEN: An Open Letter to the Rev. Dr. Hyde. Crown 8vo, hand- 
made and brown paper, i». 

THE EDINBURGH EDITION OF THE WORKS OP ROBERT LOUIS STEVEN- 
SON. 20 Vols., demy Svo. This Edition (which is limited to 1,000 copies) is sold 
only in Sets, the price of which may be learned from the Booksellers. The 
Vol s, are appearing at the rate of one a month, br;ginning Nov. 1894. 

STODDARD (C. WARREN).-SUMMER CRUISING IN THE SOUTH 

SEAS. Illustrated by Wallis Mackay. Crown Svo, cloth extra, iia, fid. 

STORIES FROM FOREIGN NOVELISTS. With Notices by Helen and 

Alice ZiMMERN. Crown Svo, cloth extra, Jin. fid,; post Svo, illustrated boards, i$8. 

STRANGE MANUSCRIPT (A) FOUND IN A COPPER CYLINDER.^ 

Cr. Svo, cloth extra, with 19 Illusts. by Gilbert Gaul, 5». ; post Svo, illust. bds., iim. 

STRANGE SECRETS. Told by Conan Doyle. Percy Fitzgerald, Flor- 
ence Marryat, &c. Post Svo, illustrated boards, 28, 

STRUTT (JOSEPH):^TlIE~SPORTS AND PASTIMES OF THE 

PEOPLE OP ENGLAND; including the Rural and Domestic Recreations, May 
Games, Mummeries, Shows, &c., from the Earliest Period to the Present Time. 
Edited by William Hone. With 140 Illustrations. Crown Svo, cloth extra, Ts. fid. 

SWIFT'S (DEAN) CHOICE WORKS, in Prose and Verse. With Memoir, 

Portrait, and Facsimiles of the Maps in" Gulliver's Travels,*' Cr. Svo, cl., 7«. fid. 

GULLIVER'S TRAVELS, and A TALE OF A TUB. Post Svo, half-bound, in. 

JONATHAN SWI FT; A Stud y. By J. Chuk ton Collins. Crown Svo, cloth extra, Sa. 

SWINBURNE (ALGERNON C), WORKS BY. 

SELECTIONS FROM POETICAL WORKS OP A. C. I A NOTE ON CHARLOTTE BRONTE. Cr. Svo, 6s. 
SWINB0RNE. Fcap. ?vo. 6s. SONGS OF THE SPRINGTIDES. Cro^vn Svo, 6b. 



ATALANTA IN CALYDON. Crown Svo. G«. 

CHASTELARD : A Tragedy. Crown Svo, 7s. 

POEMS AND BALLADS. FIRST SERIES. Crown 
Svo or fcap. Svo, 9s. 

POEMS AND BALLADS. SECOND SERIES. 
Crown Svo or fcap. Svo, 9s. 

POEMS & BALLADS. THIRD SERIES. Cr. Svo, 7s. 

SONGS BEFORE SUNRISE. Crown Svo, 10s. 6d. 

BOTHWEIL : A Tragedy. Crown Svo, 123. 6d. 

SONGS OF TWO NATIONS. Crown Svo, 63. 

GEORGE CHAPMAN. (J>V<r Vol. 11. of G. CHAP- 
MAN s Works.) Crown Svo. 6s. 

ESSAYS AND STUDIES. Crown Svo, 12». 

ERECHTHEUS: A Tragedy. Crown Svo, 6j. 



STUDIES IN SONG. Crown Svo. 7s. 
MARY STUART: A Tragedy. Crown Svo, 8». 
TRISTRAM OF LYONESSE. Crown Svo, 9s. 
A CENTURY OF ROUNDELS. Small 410, 8s. 
A MIDSUMMER HOLIDAY. Crown Svo, 7s. 
MARINO FALIERO: A Tragedy. Crown Svo, 6». 
A STUDY OF VICTOR HUGO. Crown Svo. 6?. 
MtSCELLANIES. Crown Svo, 125. 
LOCRINE : A Trajjedv. Crown Svo, 6». 
A STUDY OF BEN JONSON. Crown Svo, 7s. 
THR SISTERS: A Trag-edy. Crown Svo, 6s. 
ASTROPHEL, &c. Crown Svo. 7s. 
STUDIES IN PROSE AND POETRY. Crown Svo, 
9s. 



SYNTAX'S (DR.) THREE TOURS : In Search of the Picturesque, in 
Search of Consolation, and in Search of a Wife. With Rowlandson's Coloured Illus- 
trations, and Lite of the Author by J . C. Hotten. Crown Svo, cloth extra, 78. fid. 

fAINE'S~HISTmY~0F^ENGLrSir"OTERATURE. Translated by 

Henry Van Laun. Four Vols., small demy Svo, cl. bds., 3©s. — Popular Edition, 
Two Vols., large crown Svo, cloth extra, 1 5«. 

TAYLOR (DR. J. ETrF.L.S.), WORKS^Y. Crown Svo.cloth, 58. each. 
THE SAGACITY AND MORALITY OF PLANTS: A Sketch of the Life and Conduct 
of the Vegetable Kingdom. With a Coloured Frontispiece and 100 Illustrations. 
OUR COMMON BRITISH FOSSILS, and Where to Find Them. 331 lUustratioos. 
IBS PLAYTIME NATURALIST. With 366 Illustrations. 



TAYLOR (BAYARD).-DIVERSIONS OF THE ECHO CLUB : Bur- 

lesques of Modern Writers. Post 8vo, clot h limp, t£a. 

TAYLOR (TOM). -HISTORICAL DRAMAS. Containing " Clancarty." 

Jeanne Dare," '"Twixt Axe and Crown," "The Fool's Revenge," " Arkwright's 
Wife," "Anne Boleyn," " Plot and Passion." Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 7s. 6«1. 
*♦* The Plays may also be had separately, at la. each. 

TENNYSON (LORD): A Biographical Sketch! By H. T- Jennings 

Post 8vo, portrait cover, Is. ; cloth. Is. Cd. 

THACKERAYANA : Notes and Anecdotes. Illustrated by Hundreds of 
Sketches by William Makepeace Thackeray. Crown 8vo, cloth extr a 7s. 6d 

THAMES, A NEW PICTORIAL HISTORY OF THE. By A S 

Krausse. With 340 Illustrations Post 8vo, la. ; cloth, Js. «jd. 

'^^^FA^^'^^OLPHE). -HISTORY of the CONSULATE & EMPIRE of 

FRANCE UNDER NAPOLEON. Translated by D. Forbes Campbell and John 
Stebbing. With 36 Steel Flatee. 12 vols., demy 8vo, cloth extra 12s each 

THOMAS (BERTHA), NOVELS BY. Cr.Svo, cl., .3s. 6d. ea.'- post 8vo a>. ea 

THE YIOUN-PLAYER. | P ROUD MAISIE. ' 

CRESSIDA. Post 8vo, illustrated boards, Ss. 



THOMSON'S SEASONS, and CASTLE OF INDOLENCE. With Intro. 

auction by Allan Cunningham, and 48 Illu strations. Post 8vo half-bound a«. 

THORNBURY (WALTER), WORKS BYT"" ~^ 

THE LIFE AND CORRESPONDENCE OP J. M. W. TURNER. With Illustra- 
tions in Colours. Crow n 8vo, cloth extra, 7 a. 6d. 

rtTr> <,rrr,T>T^^ ^^ Post 8vo, illustrated boards, !i«. each. 

OLD^qRIE^^-TOLD.^__|TALES FOR THE MARINES. 
TIMBS (JOHN), WORKSHBY: Crown 8vo, cloth extra. 7s. 0.rel^ 

THE HISTORY OF CLUBS AND CLUB LIFE IN LONDON: Anecdotes of its 
famous Coffee-houses, Hostelries, and Taverns. With 42 Illustrations 

ENGLISH ECCENTRICS AND ECCENTRICITIES: Stories of Delusions, Impos- 
tures. Sporting Scenes, Eccentric Arti sts, Theatri cal Folk, &c. 48 Illustrations 

TROLLOPE (ANTHONY), NOVELS^IYT ~~ ' 

»,S^°^." ^^°' '^'°''^ ®'""' •'**• *••• each ; post 8vo, illustrated boards, 2s. each. 
THE WAY WE LIVE NOW. I MR. SCARBOROUGH'S FAMfLY. 

FRAU FROHMANN. | THE LAN D-LEAGUERS. 

Post SvQ, illustrated boards, ^s. each. 
KEPT IN THE DARK. 1 THE AMERICAN SENATOR. 

'^H E GOLDEN LION OF GRANPERE. | JOHN CALDIG ATE. | MARION FAY 

TROLLOPE (FRANCES E.), NOVELS BY: ' ■* 

Crown 8vo, cloth extra, ^s. «d. each: post 8vo. illustrated boards 28. each 
LIKE SHIPS UPON THE S EA. | M ABEL'S PROGRESS. | ANNE FURNESS 

TROLLOPE (T. A.).-DIAMOND CUT DIAMONPr^F^Svo. iiiust. bds..2s. 
TRQWBRIDGEjJ^T.).-FARNELL'S F0LLY7~ P^st 8vo , boards.^sT 
TYTLER (C. C. eraser-). -MISTRESS JUDITH : A Novel. Crown 

Svo, cloth extra, 3s. tid, ; post 8vo, illustrated boards, 2h. 

TYTLER (SARAH), NOVELS^BY^ 

Crown Bvo. cloth extra, 3s. «d. each ; post 8vo, illustrated boards, 29. each. 
THE BRIDE'S PASS. I BURIED DIAMONDS. 

LADY BELL. | THE BLA CKHALL GHOSTS. 

Post 8vo, illustrated boards. 28. each. 



WHAT SHE CAME THROUGH. 
CITOYENNE JACQUELINE 
SAINT MUNGO'S CITY. 



BEAUTY AND THE BEAST. 
DISAPPEARED. | NOBLESSE OBLIGE. 

THE HUG UENOT FAMILY. 

THE MACDONALD LASS. _With Fron tispiece. Cr. 8vo, cloth, 3s. 6d. [ Shortly 

TJPWARD (ALLEN), NOVELS BYT ~ ^ 

■" THE QUEEN AGAINST OWEN. Crown 8vo, doth, 3s. Od. ; post 8vo,bds., 2». 
THE^PRINCEOF BALK ISTAN. Crown 8vo, cloth e xt ra, 3s. «d. [Short ly. 

VASHTI AND ESTHER. By the Writer of "Belle's" Letters in TTs 
World. Cr o wn 8vo, clo th extra, 3s. 6d. 

VILLARI (LINDA).-ADOUBLrBOND : A story. Fcap. 8vo, Is, ' 



UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 





AA 000 366 663 




PR 
h262 
R2 
189^