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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.
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SELECTED POEMS OF ROBERT BUCHANAN. With Frontis-
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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.
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ROBERT BUCHANAN'S COMPLETE POETICAL WORKS.
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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.
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WOMAN AND THE MAN.
RED AND WHITE HEATHER.
RACHEL DENE.
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LADY KILPATRICK.
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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.
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THE WAY WE LIVE NOW. I MR. SCARBOROUGH'S FAMfLY.
FRAU FROHMANN. | THE LAN D-LEAGUERS.
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KEPT IN THE DARK. 1 THE AMERICAN SENATOR.
'^H E GOLDEN LION OF GRANPERE. | JOHN CALDIG ATE. | MARION FAY
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THE BRIDE'S PASS. I BURIED DIAMONDS.
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WHAT SHE CAME THROUGH.
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