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THE ORDEAL 
 
 RICHARD FEVEREL 
 
 % pistnrg of Jfat^^r mh Son. 
 
 BY 
 
 GEORGE MEREDITH 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 CHAPMAN AND HALL, 193, PICCADILLY. 
 
 1859. 
 
printed by 
 
 john edwakd taylor, little ftueen street, 
 
 Lincoln's inn fields, London. 
 
823 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTEE I. 
 
 leiijs 
 
 cj THE PILGSIM's SCRIP 1 
 
 T CHAPTER II. 
 
 ^- A GLIMPSE BEHIND THE MASK 22 
 
 ^' CHAPTEE III. 
 
 MRS. MALEDICTION ........... 37 
 
 ^~ CHAPTEE IV. 
 
 ^^ THE INMATES OF RAYNHAM ABBEY 47 
 
 '%- CHAPTEE V. 
 
 J SHOWING HOW THE FATES SELECTED THE FOUR- 
 TEENTH BIRTHDAY TO TRY THE STRENGTH OF THE 
 SYSTEM 73 
 
 O CHAPTEE VI. 
 
 <^ THE MAGIAN CONFLICT 95 
 
 CHAPTEE VII. 
 
 ARSON . 104 
 
 5 CHAPTEE VIII. 
 
 ^ ADRIAN PLIES HIS HOOK 124 
 
IV CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTEE IX. p^6= 
 
 JUVENILE STRATAGEMS 133 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 daphne's bowee , . 149 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THE BITTER CUP 160 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 a fine DISTINCTION 176 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 RICHARD PASSES THROUGH HIS PRELIMINARY OR- 
 DEAL, AND IS THE OCCASION OF AN APHORISM . 187 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 IN WHICH THE LAST ACT OF THE BAKEWELL COMEDY 
 
 IS CLOSED IN A LETTER 200 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 THE BLOSSOMING SEASON 213 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE MAGNETIC AGE 236 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 AN ATTRACTION 255 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 FERDINAND AND MIRANDA 268 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 UNMASKING OF MASTER RIPTON THOMPSON . , . 286 
 
THE ORDEAL 
 
 EICHAED FEVEEEL 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE PILGHIM'S SCRIP. 
 
 Some years ago was printed, and published ana- 
 nymously, dedicated to the author's enemies, a 
 small book of original Aphorisms, under the 
 heading. The Pilgrim's Scrip. The book 
 was noticeable for its quaint earnestness, and a 
 perversity of view regarding Women, whom the 
 wTiter seldom extolled, and appeared with all 
 conscience to rank as creatures still doing ser- 
 vice to the Serpent: bound to their instincts, 
 and happily subordinate in public affairs, though 
 but too powerful in their own walk. Modern 
 Aphorists are accustomed to make their phrases 
 a play of wit, flashing antithetical brilliancies, 
 
 VOL. I. B 
 
2 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 rather than condensing profound truths. This 
 one, if he did not always say things new, evi- 
 dently spoke from reflection, feeling, and expe- 
 rience : the Triad which gives a healthy utter- 
 ance to AVisdom : and omitting one of w^hich, or 
 with the three not in proper equipoise and junc- 
 tion, admirable sentences may survive as curio- 
 sities, and aptly quoted may clinch a debate, but 
 are as Dead Sea Apples to a thirsting mind, and 
 to men at large incomprehensible juggleries 
 usurping dominion of their understandings with- 
 out seal of authority. His thoughts were sad 
 enough; occasionally dark; here and there co- 
 mical in their oddness : nevertheless there ran 
 through the volume a fire of Hope; and they 
 did him injustice who said he lacked Charity. 
 
 Thus he wrote : 
 
 ' I am happy when I know my neighbour's 
 vice.' 
 
 And it was set down as the word of a cynic ; 
 when rightly weighed, it was a plea for tolerance. 
 
 He said, again : 
 
 ' Life is a tedious process of learning w^e are 
 Fools.' 
 
 And this also is open to mild ints'^pretation, 
 
THE PILGRIM S SCRIP. 
 
 if we do not take special umbrage at the epi- 
 thet. For, as he observes, by way of comment : 
 ' When we know ourselves Fools, we are already 
 something better.' 
 
 He made no pretension to Novelty. ' Our 
 new thoughts have thrilled dead bosoms/ he 
 wrote ; by which avowal may be seen that Youth 
 had manifestly gone from him, since he had 
 ceased to be jealous of the ancients, his fore- 
 fathers. There was a half sigh floating through 
 his pages for those days of intellectual cox- 
 combry, when Ideas come to us afiecting the 
 embraces of Virgins, and swear to us, they are 
 ours alone, and no one else have they ever vi- 
 sited : and we believe them. 
 
 On the subject of Women, certainly, the 
 Aphorist seemed to lose his main virtue. He 
 was not splenetic : nay, he proved in the offend- 
 ing volume he could be civil, courteous, chival- 
 rous, towards them : yet, by reason of a twist in 
 his mental perceptions, it was clear he looked on 
 them as domesticated Wild Cats, ready, like the 
 lady in the fable, to resume their natural habits 
 when there was a little mouse to tear, and, after 
 they had done so, not to be allowed to reappear 
 
4 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD EEVEREL. 
 
 as the seraphs we thought them when they had a 
 silly male mortal to lure : in fact, to be stamped 
 Wild Cats, to the dissipation of Illusion. 
 
 He gravely declared, as one whose postulate 
 was accepted universally : 
 
 ?, ' I expect that Woman will be the last thing 
 civilized by Man.' 
 
 And from this tremendous impertinence, he 
 stalked on like a Colossus to treat of other 
 matters, worldly and spiritual, with the calm of a 
 superior being who has avowed a most hopeful 
 opinion : as indeed it was. He conceived that 
 the Wild Cats would some day be actually tamed. 
 At present it was best to know them what they 
 were. 
 
 Singular to say, the one dangerous and objec- 
 tionable feature in this little volume, preserved 
 it from limbo. Men read, and tossed it aside, 
 amused, or weary. They set the author down 
 as a Sentimentalist jilted ; commonly known to 
 be a savagely vindictive wretch, who deserves to 
 be listened to solely when he dresses a gay shaft, 
 and that for the fun. They were angry at his 
 ponderous intentness. They, let us suppose, were 
 Sentimentalists not yet jilted. 
 
THE PILGRIM S SCRIP. D 
 
 By the ladies, however, who took the Dedica- 
 tion to themselves, he was welcomed otherwise. 
 These extraordinary creatures, whose moves it is 
 impossible to predict, and who will, now and 
 then, love, or affect to love, their enemies better 
 than their friends, cherished his book, and asked 
 for him. He had fortunately not put his name 
 to the title-page. In the place of a signature of 
 authorship, stood a Griffin between Two Wheat- 
 sbeaves. It became a question, then, whether this 
 might be symbolic, or a family crest. Several 
 ladies detected symbolism in the aspect of the 
 Griffin, which had a snarling hostile air to them, 
 and seemed to mean that the author was a 
 double-animal, and could do without them, being 
 well fortified by Life's Wherewithal to right and 
 left. Other ladies, arguing from the latent vanity 
 in man, would insist upon the Crest. Bodies 
 of ladies made application to the publisher, who 
 maintained the good repute of his craft in keep- 
 ing his secret, and was not to be seduced, and 
 increased the mystery. 
 
 ' Thou that thinkest thyself adored,' says The 
 Pilgrim's Scrip, ' O Fool ! it is not Thou she 
 loveth, but the Difficulty.' 
 
6 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 To manifest the truth in which, one adven- 
 turous fair one betook herself to the Herald's 
 College, and there, after immense labour, ascer- 
 tained that a Griffin between Two Wheatsheaves 
 formed the crest of Sir Austin Absworthy Bearne 
 Feverel, Baronet, of Raynham Abbey, in a cer- 
 tain Western County folding Thames : a man of 
 wealth, and honom*, and a somewhat lamentable 
 history. 
 
 The discovery of a Secret implies no obliga- 
 tion to retain it ; and the lady in question treated 
 her capture as a prisoner of war, whom, like Ta- 
 merlane, she exhibited in a cage to her friends : 
 that is, it was shared with them, and was pre- 
 sumed to belong to her : but they, considering a 
 Secret to be of so rich an essence that it can 
 only be enjoyed diluted, had also their confi- 
 dences, and the Secret soon broke through its 
 solemn bars, and evaporated in soft whispers, by 
 which in the end Sir Austin Feverel, much to his 
 amazement, became famous as The Griffin, and 
 learnt what it was to give Woman a clue. 
 
 The Baronet became famous, and tasted the 
 fruits of celebrity. His breakfast- table grew odo- 
 riferous with dainty notes from fair correspon- 
 
THE PILGRIM S SCRIP. 7 
 
 dents, deploring their non-intimacy, and begging 
 the favour of a Copy of his Beautiful Book, 
 while remonstrating humbly against the severity 
 of liis judgment pronounced on a sex, which, 
 whatever its shortcomings, could, and did, reve- 
 rence a Sage. Showers of the enthusiastic rose- 
 pink descended on Baynham. One lady addressed 
 the Aphorist as England's Christian La Boche- 
 foucauld. One went so far as to propose her- 
 self to him as An Uncorrupted Eve: and there 
 is no knowing what a disinherison of Boste- 
 rity may have sprung from his persistent eva- 
 sion of their pointed flatteries. Eor he was a 
 soured Adam whom not even an uncorrupted Eve 
 might tempt. 
 
 " We live and learn," said the Baronet to 
 young Adrian Harley, his nephew and intimate ; 
 " b^t it is odd that, when we whip her, Madam 
 should love us the more." 
 
 " You have propounded it frequently. Sir," re- 
 plied that clever youth, " in the Great Shad- 
 dock Dogma." (Eor so, on account of its con- 
 stant and \mgenerous citation of the primal slip 
 in Baradise, Adrian chose to entitle The Bil- 
 grim's Scrip). " You say : 
 
 " ' Woman when she wrestles for supremacy 
 
» THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 with every one she encounters, is but seeking her 
 Master/ 
 
 " She's a Tyrant till she's reduced to bondage, 
 and a rebel till she's well beaten. She worships 
 strength, whether of the physique or of the in- 
 tellect, and likes to feel it. Poet, Philosopher, 
 or Athlete, come not amiss to her; and could 
 she get the three in one — " 
 
 " Ay, then," Sir Austin took him up, " fare- 
 well Duty ! Women are born Pagans, ever on 
 the look-out for material Gods !" 
 
 " Whom, if they can't discover, they create !" 
 added Adrian. " Witness many a gentle joy of 
 an Ass. To be distinguished by Woman is to 
 wear Bully Bottom's Garland." 
 
 "Preserve me from that!" exclaimed the Ba- 
 ronet, shuddering devoutly. 
 
 His own written enunciations were adverse to 
 his chances of escape, and Adrian capitulated 
 them : 
 
 " ' Man is the speculative animal : Woman the 
 practical.' 
 
 '' Wherefore : 
 
 " ' Tempt her not to swear to her soul she will 
 have thee — thou art lost !'" 
 
 But he had written a book; he had made 
 
THE pilgrim's SCRIP. 9 
 
 himself an object : Miss Blewins was in the field ; 
 the lean, the long-nosed, the accomplished, the 
 literary : Miss Joy Blewins, sister to the afore- 
 said, was in the field ; the half-man, who cut her 
 hair short, and parted it on the left side : Lady 
 Blandish was in the field; the fairest sweetest 
 sensible widow ever seen, a dead shot with her 
 eyes, when she used them ; The Hon. Mrs. 
 Breakyeline was in the field; who had in her 
 time plunged through countless ethical hedges 
 and ditches, without apparent discomfiture to her 
 muslin. A dozen emulous young persons in, or 
 just out of, pinafores, swift-runners, had taken 
 the field. Half the number of habituated old 
 ones were there, formidable with experience and 
 wigs. Poetesses, authoresses, heiresses, were 
 there. In the field, too, was Mrs. M'Murphy, 
 an Irish Giantess, who made a point of asking 
 directly of men whatever she wanted ; terrible to 
 deal with ! Mrs. Cashentire, a banker's wife, who 
 behaved as if she had been his relict : Lady 
 Attenbury, who followed the fashion : Lastly, 
 Camilla Duvergey, the fastest young woman of 
 the day. All these female harriers were in the 
 field prepared to give chase to the Griffin. 
 
10 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD EEVEREL. 
 
 Miss Blewins said, he must be converted to a 
 nobler conception of the Dignity of Woman, and 
 her Mission. 
 
 Mrs. M'Murphy averred, " she should be dis- 
 'pinted if she didn't marr' him," and, hearing 
 that he was already married, shrieked "Ow;" 
 for which the Hon. Mrs. Breakyeline sneered at 
 her, and scandalously declared, he was still to 
 be had : but Lady Blandish, and Lady Attenbury, 
 were neighbours of his, and knew that the game 
 was scarce tractable. 
 
 In pursuance of their resolve, the hardiest of 
 these terrible persecutors announced their in- 
 tention of coming down to Raynham to sit at 
 Gamaliers feet and drink of wisdom from its 
 course. 
 
 "What am I to do?" cried the unhappy 
 Griffin, when the news reached him. ■> 
 
 " Hire a Boy and a Mantle, Sir. I see no- 
 thing else for it," said Adrian. 
 
 The Baronet stroked his brow, as if he already 
 felt Bully Bottom's Garland. 
 
 " But when they have read my opinion of 
 them," he exclaimed fretfully, "what do they 
 want with me ? " 
 
THE pilgrim's SCRIP. 11 
 
 " That's it," Adrian remarked. " They want 
 to change it. Sheba once made a far jomiiey !" 
 
 Solomon shook his head. 
 
 The ladies were true to their threat. Miss 
 Blewins, the long-nosed, the hterary, was the 
 first to arrive. Her followed the short-haired 
 Joy, the half-man. Then came Mrs. Cashentire, 
 succeeded by the bony big Celt, and the swift 
 Camilla, and nameless worshipers, who all in- 
 troduced themselves, and clahned admittance, 
 on the strength of their admiration of The Pil- 
 grim's Scrip. 
 
 Sir i\.ustin did his best to receive them gra- 
 ciously, and his sister, Mrs. Doria Porey, the 
 female Head of his house, kept her eyes in wake- 
 ful watch on them. They came, and did not go. 
 They formed a Court about him; listening to 
 him eagerly, and sighing at his inveterate con- 
 clusions : hoping higher things of Woman, and 
 meekly combating till they fell. A Tournament 
 was 'held nightly. 
 
 Miss Blewins, the long-nosed, the literary, 
 elected herself spokeswoman, and held the post 
 in spite of vehement obstructions from Mrs. 
 M'Murphy. 
 
 " Oh, Sir Austin," she ejaculated, "it is surely 
 
1:3 THE ORDEAL OF EICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 our Education which causes us to shine at such a 
 disadvantage ! You make dolls of us ! puppets ! 
 Are we not something — something more?" 
 " Aren't we yer mothers ? " shouts the M'Mur- 
 
 " Are we not delegated to a higher office in 
 conjunction with Man ? " continued the Maiden, 
 heedless of the vulgar interruption. " Is it only 
 for our beauty you take us?" And she lifted 
 her length of nose pathetically. 
 
 '' You compel us," stammered Miss Joy, who 
 knew the sequence. 
 
 " You compel us," Miss Blewins caught her 
 by the skirt, " you compel us to lean on our ac- 
 quirements utterly, and you wonder that Woman, 
 deprived of inner life, is found wanting in moral 
 self-support !" 
 
 This was not going to the root of the matter. 
 The Baronet would smile in pity, and put a case 
 to her. 
 
 " A Woman, Madam, the sole representative 
 of her sex ! Suppose her upon an Island peopled 
 by nothing but men. — " 
 
 " Horrut !" the M'Murphy howls, and the ex- 
 clamation was repeated in English by the whole 
 Court. 
 
THE pilgrim's SCRIP. 13 
 
 *' I ask yoii/' he calmly resumed, '' to accord 
 me your candid opinion liow tliat woman would 
 be treated, even though the men were hinds — all 
 but savages?" 
 
 The Court mutely consulted, and Miss Blewins 
 was approved in observing, that she' really did 
 honestly think that the single representative of 
 her sex would — shocking as her situation must 
 be deemed — be treated with due respect, and 
 esteem, if not with reverence, nay, worship ! 
 
 Then the ladies, warming to the notion, cried 
 out with one voice, that it would be delightful! 
 that she would be a Queen, a Priestess among 
 them. Numbers pined for such a fate. The 
 swift Camilla vowed she never should be happy 
 till she reigned in that blissful Island. 
 
 "Good!" said Sir Austin. "And now re- 
 verse the case. Conceive an Island peopled by 
 Women, and but one Man in their Society : 
 tossed there, say, by shipwreck. — Hem ! " and 
 the Aphorist looked arch. " What course of 
 treatment might that one Man anticipate at their 
 hands?" 
 
 Silence, and abashed blushes, and smothered 
 silver laughter, received this second Supposition. 
 
14 THE OHDEAL OF RICHARD EEVEREL. 
 
 How indeed would he be treated ? To which of 
 the ladies would he belong? A shipwrecked 
 mariner is not easily made a Priest of; and if 
 they crowned him King, the prime consideration 
 still remained at issue — to whom would he be- 
 long ? He must belong to some one of them ! 
 The Court was split. A few ladies faintly main- 
 tained that he would be prudently impounded 
 till such time as they could make suitable use of 
 him, and despatch him in safety, sound of limb, 
 from the Isle. Lady Blandish, too, suggested the 
 present instance of an Aphorist, and a hostile 
 one, alone in their company, and imdamaged, 
 she hoped : and Miss Blewins desperately at- 
 tempted to claim the triumph of the illustration 
 for Woman ; inasmuch as it was admitted, that 
 Woman would leaven the male mass by her pre- 
 sence, whereas a feminine community, hitherto 
 smiling and uncorrupt, was, by the inauspicious 
 sea-gift of one of the opposite sex, depraved. It 
 was barely necessary that Sir Austin should ex- 
 pose her as a sophist, to stride victorious through 
 the field. A Majority of the ladies, headed by 
 Mrs. M 'Murphy, who was very outspoken about 
 the claims she should put forth to the Man, let 
 
THE pilgrim's SCRIP. 15 
 
 it be seen that in their gentle bosoms they be- 
 lieved that unfortunate male would fare sadly, if 
 he did not ultimately suffer the fate of a cele- 
 brated mythic Singer. Torn in pieces ! was the 
 all but unanimous Verdict on the Wretch. .There 
 was no Chivalry in Woman. So these ladies 
 confessed. Her spirit of appropriation was too 
 strong ! 
 
 That some great things are done without 
 design, and that certain w^onderful victories 
 may be found more costly than a defeat, it 
 were loss of time to insist upon. The ladies 
 who formed the Court at Raynhara had doubt- 
 less no conspiracy to succumb to the insult of 
 the Shaddock Dogma, thereby to ensnare and 
 make foolish its pronouncer; and the Baronet 
 assuredly entertained no idea than an uninter- 
 rupted career of logical conquest endangered 
 his stability. He thought, naturally, that the 
 more he overthrew her in argument, the safer 
 his position. Nevertheless, he was melting to 
 Woman. Woman appreciated his Aphorisms, 
 and Man did not. That was possibly a reason. 
 When the inferior creature appreciates us, we 
 cease to despise her. When the inferior crea- 
 
16 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 ture acknowledges her fault, she is already ri- 
 sing in the scale. She exhibits Intelligence ; she 
 gives proof of Humility ; two excellent bases 
 for the building of a better hope for her. The 
 change was insensible in Sir Austin ; a work 
 of months and years. He was surrounded by 
 an admiring cii'cle of swxet women, and against 
 the charm of their society what Shaddock Dog- 
 matist, however soured and reluctant, can hold 
 out lastingly ? It is an opposite extreme of the 
 peril of entire abstraction from them, which has 
 ruined renowned Saints, who had trusted that 
 way to solve man's problem. Sir Austin's state 
 was nearly as precarious as Saint Anthony's. 
 The vision of a single young woman is said to 
 have overcome the inflammable Monk : twenty 
 of these were now besetting our fire-proof Ba- 
 ronet. The fact of a Shaddock Dogmatist resist- 
 ing them to any extent, may account for his 
 being so pertinaciously pursued. Be it said, 
 for the honour of the sex. Women esteem not 
 easy game. Adonis is wished for his beauty, 
 and Lovelace for his naughty character : but 
 Beauty and Wickedness, though desirable, are 
 small deer. It is the rank misogynist, who flees 
 
THE pilgrim's SCRIP. 17 
 
 tliem, whom they hunt down as far as he will 
 go. Him they regard as the noble stag of the 
 forest, and to catch him they disencumber 
 themselves of many garments retained in a com- 
 mon chase. 
 
 From The Pilgrim's Scrip, it was clear that 
 Sir Austin knew them mighty hunters : as thus : 
 
 ' The Amazon cut off a breast to battle : 
 How will not Woman disfigure and unsex her- 
 self to gain her end ? ' 
 
 And further, mournfully : 
 
 ' To withstand them, must we first annihilate 
 our Mothers within us : die half ! ' 
 
 The poor gentleman, seriously believing Wo- 
 man to be a Mistake, had long been trying to 
 do so. Had he succeeded, he would have died 
 his best half, for his mother was strong in him. 
 The very acridity of the Aphorisms, the Great 
 Shaddock Dogma itself, sprang from wounded 
 softness, not from hardness. It may be that the 
 unerring scent of the hounds in pursuit told 
 them this. One who really despised them had 
 left them in peace. 
 
 Beyond dispute, Sir Austin must have fallen 
 a prey to them, and they were to have added 
 
 VOL. I. c 
 
18 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 a Griffin to their Zoological Garden of tributa- 
 ries : the greater his aesthetic, the more positive 
 their earthy, triumphs : and he might say, ' If I 
 fall, I fall perforce of spiritual superiority, for 
 they can but tempt my baser nature, and were 
 they to rise to me, there would be no jeopardy.' 
 He must have been ultimately betrayed by his 
 softness, but, as often happens, he was fully 
 armed at his weakest point ; namely, the heart. 
 He had a son, and his heart was filled by him. 
 He had a son, and he was incubating a System. 
 
 To the Son, and to the System, the stranger 
 ladies of the Court were introduced. In the 
 former, they beheld a handsome, graceful, boy, 
 not unlike other boys, but looking the pick of 
 them. The latter was a puzzle. 
 
 Sir Austin explained it in his Aphoristic 
 fashion. 
 
 " Sin is an alien element in our blood. 'Tis 
 the Apple-Disease with which Nature has striven 
 since Adam. To treat Youth as naturally sin- 
 ful, is, therefore, false, and bad ; as it is bad, 
 and false, to esteem it radically pm^e. We 
 must consider that we have forfeited Paradise, 
 but were yet grown there. 
 
THE pilgrim's SCRIP. 19 
 
 " Belonging, then, by birth to Paradise, our 
 tendency should even be towards it : allowing 
 no lower standard than its Perfection. 
 
 " The Triumph of man's intellect, the proof 
 of his power, is to make the Serpent who 
 inhabits us fight against himself, till he is de- 
 stroyed. 
 
 " My son possesses Pride, say. Human Pride 
 is a well-adjusted mixture of Good and Evil. 
 Well ; it tempts him to conceive that he is more 
 than his fellows. Let it, as it can, lift him to 
 he more than his fellows, and at once he will 
 cease to conceive it : the fight will have been 
 fought : the Devil will be dead. 
 
 " For this is our divine consolation : that Evil 
 may be separated from Good : but Good can- 
 not be separated from Evil : the Devil may, the 
 Angel will not, be driven out from us. A truly 
 good man is possible upon Earth : a thoroughly 
 bad man is not possible. This you admit ? " 
 
 The poor ladies murmured, that they admitted 
 it. Man ! Man 1 Man ! they began to feel in 
 their souls a dreadful antagonism to Man. 
 
 " Well ! " and the Baronet sententiously pur- 
 sued. 
 
20 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 He did right to preach to women : men 
 would not have Hstened to him. As it was, 
 Miss Joy Blewins, and Mrs. M'Murphy, were 
 restive. 
 
 The gist of the System set forth : That a 
 Golden Age, or something near it, might yet be 
 estabHshed on our sphere, when fathers accepted 
 their solemn responsibility, and studied human 
 nature with a Scientific eye, knowing what a 
 high Science it is, to live : and that, by hedging 
 round the Youth from corruptness, and at the 
 same time promoting his animal health, by help- 
 ing him to grow, as he would, like a Tree of 
 Eden ; by advancing him to a certain moral 
 fortitude ere the Apple-Disease was spontane- 
 ously developed, there would be seen something 
 approaching to a perfect Man, as the Baronet 
 trusted to make this one Son of his, after a 
 receipt of his own. 
 
 What he exactly meant by the Apple-Disease, 
 he did not explain : nor did the ladies ask for an 
 explanation. Intuitively they felt hot when it 
 was mentioned. 
 
 Miss Blewins said the idea was very original. 
 
 " A gigantic task !" said Mrs. Cashentire. 
 
THE pilgrim's SCRIP. 21 
 
 "It's more than ye '11 do though. Take my 
 word for it," said the M'Murphy, and the Hon. 
 Mrs. Breakyeline vowed, " She liked a man to 
 be a man." She was evidently not the Uncor- 
 rupted Eve. 
 
 But whatever folly there was in the System, it 
 saved its author for awhile, at least, and cleansed 
 his Court of such ladies as had come there for 
 a lower motive than the Adoration of Wisdom. 
 The swift Camilla wished she could have waited 
 for the youth. She could not, she declared, and 
 retired, followed in her secession by the M'Mur- 
 phy, who plainly told Sir Austin, that, now young 
 men had got the taste for Apples, they would 
 bite at them. Others departed to combat the 
 Great Shaddock Dogma in books, and justify 
 it by their acts. The System was left with a 
 few occasionally-visiting old Maids, and eccentric 
 wives, and the neighbouring fair Widow Blan- 
 dish, to work itself out, and then was peace again 
 at Raynham Abbey. 
 
22 
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 
 A GLIMPSE BEHIND TlIE MASK. 
 
 Fame, the chief retainer of distinguished families, 
 has first sounded the origin of the Feverels where 
 their Hue of Ancestry blossoms with a Baronet ; 
 and Rumour, the profane vagabond, who wdll 
 not take service in any respectable household, 
 whispers that he w^as a Villain. At all events, for 
 this proud race, behind his dazzling appearance 
 sits Darkness and democratic Adam, and they 
 cling to him as an ark of pure aristocracy. Sir 
 Pylcher Feverel, they will tell you, assuming a 
 Norman air to deliver it, spelt his name (or 
 meant to spell it) Fiervarelle ; a name hearing 
 which you seem to hear a trumpet blown re- 
 mote, from the Conqueror's ranks, in the morn- 
 ing, in the mists, over Pevensey : youthful Fe- 
 verols of the latest generation have been known 
 to challenge the Saxon towards the same hour, 
 
A GLIMPSE BEHIND THE MASK. 23 
 
 by announcing themselves as formidably. This 
 luminous Knight (still to follow the traditions of 
 the family, for the sake of avoiding a challenge), 
 having quarters on the Welsh frontier, mixed 
 his blood with the royal blood ap Gruffudh : 
 from whose fair Princess the Welsh estates were 
 inherited, and who must at the same time have 
 endowed them with that Cymric tinge to their 
 habits and mental cast observable in the fortunes 
 of the race. At what period they quitted Che- 
 shire and settled upon Thames is matter of fa- 
 mily controversy, and History, unable to decide, 
 has declined to speak on the point. They were 
 great on their pedigree, and held that an old 
 Baronetcy is worth any new Dukedom, and that 
 good blood is Heaven's first-gift. Occasionally 
 in its downward course the blood branched into 
 many channels : and again it shrunk into one. 
 Sir Caradoc Peverel, the predecessor of Sir 
 Austin, was an only son ; twice, it was said, on 
 the verge of death before he had a successor, and 
 then they came in numbers. There was a Mrs. 
 Malediction in the House (bequeathed by the 
 great Sir Pylcher). Often had she all but cut 
 them oflP from their old friend. Time, and they re- 
 
24 THE OHDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 vived again. Whether it was the Apple-Disease, 
 or any other, strong constitutions seemed strug- 
 gHng in them with some pecuhar malady. Of 
 course, members of the family were foremost in 
 spilling loyal blood on Marston Moor, that great 
 field of phlebotomy to so many Cavahers. With 
 the increase of their wealth, owing to the dis- 
 covery of mineral treasures on their ap Gruffudh 
 grounds, they sank into quiescent Tories, and 
 spent the better portion of their time in essays 
 at Agriculture and Park-planting at home, while 
 abroad they did battle on behalf of Protection. 
 
 The house they lived in, called an Abbey from 
 some tradition of its site, was a heterogeneous 
 architectural jumble, which nevertheless present- 
 ed a generous front to a broad westward valley of 
 green pastm-es, fruitful tillage, and a pure-flow- 
 ing wave ; and seen from the river, on its plat- 
 form of greensward, backed by lofty pines, and 
 flanked with beechwoods midway down a hil- 
 locky roll of grass, that ended in flat rich mea- 
 dows extending to the river-side, deserved some 
 better title than that of Raynham Ramshackle, 
 as the Pap worths, old political antagonists of the 
 Peverels, delighted to term it. A child, with two 
 
A GLIMPSE BEHIND THE MASK. ZO 
 
 perpendicular lines and one horizontal, could 
 have designed the mansion of Sir Miles Pap- 
 worth, shining down the valley, towards Lo- 
 bourne; and a child, too, might have designed 
 Sir Miles, and accurately sketched him when it 
 drew a round impending upon a round of exagge- 
 rated girth, from which two stumpy down- strokes 
 stuck forth to prop the fabric. Sir Miles was a 
 Saxon born and bred, and (though not conse- 
 quently) a Whig. He was a mature specimen of 
 modern England's vaunted race : or let us say, 
 the vaunted race of modern England's novelists. 
 He was the heroic grain they cut types from. In 
 his youth he had amassed good muscle, and sank 
 down on it, in his decline, to drink Port. Pros- 
 perous, pig-headed, and just in proportion : bald 
 and rubicund : corpulent, hearty, and bandy : a 
 domestic despot, a staunch subject, a fair-dealing 
 father, a foe to innovation and ideas, a devoted 
 worshiper of himself against the world, this old 
 hero was the contrast of the Head of the Eier- 
 varelles, and fought the Battle of Hastings with 
 him more than once, and beat him on one held. 
 Sir Austin was unhappy in his Marriage, and 
 Sir Miles, entrenched in a well-drilled, many- 
 
26 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 childed, timid little shadow of a wife, vastly 
 enjoyed his social advantage over the lord of 
 Raynham. Not to have mastered a w^oman, he 
 thought the meanest confession a man could 
 make, and, apart from political feud, he had no 
 pity for his wretched rival Baronet, though, be- 
 tween his port, he vented much damnable con- 
 dolence. The Pilgrim's Scrip he held in con- 
 tempt, being an admirer of Woman, whom, he 
 said, he never had any difficulty in understand- 
 ing. His way of reading them was decidedly 
 straightforward. On the field of politics, he had 
 to lay down his arms to Sir Austin. Peverel 
 was the richer man, and the County was agri- 
 cultural and Tory. Hence their dissension. The 
 battle was well-fought, and, though beaten, the 
 Saxon did not give in : but he was no match for 
 the Conqueror's Cook. The strategy of Rayn- 
 ham's Dining-hall overpowered him. Of that 
 hall, at least, the Papworths could say nothing 
 derogatory without betraying miserable envy. 
 Jolly farmers had sighed in it ; influential trades- 
 men with a taste for land, had there been kin- 
 dled into high enthusiasm for the Old Blood. 
 The legs of devoted plumpers had grown weak 
 
A GLIMPSE BEHIND THE MASK. 27 
 
 under Raynham's famous mahogany, and their 
 heads strong. Sir Austin's Cook thrice returned 
 him to ParHament. 
 
 The Dining-hall had been closed seven years 
 when The Pilgrim's Scrip appeared : closed 
 seldom to hear revel again. There at one end 
 drooped two mouldy standards, wrung from the 
 foeman by a Pevercl on the battle-field : be- 
 tween them a Golden Torque set in a frame, said 
 to have belonged once to a warrior of the ap 
 Gruffudh. A sense of cobwebs and the reign 
 of the spider hung about its heavy oak-carvings. 
 The music of glasses, the laughter of freemen, 
 was dumb there. The place seemed to have 
 forgotten how once within the jovial four walls 
 Britons had been touched to the quick by great 
 wines, shrewd dishes ! how whiskef s had been 
 widened by the grin ! 
 
 In those days Sir Austin Peverel was thought 
 a royal man, and was in a fair way to be 
 beloved. He was frank and warm with his 
 friends; generous to the poor, and above all, 
 delicate with them, who have the keenest in- 
 stinct for a gentleman, and venerated him ac- 
 cordingly. When his disaster befell him, and 
 
28 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 his home was suddenly desolate, it was as though 
 his tree of life had shrunk under a blight. He 
 shut himself up as he did his Dining-hall ; relin- 
 quished Parliament, and bade a mute adieu to 
 Ambition. People were astonished at the utter 
 change wrought in so apparently proud and self- 
 reliant a man: but old folks, that knew the fa- 
 mily, said, they expected it some day or other. 
 It was in the blood, they said : Sir Caradoc, his 
 father, was a strange hand, and so was his father, 
 Sir Algernon, before him : they were all sure to 
 turn out a little wrong some day or other. And 
 the old folks tapped their foreheads meaningly. 
 
 Sir Austin also came to their conclusion, that 
 it was in his blood ; a superstition he had afore- 
 time smiled at. He had regarded his father, 
 Sir Caradoc, as scarce better than a madman 
 when he spoke of a special Ordeal for their race ; 
 and when, in his last hour (the sails of the 
 knightly bark then loosening to the night wind 
 on the fast-ebbing tide), the old Baronet caught 
 his elder son's hand, and desired him to be fore- 
 warned, Austin had, while bowing respectfully, 
 wondered that Reason was not vouchsafed to his 
 parent at that supreme instant. From the morn- 
 
A GLIMPSE BEHIND THE MASK. 29 
 
 ing hills of existence he beheld a clear horizon. 
 He was no sooner struck hard than Sir Caradoc's 
 words smote him like a revelation. He believed 
 that a curse was in his blood ; a poison of Re- 
 tribution, which no life of purity could expel ; 
 and grew, perhaps, more morbidly credulous on 
 the point than his predecessor : speaking of the 
 Ordeal of the Feverels, with sonorous solemnity, 
 as a thing incontrovertibly foredecreed to them. 
 Vainly his friends argued, that men commonly 
 calculated on wounds and bruises, and were not 
 disappointed. Sir Austin, strong in the peculiar 
 sharpness of the sting darted into him, held that 
 there was an entire distinction in their lot : that 
 other men were tried by puny ailments; were 
 not searched and shaken by one tremendous 
 shock, as of a stroke of Heaven's lightning. 
 He indicated that the Fates and Furies were 
 quite as partial as Fortune. Stricken Pride, and 
 a feverish blood, made him seek consolation in 
 this way. 
 
 The outline of the Baronet's story was by no 
 means new. He had a wife, and he had a friend. 
 His marriage was for love; his wife was a beauty; 
 his friend was a poet. Sir Austin Feverel did 
 
30 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 nothing by halves. His wife had his whole 
 heart, and his friend all his confidence. When 
 he selected Denzil Somers from among his 
 College chums, it was not on account of any 
 similarity of disposition between them, but from 
 his intense worship of Genius, which made him 
 overlook the absence of principle in his associate, 
 for the sake of such brilliant promise. Denzil 
 had a small patrimony to lead ofi" with, but that 
 he dissipated before he left College, and thence- 
 forth he was dependent upon his admirer, with 
 whom he lived, filling a nominal post of bailiff" 
 to the estates, and launching forth Verse of some 
 satiric and sentimental quality; for being in- 
 chned to vice, and occasionally, in a quiet way, 
 practising it, he was, of course, a sentimentaKst 
 and a satirist, entitled to lash the Age, and 
 complain of human nature. His earher Poems, 
 pubHshed under the pseudonym of Diaper San- 
 doe, were so pure and bloodless in their love- 
 passages, and at the same time so biting in their 
 moral tone, that his reputation was great among 
 the virtuous, who form the larger portion of the 
 EngUsh book-buying public. Election-seasons 
 called him to ballad-poetry on behalf of the Tory 
 
A GLIMPSE BEHIND THE MASK. 31 
 
 party, and lines of his on "Sir Miles Paunch/' 
 adapted to the dialect of the County (wherein 
 two Countrymen meet to discuss the nation's af- 
 fairs, and contend, in iambics, one, that all goes 
 wrong for want of a Head in Parliament — a 
 clear allusion to the Feverel faction — the other, 
 that the country labours lacking Paunch there 
 — grotesquely describing the Papworth minority 
 — and the arguments of the two end in a fight, 
 when the Head-man finishes by doubling-up the 
 Paunch-man), appealed triumphantly to popular 
 British humour, and shared in routing the Saxon 
 at the hustings. Diaper possessed undoubted 
 fluency, but did little, though Sir Austin was 
 ever expecting much of him. 
 
 A pale, languishing, inexperienced, woman, 
 whose husband, in mental, and in moral, stature 
 is more than the ordinary height above her, and 
 who, now that her first romantic admiration of 
 his lofty bearing has worn off*, and her little fret- 
 ful refinements of taste and sentiment are not 
 instinctively responded to, is thrown into no 
 wholesome household collision with a fluent man, 
 fluent in prose and rhyme. Lady Feverel, when 
 she first entered on her duties at Raynham, 
 
32 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 was jealous of her husband's friend, and moved 
 the very foundation-stones of the house to get 
 his dismissal ; ineffectually : Sir Austin reasoned 
 with her, — an insult in such cases, as a woman 
 knows, and that she does not pardon. Diaper 
 remained, and led his old chrysalis life from 
 which he was some day to emerge a resplendent 
 butterfly. Good cellars, choice company, a house 
 in town, pocket-money at command, one may 
 believe (Sir Austin did) that it was not he who 
 sought the ruin, and courted temptation. By 
 degrees the lady tolerated him. In time he 
 touched his guitar in her chamber, and they 
 played Rizzio and Mary together. 
 
 *' Tor I am not the first who found 
 The name of Mary fatal ! " 
 
 says a subsequent sentimental alliterative love- 
 poem of Diaper's. 
 
 Such was the outline of the story. But the 
 Baronet could fill it up. He had opened his 
 soul to these two. He had been noble Love to 
 the one, and to the other perfect Friendship. He 
 had bid them be brother and sister, whom he 
 loved, and live a Golden Age with him at Rayn- 
 
A GLIMPSE BEHIND THE MASK. 33 
 
 bam. In fact, lie had been prodigal of the ex- 
 cellencies of his nature, which it is not good to 
 be, and, like Timon, he became bankrupt, and 
 fell upon bitterness. 
 
 " Didn't he expect his luck ?" cried Sir Miles. 
 
 The old Saxon understood women, he did. 
 And he affirmed that the best way to continue 
 their warm admirer was to keep the bit well in 
 their mouths, and lay on the whip now and then. 
 They laugh who win. His wife was a faithful 
 woman. 
 
 The faithless lady was of no particular family 
 — an orphan daughter of an Admiral who edu- 
 cated her on his half-pay, and her conduct struck 
 but at the man whose name she bore. 
 
 After five years of Marriage, and twelve of 
 Friendship, Sir Austin was left to his loneliness 
 with nothing to ease his heart of love upon save 
 a little baby-boy in a cradle. He forgave the 
 man : he put him aside as poor for his wrath. 
 The woman he could not forgive. She had sinned 
 everyway. Simple ingratitude to a benefactor 
 was a pardonable transgression, for he was not 
 one to recount, and crush the culprit under the 
 heap of, his good deeds. But her he had raised 
 
 VOL. I. D 
 
34 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 to be bis equal, and be judged ber as bis equal. 
 Sbe bad blackened tbe world's fair aspect for 
 bim. 
 
 In tbe presence of tbat world, so different to 
 bim now, be preserved bis wonted demeanour, 
 and made bis features a flexible mask. Mrs. 
 J Doria Forey, bis widowed sister, said ; " Austin 
 ^ k^ migbt bave retired from bis Parliamentary career 
 ^"^ for a time, and given up gaieties, and tbat kind 
 of tiling : ber opinion, founded on observation of 
 bim in public and private, w^as, tbat tbe ligbt 
 tiling tbat bad taken fligbt was but a featber on 
 ber brotber's Eeverel-beart, — and bis ordinary 
 course would be resumed." Tbere are times 
 wben common men cannot bear tbe weiglit of 
 just so mucb. Hippias Peverel tbougbt bim im- 
 mensely improved by bis misfortune, if tbe loss 
 of sucb a person could be so designated; and 
 seeing tbat Hippias received in consequence free 
 quarters at Raynbam, and possession of tbe wing 
 of tbe Abbey sbe bad inbabited, it is profitable 
 to know bis tbougbts. If tbe Baronet bad given 
 two or tliree blazing dinners in tbe great Hall, 
 be would bave deceived people generally, as be 
 did bis relations and intimates. He was too sick 
 for tbat : fit only for passive acting. 
 
A GLIMPSE BEHIND THE MASK. 35 
 
 A stern cold man, it was said : touched in his 
 Pride — nowhere but there. 
 
 The nursemaid waking in the night, beheld 
 a solitary figure darkening a lamp above her 
 little sleeping charge, and became so used to 
 the sight as never to wake with a start. One 
 night she was strangely aroused by a sound of 
 sobbing. The Baronet stood beside the cot in 
 his long black cloak and travelling- cap. His 
 fingers shaded a lamp, and reddened against 
 the fitful darkness that ever and anon went 
 leaping up the wall. She could hardly believe 
 her senses to see the austere gentleman, dead 
 silent, dropping tear upon tear before her eyes. 
 She lay stone-still in a trance of terror and 
 mournfulness, mechanically counting the tears 
 as they fell, one by one. The hidden face, the 
 fall and flash of those heavy drops in the light 
 of the lamp he held, the upright, awful figure, 
 agitated at regular intervals, like a piece of 
 clockwork, by the low murderous catch of his 
 breath : it was so painfully piteous to her poor 
 human nature that her heart began wildly pal- 
 pitating. Involuntarily the poor girl cried out 
 to him, " Oh, Sir ! " and fell a- weeping. Sir 
 
36 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 Austin turned the lamp on her pillow, and 
 harshly bade her go to sleep, striding from the 
 room forthwith. 
 
 To express sympathy for a Feverel during his 
 Ordeal, w^as a grave misdemeanour : to surprise 
 the Head of the family unmanned was a mortal 
 offence. Dian was not more chastely jealous of 
 her bath, than Sir Austin of the moment when 
 his knightly chainmail was removed, and his 
 heart stood bare. 
 
 Poor Polly- Actaeon was summoned to the Ba- 
 ronet's study next morning, and was shortly af- 
 terwards deported from the Abbey by his man, 
 like a guilty thing whose touch to the rest of 
 the inmates was contagion : her cheeks in a de- 
 luge, and a seal on her mouth. 
 
37 
 
 CHAPTER HI. 
 
 MRS. MALEDICTION. 
 
 On one occasion in the year, tlie old Hall tried 
 to know itself again. The logs blazed, and the 
 table was laid to celebrate young Richard's 
 birthday. October summoned every connection 
 of the Eeverels to this festivity. The boy's 
 uncles, Algernon, the guardsman, Cuthbert, the 
 sailor, Vivian, the diplomatist and beau, made 
 a point of coming, for not to be present on that 
 great day of the golden month, was to encounter 
 a cold eye and a colder forefinger when they at 
 other times required the Baronet's consideration 
 and an order on his Bankers. Hippias was 
 always on the spot, prepared to drink anybody's 
 health. The ladies of the family were hkewise 
 assembled. Notwithstanding their goodwill in 
 seconding the gentlemen, it was a frigid feast. 
 Sir Austin sat in the presence of a phantom. 
 
38 THE ORDEAL OF EICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 He brightened after dinner, as the young heir 
 was trotted in to hear himself toasted. Possibly 
 that was his one happy moment of the year. 
 Mr. Justice Harley, the husband of a Feverel, 
 proposed the toast ; supported by Colonel Went- 
 worth, another husband of a Feverel. The ladies 
 smiled, nodded, and kissed the boy. The Ba- 
 ronet drank him solemnly exuberant. Then a 
 glass of wine is poured out for Master Richard, 
 and his father's one happy moment is over. 
 
 " You have given him port, Algernon," he 
 says. " I think it not good for him." 
 
 " Better accustom him to the best at once," 
 pleads Algernon. 
 
 " A little mulled claret, very weak," the Baro- 
 net suggests. 
 
 " Deprave his young taste? " cries Vivian. 
 
 " Let it be half water," the Baronet falters. 
 
 " Worst thing for his health !" growls Hippias, 
 deep in his second bottle. 
 
 Sir Austin still hesitating, Mr. Justice Harley 
 cites a Greek proverb pointing out the deadliness 
 of water to the soul : Colonel Wentworth comes 
 down on him with a camp-couplet sparkling with 
 the virtues of the pure vintage : minor cousins 
 
MRS. MALEDICTION. 39 
 
 and remote Peverels raise a hum of supplication 
 for the httle gaping fellow. Simultaneously 
 Vivian and Cuthbert announce, that they expect 
 to be thanked in form, and that it 's only once a 
 year. 
 
 " Only once a year ! " echo the ladies. " Only 
 one glass ! " And those born Pagans carry the 
 day. The wine is applied to little Eicky's 
 mouth, who sucks and sucks, winking fearful 
 satisfaction under his father's alarmed eyes, and 
 coughing violently halfway down the glass, which 
 fortunate interposition rescues him from the re- 
 maining portion ; every Eeverel declaring that 
 he does it like a man : whereupon the young heir 
 is kissed half out of his scarlet frock by the wo- 
 men, and, after giving an honest fist to the men 
 all round, and an embrace to his father, marches 
 off* to bed, and stomach-ache. 
 
 It may be conceived, that while Sir Austin 
 could hesitate and permit himself to be over- 
 borne in his judgment of what was good for his 
 son, his System was not yet ripe. In fact, it grew 
 as the boy grew. On Richard's seventh birth- 
 day, it was excited to some definite shape, and 
 was not so pliable. The members of the family 
 
40 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 were at breakfast with little Richard, and Sir 
 Austin had joked his brother-in-law Wentworth 
 on his habit of excessive early rising, as his 
 man had seen the Colonel coming across the Park, 
 apparently from the village, at six in the morn- 
 ing : to which the Colonel carelessly replied, that 
 he could not sleep, and the matter was passing 
 off, when Ricky cries out : " Oh, Papa ! and I 
 couldn't sleep, too ! Oh, you know, I was dream- 
 ing all night long ! And first I dreamed I was a 
 ship sailing on the sea, like Nurse sings. And 
 then I dreamed I was a bird, and flew, and felt 
 so funny — ^just here," traversing his birthday dia- 
 phragm with a finger. " And then I dreamed — 
 what was it ? Oh ! up I started in bed, and 
 there was a beautiful lady ! beautifuller than my 
 Nurse, or you, or you, or you," pointing to his 
 Aunts, '' and she kissed me." 
 
 Sir Austin had Hstened with a pleased atten- 
 tion to his boy's prattle. The mention of the 
 Lady changed his face. 
 
 " Kissed you, my child ? " he asked anxiously. 
 
 " Yes, Papa. On the forehead — here." 
 
 The Baronet turned sharply to his sister. 
 " Have they been talking to him of ghosts ? " 
 
MRS. MALEDICTION. 41 
 
 " Certainly not/' replied Mrs. Doria, " They 
 dared not. I think you had better let it drop, 
 before the children.'' 
 
 Sir Austin held back his son, as the other 
 young ones flew forth to their games, and took 
 him to a window. 
 
 " Kissed you, my son ? v/here ? " 
 
 " Here, Papa." The boy touched the centre 
 of his forehead. 
 
 " And what then ? what did she do then ? " 
 
 "I don't remember any more, Papa. I was 
 so sleepy." 
 
 " You are sure she did not speak to you, my 
 son?" 
 
 " Oh, yes, Papa ! quite sure of that." 
 
 Little Richard had spoken what he knew, but 
 observing an inquiring hesitation linger in his 
 father's eyes, and loath to let it go unsatisfied, he 
 drew upon his imagination instantly, and began 
 to pour forth what he now remembered the Lady 
 next did, and next did, with astounding readi- 
 ness. " And then she stood me up in bed, and 
 said, I could kiss you all to rags, you darling 
 pet — how you 're growing ! And she said, If I 
 had you with me, wouldn't you have nice things. 
 
42 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD EEVEREL. 
 
 And told me she would give me a pony, a better 
 one than you're going to give me, Papa — all 
 white, with a spot between his eyes, and a silver 
 bit, and a gold bridle. And he 's called Prince 
 Jack ! " 
 
 Sir Austin listened credulously to it all, and 
 was only persuaded to let the child follow his 
 playmates, by Mrs. Doria's impetuous assurance 
 that he was ruining his son. 
 
 " Can you not perceive, Austin," she said, 
 " you are teaching him to invent ? '' 
 
 "Helen!" returned the Baronet. "What he 
 has seen, has been seen in this house before, and 
 is not a good omen. I do not perhaps altogether 
 believe in supernatural visitations. Call it an 
 optical delusion. It is in the habit of coming 
 to us when something is about to happen." 
 
 Master Richard threw gallons of cold water 
 on the pleasures of the day by his morning's 
 eloquence, and had his enjoyments thwarted at 
 every turn. His uncle Cuthbert had proposed 
 to take him for a sail on the river. A peremp- 
 tory message arrived just as they were getting 
 ready, that the boy was on no account to go on 
 the water. His tears were dried by the promise 
 
MRS. MALEDICTION. 43 
 
 of a ride on horseback with his uncle Vivian, 
 and the horse was brought round, Vivian in the 
 saddle, and the boy just being lifted up to him, 
 when Sir Austin appeared, and forbade it, to the 
 grief and rage of the poor little fellow. Then 
 he was to have fired off with his own hand some 
 beautiful pieces of small brass cannon, his 
 uncle Algernon's birthday present, and again his 
 father was on the spot, and would only allow 
 him to take hold of Algernon's coat-skirt while 
 the match was applied. On the cricketing field, 
 whither he went later in the day, to witness 
 the match played by the lads of Lobourne, 
 with his uncle Algernon, against the lads of 
 Bursley, and a terrible-swift bowler, his temper 
 was so put to it that he exhibited the gravest 
 sign of a precocious intelligence : he swore. He 
 had requested the favour of an ice : but was 
 begged by his father to consider that it would 
 not agree with him. He petitioned for a cake, 
 and Reason again stept forward, like a detestable 
 friend, to ask him to withstand his inclinations 
 till dinner-time. Ricky bore it. He was in that 
 calm mood when the cup is full. Now fell a Lo- 
 bourne-wicket to Bursley's terrible- swift bowler. 
 
44 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 and, amid cheers from the spectators, Captain 
 Algernon Feverel shouldered his bat, and lei- 
 surely strode to his innings, the Hope of Lo- 
 bourne. He was settling his preliminaries (the 
 most important of which seemed to be to attain 
 the extreme salient posture of his manly person 
 in the eyes of the ladies), when a messenger 
 reached Sir Austin, and spoke a few words to 
 him, who now, jogging his son's hand, said in a 
 cheerful voice ; " Come along, my son ! the Doc- 
 tor is waiting for us." 
 
 " The Doctor !" exclaimed sweet Lady Blan- 
 dish, standing by with her old lord not yet gone. 
 "Whatever can the dear boy want with a 
 Doctor ?" 
 
 "He is seven years old to-day. Madam," re- 
 plied Sir Austin. " I wish him to be examined 
 medically from head to foot, that I may be sure 
 he is physically sound for his second seven-years' 
 march, as he is morally promising." 
 
 The Baronet smiled down on his son, and be- 
 held a cloud not at all morally promising on the 
 brows of him. 
 
 " Come !" he said. 
 
 "No !" cried Richard, releasing his hand. 
 
MRS. MALEDICTION. 45 
 
 " Come !" his father repeated, while his brows 
 went up. 
 
 Richard fell back sullenly. 
 
 " I desire you to come, my boy," said his 
 father, with the gentle severity of a last com- 
 mand. 
 
 And the young seven-year-old, wrought to the 
 furthest pitch of endurance, stamped his foot, and 
 flushed, as he cried, looking his father full in the 
 face, " I won't ! Damned if I do !" 
 
 Of course, he had to go ; but when he came 
 back, approved robust, he was covered with the 
 caresses of the field, and enjoyed an enraptured 
 hug from Lady Blandish : the lady provoking 
 thereby those reflections in The Pilgrim's Scrip, 
 * On the Popularity of the Forbidden Pruit, and 
 the preference we have for it, provided an Inno- 
 cent off'er it us.' 
 
 Little Ricky returned from his Examination 
 in time to witness the Catastrophe of the day. 
 His Uncle Algernon was still in, batting glori- 
 ously : his elegant figure and fine legs deservedly 
 admired by the ladies. A shot from Bursley's 
 terrible- swift bowler took him on the forward 
 thigh, and he was seen limping towards the 
 
46 THE ORDEAL OF EICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 tents with considerable lack of grace, and a rue- 
 fully animated expression. Dr. Clifford of Lo- 
 bourne was present, and perused the bruise. He 
 had him conveyed immediately to the house, 
 where, towards night, it was debated whether 
 there was to be a leg less in the family, as was 
 soon the case. 
 
 "Said I not. Something would happen?" re- 
 marked Sir Austin, not altogether dissatisfied. 
 
 "Oh, confound Mrs. Malediction!" Algernon 
 groaned to Colonel Wentworth. 
 
 " You 're as staunch a believer in her now as 
 Austin," said the Colonel. "It's true that the 
 boy did see a woman." 
 
 " What woman ?" asked Algernon. 
 
 " His mother !" replied the Colonel. 
 
 " Confound the women, then !" cried the poor 
 one-legged Guardsman. 
 
 Colonel Wentworth did not make this revela- 
 tion to Sir Austin, and the latter from that dav 
 incorporated a little of his superstition with his 
 System. 
 
47 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE INMATES OF RAYNHAM ABBEY. 
 
 Richard's Uncles pass out of his history after 
 this sacrifice of a leg for him. Cuthbert, the 
 sailor, perished in a spirited boat-expedition 
 against a slaving Negro-chief up the Niger. 
 Some of the gallant lieutenant's trophies of war 
 decorated the little boy's play-shed at Raynham, 
 and he bequeathed his sword to Richard, whose 
 hero he was. The diplomatist and beau, Vivian, 
 ended his fiutterings from flower to flower by 
 making an improper marriage, as is the fate of 
 many a beau, and was struck out of the list of 
 visitors. Algernon generally occupied the Baro- 
 net's disused Town house, a wretched being, di- 
 viding his time between horse, and card, exercise : 
 possessed, it was said, of the absurd notion, that 
 a man who has lost his balance by losing his 
 leg, may regain it by sticking to the Bottle. At 
 
48 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 least, whenever lie and Hippias got together, 
 they never failed to try whether one leg, or two, 
 stood the Bottle best, and it was known that the 
 ardour of the contest now and then put them 
 both in a position not to require a balance. They 
 were stout drinkers, and the primogenital cellars 
 were not niggard of their stores. Much of a 
 Puritan as Sir Austin was in his habits, he was 
 too good a host, and too thorough a gentleman, 
 to impose them upon his guests. The brothers, 
 and other relatives, might do as they would while 
 they did not disgrace the name, and then it was 
 final: they must depart to behold his countenance 
 no more. 
 
 Algernon Peverel was a simple sort of man, 
 who felt, subsequent to his misfortune, as he had 
 perhaps dimly fancied it before, that his career 
 lay in his legs, and was now irrevocably cut short. 
 He taught the boy boxing, and shooting, and 
 the arts of fence, and superintended the direc- 
 tion of his animal vigour with a melancholy vi- 
 vacity. The remaining energies of Algernon's 
 mind were devoted to animadversions on Swift- 
 bowling. He preached it over the County, 
 struggling through laborious hterary composi- 
 
THE INMATES OF RAYNHAM ABBEY. 49 
 
 tions, addressed to sporting newspapers, on the 
 Decline of Cricket. In Adrian Harley's words, 
 he bored everybody so that he took off the bales 
 of forbearance and knocked down the stumps of 
 Patience. It was Algernon who witnessed and 
 chronicled Richard's first fight, a very plucky 
 combat with young Tom Blaize of Belthorpe 
 Farm, three years the boy's senior, whom, with 
 the aid of Science, he defeated. 
 
 Hippias Peverel was once thought to be the 
 genius of the family. It was his ill luck to have 
 strong appetites and a weak stomach ; and, as 
 one is not altogether fit for the Battle of Life 
 who is engaged in a perpetual contention with 
 his dinner, Hippias forsook his prospects at the 
 Bar, and, in the embraces of dyspepsia, com- 
 piled his ponderous work on the Eairy Mythology 
 of Europe. He had little to do with the Hope 
 of Raynham, beyond what he endured from his 
 juvenile tricks. 
 
 A venerable lady, known as Great- Aunt Grant- 
 ley, who had money to bequeath to the Heir, and 
 whom Adrian called The Eighteenth Century, 
 occupied with Hippias the back ground of the 
 house, and shared her caudles with him. These 
 
 vol . I. E 
 
50 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 two were seldom seen till the dinner-hour, for 
 which they were all day preparing, and probably 
 all night remembering : for The Eighteenth Cen- 
 tury was an admirable trencherman, and cast 
 age aside while there w^as a dish on the table. 
 
 Very much against her will, Mrs. Doria Forey, 
 though the female head of the house, was not 
 allowed to come to the fore, while the System 
 was at work, as she would have done in any other 
 estabhshment but that of the author of the Pil- 
 grim's Scrip. She was the elder of the three 
 sisters of the Baronet, a florid affable woman, 
 with fine teeth, exceedingly fine light wavy hair, 
 a Norman nose, and a reputation for understand- 
 ing men, which, with these practical creatures, 
 always means, the art of managing them. She 
 had married an expectant younger son of a good 
 family, who deceased before fulfilment ; and, 
 casting about in her mind the future chances of 
 her little daughter, and sole child, Clare, she 
 marked down a probability; and the far sight, 
 the deep determination, the resolute perseverance, 
 of her sex, where a daughter is to be provided 
 for, and a man to be overthrown, instigated her 
 to invite herself to Raynham, and, with that 
 
THE INMATES OF UAYNHAM ABBEY. 51 
 
 daughter, she fixed herself there, to watch the 
 System, and sap it. Not that she did not love 
 her brother, Austin ; she thought him an incom- 
 parable man, and tenderly pitied him : but that 
 she deemed the System Nonsense : its interdict 
 against the espousals of cousins. Nonsense : all 
 experiments in education. Nonsense. 
 
 ' Women,' says the Pilgrim's Scrip, ' are, by 
 nature, our staunchest Conservatives. We must 
 look on them as the Bulwarks of Society.' 
 
 Which may, or may not, be true, but is surely 
 in a manner complimentary, and was true in 
 Mrs. Doria's case. She had never forgiven Crom- 
 well the execution of the Martyr Charles ; and 
 to extenuate the conduct of the great Roundhead 
 Captain, was to make Mrs. Doria despise and 
 detest you, if you did not lie direct in her line 
 of tactics for the time being : in which instance 
 she would sigh, and deplore your mistake, and 
 draw melting pictures of the sufferings of her 
 Martyr, and ask you whether you had a heart. 
 Adrian Harley, who sided with the Common- 
 wealth, not from any sympathy, for he abjured 
 politics, as a Wise Youth should, but for the 
 pleasure of taking an adverse view, and to tease 
 
 y^ OF lU- LIB, 
 
52 THE OUDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 her, — him she was, during the first period of 
 her residence at Raynham, inchned for that sole 
 reason to hate, till she perceived his influence 
 with the Baronet, and then she said, lamenting 
 for him, he had no heart : but Austin Went- 
 worth, the Colonel's son, a Repubhcan on prin- 
 ciple, as true a Christian and kindly a spirit as 
 ever walked the earth, who had small influence 
 with the Baronet, she for her sole reason quite 
 hated, and conscientiously damaged him wher- 
 ever she could; not shrinking from frequent 
 hints and amplifications of an unhappy story of 
 the poor youth's, in support of the Cause of her 
 Martyr ; and it is certain that Mrs. Doria's 
 constant insinuations made the Baronet look 
 dubiously on one who was ever his son's best 
 friend. 
 
 Austin's story was of that wretched character 
 which to be comprehended, that justice should 
 be dealt him, must be told out, and openly ; 
 which no one dares now do. 
 
 For a fault in early youth, redeemed by him 
 nobly, according to his light, he was condemned 
 to undergo the world's harsh judgment : not for 
 the fault — for its atonement. 
 
THE INMATES OF RAYNHAM ABBEY. 53 
 
 " — Married his mother's housemaid/' whis- 
 pered Mrs. Doria, with a ghastly look, and a 
 shudder at Republicans. 
 
 And women gave the young man a cold 
 shoulder. Marble-cold they can make that 
 lovely feature of their persons, when they please ; 
 in a way unknown to men. What right had he, 
 for a whim, for a folly, to destroy for ever his 
 prospects? — and theirs? It was true, he was 
 not rich. Still he had an independence. And 
 he was extremely presentable : fair-haired, with 
 a smile sweet as a woman's : gentle as a child : 
 a face set with the seal of a courageous calm : 
 so pure a face that looking on it you seemed to 
 see into his soul. You could not misdoubt him. 
 And he had gone and ruined himself: married 
 that creature ! The world of women turned 
 from him as from a blighted rose. 
 
 ' The compensation for Injustice,' says the 
 Pilgrim's Scrip, ' is, that in that dark Ordeal 
 we gather the worthiest around us.' 
 
 And Lady Blandish, and some few true men 
 and women held Austin Wentworth high. 
 
 " He was, I think — I do not know — mis- 
 taken," the fair widow pleaded for him to the 
 
54 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 Baronet, " but I cannot cannot blame him. It 
 is so rare to meet that nobleness in men." 
 
 Her widow's privilege permitted her to dis- 
 tantly allude to the circumstances of the case. 
 
 Sir Austin was a man to estimate and wel- 
 come nobleness. He ranked it more, and it was 
 more akin to him, than Intellect. Very different 
 for young Richard would it have been had 
 Austin taken his right place in the Baronet's 
 favom* : but Austin had offended against the 
 Baronet's main crotchet : who said, in answ^er 
 to Lady Blandish, that, to ally oneself randomly 
 was to be guilty of a crime before Heaven 
 greater than the offence it sought to extinguish ; 
 and he had heard that his nephew was the one 
 seduced. Wherefore he was doubly foohsh ; a 
 thing in Sir Austin's opinion, he said, almost 
 equal to depravity. 
 
 " Think, Madam," he argued, " think of the 
 children." 
 
 " There may be none," she said. 
 
 " They live apart : the woman is vicious, true," 
 the Baronet resumed. " Think then. Madam — I 
 may speak to you, — think that he, a young man 
 of excellent qualities, has madly disinherited his 
 
THE inm;ates of haynham abbey. 55 
 
 future, and is barren to posterity, while knaves 
 are propagating. I do not forgive him. The no- 
 bler he, the worse his folly. I do not forgive 
 him." 
 
 This it was to look on Life as a Science. 
 
 Adrian Harley, who had no views of his own 
 on the subject, except that it was absurd when 
 you were in the mud to plunge in deeper instead 
 of jumping out, cleverly interpreted his Chief's, 
 and delighted him with swelling periods. 
 
 " Marriage," flourished Adrian, " is more than 
 a creation of the Laws. As the solemn deed of 
 Life, the culminating act of our existence, an 
 anticipation of its ordinances is not to be can- 
 celled by seeking their countenance ; which en- 
 deavour may expose penitence in the offender, 
 but generates for him Retribution rather than 
 Absolution, in lives unborn, misbegotten, in a cal- 
 lous companion, in an outraged future bearing with 
 it a hfe-long ill-assortedness." And so forth. 
 
 Adrian, the Wise Youth Adrian, would never 
 have made such a mistake. Some people are born 
 green : others yellow. Adrian was born yellow. 
 He was always on the ripe sensible side of a 
 question. 
 
56 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD JEVEREL. 
 
 ' In action,' the Pilgrim's Scrip observes, 
 * Wisdom goes by majorities/ 
 
 Adrian had an instinct for the majorities, and 
 as the world invariably found him enlisted in its 
 ranks, his appellation of Wise Youth was gene- 
 rally acquiesced in. 
 
 The Wise Youth, then, had the world with 
 him, but no friends. Nor did he wish for those 
 troublesome appendages of success. He caused 
 himself to be required by people who could 
 serve him ; feared by such as could injure. Not 
 that he wxnt out of the way to secure his end, 
 or risked the expense of a plot. He did the 
 work as easily as he ate his daily bread. Adrian 
 was an Epicurean : one whom Epicurus would 
 have scourged out of his Garden, certainly : an 
 Epicurean of our modern notions. To satisfy his 
 appetites without rashly staking his character, 
 was the Wise Youth's problem for life. He had 
 no intimates save Gibbon and Horace, and the 
 society of these fine aristocrats of literature 
 helped him to accept humanity as it had been, 
 and was ; a Supreme Ironic Procession, with 
 Laughter of Gods in the background. Why 
 not Laughter of Mortals also ? Adrian had his 
 
THE INMATES OF RAYNHAM ABBEY. 57 
 
 laugh in his comfortable corner. He possessed 
 pecuhar attributes of a Heathen God. He was 
 a disposer of men : he was pohshed, luxurious, 
 and happy — at their cost. He lived in eminent 
 self-content, as one lying on soft cloud, lapt in 
 sunshine. Nor Jove, nor Apollo, cast eye upon 
 the maids of earth with cooler fire of selection, 
 or pursued them in the covert with more sacred 
 impunity. And he enjoyed his reputation for 
 virtue, as something additional. Stolen fruits 
 are said to be sweet. Undeserved rewards are 
 very exquisite. 
 
 The best of it was, that Adrian made no pre- 
 tences. He did not solicit the favourable judg- 
 ment of the world. Nature and he attempted 
 no other concealment than the ordinary mask 
 men wear. And yet the world would proclaim 
 him moral, as well as wise, and the pleasing con- 
 verse everyway of his disgraced cousin, Austin. 
 Adrian had a logical contempt for creatures who 
 do things for mere show, as losing, he said, the 
 core of enjoyment for the rind of respectability. 
 The world might find itself in the wrong: it 
 would find him the same. His ambition, within 
 the reserved limits, was to please himself, as being 
 
58 THE ORDEAL OE RICHARD EEVEREL. 
 
 the best judge and the absolute gainer. Placed 
 on Crusoe's Island, his first cry would have been 
 for clean linen : his next for the bill-of-fare : and 
 then, for that Grand Panorama of the Mistress 
 of the World falling to wreck under the barba- 
 rians, which had been the spur and the seal to 
 his mind : twittering Horace in Roman feast- 
 attendant's tunic, twanging his lyre, might charm 
 him to sleep, careless of the morrow, since the 
 day was good. 
 
 In a word Adrian Harley had mastered his 
 philosophy at the early age of one-and-twenty. 
 Many would be glad to say the same at that age 
 twice-told : they carry in their breasts a burden 
 with which Adrian's was not loaded. Mrs. 
 Doria was nearly right about his heart. A sin- 
 gular mishap (at his birth, possibly, or before it) 
 had unseated that organ, and shaken it down to 
 his stomach, where it was a much lighter, nay, 
 an inspiring, weight, and encouraged him merrily 
 onward. Throned in that region, it looked on 
 little that did not arrive to gratify it. Already 
 that region was a trifle prominent in the person 
 of the Wise Youth, and carried, as it were, the 
 flag of his philosophical tenets in front of him. 
 
THE INMATES OF RAYNHAM ABBEY, 59 
 
 A fat Wise Youth, digesting well : charming after 
 dinner, with men, or with women : soft, dimpled, 
 succulent-looking as a sucking-pig: dehghtfully 
 sarcastic : perhaps a little too unscrupulous in 
 his moral tone, but that his moral reputation 
 belied him, and it must be set down to genero- 
 sity of disposition. 
 
 Such was Adrian Harley, another of Sir Aus- 
 tin's intellectual favourites, chosen from mankind 
 to superintend the education of his son at Rayn- 
 ham. Adrian had been destined for the Church. 
 He did not enter into Orders. He and the Ba- 
 ronet had a conference together one day, and 
 from that time Adrian became a fixture in the 
 Abbey. His father, Mr. Justice Harley, died in 
 his promising son's College term, bequeathing 
 him nothing but his legal complexion, and Adrian 
 became stipendiary officer in his Uncle's house- 
 hold. 
 
 The Wise Youth spread out his mind to the 
 System like a piece of blank paper. 
 
 Another chief personage of the establishment 
 was Benson, the butler : Heavy Benson, Adrian 
 called him, from the mace-like fashion with which 
 he wielded his respectability, and the fact of a 
 
60 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 connubial misfortune. The latter had recom- 
 mended him to his patron. Benson was the 
 Great Shaddock Dogma condensed in a look : 
 potential with silence : — a taciturn hater of Wo- 
 man ; burly, flabby, and implacable. In him Sir 
 Austin had his only faithful believer, and Adrian 
 his solitary rival. When, after The Pilgrim's 
 Scrip was published, the fair ladies, its admirers, 
 swarmed down to form a Court at Raynham, 
 they were soon taught to stand in fear of Heavy 
 Benson, who read their object, and, if one by 
 chance got closeted with the Baronet, as they 
 were all seeking to do, a knock was sure to come, 
 and Heavy Benson obtruded his glum person 
 into the room on pressing business, and would 
 not go till he had rescued the prey. As Dragons 
 of old guarded the dwelHngs of beautiful prin- 
 cesses, Heavy Benson stood sentinel over the 
 Baronet. He held the door to them, as they 
 severally departed, and took their discomfiture to 
 his own praise. 
 
 With these intimates young Richard Feverel 
 lived in the great House, unconscious of the tight 
 jacket he was gathering flesh to feel. The System 
 hung loosely on his limbs at first. The Curate 
 
THE INMATES OF RAYNHAM ABBEY. 61 
 
 of Lobourne attended to his rudimentary lessons : 
 a Pap worth being sometimes invited to Raynham 
 to play with him, who said, he was a lucky fellow 
 not to be sent to school, and tried to make the 
 boy think so, for which purpose he had, perhaps, 
 been brought over. Now and then a well-mean- 
 ing friend of Sir Austin's ventured to remonstrate 
 on the dangerous trial he was making in model- 
 ling any new plan of Education for a youth, but 
 the Baronet was firm. He pointed to his son, 
 and said, " Match him." 
 
 Towards his fourteenth year, however, the 
 young Experiment began to grow exceedingly 
 restless. The Curate of Lobourne sent in a re- 
 port that Master Richard's lessons were contu- 
 maciously disregarded : that in his Latin and 
 Greek he was retrograding : in propriety of be- 
 haviour likewise ; for witness, exhibiting a broken 
 slate and a broken window of the room set apart 
 for his studies. Heavy Benson also laid a por- 
 tentous book on the Baronet's table, found by 
 him in Master Richard's bedroom, proving to 
 be a Lempriere, and a rather grave sign in Sir 
 Austin's estimation. 
 
 " What can this be ?" the Baronet meditated, 
 
62 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 and referred to his Note-Book (a famous and 
 much-feared Instrument at Raynham, which held 
 the bare bones of The Pilgrim's Scrip), wherein 
 the youth's progression ary phases were mapped 
 out in sections, from Simple Boyhood to the 
 Blossoming Season, The Magnetic Age, The 
 Period of Probation, from wdiich, successfully 
 passed through, he was to emerge into a Man- 
 hood worthy of Paradise. It was now Simple 
 Boyhood; The Ante-Pomona Stage, as Adrian 
 named it. A slate sent through a window was 
 mere insubordination : a Lempriere in the bed- 
 room looked like precocity, — looked like Pomona 
 in person. Supposing the boy to be precocious, 
 the whole System was disorganized ; based as it 
 was upon concordant Nature, after that saying of 
 The Pilgrim's Scrip : 
 
 'Health is the Body's Virtue : Truth, the 
 Soul's: Valour springs but from the unison of. 
 these twain.' 
 
 Sir Austin consulted with his young Achates, 
 and old Dr. Clifford, w4io were not so perplexed 
 in arriving at a simple conclusion as the philo- 
 sopher, and said, that the boy only wanted com- 
 panions of his own age. 
 
THE INMATES OF RAYNHAM ABBEY. 63 
 
 " Some one to rub his excessive vitality against, 
 you mean ? " ask the Baronet. 
 
 " Ay, Sir," Adrian rephed. " He is now laden 
 with that superabundant energy which makes a 
 fool of a man, and a scapegrace of a boy, and he 
 wants to work it off." 
 
 " Too much Health," added the Doctor, " is 
 inductive Disease." 
 
 " Scarcely sound. Scarcely sound," remarked 
 the Baronet, " on that ground you tolerate much. 
 You give human nature but a short tether. Our 
 Virtues, then, are pigmies. Doctor, that daren't 
 grow for fear of the sty?" 
 
 " Circe looks out for strapping fellows, I 
 fancy," said Adrian, and closed the session with 
 laughter. 
 
 Sir Austin continued to meditate some days^ 
 and then requested the Wise Youth's advice on a 
 proposition conceived by him, to have a boy of 
 Richard's age to stay with him in the house and 
 be his comrade. 
 
 " I think your idea excellent," said Adrian, 
 giving him all the credit of it. " And I know 
 the very boy that will suit. Thompson, your 
 solicitor, has a son. Poor fellow ! only one, I 
 
64 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 believe, and about a dozen girls with parchment 
 exteriors and snub noses. The whole family 's a 
 genesis of sheepskin. But they're well brought 
 up. You might try the lad, Sir. The Thomp- 
 sons stuck by my father in his Brief days." 
 
 Sir Austin determined to try the lad whose 
 sisters were so innocuous. A message was for- 
 warded to Mr. Thompson, for the loan of his 
 son for a term ; and, his son's holidays being in 
 that season, his son was, in compliance, joyfully 
 packed down to Raynham Abbey, big with anti- 
 cipations of aristocratic intimacies. In this way 
 Richard was gifted with a comrade, and Master 
 Ripton Thompson became an inmate of Rayn- 
 ham. 
 
 Master Ripton Thompson was quite a common 
 boy; shy, and awkward, and prepared to be 
 totally subservient to the young Prince whose 
 Court he had come to. His hair and his eyes 
 were of no colour, and everybody said, there was 
 nothing in him; to which Mrs. Doria excepted 
 ' sound principle,' finding that he had the proper 
 Old Lawyer's view of Life and History, and 
 sincerely thought her Charles a Martyr. Sound 
 principle was all Sir Austin required of him in 
 
THE INMATES OF RATNHAM ABBEY. 65 
 
 his probational contact with the Hope of Rayn- 
 ham. The two boys soon assumed their relative 
 positions. Richard led, and Ripton followed. 
 Ripton thought one or two things in his leader 
 father odd : for instance, his proficiency in manly 
 sports and exercises, joined to his habit of call- 
 ing his father, Papa, and not Governor, and his 
 entire ignorance about the ways of the girls, and 
 indifference to them; but he concealed his sur- 
 prise, having been primed by his parents to be- 
 have acquiescently, whatever he saw to astonish 
 him. 
 
 On the morning of the fourteenth birthday, 
 Ripton had to stow away loud bursts of laughter 
 in the capacious sleeve his provident parents had 
 furnished him with. The day was to be a great 
 day. The boys were to join the Lobourne Eleven 
 against swift-bowling Bursley: dinner on the 
 field ; fireworks at night . supper in the Hall : 
 the Cornucopia of Raynham Abbey playing on 
 them exhaustlessly from morning to night. If 
 this were the System, Ripton thought it a fine 
 thing. He was standing waiting for the favoured 
 boy on the gravel-walk fronting the breakfast- 
 room from which he had escaped five minutes 
 
 VOL. T. F 
 
66 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 before, when forth started Richard, and, catching 
 him by the arm, bore him hurriedly towards 
 the darkest corner of the clustered beeches, and 
 then told him, he would see nobody — he would 
 leave Raynham — he would quit the country, if 
 he could — be a sailor — a cabin-boy — a common 
 soldier — anything, that he might never be seen 
 there again. All this he uttered between a 
 gnawing of the lips, and a blinking of the eyes, 
 a flushing of the cheeks, and a clenching of the 
 fists, showing a frenzy of shamefacedness. He 
 seemed in the gripe of his birthday devil, as 
 they called it at Raynham, where, till that day, 
 he was generally a brisk happy boy. 
 
 Ripton kindly endeavoured to console him, 
 but was silenced by a fiercer repetition of the 
 threats. 
 
 " Well, then — what is it?" Ripton jerked out 
 at last. " What ever 's the matter ?" 
 
 " I have been insulted," cried Richard ; " in- 
 sulted by my own father. Lucky it wasn't any- 
 one else ! Come along !" and he dragged Ripton 
 further into the covert. 
 
 "But what is it?" asked Ripton once more, 
 when he could grasp at a halt. " You may as 
 well tell a friend." 
 
THE INMATES OF RAYNHAM ABBEY. 67 
 
 "I tell you I've been insulted! Isn't that 
 enough?" Richard replied. " Come along !" and 
 Ripton had to resume his trot. 
 
 By-and-by, after deep dark hints, under the 
 deepest darkest shelter of the foliage, the inti- 
 macy of boys brought it all out. 
 
 Sir Austin had asked his son to submit to me- 
 dical examination, and strip ! 
 
 " Don't laugh !" shouted Richard menacingly, 
 as he saw the great mute O of Ripton's mouth 
 stretch its length towards explosion. 
 
 With an effort that cost him tears, Ripton 
 swallowed his guffaw. 
 
 " And don't speak of it, or allude to it, if you 
 do n't wish mortally to offend me," said the out- 
 raged youth. *' Come along !" and poor Ripton 
 was soon far from the preparations for the fes- 
 tivities dear to his ears. 
 
 The author of the System sat in his study 
 with old Dr. Clifford, much aggrieved. 
 
 " A boy who has no voice but mine. Doctor," 
 he said ; " whose spirit is clear to me as day — 
 he enters another Circle of nature, and I require 
 to be assured of his bodily well-being, and this 
 boy, educated in the seclusion of a girl, refuses — 
 nay, swears he will not." 
 
6S THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 " Erom wliicli, my dear Sir Austin, you have 
 to learn, that your son is no longer a child/' was 
 the Doctor's comment. 
 
 " A beautiful shamelessness is not necessarily 
 dependent upon a state of childhood," returned 
 the Baronet. " In a boy properly looked to, as 
 this boy has been, there should not be the most 
 distant sense of indelicacy in such a request. 
 He registers revolt, too, with an oath : — The old 
 way ! The moment he breaks from me, in a 
 moment he is like the world, and claims Cousin- 
 ship with an oath for his password." 
 
 Sir Austin put a finger to his temple and 
 stared at the fire. 
 
 "What do you attribute it to, Doctor?" he 
 asked presently. 
 
 " The System, Sir," quietly replied the Doctor. 
 
 " Excellent !" Sir Austin exclaimed. " It is I 
 who teach him bad language?" 
 
 " At a school," said the Doctor, " there are 
 the two extremes : good boys, and the reverse. 
 Your son does not see that distinction here. He 
 is a heathen as to right and wrong. Good from 
 instinct — not from principle : a creature of im- 
 pulse. A noble lad, I admit, but — you know, I 
 
THE INMATES OF RAYNHAM ABBEY. 69 
 
 am of the old school, Sir Austm. I like boys to 
 be boys, and mix together. Christians are not 
 born in hermitages." 
 
 " Very well said, Doctor !" remarked the Ba- 
 ronet, always alive to a phrase, even in his tri- 
 bulation. " A spice of the Devil, then, is neces- 
 sary for a Christian?" 
 
 Dr. Clifford stroked his chin. " I don't say 
 that," he replied. " But I don't mind saying that 
 a fair stand-up fight with him is." 
 
 "For a boy, Doctor?" 
 
 " For a boy. Sir Austin. He can't have it out 
 too soon." 
 
 "Listen, Doctor," said the Baronet, after 
 turning in his chair uneasily two or three times. 
 
 " I think you none of you understand my Sy- 
 stem. My good Doctor ! I am not preparing 
 my son to avoid the fight. I know it is inevitable. 
 I brace him for the struggle." 
 
 "By keeping him out of his element?" quoth 
 the Doctor. 
 
 " By giving him all the advantages of Science," 
 Sir Austin emphasized. " By training him. Our 
 theory is the same, with this difierence : that you 
 set the struggle down at an earlier date than do 
 
70 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVERED. 
 
 I. It may be true I sacrifice two or three little 
 advantages in isolating him at present : he will 
 be the better fortified for his trial to come. You 
 know my opinion, Doctor : we are pretty secure 
 from the Serpent till Eve sides with him. I 
 speak, of course, of a youth of good pure blood." 
 
 " I don't think the schools w^ould harm such a 
 youth," said the Doctor. 
 
 "The schools are corrupt!" said the Baronet. 
 
 Dr. Clifford could not help thinking there 
 were other temptations than that one of Eve. 
 For youths and for men, Sir Austin told him, 
 She w^as the main bait : the sole to be dreaded 
 for a youth of good pure blood : the main to 
 resist. 
 
 Dr. Clifford inquired whether it was good for 
 such a youth to be half a girl? Whereat Sir 
 Austin smiled a laugh. 
 
 "You see him one instant a shamefaced girl, 
 and the next, a headlong boy," the Doctor ex- 
 plained. " Is that good ?" 
 
 " Yes, yes ; I caught your meaning," said Sir 
 Austin. " You suppose shame to be the pro- 
 perty of innocence, and therefore of womankind. 
 A wonderful double deduction !" He went into 
 
THE INMATES OF RAYNHAM ABBEY. 71 
 
 scientific particulars which would reduce the 
 reader to greater confusion that it did the Doc- 
 tor. They then fell upon the question of Ri- 
 chard's marrying. 
 
 " He shall not marry till he is thirty !" was 
 the Baronet's Spartan Law. 
 
 '' He need not marry at all," said Dr. Clifford. 
 " Birth and death are natural accidents : Mar- 
 riage we can avoid !" The Doctor had been 
 jilted by a naughty damsel. 
 
 "On my System he must marry," said the 
 Baronet, and again dissected the frame of man, 
 and entered into scientific particulars : ending 
 their colloquy, " However ! I thank you. Doctor, 
 for speaking as you think, and the proof that I 
 know how to profit by it, is seen in my admis- 
 sion of the boy, Thompson, to my household. 
 Perhaps our only difference, after all, is not a 
 pathologic one. I acknowledge your diagnosis, 
 but mollify the prescription. I give the poison 
 to my son in small doses ; whereas you prescribe 
 large ones. You naturally contend with a ho- 
 moeopathist — Eh? You are inimical to that 
 heresy?" 
 
 " With your permission, Sir Austin, I hate 
 
72 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 that humbug." The Doctor nodded grimly, and 
 the Baronet laughed, in his stiff way, to have 
 turned the tables on his staunch old adversary, 
 calling him forth into the air to look after the 
 boy, and inspect the preparations for his day's 
 pleasure. 
 
73 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 SHOWING HOW THE TATES SELECTED THE EOUR- 
 TEENTH BIUTHDAY TO THY THE STRENGTH OE 
 THE SYSTEM. 
 
 October shone royally on this day of the com- 
 pletion of the Second Seven years' march of the 
 Hope of Raynham. The brown beechwoods and 
 golden birches glowed to a briUiant sun. Banks 
 of moveless cloud hung about the horizon, 
 mounded to the West, where slept the wind. 
 Promise of a great day for Raynham, as it 
 proved to be, though not in the manner Rayn- 
 ham had marked out. 
 
 Already archery booths and cricketing tents 
 were rising on the lower grounds towards the 
 river, whither the lads of Bursley and Lobourne, 
 in boats and in carts, shouting for a day of ale 
 and honour, jogged merrily to match themselves 
 anew, and pluck at the living laurel from each 
 
74 THE ORDEAL OE RICHAUD FEVEREL. 
 
 other's brows, like manly Britons. The whole 
 park was beginning to be astir and resound 
 with holiday cries. Sir Austin Feverel, a tho- 
 rough good Tory, was no game-preserver, and 
 could be popular whenever he chose, which Sir 
 Miles Papworth, a fast-handed Whig and terror 
 to poachers, never could be. Half the village of 
 Lobourne was seen trooping through the avenues 
 of the park. Fiddlers and gypsies clamoured at 
 the gates for admission : white smocks, and slate, 
 surmounted by hats of serious brim, and now 
 and then a scarlet cloak, smacking of the old 
 country, dotted the grassy sweeps to the levels. 
 
 And all the time the star of these festivities 
 was receding further and further, and eclipsing 
 himself with his reluctant serf, Ripton, who kept 
 asking, what they were to do, and where they 
 were going, and how late it was in the day, and 
 suggesting that the lads of Lobourne would be 
 calling out for them, and Sir Austin requiring 
 their presence, without getting any attention 
 paid to his misery or remonstrances. For in 
 Richard's bosom a fate was working, and the 
 shame of the insult, as he thought it, rankled. 
 
 Now it happened that, as the two boys wan- 
 
THE FOURTEENTH BIRTHDAY. 75 
 
 dered kicking the clods disconsolately, they start- 
 ed a pheasant. The bird, with its fellow in the 
 brake, drummed, and whirred, and to the mis- 
 fortune of its species made its plumage seem a 
 prize to them. 
 
 " I know what we'll do," cries Richard, his fea- 
 tures suddenly lighting up, " we'll have a day's 
 shooting ! We'll shoot all day, and we won't go 
 home till night." 
 
 He turned to his friend to see how his pro- 
 posal was received. Master Ripton, whose mind 
 was set on Raynham and the fun there, listened 
 but half cheerfully, and hinted that any other 
 day would do for shooting. 
 
 "No!" said Richard, ''look what a day it is. 
 We shall kill lots of birds, and give everybody 
 the slip. You'll have a gun and I '11 have a gun, 
 and we'll have better fun than any of them at 
 Raynham. Come along!" And he made Rip- 
 ton moodily retrace his steps. It seemed mad 
 and stupid to Ripton's sense of reason, but he 
 was a bondsman and bound to acquiesce. He 
 mumbled something about not having a license, 
 and was putting that in for a plea against the 
 expedition, till Richard assured him positively 
 
76 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 that every gentleman had a license, and Ripton, 
 who deeply delighted in the notion of belonging 
 to that privileged class, and walked with tight 
 boots, and underwent daily tortures, to induce 
 the world to accept him as one, admitted it was 
 the case that every gentleman had a license, and 
 therefore he must have one. 
 
 So back they ran to the Abbey, dodged the 
 Baronet, armed themselves, got the old pointer 
 Mark'em (named after his profession and the 
 keeper at a blow) close to their heels, and, by 
 skirting outhouses and slinking under walls, es- 
 caped in the security that favours the commence- 
 ment of adventures of this sort, and made for 
 the coverts of the park. 
 
 Rearward of the Abbey lay a lake that took 
 the morning sun, and the shadow of a solitary 
 cypress, planted by some sad-minded Ancestress. 
 The boys had to round the lake before they could 
 plunge into perfect concealment, and as they did 
 so, Richard cried out, " Look ! do you see how 
 that shadow follows me? — just look." 
 
 Ripton cast a dissatisfied eye on the phenome- 
 non, not a whit inclined to express any wonder, 
 if he felt it. 
 
THE FOURTEENTH BIRTHDAY. 77 
 
 " Do you see it, Rip ?" Richard moved for- 
 ward and back on the brink of the lake, pre- 
 tending that the reflection of the cypress pointed 
 after him. 
 
 " What do you think !" he continued. " They 
 say in our family that when we any of us come 
 across it in this way — like this, look ! — there 's 
 going to be mischief. My father doesn't believe 
 in that kind of thing : nor more do I. But it 's 
 strange, isn't it ? Look !" The boy held to the 
 spot like one fascinated. "It 's true my great- 
 grandfather. Sir Algernon Feverel, noticed it 
 pointing at him as he passed the morning he 
 fought the duel, and was killed. And he went 
 half round the lake. Of course I don't believe 
 there's anything in it. Do you ?" 
 
 Ripton said, he did not, because all shadows 
 seemed to do the same, in a modified way : but 
 there, Richard assured him, he was wrong, as 
 this cypress was the only tree ever known to do 
 it. 
 
 " Though I don't believe it means anything," 
 he added. " Mind you hold your gun properly 
 and don't shoot me, and I '11 take care I don't 
 shoot you. If we get lots of birds we '11 take 
 
78 THE ORDEAL OE RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 some over to Lady Blandish to-morrow, and 
 slie '11 ask us to dine there, and she has capital 
 wine, and no Benson, and all sorts of fun, and 
 you may do as you like there." 
 
 " Any girls ?" asked Ripton. 
 
 " I don't know." The young gentleman was 
 violently contemptuous in his reply. 
 
 They entered the wood, and from its eastern 
 border could see the people of Lobourne troop- 
 ing along the main road to Baynham : horsemen 
 and horsewomen ; carriages, carts, cricketers, 
 from whose entertainment the heart was running 
 away. He had a little touch of compunction as 
 he beheld them ; but immediately putting the 
 blame on his father, branched off in a contrary 
 direction, and so eulogized the house of Lady 
 Blandish to Ripton, and the reception she would 
 give them and their bu-ds to-morrow, that the 
 unlucky youth began to get consoled. Richard 
 shouldered his own gun, a light single-barrel, 
 suitable for his years. Ripton had made free 
 with Captain Feverel's. He was rather short- 
 sighted and inexperienced in guns, though it 
 was out of the question he should admit the fact, 
 every gentleman being familiar with guns from 
 
THE FOURTEENTH BIRTHDAY. 79 
 
 his birth. It was not in bravado that he carried 
 a rifle instead of a fowHng-piece. Both boys 
 were warming at the prospect of sport. Old 
 Mark'em joined in the conspiracy nose and tail ; 
 a dog's equivalent for heart and soul ; generally 
 one as good. 
 
 " Are you a prime shot?" said Richard. 
 
 Ripton nodded knowingly, and answered, 
 " Pretty good." 
 
 " Then we'll have a dozen brace apiece to-day," 
 said Richard. 
 
 On nosed old Mark'em, bent upon work. Out 
 of the wood into a field of stubble, and on- 
 ward they w^ent at a trot, and down plumped 
 old Mark'em, true as the needle to the pole. 
 Then the cat-like steps of the juvenile sportsmen 
 were fine to see. Ripton surpassed his comrade 
 in velvety paw and professional attitude, crouch- 
 ing his body in the most hopeful manner. But 
 when this moment of exquisite expectancy was 
 cut short by the birds rising, the hapless youth 
 suddenly remembered he had forgotten to load. 
 Earth reeled round his figure of confusion as 
 Richard fired. He fired, but old Mark'em made 
 no blithe bounds in advance. The sagacious old 
 
80 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 dog looked sulky and disgusted. A dead miss ! 
 Eichard reproached his friend bitterly. 
 
 " Why did you bawl out just as I was aiming ? 
 Who can aim with a fellow bawling in his ear ? 
 I've lost the birds through it. At least I should 
 have had one of the two." 
 
 Ripton explained humbly that he had forgotten 
 to load. 
 
 "Always load at home," said Richard. " Then 
 you're ready for anything. And don't make that 
 noise another time." 
 
 His eye fell on the instrument Ripton carried 
 to make war on the feathery creation, and he 
 recognized his Uncle's rifle. 
 
 "Do you know what you 've got in your 
 hands ?" he said. 
 
 " I think it 's not the right gun," stammered 
 Ripton. 
 
 " You tliinh it 's not ! Well ! You must be 
 accustomed to sport." 
 
 He looked scornfully, and the next minute 
 called his friend, Ripton, a fool. 
 
 Now Ripton was not in the best of tempers. 
 He was a disappointed boy that morning, and a 
 Briton in bondage — a very dangerous animal at 
 all times. Richard had added the emphasis of 
 
THE FOURTEENTH BIRTHDAY. 81 
 
 conviction to the insulting epithet. A boy does 
 not like to be called a fool, and is usually ready 
 to try the question with his fists when a doubt is 
 once cast on him ; as of old Valour asserted the 
 spotlessness of fair dames ; and if he conquers it 
 is clear that he cannot be a fool. These primi- 
 tive courts of appeal despise casuistries. 
 
 Peeling that circumstances were making him 
 look wonderfully like one, Ripton lifted his head 
 and retorted defiantly, " I 'm not !" 
 
 This angry contradiction, so very uncalled-for, 
 offended Richard, who was still smarting at the 
 loss of his birds, and was really the injured party. 
 He therefore bestowed the abusive epithet on Rip- 
 ton anew, and with increase of emphasis. 
 
 " You shan't call me so, then, whether I am 
 or not," says Ripton, and sucks his lips, looking 
 wicked. 
 
 This was becoming personal. Richard sent 
 up his brows, and stared at his defier an instant. 
 He then informed him that he certainly should 
 call him so, and would not object to call him so 
 twenty times. 
 
 " Do it, and see !" returns Ripton, rocking on 
 his pins, and breathing quick. 
 
 VOL. I. G 
 
82 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 With a gravity of which only boys and other 
 barbarians are capable, Richard went through 
 the entire number stressing the epithet to in- 
 crease the defiance and avoid monotony, as he 
 progressed, while Ripton bobbed his head every 
 time in assent, as it were, to his comrade's accu- 
 racy, and as a record for his profound humilia- 
 tion. Old Mark'em gazed at the extraordinary 
 performance with interrogating wags of the tail. 
 
 Twenty times, duly and deliberately, Richard 
 repeated the obnoxious word. 
 
 At the twentieth solenm iteration of Ripton's 
 capital shortcoming, old Mark'em started up to 
 action. Ripton had delivered a smart back- 
 hander on Richard's mouth, and squared preci- 
 pitately ; perhaps sorry when the deed was done, 
 for he was a kind-hearted lad, and as Richard 
 simply bowed in acknowledgment of the blow, 
 he thought he had gone too far. He did not 
 know the young gentleman he was dealing with. 
 Richard was extremely cool. 
 
 " Shall we fight here ? " he said. 
 
 " Anywhere you like," replied Ripton. 
 
 " A little more into the wood, I think. We 
 may be interrupted." And Richard led the way 
 
THE FOURTEENTH BIRTHDAY. 83 
 
 with a courteous reserve that somewhat chilled 
 Ripton's ardour for the contest. On the skirts 
 of the wood, Richard threw off his jacket and 
 waistcoat, and, quite collected, waited for Ripton 
 to do the same. The latter boy was flushed and 
 restless; older and broader, but not so tight- 
 limbed and w^ell-set. The gods, sole witnesses of 
 their battle, betted dead against him. Richard 
 had mounted the white cockade of the Feve- 
 rels, and there was a look in him that asked for 
 tough work to extinguish. His brows, slightly 
 lined upward at the temples, converging to a 
 knot about the well-set straight nose; his full 
 grey eyes, open nostrils, and planted feet, and a 
 gentlemanly air of calm and alertness, formed a 
 spirited picture of a young combatant. As for 
 Ripton, he was all abroad, and fought in school- 
 boy style : that is, he rushed at the foe head 
 foremost, and struck like a windmill. He was a 
 lumpy boy. When he did hit, he made himself 
 felt ; but he was at the mercy of Science. To 
 see him come dashing in, blinking, and puffing, 
 and whirling his arms abroad while the felling 
 blow went straight between them, you perceived 
 that he was fighting a fight of desperation, and 
 knew it. For the dreaded alternative glared him 
 
84 THE ORDEAL OP RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 in the face that, if he yielded, he must look like 
 what he had been Twenty Times calumniously 
 called; and he would die rather than yield, and 
 swing his windmill till he dropped. Poor boy ! 
 he dropped pretty frequently. The gallant fellow 
 fought for appearances, and down he went. The 
 gods favour one of two parties. Prince Turnus 
 was a noble youth ; but he had not Pallas at his 
 elbow. Ripton was a capital boy, but he had no 
 Science. Minerva turned her back on him. He 
 c ould not, could not prove he was not a fool ! 
 When one comes to think of it, Ripton did choose 
 the only possible way, and we should all of us 
 have considerable difficulty in proving the nega- 
 tive by any other. Ripton came on the unerring 
 fist again and again, and if it was true, as he said 
 in short colloquial gasps, that he required as 
 much beating as an e^g to.be beaten thoroughly, 
 a fortunate interruption alone saved our friend 
 f]'om resembling that substance. The boys heard 
 summoning voices, and beheld Mr. Morton of 
 Poer Hall and Austin Wentworth stepping to- 
 wards them. 
 
 A truce was sounded, jackets were caught-up, 
 guns shouldered, and off they trotted in concert 
 through the depths of the wood, not stopping till 
 
THE FOURTEENTH BIRTHDAY. 85 
 
 that and lialf-a> dozen fields and a larch plantation 
 were well behind them. 
 
 When they halted to take breath, there was a 
 mutual study of faces. Ripton's was much disco- 
 loured and looked fiercer with its natural war- 
 paint than the boy felt. Nevertheless he squared 
 up dauntlessly on the new ground, and Richard, 
 whose wrath was appeased, could not refrain 
 from asking him whether he had not really had 
 enough. 
 
 " Never ! " shouts the noble enemy. 
 
 " Well, look here," said Richard, appealing to 
 common sense, " I'm tired of knocking you down. 
 I'll say you're not a fool, if you'll give me your 
 hand." 
 
 Ripton demurred an instant to consult with 
 Honour, who bade him catch at his chance. 
 
 He held out his hand. " There ! " and the 
 boys grasped hands and were fast friends. Rip- 
 ton had gained his point, and Richard decidedly 
 had the best of it. So they were on equal 
 ground. Both could claim a victory, which was 
 all the better for their friendship. 
 
 Ripton washed his face and comforted his nose 
 at a brook, and was now ready to follow his 
 
86 THE ORDEAL OF RICHAUD FEVEREL. 
 
 friend wherever lie cliose to lead. They conti- 
 nued to beat about for birds. The birds on the 
 Raynham estates were found singularly cunning, 
 and repeatedly eluded the aim of these prime 
 shots, so they pushed their expedition into the 
 lands of their neighbours, in search of a stupider 
 race, happily oblivious of the laws and conditions 
 of trespass : unconscious too that they were poach- 
 ing on the demesne of the notorious farmer Blaize, 
 the free-trade farmer under the shield of the 
 Papworths, parent of Richard's first defeated foe, 
 and no worshiper of the Griffin between Two 
 Wheatsheaves : destined to be much allied with 
 Richard's fortunes from beginning to end. Far- 
 mer Blaize hated poachers, and especially young 
 chaps poaching, who did it mostly from impu- 
 dence. Parmer Blaize heard the audacious shots 
 popping right and left, and going forth to have a 
 glimpse at the intruders, and observing their size, 
 swore he would teach my gentlemen a thing, lords 
 or no lords. 
 
 Richard had brought down a beautiful cock- 
 pheasant, and was exulting over it, when the far- 
 mer's portentous figure burst upon them, crack- 
 ing an avenging horsewhip. His salute was iro- 
 nical. 
 
THE FOURTEENTH BIRTHDAY. 87 
 
 " Havin' good sport, gentlemen, are ye ? " 
 
 " Just bagged a splendid bird ! '' radiant Ri- 
 chard informed him. 
 
 " Oh ! y' ave ! " Farmer Blaize gave an admo- 
 nitory flick of the whip. *' Jest let me clap eye 
 on 't, then." 
 
 " Say, please," interposed Ripton, who, not 
 being the possessor of the bird, was not blind to 
 doubtful aspects. 
 
 Farmer Blaize threw up his chin, and grinned 
 grim. 
 
 " Please to yew, Sir ? Why, my chap, yew 
 looks as if ye din't much mind what come t' yer 
 nose, I reckon. Yew looks an old poacher, yew 
 do. Tall ye what 'tis I " He changed his banter 
 to business, " bird 's mine ! Now yew jest hand 
 'un over, and sheer off, ye dam young scoun- 
 drels ! I knows ye ! " And he became exceed- 
 ingly opprobrious and uttered contempt at the 
 name of Feverel. 
 
 Richard opened his eyes. 
 
 "If ye wants to be horse'upp'd, ye '11 stay 
 where y'are !" continued the farmer irate. "Giles 
 Blaize never stands no nonsense ! " 
 
 " Then we'll stay," quoth Richard. 
 
88 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 " Good 1 SO be 't ! If ye wull have 't, have 't, 
 my men ! Have 't, ye young suckin' poachers !" 
 
 As a preparatory measure, Farraer Blaize 
 seized a wmg of the bird, on which both boys 
 flung themselves desperately, and secured it 
 minus the pinion. 
 
 " That 's your game," cried the farmer. 
 " Here 's a taste of horse'up for ye. I never 
 stands no nonsense," and sweetch went the 
 mighty whip, well swayed. The boys tried to 
 close with him. He kept his distance, and 
 lashed without mercy. Black blood made Far- 
 mer Blaize that day ! The boys wriggled, in 
 spite of themselves. It was like a relentless 
 serpent coiling, and biting, and stinging their 
 young veins to madness. Probably the boys 
 felt the disgrace of the contortions they were 
 made to go through, more than the pain, but 
 the pain was fierce, for the farmer laid about 
 from a practised arm, and did not consider that 
 he had done enough till he was well breathed 
 and his ruddy jowl inflamed. He paused, to 
 receive the remainder of the cock-pheasant in 
 his face. 
 
 " Take your beastly bird," cried Richard. 
 
THE FOURTEENTH BIRTHDAY. 89 
 
 " Money, my lads, and interest," roared the 
 farmer, lashing out again. 
 
 Shameful as it was to retreat, there was but 
 that course open to them. They decided to sur- 
 render the field. 
 
 " Look ! you big brute," Richard shook his 
 gun^ hoarse with passion, " I 'd have shot you, 
 if I 'd been loaded. Mind ! if I come across 
 you when I'm loaded, you coward ! I '11 fire." 
 
 The un-Enghsh nature of this threat exas- 
 perated Farmer Blaize, and he pressed the pur- 
 suit in time to bestow a few farewell stripes as 
 they were escaping, tight-breeched, into neutral 
 territory. At the hedge they parleyed a minute, 
 the farmer to inquire if they had had a mortal 
 good tanning and were satisfied, for when they 
 wanted a further instalment of the same, they 
 were to come for it to Belthorpe Farm, and 
 there it was in pickle : the boys meantime ex- 
 ploding in menaces and threats of vengeance, 
 on which the farmer contemptuously turned his 
 back. Ripton had already stocked an arinfull of 
 flints for the enjoyment of a little skirmishing. 
 Richard, however, knocked them all out, saying, 
 " No ! a gentleman don't fling stones : leave that 
 to the blackguards." 
 
90 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 " Just one shy at him ? " pleaded Ripton, with 
 his eye on Parmer Blaize's broad mark, and his 
 whole mind drunken with a sudden revelation of 
 the advantages of light troops in opposition to 
 heavies. 
 
 " No," said Richard, imperatively, " no stones," 
 and marched briskly away. Ripton followed 
 with a sigh. His leader's magnanimity was 
 wholly beyond him. A good spanking mark at 
 the farmer would have relieved Master Ripton : 
 it would have done nothing to console Richard 
 Feverel for the ignominy he had been compelled 
 to submit to. Ripton was familiar with the rod, 
 a monster much despoiled of his terrors by inti- 
 macy. Birch-fever was past with this boy. The 
 horrible sense of shame, self-loathing, universal 
 hatred, impotent vengeance, as if the spirit were 
 steeped in abysmal blackness, which comes upon 
 a courageous and sensitive youth condemned for 
 the first time to taste this piece of fleshly bit- 
 terness and suffer what he feels is ajdefilement, 
 Ripton had weathered, and forgotten. He was 
 seasoned wood, and took the world pretty wisely; 
 not reckless of castigation, as some boys become, 
 nor over-sensitive as to dishonour, as his friend 
 and comrade beside him was. 
 
THE FOURTEENTH BIRTHDAY. 91 
 
 Richard's blood was poisoned. He had the 
 fever on him severely. He would not allow 
 stone-flinging, because it was a habit of his to 
 discountenance it. Mere gentlemanly conside- 
 rations had scarce shielded Parmer Blaize, and 
 certain very ungentlemanly schemes were coming 
 to ghastly heads in the tumult of his brain ; 
 rejected solely from their glaring impracticabiHty 
 even to his young intelligence. A sweeping and 
 consummate vengeance for the indignity alone 
 should satisfy him. Something tremendous must 
 be done, and done without delay. At one 
 moment he thought of killing all the farmer's 
 cattle : next of killing him ; challenging him to 
 single combat with the arms, and according to 
 the fashion, of gentlemen. But the farmer was 
 a coward ; he would refuse. Then he, Richard 
 Peverel, would stand by the farmer's bedside, 
 and rouse him ; rouse him to fight with powder 
 and ball in his own chamber, in the cowardly 
 midnight, where he might tremble, but dare not 
 refuse. 
 
 " Lord ! " cried simple Ripton, while these 
 hopeful plots were raging in his comrade's brain, 
 now sparkling for immediate execution, and 
 
92 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD EEVEREL. 
 
 anon lapsing disdainfully dark in their chances 
 of fulfilment, " liuw I wish you 'd have let me 
 notch him, Ricky ! — I 'm a safe shot. I never 
 miss. I should feel quite jolly, if I 'd spanked 
 him once. AVe should have had the best of him 
 at that game. — I say ! " and a sharp thought 
 drew Ripton's ideas nearer home : " I wonder 
 whether my nose is as bad as he says ? Where 
 can I see myself? Gracious ! what shall I do 
 when we get to Raynham, if it is? What '11 
 the ladies think of me ? Lord, Ricky ! sup- 
 pose it turns blue ? " 
 
 Ripton moved a meditative forefinger down 
 the bridge of his nose, as this horrible suspi- 
 cion clouded him. Farmer Blaize passed from his 
 mind. The wretched boy called aloud in agony 
 that his nose was turning blue. " Oh, if I had 
 a bit of raw meat to lay across it ! " he cried. 
 " AVliat a fool I was to fight ! — Won't I learn 
 boxing!— What shall I look like?" To these 
 doleful exclamations Richard was deaf, and 
 trudged steadily forward, facing but one ob- 
 ject. 
 
 After tearing through innumerable hedges, 
 leaping fences, jumping dykes, penetrating bram- 
 
 r 
 
THE FOUflTEENTH BIRTHDAY. 93 
 
 bly copses, and getting dirty, ragged, and tired, 
 Ripton awoke from his dream of Parmer Blaize 
 and a blue nose, to the vivid consciousness of 
 hunger; and this consciousness grew with the 
 rapidity of Hght upon him, till in the course of 
 another minute he was enduring the extremes 
 of famine, and ventured to question his leader 
 whither he was being conducted. Raynham was 
 out of sight. They were a long way down the 
 valley, miles from Lobourne, in a country of sour 
 pools, yellow brooks, rank pasturage, desolate 
 heath. Solitary cows were seen ; the smoke of 
 a mud-cottage ; a cart piled with peat ; a donkey 
 grazing at leisure, oblivious of an unkind world ; 
 geese by a horsepond, gabbling as in the first 
 loneliness of Creation : uncooked things that a 
 famishing boy cannot possibly care for, and must 
 despise. Ripton was in despair. 
 
 " Where are you going to ? " he inquired with 
 a voice of the last time of asking, and halted 
 resolutely. 
 
 Richard now broke his silence to reply, " Any- 
 where.'' 
 
 " Anywhere ! " Ripton took up the moody 
 word. "But ain't you awfully hungry?" he 
 
94 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 gasped vehemently in a way that showed the 
 total emptiness of his stomach. 
 
 " No," was Richard's brief response. 
 
 " Not hungry !" Ripton's amazement lent him 
 increased vehemence. "Why, you haven't had 
 anything to cat since breakfast ! Not hungry ? 
 Well ! that beats me ! Why, I declare I 'm 
 starving. I feel such a gnawing I could eat dry 
 bread and cheese !" 
 
 Richard sneered : not for reasons that would 
 have actuated a similar demonstratio n of the phi- 
 losopher. 
 
 " Come," cried Ripton, " at all events, tell us 
 where you 're going to stop ? " 
 
 Richard faced about to make a querulous re- 
 tort. The injured and hapless visage that met 
 his eye disarmed him. The lad's unhappy nose, 
 though not exactly of the dreaded hue, was really 
 becoming discoloured. To upbraid him would 
 be cruel. Richard hfted his head, surveyed the po- 
 sition, and exclaiming, " Here ! " dropped down 
 on a withered bank, leaving Ripton to contem- 
 plate him as a puzzle whose every new move was 
 a worse perplexity. 
 
95 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE MAGIAN CONFLICT. 
 
 Among boys there are laws of honour and chi- 
 valrous codes, not written, or formally taught, 
 but intuitively understood by all, and invariably 
 acted upon by the loyal and the true. The race 
 is only half civiHzed, we must remember. Thus, 
 not to follow your leader whithersoever he may 
 think proper to lead ; to back out of an expedi- 
 tion because the end of it frowns dubious, and 
 the present fruit of it is discomfort ; to quit a 
 comrade on the road, and return home without 
 him : these are tricks which no boy of spirit 
 would be guilty of, let him come to any descrip- 
 tion of mortal grief in consequence. Better so, 
 than have his own conscience denouncing him 
 sneak. Some boys who behave boldly enough, 
 are not troubled by this conscience, and the eyes 
 and the Hps of their fellows have to supply the 
 
96 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 deficiency. They do it with just as haunting, 
 and even more horrible, pertinacity than the 
 inner voice, and the result, if the probation be 
 not very severe and searching, is the same. The 
 leader can rely on the faithfulness of his host : 
 the comrade is sv\^orn to serve. Master Ripton 
 Thompson was naturally loyal. The idea of 
 turning off and forsaking his friend, never once 
 crossed his mind, though his condition was de- 
 sperate, and his friend's behaviour that of a Bed- 
 lamite. He announced several times impatiently 
 that they would be too late for dinner. His 
 friend did not budge. Dinner seemed nothing 
 to him. There he lay plucking grass, and pat- 
 ting old Mark'em's nose, as if incapable of con- 
 ceiving what a thing hunger was. Riptcn took 
 half-a-dozen turns up and down, and at last flung 
 himself down beside the taciturn boy, accepting 
 his fate. 
 
 Now the chance that works for certain purposes 
 sent a smart shower from the sinking sun, and the 
 wxt sent two strangers for shelter in the lane be- 
 hind the hedge where the boys reclined. One was 
 a travelling Tinker, who lit a pipe and spread 
 a tawny umbrella. The other was a burly young 
 
THE MAGIAN CONFLICT. 97 
 
 countryman, pipeless, and tentless. They saluted 
 with a nod, and began recounting for each other's 
 benefit the day-long doings of the weather, as it 
 had affected their individual experience, and fol- 
 lowed their prophecies. Both had anticipated and 
 foretold a bit of rain before night, and there- 
 fore both welcomed the wet with satisfaction. 
 A monotonous betweenwhiles kind of talk they 
 kept droning in harmony with the still hum of 
 the air. From the weather theme they fell upon 
 the blessings of Tobacco ; how it was the poor 
 man's friend : his company, his consolation, his 
 comfort, his refuge at night, his first thought in 
 the morning. 
 
 *' Better than wife!" chuckled the Tinker. " No 
 curtain-lectu rin' with pipe. Pipe an't shrew. 
 Pipe 's swxet creetur." 
 
 " That be ut ! " the other chimed in. " Doan't 
 tax ye wi' pot 'us. Doan't mak' ye out wi' all the 
 cash Saturday evenin', pipe doan't." 
 
 " Take one," said the Tinker, in the enthusi- 
 asm of the moment handing a grimy short clay. 
 Speed-the-Plough filled from the Tinker's pouch, 
 and continued his praises. 
 
 " Pipe 's a rare 'un ! Penny a day, and there 
 
 VOL. I. H 
 
98 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 y'are ! primed ! Better than wife ? ha, ha ! Shud 
 think 'twaws ! Pipe an't no vexation." 
 
 " And you can get rid of it, if ye wants for 
 to, and Avhen ye wants," added Tinker. 
 
 " So ye can !" Speed-the-Plough took him up, 
 " So ye can ! And ye doan't want for to. Least- 
 ways, t'other case. I means pipe." 
 
 " And," continued Tinker, comprehending him 
 perfectly, " it don't bring repentance after it." 
 
 " Not nohow, master, it doan't ! And," — 
 Speed-the-Plough cocked his eye, — "it doan't 
 eat up half the victuals, pipe doan't." 
 
 Here the honest yeoman gesticulated his keen 
 sense of a clincher, which the Tinker acknow- 
 ledged; and having, so to speak, sealed up the 
 subject by saying the best thing that could be 
 said, the two smoked for some time in silence to 
 the drip and patter of the shower. 
 
 Kipton solaced his wretchedness by watching 
 them through the briar hedge. He saw the 
 Tinker stroking a white cat, and appealing to 
 her, every now and then, as his Missus, for an 
 opinion, or a confirmation : and he thought that 
 a curious sight. Speed-the-Plough was stretched 
 at full length, with his boots in the rain, and 
 
THE MAGIAN CONFLICT. 99 
 
 his head amidst the Tinker's pots, smoking pro- 
 foundly contemplative. The minutes seemed to 
 be taken up alternately by the gray pulFs from 
 their mouths. 
 
 It was Tinker who renewed the colloquy. 
 Said he: " Times is bad !" 
 
 His companion assented : " Sure-ly !" 
 
 " But it somehow comes round right," re- 
 sumed the Tinker. "Why, look here. Where's 
 the good o' moping ? I sees it all come round 
 right and tight. Now I travels about. I 've 
 got my beat. 'Casion calls me t'other day to 
 Newcastle!— Eh?" 
 
 " Coals !" ejaculated Speed-the-Plough, sono- 
 rously. 
 
 '' Coals !" echoed the Tinker. " Y' ask what I 
 goes there for, mayhap ? Never you mind. One 
 sees a mort o' life in my trade. Not for coals 
 it isn't. And I don't carry 'em there, neither. 
 Anyhow, I comes back. Lunnon's my mark. Says 
 I, I '11 see a bit o' the sea, and steps aboard a 
 collier. We were as nigh wracked as the prophet 
 Paul." 
 
 "A — who's him?" the other wished to know. 
 
 "Eead your Bible," said the Tinker. "We 
 
100 THE ORDEAL OE RICHARD EEVEREL. 
 
 pitched and tossed — 'tain't that game at sea 'tis 
 on land, I can tell ye. I thinks, down we 're a- 
 going — Say your prayers, Bob Tiles ! That was 
 a night, to be sure ! But God 's above the Devil, 
 and here I am, ye see." 
 
 Speed-the-Plough lurched round on his elbow 
 and regarded him indifferently. " Moighty foin, 
 that be! D'ye call that Doctrin? He bean't 
 al'ays, or I shoon't be scrapin' my heels wi' no- 
 thin' to do, and what's warse, nothin' to eat. 
 Why, look heer. Luck 's luck, and bad luck 's 
 the con-trary. Varmer BoUop, t'other day, has 's 
 rick burnt down. Next night his gran'ry 's 
 burnt. What do he tak' and go and do? He 
 takes, and goes, and hangs unsel', and turns us 
 out o' 'ploy. God warn't above the Devil then, 
 I thinks, or I can't make out the reckonin'." 
 
 The Tinker cleared his throat, and said, it was 
 a bad case. 
 
 " And a darn'd bad case. I '11 tak' my oath 
 on't?" cried Speed-the-Plough. ^' Wall ! look 
 heer. Heer 's another darn'd bad case. I 
 threshed for Varmer Blaize — Blaize o' Beltharpe — 
 afore I goes to Varmer Bollop. Varmer Blaize 
 misses pilkins. He swears soam o' our chaps steals 
 
THE MAGIAN CONFLICT. 101 
 
 pilkins. 'Twarn't me steals 'em. What do lie tak' 
 and go and do ? He takes and tarns us off, me 
 and another, neck and crop, to scuff about and 
 starve, for all he keers. God warn't above the 
 Devil then, I thmks? Not nohow, as I can 
 see!" 
 
 The Tinker shook his head, and said, that was 
 a bad case also. 
 
 "And ye can't mend ut," added Speed-the- 
 Plough. " Ut's bad, and there ut be. But I'll 
 tall ye what, master. Bad wants payin' for." He 
 nodded and winked mysteriously. " Bad has 
 ut's wages as well 's honest work, I 'm think- 
 in'. Varmer Bollop I don't owe no grudge to : 
 Varmer Blaize I do. And I shud like to stick 
 a Lucifer in his rick soam dry windy night." 
 Speed-the-Plough screwed up an eye villa- 
 nously. " He wants hittin' in the wind, — ^jest 
 where the pocket is, master, do Varmer Blaize, 
 and he'll cry out 'Oh, Lor !' Varmer Blaize wull. 
 Ye won't get the better o' Varmer Blaize by no 
 means, as I makes out, if ye doan't hit into 'un 
 jest there." 
 
 The Tinker sent a rapid succession of white 
 clouds from his mouth and said, that would be 
 
102 THE ORDEAL OF EICHAUD FEVEREL. 
 
 taking the Devil's side of a bad case. Speed- 
 the-Plough observed energetically that, if Farmer 
 Elaize was on the other, he should be on that 
 side. 
 
 There was a young gentleman close by, who 
 thought with him. The Hope of Raynham had 
 lent a careless, half-compelled, attention to the 
 foregoing dialogue, wherein a common labourer 
 and a travelling Tinker had propounded and dis- 
 cussed one of the most ancient theories of trans - 
 mundane dominion and influence on mundane 
 affairs. He now started to his feet, and came 
 tearing through the briar hedge, calling out for 
 one of them to direct him the nearest road to 
 Bursley. The Tinker was kindling preparations 
 for his tea, under the tawny umbrella. A loaf 
 was set forth, on which Ripton's eyes, stuck 
 in the hedge, fastened ravenously. Speed-the- 
 Plough volunteered information that Bursley 
 was a good three mile from where they stood, 
 and a good eight mile from Lobourne. 
 
 " I'll give you half-a-crown for that loaf, my 
 good fellow," said Richard to the Tinker. 
 
 " It 's a bargain," quoth the Tinker, " eh. 
 Missus?" 
 
THE MAGI AN CONFLICT. 103 
 
 Missus replied by humping her back at old 
 Mark' em. 
 
 The half-crown was tossed down, and Rip ton, 
 who had just succeeded in freeing his limbs from 
 the briar, prickly as a hedgehog, collared the loaf. 
 
 " Those young squires be sharp-set and no 
 mistake," said the Tinker to his companion. 
 " Come ! we'll to Bursley after 'em, and talk it 
 out over a pot o' beer." Speed-the-Plough was 
 nothing loath, and in a short time they were 
 following the two lads on the road to Bursley, 
 while a horizontal blaze shot across the Autumn 
 land from the western edge of the rain-cloud. 
 
104 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 AESON. 
 
 Search for the missing boys had been made 
 everywhere over Raynham, and Sir Austin was 
 in grievous discontent. None had seen them 
 save Austin Wentworth and Mr. Morton. The 
 Baronet sat construing their account of the 
 flight of the lads when they were hailed, and re- 
 solved it into an act of rebellion on the part of 
 his son. At dinner he drank the young heir's 
 health in ominous silence. The Wig of Mr. Jus- 
 tice Harley was low, and Adrian stood up in his 
 place to propose the health. His speech was 
 a fine piece of rhetoric. He warmed in it till, 
 after the Ciceronic model, inanimate objects were 
 personified, and Richard's table-napkin and va- 
 cant chair were invoked to follow the steps of 
 a peerless father, and uphold with his dignity 
 the honour of the Eeverels. Austin Wentworth, 
 
ARSON. 105 
 
 whom also a soldier's death compelled to take 
 his father's place in support of the toast, was 
 tame after such magniloquence. But the reply, 
 the thanks which young Richard should have 
 delivered in person were not forthcoming. 
 Adrian's oratory had given but a momentary 
 life to napkin and chair. The company of ho- 
 noured friends, and Aunts, and Uncles, and re- 
 motest Cousins, were glad to disperse and seek 
 amusement in music and tea. Sir Austin did his 
 utmost to be hospitably cheerful, and requested 
 them to dance. If he had desired them to 
 laugh, he would have been obeyed, and in as 
 hearty a manner. 
 
 "How triste!" said Mrs. Doria Foreyto Lo- 
 bourne's Curate, as that most enamoured auto- 
 maton went through his paces beside her with 
 professional stiffness. 
 
 " One who does not suffer can hardly assent," 
 the Curate answered, basking in her beams. 
 
 "Ah, you are good!" exclaimed the lady. 
 " Look at my Clare. She will not dance on her 
 cousin's birthday with any one but him. What 
 are we to do to enliven these people?" 
 
 " Alas, Madam ! you cannot do for all what 
 
106 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD EEVEREL. 
 
 you do for one," the Curate sighed, and wherever 
 she wandered in discourse, drew her back with 
 silken strings to gaze on his enamoured soul. 
 
 He was the only gratified stranger present. 
 The others had designs on the young heir. 
 Lady Attenbury of Longford House, had brought 
 her highly polished specimen of market- ware, 
 the lady Juliana Jaye, for a first introduction to 
 him, thinking he had arrived at an age to esti- 
 mate and pine for her black eyes and pretty 
 pert mouth. The lady Juliana had to pair off with 
 a dapper Papworth, and her Mama was subjected 
 to the gallantries of Sir Miles, who talked land 
 and Steam-Engines to her till she was sick, and 
 had to be impertinent in self-defence. Lady 
 Blandish sat apart with Adrian, and enjoyed 
 his sarcasms on the company. By ten at night, 
 the poor show ended, and the rooms were dark, 
 dark as the prognostics multitudinously hinted 
 by the disappointed and chilled guests, concern- 
 ing the probable future of the Hope of Bayn- 
 ham. Little Clare kissed her Mama, curtsied to 
 the lingering Curate, and went to bed like a very 
 good girl. Immediately the maid had departed, 
 little Clare deliberately exchanged night attire 
 
ARSON. 107 
 
 for that of day. She was noted as an obedient 
 child. Her light was always allowed to burn in 
 her room for half an hour, to counteract her fears 
 of the dark. She took the light, and stole on 
 tiptoe to Richard's room. No Richard was there. 
 She peeped in further and further. A trifling 
 agitation of the curtains shot her back through 
 the door and along the passage to her own bed- 
 chamber with extreme expedition. She was not 
 much alarmed, but feeling guilty she was on her 
 guard. In a short time, she was prowling about 
 the passages again. Richard had slighted and 
 offended the little lady, and was to be asked 
 whether he did not repent such conduct towards 
 his cousin ; not to be asked whether he had for- 
 gotten to receive his birthday kiss from her; 
 for if he did not choose to remember that. Miss 
 Clare would never remind him of it, and to- 
 night should be his last chance of a reconcilia- 
 tion. Thus she meditated, sitting on a stair, and 
 presently heard Richard's voice below in the hall, 
 shouting for supper. 
 
 "Master Richard has returned," old Benson 
 tolled out intelhgence to Sir Austin. 
 
 "Well?" said the Baronet. 
 
108 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD EEVEREL. 
 
 " He complains of being hungry," the butler 
 hesitated, with a look of solemn disgust. 
 
 " Let him eat." 
 
 Heavy Benson hesitated still more as he an- 
 nounced that the boy had called for wine. It 
 was an unprecedented thing. Sir Austin's brows 
 were portending an arch, but Adrian suggested 
 that he wanted possibly to drink his birthday, 
 and Claret was conceded. 
 
 The boys were in the vortex of a partridge- 
 pie when Adrian strolled in to them. They had 
 now changed characters. Richard was uproarious. 
 He drank a health with every glass. His cheeks 
 were flushed, and his eye brilliant. Ripton 
 looked very much like a rogue on the tremble of 
 detection, but his honest hunger and the par- 
 tridge-pie shielded him awhile from Adrian's 
 scrutinizing glance. Adrian saw there was mat- 
 ter for study, if it were only on. Master Ripton's 
 betraying nose, and sat down to hear and mark. 
 
 " Good sport, gentlemen, I trust to hear?" he 
 began his quiet banter, and provoked a loud peal 
 of laughter from Richard. 
 
 " Ha, ha ! I say. Rip ! ' Havin' good sport, 
 gentlemen, are ye?' You remember the farmer? 
 
ARSON. 109 
 
 Your health, Parson ! We haven't had our sport 
 yet. We 're gohig to have some first-rate sport. 
 Oh, well ! we haven't much show of birds. We 
 shot for pleasure, and returned them to the pro- 
 prietors. You 're fond of game, Parson ! I wish 
 I 'd thought of it. Rip took uncle's rifle out on 
 purpose to knock down his birds clean for you. 
 And he didn't miss, either. He's a dead shot 
 in what cousin Austin calls the Kingdom of 
 ' Would-have-done,' and ' Might-have-been.' Up 
 went the birds, and, cries Rip, ' I've forgotten to 
 load !' O ho ! — Rip ! some more claret. — Do just 
 leave that nose of yours alone. — Your health, 
 Rip ton Thompson ! The birds hadn't the de- 
 cency to wait for him, and so, Parson, it 's their 
 fault, and not Rip's, you haven't a dozen brace 
 at your feet. What have you been doing at 
 home. Cousin Rady?" 
 
 " Playing Hamlet, in the absence of the Prince 
 of Denmark. The day without you, my dear boy 
 must be dull, you know." 
 
 " ' He speaks : can I trust what he says is sincere ? 
 / There's an edge to his smile which cuts much 
 
 like a sneer.' 
 
 Sandoe's poems ! You know the couplet, Mr. 
 
110 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 Rady. Why shouldn't I quote Sandoe? You 
 know you Hke him, Rady. But if you've missed 
 me, I'm sorry. Rip and I have had a beautiful 
 day. We 've made new acquaintances. We 've 
 seen the world. I 'm the monkey that has seen 
 the world, and I'm going to tell you all about 
 it. Pu'st, there's a gentleman who takes a rifle 
 for a fowling-piece. Next, there 's a farmer who 
 warns everybody, gentleman and beggar, off his 
 premises. Next, there 's a tinker and a plough- 
 man, who think that God is always fighting with 
 the Devil which shall command the kingdoms of 
 the earth. The tinker 's for God, and the plough- 
 man — " 
 
 " I '11 drink your health, Ricky," said Adrian, 
 interrupting. 
 
 " Oh, I forgot, Mr. Parson ! — I mean no harm, 
 Adrian. I 'm only telhng what I 've heard." 
 
 "No harm, my dear boy," returned Adrian. 
 '* I 'm perfectly aware that Zoroaster is not dead. 
 You have been listening to a common creed. 
 Drink the Eire-worshipers, if you will." 
 
 " Here 's to Zoroaster, then ! " cried Richard. 
 " I say, Rippy ! we '11 drink the Fire- worshipers 
 to-night, won't we?" 
 
ARSON. Ill 
 
 A fearful conspiratorial frown, that would not 
 have disgraced Guido Fawkes, was darted back 
 from the plastic features of Master Ripton. 
 
 Richard gave his lungs loud play. 
 
 " Why, what did you say about Blazes, Rippy? 
 Didn't you say it was fun ? " 
 
 Another hideous silencing frown was Ripton's 
 answer. Adrian watched the innocent youths^ 
 and knew that there was talking under the table. 
 ' See,' thought he : ' This boy has tasted his first 
 scraggy morsel of hfe to-day, and already he talks 
 like an old- stager, and has, if I mistake not, been 
 acting too. My respected Chief,' he apostro- 
 phized Sir Austin, ' combustibles are only the 
 more dangerous for compression. This boy will 
 be ravenous for Earth when he is let loose, and 
 very soon make his share of it look as foohsh as 
 yonder game-pie ! ' — a prophecy Adrian kept to 
 himself. 
 
 Uncle Algernon shambled in to see his nephew 
 before the supper was finished, and his more ge- 
 nial presence brought out a little of the plot. 
 
 "Look here. Uncle !" said Richard. "Would 
 you let a churlish old brute of a farmer strike 
 you without making him suffer for it ?" 
 
112 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 "I fancy I sliould return the compliment, my 
 lad/' replied his Uncle. 
 
 " Of course you would ! So would I. And 
 he shall suffer for it." The boy looked savage, 
 and his Uncle patted him down. 
 
 " I 've boxed his son ; I '11 box him," said Ri- 
 chard, shouting for more wine. 
 
 " What, boy ! Is it old Blaize has been putting 
 you up ?" 
 
 " Never mind, Uncle !" the boy nodded mys- 
 teriously. 
 
 " Look there ! " Adrian read on Ripton's face, 
 ' he says ' never mind,' and lets it out ! " 
 
 " Did we beat to-day, Uncle ?" 
 
 " Yes boy ; and we 'd beat them any day they 
 bowl fair. I 'd beat them on one leg. There 's 
 only Natkins and Featherdene among them worth 
 a farthing." 
 
 " We beat !" cries Richard. " Then we'll have 
 some more wine, and drink their healths." 
 
 The bell was rung ; wine ordered. Presently 
 comes in Heavy Benson to say, supplies are cut 
 off. One bottle, and no more. The Captain 
 whistles : Adrian shrugs. 
 
 "Don't you know it 's my birthday, Benson ?" 
 
AESON. 113 
 
 Benson knew it, but had positive orders. 
 
 He withdraws, and to the delight of all pre- 
 sent, Adrian, ever provident, puts his hand behind 
 him and leads forth a flask, saying that he had 
 anticipated this possibility. 
 
 One subject was at Richard's heart, about 
 which he was reserved in the midst of his riot. 
 Too proud to inquire how his father had taken 
 his absence, he burned to hear whether he was 
 in disgrace. He led to it repeatedly, and it was 
 constantly evaded by Algernon and Adrian. At 
 last, when the boy declared a desire to wish his 
 father good night, Adrian had to tell him that he 
 was to go straight to bed from the supper-table. 
 Young Richard's face fell at that, and his gaiety 
 forsook him. He marched to his room without 
 another word. 
 
 Adrian gave Sir Austin an able version of his 
 son's behaviour and adventures ; dwelling upon 
 this sudden taciturnity when he heard of his fa- 
 ther's resolution not to see him. The Wise Youth 
 saw that his Chief was mollified behind his move- 
 less mask, and went to bed and Horace, leav- 
 ing Sir Austin in his study. Long hours the Ba- 
 ronet sat alone. The house had not its usual in- 
 
 VOL. I. J 
 
114 THE ORDEAL OF KICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 flux of Feverels that day. Austin Wentworth was 
 staying at Poer Hall, and had only come over 
 for the day. At midnight the house breathed 
 sleep. Sir Austin put on his cloak and cap, and 
 took the lamp to make his rounds. He appre- 
 hended nothing special, but with a mind never at 
 rest, he constituted himself the sentinel of Rayn- 
 ham. He passed the chamber where the Great- 
 Aunt Grantley lay, who was to swell Richard's 
 fortune, and 'so perform her chief business on 
 earth. By her door he murmured, " Good crea- 
 ture ! you sleep with a sense of duty done," and 
 paced on, reflecting, " She has not made Money 
 a demon of discord," and blessed her. He had 
 his thoughts at Hippias's somnolent door, and 
 to them the world might have subscribed. Al- 
 gernon challenged him, and was quieted by two 
 knocks which he knew. Algernon's voice was 
 thick. Sir Austin excused the cause. "He saved 
 my son that day!" the Baronet murmured, and 
 devoutly believed it. 
 
 ''A monomaniac at large, watching over sane 
 people in slumber 1 " thinks Adrian Harley, as he 
 hears Sir Austin's footfall, and truly that was a 
 strange object to see, but one not so strange in 
 
ARSON. 115 
 
 his service. Where is the fortress that has not 
 one weak gate ? where the man who is sound at 
 each particular angle? "Ay," meditates the re- 
 cumbent cynic, " more or less mad is not every 
 mother's son ? Favourable circumstances ; good 
 air, good company, two or three good rules rigidly 
 adhered to ; keep the world out of Bedlam. But 
 let the world fly into a passion, and is not Bed- 
 lam its safest abode? What seemed inviolable 
 barriers are burst asunder in a trice : men, God's 
 likeness, are at one another's throats, and the 
 Angels may well be weeping. In youth, 'tis love, 
 or lust, makes the world mad : in age, 'tis preju- 
 dice. Superstition holds a province : Pride an em- 
 pire. Tinker 's right ! There 's a battle raging 
 above us. One can't wonder at Ploughman's con- 
 trary opinion, as to which is getting the upper 
 hand. If we wxre not mad, we should fight it 
 for ourselves, and end it. We are ; and we make 
 Life the disease, and Death the cure. Good 
 night, my worthy Uncle ! Can I deem the man 
 mad who holdeth me much ?" And Adrian buried 
 a sleepy smile in his pillow, and slept, knowing him- 
 self wise in a mad world. 
 
 Sir Austin ascended the stairs, and bent his 
 
116 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD EEVEREL. 
 
 steps leisurely towards the chamber where his son 
 was lying in the left wing of the Abbey. At 
 the end of the gallery which led to it, he disco- 
 vered a dim light. Doubting it an illusion, Sir 
 Austin accelerated his pace. This wing had 
 aforetime a bad character. Notwithstanding what 
 years had done to pohsh it into fair repute, the 
 Raynham kitchen stuck to tradition still, and 
 preserved certain stories of ghosts seen there, and 
 thought to have been seen, that effectually black- 
 ened it in the susceptible minds of new house- 
 maids and under-cooks, whose fears would not 
 allow the sinner to wash his sins. Sir Austin 
 had heard of the tales circulated by his domestics 
 underground. He cherished his own belief, but 
 discouraged theirs, and it was treason at Rayn- 
 ham to be caught traducing the left wing. As 
 the Baronet advanced, the fact of a hght burn- 
 ing was clear to him. A sHght descent brought 
 him into the passage, and he beheld a poor hu- 
 man candle standing outside his son's chamber. 
 At the same moment a door closed hastily. He 
 entered Richard's room. The. boy was absent. 
 The bed was unpressed : no clothes about : no- 
 thing to show that he had been there that night. 
 
ARSON. 117 
 
 Sir Austin felt vaguely apprehensive. " Has he 
 gone to my room to await me?" thought the 
 father's heart. Something like a tear quivered in 
 his arid eyes as he meditated and hoped this 
 might be so. His own sleeping-room faced that 
 of his son. He strode to it with a quick heart. 
 It was empty. " My son ! my son ! what is 
 this ? " he murmured. Alarm dislodged anger 
 from his jealous heart, and dread of evil put a 
 thousand questions to him that were answered in 
 air. After pacing up and down his room, he de- 
 termined to go and ask the boy Thompson, as he 
 called Ripton, what was known to him. 
 
 The chamber assigned to Master Ripton 
 Thompson was at the northern extremity of the 
 passage, and overlooked Lobourne and the valley 
 to the west. The bed stood between the window 
 and the door. Sir Austin found the door ajar, 
 and the interior dark. To his surprise, the boy 
 Thompson's couch, as revealed by the rays of his 
 lamp, was likewise vacant. He was turning back, 
 when he fancied he heard the sibilation of a 
 whispering in the room. Sir Austin cloaked the 
 lamp and trod silently towards the window. The 
 heads of his son Richard and the boy Thompson 
 
118 THE ORDEAL OE RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 were seen crouched against the glass, holding ex- 
 cited converse together. Sir Austin listened, but 
 he listened to a language of which he possessed 
 not the key. Their talk was of Fire, and of 
 delay : of expected agrarian astonishment : of a 
 farmer's huge wrath : of violence exercised to- 
 wards gentlemen, and of vengeance : talk that 
 the boys jerked out by fits, and that came as 
 broken links of a chain impossible to connect. 
 But they awoke curiosity. The Baronet con- 
 descended to play the spy upon his son. 
 
 Over Lobourne and the valley lay black night 
 and innumerable stars. 
 
 " How jolly I feel! " exclaimed Ripton, inspired 
 by Claret ; and then, after a luxurious pause, " I 
 think that fellow has pocketed his guinea, and 
 cut his lucky." 
 
 Richard allowed a long minute to pass, dur- 
 ing which the Baronet waited anxiously for his 
 voice : hardly recognizing it, when he heard its 
 altered tones. 
 
 " If he has, I '11 go, and I '11 do it myself." 
 
 "You would?" returned Master Ripton. 
 " AVell, I 'm hanged ! — I say, if you went to 
 school, wouldn't you get into rows ! Perhaps he 
 
ARSON. 119 
 
 hasn't found the place where the box was stuck 
 in. I think he funks it. I almost wish you 
 hadn't done it, upon my honour — eh? Look 
 there ! what was that ? That looked like some- 
 thing. — I say ! do you think we shall ever be 
 found out?" 
 
 Master Ripton intoned this abrupt interroga- 
 tion very seriously. 
 
 " I don't think about it," said Richard, all his 
 faculties bent on signs from Lobourne. 
 
 " Well, but," Ripton persisted, '' suppose we 
 are found out ? " 
 
 " If we are, I must pay for it." 
 
 Sir Austin breathed the better for this reply. 
 He w^as beginnmg to gather a clue to the dia- 
 logue. His son was engaged in a plot, and was 
 moreover the leader of the plot. He Hstened for 
 further enlightenment. 
 
 " What was the fellow's name?" inquired 
 Ripton. 
 
 His companion answered, " Tom Bakewell." 
 
 " 1 11 tell you what," continued Ripton. " You 
 let it all clean out to your cousin and Uncle at 
 supper. — How capital Claret is with Partridge 
 Pie ! W^hat a lot I ate ! — Didn't you see me 
 frown ? " 
 
120 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 The young sensualist was in an ecstasy of gra- 
 titude to his late refection, and the sKghtest word 
 recalled him to it. Richard answered him : 
 
 " Yes. And felt your kick. It doesn't mat- 
 ter. Rady's safe, and Uncle never blabs." 
 
 " Well, my plan is to keep it close. You 're 
 never safe if you don't. — I never drank much 
 Claret before," Ripton was off again, " Won't 
 I now, though ! Claret 's my wine. You know, 
 it may come out any day, and then we're done 
 for," he rather incongruously appended. 
 
 Richard only took up the business-threads of 
 his friend's rambling chatter, and answered : 
 
 " You've got nothing to do with it, if we are." 
 
 " Haven't I, though ! I didn't stick in the 
 box, but I 'm an accomplice, that 's clear. Be- 
 sides," added Ripton, " do you think I should 
 leave you to bear it all on your shoulders? I 
 ain't that sort of chap, Ricky, I can tell you." 
 
 Sir Austin thought more highly of the boy 
 Thompson. Still it looked a detestable conspi- 
 racy, and the altered manner of his son impressed 
 him strangely. He was not the boy of yester- 
 day. To Sir Austin it seemed as if a gulf had 
 suddenly opened between them. The boy had 
 
ARSON. 121 
 
 embarked, and was on the waters of life in his 
 own vessel. It was as vain to call him back as 
 to attempt to erase what Time has written with 
 the Judgment Blood ! This child for whom he 
 had prayed nightly in such a fervour and hum- 
 bleness to God, the dangers were about him, the 
 temptations thick on him, and the Devil on board 
 piloting. If a day had done so much, what would 
 years do ? Were prayers and all the watchfulness 
 he had expended, of no avail ? 
 
 A sensation of infinite melancholy overcame the 
 poor gentleman : a thought that he was fight- 
 ing with a fate in this beloved boy. 
 
 He Was half disposed to arrest the two con- 
 spirators on the spot, and make them confess, and 
 absolve themselves : but it seemed to him better 
 to keep an unseen eye over his son : Sir Austin's 
 old system prevailed. 
 
 Adrian characterized this system well, in say- 
 ing that Sir Austin wished to be Providence to 
 his son. 
 
 If immeasurable Love were perfect Wisdom, 
 one human being might almost impersonate Pro- 
 vidence to another. Alas ! Love, divine as it is, 
 can do no more than lighten the house it inha- 
 bits : must take its shape, sometimes intensify 
 
122 THE OEDEAL OF UICHARD PEVEREL. 
 
 its narrowness : can spiritualize, but not expel, 
 the old life-long lodgers above-stairs and below. 
 
 Sir Austin decided to continue quiescent. 
 
 The valley still lay black beneath the large Au- 
 tumnal stars, and the exclamations of the boys 
 were becoming fevered and impatient. By-and- 
 by one insisted that he had seen a twinkle. The 
 direction he gave was out of their anticipations. 
 Again the twinkle was announced. Both boys 
 started to their feet. It was a twinkle in the 
 right direction now. 
 
 " He 's done it ! " cried Bichard in great heat. 
 " Now you may say old Blaize '11 soon be old 
 Blazes, Rip. I hope he 's asleep." 
 
 '' I 'm sure he 's snoring ! — Look there ! He 's 
 alight fast enough. He 's dry. He '11 burn. — I 
 say," Ripton reassumed the serious intonation, 
 " do you think they '11 ever suspect us ? " 
 
 " What if they do ? We must brunt it." 
 
 " Of course we will. But I say ! I wish you 
 hadn't given them the scent, though. I like to 
 look innocent. I can't, when I know people sus- 
 pect me. Lord ! look there ! Isn't it just begin- 
 ning to flare up !" 
 
 The farmer's grounds were indeed gradually 
 standing out in sombre shadows. 
 
ARSON. 123 
 
 " I '11 fetch my telescope/' said Richard. Rip- 
 ton, somehow not liking to be left alone, caught 
 hold of him. " No, don't go and lose the best 
 of it. Here, I '11 throw open the window, and 
 we can see." 
 
 The window was flung open, and the boys 
 instantly stretched half their bodies out of it : 
 Ripton appearing to devour the rising flames 
 with his mouth s Richard with his eyes. 
 
 Opaque and statuesque stood the figure of the 
 Baronet behind them. The wind was low. 
 Dense masses of smoke hung amid the darting 
 snakes of fire, and a red 'iii?.:ign hght was on the 
 neighbouring leafage. No figures could be seen. 
 Apparently the flames had nothing to contend 
 against, for they were making terrible strides 
 into the darkness. 
 
 " Oh ! " shouted Richard, overcome by excite- 
 ment, " if I had my telescope ! We must have 
 it ! Let me go and fetch it ! I wifl ! " 
 
 The boys struggled together, and Sir Austin 
 stepped back. As he did so, a cry was heard in 
 the passage. He hurried out, closed the cham- 
 ber, and came upon little Clare lying senseless 
 along the floor. 
 
124 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 ADRIAN PLIES HIS HOOK. 
 
 In the morning that followed this night, great 
 gossip was interchanged between Raynham and 
 Lobourne. The village told how farmer Blaize, 
 of Belthorpe farm, had had his rick feloniously set 
 fire to ; his stables had caught fire, himself been 
 all but roasted alive in the attempt to rescue 
 his cattle, of which numbers had perished in the 
 flames. Raynham counterbalanced Arson with 
 an authentic Ghost seen by Miss Clare in the 
 left wing of the Abbey ; the Ghost of a Lady, 
 dressed in deep mourning, a scar on her forehead, 
 and a bloody handkerchief at her breast, frightful 
 to behold ! and no wonder the child was fright- 
 ened out of her wits and lay in a desperate state 
 awaiting the arrival of the London Doctors. It 
 was added that the servants had all threatened to 
 leave in a body, and that Sir Austin to appease 
 
ADRIAN PLIES HIS HOOK. 125 
 
 them had promised to pull down the entire left 
 wing, like a gentleman ; for no decent creature, 
 said Lobourne, could consent to live in a haunted 
 house. 
 
 Rumour for the nonce had a stronger spice of 
 truth than usual. Poor little Clare lay ill, and the 
 calamity that had befallen farmer Blaize, as re- 
 gards his rick and his cattle, was not much exag- 
 gerated. Sir Austin caused an account of it to 
 be given him at breakfast, and appeared so scrupu- 
 lously anxious to hear the exact extent of injury 
 sustained by the farmer, that Heavy Benson went 
 down to inspect the scene. Mr. Eenson returned, 
 and, acting under Adrian's mahcious advice, 
 framed a formal Report of the Catastrophe, in 
 which the farmer's breeches figured, and certain 
 cooling applications to a part of the farmer's per- 
 son. Sir Austin perused it without a smile. He 
 took occasion to have it read out before the two 
 boys, who listened very demurely, as to an ordi- 
 nary newspaper incident : only when the Report 
 particularized the peculiar garments damaged, 
 and the unwonted distressing position farmer 
 Blaize was reduced to in his bed, an indecorous 
 fit of sneezing laid hold of Master Ripton Thorn p- 
 
 4^ 
 
126 THE OUDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 son, and Richard bit his hp and burst into loud 
 laughter, Ripton joining him, lost to consequences. 
 
 " I trust you feel for this poor man/' said Sir 
 Austin to his son, somewhat sternly. 
 
 "I 'm sorry about the poor horses, Sir," Rich- 
 ard rephed, looking anything but sorry about 
 the poor man. 
 
 It was a difficult task for Sir Austin to keep 
 his old countenance towards the Hope of Rayn- 
 ham, knowing him the accomplice-incendiary, 
 and believing the deed to have been unprovoked 
 and wanton. But he must do so, he knew, to let 
 the boy have a fair trial against himself. Be it 
 said, moreover, that the Baronet's possession of 
 his son's secret flattered him. It allowed him to 
 act, and in a measure to feel, like Providence ; 
 enabled him to observe and provide for the move- 
 ments of creatures in the dark. He therefore 
 treated the boy as he commonly did, and young 
 Richard saw no change in his father to make 
 him think he was suspected. 
 
 The game was not so easy against Adrian. 
 Adrian did not shoot or fish. Voluntarily he did 
 nothing to work off the destructive nervous fluid, 
 or whatever it may be, which is in man's nature; 
 
ADRIAN PLIES HIS HOOK. 127 
 
 SO tliat two culprit boys once in his power were 
 not likely to taste the gentle hand of Mercy, and 
 Richard and Ripton paid for many a trout and 
 partridge spared. At every minute of the day 
 Ripton was thrown into sweats of suspicion that 
 discovery was imminent, by some stray remark 
 or message of Adrian. He was as a fish with 
 the hook in his gills, mysteriously caught with- 
 out having nibbled ; and dive into what depths 
 he would, he was sensible of a summoning force 
 that compelled him perpetually towards the gasp- 
 ing surface, which he seemed inevitably approach- 
 ing when the dinner-bell sounded. There the 
 talk was all of farmer Blaize. If it drooped, 
 Adrian revived it, and his caressing way with 
 Ripton was just such as a keen sportsman feels 
 tov/ards the creature that has owned his skill 
 and is making its appearance for the world to 
 acknowledge the same. Sir Austin saw the ma- 
 noeuvres, and admired Adrian's shrewdness. But 
 he had to check the young natural lawyer, for 
 the effect of so much masked examination upon 
 Richard was grovring baneful. This fish also 
 felt the hook in its gills, but this fish was more 
 of a pike, and lay in different waters, where there 
 
128 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 were old stumps and black roots to wind itself 
 about, and defy alike strong pulling and delicate 
 handling. In other words, Richard showed symp- 
 toms of a disposition to take refuge in lies. 
 
 "You know the grounds, my dear boy," A- 
 drian observed to him. " Tell me. Do you think it 
 easy to get to the rick unperceived ? I hear they 
 suspect one of the farmer's turned-off hands." 
 
 " I tell you I don't know the grounds," Ri- 
 chard sullenly replied. 
 
 " Not ? " Adrian counterfeited courteous asto- 
 nishment. " I thought Mr. Thompson said you 
 were over there yesterday ?" 
 
 Ripton, glad to speak a truth, hurriedly as- 
 sured Adrian that it was not he had said so. 
 
 "Not? You had good sport, gentlemen, 
 hadn't you?" 
 
 "Oh, yes!" mumbled the wretched victims, 
 reddening as they remembered, in Adrian's 
 shghtly drawled rusticity of tone, farmer Blaize's 
 first address to them. 
 
 " I suppose you w^re among the Fire- wor- 
 shipers last night, too ?" persisted Adrian. " In 
 some countries, I hear, they manage their best 
 sport at night-time, and beat up for game with 
 
ADllIAN PLIES HIS HOOK. 129 
 
 torches. It must be a fine sight. After all, the 
 Country would be dull if we hadn't a rip here 
 and there to treat us to a little conflagration." 
 
 " A rip !" laughed Richard, to his friend's dis- 
 gust and alarm at his daring : " You don't mean 
 this Rip, do you?" 
 
 " Mr. Thompson fire a rick ? I should as 
 soon suspect you, my dear boy. — You are aware, 
 young gentlemen, that it is rather a serious thing 
 — Eh ? In this country, you know, the landlord 
 has always been the pet of the Laws. By the 
 way," Adrian continued, as if diverging to an- 
 other topic, "You met two gentlemen of the road 
 in your explorations yesterday, Magians. Now, 
 if I were a magistrate of the County, like Sir 
 Miles Papworth, my suspicions would light upon 
 those gentlemen. A tinker and a ploughman, I 
 think you said, Mr. Thompson. Not ? Well, say 
 two ploughmen." 
 
 " More likely two tinkers," said Richard. 
 
 " Oh ! if you wish to exclude the ploughman 
 —was he out of employ ?" 
 
 Ripton, with Adrian's eyes inveterately fixed 
 on him, stammered an affirmative. 
 
 " The tinker, or the ploughman?" 
 
 VOL. I. K 
 
130 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 " The plouglim — ." Ingenuous Ripton looking 
 about, as if to aid himself whenever he was able 
 to speak the truth, beheld Richard's face black- 
 ening at him, and swallowed back half the word. 
 
 "The ploughman!" Adrian took him up 
 cheerily. " Then we have here a ploughman 
 out of employ. Given a ploughman out of em- 
 ploy, and a rick biu-nt. The burning of a rick 
 is an act of vengeance, and a ploughman out 
 of employ is a vengeful animal. The rick and 
 the ploughman are advancing to a juxtaposition. 
 Motive being established, we have only to prove 
 their proximity at a certain hour, and our plough- 
 man voyages beyond seas." 
 
 " Dear me ! is it transportation for rick-burn- 
 ing?" inquired Ripton aghast. 
 
 Adrian spoke solemnly : " They shave your 
 head. You are manacled. Your diet is sour 
 bread and cheese-parings. You work in strings 
 of twenties and thirties. Arson is branded on 
 your backs in an enormous A. Theological 
 works are the sole literary recreation of the well- 
 conducted and deserving. Consider the fate of 
 this poor fellow, and what an act of vengeance 
 brings him to ! Do you know his name?" 
 
ADRIAN PLIES HIS HOOK. 131 
 
 "How should I know his name?" said Ri- 
 chard, with a stubborn assumption of innocence 
 sad to see. 
 
 Sir Austin remarked that no doubt it would 
 soon be known, and Adrian perceived that he 
 was to quiet his line, marvelling a little at the 
 Baronet's blindness to what was so clear. He 
 w^ould not tell, for that would ruin his future 
 influence with Richard ; still he wanted some 
 present credit for his discernment and devotion. 
 The boys got away from dinner, and, after deep 
 consultation, agreed upon a course of conduct, 
 which was, to commiserate farmer Blaize loudly, 
 and make themselves look as much like the pub- 
 lic as it was possible for two desperate young 
 malefactors to look, one of whom already felt 
 Adrian's enormous A devouring his back with 
 the fierceness of the Promethean Eagle, and iso- 
 lating him for ever from mankind. Adrian re- 
 lished their novel tactics sharply, and led them 
 to lengths of lamentation for farmer Blaize. Do 
 what they might, the hook was in their gills. 
 The farmer's whip had reduced them to bodily 
 contortions : these weie decorous compared with 
 the spiritual writhings they had to perform under 
 
132 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEYEREL. 
 
 Adrian's skilful manipulation. Ripton was fast 
 becoming a coward, and Richard a liar, when 
 next morning Austin Wentworth came over from 
 Poer Hall bringing news that one Mr. Thomas 
 Bakewell, yeoman, had been arrested on suspi- 
 cion of the crime of Arson and lodged in jail, 
 awaiting the magisterial pleasure of Sir Miles 
 Papworth. Austin's eye rested on Richard, as 
 he spoke these terrible tidings. The Hope of 
 Raynham returned his look, perfectly calm, and 
 had, moreover, the presence of mind not to look 
 at Ripton. 
 
133 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 JUVENILE STRATAGEMS. 
 
 As soon as they could escape, the boys got away 
 together into an obscure corner of the park, and 
 there took counsel of their extremity. 
 
 " Whatever shall we do now ? " asked Ripton 
 of his leader. 
 
 Scorpion girt with fire was never in a more 
 terrible prison-house than poor Ripton, around 
 whom the raging element he had assisted to 
 create seemed to be drawing momently narrower 
 circles. 
 
 " There 's only one chance," said Richard, 
 coming to a dead halt, and folding his arms re- 
 solutely. 
 
 His comrade inquired with the utmost eager- 
 ness, what that chance might be ? 
 
 Richard fixed his eyes on a flint, and replied : 
 " We must rescue that fellow from jail.'* 
 
134 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 " Rescue him from jail ! " Ripton gazed at his 
 leader, and fell back with astonishment. " My 
 dear Ricky ! but how are we to do it ? " 
 
 Richard still perusing his flint, replied : " We 
 must manage to get a file in to him, and a rope. 
 It can be done, I tell you. I don't care what I 
 pay. I don't care what I do. He must be got 
 out." 
 
 " Bother that old Blaize ! " exclaimed Ripton, 
 taking off* his cap to wipe his frenzied fore- 
 head, and brought down his friend's severe re- 
 proof. 
 
 " Never mind old Blaize now. Talk about 
 letting it out. Look at you. I 'm ashamed of 
 you. You talk about Robin Hood and King 
 Richard ! Why, you haven't an atom of cou- 
 rage. Why, you let it out every second of 
 the day. Whenever Rady begins speaking, you 
 start, I can see the perspiration rolling down 
 you. Are you afraid ? And then you contra- 
 dict yourself. You never keep to one story. Now, 
 follow me. We must risk everything to get him 
 out. Mind that ! And keep out of Adrian's way 
 as much as you can. And keep to one story." 
 
 With these sage directions, the young leader 
 
JUVENILE STRATAGEMS. 135 
 
 marched his companion-culprit down to inspect 
 the jail where Tom Bakewell lay groaning over 
 the results of the super-mundane conflict, and 
 the victim of it that he was. 
 
 In Lobourne Austin Wentworth had the repu- 
 tation of the poor man's friend ; a title he earned 
 more largely ere he went to the rew^ard God 
 alone can give to that supreme virtue. Dame 
 Bakewell, the mother of Tom, on hearing of her 
 son's arrest, had run to comfort him and render 
 him what help she could ; but this was only 
 sighs and tears, and, Oh deary me ! which only 
 perplexed poor Tom, who bade her leave an 
 unlucky chap to his fate and not make him feel 
 himself a thundering villain. Whereat the dame 
 begged him to take heart, and he should have 
 a true comforter. "And though it's a gentle- 
 man that 's coming to you, Tom — for he never re- 
 fuses a poor body," said Mrs. Bakewell, '' it 's a 
 true Christian, Tom ! and the Lord knows if the 
 sight of him mayn't be the saving of you, for 
 he 's light to look on, and a sermon to listen to, 
 he is ! " 
 
 Tom was not prepossessed by the prospect of 
 a sermon, and looked a sullen dog enough when 
 Austin entered his cell. He was surprised at 
 
136 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 the end of half an hour to find himself engaged 
 in man-to-man conversation with a gentleman 
 and a Christian. When Austin rose to go, Tom 
 begged permission to shake his hand. 
 
 " Yew Ve doan me good, Sir,'' said Tom, "and 
 made me feel — there ! I knows I 'm a sinner, 
 though yew an't said ut — that 's where 't is ! 
 — like a man ! And a man I intends to be 
 let coam what coam may ! Now, Sir, Muster 
 Went'orth ! you knows what a bad chap I be. 
 But I an't a blackguard. Now, Sir, 'skews me 
 for sayin' I moight 'a doan your fam'ly a bad 
 turn. But I an't a-goin' to. Leastways, if I 
 was ever a-minded to, which I warn't. Least- 
 ways, not now, I an't. Yew tak' and tall young 
 Measter up at t' Abbey, that I an't the chap to 
 peach. He '11 know. He 's a young gentleman 
 as '11 mak' any man do as he wants 'em ! He 's 
 a mortal wild young gentleman ! And I'm a 
 Ass! That's where 'tis. But I an't a black- 
 guard. Tall'n that. Sir! That'll mak' un 
 easy, or he'll mayhap be funkin'-loike. They 
 knows at Beltharpe ut 's all on moy shoolders. 
 I did ut. Thay 're broad 'nough. Tall 'n that. 
 Sir. Sure-ly they be ! " And Tom shook his 
 much-burdened shoulders with a grin. 
 
JUVENILE STRATAGEMS. 137 
 
 This was how it came that Austin eyed young 
 Richard seriously while he told the news at 
 Raynham. The boy was shy of Austin more 
 than of Adrian. Why, he did not know ; but 
 he made it a hard task for Austin to catch him 
 alone, and turned sulky that instant. Austin 
 was not clever like Adrian : he seldom divined 
 other people's ideas, and always went the direct 
 road to his object ; so instead of beating about 
 and setting the boy on the alert at all points, 
 crammed to the muzzle with lies, he just said, 
 " Tom Bakewell told me to let you know he 
 does not intend to peach on you," and left 
 him. 
 
 Richard repeated the intelHgence to Ripton, 
 who cried aloud that Tom was a brick. 
 
 " He shan't suffer for it," said Richard, and 
 pondered on a thicker rope and sharper file. 
 
 "But will your cousin tell?" was Ripton's 
 reflection. 
 
 "He!" Richard's lip expressed contempt. "A 
 ploughman refuses to peach, and you ask if a 
 Teverel will ? " 
 
 Ripton stood for the twentieth time reproved 
 on this point. 
 
138 THE ORDEAL OF RICHAUD EEVEREL. 
 
 The boys had examined the outer walls of the 
 jail, and arrived at the conclusion that Tom's 
 escape might be managed, if Tom had spirit, 
 and the rope and file could be anyway reached 
 to him. But to do this, somebody must gain 
 admittance to his cell, and who was to be taken 
 into their confidence ? 
 
 " Try your cousin," Ripton suggested, after 
 much debate. 
 
 Richard, smiling, wished to know if he meant 
 Adrian ? 
 
 " No, no ! " Ripton hurriedly reassured him. 
 " Austin." 
 
 The same idea was knocking at Richard's head. 
 
 " Let 's get the rope and file first," said he, 
 and to Bursley they went for those implements 
 to defeat the law, Ripton procuring the file at 
 one shop, and Richard the rope at another ; with 
 such masterly cunning did they lay their mea- 
 sures for the avoidance of every possible chance 
 of detection. And better to assure this, in a 
 wood outside Bursley Richard stripped to his 
 shirt and wound the rope round his body, tast- 
 ing the tortures of anchorites and penitential 
 friars, that nothing should be risked to make 
 
JUVENILE STRATAGEMS. 139 
 
 Tom's escape a certainty. Sir Austin saw the 
 marks at night, as his son lay asleep, through 
 the half-opened folds of his bed-gown, and won- 
 dered afresh, but decided still to watch. 
 
 It was a severe stroke when, after all their 
 stratagems and trouble, Austin Wentworth re- 
 fused the office the boys had zealously designed 
 for him. Time pressed. In a few days poor 
 Tom would have to face the redoubtable Sir 
 Miles, and get committed, for rumours of over- 
 whelming evidence to convict him were rife about 
 Lobourne, and farmer Blaize's wrath was un- 
 appeasable. Again and again young Richard 
 begged his cousin not to see him disgraced, and 
 to help him in this extremity. Austin was firm 
 in his refusal. 
 
 " My dear Ricky," said he, " there are two 
 ways of getting out of a scrape : a long way, 
 and a short way. When you 've tried the round- 
 about method, and failed, come to me, and I '11 
 show you the straight route." 
 
 Richard was too entirely bent upon the round- 
 about method to consider this advice more than 
 empty words, and only ground his teeth at 
 Austin's unkind refusal. 
 
140 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 He imparted to Ripton, at the eleventh hour, 
 that they must do it themselves, to which Ripton 
 heavily assented. 
 
 On the day preceding poor Tom's doomed 
 appearance before the magistrate, Dame Bake- 
 well had an interview with Austin, who went 
 to Raynham immediately, and sought Adrian's 
 counsel what was to be done. Homeric laughter 
 and nothing else could be got out of Adrian 
 when he heard of the doings of these desperate 
 boys : HoAv they had entered Dame Bakewell's 
 smallest of retail shops, and purchased tea, sugar, 
 candles, and comfits of every description, till the 
 shop was clear of customers : how they had then 
 hurried her into her little back-parlour, where 
 Richard had torn open his shirt and revealed the 
 coils of rope, and Ripton displayed the point of a 
 file from a serpentine recess in his jacket : how 
 they had then told the astonished woman that 
 the rope she saw and the file she saw were in- 
 struments for the liberation of her son ; that there 
 existed no other means on earth to save him, 
 they, the boys, having unsuccessfully attempted 
 all : how upon that Richard had tried with the 
 utmost earnestness to persuade her to disrobe 
 
JUVENILE STRATAGEMS. 141 
 
 and wind the rope round her own person ; and 
 Ripton had ah^ed his eloquence to induce her to 
 secrete the file : how, when she resolutely object- 
 ed to the rope, both boys began backing the file, 
 and in an evil hour, she feared, said Dame Bake- 
 well, she had rewarded the gracious permission 
 given her by Sir Miles Papworth to visit her 
 son, by tempting Tom to file the Law. Though, 
 thanks be to the Lord ! Dame Bakewell added, 
 Tom had turned up his nose at the file, and so 
 she had told young Master Richard, who swore 
 very bad for a young gentleman. 
 
 " Boys are like monkeys," remarked Adrian, at 
 the close of his explosions, "the gravest actors 
 of farcical nonsense that the world possesses. 
 May I never be where there are no boys ! A 
 couple of boys left to themselves will furnish 
 richer fun than any troop of trained comedians. 
 No : no Art arrives at the artlessness of Nature 
 in matters of Comedy. You can 't simulate the 
 Ape. Your antics are dull. They haven't the 
 charming inconsequence of the natural animal. 
 Look at these two ! Think of the shifts they are 
 put to all day long ! They know I know all 
 about it, and yet their serenity of innocence is all 
 
142 THE ORDEAL OF RICHAUD FEVEREL. 
 
 bat unruffled in my presence. — You're sorry to 
 think about the end of the business, Austin ? So 
 am I ! I dread the idea of the curtain going 
 down. Besides, it will do Ricky a world of 
 good. A practical lesson is the best lesson." 
 
 " Sinks deepest/' said Austin, " but whether 
 he learns good or evil from it is the question at 
 stake." 
 
 Adrian stretched his length at ease. 
 
 "This will be his first nibble at Experience, 
 old Time's fruit, hateful to the palate of youth ! 
 for which season only hath it any nourishment ! 
 Experience ! You know Coleridge's capital si- 
 mile ?— Mom-nful you call it ? Well ! all Wis- 
 dom is mournful. 'Tis therefore, coz, that the 
 Wise do love the Comic Muse. Their own high 
 food would kill them. You shall find great poets, 
 rare philosophers, night after night on the broad 
 grin before a row of yellow lights and mouth- 
 ing masks. Why ? because all 's dark at home. 
 The Stage is the pastime of great minds. That 's 
 how it comes that the Stage is now down. An 
 Age of rampant little minds — pshaw ! my dear 
 Austin ! how I hate that cant of yours about an 
 Age of Work — you, and your Mortons, and your 
 
JUVENILE STRATAGEMS. 143 
 
 parsons Brawnley, rank Radicals all of you, base 
 Materialists ! What does Diaper Sandoe sing of 
 your Age of Work ? Listen ! 
 
 " An Age of petty tit for tat, 
 An Age of busy gabble : 
 An Age that 's like a brewer's vat 
 Eermenting for the rabble ! 
 
 " An Age that 's chaste in Love, but lax 
 To virtuous abuses : 
 Whose gentlemen and ladies wax 
 Too dainty for their uses. 
 
 " An Age which drives an Iron Horse 
 Of Time and Space defiant : 
 Exulting in a Giant's Force, 
 And trembling at the Giant. 
 
 " An Age of Quaker hue and cut, 
 By Mammon misbegotten ; 
 See the mad Hamlet mouth and strut ! 
 And mark the Kino:s of Cotton ! 
 
 o 
 
 " From this unrest, lo, early wreck' d, 
 A Future staggers crazy, 
 Ophelia of the Ages, deck'd 
 With woful weed and daisy ! " 
 
 Murmuring, " Get your parson Brawnley to 
 
144 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 answer that ! " Adrian changed the resting-place 
 of a leg, and smiled. The Age was an old battle- 
 field between him and Austin. 
 
 " My parson Brawnley, as you call him, has 
 answered it," said Austin, "not by hoping his 
 best, which would probably leave the Age to go 
 mad to your satisfaction, but by doing it. And 
 he has and will answer your Diaper Sandoe in 
 better verse, as he confutes him in a better 
 life." 
 
 " You don't see Sandoe's depth," Adrian re- 
 phed. " Consider that phrase, ' Ophelia of the 
 Ages ! ' Is not Brawnley, like a dozen other 
 leading spirits — I think that 's your term — ^just 
 the metaphysical Hamlet to drive her mad ? She, 
 poor maid ! asks for Marriage and smihng babes, 
 while my lord lover stands questioning the In- 
 finite, and rants to the Impalpable." 
 
 Austin laughed. " Marriage, and smiling 
 babes she would have in abundance, if Brawnley 
 legislated. Wait till you know him. He will 
 he over at Poer Hall shortly, and you will see 
 what a Man of the Age means. But now pray 
 consult with me about these boys." 
 
 " Oh, those boys ! " Adrian tossed a hand. 
 
JUVENILE STRATAGEMS. 145 
 
 "Are there boys of the Age as well as men? 
 Not ? Then boys are better than men : boys 
 are for all Ages. What do you think, Austin ? 
 They Ve been studying Latude's Escape. I found 
 the book open in Ricky's room, on the top of 
 Jonathan Wild. Jonathan preserved the secrets 
 of his profession, and taught them nothing. So 
 they're going to make a Latude of Mr. Tom 
 Bakewell. He 's to be Bastille Bake well, whether 
 he will or no. Let them. Let the wild colt run 
 free ! We can't help them. We can only look 
 on. We should spoil the play. Keep out of 
 it, if you 're wise, Austin, or possibly they '11 be 
 turning from Tom to you and insist on your 
 swallowing the famous file to save Tom from 
 transportation." 
 
 Adrian always made a point of feeding the 
 fretful beast, Lnpatience, with pleasantries; a 
 not congenial diet ; and Austin, the most pa- 
 tient of human beings, began to lose his self-con- 
 trol. 
 
 " You talk as if Time belonged to you, Adrian. 
 We have but a few hours left us. Work first, 
 and joke afterwards. The boy's fate is being de- 
 cided now." 
 
 VOL. I. L 
 
146 THE ORDEAL OF RTCHAUD EEVEREL. 
 
 " So is everybody's, my dear Austin !" yawned 
 the Epicurean. 
 
 "Yes, but this boy is at present under our 
 guardianship : under yours especially." 
 
 " Not yet ! not yet!" Adrian interjected lan- 
 guidly. " No getting into scrapes when I have 
 him. The leash, young hound ! The collar, 
 young colt ! I 'm perfectly irresponsible at pre- 
 sent." 
 
 "You may have something different to deal 
 with, when you are responsible, if you think 
 that." 
 
 " I take my young Prince as I find him, coz : 
 a Julian, or a Caracalla : a Constantine, or a 
 Nero. Then if he will play the fiddle to a con- 
 flagration, he shall play it well : if he must be a 
 disputatious apostate, at any rate, he shall un- 
 derstand logic and men, and have the habit of 
 saying his prayers." 
 
 "Then you leave me to act alone?" said 
 Austin, rising. 
 
 "Without a single curb!" Adrian gesticu- 
 lated an acquiesced withdrawal. " I 'm sure you 
 would not, still more certain you cannot, do 
 harm. And be mindful of my prophetic words : 
 
JUVENILE STRATAGEMS. 147 
 
 Whatever 's done, Old Blaize will have to be 
 bought off. There 's the affair settled at once. 
 I suppose I must go to the Chief to-night, and 
 settle it myself. We can't see this poor devil 
 condemned, though it's nonsense to talk of a 
 boy being the prime instigator." 
 
 Austin cast an eye at the complacent languor 
 of the Wise Youth, his cousin, and the little that 
 he knew of his fellows told him he might talk 
 for ever here, and not be comprehended. The 
 Wise Youth's two ears were stuffed with his own 
 wisdom. One evil only Adrian dreaded, it w^as 
 clear : the action of the Law. Austin saw it 
 sadly, and foreboded of Richard's future. 
 
 As he was moving away, Adrian called out to 
 him, " Stop, Austin ! There ! don't be anxious ! 
 You invariably take the glum side. I 've done 
 something. Never mind what. If you go down 
 to Belthorpe, be civil, but not obsequious. You 
 remember the tactics of Scipio Africanus against 
 the Punic elephants ? Well, don't say a word : 
 — in thine ear, coz : I 've turned Master Blaize's 
 elephants. If they charge, 'twill be a feint, and 
 back to the destruction of his serried ranks ! You 
 understand. Not ? Well, 'tis as well. Only let 
 
148 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 none say that I sleep. If I must see him to- 
 night, I go down knowing he has not got us 
 in his power/' The Wise Youth yawned, and 
 stretched out a hand for any book that might be 
 within his reach. Austin left him, to look about 
 the gi'ounds for Richard. 
 
149 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 DAPHNE'S BOWER. 
 
 A LITTLE laurel- shaded Temple of white marble 
 looked out on the river from a knoll bordering 
 the Raynham beechwoods, and was dubbed by 
 Adrian Daphne's Bower. To this spot Richard 
 had retired, and there Austin found him with his 
 head buried in his hands, a picture of Despe- 
 ration w^hose last shift has been defeated. He 
 allowed iVustin to greet him, and sit by him, 
 without lifting his head. Perhaps his eyes were 
 not presentable. 
 
 " Where's your friend?" Austin began. 
 
 " Gone !" was the answer, sounding cavernous 
 from behind hair and fingers. An explanation 
 presently followed, as Ripton's due, that a sum- 
 mons had come for him in the morning from 
 Mr. Thompson ; and that Ripton had departed 
 against his will. 
 
 In fact Ripton had protested that he would 
 
150 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD EEVEREL. 
 
 defy his parent and remain by his friend in the 
 hour of adversity and at the post of danger. Sir 
 Austin signified his opinion that a boy should 
 obey his parent, by giving orders to Heavy Ben- 
 son for Ripton's box to be packed and ready be- 
 fore noon; and Ripton's alacrity in taking the 
 Baronet's view of fihal duty, was as little feigned 
 as his offer to Richard to throw filial duty to the 
 winds. He rejoiced that the Fates had agreed 
 to remove him from the very hot neighbourhood 
 Lobourne, while he grieved, like an honest lad, to 
 see his comrade left to face calamity alone. The 
 boys parted amicably as they could hardly fail to 
 do, when Ripton had sworn fealty to the Eeverels 
 with a fervour that made him declare himself 
 bond and due to appear at any stated hour and 
 at any stated place to fight all the farmers in Eng- 
 land, on a mandate from the heir of the House. 
 
 " So you 're left alone," said Austin, contem- 
 plating the boy's shapely head. " I 'm glad of it. 
 We never know what's in us till we stand by 
 ourselves." 
 
 There appeared to be no answer forthcoming. 
 Vanity, however, replied at last : "He wasn't 
 much support." 
 
daphne's bower. 151 
 
 " Remember his good points, now he's gone, 
 Ricky." 
 
 " Oh ! he was staunch," the boy grumbled. 
 
 " And a staunch friend is not always to be 
 found. Now, have you tried your own way of 
 rectifying this business, Ricky?" 
 
 " I've done everything." 
 
 "And failed!" 
 
 There was a pause, and then the deep-toned 
 evasion, 
 
 " Tom Bakewell 's a coward !" 
 
 " I suppose, poor fellow," said Austin, in his 
 kind way, " he doesn't want to get into a deeper 
 mess. I don't think he's a coward." 
 
 " He is a coward," cried Richard fiercely. 
 " Do you think, if I had a file, I would stay in 
 prison? I'd be out the first night! The mi- 
 serable churl ! And he might have had the rope, 
 too — a rope thick enough for a couple of men 
 his size and weight. Ripton and I and Ned 
 Markham swung on it for an hour, and it didn't 
 give. He's a coward, and deserves his fate. I've 
 no compassion for a coward." 
 
 " Nor I much," said Austin. 
 
 Richard had raised his head in the heat of his 
 
152 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 denunciation of poor Tom. He would have hid- 
 den it, had he known the thought in Austin's 
 clear eyes w^hile he faced them. 
 
 " I never met a coward myself/' Austin con- 
 tinued. " I have heard of one or two. One let 
 an innocent man die for him." 
 
 " How base !" exclaimed the boy. 
 
 " Yes, it was bad," Austin acquiesced. 
 
 " Bad !" Richard scorned the poor contempt. 
 " How I would have spurned him ! He was a 
 coward!" 
 
 " I believe he pleaded the feelings of his family 
 in his excuse, and tried every means to get him 
 off. I have read also in the Confessions of a 
 celebrated philosopher, that in his youth he com- 
 mitted some act of pilfering, and accused a young 
 servant-girl of his own theft, who was condemned 
 and dismissed for it, pardoning her guilty ac- 
 cuser." 
 
 " What a coward !" shouted Richard. " And 
 he confessed it publicly?" 
 
 " You may read it yom-self." 
 
 '' He actually wrote it down, and printed it?" 
 
 " You have the book in your Father's library. 
 Would you have done so much?" 
 
daphne's bower. 153 
 
 Richard faltered. No ! he admitted that he 
 never could have told people. 
 
 "Then who is to call that man a coward?" 
 said Austin. " He expiated his cowardice, as 
 all who give way in moments of weakness, and 
 are not cowards, must do. The coward chooses 
 to think * God does not see. I shall escape.' 
 He who is not a coward, and has succumbed, 
 knows that God has seen all, and it is not so 
 hard a task for him to make his heart bare to 
 the world. Worse, I should fancy it, to know 
 myself an impostor when men praised me." 
 
 Young Richard's eyes were wandering on 
 Austin's gravely cheerful face. A keen intent- 
 ness suddenly fixed them, and he dropped his 
 head. 
 
 '' So I think you 're wrong, Ricky, in calling 
 this poor Tom a coward, because he refuses to 
 try your means of escape," Austin resumed. " A 
 coward hardly objects to drag in his accompHce. 
 And where the person involved belongs to a 
 great family, it seems to me that for a poor 
 ploughlad to volunteer not to do so, speaks him 
 anything but a coward." 
 
 Richard was silent. Altogether to surrender 
 
154 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 his Rope and File was a fearful sacrifice, after all 
 the time, trepidation, and study, he had spent on 
 those two saving instruments. If he avowed 
 Tom's manly behaviour, Richard Peverel was in a 
 totally new position. Whereas, by keeping Tom 
 a coward, Richard Feverel was the injured one, 
 and to seem injured is always a luxury; some- 
 times a necessity, whether among boys or men. 
 
 In Austin the Magian conflict would not have 
 lasted long. He had but a blind notion of the 
 fierceness with which it raged in young Richard. 
 Happily for the boy, Austin was not a preacher. 
 A single insistance, a cant phrase, a fatherly 
 manner, might have wrecked him, by arousing 
 ancient, or latent, opposition. The born preacher 
 we feel instinctively to be our foe. He may do 
 some good to the wretches that have been struck 
 down, and he gasping on the battle-field : he 
 rouses deadly antagonism in the strong. Rich- 
 ard's nature, left to itseK, wanted little more than 
 an indication of the proper track, and when he 
 said, " Tell me what I can do, Austin?" he had 
 fought the best half of the battle. His voice 
 was subdued. Austin put his hand on the boy's 
 shoulder. 
 
daphne's boaver. 155 
 
 " You must go down to farmer Blaize." 
 
 "Well!" said Richard, sullenly divining the 
 deed of penance. 
 
 " You '11 know what to say to him when 
 you 're there." 
 
 The boy bit his lip, and frowned. " Ask a 
 favour of that big brute, Austin ? I can't !" 
 
 " Just tell him the whole case, and that you 
 don't intend to stand by and let the poor fellow 
 suffer without a friend to help him out of his 
 scrape." 
 
 "But, Austin!" the boy pleaded, "I shall 
 have to ask him to help off Tom Bakewell ! How 
 can I ask him, when I hate him?" 
 
 Without seeking to confute this logical pro- 
 position, Austin bade him go, and think nothing 
 of the consequences till he got there. 
 
 Richard groaned in soul. 
 
 " You 've no pride, Austin." 
 
 " Perhaps not," Austin calmly avowed. 
 
 " You don't know, what it is to ask a favour 
 of a brute you hate." 
 
 Richard stuck to that view of the case, and 
 stuck to it the faster the more imperatively the 
 urgency of a movement dawned upon him. 
 
156 THE ORDEAL OF EICHATID FEVEREL. 
 
 " Why/' continued the boy, " I shall hardly 
 be able to keep my fists off him ! " 
 
 " Surely you 've punished him enough, boy ? " 
 said Austin. 
 
 " He struck me !" Richard's lip quivered. "He 
 dared not come at me with his hands. He 
 struck me with a whip. He '11 be telling every- 
 body that he horsewhipped me, and that I went 
 down and begged his pardon. Begged his par- 
 don ! A Feverel beg his pardon ! Oh, if I had 
 my will ! " 
 
 "The man earns his bread, Ricky. You poached 
 on his grounds. He turned you off, and you 
 fired his rick." 
 
 " And I'll pay him for his loss. And I won't 
 do any more." 
 
 " Because you won't ask a favour of him ? " 
 
 "No ! I will not ask a favour of him." 
 
 Austin looked at the boy steadily. " You pre- 
 fer to receive a favour from poor Tom Bake well ?" 
 
 At Austin's slow enunciation of this obverse 
 view of the matter, Richard raised his brow. 
 Dimly a new light broke in upon him. " Favour 
 from Tom Bakewell, the ploughman? How do 
 you mean, Austin ? " 
 
daphne's bower. 157 
 
 To save yourself an unpleasantness, you permit 
 a country lad to sacrifice himself for you? I 
 confess I should not have so much pride." 
 
 " Pride !" shouted Richard, stung by the taunt, 
 and set his sight hard at the blue ridges of the 
 hills. 
 
 Not knowing for the moment what else to do, 
 Austin drew a picture of Tom in prison, and re- 
 peated Tom's volunteer statements The picture, 
 though his intentions were far from designing it 
 so, had to Richard, whose perception of humour 
 was infinitely keener, a horrible chaw-bacon smack 
 about it. Visions of a grinning lout, open from 
 ear to ear, unkempt, coarse, splay-footed, rose 
 before him and afflicted him with the strangest 
 sensations of disgust and comicality, mixed up 
 with pity and remorse : a sort of twisted pathos. 
 There lay Tom ; hob-nail Tom ! a bacon-munch- 
 ing, reckless, beer-swilling animal ! and yet a 
 man ; a dear brave human heart notwithstand- 
 ing ; capable of devotion and unselfishness. The 
 boy's better spirit was touched, and kindled his 
 imagination to realize the abject figure of poor 
 clodpole Tom, and surround it with a halo of 
 momiiful light. His soul was alive. Feelings he 
 
158 THE 0RDE.4L OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 had never known streamed in upon him, as from 
 an ethereal casement : an unwonted tenderness : 
 an embracing humour : a consciousness of some 
 ineffable glory : an irradiation of the features of 
 humanity. All this was in the bosom of the boy, 
 and through it all, the vision of an actual hob- 
 nail Tom, coarse, unkempt, open from ear to ear ; 
 whose presence was a finger of shame to him, and 
 an oppression of clodpole ; yet towards whom he 
 felt just then a loving-kindness beyond what he 
 felt for any living creature. He laughed at him, 
 and wept over him. He prized him, while he 
 shrank from him. It was a genial strife of the 
 Angel in him with constituents less divine : but 
 the Angel was uppermost and led the van : ex- 
 tinguished loathing : humanized laughter : trans- 
 figured Pride — Pride that would persistently con- 
 template the corduroys of gaping Tom, and cry 
 to Richard, in the very tone of Adrian's ironic 
 voice : ' Behold your benefactor ! ' 
 
 Austin sat by the boy, unaware of the sublimer 
 tumult he had stirred. Little of it was percep- 
 tible in Richard's countenance. The lines of his 
 mouth were slightly drawn; his eyes still hard 
 set into the distance. He remained thus many 
 
daphne's bower. 159 
 
 minutes. Finally he jumped to his legs, saying, 
 " I'll go at once to old Blaize, and tell him." 
 Austin grasped his hand, and together they is- 
 sued out of Daphne's Bower, in the direction of 
 Lobourne. 
 
160 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 THE BITTEK CUP. 
 
 Parmer Blaize was not so astonished at the visit 
 of Richard Peverel, as that young gentleman ex- 
 pected him to be. The farmer, seated in his easy- 
 chair in the Httle low-roofed parlour of an old- 
 fashioned farmhouse, with a long clay -pipe on the 
 table at his elbow, and a veteran pointer at his 
 feet, had already given audience to three distin- 
 guished members of the Eeverel blood, who had 
 come separately, according to their accustomed 
 secretiveness, and with one object. In the morn- 
 ing it was Sir Austin himself. Shortly after his 
 departure, arrived Austin Wentworth; close on 
 his heels, Algernon, known about Lobourne as, the 
 Captain, popular wherever he was known. Far- 
 mer Blaize reclined in considerable elation. He 
 had brought these great people to a pretty low 
 pitch. He had welcomed them hospitably, as a 
 
THE BITTER CUP. 161 
 
 British yeoman should ; but not budged a foot in 
 his demands : not to the Baronet : not to the Cap- 
 tain : not to good young Mr. Wentworth. For far- 
 mer Blaize was a soHd Enghshman, and on hear- 
 ing from the Baronet a frank confession of the hold 
 he had on the family, he determined to tighten 
 his hold, and only relax it in exchange for tan- 
 gible advantages : compensation to his pocket, his 
 wounded person, and his still more wounded feel- 
 ings : the total indemnity being, in round figures, 
 three hundred pounds, and a spoken apology from 
 the prime offender, young Mister Richard. Even 
 then, there was a reservation. Provided, the far- 
 mer said, nobody had been tampering with any 
 of his witnesses. In that case, farmer Blaize de- 
 clared, the money might go, and he would trans- 
 port Tom Bakewell, as he had sworn he would. 
 And it goes hard, too, with an accomplice, by Law, 
 added the farmer, knocking the ashes leisurely 
 out of his pipe. He had no wish to bring any 
 disgrace anywhere, had farmer Blaize. He re- 
 spected the inmates of Raynham Abbey, as in 
 duty bound. He should be sorry to see them 
 in trouble. Only no tampering with his wit- 
 nesses. He was a man for Law. Rank was much : 
 
 VOL. I. M 
 
162 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 money was much : but Law was more. In this 
 country, Law was above the sovereign. To tam- 
 per w^ith the Law was treason to the realm. 
 
 " I come to you direct/' the Baronet explained: 
 " I tell you candidly in what way I discovered my 
 son to be mixed up in this miserable affair. I 
 promise you indemnity for your loss, and an apo- 
 logy that shall, I trust, satisfy your feelings, as- 
 suring you that to tamper with witnesses is not 
 the province of a Feverel. All I ask of you in 
 return is, not to press the prosecution. At present 
 it rests with you. I am bound to do all that lies 
 in my power for this imprisoned man. How and 
 wherefore my son was prompted to suggest, or 
 assist in, such an act, I cannot explain, for I do 
 not know." 
 
 " Hum !" said the farmer. " I think I do." 
 
 "You know the cause?" Sir Austin stared. 
 " I beg you to confide it to me." 
 
 " — Least, I can pretty nigh neighbour it with 
 a guess," said the farmer. " We an't good friends, 
 Sir Aust'n, me and your son, jest now : not to say 
 cordial. I, ye see, Sir Aust'n, I'm a man as don't 
 like young gentlemen a-poachin''. on his grounds 
 without his permission, — in 'special when birds is 
 
THE BITTEU CUP. 163 
 
 plentiful on their own. It appear lie do like it. 
 Consequently I has to flick this whip — as them 
 fallers at the races : All in this 'ere Ring 's mine ! 
 as much as to say ; and who 's been hit, he 's had 
 fair warnin'. I'm sorry for 't, but that 's jest the 
 case." 
 
 Sir Austin retired to communicate with his son, 
 when he should find him. 
 
 Algernon's interview passed off in Ale and 
 promises. He also assured farmer Blaize that 
 no Feverel could be affected by his proviso. 
 
 No less did Austin Wentworth. The farmer 
 was satisfied. " Money 's safe, I know," said he ; 
 " now for the 'pology ! " and Farmer Blaize thrust 
 his legs further out, and his head further back. 
 
 The farmer naturally reflected that the three 
 separate visits had been conspired together. 
 Still the Baronet's frankness, and the Baronet's 
 not having reserved himself for the third and 
 final charge, puzzled him. He was consider- 
 ing whether they were a deep, or a shallow, lot, 
 w^hen young Richard was announced. 
 
 A pretty little girl with the roses of thirteen 
 springs in her cheeks, and abundant beautiful 
 bright tresses, tripped before the boy, and loi- 
 
164 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 tered shyly by the farmer's arm-chair to steal a 
 look at the handsome new-comer. She was intro- 
 duced to Kichard as the farmer's niece, Lucy 
 Desborough, the daughter of a lieutenant in the 
 Royal Navy, and, what was better, though the 
 farmer did not pronounce it so loudly, a real 
 good girl. 
 
 Neither the excellence of her character, nor 
 her rank in life, tempted Richard to inspect the 
 little lady. He made an awkward bow, and sat 
 down. 
 
 The farmer's eyes twinkled. " Her father," 
 he continued, " fought and fell for his coontry. 
 A man as fights for 's coontry, 's a right to hould 
 up his head — ay ! with any in the land. Des- 
 b'rough's o' Dorset ! d' ye know that family. Mas- 
 ter Feverel ? " 
 
 Richard did not know them, and, by his air, 
 did not desire to become acquainted with any 
 offshoot of that family. 
 
 ". She can make puddens and pies," the farmer 
 went on, regardless of his auditor's gloom. " She 's 
 a lady, as good as the best of 'em. I don't care 
 about their being Catholics — the Desb'roughs 
 o' Dorset are gentlemen. And she 's good for 
 
THE BITTER CUP. 165 
 
 the pianer, too ! She strums to me of evenin's. 
 I 'm for the old tunes : she 's for the new. 
 Gal-Hke ! While she 's with me, she shall be 
 taught things use'l. She can parleyvoo a good 
 'un and foot it, as it goes : been in France a 
 couple o' year. I prefer the singin' of 't, to the 
 talkin' of 't. Come, Luce ! toon up — eh ? — Ye 
 wun't ? That song about the Viffendeer — a fe- 
 male" — farmer Blaize volunteered the translation 
 of the title — " who wears the — you guess what ! 
 and marches along with the French sojers : 
 A pretty brazen bit o' goods ! I sh'd fancy." 
 
 Mademoiselle Lucy corrected her uncle's 
 French, but objected to do more. The hand- 
 some cross boy had almost taken away her voice 
 for speech, as it was, and sing in his company 
 she could not ; so she stood, a hand on her 
 uncle's chair to stay herself from falling, while 
 she wriggled a dozen various shapes of refusal, 
 and shook her head at the farmer with fixed 
 eyes. 
 
 " Aha ! " laughed the farmer, dismissing her, 
 " they soon learn the difference 'twixt the young 
 'iin and the old 'un. Go along, Luce ! and learn 
 jer lessons for tomorrow." 
 
166 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 Reluctantly the daughter of the Royal Navy 
 glided away. Her uncle's head followed her to 
 the door, where she dallied to catch a last im- 
 pression of the young stranger's lowering face, 
 and darted through. 
 
 Farmer Blaize laughed and chuckled. '' She 
 an't so fond of her uncle as that, every day ! 
 Not that she an't a good nurse — the kindest 
 little soul you 'd meet of a winter's walk ! She '11 
 read t' ye, and make drinks, and sing, too, if 
 ye likes it, and she won't be tired. A obstinate 
 good 'un, she be ! Bless her ! " 
 
 The farmer may have designed, by these 
 eulogies of his niece, to give his visitor time to 
 recover his composure, and estabhsh a common 
 topic. His diversion only irritated and confused 
 our shame-eaten youth. Richard's intention had 
 been to come to the farmer's threshold : to 
 summon the farmer thither, and in a loud and 
 haughty tone then and there to take upon him- 
 self the whole burden of the charge against Tom 
 Bakewell. He had strayed, during his passage 
 to Belthorpe, somewhat back to his old nature ; 
 and his being compelled to enter the house of 
 his enemy, sit in his chair, and endure an intra- 
 
THE BITTER CUP. 167 
 
 duction to his family, was more than he bar- 
 gained for. He commenced blinking hard in 
 preparation for the horrible dose to which delay 
 and the farmer's cordiality added inconceivable 
 bitters. Farmer Blaize was quite at his ease : 
 nowise in a hurry. He spoke of the weather 
 and the harvest : of recent doings up at the 
 Abbey : glanced over that year's cricketing : 
 hoped that no future Feverel would lose a leg 
 to the game. Richard saw and heard Arson 
 in it all. He blinked harder, as he neared the 
 cup. In a moment of silence, he seized it with 
 a gasp. 
 
 " Mr. Blaize ! I have come to tell you that I 
 am the person who set fire to your rick the 
 other night." 
 
 An odd contraction formed about the farmer's 
 mouth. He changed his posture, and said, 
 " Ay ? that 's what ye 're come to tall me, 
 Sir?" 
 
 " Yes ! " said Richard firmly. 
 
 "And that be all?" 
 
 " Yes ! " Richard reiterated. 
 
 The farmer again changed his posture. " Then, 
 my lad, ye 've come to tall me a lie ! " 
 
168 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 Farmer Blaize looked straight at the boy, un- 
 dismayed by the dark flush of ire he had kin- 
 dled. 
 
 " You dare to call me a liar ! " cried Richard, 
 starting up. 
 
 " I say,'' the farmer renewed his first empha- 
 sis, and smacked his thigh thereto, " that 's a 
 lie ! " 
 
 Richard was mounting the white cockade of 
 the Feverels. He held out his clenched fist. 
 '* You have twice insulted me. You have struck 
 me : you have dared to call me a liar. I would 
 have apologized — I would have asked your par- 
 don, to have got ofi" that fellow in prison. Yes ! 
 I would have degraded myself that another man 
 should not suff'er for my deed — " 
 
 " Quite proper ! " interposed the farmer. 
 
 " And you take this opportunity of insulting 
 me afresh. You 're a coward, Sir ! nobody but 
 a coward would have insulted me in his own 
 house." 
 
 " Sit ye down, sit ye down, young Master," 
 said the farmer, indicating the chair and cool- 
 ing the outburst with his hand. " Sit ye down. 
 Don't ye be hasty. If ye hadn't been hasty 
 
THE BITTER CUP. 169 
 
 t' other day, we sli'd a been friends yet. Sit 
 ye down, Sir. I sh'd be sorry to reckon you 
 out a liar, Mr. Feverel, or anybody o' your name. 
 I respects yer father, though we 're opp'site 
 pol'tics. I 'm wilhn' to think well o' you. What 
 I say is, that as you say an't the trewth. Mind ! 
 I don't like you none the worse for 't. But it an't 
 what is. That 's all ! You knows it as well 's 
 I!" 
 
 Richard, disdaining to shows signs of being 
 pacified, angrily reseated himself. The farmer 
 spoke sense, and the boy, after his late interview 
 with Austin, had become capable of perceiving 
 vaguely that a towering passion is hardly the jus- 
 tification for a wrong course of conduct. 
 
 " Come," continued the farmer, not unkindly, 
 " what else have you to say ? " 
 
 Here was the same bitter cup he had already 
 once drained, brimming at Richard's hps again ! 
 Alas, poor human nature ! that empties to the 
 dregs a dozen of these evil drinks, to evade the 
 single one Destiny, less cruel, had insisted upon. 
 
 The boy blinked, and tossed it off. 
 
 " I came to say, that I regretted the revenge 
 I had taken on you for your striking me." 
 
170 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 Farmer Blaize nodded. 
 
 " And now ye 've done, young gentleman ? " 
 
 Still another cupful ! 
 
 " I should be very much obliged/' Richard 
 formally began : but his stomach was turned ; 
 he could but sip and sip, and gather a distaste 
 which threatened to make the penitential act 
 impossible. " Very much obliged," he repeated : 
 "much obliged, if you would be so kind," and 
 it struck him that had he spoken this at first, 
 he would have given it a wording more persua- 
 sive with the farmer and more worthy of his own 
 pride : more honest, in fact : for a sense of the 
 dishonesty of what he was saying, caused him 
 to cringe and simulate humility to deceive the 
 farmer, and the more he said, the less he felt his 
 words, and feeling them less, he inflated them 
 more. " So kind," he stammered, " so kind" 
 (fancy a Eeverel asking this big brute to be so 
 kind !) " as to do me the favour" {me the favour !) 
 " to exert yourself" (it's all to please Austin) " to 
 endeavour to — hem ! to" (there's no saying it !) 
 
 The cup was full as ever. Richard dashed at 
 it again. 
 
 " What I came to ask is, whether you would 
 
THE BITTER CUP. 171 
 
 have the kindness to try what you could do " 
 (what an infamous shame to have to beg like 
 this !) " do to save — do to ensure — whether you 
 would have the kindness — ". It seemed out of 
 all human power to gulp it down. The draught 
 grew more and more abhorrent. To proclaim 
 one's iniquity : to apologize for one's wrong- 
 doing : thus much could be done : but to beg a 
 favour of the offended party — that was beyond 
 the self-abasement any Feverel could consent to. 
 Pride, however, w^hose inevitable battle is against 
 itself, drew aside the curtains of poor Tom's pri- 
 son, crying a second time, ' Behold your Bene- 
 factor ! ' and with the words burning in his ears, 
 Richard swallowed the dose : 
 
 " Well, then ! I want you, Mr. Blaize,— if you 
 don't mind — will you help me to get this man 
 Bakewell off his punishment ? " 
 
 To do farmer Blaize justice, he waited very pa- 
 tiently for the boy, though he could not quite see 
 why he did not take the gate at the first offer. 
 
 " Oh !" said he, when he heard and had pon- 
 dered on the request : " Hum ! hah ! we '11 see 
 about it t'morrow. But if he 's inn'cent, ye 
 know, we shan 't make 'n guilty." 
 
172 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 ^' It was I did it ! " Richard declared. 
 
 The farmer's half-amused expression sharpened 
 a bit. 
 
 " So, young gentleman ! and yer sorry for the 
 night's work ? " 
 
 " I shall see that you are paid the full extent 
 of your losses." 
 
 " Thank'ee/' said the farmer drily. 
 
 " And if this poor man is released tomorrow, 
 I don't care what the amount is." 
 
 Farmer Blaize deflected his head twice in si- 
 lence. ' Bribery,' one motion expressed : * Corrup- 
 tion,' the other. 
 
 " Now," said he, leaning forward, and fixing 
 his elbows on his knees, while he counted the 
 case at his fingers' ends, " ascuse the liberty, but 
 wishin' to know where this 'ere money 's to come 
 from, sh'd like jest t' ask if so be Sir Aust'n know 
 o'this?" 
 
 " My father knows nothing of it," replied Ri- 
 chard. 
 
 The farmer flung back in his chair. ' Lie 
 number Two,' said his shoulders, soured by the 
 British aversion to being plotted at, and not 
 dealt with openly. 
 
THE BITTER CUP. 173 
 
 " And je 've the money ready, young gentle- 
 manr 
 
 " I shall ask my father for it." 
 
 " And he '11 hand 't out ? " 
 
 " Certamly he will ! " 
 
 Richard had not the slightest intention of ever 
 letting his father into his coansels. 
 
 " A good three hundred pounds, ye know ? " 
 the farmer suggested. 
 
 No consideration of the extent of damages, and 
 the size of the sum, affected young Richard, who 
 said boldly, " He will not object to pay it, when 
 I tell him." 
 
 It was natural Farmer Blaize should be a trifle 
 suspicious that a youth's guarantee would hardly 
 be given for his father's readiness to disburse 
 such a thumping bill, unless he had previously 
 received his father's sanction and authority. 
 
 "Hum ! " said he, "why not 'a told him before ? " 
 
 The farmer threw an objectionable shrewdness 
 into his query, that caused Richard to compress 
 his mouth and glance high. 
 
 Farmer Blaize was positive 't was a lie. 
 
 " Hum ! " " Ye still hold to 't you fired the 
 rick ? " he asked. 
 
174 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 " The blame is mine ! " quotli Richard, with the 
 loftiness of a patriot of old Rome. 
 
 " Na, na !" the straightforward Briton put him 
 aside. " Ye did 't, or ye didn't do 't. Did ye do 't, 
 
 Thrust in a corner, Richard said, " I did it." 
 Farmer Blaize reached his hand to the bell. It 
 was answered in an instant by little Lucy, who 
 received orders to fetch in a dependant at Bel- 
 thorpe going by the name of the Bantam, and 
 made her exit as she had entered, with her eyes 
 on the young stranger. 
 
 " Now," said the farmer, " these be my prin- 
 ciples. I 'm a plain man, Mr. Feverel. Above 
 board with me, and ye '11 find me handsome. 
 Try to circumvent me, and I 'm a ugly customer. 
 I '11 show you I 'ven't any-mosity. Your father 
 pays — you 'pologize. That 's enough for me ! 
 I'm a plain man. Let Tom Bakewell fight 't out 
 with the Law, and I '11 look on. The Law wasn't 
 on the spot, I suppose ? so the Law ain't much 
 witness. But I am. Leastwise the Bantam is. 
 I tell you, young gentleman, the Bantam saw 't ! 
 It 's no mortal use whatever your denyin' that 
 ev'dence. And where 's the good, Sir, I ask ? 
 
THE BITTER CUP. 175 
 
 What comes of 't ? "Whether it be you, or whe- 
 ther it be Tom Bakewell — ain't all one ? If I 
 holds back, ain't it sim'lar ? It 's the Trewth I 
 want ! And here 't comes," added the farmer, 
 as Miss Lucy ushered in the Bantam, who pre- 
 sented a curious figure for that rare divinity to 
 enliven. 
 
176 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 A EINE DISTINCTION. 
 
 In build of body, gait, and stature, Giles Jinkson, 
 the Bantam, was a tolerably fair representative of 
 the Punic Elephant, whose part, with diverse an- 
 ticipations, the generals of the Blaize, and Feverel, 
 forces, from opposing ranks, expected him to play. 
 Giles, surnamed the Bantam, on account of some 
 forgotten sally of his youth or infancy, moved 
 and looked elephantine. It sufficed that Giles 
 was well fed, to assure that Giles was faithful — if 
 uncorrupted. The farm which supplied to him 
 ungrudging provender, had all his vast capacity 
 for work in willing exercise : the farmer who held 
 the farm his instinct reverenced as the fountain- 
 source of Beef and Bacon, to say nothing of Beer, 
 which was plentiful at Belthorpe, and good. This, 
 farmer Blaize well knew, and reckoned conse- 
 quently that here was an animal always to be re- 
 
A FINE DISTINCTION. 177 
 
 lied on — a sort of human composition out of dog, 
 horse, and bull, a cut above each of these quadru- 
 peds in usefulness, and costing proportionately 
 more, but on the whole worth the money, and 
 therefore invaluable, as everything worth its mo- 
 ney must be to a wise man. When the stealing 
 of grain had been made known at Belthorpe, the 
 Bantam, a fellow-thresher with Tom Bakewell, 
 had shared with him the shadow of the guilt. 
 Farmer Blaize, if he hesitated which to suspect, 
 did not debate a second as to which he would 
 discard ; and when the Bantam said he had seen 
 Tom secreting pilkins in a sack, farmer Blaize 
 chose to believe him, and off went poor Tom, 
 told to rejoice in the clemency that spared his 
 appearance at Sessions. 
 
 The Bantam's small sleepy orbits saw many 
 things, and just at the right moment, it seemed. 
 He was certainly the first to give the clue 'at Bel- 
 thorpe on the night of the conflagration, and 
 he may, therefore, have seen poor Tom retreating 
 stealthily from the scene, as he averred he did. 
 Lobourne had its say on the subject. Rustic Lo- 
 bourne hinted broadly at a young woman in the 
 case, and, moreover, told a tale of how these fellow- 
 
 VOL. I. N 
 
178 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 threshers had, in noble rivahy, one day turned 
 upon each other to see which of the two threshed 
 the best ; whereof the Bantam still bore marks, 
 and malice, it was said. However, there he stood, 
 and tugged his forelocks to the company, and if 
 Truth really had concealed herself in him, she 
 must have been hard set to find her unlikeliest 
 hiding-place. 
 
 " Now," said the farmer, marshalling forth his 
 elephant with the confidence of one who delivers 
 his ace of trumps, " tall this young gentleman 
 what ye saw on the night of the Fire, Bantam ! " 
 
 The Bantam jerked a bit of a bow to his patron, 
 and then swung round, fully obscuring him from 
 Richard. 
 
 Bichard fixed his eyes on the floor, while the 
 Bantam in rudest Doric commenced his narra- 
 tive. Knowing what was to come, and thoroughly 
 nerved to confute the main incident, Bichard 
 barely listened to his barbarous locution : but 
 when the recital arrived at the point where the 
 Bantam affirmed he had seen " T'm Baak'll wi 's 
 owen holes," Bichard faced him, and was amazed 
 to find himself being mutely addressed by a 
 series of intensely significant grimaces, signs, 
 and winks. 
 
A FINE DISTINCTION. 179 
 
 " What do you mean ? Why are you ma- 
 king those faces at me?" cried the boy, indig- 
 nantly. 
 
 Farmer Blaize leaned round the Bantam to 
 have a look at him, and beheld the stolidest mask 
 ever given to man. 
 
 " Bain't makin' no faces at nobody," growled 
 the sulky elephant. 
 
 The farmer commanded him to face about and 
 finish. 
 
 "A see T'm Baak'U," the Bantam recom- 
 menced, and again the contortions of a horrible 
 wink were directed at Richard. The boy might 
 well believe this clmrl was lying, and he did, and 
 was emboldened to exclaim, 
 
 " You never saw Tom Bakewell set fire to that 
 rick !" 
 
 The Bantam swore to it, grimacing an accom- 
 paniment. 
 
 "I tell you," said Richard, " I put the lucifers 
 there myself!" 
 
 The suborned elephant was staggered. He 
 meant to telegraph to the young gentleman that 
 he was loyal and true to certain gold-pieces that 
 had been given him, and that in the right place 
 
180 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 and at the right tmie, he should prove so. Why 
 was he thus suspected ? Why was he not under- 
 stood ? 
 
 " A thowt I see 'un, then," muttered the Ban- 
 tam, trying a middle course. 
 
 This brought down on him the farmer, who 
 roared, " Thought ! Ye thought ! What d'ye 
 mean? Speak out, and don't be thinkin.' 
 Thought ? What the devil 's that ?" 
 
 "How could he see who it was on a pitch 
 dark night?" Richard put in. 
 
 "Thought!" the farmer bellowed louder. 
 " Thought — Devil take ye, when ye took yer oath 
 on 't." HuUoa ! what are ye screwin' yer eye 
 at Mr. Feverel for? — I say, young gentleman, 
 have you spoke to this chap before now?" 
 
 "I?" replied Richard, "I have not seen him 
 before." 
 
 Farmer Blaize grasped the two arms of the 
 chair he sat on, and glared his doubts. 
 
 " Come," said he to the Bantam, " speak out, 
 and ha' done wi' t. Say what ye saw, and none 
 o' yer thoughts. Dam yer thoughts ! Ye saw 
 Tom Bakewell fire that there rick !" The farmer 
 pointed at some musk-pots in the window. 
 
A FINE DISTINCTION. 181 
 
 " ¥/liat business ha you to be a-thinkin' ? You 
 're a witness ! Thinkin' an't ev'dence. What 
 '11 ye say tomorrow before magistrate ? Mind ! 
 what you says today, you'll stick by tomorrow." 
 
 Thus adjured, the Bantam hitched his breech. 
 What on earth the young gentleman meant, he 
 was at a loss to speculate. He could not believe 
 that the young gentleman wanted to be* trans- 
 ported, but if he had been paid to help that, 
 why, he would. And considering that this day's 
 evidence rather bound him down to the mor- 
 row's, he determined, after much ploughing and 
 harrowing through obstinate shocks of hair, to 
 be not altogether positive as to the person. It is 
 possible that he became thereby more a mansion 
 of Truth than he previously had been ; for the 
 night, as he said, was so dark that you could not 
 see your hand before your face ; and though, as 
 he expressed it, you might be mortal sure of a 
 man, you could not identify him upon Oath, and 
 the party he had taken for Tom Bakewell, and 
 could have sworn to, might have been the yoi ng 
 gentleman present, especially as he was ready to 
 swear to it upon Oath. 
 
 So ended the Bantam. 
 
182 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 No sooner had he ceased, than Farmer Blaize 
 jumped up from his chair, and made a fine effort 
 to lift him out of the room from the point of his 
 toe. He failed, and sank back groaning with the 
 pain of the exertion, and disappointment. 
 
 " They 're liars, every one ! " he cried. " Liars, 
 Perj'rers, Bribers, and C'rrupters! — Stop!" to the 
 Bantam, who was slinking away. " You 've done 
 for yerself already ! You swore to it !" 
 
 " A din't !" said the Bantam, doggedly. 
 
 " You swore to 't," the farmer vociferated 
 afresh. 
 
 The Bantam played a tune upon the handle of 
 the door, and still affirmed that he did not; a 
 double contradiction at which the farmer abso- 
 lutely raged in his chair, and was hoarse, as 
 he called out a third time that the Bantam had 
 sworn to it. 
 
 "Noa!" said the Bantam, ducking his poll. 
 " Noa l" he repeated in a lower note ; and then, 
 while a sombre grin betokening idiotic enjoy- 
 ment of his profound casuistical quibble worked 
 at his jaw : — 
 
 " Not up'n 0-ath !" he added, with a twitch of 
 the shoulder and an angular jerk of the elbow. 
 
A FINE DISTINCTION. 183 
 
 Farmer Blaize looked vacantly at Richard, as 
 if to ask him what he thought of England's pea- 
 santry after the sample they had there. Richard 
 would have preferred not to laugh, but his dig- 
 nity gave way to his sense of the ludicrous, and 
 he let fly an irrepressible peal. The farmer was 
 in no laughing mood. He turned a wide eye 
 back to the door, " Lucky for 'm !" he exclaimed, 
 seeing the Bantam had vanished, for his fingers 
 itched to break that stubborn head. He grew 
 very puffy, and addressed Richard solemnly: 
 
 "Now, look ye here, Mr. Feverel! You've 
 been a-tampering with my witness. It 's no use 
 denyin'! I say y' 'ave, Sir ! You, or some of ye. 
 I don't care about no Feverel ! My witness there 
 has been bribed. The Bantam's been bribed," 
 and he shivered his pipe with an energetic 
 thump on the table — " Bribed ! I knows it ! 
 I could swear to 't ! — " 
 
 " Upon oath?" Richard inquired, with a grave 
 face. 
 
 "Ay, upon oath!" said the farmer, not ob- 
 serving the impertinence. 
 
 " I 'd take my Bible oath on 't ! He 's been 
 corrupted, my principal witness ! Oh ! it 's dam 
 
184 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 cunnin', but it won't do the trick. I '11 transpoort 
 Tom Bake well, sure as a gun. He sball travel, 
 that man shall. Sorry for you, Mr. Feverel — sorry 
 ye haven't seen how to treat me proper — you, or 
 yours. Money won't do everything — no! it won't. 
 It '11 c'rrupt a witness, but it won't clear a felon. 
 I 'd ha' 'soused you, Sir ! You 're a boy and '11 
 learn better. I asked no more than payment 
 and a 'pology ; and that I 'd ha' taken content — 
 always provided my witnesses weren't tampered 
 with. Now you must stand yer luck, all o' ye." 
 
 Richard stood up, and replied, "Very well, 
 Mr. Blaize." 
 
 " And if," continued the farmer, " Tom Bake- 
 well don't drag you into 't after 'm, why, you 're 
 safe, as I hope ye '11 be, sincere !" 
 
 " It was not in consideration of my own safety 
 that I sought this interview with you," said Ri- 
 chard, head erect. 
 
 " Grant ye that," the farmer responded. 
 " Grant ye that ! Yer bold enough, young gen- 
 tleman — comes of the blood that should be ! If 
 y' had only ha' spoke Trewth ! — I believe yer fa- 
 ther — believe every word he said. I do wish I 
 could ha' said as much of Sir Aust'n's son and 
 heir." 
 
A FINE DISTINCTION. 185 
 
 "What!" cried Richard with an astonishment 
 hardly to be feigned, " you have seen ray father?" 
 
 But Farmer Blaizc had now such a scent for 
 lies, that he could detect them where they did 
 not exist, and mumbled gruffly, 
 
 " Ay, we knows all about that !" 
 
 The boy's perplexity saved him from being ir- 
 ritated. Who could have told his father ? The 
 old fear came upon him, and a touch of the old 
 inclination to revolt. 
 
 "My father knows of this?" said he, very 
 loudly, and staring, as he spoke, right through 
 the farmer. " Who has played me false ? Who 
 would betray me to him ? It was Austin ! No 
 one knew it but Austin. Yes, and it was Austin 
 who persuaded me to come here, and submit to 
 these indignities. Why couldn't he be open with 
 me ? I shall never trust him again ! — " 
 
 " And why not you with me, young gentle- 
 man ?" said the farmer. " I sh'd trust you if ye 
 had." 
 
 Richard did not see the analogy He bowed 
 stiffly and bade him good afternoon. 
 
 Farmer Blaize pulled the bell. "'Company 
 the young gentleman out, Lucy," he waved to 
 
186 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 the little damsel in the doorway. " Do the ho- 
 nours. And Mr. Richard, ye might ha' made a 
 friend o' me, Sir, and it 's not too late so to do. 
 I 'm not crool, but I hate lies. I whipped my 
 boy Tom, bigger than you, for not bein' above- 
 board, only yesterday, — ay! made \in stand 
 within swing o' this chair, and take 's measure. 
 Now, if ye '11 come down to me, and speak 
 Trewth before the Trial — if it 's only five minutes 
 before 't ; or if Sir Aust'n, who 's a gentleman, 
 '11 say there 's been no tamperin' with any o' my 
 witnesses, his word for 't — well and good ! I '11 
 do my best to help ofi' Tom Bakewell. And I 'm 
 glad, young gentleman, you 've got a conscience 
 about a poor man, though he 's a villain. Good 
 afternoon. Sir." 
 
 Richard marched hastily out of the room, and 
 through the garden, never so much as deigning a 
 glance at his wistful little guide, who hung at 
 the garden gate to watch him up the lane, won- 
 dering a world of fancies about the handsome 
 proud boy. 
 
187 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 RICHAKD PASSES THROUGH HIS PRELIMINARY 
 ORDEAL, AND IS THE OCCASION OF AN 
 APHORISM. 
 
 To have determined upon an act something akin 
 to heroism in its way, and to have fulfilled it 
 by lying heartily, and so subverting the whole 
 structure built by good resolution, seems a sad 
 downfall if we forget what human nature, in its 
 green weedy Spring, is composed of. Young 
 Richard had quitted his cousin Austin fully re- 
 solved to do his penance and drink the bitter 
 cup ; and he had drunk it ; drained many cups 
 to the dregs ; and it was to no purpose. Still 
 they floated before him, brimmed, trebly bitter. 
 Away from Austin's influence, he was almost 
 the same boy who had sHpped the guinea into 
 Tom Bake well's hand, and the Lucifers into 
 Farmer Blaize's rick. Por good seed is long 
 ripening : a good boy is not made in a minute. 
 
188 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 Enoiigli that tlie seed was in him. He chafed 
 on his road to Raynham, at the scene he had just 
 endured, and the figure of Belthorpe's fat tenant 
 burnt like hot copper on the tablet of his brain, 
 insufferably condescending, and, what was worse, 
 in the right. Richard, obscured as his mind's 
 eye was by wounded pride, saw that clearly, and 
 hated his enemy for it the more. 
 
 Heavy Benson's tongue was knelling Dinner, 
 as Richard arrived at the Abbey. He hurried 
 up to his room to dress. Accident, or design, 
 had laid the book of Sir Austin's Aphorisms 
 open on the dressing-table. Hastily combing his 
 hair, Richard glanced down, and read : 
 
 ' The Dog returneth to his Vomit : the Liar 
 must eat his Lie.' 
 
 Underneath was interjected in pencil : ' The 
 Devil's mouthful!' 
 
 Young Richard ran downstairs feeling that his 
 father had struck him in the face. 
 
 Sir Austin marked the scarlet stain on his 
 son's cheek-bones. He sought the youth's eye, 
 but Richard would not look, and sat conning his 
 
THE PRELIMINARY ORDEAL. 189 
 
 plate, an abject copy of Adrian's succulent air 
 at that employment. How could he pretend to 
 the relish of an Epicure, when he was painfully 
 endeavouring to masticate The Devil's Mouth- 
 ful? 
 
 Heavy Benson sat upon the wretched dinner. 
 Hippias, usually the silent member, as if awakened 
 by the unnatural stillness, became sprightly, like 
 the goatsucker owl at midnight, and spoke much 
 of his book, his digestion, and his dreams ; and 
 was spared both by Algernon and Adrian. One 
 inconsequent dream he related, about fancying 
 himself quite young and rich, and finding him- 
 self suddenly in a field cropping razors around 
 him, when, just as he had, by steps dainty as 
 those of a Trench dancing-master, reached the 
 middle, he to his dismay beheld a path clear of 
 the bloodthirsty steel-crop, which he might have 
 taken at first had he looked narrowly ; and there 
 he was. 
 
 Hippias' s brethren regarded him with eyes 
 that plainly said they wished he had remained 
 there. Sir Austin, however, drew forth his note- 
 book, and jotted down a reflection. A composer 
 of Aphorisms can pluck blossoms even from a 
 
190 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 razor-crop. Was not Hippias's dream the very 
 counterpart of Richard's position ? He, had he 
 looked narrowly, might have taken the clear 
 path : he, too, had been making dainty steps till 
 he was surrounded by the grinning blades. And 
 from that text Sir Austin preached to his son 
 when they were alone. Little Clare was still too 
 unwell to be permitted to attend the dessert, 
 and father and son were soon closeted together. 
 
 It was a strange meeting. They seemed to 
 have been separated so long. The father took 
 his son's hand. They sat without a w^ord pass- 
 ing between them. Silence said most. The 
 boy did not understand his father : his father 
 frequently thwarted him : at times he thought 
 his father foolish : but that paternal pressure of 
 his hand was eloquent to him how w^armly he 
 was beloved. He tried once or twice to steal 
 his hand away, conscious it w^as melting him. 
 The spirit of his pride, and old Rebellion, whis- 
 pered him to be hard, unbending, resolute. Hard 
 he had entered his father's study : hard he had 
 met his father's eyes. He could not meet them 
 now. His father sat beside him gently ; with a 
 manner that was almost meekness, so he loved 
 
THE PRELIMINARY OEDEAL. 191 
 
 this boy. The poor gentleman's Kps moved. He 
 was praying internally to God for him. 
 
 By degrees an emotion awoke in the boy's bo- 
 som. Love is that blessed wand which wins the 
 waters from the hardness of the heart. Richard 
 fought against it, for the dignity of old Rebellion. 
 The tears would come ; hot and struggling over 
 the dams of Pride. Shamefully fast they began 
 to fall. He could no longer conceal them, or 
 check his sobs. Sir Austin drew him nearer and 
 nearer, till the beloved head was on his breast. 
 
 An hour afterwards, Adrian Harley, Austin 
 Went worth, and Algernon Fever el, were sum- 
 moned to the Baronet's study. 
 
 Adrian came last. There was a style of affable 
 omnipotence about the Wise Youth as he slung 
 himself into a chair, and made an arch of the 
 points of his fingers, through w^hich to gaze on 
 his blundering kinsmen. Careless as one may 
 be whose sagacity has foreseen, and whose bene- 
 volent efforts have forestalled, the point of dan- 
 ger at the threshold of his apprehensive fellows, 
 Adrian crossed his legs, and only intruded on 
 their introductory remarks so far as to hum half 
 audibly at intervals. 
 
192 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 * Eipton and Eichard were two pretty men,' 
 in parody of the old Ballad. Young Richard's 
 red eyes, and the Baronet's ruffled demeanour, 
 told him that an explanation had taken place, 
 and a reconcihation. That was well. The 
 Baronet would now pay cheerfully. Adrian 
 summed and considered these matters, and 
 barely listened when the Baronet called attention 
 to what he had to say : which was, elaborately 
 to inform all present what all present very well 
 knew : that a rick had been fired : that his son 
 was implicated as an accessory to the fact : that 
 the perpeti'ator was now imprisoned : and that 
 Richard's family were, as it seemed to him, 
 bound in honour to do their utmost to effect 
 the man's release. 
 
 Then the Baronet stated that he had himself 
 been down to Belthorpe, his son likewise : and 
 that he had found every disposition in Blaize to 
 meet his wishes. 
 
 The lamp which ultimately was sure to be 
 lifted up to illumine the acts of this secretive 
 race, began slowly to dispread its rays ; and as 
 statement followed statement, they saw that all 
 had known of the business : that all had been 
 
THE PRELIMINARY ORDEAL. 193 
 
 down to Beltliorpe : all save the Wise Youth 
 Adrian, who, with due deference and a sarcastic 
 shrug, objected to the proceeding, as putting 
 them in the hands of the man Blaize. His 
 wisdom shone forth in an oration so persuasive 
 and aphoristic, that, had it not been based on a 
 plea against Honour, it would have made Sir 
 Austin waver. But its basis was Expediency, 
 and the Baronet had a better Aphorism of his 
 own to confute him with. 
 
 " 'Expediency is man's wisdom, Adrian Harley. 
 Doing Bight is God's.' " 
 
 Adrian curbed his desire to ask Sir Austin 
 whether an attempt to counteract the just work- 
 ing of the Law, was Doing Bight. The direct ap- 
 plication of an Aphorism was unpopular at Bayn- 
 ham. 
 
 " I am to understand, then," said he, " that 
 Blaize consents not to press the prosecution." 
 
 " Of course he won't," Algernon remarked. 
 " Confound him ! he '11 have his money, and 
 what does he want besides ? " 
 
 *' These agricultural gentlemen are delicate 
 customers to deal with. However, if he really 
 consents — " 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
194 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 " I have his promise/' said the Baronet, fon- 
 dhng his son. 
 
 Young Richard looked up to his father, as if 
 he wished to speak. He said nothing, and Sir 
 Austin took it as a mute reply to his caresses, 
 and caressed him the more. Adrian perceived 
 a reserve in the boy's manner, and as he was 
 not quite satisfied that his Chief should suppose 
 him to have been the only idle, and not the 
 most acute and vigilant, member of the family, 
 he commenced a cross-examination of him by 
 asking, who had last spoken with the tenant of 
 Belthorpe ? 
 
 '' I think I saw him last," murmured Richard, 
 and relinquished his father's hand. 
 
 Adrian fastened on his prey. " And left him 
 with a distinct and satisfactory assurance of his 
 amicable intentions ? " 
 
 " No," said Richard. 
 
 " Not ? " the Feverels joined in astounded 
 chorus. 
 
 Richard sidled away from his father, and re- 
 peated a shamefaced "No." 
 
 "Was he hostile?" inquired Adrian, smooth- 
 ing his palms, and smiling. 
 
 " Yes," the boy confessed. 
 
THE PRELIMINARY ORDEAL. 195 
 
 Here was quite another view of their position. 
 Adrian, generally patient of results, triumphed 
 strongly at having evoked it, and turned upon 
 Austin Wentworth, reproving him for inducing 
 the boy to go down to Belthorpe. Austin looked 
 grieved. He feared that Richard had failed in 
 his good resolve. 
 
 " I thought it his duty to go," he observed. 
 
 " It was ! " said the Baronet emphatically. 
 
 " And you see what comes of it, Sir," Adrian 
 put in. " These agricultural gentlemen, I repeat, 
 are delicate customers to deal with. For my 
 part I would prefer being in the hands of a 
 policeman. We are decidedly collared by Blaize. 
 What were his words, Bicky? Give it in his 
 own Doric." 
 
 " He said he would transport Tom Bakewell." 
 
 Adrian smoothed his palms, and smiled again. 
 Then they could afford to defy Mr. Blaize, he 
 informed them significantly, and made once more 
 a mysterious allusion to the Punic Elephant, bid- 
 ding his relatives be at peace. They were at- 
 taching, in his opinion, too much importance to 
 Richard's complicity. The man was a fool, and 
 a very extraordinary Arsonite to have an accom- 
 plice at all. It was a thing unknown in the an- 
 
196 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 nals of rick-burning. But one would be severer 
 than Law itself to say that a boy of fourteen had 
 instigated to crime a full-grown man. At that 
 rate the boy was ' father of the man' with a ven- 
 geance, and one might hear next that ' the baby 
 was father of the boy.' They would find Com- 
 mon Sense a more benevolent ruler than Poetical 
 Metaphysics. 
 
 AVhen he had done, Austin, with his customary 
 directness, asked him what he meant. 
 
 " I confess, Adrian," said the Baronet, hearing 
 him expostulate with Austin's stupidity, "I for 
 one am at a loss. I have heard that this man, 
 Bakewell, chooses voluntarily not to inculpate 
 my son. Seldom have I heard anything that so 
 gratified me. It is a view of innate nobleness 
 in the rustic's character which many gentlemen 
 might take example froui. We are bound to do 
 our utmost for the man." And saying that he 
 should pay a second visit to Belthorpe, to inquire 
 into the reasons for the farmer's sudden exposi- 
 tion of vindictiveness, Sir Austin rose. 
 
 Before he left the room, Algernon asked Ri- 
 chard if the farmer had vouchsafed any reasons, 
 and the boy then spoke of the tampering with the 
 witnesses, and the Bantam's " Not upon oath !" 
 
THE PRELIMINARY OBDEAL. 197 
 
 which caused Adrian to choke with laughter. 
 Even the Baronet smiled at so cunning a dis- 
 tinction as that involved in swearing a thing, 
 and not swearing it upon oath. 
 
 " How little," he exclaimed, " does one yeoman 
 know another! To elevate a distinction into a 
 difference, is the natural action of their minds. 
 I will point that out to Blaize. He shall see that 
 that idea is native born.'' 
 
 Remorsefully Richard saw his father go forth. 
 Adrian, too, was ill at ease. 
 
 " This trotting down to Belthorpe spoils all," 
 said he. " The affair would pass over tomor- 
 row — Blaize has no witnesses. The old rascal 
 is only standing out for more money." 
 
 " No, he isn't," Richard corrected him. " It 's 
 not that. I'm sure he believes his witnesses have 
 been tampered wdth, as he calls it." 
 
 "What if they have, boy?" Adrian put it 
 boldly. "The ground is cut from under his 
 feet." 
 
 " Blaize told me that, if my father would give 
 his word there had been nothing of the sort, he 
 would take it. My father will give his word." 
 
 " Then," said Adrian, " you had better stop 
 him from going down." 
 
198 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD EEYEREL. 
 
 Austin looked at Adrian keenly, and ques- 
 tioned him, whether he thought the farmer was 
 justified in his suspicions. The Wise Youth was 
 not to be entrapped. He had only been given 
 to understand that the witnesses were tolerably 
 unstable, and Hke the Bantam, ready to swear 
 lustily, but not upon the Book. How given to 
 understand, he chose not to explain, but he re- 
 iterated that the Chief should not be allowed to 
 go down to Belthorpe. 
 
 Sir Austin was in the lane leading to the farm, 
 when he heard steps of some one running behind 
 him. It was dark, and he shook off the hand 
 that laid hold of his cloak, roughly, not recog- 
 nizing his son. 
 
 " It 's I, Sir," said Richard, panting. " Pardon 
 me. You musn't go in there." 
 
 "Why not?" said the Baronet, putting his 
 arm about him. 
 
 " Not now," continued the boy. " I will tell 
 you all to-night. I must see the farmer myself. 
 It was my fault, Sir. I — I Hed to him — the 
 Liar must eat his Lie. Oh, forgive me for dis- 
 gracing you, Sir. I did it — I hope I did it to 
 save Tom Bakewell. Let me go in alone, and 
 speak the truth." 
 
THE PRELIMINARY ORDEAL. 199 
 
 '•' Go, and I will wait for you here," said his 
 father. 
 
 The wind that bowed the old elms, and shi- 
 vered the dead leaves in the air, had a voice and 
 a meaning for the Baronet, during that half- 
 hour's lonely pacing up and down under the 
 darkness, awaiting his boy's return. The solemn 
 gladness of his heart gave Nature a tongue. 
 Through the desolation flying overhead — the 
 wailing of the Mother of Plenty across the bare- 
 swept land — he caught intelhgible signs of the 
 beneficent order of the universe, from a heart 
 newly confirmed in its grasp of the principle of 
 human goodness, as manifested in the dear child 
 who had just left him : confirmed in its belief in 
 the ultimate Victory of Good within us, without 
 which Nature has neither music, nor meaning, 
 and is rock, stone, tree, and nothing more. 
 
 In the dark, the dead leaves beating on his 
 face, he drew forth the Note-book, and with 
 groping fingers traced out : ' There is for the 
 mind but one grasp of Happiness ; from that 
 uppermost pinnacle of Wisdom, whence we see 
 that this world is well-designed.' 
 
200 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 IN WHICH THE LAST ACT OE THE BAKEWELL 
 COMEDY IS CLOSED IN A LETTER. 
 
 Of all the chief actors in The Bakewell Co- 
 medy, Master Ripton Thompson awaited the 
 fearful morning which was to decide Tom's fate, 
 in dolefulest mood, and suffered the gravest 
 mental terrors. Adrian on parting with him, had 
 taken casual occasion to speak of the position 
 of the Criminal in modern Europe, assuring him 
 that International Treaty now did what Univer- 
 sal Empire had aforetime done, and that among 
 Atlantic Barbarians now, as among the Scythians 
 of old, an offender would find precarious refuge, 
 and an emissary haunting him. In the paternal 
 home, under the roofs of Law, and removed from 
 the influence of his conscienceless young Chief, 
 the staggering nature of the act he had put his 
 hand to, its awful felonious aspect, overwhelmed 
 
LAST ACT OF THE COMEDY. 201 
 
 poor Ripton. He saw it now for the first time. 
 "Why it's next to murder!" he cried out to 
 his amazed soul, and wandered about the house 
 with a prickly skin. Thoughts of America, and 
 commencing life afresh as an innocent gen- 
 tleman, had crossed the agitated brain of Rip- 
 ton. He wrote to his friend Richard, proposing 
 to collect disposable funds, and embark, in case 
 of Tom's breaking his word, or of accidental 
 discovery. He dared not confide the secret to 
 his family, as his leader had sternly enjoined 
 him to avoid any weakness of that kind ; and 
 being by nature honest and communicative, the 
 restriction was painful, and melancholy fell upon 
 the boy. Mama Thompson attributed it to love. 
 The daughters of parchment rallied him con- 
 cerning Miss Clare Forey. His hourly letters 
 to Raynham, his silence as to everything and 
 everybody there, his loss of appetite, nervous- 
 ness, and unwonted propensity to sudden inflam- 
 mation of the cheeks, were set down for sure 
 signs of the passion. Miss Letitia Thompson, 
 the pretty and least parchmenty one, destined by 
 her Mama for the heir of Raynham, and per- 
 fectly aware of her briUiant future, up to which 
 
202 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 she had, since Ripton's departure, dressed, and 
 grimaced, and studied cadences (the latter with 
 such success, though not yet fifteen, that she 
 languished to her maid, and melted the very 
 marrow of the small factotum footman), — Miss 
 Letty, whose insatiable thirst for intimations 
 about the young heir, Kipton could not satisfy, 
 tormented him daily in revenge, and once, quite 
 unconsciously, gave the lad a fearful turn : for 
 after dinner, when Mr. Thompson read the paper 
 by the fire, preparatory to sleeping at his accus- 
 tomed post, and Mama Thompson and her sub- 
 missive female brood sat tasking the swift intri- 
 cacies of the needle, and emulating them with 
 the tongue. Miss Letty stole behind Ripton's 
 chair, and introduced between him and his book 
 the Latin initial letter, large and illuminated, of 
 the theme she supposed to be absorbing him, 
 as it did herself. The unexpected vision of this 
 accusing Captain of the Alphabet, this resplen- 
 dent and haunting A, fronting him bodily, threw 
 Ripton straight back in his chair, while Guilt, 
 with her ancient indecision what colours to as- 
 sume on detection, flew from red to white, from 
 white to red, across his fallen chaps. Letty 
 laughed triumphantly. 
 
LAST ACT OF THE COMEDY. 203 
 
 " All — a !" she sang, '' you are found out, Mr. 
 Mum!" and innocently followed up the attack, 
 by asking him how he would wear his badge, 
 before, or behind? which precipitated Ripton 
 from the room, in sick certainty that he was 
 discovered, and thrilled the motherly heart of 
 Mama Thompson with the blissful prospect of 
 marrying two of her brood to the House of 
 Fever el. 
 
 "Why, what does A stand for? Silly 1" said 
 Letitia, after rallying her brother next morning 
 at breakfast, "For Angel, doesn't it?" 
 
 " Yes : and for America," Ripton answered 
 gloomily. 
 
 " Yes, and you know what else !" rejoined his 
 persecutor, while another sister, previously in- 
 structed, presumed it might possibly stand for 
 Amor. 
 
 "And for Arson," added the deep paternal 
 voice, unwittingly springing a mine under poor 
 Ripton. 
 
 Letty's study of the aspects of love, and of the 
 way young people should look, and of the things 
 they should do, under the dominion of the pas- 
 sion, was not much assisted by its outward de- 
 
204 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 velopnient in the supposed love-stricken youth. 
 " I 'm sure," she thought, " I shall never be like 
 that. He bounds in his seat. He never looks 
 comfortable. He seems to hate us all, and does 
 nothing but mumble his food, and growl, and 
 frown. If that's love, I can't do it!" she sor- 
 rowfully concluded her reflections. 
 
 The delivery of a letter into Master Ripton's 
 hands, however, furnished her with other and like- 
 lier appearances to study. For scarce had Ripton 
 plunged his head into the missive, than he gave 
 way to violent transports, such as the healthy- 
 minded little damsel, for all her languishing ca- 
 dences, deemed she really could express, were a 
 downright declaration to be made to her. The 
 boy did not stop at table. Quickly recollect- 
 ing the presence of his family, he rushed to his 
 own room. And now Miss Letty's ingenuity was 
 tasked to gain possession of that letter. In love, it 
 is said, all stratagems are fair, and many little la- 
 dies transverse the axiom by applying it to discover 
 the secrets of their friends. Letty ransacked the 
 drawers in Ripton's rooms, she dived her hands 
 into the pockets of his garments lying about, 
 she turned down the pillow, she spied under the 
 
LAST ACT or THE COMEDY. 205 
 
 mattress of liis bed, with an easy conscience; 
 and if she found nothing, of course, as she was 
 doing a wrong, she did not despair of gaining 
 her object, and soon knew that Ripton carried it 
 about in his left jacket-pocket, persecuting Rip- 
 ton with her caresses, till she felt the tantalizing 
 treasure crack beneath her fingers. Some sisters 
 would have coaxed him for a sight of it. Letty 
 was not so foolish : she did not allude to it, and 
 was still hovering round the pocket, at a loss to 
 devise any new scheme, when accident bestowed 
 on her what artifice denied. They were stand- 
 ing on a hill together, and saw some people of 
 their acquaintance coming up in a pony-chaise. 
 Letty told Ripton to wave his handkerchief, 
 which he snatched from the very pocket, and 
 waved vigorously, and continued waving, heed- 
 less that his sister had on a sudden lost her in- 
 terest in the pony-chaise. Indeed she presently 
 commanded him to turn a contrary way, and 
 was voluble with reasons for getting home im- 
 mediately, though they had set out for a long 
 walk into the country. Once home, Letitia 
 darted up stairs to be alone with her naughty 
 self. She had the letter. Ripton had dropped 
 
206 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVERED. 
 
 it as he drew forth his handkerchief. With 
 the eyes of amazement, she read this foreign 
 matter : — 
 
 "Dear Ripton, 
 
 " If Tom had been committed I would have 
 shot old Blaize. Do you know my father was 
 behind us that night when Clare saw the Ghost 
 and heard all we said before the fire burst out. 
 It is no use trying to conceal anything from him. 
 Well as you are in an awful state I v*^ill tell you 
 all about it. After you left Ripton I had a con- 
 versation with Austin and he persuaded me to go 
 down to old Blaize and ask him to help off Tom. 
 I went for I would have done anything for Tom 
 after what he said to Austin and I defied the old 
 churl to do his worst. Then he said if my fa- 
 ther paid the money and nobody had tampered 
 with his witnesses he would not mind if Tom 
 did get off and he had his chief witness in called 
 the Bantam very like his master I think and 
 the Bantam began winking at me tremendjously 
 as you say and said he had sworn he saw Tom 
 Bakewell but not upon Oath. He meant not on 
 the Bible. He could swear to it but not on the 
 
LAST ACT OF THE COMEDY. 207 
 
 Bible. I burst out laughing and you should 
 have seen the rage old Blaize was in. It was 
 splendid fun. Then we had a consultation at 
 home Austin Rady nay father Uncle Algernon who 
 has come down to us again and your friend 
 in prosperity and adversity R. D. F. My father 
 said he would go down to old Blaize and 
 give him the word of a gentleman we had not 
 tampered with his witnesses and when he was 
 gone we were all talking and Rady says he must 
 not see the farmer. I am as certain as I live 
 that it was Rady bribed the Bantam. Well I ran 
 and caught up my father and told him not to go 
 in to old Blaize but I would and eat my words 
 and tell him the truth. He waited for me in 
 the lane. Never mind what passed between me 
 and old Blaize. He made me beg and pray of 
 him not to press it against Tom and then to com- 
 plete it he brought in a little girl a niece of his 
 and says to me she's your best friend after all 
 and told me to thank her. A little girl twelve 
 years of age. What business had she to mix 
 herself up in my matters. Depend upon it Rip- 
 ton wherever there is mischief there are girls I 
 think. She had the insolence to notice my face 
 
208 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARI) FEVEREL. 
 
 and ask me not to be unhappy. I was polite of 
 course but I would not look at her. Well the 
 morning came and Tom was had up before Sir 
 Miles Papworth. It was Sir Miles gout gave us 
 the time or Tom would have been had up before 
 we could do anything Adrian did not want me 
 to go but my father said I should accompany him 
 and held my hand all the time. I shall be care- 
 ful about getting into these scrapes again. When 
 you have done anything honourable you do not 
 mind but getting among policemen and magis- 
 trates makes you ashamed of yourself. Sir Miles 
 was very attentive to my father and me and dead 
 against Tom. We sat beside him and Tom was 
 brought in. Sir Miles told my father that if 
 there was one thing that showed a low villain it 
 was rick-burning. What do you think of that. 
 I looked him straight in the face and he said to 
 me he w^as doing me a service in getting Tom 
 committed and clearing the country of such fel- 
 lows and Eady began laughing. I hate Rady. 
 My father said his son was not in haste to in- 
 herit and have estates of his own to watch and 
 Sir Miles laughed too. I thought we were dis- 
 covered at first. Then they began the examina- 
 
LAST ACT OF THE COMEDY. 209 
 
 tion of Tom. The Tinker was the first witness 
 and he proved that Tom had spoken against old 
 Blaize and said something about burning his 
 rick. I wished I had stood in the lane to Bur- 
 sley with him alone. Our country lawyer we 
 engaged for Tom cross-questioned him and then 
 he said he was not ready to swear to the exact 
 words that had passed between him and Tom. 
 I should think not. Then came another who 
 swore he had seen Tom lurking about the far- 
 mer's grounds that night. Then came the Bantam 
 and I saw him look at Rady. I was tremend- 
 jously excited and my father kept pressing my 
 hand. Just fancy my being brought to feel that a 
 word from that fellow would make me miserable 
 •for life and he must perjure himself to help me. 
 That comes of giving way to passion. My fa- 
 ther says when we do that we are calling in the 
 devil as doctor. Well the Bantam was told to 
 state what he had seen and the moment he be- 
 gan Rady who was close by me began to shake 
 and he was laughing I knew though his face was 
 as grave as Sir Miles. You never heard such a 
 rigmarole but I could not laugh. He said he 
 thought he w^as certain he had seen somebody by 
 
 VOL. I. V 
 
210 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 the rick and it was Tom Bakewellwho was the only 
 man he knew who had a grudge against farmer 
 Blaize and if the object had been a little bigger 
 he would not mind swearing to Tom and would 
 swear to him for he was dead certain it was Tom 
 only what he saw looked smaller and it was pitch 
 dark at the time. He was asked what time it 
 was he saw the person steal away from the rick 
 and then he began to scratch his head and said 
 supper-time. Then they asked what time he had 
 supper and he said nine o'clock by the clock and 
 we proved that at nine o'clock Tom vras drinking 
 in the ale-house with the Tinker at Bursley and 
 Sir Miles swore and said he was afraid he could 
 not commit Tom and when he heard that Tom 
 looked up at me and I say he is a noble fellow 
 and no one shall sneer at Tom while I live. Mind 
 that. Well Sir Miles asked us to dine with him 
 and Tom was safe and I am to have him and 
 educate him if I like for my servant and I will. 
 And I will give money to his mother and make 
 her rich and he shall never repent he knew me. 
 I say Rip. The Bantam must have seen 7ne. It 
 "Was when I went to stick in the Lucifers. As 
 we were all going home from Sir Miles's at night 
 
LAST ACT 01' THE COMEDY. 211 
 
 he has lots of red-faced daughters but I did not 
 dance with them though they had music and 
 were full of fun and I did not care to I was so 
 dehghted and almost let it out. When we left 
 and rode home Rady said to my father the Ban- 
 tam was not such a fool as he was thought and 
 my father said one must be in a state of great 
 personal exaltation to apply that epithet to any 
 man and Rady shut his mouth and I gave my 
 pony a clap of the heel for joy. I think my father 
 suspects what Rady did and does not approve of 
 it. And he need not have done it after all and 
 might have spoilt it. I have been obHged to order 
 him not to call me Ricky for he stops short at 
 Rick so that everybody knows what he means. 
 My dear Austin is going to South America. My 
 pony is in capital condition. My father is the 
 cleverest and best man in the world. Clare is a 
 little better. I am quite happy. I hope we shall 
 meet soon my dear old Rip and we will not get 
 into any more tremendjous scrapes will we. 
 " I remain 
 
 " Your sworn friend 
 
 " Richard Doeia Feverel. 
 
 " P.S. T am to have a nice River Yacht. Good 
 
.212 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 bye Rip. Mind you learn to box. Mind you 
 are not to show this to any of your friends on 
 pain of my displeasure. 
 
 " N.B. Lady B. was so angry when I told her 
 that I had not come to her before. She would 
 do anything in the world for me. I like her next 
 best to my father and Austin. Good bye old 
 Rip." 
 
 Poor little Letitia, after three perusals of this 
 ingenuous epistle, where the laws of punctuation 
 were so loftily disregarded, resigned it to one of 
 the pockets of her brother Ripton's best jacket, 
 deeply smitten with the careless composer. And 
 so ended the last act of the Bakewell Comedy, 
 on which the curtain closes with Sir Austin's 
 pointing out to his friends the beneficial action 
 of the System iii it from beginning to end. 
 
213 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 THE BLOSSOMING SEASON. 
 
 Laying of Ghosts is a public duty, and as the 
 mystery of the Apparition that had frightened 
 little Clare was never solved on the stage of 
 events at Raynham, where dread walked the 
 Abbey, let us go behind the scenes a moment. 
 Morally superstitious as the Baronet was, the 
 character of his mind was opposed to anything 
 like spiritual agency in the affairs of men, and 
 when the matter was made clear to him, it shook 
 off a weight of weakness, and restored his mental 
 balance ; so that from this time he w^ent about 
 more like the man he had once been, grasping 
 more thoroughly the great truth that. This World 
 is well designed. Nay, he could laugh on hear- 
 ing Adrian, in reminiscence of the ill luck of 
 one of the family members at its first manifes- 
 tation, call the uneasy spirit, Algernon's Leg. 
 
214 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 Mrs. Doria was outraged. Slie maintained that 
 her child had seen — . Not to believe in it was al- 
 most to rob her of her personal property. After 
 satisfactorily studying his old state of mind in 
 her, Sir Austin, moved by pity, took her aside 
 one day, and showed her that her Ghost could 
 write words in the flesh. It was a letter from 
 the unhappy lady who had given Richard birth, 
 — ^brief cold lines, simply telling him his house 
 would be disturbed by her no more. Cold lines, 
 but penned by what heart-broken abnegation, 
 and underlying them what anguish of soul ! Like 
 most who dealt with him, Lady Feverel thought 
 her husband a man fatally stern and implacable, 
 and she acted as silly creatures will act when 
 they fancy they see a fate against them : she 
 neither petitioned for her right, nor claimed it : 
 she tried to ease her heart's yearning by stealth, 
 and now she renounced all. Mrs. Doria, not 
 wanting in the family tenderness and softness, 
 shuddered at him for accepting the sacrifice so 
 composedly : but he bade her to think how dis- 
 tracting to this boy would be the sight of such 
 relations between mother and father. A few 
 years, and as man he should know, and judge, 
 
THE BLOSSOMING SEASON. 215 
 
 and love, her. " Let this be her penance, not 
 inflicted by me ! " Mrs. Doria bowed to the 
 System for another, not opining when it would 
 be her turn to bow for herself. 
 
 Further behind the scenes we observe Rizzio 
 and Mary grown older, much disenchanted : she 
 discrowned, dishevelled, — he with gouty fingers 
 on a greasy guitar. The Diaper Sandoe of pro- 
 mise lends his pen for small hires. His fame 
 has sunk ; his bodily girth has sensibly increased. 
 What he can do, and will do, is still his theme ; 
 meantime the juice of the juniper is in requi- 
 sition, and it seems those small hires cannot 
 be performed without it. Returning from her 
 wretched journey to her wretcheder home, the 
 lady had to listen to a mild reproof from easy- 
 going Diaper, — a reproof so mild that he couched 
 it in blank verse : for seldom writing metrically 
 now, he took to talking it. With a fluent sym- 
 pathetic tear, he explained to her that she was 
 damaging her interests by these proceedings ; 
 nor did he shrink from undertaking to eluci- 
 date wherefore. Pluming a smile upon his suc- 
 culent mouth, he told her that the poverty she 
 lived in was utterly unbefitting her gentle nur- 
 
216 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 ture, and that he had reason to beheve — could 
 assure her — that an annuity was on the point 
 of being granted her by her husband. And 
 Diaper broke his bud of a smile into full flower, 
 as he delivered the radiant information. She 
 learnt that he had applied to her husband for 
 money. It is hard to have one's last prop of 
 self-respect cut away just when we are suffering 
 a martyr's agony at the stake. There was a five- 
 minutes' tragic colloquy in the recesses behind 
 the scenes, — totally tragic to Diaper, who had 
 fondly hoped to bask in the warm sun of that 
 annuity, and re-emerge from his state of grub. 
 The lady then wrote the letter Sir Austin held 
 open to his sister. I think the atmosphere be- 
 hind the scenes is not wholesome, so, having laid 
 the Ghost, we will return and face the curtain. 
 
 That infinitesimal dose of The World which 
 Master Ripton Thompson had furnished to the 
 System with such instantaneous and surprising 
 effect, was considered by Sir Austin to have 
 worked well, and to be for the time quite suffi- 
 cient, so that Ripton did not receive a second in- 
 vitation to Raynham, and Richard had no special 
 
THE BLOSSOMING SEASON. 217 
 
 intimate of his own age to nib his excessive vita- 
 hty against, and wanted none. His hands were 
 full enough with Tom Bake well. Moreover, his 
 father and he Avere heart in heart. The boy's 
 mind was opening, and turned to his father 
 affectionately reverent. At this period, when 
 the young savage grows into higher influences, 
 the faculty of worship is foremost in him. At 
 this period Jesuits stamp the future of their 
 chargeling flocks -, and all who bring up youth 
 by a System, and watch it, know that it is the 
 malleable moment. Boys possessing any mental 
 or moral force to give them a tendency, then 
 predestinate their careers ; or, if tinder super- 
 vision, take the impress that is given them : not 
 often to cast it off, and seldom to cast it off 
 altogether. 
 
 In Sir Austin's Note-book was written : ' Be- 
 tween Simple Boyhood, and Adolescence — The 
 Blossoming Season — on the threshold of Puberty, 
 there is one Unselfish Hour : say, Spiritual Seed- 
 time.' 
 
 He took care that good seed should be planted 
 in Richard, and that the most fruitful seed for 
 
218 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 a youth, Damely, Example, should be of a kind 
 to germinate in him the love of every form of 
 nobleness. 
 
 "I am only striving to make my son a Chris- 
 tian/' he said, answering them who persisted 
 in expostulating with the System. And to these 
 instructions he gave an aim : "Pirst be virtuous," 
 he told his son, "and then serve your country 
 with heart and soul." The youth was instructed 
 to cherish an ambition for Statesmanship, and he 
 and his father read History and the Speeches 
 of British Orators to some purpose ; for one day 
 Sir Austin found him leaning cross-legged and 
 with his hand to his chin, against a pedestal sup- 
 porting the Bust of Chatham, contemplating the 
 Hero of our Parliament, his eyes streaming with 
 tears. 
 
 People said, the Baronet carried the principle 
 of Example so far, that he only retained his booz- 
 ing dyspeptic brother Hippias at Raynham, in 
 order to exhibit to his son the woful retribution 
 Nature wreaked upon a life of indulgence : poor 
 Hippias having now become a walking Complaint. 
 This was unjust, but there is no doubt he made 
 use of every illustration to disgust, or encourage, 
 
THE BLOSSOMING SEASON. 219 
 
 his son, that his neighbourhood afforded him, 
 and did not spare his brother, for whom Richard 
 entertained a contempt in proportion to his ad- 
 miration of his father, and was for flying into 
 penitential extremes, which Sir Austin had to 
 soften. 
 
 The boy prayed with his father morning and 
 night. 
 
 " How is it, Sir," he said, one night, " I can't 
 get Tom Bake well to pray ? " 
 
 "Does he refuse?" Sir Austin asked. 
 
 "He seems to be ashamed to," Richard re- 
 plied. " He wants to know, What is the good? 
 and I don't know what to tell him." 
 
 " I 'm afraid it has gone too far with him," 
 said Sir Austin, "and until he has had some 
 deep sorrows he will not find the divine want of 
 Prayer. Strive, my son, when you represent the 
 People, to provide for their education. He feels 
 everything now through a dull impenetrable rind. 
 Culture is halfway to Heaven. Tell him, my son, 
 should he ever be brought to ask how he may 
 know the efficacy of Prayer, and that his prayer 
 will be answered, tell him (he quoted The Pil- 
 grim's Scrip) : 
 
220 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVERED. 
 
 'Who rises from Prayer a better man, his 
 prayer is answered.' " 
 
 " I will, Sir," said Richard, and went to sleep 
 happy. 
 
 Happy in his father and in himself the youth 
 now lived. Conscience was beginning to inha- 
 bit him, and he carried some of the freightage 
 known to men ; though in so crude a form that 
 it overweighed him, now on this side, now on 
 that. 
 
 The Wise Youth Adrian observed these further 
 progressionary developments in his pupil, soberly 
 cynical. He was under Sir Austin's interdict 
 not to banter him, and eased his acrid humours 
 inspired by the sight of a felonious young rick- 
 burner turning Saint, by grave affectations of 
 sympathy and extreme accuracy in marking the 
 not widely- distant dates of his various changes. 
 The Bread-and-water phase lasted a fortnight : 
 the Vegetarian (an imitation of his cousin Austin), 
 little better than a month : the religious, some- 
 what longer : the religious-propagandist (when 
 he was for converting the Heathen of Lobourne 
 and Bursley, and the domestics of the Abbey, 
 including Tom Bakewell), longer still, and hard 
 
THE BLOSSOMING SEASON. 221 
 
 to bear : he tried to convert Adrian ! All the 
 while Tom was being exercised like a raw recruit. 
 Richard had a drill-serjeant from the nearest 
 barracks down for him, to give him a proper 
 pride in himself, and marched him to and fro 
 with immense satisfaction, and nearly broke his 
 heart trying to get the round-shouldered rustic to 
 take in the rudiments of letters : for the boy had 
 unbounded hopes for Tom, as a hero in grain. 
 
 Richard's pride also was cast aside. He af- 
 fected to be, and really thought he was, humble. 
 Whereupon Adrian, as by accident, imparted to 
 him the fact that men were animals, and he an 
 animal with them. 
 
 " / an animal ! '' cries Richard in scorn, and 
 for> weeks he was as troubled by this rudiment 
 of self-knowledge as Tom by his letters. Sir 
 Austin had him instructed in the Wonders of 
 Anatomy, to restore his self-respect. 
 
 Seed-time passed thus smoothly, and Adoles- 
 cence came on, and his cousin Clare felt what it 
 was to be of an opposite sex to him. She too 
 was growing, but nobody cared how she grew. 
 Outwardly even her mother seemed absorbed in 
 the sprouting of the green off- shoot of the Fe- 
 
222 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 verel Tree, and Clare was his handmaiden, Httle 
 marked by him. 
 
 The ladies of the Court who had not pub- 
 lished, or put their names to what they pub- 
 lished denouncing Sir Austin and his System, 
 wrote for tidings, and were overjoyed to hear of 
 its success. Lady Blandish was the only lady 
 by to witness to it. She honestly loved the boy. 
 She would tell him : " If I had been a girl, I 
 would have had you for my husband." And he 
 with the frankness of his years would reply : 
 " And how do you know I would have had 
 you ? " causing her to laugh and call him a silly 
 boy, for had he not heard her say, She would 
 have had him ? Terrible words, he knew not 
 then the meaning of ! 
 
 " You don't read your father's Book," she 
 said. Her own Copy was bound in purple 
 velvet, gilt-edged, as decorative ladies like to 
 have holier books, and she carried it about with 
 her, and quoted it, and (Adrian remarked to 
 Mrs. Doria) hunted a noble quarry, and delibe- 
 rately aimed at him, therewith, which Mrs. Doria 
 chose to believe, and regretted her brother would 
 not be on his guard. 
 
THE BLOSSOMING SEASON. 223 
 
 ''See here," said Lady Blandish, pressing an al- 
 mondy finger-nail to one of the Aphorisms, which 
 instanced how Age and Adversity must clay-en- 
 close us ere we can effectually resist the Magnet- 
 ism of any human creature in our path. " Can 
 you understand it, child ? " 
 
 Richard informed her that when she read he 
 could. 
 
 " Well, then, my Squire," she touched his 
 cheek and ran her fingers through his hair, 
 " learn as quick as you can not to be all hither 
 and yon with a hundred different attractions, as 
 I was before I met a wise man to guide me." 
 
 " Is my father very wise?" Richard asked. 
 
 " I think so," the lady emphasized her indi- 
 vidual judgment. 
 
 " Do you — -" Richard broke forth, and was 
 stopped by a beating of his heart. 
 
 " Do I — ■ what?" she calmly queried. 
 
 " I was going to say, do you — I mean, I love 
 him so much." 
 
 Lady Blandish smiled and slightly coloured. 
 
 They frequently approached this theme, and 
 always retreated from it; always with the same 
 beating of heart to Richard, accompanied by the 
 
224 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 sense of a growing Mystery, which however did 
 not as yet generally disturb him. 
 
 Life was made very pleasant to him at Rayn- 
 ham, as it was part of Sir Austin's principle of 
 education, that his boy should be thoroughly 
 joyous and happy; and whenever Adrian sent 
 in a satisfactory report of his pupil's advance- 
 ment, which he did pretty liberally, diversions 
 were planned, just as prizes are given to diligent 
 school-boys, and Richard was supposed to have 
 all his desires gratified, while he attended to 
 his studies. The System flourished. Dr. Clifford 
 had nothing but his old stock phrases to reply 
 with : the boy was a living argument against 
 him. Tall, strong, bloomingly healthy, he took 
 the lead of his companions on land and water, 
 and had more than one bondsman in his ser- 
 vice besides Ripton Thompson — the boy without 
 a Destiny ! Perhaps the boy with a Destiny, 
 was growing up a trifle too conscious of it. His 
 generosity to his occasional companions was 
 princely, but was exercised something too much 
 in the manner of a Prince; and notwithstand- 
 ing his contempt for baseness, he would over- 
 look that more easily than an oflence to his pride, 
 
THE BLOSSOMING SEASON. 225 
 
 which demanded an utter servihty when it had 
 once been rendered susceptible. If Richard had 
 his followers, he had also his feuds. The Pap- 
 worths were as subservient as Ripton, but young 
 Ralph Morton, the nephew of Mr. Morton, and 
 a match for Richard in numerous promising 
 qualities, comprising the noble science of fisti- 
 cuffs, this youth spoke his mind too openly, and 
 moreover would not be snubbed. There was no 
 middle course for Richard's comrades between 
 high friendship, or absolutely slavery. He was 
 deficient in those cosmopolite habits and feelings 
 w^hich enable boys and men to hold together 
 wdthout caring much for each other ; and, like 
 every insulated mortal, he attributed the defici- 
 ency, of which he was quite aware, to the fact of 
 his possessing a superior nature. Young Ralph 
 was a lively talker : therefore, argued Richard's 
 vanity, he had no intellect. He was affable : 
 therefore he was frivolous. The women Hked 
 him : therefore he Avas a butterfly. In fine, young 
 Ralph was popular, and our superb Prince, de- 
 nied the privilege of despising, ended by detest- 
 ing, him. 
 
 Early in the days of their contention for lea- 
 
 VOL. I. Q 
 
226 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 dersliip, Richard saw the absurdity of affecting 
 to scorn his rival. Ralph was an Eton boy, and 
 hence, being robust and shrewd, a swimmer and 
 a cricketer. A swimmer and a cricketer is no- 
 where to be scorned in youth's Republic. Pind-- 
 ing that manoeuvre would not do, Richard was 
 prompted once or twice to entrench himself be- 
 hind his greater wealth, and his position; but 
 he soon abandoned that also, partly because his 
 chilKness to ridicule told him he was exposing 
 himself, and chiefly that his heart was too chi- 
 valrous. And so he was dragged into the lists 
 by Ralph, and experienced the luck of champions. 
 For cricket, and for diving, Ralph bore away 
 the belt : Richard's middle-stump tottered before 
 his ball, and he could seldom pick up more than 
 three eggs under- water to Ralph's half-dozen. 
 He was beaten, too, in jumping and running. 
 Why will silly mortals strive to the painful pin- 
 nacles of championship? Or w^hy, once having 
 reached them, not have the magnanimity and cir- 
 cumspection to retire into private life immedi- 
 ately ? Stung by his defeats, Richard sent one 
 of his dependent Papworths to Poer Hall, with a 
 challenge to Ralph Barthrop Morton ; matching 
 
THE BLOSSOMING SEASON. 227 
 
 himself to swim across the Thames and back, 
 once, twice, or thrice, within a less time than 
 he, Ralph Barthrop Morton, would require for 
 the undertaking. It was accepted, and a reply 
 returned, equally formal in the trumpeting of 
 Christian names, wherein Ralph Barthrop Morton 
 acknowledged the challenge of Richard Doria 
 Feverel, and was his man. The match came off 
 on a Midsummer morning, under the direction 
 of Captain Algernon. Sir Austin was a spec- 
 tator from the cover of a plantation by the river- 
 side, unknown to his son, and, to the scandal of 
 her sex. Lady Blandish accompanied the Baro- 
 net. He had invited her attendance to try her, 
 and she, obeying her frank nature, and knowing 
 what The Pilgrim's Scrip said about Prudes, 
 at once agreed to view the match, pleasing him 
 mightily. Por was not here a woman worthy 
 the golden Ages of the world ? one who could 
 look upon man as a creature divinely made, and 
 look with a mind neither tempted, nor taunted, 
 by the Serpent ! Such a woman was rare. Sir 
 Austin did not discompose her by uttering his 
 praises. She was conscious of his approval only 
 in an increased gentleness of manner, and some- 
 
228 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 thins: in his voice and communications, as if he 
 were speaking to a familiar, a very high compli- 
 ment from him. While the lads were standing 
 ready for the signal to plunge from the steep de- 
 cline of greensward into the shining waters, Sir 
 Austin called upon her to admire their beauty, 
 and she did, and even advanced her head above 
 his shoulder delicately. In so doing, and just 
 as the start was given, a bonnet became visible 
 to Richard. They saw him suddenly catch his 
 hand to his side, and hesitate. Young Ralph 
 was heels in air before he moved, and then he 
 dropped like lead. He was beaten by several 
 lengths. 
 
 The result of the match was unaccountable to 
 all present, and Richard's friends unanimously 
 pressed him to plead a false start. But though 
 the youth, with full confidence in his better style 
 and equal strength, had backed himself heavily 
 against his rival, and had lost his little river- 
 yacht to Ralph, he would do nothing of the sort. 
 It was the Bonnet had beaten him, not Ralph. 
 The Bonnet, typical of the Mystery that caused 
 his heart those violent palpitations, the Bonnet 
 was his dear, detestable enemy. He took a sa- 
 
THE BLOSSOMING SEASON. 229 
 
 vage pleasure in attributing his evil luck to the 
 Eonnet. It distilled an exquisite bitter-sweet, the 
 notion that he was the victim of the Bonnet ! 
 
 And now as he progressed from mood to mood, 
 his ambition turned towards a field where Ptalph 
 could not rival him, and where the Bonnet was 
 etherealized, and reigned glorious mistress. A 
 check to the pride of a boy will frequently divert 
 him to the path where lie his subtlest powers. 
 Richard gave up his companions, servile, or an- 
 tagonist : he relinquished the material world to 
 young Ralph, and retired into himself, where he 
 was growing to be lord of kingdoms : where 
 Beauty was his Handmaid, and History his Mi- 
 nister, and Time his ancient Harper, and sweet 
 Romance his Bride : where he walked in a realm 
 vaster and more gorgeous than the great Orient, 
 peopled with the heroes that have been. For 
 there is no princely wealth, and no loftiest herit- 
 age to equal this early one that is made boun- 
 tifully common to so many, when the ripening 
 blood has put a spark to the imagination, and 
 the earth is seen through rosy mists of a thou- 
 sand fresh- awakened nameless and aimless de- 
 sires, panting for bliss, and taking it as it comes ; 
 
230 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 making of any siglit or sound, perforce of the 
 enchantment they carry with them, a key to in- 
 finite, because innocent, pleasure. The passions 
 then are gambolhng cubs ; not the ravaging glut- 
 tons they grow to. They have their teeth and 
 their talons, but they neither tear nor bite. They 
 are in counsel and fellowship with the quickened 
 heart and brain. The whole sweet system moves 
 to music. 
 
 Something akin to the indications of a change 
 in the spirit of his son, which were now seen, Sir 
 Austin had marked down to be expected, as due 
 to his plan. The blushes of the youth, his long 
 vigils, his clinging to solitude, his abstraction, and 
 downcast, but not melancholy, air, were matters 
 for rejoicing to the prescient gentleman. "For it 
 comes," said he to Dr. Clifford, after consulting 
 him medically on the youth's behalf and being as- 
 sured of his soundness, " it comes of a thoroughly 
 sane condition. The blood is healthy, the mind 
 virtuous : neither instigates the other to evil, and 
 both are perfecting toward the flower of manhood. 
 If he reach that pure — in the untainted fulness 
 and perfection of his natural powers, I am in- 
 deed a happy father ! But one thing he will owe 
 
THE BLOSSOMING SEASON. 231 
 
 to me : that at one period of his Ufe he knew Pa- 
 radise, and could read God's handwriting on the 
 earth ! Now those abominations whom you call 
 precocious boys — your little pet monsters, Doc- 
 tor ! — and who can wonder that the world is 
 what it is, when it is full of them ! — as they will 
 have no divine time to look back upon in their 
 own lives, how can they believe in innocence and 
 goodness, or be other than sons of selfishness 
 and the Devil? But my boy," and the Baronet 
 dropped his voice to a key that was touching to 
 hear, "my boy, if he fall, will fall from an actual 
 region of purity. He dare not be a sce])tic as to 
 that. Whatever his darkness, he will have the gui- 
 ding light of a memory behind him. So much 
 is secure." 
 
 To talk nonsense, or poetry, or the dash be- 
 tween the two, in a tone of profound sincerity, 
 and to enunciate solemn discordances with re- 
 ceived opinion so seriously as to convey the im- 
 pression of a spiritual insight, is the peculiar gift 
 by which monomaniacs, having first persuaded 
 themselves, contrive to influence their neighbours, 
 and through them to make conquest of a good 
 half of the world, for good or for ill. Sir Austin 
 
232 TPIE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 had this gift. He spoke as if he saw the Truth, 
 and persisting in it so long, he was accredited by 
 those who did not understand him, and silenced 
 them that did. "We shall see," was now all the 
 argument left to Dr. Clifford, and other unbe- 
 lievers. 
 
 So far certainly the experiment had succeeded. 
 A comelier, braver, better boy, was nowhere to be 
 met. His promise was undeniable. The vessel, 
 too, though it lay now in harbour, and had not 
 yet been proved by the buffets of the elements 
 on the great Ocean, had made a good trial trip, 
 and got well through stormy weather, as the re- 
 cords of the Bakewell Comedy witnessed to at 
 Raynham. No augury could be hopefuler. The 
 Fates must indeed be hard, the Ordeal severe, 
 the Destiny dark, that could destroy so bright a 
 Spring ! But bright as it was, the Baronet re- 
 laxed nothing of his vigilant supervision. He 
 said to his intimates : " Every act, every fostered 
 inclination, almost every thought, in this Blossom- 
 ing Season, bears its seed for the Future. The 
 living Tree now requires incessant watchfulness." 
 And acting up to his light. Sir Austin did watch. 
 The youth submitted to an hour's examination 
 
THE BLOSSOMING SEASON. 233 
 
 every night before he sought his bed ; profess- 
 edly to give an account of his studies ; but really 
 to recapitulate his moral experiences of the day. 
 He could do so, for he was pure. Any vi^ildness 
 in him that his father noted, any remoteness, or 
 richness, of fancy in his expressions, was set down 
 as incidental to the Blossoming Season, The Blos- 
 soming Season explained and answered for all. 
 There is nothing like a Theory for blinding the 
 wise. Sir Austin, despite his rigid watch and 
 ward, knew less of his son than the servant of 
 his household. And he was deaf, as well as blind. 
 Adrian thought it his duty to tell him that the 
 youth was consuming paper. Lady Blandish 
 likew^ise hinted at his mooning propensities. Sir 
 Austin from his lofty watch-tower of the System, 
 had foreseen it, he said. But when he came to 
 hear that the youth was WTiting Poetry, his 
 wounded heart had its reasons for being much 
 disturbed. 
 
 " Surely," said Lady Blandish, " you knew he 
 scribbled?" 
 
 " A very different thing from writing Poetry, 
 Madam," said the Baronet. "No Feverel has 
 ever written Poetry." 
 
234 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 " I don't tliink it 's a sign of degeneracy," the 
 lady remarked. " He rhymes very prettily to me." 
 
 A London Phrenologist, and a friendly Oxford 
 Professor of Poetry quieted Sir Austin's fears. 
 
 The Phrenologist said, he was totally deficient 
 in the imitative faculty ; and the Professor, that 
 he was equally so in the rhythmic, and instanced 
 several consoling false quantities in the few effu- 
 sions submitted to him. iVdded to this. Sir Aus- 
 tin told Lady Blandish, that Richard had, at his 
 hest, done what no poet had ever been known to 
 be capable of doing : he had, with his own hands, 
 and in cold blood, committed his virgin Manu- 
 script to the flames : which made Lady Blandish 
 sigh forth, " Poor boy !" 
 
 Killing one's darling child is a painful imposi- 
 tion. Por a youth in his Blossoming Season, who 
 fancies himself a poet, to be requested to destroy 
 his first-born, without a reason (though to pre- 
 tend a reason cogent enough to justify the request 
 were a mockery), is a piece of abhorrent despot- 
 ism, and Richard's blossoms withered under it. 
 A strange man had been introduced to him, who 
 traversed and bisected his skull with sagacious 
 stiff fingers, and crushed his soul while, in an in- 
 
THE BLOSSOMING SEASON. 235 
 
 fallible voice, declaring liira the animal lie was : 
 making him feel such an animal ! Not only his 
 blossoms withered, his being seemed to draw in 
 its shoots and twigs. And when, coupled there- 
 unto (the strange man having departed, his work 
 done), his father, in his tenderest manner, stated 
 that it would give him pleasure to see those same 
 precocious, utterly valueless, scribblings among 
 the cinders, the last remaining mental blossoms 
 spontaneously fell away. Richard's spirit stood 
 bare. He protested not. Enough that it could 
 be wished 1 He would not delay a minute in 
 doing it. Desiring his father to follow him, he 
 went to a drawer in his room, and from a clean- 
 linen recess, never suspected by Sir Austin, the 
 secretive youth drew out bundle after bundle : 
 each neatly tied, named, and numbered : and 
 despicably pitched them into the flames. And 
 so Farewell my young Ambition ! and with it 
 Farewell all true confidence between Father and 
 Son. 
 
236 
 
 CHAPTER XVL 
 
 THE MAGNETIC AGE. 
 
 It was now, as Sir Austin had written it down, 
 The Magnetic Age : the Age of violent attrac- 
 tions ; when to hear mention of Love is danger- 
 ous, and to see it, a communication of the disease. 
 People at Raynham were put on their guard by 
 the Baronet, and his reputation for wisdom was 
 severely criticized in consequence of the injunc- 
 tions he thought fit to issue through butler and 
 housekeeper down to the lower household, for the 
 preservation of his son from any visible symptom 
 of the passion. A footman and two housemaids 
 are believed to have been dismissed on the re- 
 port of Heavy Benson that they were in, or incH- 
 ning to, the state ; upon which an under-cook and 
 a dairymaid voluntarily threw up their places, 
 averring that " they did not want no young men, 
 but to have their sex spied after by an old wretch 
 
THE MAGNETIC AGE. 237 
 
 like that," indicating the ponderous butler, " was 
 a little too much for a Christian woman," and 
 then they were ungenerous enough to glance at 
 Benson's well-known marital calamity, hinting 
 that some men met their deserts. So intolerable 
 did Heavy Benson's espionage become, that 
 Raynham would have grown depopulated of 
 its womankind, had not Adrian interfered, who 
 pointed out to the Baronet what a fearful arm 
 his butler was wielding. Sir Austin acknow- 
 ledged it despondently. " It only shows," said 
 he, with a fine spirit of justice, " how all but im- 
 possible it is to legislate where there are women!" 
 
 " I do not object," he added, " I hope I am 
 too just to object to the exercise of their natural 
 inclinations. All I ask from them is discreet- 
 ness." 
 
 '' Ay," said Adrian, whose discreetness was a 
 marvel. 
 
 " No gadding about in couples," continued 
 the Baronet, ''no kissing in public. Such occur- 
 rences no boy should witness. Whenever people 
 of both sexes are thrown together, they will be 
 silly, and where they are high-fed, uneducated, 
 and barely occupied, it must be looked for as a 
 
238 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 matter of course. Let it be known that I only 
 require discreetness." 
 
 Discreetness, therefore, was instructed to reign 
 at the Abbey. Under Adrian's able tuition, the 
 fairest of its domestics acquired that virtue. 
 
 Discreetness, too, was enjoined to the upper 
 household. Sir Austin, who had not previously 
 appeared to notice the case of Lobourne's hope- 
 less curate, now desired Mrs. Doria to interdict, 
 or at least discourage, his visits, for the appear- 
 ance of the man was that of an embodied sigh 
 and groan. 
 
 " Really, Austin !" said Mrs. Doria, astonished 
 to find her brother more awake than she had 
 supposed, " I have never allowed him to hope." 
 
 " Let him see it, then," replied the Baronet, 
 " let him see it." 
 
 " The man amuses me," said Mrs. Doria. 
 " You know, we have few amusements here, we 
 inferior creatures. I confess I should like a 
 barrel-organ better : that reminds one of town 
 and the Opera ; and besides, it plays more than 
 one tune. However, since you think my society 
 bad for him, let him stop away." 
 
 The sight of the Note-Book backing a sardo- 
 
THE MAGNETIC AGE. 239 
 
 nic smile, caused Mrs. Doria her unusual flash of 
 irony ; and truly it was hard upon a lady to mark 
 this cold Rhadamanthus deliberately and openly 
 jotting her down to fire judgment and condem- 
 nation at her sex in some future edition of the 
 Verdicts. With the self-devotion of a woman, 
 she abjured it, and grew patient and sweet the 
 moment her daughter Clare was spoken of, and 
 the business of her life in view. Mrs. Doria's 
 maternal heart had betrothed the two cousins, 
 Richard and Clare ; had already beheld them 
 espoused, and fruitfid. For this she yielded the 
 pleasures of town : for this she immured herself 
 at Raynham : for this she bore with a thousand 
 follies, exactions, inconveniences, things abhorrent 
 to her, and Heaven knows what forms of torture 
 and self-denial, which are smilingly endured by 
 that greatest of voluntary martyrs, a mother with 
 a daughter to marry. Mrs. Doria, an amiable 
 widow, had surely married but for her daughter 
 Clare. The lady's hair no woman could possess 
 without feeling it h.er pride. It was the daily 
 theme of her lady's-maid, — a natural aureole to 
 her head. She was gay, witty, still physically 
 youthful enough to claim a destiny : and she 
 
240 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD EEVEREL. 
 
 sacrificed it to accomplish her daughter's ! sacri- 
 ficed, as with heroic scissors, hair, wit, gaiety — 
 let us uot attempt to enumerate how much 1 
 more than may be said. And she was only one 
 of thousands : thousands who have no portion of 
 the hero's reward : for he may reckon on applause, 
 and condolence, and sympathy, and honour ; 
 they, poor slaves ! must look for nothing but the 
 opposition of their own sex, and the sneers of 
 ours. Oh, Sir Austin ! had you not been so 
 blinded, what an Aphorism might have sprung 
 from this point of observation ! Mrs. Doria was 
 coolly told, betw^een sister and brother, that, dur- 
 ing the Magnetic Age, her daughter's presence at 
 Raynham w^as undesirable. Instead of nursing 
 offence, her sole thought was, the mountain of pre- 
 judice she had to contend against. She bowed, 
 and said, Clare wanted sea-air — she had never 
 quite recovered the shock of that dreadful night. 
 How long, Mrs. Doria washed to know, might 
 the Peculiar Period be expected to last ? 
 
 " That," said Sir Austin, " depends. A year 
 perhaps. He is entering on it. I shall be most 
 grieved to lose you, Helen. Clare is now^ — how 
 old?" 
 
THE MAGNETIC AGE. 241 
 
 " Seventeen." 
 
 " She is marriageable." 
 
 '' Marriageable, Austin ! at seventeen ! don't 
 name such a thing. My child shall not be robbed 
 of her youth." 
 
 " Our women marry early, Helen." 
 
 "My child shall not!" 
 
 The Baronet reflected a moment. He did not 
 wish to lose his sister. 
 
 " As you are of that opinion, Helen," said he, 
 " perhaps we may still make arrangements to re- 
 tain you with us. Would you think it advisable 
 to send Clare — she should know discipline — to 
 some Establishment for a few months? ..." 
 
 "To an Asylum, Austin?" cried Mrs. Doria, 
 controlling her indignation as well as she could. 
 
 " To some select superior Seminary, Helen. 
 There are such to be found." 
 
 " Austin !" Mrs. Doria exclaimed, and had to 
 fight with a moisture in her eyes. Unjust ! ab- 
 surd ! she murmured. The Baronet thought it a 
 natural proposition that Clare should be a bride, 
 or a schoolgirl. 
 
 "I cannot leave my child." Mrs. Doria 
 trembled. " Where she goes, I go. I am aware 
 
 VOL. I. R 
 
242 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 that she is only one of our sex, and therefore of 
 no value to the world, but she is my child. I will 
 see, poor dear, that you have no cause to com- 
 plain of her." , 
 
 " 1 thought," Sir Austin remarked, " that you 
 acquiesced in my views with regard to my son." 
 
 "Yes — generally," said Mrs. Doria, and felt 
 culpable that she had not before, and could not 
 then, tell her brother that he had set up an Idol 
 in his house — an Idol of flesh ! more retributive 
 and abominable than Wood, or Brass, or Gold. 
 But she had bowed to the Idol too long, — -she 
 had too entirely bound herself to gain her project 
 by subserviency, to enjoy that gratification now. 
 She had, and she dimly perceived it, committed 
 a greater fault in tactics, in teaching her daughter 
 to bow to the Idol also. Love of that kind, 
 Richard took for tribute. He was indifferent to 
 Clare's soft eyes. The parting kiss he gave her 
 was ready and cold as his father could desire, 
 and Sir Austin had hardly slept overnight for 
 thinking of the effect it might have on the Mag- 
 netic youth. He caressed his son as if Richard 
 had done something virtuous. Compensation his 
 boy should have for any trifling crosses to his 
 
THE MAGNETIC AGE. 243 
 
 feelings. He should have yachts, horses, what- 
 ever he fancied. Sir Austin now grew eloquent 
 to him in laudation of manly pursuits : but 
 Richard thought his eloquence barren, his at- 
 tempts at companionship awkward, and all manly 
 pursuits and aims, life itself, vain and worthless. 
 To what end ? sighed the blossomless youth, and 
 cried aloud, as soon as he was relieved of his 
 father's society, what was the good of anything ? 
 Whatever he did — whichever path he selected, 
 led back to Raynham. And wdiatever he did, 
 and however wretched and wayw ard he showed 
 himself, only confirmed Sir Austin more and more 
 in the truth of his previsions. Tom Bakewxll, 
 now the youth's groom, had to give the Baronet 
 a report of his young master's proceedings, in 
 common with Adrian, and while there w^as no 
 harm to tell, Tom spoke out. '' He do ride like 
 fire every day to Pig's Snout," naming the high- 
 est hill in the neighbourhood, " and stand there, 
 and stare, never movin', like a mad 'un. And 
 then hoam agin all slack as if he 'd been beaten 
 in a race by summody." 
 
 To the interrogation — Did he look East, or 
 West ? Tom, dreading a snare, replied, that he 
 
244 THE ORDEAL OE RICHARD EEVEREL. 
 
 had not marked : " He seemed for to look where 
 he could look fur away." 
 
 " There is no woman in that ! " mused the 
 Baronet. " He would have ridden back as hard 
 as he went/' reflected this profound Scientific 
 Humanist, " had there been a woman in it. He 
 would shun vast expanses, and seek shade, con- 
 cealment, solitude. The desire for distances be- 
 tokens emptiness and undirected hunger : w^hen 
 the heart is possessed by an image we fly to 
 wood and forest, like the guilty." 
 
 Adrian's report accused his pupil of an extra- 
 ordinary access of cynicism. 
 
 " Exactly," said the Baronet. " Just so. As 
 I foresaw. At this period an insatiate appetite 
 is accompanied by a fastidious palate. Nothing 
 but the quintessences of existence, and those 
 in exhaustless supphes, will satisfy this craving, 
 which is not to be satisfied 1 Hence his bitter- 
 ness. Life can furnish no food fitting for him. 
 The strength and purity of his energies have 
 reached to an almost divine height, and roam 
 through the Inane. Poetry, Love, and such-like, 
 are the drugs Earth has to offer to high natures, 
 as she offers to low ones Debauchery. 'Tis a 
 
THE MAGNETIC AGE. 245 
 
 sign, tills sourness, that he is subject to none of 
 the empiricisms that are afloat. Now to keep 
 him clear of them ! " 
 
 The Titans had an easier task in storming 
 Olympus. As yet, however, it could not be said 
 that Sir Austin's System had failed. On the 
 contrary, it had reared a youth, handsome, intel- 
 ligent, well-bred, and, observed the ladies, with 
 acute emphasis, innocent. Where, they asked, 
 w^as such another young man to be found ? 
 
 " Oh ! " said Lady Blandish to Sir Austin,'' if 
 men could give their hands to women unsoiled — 
 how different would many a marriage be ! She 
 will be a happy girl who calls Richard, husband." 
 
 " Happy indeed ! " was the Baronet's caustic 
 ejaculation. " But where shall I meet one equal 
 to him, and his match?" 
 
 " I was innocent when I was a girl," said the 
 lady. 
 
 Sir Austin bowed a reserved opinion. 
 
 "Do you think no girls innocent ?" 
 
 Sir Austin gallantly thought them all so. 
 
 " No, that you know they are not," said the 
 lady, stamping. " But they are more innocent 
 than boys, I am sure." 
 
246 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 " Because of tlieir Education, Madam. You 
 see now what a youtli can be. Perhaps, when 
 my System is pubhshed, or rather — to speak 
 more humbly — when it is practised, the balance 
 may be restored, and we shall have virtuous 
 young men." 
 
 " It 's too late for poor me to hope for a hus- 
 band from one of them," said the lady, pouting 
 and laughing. 
 
 " It is never too late for Beauty to waken 
 Love," returned the Baronet, and they trifled a 
 little. They were approaching Daphne's Bower, 
 which they entered, and sat there to taste the 
 coolness of a descending Midsummer day. 
 
 The Baronet seemed in a humour for dignified 
 fooling ; the lady for serious converse. 
 
 " I shall believe again in Arthur's knights," 
 she said. " When I was a girl I dreamed of 
 one. 
 
 " And he was in quest of the San Greal ? " 
 
 " If you like." 
 
 '' And showed his good taste by turning aside 
 for the more tangible San Blandish?" 
 
 " Of course you consider it would have been 
 so," sighed the lady, ruffling. 
 
THE MAGNETIC AGE. 247 
 
 " I can only judge by our generation," said 
 Sir Austin, with a bend of homage. 
 
 The lady gathered her mouth. " Either we 
 are very mighty, or you are very weak." 
 
 " Both, Madam." 
 
 " But w^hatever we are, and if we are bad, 
 bad ! we love virtue, and truth, and lofty souls, 
 in men : and when we meet those quahties in 
 them, we are constant, and would die for them 
 — die for them. Ah ! you know men, but not 
 women." 
 
 " The knights possessing such distinctions 
 must be young, I presume ? " said Sir Austin. 
 
 " Old, or young ! " 
 
 " But if old, they are scarce capable of enter- 
 prise r 
 
 " They are loved for themselves, not for their 
 deeds." 
 
 "Ah!" 
 
 " Yes — Ah ! " said the lady, mocking him. 
 " Intellect may subdue women — make slaves of 
 them ; and they worship Beauty perhaps as much 
 as you do. But they only love for ever and are 
 mated when they meet a noble nature." 
 
 Sir Austin looked at her wistfully. 
 
248 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 " And did you encounter the knight of your 
 dream ? " 
 
 " Not then." She lowered her eyelids. It was 
 prettily done. 
 
 " And how did you bear the disappointment ? " 
 
 " My dream was in the Nursery. The day 
 my frock was lengthened to a gown I stood at 
 the altar. I am not the only girl that has been 
 made a woman in a day, and given to an ogre 
 instead of a true knight." 
 
 " Good God ! " exclaimed Sir Austin, " women 
 have much to bear." 
 
 Here the couple changed characters. The lady 
 became gay as the Baronet grew earnest. 
 
 " You know it is our lot," she said. "And we 
 are allowed many amusements. If we fulfil our 
 duty in producing children, that, like our virtue, 
 is its own reward. Then, as a widow, I have 
 wonderful privileges." 
 
 " To preserve which, you remain a widow?" 
 
 " Certainly," she responded. " I have no 
 trouble now in patching and piecing that rag 
 the world calls — a character. I can sit at your 
 feet every day unquestioned. To be sure. Miss 
 Blewins and Mrs. Cashentire do the same, but 
 
THE MAGNETIC AGE. 249 
 
 they are female eccentrics, and have cast off the 
 rag altogether : mme mends itself." 
 
 Sir Austin drew nearer to her. " You would 
 have made an admirable mother, Madam." 
 
 The lady smiled. This from Sir Austin was 
 very like positive wooing. 
 
 " It is," he continued, " ten thousand pities 
 that you are not one." 
 
 '' Do you think so ? " She spoke with an ex- 
 treme humility. 
 
 " I would," he went on, " that Heaven had 
 given you a daughter." 
 
 " Would you have thought her worthy of 
 Richard ? " 
 
 " Our blood. Madam, should have been one !" 
 
 The lady tapped her toe with her parasol, 
 blushing. " But I am a mother," she said. 
 
 Sir Austin's brows started up. 
 
 " Richard is my son." 
 
 Sir Austin looked relieved. That he could 
 look relieved by so presumptuous a speech, was 
 a sign how far the lady had gone with him. 
 
 " Yes ! Richard is my boy," she reiterated. 
 
 Sir Austin most graciously appended : " Call 
 him ours. Madam," and held his head as if to 
 
250 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 catch the word from her Hps, which, however, 
 she chose to refuse, or defer. They made the 
 coloured West a common point for their eyes 
 several minutes, and then Sir Austin said : 
 "Listen, Madam." 
 
 Lady Blandish turned to him very sweetly. 
 
 " As you will not say ' ours,' Madam, let me. 
 And as you have therefore an equal claim in the 
 boy, I will confide to you a project I have lately 
 conceived." 
 
 The announcement of a project hardly savoured 
 of a coming proposal, but for Sir Austin to con- 
 fide one to a woman was almost tantamount to 
 a declaration. So Lady Blandish thought, and 
 so said her soft, deep-eyed, smile, as she pe- 
 rused the ground while listening to the project. 
 It concerned Richard's nuptials. He was now 
 nearly eighteen. He was to marry when he 
 was five-and-twenty. Meantime a young lady, 
 some years his junior, was to be sought for 
 in the homes of England, who would be every 
 way fitted by education, instincts, and blood — on 
 each of which qualifications Sir Austin unreserv- 
 edly enlarged — to espouse so perfect a youth and 
 accept the honourable duty of assisting in the 
 
THE MAGNETIC AGE. 251 
 
 perpetuation of the Fever els. The Baronet went 
 on to say that he proposed to set forth imme- 
 diately, and devote a couple of months, to the 
 first essay in his Coelebite search. 
 
 " I fear/' said Lady Blandish, when the pro- 
 ject had been fully unfolded, "you have laid 
 down for yourself a difficult task. You must not 
 be too exacting." 
 
 " I know it." The Baronet's shake of the 
 head was piteous. " Even in England she will 
 be rare. But I confine myself to no class. If I 
 ask for blood, it is for untainted, not what you 
 call high blood. I beheve many of the middle 
 classes are frequently more careful — more pure- 
 blooded — than our aristocracy. Show me among 
 them a God-fearing family who educate their 
 children — I should prefer a girl without brothers 
 and sisters — as a Christian damsel should be 
 educated — say, on the model of my son, and she 
 may be penniless, I will pledge her to Richard 
 Eeverel." 
 
 Lady Blandish bit her hp. " And what do 
 you do with Richard while you are absent on 
 this expedition?" 
 
 " Oh 1" said the Baronet, " he accompanies his 
 father." 
 
25.2 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 " Then gi/e it up. His future bride is now 
 pinafored, and bread-and-buttery. She romps, 
 she cries, she dreams of play and pudding. How 
 can he care for her ? He thinks more at his age 
 of old women like me. He will be certain to 
 kick against her, and destroy your plan, believe 
 me, Sir Austin." 
 
 " Ay? ay? do you think that?" said the Ba- 
 ronet. 
 
 Lady Blandish gave him a multitude of rea- 
 sons. 
 
 " Ay ! true," he muttered. " Adrian said the 
 same. He must not see her. How could I think 
 of it ! The child is naked woman. He would 
 despise her. Naturally ! " 
 
 " Naturally !" echoed the lady. 
 
 " Then, Madam," and the Baronet rose, " there 
 is one thing for me to determine upon. I must, 
 for the first time in his life, leave him." 
 
 " Will you, indeed?" said the lady. 
 
 " It is my duty, Madam, having thus brought 
 him up, to see that he is properly mated, — not 
 wrecked upon the quicksands of Marriage, as a 
 youth so dehcately trained might be ; more easily 
 than another ! Betrothed, he will be safe from a 
 
THE MAGNETIC AGE. 253 
 
 thousand snares. I may, I think, leave him for 
 a term. My precautions have saved him from 
 the temptations of his season.'' 
 
 " And under whose charge will you leave 
 him?" Lady Blandish inquired. 
 
 She had emerged from the Temple, and stood 
 beside Sir Austin on the upper steps, under a 
 clear Summer twilight. 
 
 " Madam ! " he took her hand, and his voice was 
 gallant and tender, "under whose but yours?" 
 
 As the Baronet said this, he bent above her 
 hand, and raised it to his lips. 
 
 Lady Blandish felt that she had been wooed 
 and asked in wedlock. She did not withdraw 
 her hand. The Baronet's salute was flatteringly 
 reverent. He deliberated over it, as one going 
 through a grave ceremony. And he, the scorner 
 of women, had chosen her for his homage ! Lady 
 Blandish forgot that she had taken some trouble 
 to arrive at it. She received the exquisite com- 
 pliment in all its unique honey-sweet : for in love 
 we must deserve nothing, or the line bloom of 
 fruition is gone. 
 
 The lady's hand was still in durance, and the 
 Baronet had not recovered from his profound 
 
254 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 inclination, when a noise from the neighbouring 
 beechwood startled the two actors in this courtly 
 pantomime. They turned their heads, and be- 
 held the Hope of Raynham on horseback, sur- 
 veying the scene aghast. The next moment he 
 had galloped away. 
 
255 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 AN ATTRACTION. 
 
 All night Richard tossed on his bed with his 
 heart in a rapid canter, and his brain bestriding 
 it, traversing the rich untasted world, and the 
 great Realm of Mystery, from which he was now 
 restrained no longer. Months he had wandered 
 about the gates of the Bonnet, wondering, sigh- 
 ing, knocking at them, and getting neither ad- 
 mittance nor answer. He had the key now. His 
 own father had given it him. His heart was a 
 lightning steed, and bore him on and on over 
 limitless regions bathed in superhuman beauty 
 and strangeness, where cavaliers and ladies leaned 
 whispering upon close green swards, and knights 
 and ladies cast a splendour upon savage forests^ 
 and tilts and tourneys were held in golden 
 Courts lit to a glorious day by ladies' eyes, one 
 pair of which, dimly visioned, constantly distin- 
 
256 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 guisliable, followed him through the boskage and 
 dwelt upon him in the press, beaming while he 
 bent above a hand glittering white and fra- 
 grant as the frosted blossom of a May-night. 
 Awhile the heart would pause and flutter to a 
 shock : he was in the act of consummating all 
 earthly bliss by pressing his lips to the small 
 white hand. Only to do that, and die ! cried the 
 Magnetic Youth : to fling the Jewel of Life into 
 that one cup, and drink it off" ! He was intoxicated 
 by anticipation. For that he was born. There 
 was, then, some end in existence, something to 
 live for ! to kiss a woman's hand, and die ! He 
 would leap from the couch, and rush to pen 
 and paper to relieve his swarming sensations. 
 Scarce was he seated, when the pen was dashed 
 aside, the paper sent flying, with the exclamation, 
 " Have I not sworn I would never write again ?" 
 Sir Austin had shut that safety-valve. The non- 
 sense that was in the youth might have poured 
 harmlessly out, and its urgency for ebullition 
 was so great that he was repeatedly oblivious 
 of his oath, and found himself seated under the 
 lamp in the act of composition, before Pride 
 could speak a word. Possibly the pride even of 
 
AN ATTRACTION. 257 
 
 Richard Feverel had been swamped if the act 
 of composition were easy at such a time, and a 
 single idea could stand clearly foremost; but 
 myriads were demanding the first place ; chaotic 
 hosts, like ranks of stormy billows, pressed im- 
 petuously for expression, and despair of reducing 
 them to form, quite as much as pride, to which 
 it pleased him to refer his incapacity, threw down 
 the powerless pen, and sent him panting to his 
 outstretched length and another headlong career 
 through the rosy-girdled land. 
 
 Towards morning the madness of the fever 
 abated somewhat, and he w^ent forth into the 
 air. A lamp was still burning in his father's 
 room, and Richard thought, as he looked up, 
 that he saw the ever- vigilant head on the watch. 
 Instantly the lamp was extinguished, the window 
 stood cold against the hues of dawn. Had 
 he cast a second glance at his own chamber, he 
 might then have seen the ever-vigilant head on 
 the watch. Sir Austin had slept no more than 
 his son. Beholding him so early abroad, his 
 worst fears were awakened. He hurried to gaze 
 at the forsaken couch, a picture of tempest : the 
 papers, with half- written words ending in reckless 
 
 VOL. I. s 
 
258 THE OUDEAL OE RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 tails and wild dashes, strewn everywhere about, 
 blankly eloquent : chairs upset, drawers left open, 
 companion slippers astray about the room. The 
 abashed Baronet dared not whisper to his soul 
 what had thus distracted the youth. As little 
 could he make self-confession that it was impos- 
 sible for him to face his son for some time to 
 come. No doubt his conscious e^^e looked in- 
 ward, and knew; but he chose to juggle w^ith 
 it, and say to himself, that not an hour must 
 be lost in betrothing Richard, and holding him 
 bond to virtue, and therefore he would imme- 
 diately depart on his expedition. The pain of 
 not foldino; the beloved son to his breast before 
 he went, was moreover a fortunate beguilement 
 of the latent dread that his going just now was 
 a false step. It would be their first separation. 
 Sir Austin ascended to the roof of the Abbey, 
 and descried him hastening to the boat-house 
 by the river-side. Ere he was out of sight, the 
 Baronet's sense of sacrifice had blinded his con- 
 scious eye, and enabled him to feel altogether a 
 martyr to Duty. 
 
 Strong pulling is an excellent medical remedy 
 for certain classes of fever. Richard took to it 
 
AN ATTRACTION. 259 
 
 instinctively. The clear fresh water, burnished 
 with sunrise, sparkled against his arrowy prow : 
 the soft deep shadows curled smiling away from 
 his gliding keel. Overhead solitary morning 
 unfolded itself, from blossom to bud, from bud 
 to flower; still delicious changes of light and co- 
 lour, to whose influences he was heedless as he 
 shot under willows and aspens, and across sheets 
 of river-reaches, pure mirrors to the upper glory, 
 himself the sole tenant of the stream. Some- 
 where at the founts of the world lay the land he 
 was rowing towards : something of its shadowed 
 lights might be discerned here and there. It 
 was not a dream, now he knew. There was a 
 secret abroad. The woods were full of it ; the 
 waters rolled with it, and the winds. Oh, why 
 could not one in these days do some high knightly 
 deed which should draw down ladies' eyes from 
 their heaven, as in the days of Arthur ! To such 
 a meaning breathed the unconscious sighs of the 
 youth, when he had pulled through his first fe- 
 verish energy. 
 
 He was ofi" Bursley, and had lapsed a little into 
 that musing quietude which follows strenuous 
 exercise, when he heard a hail and his own name 
 
260 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 called. It was no lady, no fairy, but young 
 Ralph Morton, an irruption of miserable mascu- 
 line prose. Heartily wishing him abed with the 
 rest of mankind, Richard rowed in and jumped 
 ashore. Ralph immediately seized his arm, say- 
 ing that he desired earnestly to have a talk with 
 him, and dragged the Magnetic Youth from his 
 water- dreams, up and down the wet mown grass. 
 That he had to say seemed to be difficult of ut- 
 terance, and Richard, though he barely listened, 
 soon had enough of his old rival's gladness at 
 seeing him, and exhibited signs of impatience ; 
 whereat Ralph, as one who branches into matter 
 somewhat foreign to his mind, but of great human 
 interest and importance, put the question to him : 
 
 " I say, what woman's name do you like best ?" 
 
 " I don't know any," quoth Richard indiffe- 
 rently. " Why are you out so early ?" 
 
 In answer to this, Ralph suggested that the 
 name of Mary might be considered a pretty name. 
 
 Richard agreed that it might be : the house- 
 keeper at Raynham, half the women cooks and 
 all the housemaids enjoyed that name : the name 
 of Mary was equivalent for w^oman at home. 
 
 " Yes, I know," said Ralph. " We have lots 
 
AN ATTRACTION. 261 
 
 of Marys. It 's so common. Oh ! I don't like 
 Mary best. What do you think of Lucy ?" 
 
 Richard thought it just hke another. 
 
 " Do you know," Ralph continued, throwing 
 off the mask and plunging into the subject, 
 " I 'd do anything on earth for some names — one 
 or two. It 's not Mary, or Lucy. Clarinda's 
 pretty, but it 's like a novel. Claribel I like. 
 Names beginning with ' Cr I prefer. The ' Cl's' 
 are always gentle and lovely girls you would die 
 for ! Don't you think so ?" 
 
 Richard had never been acquainted with any 
 for them to inspire that emotion. Indeed these 
 urgent appeals to his fancy in feminine names 
 at five o'clock in the morning, slightly surprised 
 him, though he was but half awake to the outer 
 world. By degrees he perceived that Ralph was 
 quite changed. Instead of the lusty boisterous 
 boy, his rival in manly sciences, who spoke 
 straightforwardly and acted up to his speech, 
 here was an abashed and blush-persecuted youth, 
 who sued piteously for a friendly ear wherein to 
 pour the one idea possessing him. Gradually, 
 too, Richard apprehended that Ralph likewise 
 was on the frontiers of the Reahn of Mystery, 
 
262 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 perhaps further towards it than he himself was ; 
 and then, as by a sympathetic stroke, was re- 
 vealed to him the wonderful beauty and depth of 
 meaning in feminine names. The theme appeared 
 novel and delicious, fitted to the season and the 
 hour. But the hardship was that Richard could 
 choose none from the number ; all were the same 
 to him ; he loved them all. 
 
 "Don't you really prefer the 'Cl's?'' said 
 Ralph, most persuasively. 
 
 " Not better than the names ending in 'a' and 
 ' y V' Richard replied, wishing he could, for Ralph 
 was evidently ahead of him. 
 
 " Come under these trees," said Ralph. And 
 under the trees Ralph unbosomed. His name 
 was down for the army : Eton was quitted for 
 ever. In a few days he would have to join his 
 regiment, and before he left he must say good 
 bye to his friends .... would Richard tell him 
 Mrs. Porey's address? he had heard she was 
 somewhere by the sea. Richard did not remem- 
 ber the address, but said he would wiUingly take 
 charge of any letter and forward it. 
 
 " Will you?" cried Ralph, diving his hand into 
 his pocket, " here it is. But don't let anybody 
 see it." 
 
AN ATTRACTION. 263 
 
 " My aunt's name is not Clare/' said Richard, 
 perusing what was composed of the exterior for- 
 mula. 
 
 "Ah! why, you've addressed it to Clare herself." 
 
 "Have I?" murmured Ralph, hiding his hot 
 face in a stumble, and then peeping at the ad- 
 dress to verify. " So I have. The address, you 
 know .... It's because I like to write the name 
 of Clare," he added hurriedly, by w^ay of excel- 
 lent justification. 
 
 "Is that the name you like best ?" 
 
 Ralph counterqueried, "Don't you think it 
 very nice — beautiful, I mean?" 
 
 " Not so good as Clara," said Richard. 
 
 " Oh ! a hundred times better," shouted young 
 Ralph in a fervour. 
 
 Richard meditated unwittingly : "I suppose we 
 like the names of the people we like best." 
 
 No answer from Ralph. 
 
 " Emmeline Clementina Matilda Laura, Coun- 
 tess Blandish," Richard continued in a low tone, 
 transferring the names, and playing on them like 
 musical strings. 
 
 "Eh?" quoth Ralph. 
 
 " I 'm certain," said Richard, as he finished his 
 performance, " I 'm certain we like the names 
 
264 THE ORDEAL OE RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 of the people we like best." And having made 
 this great discovery for himself, he fixed his eyes 
 on blushing Ralph. If he discovered anything 
 further, he said nothing, but bade him good 
 bye, jumped back into his boat, and pulled 
 down the tide. The moment Ralph was hidden 
 by an abutment of the banks, Richard reperused 
 the address. For the first time it struck him 
 that his cousin Clare was a very charming crea- 
 ture : he remembered the look of her eyes, and 
 especially the last reproachful glance she gave 
 him at parting. What business, pray, had Ralph 
 to write to her? Did she not belong to him, 
 Richard Feverel ? He read the words again and 
 again : Clare Doria Forey. Why, Clare was the 
 name he liked best: nay, he loved it. Doria, 
 too : she shared his own name with him. Away 
 went his heart, not at a canter now, at a gallop, 
 as one who sights the quarry. He felt too weak 
 to pull. Clare Doria Forey — oh, perfect melody ! 
 Shding with the tide, he heard it fluting in the 
 bosom of the hills. 
 
 When Nature has made us ripe for Love, it 
 seldom occurs that the Fates are behindhand in 
 fiirnishing a Temple for the flame. 
 
AN ATTRACTION. 265 
 
 Above green-flasliing plunges of a weir, and 
 shaken by the thunder below, lilies, golden and 
 white, were swaying at anchor among the reeds. 
 Meadow-sweet hung from the banks thick with 
 weed and trailing bramble, and there also hung 
 a daughter of Earth, Her face was shaded by a 
 broad straw-hat with a flexile brim that left her 
 lips and chin in the sun, and sometimes nodding, 
 sent forth a light of promising eyes. Across her 
 shoulders, and behind, flowed large loose curls, 
 brown in shadow, almost golden where the ray 
 touched them. ' She was simply dressed, befitting 
 decency and the season. On a closer inspection 
 you might see that her lips were stained. This 
 blooming young person was regaling on dew- 
 berries. They grew between the bank and the 
 water. Apparently she found the fruit abundant, 
 for her hand was making pretty progress to 
 her mouth, fastidious youth, which shudders 
 and revolts at woman plumping her exquisite 
 proportions on bread-and-butter, and would (we 
 must suppose) joyfully have her quite scraggy to 
 have her quite poetical, can hardly object to dew- 
 berries. Indeed the act of eating them is dainty 
 and induces musing. The dewberry is a sister 
 
266 THE ORDEAL OE RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 to the lotos, and an innocent sister. You eat : 
 mouth, eye, and hand, are occupied, and the un- 
 drugged mind free to roam. And so it was with 
 the damsel who knelt there. The little sky- 
 lark went up above her, all song, to the smooth 
 southern cloud lying along the blue: from a 
 dewy copse standing dark over her nodding hat, 
 the blackbird fluted, calling to her with thrice 
 mellow note : the kingfisher flashed emerald out 
 of green osiers : a bow-winged heron traveUed 
 aloft, searching solitude : a boat slipped towards 
 her, containing a dreamy youth, and still she 
 plucked the fruit, and ate, and mused, as if no 
 fairy prince w^re invading her territories, and as 
 if she wished not for one, or knew not her wishes. 
 Surrounded by the green shaven meadows, the 
 pastoral summer buzz, the weir-fall's thundering 
 white, amid the breath and beauty of wildflowers, 
 she w^as a bit of lovely hximan life in a fair set- 
 ting : a terrible attraction. The Magnetic Youth 
 leaned round to note his proximity to the weir- 
 piles, and beheld the sweet vision. Stiller and 
 stiller grew Nature, as at the meeting of two elec- 
 tric clouds. Her posture was so graceful that, 
 though he w^as making straight for the weir, 
 
AN ATTRACTION. 267 
 
 he dared not dip a scull. Just then one most 
 enticing dewberry caught her eye. He was 
 floating by unheeded, and saw that her hand 
 stretched low, and could not gather what it sought. 
 A stroke from his right brought him beside her. 
 The damsel glanced up dismayed, and her whole 
 shape trembled over the brink. Richard sprang 
 from his boat into the water. Pressing a hand 
 beneath her foot, which she had thrust against 
 the crumbling wet sides of the bank to save her- 
 self, he enabled her to recover her balance, and 
 gain safe earth, whither, emboldened by the in- 
 cident, touching her finger's tip, he followed her. 
 
268 
 
 CHAPTER XVIIL 
 
 PEBDINAND AND mHANDA. 
 
 He had landed on an Island of the still-vexed 
 Bermoothes. The world lay wrecked behind him: 
 Raynham hung in mists, remote, a phantom 
 to the vivid reality of this white hand which had 
 drawn him thither away thousands of leagues 
 in an eye- twinkle. Hark, how Ariel sung over- 
 head ! What splendour in the Heavens ! What 
 marvels of beauty about his enchanted head ! 
 And, you Wonder! Pair Flame! by whose light 
 
 the glories of being are now first seen 
 
 Radiant Miranda ! Prince Ferdinand is at your 
 feet. 
 
 Or is it Adam, his rib taken from his side in 
 sleep, and thus transformed, to make him behold 
 his Paradise, and lose it ? . . . 
 
 The youth looked on her with as glowing an 
 eye. It was the First Woman to him. 
 
FERDINAND AND MIRANDA. 269 
 
 And she — mankind was all Caliban to her, 
 saving this one princely youth. 
 
 So to each other said their changing eyes in 
 the moment they stood together ; he pale, and 
 she blushing- 
 She was indeed sweetly fair, and would have 
 been held fair among rival damsels. On a magic 
 shore, and to a youth educated by a System, 
 strung like an arrow drawn to the head, he, it 
 might be guessed, could fly fast and far with 
 her. The soft rose in her cheeks, the clearness of 
 her eyes, bore witness to the body's virtue ; and 
 health, and happy blood was in her bearing. 
 Had she stood before Sir Austin among rival 
 damsels, that Scientific Humanist, for the consum- 
 mation of his System, would have thrown her the 
 handkerchief for his son. The wide summer-hat 
 nodding over her forehead to her brows, seemed 
 to flow with the flowing heavy curls, and those 
 fire-threaded mellow curls, only half-curls, waves 
 of hair, call them, rippling at the ends, went like 
 a sunny red-veined torrent down her back almost 
 to her waist : a glorious vision to the youth, 
 who embraced it as a flower of beauty, and read 
 not a feature. There were curious features of 
 
270 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD EEVEREL. 
 
 colour in liei face for him to have read. Her 
 brows, thick and brownish against a soft skin 
 showing the action of the blood, met in the bend 
 of a bow, extending to the temples long and 
 level : you saw that she was fashioned to peruse 
 the sights of earth, and by the pliability of her 
 brows, that the wonderful creature used her fa- 
 culty, and was not going to be a statue to the 
 gazer. Under the dark thick brows an arch of 
 lashes shot out, giving a wealth of darkness to 
 the full frank blue eyes a mystery of meaning 
 — more than brain was ever meant to fathom : 
 richer henceforth than all mortal wisdom to 
 Prince Ferdinand. For when Nature turns ar- 
 tist, and produces contrasts of colour on a fair 
 face, where is the Sage, or what the Oracle, shall 
 match the depth of its lightest look ? 
 
 Prince Ferdinand was also fair. In his slim 
 boating-attire his figure looked heroic. His hair, 
 rising from the parting to the right of his fore- 
 head, in what his admiiing Lady Blandish called 
 his plume, fell away slanting silkily to the temples 
 across the nearly imperceptible upward curve of 
 his brows there — felt more than seen, so slight 
 it was — and gave to his profile a bold beauty, to 
 
FERDINAND AND MIRANDA. 271 
 
 wliich his bashful breathless air was a flattering 
 charm. An arrow drawn to the head, capable of 
 flying fast and far with her ! He leaned a little 
 forward to her, drinking her in with all his eyes, 
 and young Love has a thousand. Then truly the 
 System triumphed, just ere it was to fall; and 
 could Sir Austin have been content to draw the 
 arrow to the head, and let it fly, when it would 
 fly, he might have pointed to his son again, and 
 said to the world, " Match him ! " Such keen 
 bliss as the youth had in the sight of her, an in- 
 nocent youth alone has powers of soul in him to 
 experience. 
 
 /O Women!' says the Pilgrim's Scrip, in 
 one of its solitary outbursts, ' Women, who hke, 
 and will have for hero, a rake ! how soon are you 
 not to learn that you have taken bankrupts to 
 your bosoms, and that the putrescent gold that 
 attracted you, is the slime of the Lake of Sin.' 
 
 If these two were Perdinand and Miranda, Sir 
 Austin was not Prospero, and was not present, or 
 their fates might have been different. 
 
 So they stood a moment, changing eyes, and 
 
272 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 then Miranda spoke, and they came down to 
 earth, feehng no less in heaven. 
 
 She spoke to thank him for his aid. She used 
 quite common simple words ; and used them, no 
 doubt, to express a common simple meaning; 
 but to him she was uttering magic, casting spells, 
 and the effect they had on him was manifested 
 in the incoherence of his replies, which were too 
 foolish to be chronicled. 
 
 The couple were again mute. Suddenly Mi- 
 randa, with an exclamation of anguish, and in- 
 numerable lights and shadows playing over her 
 lovely face, clapped her hands, crying aloud, "My 
 book ! my book !" and ran to the bank. 
 
 Prince Ferdinand was at her side. " What 
 have you lost?" he said. 
 
 " My book ! my book ! " she answered, her long 
 dehcious curls swinging across her shoulders to 
 the stream. Then turning to him, divining his 
 rash intention, " Oh, no, no ! let me entreat you 
 not to," she said. " I do not so very much mind 
 losing it." And in her eagerness to restrain him, 
 she unconsciously laid her gentle hand upon his 
 arm, and took the force of motion out of him. 
 
 "Indeed I do not really care for the silly book," 
 
FERDINAND AND MIRANDA. 273 
 
 she continued, withdrawing her hand quickly, and 
 reddening. " Pray do not !" 
 
 The young gentleman had kicked off his shoes. 
 No sooner was the spell of contact broken, than 
 he jumped in. The water was still troubled and 
 discoloured by his introductory adventure, and, 
 though he ducked his head with the spirit of a 
 dabchick, the book was. missing. A -scrap of 
 paper floating from the bramble just above the 
 water, and looking as if fire had caught its edges 
 and it had flown from one adverse element to 
 the other, was all he could lay hold of, and he 
 returned to land disconsolately, to hear Miranda's 
 murmured mixing of thanks and pretty expostu- 
 lations. 
 
 " Let me try again," he said. 
 
 "No, indeed !" she replied, and used the awful 
 threat : " I will run away if you do," which effec- 
 tually restrained him. 
 
 Her eye fell on the fire-stained scrap of paper, 
 and brightened, as she cried, " There — there ! you 
 have what I want. It is that. I do not care for 
 the book. — No, please ! You are not to look at it. 
 Give it me." 
 
 Before her playfully-imperative injunction was 
 
 VOL. I. T 
 
274 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 fairly spoken, Richard had glanced at the do- 
 cument, and discovered a Griffin between Two 
 Wheatsheaves : his Crest, in silver : and below, 
 wonderment immense ! his own handwriting ! 
 remnant of his bmiit Offering ! a page of the 
 sacrificed Poems ! one Blossom preserved from 
 the deadly universal blight. 
 
 He handed it to her in silence. She took it, 
 and put it in her bosom. 
 
 Who would have said, have thought, that, 
 where all else perished, Odes, fluttering bits of 
 broad-winged Epic, Idyls, Lines, Stanzas, this 
 one Sonnet to the Stars should be miraculously 
 reserved for such a starry fate ! passing beati- 
 tude ! 
 
 As they walked silently across the meadow, 
 Richard strove to remember the hour, and the 
 mood of mind, in which he had composed the 
 notable production. The stars were invoked, as 
 seeing, and foreseeing, all, to tell him where then 
 his love reclined, and so forth ; Hesper was com- 
 placent enough to do so, and described her in a 
 couplet : 
 
 ' Througli sunset's amber see me sliining fair, 
 As her blue eyes shine through her golden hair.' 
 
FERDINAND AND MIRANDA. 275 
 
 And surely no words could be more prophetic. 
 Here were two blue eyes, and golden hair ; and 
 by some strange chance, that appeared like the 
 working of a divine finger, she had become the 
 possessor of the prophecy, she that was to fulfil 
 it ! The youth was too charged with emotion to 
 speak. Doubtless the damsel had less to think 
 of, or had some trifling burden on her conscience, 
 for she seemed to grow embarrassed. At last she 
 threw up her chin to look at her companion un- 
 der the nodding brim of her hat (and the action 
 gave her a charmingly freakish air), crying, '•' But 
 where are you going to ? You are wet through. 
 Let me thank you again, and pray leave me, and 
 go home, and change instantly." 
 
 "Wet?" replied the Magnetic muser, with a 
 voice of tender interest, " not more than one foot, 
 I hope ? I will leave you while you dry your 
 stocking in the sun." 
 
 At this she could not withhold a shy and lovely 
 laugh. 
 
 " Not I, but you. You know you saved me, 
 and would try to get that silly book for me, and 
 you are dripping wet. Are you not very un- 
 comfortable ? " 
 
276 THE ORDEAL OF TIICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 In all sincerity lie assured her that he was not. 
 
 "And you really do not feel that you are 
 wet?" 
 
 He really did not : and it was a fact that he 
 spoke truth. 
 
 She pursed her sweet dewberry mouth in the 
 most comical way, and her blue eyes lightened 
 laughter out of the half-closed lids. 
 
 " I cannot help it," she said, her mouth open- 
 ing, and sounding harmonious bells of laughter 
 in his ears. " Pardon me, won't you? " 
 
 His face took the same soft smiling curves in 
 admiration of her. 
 
 " Not to feel that you have been in the water, 
 the very moment after 1" she musically inter- 
 jected, seeing she was excused. 
 
 " It 's true," he said ; and his own gravity 
 then touched him to join a duet with her, which 
 made them no longer feel strangers, and did the 
 work of a month of intimacy. Better than senti- 
 ment Laughter opens the breast to Love ; opens 
 the whole breast to his full quiver, instead of a 
 corner here and there for a solitary arrow. Hail 
 the occasion propitious, ye British young ! and 
 laugh, and treat Love as an honest God, and 
 
FERDINAND AND MIRANDA. 277 
 
 dabble not with the spiritual rouge. These two 
 laughed, and the souls of each cried out to other, 
 
 atisi; atisi/ 
 
 They laughed and forgot the cause of their 
 laughter, and the sun dried his hght river- cloth- 
 ing, and they strolled towards the blackbird's 
 copse, and stood near a stile, in sight of the foam 
 of the weir, and the many-coloured rings of eddies 
 streaming forth from it. 
 
 Richard's boat, meanwhile, had contrived to 
 shoot the weir, and was swinging, bottom up- 
 wards, broadside with the current down the rapid 
 backwater. 
 
 " Will you let it go ? " said the damsel, eyeing 
 it curiously. 
 
 " Yes," he replied, and low, as if he spoke in 
 the core of his thought : " What do I care for it 
 now.f^ 
 
 His old life was whirled away with it, dead, 
 drowned. His new life was with her, alive, di- 
 vine. 
 
 She flapped low the brim of her hat. "You 
 must really not come any further," she softly said. 
 
 " And will you go, and not tell me who you 
 are ? " he asked, growing bold as the fears of 
 
278 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 losing her came across him : " And will you not 
 tell me before you go/' his face burned, *' how 
 you came by that — that paper?" 
 
 She chose to select the easier question to reply 
 to : " You ought to know me ; we have been 
 introduced." Sweet was her winning off-hand 
 ajffability. 
 
 "Then who, in Heaven's name, are you? Tell 
 me ! I never could have forgotten you." 
 
 " You have, I think," she said demurely. 
 
 " Impossible that we could ever have met, and 
 I forget you ! " 
 
 She looked up to him quickly. 
 
 " Do you remember Belthorpe ?" 
 
 " Belthorpe ! Belthorpe !" quoth Richard, as if 
 he had to touch his brain to recollect there was 
 such a place. " Do you mean old Blaize's farm?" 
 
 '' Then I am old Blaize's niece." She tripped 
 him a soft curtsey. 
 
 The Magnetized youth gazed at her. By what 
 magic was it that this divine sweet creature 
 could be allied with that old churl ! 
 
 " Then what — what is your name ? " said his 
 mouth, while his eyes added, " O wonderful crea- 
 ture ! How came you to enrich the earth?" 
 
FERDINAND AND MIRANDA. 279 
 
 " Have you forgot the Desboroughs of Dorset, 
 too?" she peered at him archly from a side bend 
 of the flapping brim. 
 
 '' The Desboroughs of Dorset ? " A hght 
 broke in on him. "And have you grown to 
 this ? That Httle girl I saw there ! " 
 
 He drew close to her to read the nearest fea- 
 tures of the vision. She could no more laugh off 
 the piercing fervour of his eyes. Her volubility 
 fluttered under his deeply wistful look, and now 
 neither voice was high, and they were mutually 
 constrained. 
 
 " You see," she murmured, " we are old ac- 
 quaintances." 
 
 Richard, with his eyes still intently fixed on 
 her, returned : " You are very beautiful ! " 
 
 The words shpped out. Perfect simplicity is un- 
 consciously audacious. Her overpowering beauty 
 struck his heart, and like an instrument that is 
 touched and answers to the touch, he spoke. 
 
 Miss Desborough made an efibrt to trifle with 
 this terrible directness : but his eyes would not 
 be gainsaid, and checked her lips. She turned 
 away from them, her bosom a little rebellious. 
 Praise so passionately spoken, and by one who 
 
280 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 has been a damsel's first dream, dreamed of 
 nightly many long nights, and clothed in the 
 virgin silver of her thoughts in bud, praise from 
 him is coin the heart cannot reject, if it would. 
 She quickened her steps to the stile. 
 
 " I have offended you ! " said a mortally 
 wounded voice across her shoulder. 
 
 That he should think so were too dreadful. 
 
 " Oh, no, no ! you would never offend me." 
 She gave him her whole sweet face. 
 
 " Then why — why do you leave me?" 
 
 " Because," she hesitated, " I must go." 
 
 " No. You must not go. Why must you go ? 
 Do not go." 
 
 " Indeed, I must," she said, pulling at the ob- 
 noxious broad brim of her hat; and^ interpret- 
 ing a pause he made for his assent to her sen- 
 sible resolve, shyly looking at him, she held her 
 hand out, and said, " Good-bye," as if it were a 
 natural thing to say. 
 
 The hand was pure white : white and fragrant 
 as the frosted blossom of a May-night. It was 
 the hand whose shadow, cast before, he had last 
 night bent his head reverentially above, and 
 kissed — resigning himself thereupon over to exe- 
 
FERDINAND AND MIRANDA. 281 
 
 cution for payment of the penalty of sucli daring : 
 by such bliss well rewarded. 
 
 He took the hand, and held it ; gazing between 
 her eyes. 
 
 " Good bye," she said again, as frankly as she 
 could, and at the same time slightly compress- 
 ing her fingers on his in token of adieu. It was 
 a signal for his to close firmly upon hers. 
 
 " You will not go ? " 
 
 " Pray let me," she pleaded, her sweet brows 
 suing in wrinkles. 
 
 "You will not go?" Mechanically he drew 
 the white hand nearer his thumping heart. 
 
 " I must," she faltered piteously. 
 
 "You will not go?" 
 
 " Oh yes ! yes !" 
 
 " Tell me. Do you wish to go ?" 
 
 The question was subtle. A moment or two 
 she did not answer, and then forswore herself, 
 and said. Yes. 
 
 " Do you— do you wish to go?" He looked 
 with quivering eyelids under hers. 
 
 A fainter, Yes, responded to his passionate re- 
 petition. 
 
 " You wish — wish to leave me?" His breath 
 went with the words. 
 
282 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD EEVEREL. 
 
 " Indeed I must." 
 
 Her hand became a closer prisoner. 
 
 All at once an alarming delicious shudder went 
 through her frame. From him to her it coursed, 
 and back from her to him. Forward and back 
 Love's electric messenger rushed from heart to 
 heart, knocking at each, till it surged tumultu- 
 ously against the bars of its prison, crying out 
 for its mate. They stood trembling in unison, 
 a lovely couple under these fair Heavens of the 
 morning. 
 
 When he could get his voice, it was, " Will 
 you go ? " 
 
 But she had none to reply with, and could only 
 mutely bend upward her gentle wrist. 
 
 " Then, farewell," he said, and dropping his 
 Hps to the soft fair hand, kissed it, and hung his 
 head, swinging away from her, ready for death. 
 
 Strange, that now she was released she should 
 linger by him. Strange, that his audacity, in- 
 stead of the executioner, brought blushes and 
 timid tenderness to his side, and the sweet words, 
 " You are not angry with me ?" 
 
 " With you, O Beloved ! " cried his soul. " And 
 you forgive me. Fair Charity ! " 
 
 She repeated her words in deeper sweetness to 
 
FERDINAND AND MIRANDA. 283 
 
 his bewildered look ; and he, inexperienced, pos- 
 sessed by her, almost lifeless with the divine new 
 emotions she had reahzed in him, could only sigh, 
 and gaze at her wonderingly. 
 
 " I think it was rude of me to go without 
 thanking you again," she said, and again prof- 
 fered her hand. 
 
 The sweet Heaven-bird shivered out his song 
 above him. The gracious glory of Heaven fell 
 upon his soul. He touched her hand, not mov- 
 ing his eyes from her, nor speaking, and she, 
 with a soft word of farewell, passed across the 
 style, and up the pathway through the dewy 
 shades of the copse, and out of the axch of the 
 light, away from his eyes. 
 
 And away with her went the wild enchant- 
 ment : he looked on barren air. But it was no 
 more the world of yesterday. The marvellous 
 splendours had sown seeds in him, ready to 
 spring up and bloom at her gaze ; and in his 
 bosom now the vivid conjuration of her tones, 
 her face, her shape, makes them leap and illu- 
 mine him like fitful summer lightnings— ghosts 
 of the vanished Sun. 
 
284 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 There was nothing to tell him that he had 
 been making love and declaring it with extra- 
 ordinary rapidity : nor did he know it. Soft- 
 flushed cheeks ! sweet mouth ! strange sweet 
 brows ! eyes of softest fire ! how could his ripe 
 eyes see you, and not plead to keep you ? Nay, 
 how could he let you go ? And he seriously asks 
 himself that question. 
 
 Tomorrow this spot will have a memory — the 
 river, and the meadow, and the white, faUing 
 weir : his heart will build a temple here ; and 
 the skylark will be its high-priest, and the old 
 blackbird its glossy-gowned chorister, and there 
 will be a sacred repast of dewberries. Today 
 the grass is grass : his heart is chased by phan- 
 toms, and finds rest nowhere. Only when the 
 most tender freshness of his flower comes across 
 him, does he taste a moment's calm ; and no 
 sooner does it come than it gives place to keen 
 pangs of fear that she may not be his for ever. 
 
 Ere long he learns that her name is Lucy. 
 Ere long he meets Ralph, and discovers that in 
 a day he has distanced him by a sphere. Ere 
 long, he, and Ralph, and the Curate of Lobourne, 
 join in their walks, and raise classical discussions 
 
FERDINAND AND MIRANDA. 285 
 
 on ladies' hair, fingering a thousand deHcious 
 locks, from those of Cleopatra to the Borgia's. 
 " Fair ! fair ! all of them fair ! " sighs the me- 
 lancholy Curate, "as are those women formed 
 for our perdition ! I think we have in this coun- 
 try what will match the Italian, or the Greek." 
 His mind flutters to Mrs. Doria : Richard blushes 
 before the vision of Lucy : and Ralph, whose 
 heroine's hair is a dark luxuriance, dissents, and 
 claims a noble share in the slaughter of men for 
 dark-haired Wonders. They have no mutual con- 
 fidences, but they are singularly kind to each 
 other, these three children of instinct. 
 
286 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 UNMASKING OE MASTER RIPTON THOMPSON. 
 
 Lady Blandish, and others who professed an 
 interest in the fortunes and future of the sys- 
 tematized youth, had occasionally mentioned 
 names of families whose alliance, according to 
 apparent calculations, would not degrade his 
 blood ; and over these names, secretly preserved 
 on an open leaf of the Note-Book, Sir Austin, 
 as he neared the Metropolis, distantly dropped 
 his eye. There were names historic, and names 
 mushroomic; names that the Conqueror might 
 have called in his muster-roll ; names that had 
 been, clearly, tossed into the upper stratum of 
 civihzed life by a mill-wheel, or a merchant-stool. 
 Against them the Baronet had written M., or 
 Po., or Pr. : signifying. Money, Position, Prin- 
 ciples : favouring the latter with special brackets. 
 
UNMASKING OF MASTER RIPTON THOMPSON. 287 
 
 The wisdom of a worldly man, which he could 
 now^ and then adopt, determined him, before he 
 commenced his romid of visits, to consult and 
 sound his Solicitor and his Physician there- 
 anent : Lawyers and Doctors being the rats who 
 know best the merits of a House, and on w^hat 
 sort of foundation it is standing. 
 
 Sir Austin entered the great City with a sad 
 mind. The memory of his misfortune came upon 
 him vividly, as if no years had intervened, and 
 it were but yesterday that he found the letter 
 telling him that he had no wife, and his son 
 no mother. He wandered on foot through the 
 streets the first night of his arrival, looking 
 strangely at the shops, and shows, and bustle of 
 the World from which he had divorced himself; 
 feeling as destitute as the poorest vagrant. He 
 had almost forgotten how to find his way about, 
 and came across his old mansion in his efforts 
 to regain his hotel. The windows were alight ; 
 signs of merry life within. He stared at it from 
 the shadow of the opposite side. It seemed to 
 him he was a ghost gazing upon his living past. 
 And then the Phantom which had stood there 
 mocking while he felt as other men — the Phan- 
 
288 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 torn now flesh and blood Reality seized and con- 
 vulsed his heart, and filled its unforgiving cre- 
 vices with bitter ironic venom. He remembered 
 by the time reflection returned to him that it 
 was Algernon, who had the house at his disposal, 
 probably giving a card-party, or something of the 
 sort. In the morning, too, he remembered that 
 he had divorced the World to wed a System, and 
 must be faithful to that exacting Spouse, who, 
 now alone of things on earth, could fortify and 
 recompense him. 
 
 Mr. Thompson received his client with the dig- 
 nity and emotion due to such a rent-roll and the 
 unexpectedness of the honour. He was a thin 
 stately man of Law, garbed as one who gave 
 audience to acred Bishops, and carrying on his 
 countenance the stamp of paternity to the parch- 
 ment-skins, and of a Virtuous attachment to 
 port- wine sufficient to increase his respectability 
 in the eyes of moral Britain. After congratulating 
 Sir Austin on the fortunate issue of two or three 
 suits, and being assured that the Baronet's bu- 
 siness in town had no concern therewith, Mr. 
 Thompson ventured to hope that the young heir 
 was all his father could desire him to be, and 
 
UNMASKING OF MASTER RIPTON THOMPSON. 289 
 
 heard with satisfaction that he was a pattern to 
 the youth of the Age. 
 
 "A difficult time of Hfe, Sir Austin !" said the 
 old lawyer, shaking his head. " We must keep 
 our eyes on them — keep awake ! The mischief 
 is done in a minute." 
 
 " We must take care to have seen where we 
 planted, and that the root was sound, or the mis- 
 chief will do itself in spife of, or under the very 
 spectacles of, Supervision," said the Baronet. 
 
 His legal adviser murmured " Exactly," as if 
 that were his own idea ; adding, " It is my plan 
 with Ripton, who has had the honour of an in- 
 troduction to you, and a very pleasant time he 
 spent with my young friend, whom he does not 
 forget. Ripton follows the Law. He is articled 
 to me, and will, I trust, succeed me worthily in 
 your confidence. I bring him into town in the 
 morning : I take him back at night. I think I 
 may say that I am quite content with him." 
 
 " Do you think," said Sir Austin, fixing his 
 brows, " that you can trace every act of his to its 
 motive?" 
 
 The old lawyer bent forward and humbly re- 
 quested that this might be repeated. 
 
 VOL. I. TJ 
 
290 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 " Do you/ Sir Austin held the same search- 
 ing expression, " do you estabHsh yourself in a 
 radiating centre of intuition — do you base your 
 watchfulness on so thorough an acquaintance 
 with his character — so perfect a knowledge of 
 the instrument, that all its movements — even the 
 eccentric ones — are anticipated by you, and pro- 
 vided for?" 
 
 The explanation was' a little too long for the 
 old lawyer to entreat another repetition. Wink- 
 ing with the painful deprecation of a deaf man, 
 Mr. Thompson smiled urbanely, coughed con- 
 ciliatingly, and said he was afraid he could not 
 affirm that much, though he was happily enabled 
 to say that Ripton had borne an extremely good 
 character at school. 
 
 " I find," Sir Austin remarked, as sardonically 
 he relaxed his inspecting pose and mien, " there 
 are fathers who are content to be simply obeyed. 
 Now I require not only that my son should obey, 
 I would have him guiltless of the impulse to 
 gainsay my wishes; feeling me in him stronger 
 than his undeveloped nature, up to a certain 
 period, where my responsibility ends and his 
 commences. Man is a self-acting machine. He 
 
UNMASKING OF MASTER UIPTON THOMPSON. 291 
 
 cannot cease to be a machine ; but, though self- 
 acting, he may lose the powers of self-guidance, 
 and in a wrong course his very vitalities hurry 
 him to perdition. Young, he is an organism 
 ripening to the set mechanic diurnal round, and 
 while so he needs all the Angels to hold w^atch 
 over him that he grow straight, and healthy, and 
 fit for what machinal duties he may have to per- 
 form . . r 
 
 Mr. Thompson agitated his eyebrows dread- 
 fully. He was utterly lost. He respected Sir 
 Austin's estates too much to believe for a mo- 
 ment he was listening to downright folly. Yet 
 how otherwise explain the fact of his excellent 
 client being incomprehensible to him? For a 
 middle-aged gentleman, and one who has been 
 in the habit of advising and managing, will 
 rarely have a notion of accusing his understand- 
 ing, and Mr. Thompson had not the slightest 
 notion of accusing his. But the Baronet's con- 
 descension in coming thus to him, and speaking 
 on the subject nearest his heart, might well af- 
 fect him, and he quickly settled the case in favour 
 of both parties, pronouncing mentally that his 
 honoured Client had a meaning, and so deep it 
 
292 THE ORDEAL OF RICHAED FEVEREL. 
 
 was, SO subtle, that no wonder he experienced a 
 difficulty in giving it fitly significant words. 
 
 Sir Austin elaborated his theory of the Or- 
 ganism and the Mechanism, for his lawyer's edi- 
 fication. At a recurrence of the word, healthy, 
 Mr. Thompson caught him up : 
 
 " I apprehend you ! Oh, I agree with you. Sir 
 Austin ! Entirely ! Allow me to ring for my son 
 Rip ton. I think, if you condescend to examine 
 him, you will say that regular habits, and a diet 
 of nothing but law-reading — for other forms of 
 literature I strictly interdict — have made him all 
 that you instance." 
 
 Mr. Thompson's hand was on the bell. Sir 
 Austin arrested him. 
 
 " Permit me to see the lad at his occupation," 
 said he. 
 
 Our old friend Ripton sat in a room apart 
 with the confidential clerk, Mr. Beazley, a veteran 
 of Law, now little better than a Document, look- 
 ing already signed and sealed, and shortly to be 
 delivered, who enjoined nothing from his pupil 
 and companion save absolute silence, and sounded 
 his praises to his father at the close of days when 
 it had been rigidly observed — not caring, or con- 
 
UNMASKING OF MASTER RIPTON THOMPSON. 293 
 
 sidering, the finished dry old Document that he 
 was, under what kind of spell a turbulent com- 
 monplace youth could be charmed into stillness 
 six hours a day. Ripton was supposed to be de- 
 voted to the study of Blackstone. A tome of the 
 classic legal Commentator lay extended outside 
 his desk ; under the partially lifted lid of which 
 nestled the assiduous student's head — Law being 
 thus brought into direct contact with his brain- 
 pan. The office-door opened, and he heard not : 
 his name was called, and he remained equally 
 moveless. His method of taking in Blackstone 
 seemed absorbing as it was novel. 
 
 " Comparing notes, I dare say," whispered 
 Mr. Thompson to Sir Austin. " I call that 
 study!" 
 
 The Confidential Clerk rose, and bowed ob- 
 sequious senility. 
 
 "Is it like this every day, Beazley?" Mr. 
 Thompson asked with parental pride. 
 
 " Ahem!" the old Clerk replied, " He is like 
 this every day, Sir. I could not ask more of a 
 mouse." 
 
 Sir Austin stepped forward to the desk. His 
 proximity roused one of Ripton' s senses, which 
 
294 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 blew a call to the others. Down went the lid of 
 the desk. Dismay, and the ardours of Study, 
 flashed together in Ripton's face. He slouched 
 from his perch with the air of one who means 
 rather to defend his position than welcome a 
 superior, the right hand in his waistcoat pocket 
 fumbling a key, the left catching at his vacant 
 stool. 
 
 Sir Austin put two fingers on the youth's 
 shoulder, and said, leaning his head a little on 
 one side, in a way habitual to him, "I am glad 
 to find my son's old comrade thus profitably oc- 
 cupied. I know what Study is myself. But be- 
 w^are of prosecuting it too excitedly ! Come ! you 
 must not be offended at our interruption — you 
 will soon take up the thread again. Besides, you 
 know, you must get accustomed to the visits of 
 your Client." 
 
 So condescending and kindly did this speech 
 sound to Mr. Thompson, that seeing Ripton still 
 preserve his appearance of disorder and sneaking 
 defiance, he thought fit to nod and frown at the 
 youth, and desired him to inform the Baronet 
 what particular part of Blackstone he was ab- 
 sorbed in mastering at that moment. 
 
UNMASKING OF MASTER UIPTON THOMPSON. 295 
 
 Ripton hesitated an instant, and blundered out, 
 with dubious articulation, " The Law of Gravel- 
 kind." ' 
 
 "What Law?" said Sir Austin, perplexed. 
 
 " Gravelkind," again rumbled Ripton's voice. 
 
 Sir Austin turned to Mr. Thompson for an ex- 
 planation. The old lawyer was shaking his law- 
 box. 
 
 " Singular," he exclaimed. " He will make 
 that mistake !— What Law, Sir?" 
 
 Ripton read his error in the sternly painful ex- 
 pression of his father's face, and corrected him- 
 self: " Gavelkind, Sir." 
 
 "Ah!" said Mr. Thompson, with a sigh of 
 relief. " Gravelkind, indeed ! Gavelkind ! — An 
 
 old Kentish " he was going to expound, but 
 
 Sir Austin assured him he knew it, and a very 
 absurd Law it was : adding, " I should like to 
 look at your son's notes, or remarks on the ju- 
 diciousness of that family arrangement, if he has 
 any." 
 
 " You were making notes, or referring to them, 
 as we entered," said Mr. Thompson to the suck- 
 ing lawyer ; " a very good plan, which I have al- 
 ways enjoined to you. Were you not?" 
 
296 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 Ripton stammered that he was afraid he had 
 not any Notes to show — worth seeing. 
 
 " What were you doing, then, Sir?" 
 
 " Making notes/' muttered Ripton, looking in- 
 carnate subterfuge. 
 
 ^^ Exhibit!" 
 
 Ripton glanced at his desk, and then at his 
 father : at Sir Austin, and at the confidential 
 clerk. He took out his key. It would not fit 
 the hole. 
 
 " Exhibit !" was peremptorily called again. 
 
 In his praiseworthy efforts to accommodate 
 the keyhole, Ripton discovered that the desk was 
 already unlocked. Mr. Thompson marched to it, 
 and held the lid aloft. A book was lying open 
 within, which Ripton immediately hustled among 
 a mass of papers and tossed into a dark corner : 
 not before the glimpse of a coloured frontispiece 
 was caught by Sir Austin's eye. 
 
 The Baronet smiled, and said, " You study 
 Heraldry, too ? Are you fond of the Science ?" 
 
 Ripton replied that he was very fond of it — 
 extremely attached ; and threw a further pile of 
 papers into the dark corner. 
 
 The Notes had been less conspicuously placed, 
 
UNMASKING OF MASTER RIPTON THOMPSON. 297 
 
 and the search for them was tedious and vain. 
 Papers, not legal, or the fruits of study, were 
 found that made Mr. Thompson more intimate 
 with the condition of his son's exchequer: no- 
 thing in the shape of a Remark on the Law of 
 Gavelkind. 
 
 Mr. Thompson suggested to his son that they 
 might be among those scraps he had thrown 
 carelessly into the dark corner. Ripton, though 
 he consented to inspect them, was positive they 
 were not there. 
 
 "What have we here?" said Mr. Thompson, 
 seizing a neatly folded paper addressed to the 
 Editor of a Law publication, as Ripton brought 
 them forth, one by one. Forthwith Mr. Thomp- 
 son fixed his spectacles and read aloud : 
 
 ' To the Editor of the Jurist. 
 
 'Sir, 
 
 ' In your recent of observations on the great 
 case of Crim — ' 
 
 Mr. Thompson hem'd ! and stopped short like 
 a man who comes unexpectedly upon a snake in 
 his path. Mr. Beazley's feet shuffled. Sir Austin 
 changed the position of an arm. 
 
295 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 " It 's on the other side, I think," gasped 
 Ripton. 
 
 Mr. Thompson confidently turned over, and in- 
 toned with emphasis. 
 
 * To Absalom, the son of David, the little Jew 
 usurer of Bond Court, Whitecross Gutters, for his 
 introduction to Venus, I.O.U. Five Pounds, when 
 I can pay. 
 
 ' Signed : Ripton Thompson.' 
 
 Underneath this fictitious legal instrument was 
 discreetly appended : 
 
 * (Mem. Document not binding.)' 
 
 There was a pause : an awful under-breath of 
 sanctified wonderment and reproach passed round 
 the office. Sir Austin assumed an attitude. Mr. 
 Thompson shed a glance of severity on his con- 
 fidential clerk, who parried by throwing up his 
 hands. 
 
 Ripton, now fairly bewildered, stufiPed another 
 paper under his father's nose, hoping the out- 
 side perhaps would satisfy him : it was marked 
 ' Legal Considerations.' Mr. Thompson had no 
 idea of sparing or shielding his son. In fact, like 
 
UNMASKING OF MASTER RIPTON THOMPSON. 299 
 
 many men whose self-love is wounded by their 
 offspring, he felt vindictive, and was ready to sa- 
 crifice him up to a certain point, for the good of 
 both. He therefore opened the paper, expecting 
 something worse than what he had hitherto seen, 
 despite its formal heading, and he was not dis- 
 appointed. 
 
 The 'Legal Considerations' related to the Case 
 regarding which Ripton had conceived it impera- 
 tive upon him to address a letter to the Editor 
 of the * Jurist,' and was indeed a great case, and 
 an ancient; revived apparently for the special 
 purpose of displaying the forensic abilities of the 
 Junior Counsel for the Plaintiff, Mr. Ripton 
 Thompson, whose assistance the Attorney- Ge- 
 neral, in his opening statement, congratulated 
 himself on securing ; a rather unusual thing, due 
 probably to the eminence and renown of that 
 youthful gentleman at the Bar of his country. 
 So much was seen from the Copy of a Report 
 purporting to be extracted from a Newspaper, 
 and prefixed to the Junior Counsel's Remarks, 
 or Legal Considerations, on the Conduct of the 
 Case, the admissibility and non-admissibility of 
 certain Evidence, and the ultimate Decision of 
 the Judges. 
 
300 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 Mr. Thompson, Senior, lifted the paper high, 
 with the spirit of one prepared to do execution 
 on the criminal, and in the voice of a town-crier, 
 varied by a bitter accentuation and satiric sing- 
 song tone, deliberately read : 
 
 ' Vulcan v. Mars. 
 
 ' The Attorney- General, assisted by Mr. Rip- 
 ton Thompson, appeared on behalf of the Plain- 
 tiflP. Mr. Serjeant Cupid, Q.C., and Mr. Capital 
 Opportunity, for the Defendant.' 
 
 *'0h!" snapped Mr. Thompson, Senior, peer- 
 ing venom at the unfortunate Ripton over his 
 spectacles, " your Notes are on that issue. Sir ! 
 Thus you employ your time. Sir !" 
 
 With another side-shot at the Confidential 
 Clerk, who retired immediately behind a strong 
 entrenchment of shrugs, Mr. Thompson continued 
 to read : 
 
 ' This Case is too well known to require more 
 than a partial summary of particulars . . .' 
 
 " Ahem ! we will skip the particulars, how- 
 ever partial," said Mr. Thompson. " Ah? — what 
 do you meau here. Sir, by the 'chief of the 
 Olympic games,' which you eulogize?" 
 
UNMASKING OF MASTER RIPTON THOMPSON. 301 
 
 " Not I/' answered Rip ton, from under his 
 head. " It's Mr. Cap— Mr. Opp— It's the 
 Defendant's Counsel. I'm against." 
 
 Outraged by hearing the culprit speak at all, 
 his father broke in, " How dare you talk so un- 
 blushingly, Sir!" 
 
 Ripton dropped his head a degree lower. 
 
 " Enough ! " cried Mr. Thompson, appealing 
 mutely to all present, and elongating his syllables 
 with a vehement sneer ; " I think we may be ex- 
 cused your Legal Considerations on such a Case. 
 This is how you employ your Law-studies, Sir ! 
 You put them to this pm^pose ! Mr. Beazley ! 
 you will henceforward sit alone. I must have 
 this young man under my own eye. Sir Austin ! 
 permit me to apologize to you for subjecting 
 you to a scene so disagreeable. It was a father's 
 duty not to spare him !" 
 
 Mr. Thompson wiped his forehead, as Brutus 
 might have done after passing judgment on the 
 scion of his house. 
 
 " These papers," he went on, fluttering Rip- 
 ton's precious hicubrations in a wavering judicial 
 hand, " I shall retain. The day will come when 
 he will regard them with shame. And it shall 
 
302 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL. 
 
 be liis penance, his punishment, to do so ! 
 Stop ! " he cried, as Uipton was noiselessly shut- 
 ting his desk, " have you more of them. Sir ! of 
 a similar description ? Rout them out ! Let us 
 know you at your worst. What have you there 
 — in that corner?" 
 
 Ripton was understood to say, he devoted that 
 corner to old briefs on important cases. 
 
 Mr. Thompson thrust his trembling fingers 
 among the old briefs, and turned over the volume 
 Sir Austin had observed, but without much re- 
 marking it, for his suspicions had not risen to 
 print. 
 
 " A Manual of Heraldry ? " the Baronet po- 
 litely inquired, before it could well escape. 
 
 " I like it very much/' says Ripton, clutching 
 the book in dreadful torment. 
 
 " Allow me to see that you have our Arms and 
 Crest correct." The Baronet proffered a hand for 
 the book. 
 
 " A Griffin between two Wheatsheaves," cries 
 Ripton, still clutching it nervously. 
 
 Mr. Thompson, without any notion of what he 
 was doing, drew the book from Bipton's hold ; 
 whereupon the two Seniors laid their grey heads 
 
UNMASKING OF MASTER RIPTON THOMPSON. 303 
 
 together over the title-page. It set forth in at- 
 tractive characters beside a coloured frontispiece, 
 which embodied the promise displayed there, the 
 entrancing Adventures of Miss Random, a strange 
 young lady. 
 
 Had there been a Black Hole within the area 
 of those Law regions to consign Ripton to there 
 and then, or an Iron Rod handy to mortify his 
 his sinful flesh, Mr. Thompson would have used 
 them. As it was, he contented himself by looking 
 Black Holes and Iron Rods at the detected youth, 
 who sat on his perch insensible to what might 
 happen next, collapsed. 
 
 Mr. Thompson cast the wicked creature down 
 with a " Pah 1" He, however, took her up again, 
 and strode away with her. Sir Austin gave Rip- 
 ton a forefinger, and kindly touched his head, 
 saying, "Good bye, boy! at some future date 
 Richard will be happy to see you at Raynham." 
 
 Undoubtedly this was a great triumph to the 
 System ! 
 
 END OF VOLUME I. 
 
PBINTEB BY 
 
 JOHN EDTTARD TATLOE, LITTLE QUEEN STBEET, 
 
 LINCOLN'S INN FIELDS. 
 
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