L I B RARY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 UNIVLRSITY 
 
 or ILLINOIS 
 
 G44Jb 
 
 1892. 
 
BOEN IN EXILE 
 
 Vol. I 
 
BORN IN EXILE 
 
 a movci 
 
 BY 
 
 GEORGE GISSING 
 
 author of 
 'new grub street,' 'denzil quarrier,' etc. 
 
 ly THBEE VOLUMES 
 Vol. I 
 
 LONDON AND EDINBURGH 
 
 ADAM AND CHARLES BLACK 
 
 1892 
 
MORRISON AND GIBB, PRINTERS, EDINBURGH. 
 
0( 
 
 ^"^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 8^t 
 
 r 
 
 PART THE FIRST 
 
 ^ 
 
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Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2010 with funding from 
 
 University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/borninexilenovel01giss 
 
BOEN IN EXILE 
 
 PAKT THE FIRST 
 
 The summer day in 1874 which closed the annual 
 session of Whitelaw College was marked by a special 
 ceremony, preceding the wonted distribution of academic 
 rewards. At eleven in the morning (just as a heavy 
 shower fell from the smoke -canopy above the roaring 
 streets) the municipal authorities, educational dignitaries, 
 and prominent burgesses of Ivingsmill assembled on 
 an open space before the college to unveil a statue 
 of Sir Job Whitelaw. The honoured baronet had 
 been six months dead. Living, he opposed the desire 
 of his fellow -citizens to exhibit even on canvas his 
 gnarled features and bald crown ; but when his modesty 
 
 7 
 
8 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 ceased to have a voice in the matter, no time was lost in 
 raising a memorial of the great manufacturer, the self- 
 made millionaire, the borough member in three Parlia- 
 ments, the enlightened and benevolent founder of an 
 institute which had conferred humane distinction on the 
 money -making Midland town. Beneath such a sky, 
 orations were necessarily curtailed ; but Sir Job had 
 always been impatient of much talk. An interval of two 
 or three hours dispersed the rain-clouds and bestowed 
 such grace of sunshine as Kingsmill might at this season 
 temperately desire ; then, whilst the marble figure was 
 getting dried, — with soot-stains which already foretold 
 its nigritude of a year hence, — again streamed towards 
 the college a varied multitude, official, parental, pupillary. 
 The students had nothing distinctive in their garb, but here 
 and there flitted the cap and gown of Professor or lecturer, 
 signal for doffnig of beavers along the line of its progress. 
 Among the more deliberate of the throng was a slender, 
 upright, ruddy-cheeked gentleman of middle age, ac- 
 companied by his wife and a daughter of sixteen. On 
 alighting from a carriage, they first of all directed their 
 steps towards the statue, conversing together with pleasant 
 animation. The father (Martin Warricombe, Esq. of 
 Thornhaw^, a small estate some five miles from Kingsmill,) 
 
BORN IN EXILE 9 
 
 had a countenance suggestive of engaging qualities — genial 
 humour, mildness, a turn for meditation, perhaps for 
 study. His attire was informal, as if he disliked aban- 
 doning the freedom of the country even when summoned to 
 urban ceremonies. He wore a grey felt hat, and a light 
 jacket which displayed the straightness of his shoulders. 
 Mrs. Warricombe and her daughter were more fashionably 
 equipped, with taste which proclaimed their social stand- 
 ing. Save her fresh yet delicate complexion the lady 
 had no particular personal charm. Of the young girl it 
 could only be said that she exhibited a graceful immaturity, 
 with perchance a little more earnestness than is common 
 at her age; her voice, even when she spoke gaily, was 
 seldom audible save by the person addressed. 
 
 Coming to a pause before Sir Job, Mr. Warricombe put 
 on a pair of eyeglasses which had dangled against his 
 waistcoat, and began to scrutinise carefully the sculptured 
 lineaments. He was addressing certain critical remarks 
 to his companions when an interruption appeared in the 
 form of a young man whose first words announced his 
 relation to the group. 
 
 ' I say, you're very late ! There'll be no getting a 
 decent seat, if you don't mind. Leave Sir Job till 
 afterwards.' 
 
10 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 *Tbe statue somehow disappoints me,' observed his 
 father, placidly. 
 
 ' Oh, it isn't bad, I think,' returned the youth, in a voice 
 not unlike his fatlier's, save for a note of excessive self- 
 confidence. He looked about eighteen ; his comely 
 countenance, with its air of robust health and habitual 
 exhilaration, told of a boyhood passed amid free and joy- 
 ous circumstances. It was the face of a youn^ Endish 
 plutocrat, with more of intellect than such visages are 
 wont to betray; the native vigour of his temperament 
 had probably assimilated something of the modern spirit. 
 * I'm glad,' he continued, * that they haven't stuck him in 
 a toga, or any humbug of that sort. The old fellow looks 
 baggy, but so he was. They ought to have kept his 
 chimney-pot, though. Better than giving him those 
 scraps of hair, when everyone knows he was as bald as 
 a beetle.' 
 
 'Sir Job should have been granted Cicsar's privilege,' 
 said Mr. Warricombe, with a pleasant twinkle in his eyes. 
 
 * What was that ? ' came from the son, with abrupt 
 indifference. 
 
 ' For shame, Buckland ! ' 
 
 ' What do I care for Caesar's privileges ? We can't 
 burden our minds with that antiquated rubbish nowadays. 
 
BORN IN EXILE 11 
 
 You would despise it yourself, father, if it hadn't 
 got packed into your head when you were young.' 
 
 The parent raised his eyebrows in a bantering smile. 
 
 * I have lived to hear classical learning called anti- 
 quated rubbish. AVell, well ! — Ha ! there is Professor Gale.' 
 
 The Professor of Geology, a tall man, who strode over 
 the pavement as if he were among granite hills, caught 
 sight of the party and approached. His greeting was 
 that of a familiar friend ; he addressed young Warricombe 
 and his sister by their Christian names, and inquired after 
 certain younger members of the household. Mr. Warri- 
 combe, regarding him with a look of repressed eagerness, 
 laid a hand on his arm, and spoke in the subdued voice 
 of one who has important news to communicate. 
 
 ' If I am not much mistaken, I have chanced on a new 
 species of Immalonotus ! ' 
 
 ' Indeed ! — not in your kitchen garden, I presume ? ' 
 
 ' Hardly. Dr. Pollock sent me a box of specimens the 
 other day ' 
 
 Buckland saw with annoyance the likelihood of prolonged 
 discussion. 
 
 ' I don't know whether you care to remain standing all 
 the afternoon,' he said to his mother. * At this rate we 
 certainly shan't get seats.' 
 
12 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 ' We will walk on, Martin,' said tlie lady, glancing at 
 her husband. 
 
 ' We come ! we come ! ' cried the Professor, witli a wave 
 of his arm. 
 
 The palseontological talk continued as far as the entrance 
 of the assembly hall. The zest with which Mr. Warri- 
 combe spoke of his discovery never led him to raise his 
 voice above the suave, mellow note, touched with humour, 
 which expressed a modest assurance. Mr. Gale was dis- 
 tinguished by a blunter mode of speech ; he discoursed 
 with open-air vigour, making use now and then of a racy 
 colloquialism which the other would hardly have per- 
 mitted himself. 
 
 As young Warricombe had foreseen, the seats obtainable 
 were none too advantageous ; only on one of the highest 
 rows of the amphitheatre could they at length establish 
 themselves. 
 
 *Buckland will enjoy the more attention when he 
 marches down to take his prizes,' observed the father. 
 'He must sit at the end here, that he mayn't liave a 
 struggle to get out.' 
 
 ' Don't, Martin, don't ! ' urged his wife, considerately. 
 * Oh, it doesn't affect me,' said Buckland, with a laugli. 
 ' I feel pretty sure I have got the Logic and the Chemistry, 
 
BORN IN EXILE ' 13 
 
 and those are what I care most about. I dare say Peak 
 has beaten me in Geology.' 
 
 The appearance in the lower part of the hall of a dark- 
 robed procession, headed by the tall figure of the 
 Principal, imposed a moment's silence, broken by out- 
 bursts of welcoming applause. The Professors of Whitelaw 
 College w^ere highly popular, not alone with the members 
 of their classes, but with all the educated inhabitants of 
 Kingsmill; and deservedly, for several of them bore 
 names of wide recognition, and as a body they did honour 
 to the institution w^hich had won their services. With 
 becoming formality they seated themselves in face of the 
 public. On tables before them were exposed a consider- 
 able number of well-bound books, shortly to be distributed 
 among the collegians, who gazed in that direction with 
 speculative eyes. 
 
 Among the general concourse might have been discovered 
 two or three representatives of the wage-earning multitude 
 which Kingsmill depended upon for its prosperity, but 
 their presence was due to exceptional circumstances ; the 
 college provided for proletarian education by a system of 
 evening classes, a curriculum necessarily quite apart from 
 that followed by the regular students. Kingsmill, to be 
 sure, w^as no nurse of Toryism ; the robust employers of 
 
14 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 labour who sent tlieir sons to Wliitclaw — either to 
 complete a training deemed sufficient for an active career, 
 or by way of transition-stage between school and univer- 
 sity — were for the most part avowed Eadicals, in theory 
 scornful of privilege, practically supporters of that mode 
 of freedom which regards life as a remorseless conflict. 
 Not a few of the young men (some of these the hardest 
 and most successful workers) came from poor, middle- 
 class homes, whence, but for Sir Job's foundation, they 
 must have set forth into the world with no better equip- 
 ment of knowledge than was supplied by some ' academy ' 
 of the old type: a glance distinguished such students 
 from the well-dressed and well-fed oftspring of Kingsmill 
 plutocracy. The note of the assembly w'as something 
 other than refinement ; rather, its high standard of health, 
 spirits, and comfort — the characteristic of Capitalism. 
 Decent reverence for learning, keen appreciation of 
 scientific power, warm liberality of thought and sentiment 
 within appreciable limits, enthusiasm for economic, civic, 
 national ideals, — such attributes were abundantly dis- 
 coverable in each serried row. From the expanse of 
 countenances beamed a boundless self-satisfaction. To be 
 connected in any w^ay wdth Whitelaw formed a subject of 
 pride, seeing that here was the sturdy outcome of the 
 
BORN IN EXILE " 15 
 
 most modern educational endeavour, a noteworthy instance 
 of what Englishmen can do for themselves, unaided hj 
 bureaucratic machinery. Every student who achieved 
 distinction in to-day's class lists was felt to bestow a 
 share of his honour npon each spectator who applauded 
 him. 
 
 With occasional adjustment of his eye-glasses, and 
 smiling his smile of modest tolerance, Mr. Warricombe 
 surveyed the crowded hall. His connection with the 
 town was not intimate, and he could discover few faces 
 that were familiar to him. A native and, till of late, an 
 inhabitant of Devon, he had come to reside on his 
 property near Kingsmill because it seemed to him that 
 the education of his children would be favoured by a 
 removal thither. Two of his oldest friends held pro- 
 fessorships at Whitelaw; here, accordingly, his eldest 
 son was making preparation for Cambridge, whilst his 
 daughter attended classes at the admirable High School, 
 of which Kingsmill was only less proud than of its 
 College. 
 
 Seated between his father and his sister, Buckland drew 
 their attention to such persons or personages as interested 
 his very selective mind. 
 
 'Admire the elegant languor of Wotherspoon,' he 
 
16 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 remarked, indicating the Professor of Greek. 'Watch 
 him for a moment, and you'll see him glance con- 
 temptuously at old riummer. He can't help it ; they 
 hate each other.' 
 
 * But why ? ' whispered the girl, with timid eagerness. 
 
 ' Oh, it began, they say, when Plummer once had to 
 take one of Wotherspoon's classes ; some foolery about a 
 second aorist. Thank goodness, I don't understand the 
 profound dispute. — Oh, do look at that fatuous idiot 
 Chilvers ! ' 
 
 The young gentleman of whom he spoke, a student 
 of Buckland's own standing, had just attracted general 
 notice. Eisen from his seat in the lower part of the 
 amphitheatre, at the moment when all were hushed in 
 anticipation of the Principal's address, Mr. Chilvers was 
 beckoning to someone whom his eye had descried at a 
 great distance, and for whom, as he indicated by gesture, 
 he had preserved a place. 
 
 'See how it delights him to make an exhibition of 
 himself ! ' pursued the censorious youth. ' I'd bet a 
 sovereign he's arranged it all. Look how he brandishes 
 his arm to display his cuffs and gold links. Now he 
 touches his hair, to point out how light and exquisite it 
 is, and how beautifully he parts it ! ' 
 
BORX IN EXILE * 17 
 
 * What a graceful figure ! ' miinnured ^Irs. "WarriconiLe, 
 with genuine admiration. 
 
 * There, that's just what lie hopes everyone is sayincj,' 
 replied her son, in a tone of laughing disgust. 
 
 ' But he certainly is graceful, Buckland,' persisted the 
 lady. 
 
 'And in the meantime,' remarked ]\Ir. Warricombe, 
 drily, 'we are all awaiting the young gentleman's 
 pleasure.' 
 
 ' Of course ; he enjoys it. Almost all -the people on that 
 row belong to him — father, mother, sisters, brothers, 
 uncles, aunts, and cousins to the fourth degree. Look at 
 their eyes fondly fixed upon him.! Xew he pretends to 
 loosen his collar at the throat, just for a change of attitude 
 — the pnppy 1 ' 
 
 'My dear!' remonstrated his mother, with sppreheneive 
 glance at her neighbours. 
 
 'But he is really clever, isn't he, Buckland ?' asked the 
 sister, — her name was Sidwell. 
 
 ' After a fashion. I shouldn't wonder if he takes a dozen 
 or two prizes. It's all a knack you know.' 
 
 ' Where is your friend Beak ? ' ^Ir. Warricombe made 
 
 inquiry. 
 
 But at this moment Mr. Chilvers abandoned his en- 
 voi. I. 2 
 
18 BOPtX IN EXILE 
 
 deavour and hecanio seated, allowing the Principal to rise, 
 nianusciipt in hand. Buckland leaned back with an air 
 of resignation to boredom ; his father bent slightly forward, 
 uilh lips close pressed and brows wrinkled ; Mrs. Warri- 
 combe widened her eyes, as if heaiing were performed 
 Avith those organs, and assumed the smile she would have 
 worn had the speaker been addressing her in particular. 
 Sidwell's blue eyes imitated the movement of her 
 mother's, Avith a look of profound gravity which 
 showed that she Iiad wholly forgotten herself in 
 reverential listening- ; onlv when five minutes' strict 
 attention induced a sense of weariness did she allow a 
 glance to stray first along the professorial rank, then 
 towards the place where the golden head of young 
 Chilvers was easily distinguishable. 
 
 Nothing could be more satisfactory than the annual 
 report summarised by Principal Xarcs, whose mellifluous 
 voice and daintily pedantic utterance fell upon expectant 
 hearing with the impressiveness of personal compliment. 
 So delivered, statistics partook of the grace of culture ; 
 details of academic organisation acquired something 
 more than secular sionilicancc. In this the ninth vear 
 of its existence, AVhitelaw College was flourishing in every 
 possible way. Private beneficence had endowed it with 
 
BUPvN IN EXILE 19 
 
 new scliularsljips and exliibitions ; the scheme of lectures 
 had been extended ; tlie number of its students steadily 
 increased, and tlieir successes in the field of examination 
 had been notewortliy beyond precedent. Truly, the heart 
 of their founder, to whom honour had this day been 
 rendered, nmst have ghaddened if he could but liave 
 listened to the story of dignified progress ! Applause, loud 
 and long, greeted tlie close of the address. Bucldand 
 AVarricombe was probably the oidy collegian who disdained 
 to manifest approval in any way. 
 
 ' Why don't you clap ? ' asked his sister, wlio, girl-like, 
 was excited to warmth of cheek and brightness of eye by 
 the enthusiasm about her. 
 
 ' That kind of thing is out of date,' replied the young 
 man, thrusting his hands deep into his pockets. 
 
 As Professor of Logic and Moral Philosophy, Dr. Nares 
 began the distribution of prizes. Buckland, in spite of his 
 resolve to exhibit no weakness, waited witli unmistakable 
 tremor for the announcement of the leading name, which 
 might possibly be his own. A few words of comment 
 prefaced tlie declaration : — ne^•er had it been the Professor s 
 lot to review more admirable papers than those to which 
 he had awarded the first prize. The name of the student 
 called upon to come forward was — Godwin Peak. 
 
20 BOEN IN EXILE 
 
 ' Beaten ! ' escaped from Buckland's lips. 
 
 Mrs. Warricombe glanced at her son with smiling 
 sympathy ; Sid well, whose cheek had paled as her nerves 
 quivered under the stress of expectancy, murmured a 
 syllable of disappointment ; Mr. Warricombe set his brows 
 and did not venture to look aside. A moment, and all 
 eyes were directed upon the successful student, who rose 
 from a seat half-way down the hall and descended the 
 middle passage towards the row of Professors. He was a 
 young man of spare figure and unhealthy complexion, his 
 age not easily conjectured. Embarrassment no doubt 
 accounted for much of the awkwardness of his demeanour ; 
 but, under any circumstances, he must have appeared un- 
 gainly, for his long arms and legs had outgrown their 
 garments, wliich were no fashionable specimens of tailor- 
 ing. The nervous gravity of his countenance had a pecu- 
 liar sternness ; one might have imagined that he was 
 fortifying Ids self-control with scorn of the elegantly 
 clad people though whom he passed. Amid plaudits, 
 he received from tlie hands of the Principal a couple of 
 solid volumes, probably some standard work of phil- 
 osophy, and, thus burdened, returned with hurried step 
 to his place. 
 
 ' ISTo one expected that,' remarked Buckland to his father. 
 
BORN IN EXILE 2X 
 
 ' He must liave craiiiined furiously for the exam. It's 
 outside his work for the First B.A.* 
 
 * What a shame ! ' Sidwell whispered to her motlier ; and 
 tlie reply was a look which eloquently expressed Mrs. 
 AVarricombe's lack of sympathy with the victor. 
 
 But a second prize had been awarded. As soon as silence 
 was restored, the rrincipal's gracious voice delivered a 
 summons to ' Buckland Martin Warricombe.' A burst 
 of acclamation, coming especially from that part of the 
 amphitheatre where Whitelaw's nurslings had gathered in 
 greatest numbers, seemed to declare the second prizeman 
 distinctly more popular than the first. Preferences of this 
 kind are always to be remarked on such occasions. 
 
 ' Second prize be hanged ! ' growled the young man, as, 
 with a flush of shame on his ruddy countenance, he set 
 forth to receive the honour, leaving Mr. Warricombe con- 
 vulsed with silent laughter. 
 
 'He would far rather have had nothing at all,' mur- 
 mured Sidwell, who shared her brother's pique and 
 humiliation. 
 
 ' Oh, it'll do him good,' was her father's reply. ' Duckland 
 has got into a way of swaggering.' 
 
 Undeniable was the swagger with which the good-looking, 
 brcezv lad went and returned. 
 
22 BORN IX EXILE 
 
 ' What is the l)0<->k ?' imiuired Mr. Wurricombc. 
 
 *I don't know. — Oil, Mill's Logic. Idiotic (dioice 1 
 They miglit have known I had it already.' 
 
 •They clap him fur more than they did Mr. Teak/ 
 Sidwell whispered to her mother, with satisfaction. 
 
 Backhand kept silence for a few minutes, then muttered : 
 
 ' There's nothing I care about now till Chemistry and 
 Geology. Here comes old Wotherspoon. Xow we shall 
 know who is strongest in second aorists, I shouldn't 
 wonder if Peak takes both Senior Greek and Latin. I 
 heartily hope he'll beat that ass Chilvers.' 
 
 But the name so offensive to young Warricombe was 
 the first that issued from the Professor's lips. Beginning 
 with the competition for a special classical prize, Professor 
 AVotherspoon announced that the honours had fallen to 
 ' Bruno Leathwaite Chilvers.' 
 
 'That young man is not badly supplied with brains, say 
 what you will,' remarked Mr. AVarricombe. 
 
 Upon Bruno Leathwaite Chilvers keen attention was 
 directed ; every pair of female eyes studied his graces, and 
 female hands had a great part in the applause that gi'eeted 
 his arising. Applause different in kind from that hitherto 
 bestowed ; less noisy, but implying, one felt, a more delicate 
 spirit of commendation. With perfect self-command, with 
 
BORN IN EXILE 23 
 
 singular facial decoruiii, with a walk which betolvened 
 elegant athleticism and safely skirted the bounds of foppery, 
 Mr. Chilvers discharged the duty he was conscious of owing 
 to a multitude of kinsfolk, friends, admirers. You would 
 have detected something clerical in the young man's air. 
 It became the son of a popular clergyman, and gave promise 
 of notable aptitude for the sacred career to which Bruno 
 Leathwaite, as was well understood, already had designed 
 liimself. In matters sartorial lie presented a high ideal to 
 his fellow-students; tliis seemly attention to externals, 
 and the delicate glow of health discerniljle through the 
 golden down of his cheeks, testified the compatibility of 
 hard study and social observances, liruno had been heard 
 to say that the one thing it behoved Whitelaw to keep 
 
 carefully in mind was the preservation of ' tone,' a 
 
 quality far less easy to cultivate tlian mere academic 
 
 excellence. 
 
 * How clever he must be ! ' purred ^Irs. AVarricombe. 
 
 ' If he lives, he will some day be an archbishop.' 
 
 Buckland was leanincj back with his eves closed, dis- 
 
 gusted at the spectacle. Xor did he move when Professor 
 
 Wotherspoon's voice made the next announcement. 
 
 *In Senior Greek, the first prize is taken by — Bruno 
 
 Leathwaite Chilvers.' 
 
24 BORN IX EXILE 
 
 'Then I .su])pose Peak comes second,' muttered Luck- 
 land. 
 
 So it proved. Summoned to receive tlie inferior prize, 
 Godwin Peak, his countenance liarslier than before, his 
 eyes cast down, moved ungracefully to the estrade. And 
 during the next half-hour tins twofold exhibition was 
 several times repeatei.l. In Senior Latin, in Modern and 
 Ancient History, in English Language and Literature, in 
 Trench, first sounded the name of Chilvers, whilst to the 
 second award was invariably attached that of Peak. Mrs. 
 Warriconibe's delight expressed itself in every permissible 
 way : on each occasion she exclaimed, * How clever he is ! ' 
 Sidwell cast frequent glances at her brother, in whom a 
 shrewder eye could have divined conflict of feelings — 
 disgust at the glorification of Chilvers and involuntary 
 pleasure in the successive defeats of his own conqueror in 
 Philosophy. Buckland's was by no means an ignoble face ; 
 venial malice did not ultimately prevail in him. 
 
 'It's Peak's own fault,' he declared at length, with 
 vexation. ' Chilvers stuck to the subjects of his course. 
 Peak has been taking up half-a-dozen extras, and 
 they've done for him. I shouldn't wonder if he went in 
 for the Poem and the Essay: I know he was thinking 
 about both.' 
 
BORN IX EXILE 25 
 
 Whether Godwin Peak had or had not endeavoured fur 
 these two j^rizes remained uncertain. AVhen, presently, the 
 results of the competition were made known, it was found 
 that in each case the honour had fallen to a young man 
 liitherto undistinguished. His name was John Edward 
 Earwaker. Externally he bore a sort of generic re- 
 semblance to Peak, for his face was thin and the fashion 
 of his clothing indicated narrow means. 
 
 ' I never heard you mention him,' said Mr. Warricombe, 
 turning to his son with an air of surprise. 
 
 ' I scarcely know him at all ; he's only in one or tw^o of 
 my classes. Peak is thick with him.' 
 
 The subject of the prize poem was 'Alaric'; that of 
 the essay, 'Trades Unionism.' So it was probable that 
 John Edward Earwaker did not lack versatility of 
 intellect. 
 
 On the rising of the Professor of Chemistry, Buckland 
 had once more to subdue signs of expectancy. He knew 
 he had done good papers, but his confidence in the result 
 was now clouded by a dread of the second prize. AVhich 
 indeed fell to him, the first being taken by a student of no 
 account save in this very special subject. Keen was his 
 mortification ; he growled, muttered, shrugged his shoulders 
 nervously. 
 
26 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 'If 1 had foreseen this, you'd never have caught me 
 lierc,' was liis reply, when Sidwell whispered consola- 
 tion. 
 
 There still remained a chance for him, signalled by the 
 familiar form of Professor Gale. Geology had been a life- 
 long study with Martin Warricombe, and his son pursued 
 it with hereditary aptitude. Sidwell and her mother ex- 
 changed a look of courageous hope; each felt convinced 
 that the genial Professor could not so far disregard private 
 feeling as to place Buckland anywhere but at the head of 
 the class. 
 
 * The results of the examination are fairly good ; I'm 
 afraid I can't say more than that,' thus rang out Mr. Gale's 
 hearty voice. ' As for the first two names on my list, I 
 haven't felt justified in placing either before the other. 
 I have bracketed thom, and there will be two prizes. 
 The names are — Godwin Peak and Buckland Martin 
 Warricombe.' 
 
 * He might have mentioned r)Uckland first,' murmured 
 Mrs. "Warricombe, resentfully. 
 
 * lie of course gave them out in alphabetical order,' 
 answered her husband. 
 
 ' Still, it isn't right that Buckland should come second.' 
 ' That's absurd/ was the good-natured reply. 
 
BORN IN EXILE 27 
 
 The lady of course remamed unconvinced, and for years 
 she nourished a pique against Professor Gale, not so much 
 owino: to his havins: bracketed her son as because the letter- 
 P has alphabetical precedence of W. 
 
 In what remained of the proceedings the AVarricombes 
 had no personal interest. For a special reason, however, 
 their attention was excited by the rising of Professor 
 Walsh, who represented the science of lliysics. Early in 
 the present year had been published a speculative treatise 
 which, owing to its supposed incompatibility with Christian 
 dogmas, provoked much controversy and was largely dis- 
 cussed in all educated circles. The work was anonymous, 
 but a rumour which gained general currency attributed it 
 to Professor "VYalsh. In the year 1874 an imputation of 
 religious heresy was not lightly to be incurred by a Pro- 
 fessor — even Professor of Physics — at an English college. 
 There were many people in Kingsmill who considered that 
 Mr. Walsh's delay in repudiating so grave a charge rendered 
 ver}^ doubtful the propriety of his retaining the chair 
 at AVhitelaw. Signiticant was the dispersed applause 
 which followed slowly upon his stepping forward to- 
 day; on the Professor's face was perchance legible 
 somethincr like a hint of amused defiance. Ladies had 
 ceased to beam ; they glanced meaningly at one another, 
 
28 BORN IX EXILE 
 
 and then from under their ej'elids at the supposed 
 heretic. 
 
 'A fine fellow, Walsh ! ' excLiimed Buckland, clapping 
 vigorously. 
 
 His father smiled, but with some uneasiness. Mrs. 
 Warricombe whispered to Sid well : 
 
 ' What a vci y disagreeable face ! The only one of the 
 Professors who doesn't seem a gentleman.' 
 
 The girl was aware of dark reports affecting Mr. Walsh's 
 reputation. Slie hazarded only a brief examination of his 
 features, and looked at .the applauding Buckland with 
 alarm. 
 
 *His lectures are splendid,' said her brulher, em- 
 phatically. 'If I were going to be here next session, I 
 should take them.' 
 
 For some minutes after the Professor's return to 
 his seat a susurration was audible throughout the hall ; 
 bonnets bent together, and beards exchanged curt 
 comments. 
 
 The ceremony, as is usual with all ceremonies, grew 
 wearisome before its end. Buckland was deep in one of 
 the chapters of his geologic prize when the last speaker 
 closed the last report and left the assembly free to disperse. 
 Then followed the season of congratulations : Professors, 
 
BORN IN EXILE 29 
 
 students, and the friendly public mingled in a conversazione. 
 A nucleus of vivacious intercourse formed at the spot where 
 young Mr. Chilvers stood amid trophies of examinational 
 prowess. When his numerous relatives liad all shaken 
 hands with him, and laughed, smiled, or smirked their 
 felicitations, they made way for the press of eager acquaint- 
 ances. His prize libraiy was reverently surveyed, and many 
 were the sportive sallies elicited by the victor's obvious 
 inability to carry away what he had won. Suavely exult- 
 ant, ready with his reply to every flattering address, Bruno 
 Chilvers exhibited a social tact in advance of his years : it 
 was easy to imagine what he would become when Oxford 
 terms and the seal of ordination had matured his youthful 
 
 promise. 
 
 At no great distance stood his competitor, Godwin Peak — 
 
 embarrassed, he also, with wealth of spoils ; but about this 
 
 young man was no concourse of admiring kinsfolk. ISTo 
 
 lady offered him her hand or shaped compliments fur him 
 
 with gracious lips. Half-a-dozen fellow-students, among 
 
 them John Earwaker, talked in his vicinity of the day's 
 
 results. Peak's part in the gossip was small, and when he 
 
 smiled it was in a forced, anxious way, with brief raising 
 
 of his eyes. For a moment only was the notice of a wider 
 
 circle directed upon Lim when Dr. Nares, moving past 
 
30 BORN IX EXILE 
 
 with a train of colloquial attendants, turned aside to 
 repeat his praise of tlie young man's achievements in 
 Philosophy : he Ijestowed a kindly shake of the hand, 
 and moved on. 
 
 The AVarricombe group descended, in purposeless 
 fashion, towards the spot where Chilvers held his court. 
 Their personal acquaintance with Bruno and his family 
 was slight, and though Mrs, Warricombe would gladly 
 have pushed forward to claim recognition, natural diffi- 
 dence restrained her. Sid well kept in the rear, risking 
 now and then a glance of vivid curiosity on either 
 hand. Buckland, striving not to look petulant or sullen, 
 allowed himself to be led on ; but when he became 
 aware of the tendency Bruno-wards, a protest broke 
 from liim. 
 
 ' There's no need to swell that fellow's conceit. Here, 
 father, come and have a word with Peak ; he looks ratlier 
 down in the mouth among his second prizes.' 
 
 I\Ir. Warricombe having beckoned his companions, they 
 reluctantly followed to the more open part of the 
 hall. 
 
 ' It's very generous of Buckland,' fell from the lady's 
 lips, and she at length resolved to show an equal mag- 
 nanimity. Peak and Earwaker were conversing together 
 
BORN IN EXILE 31 
 
 when BucklaiiJ broke in upon them with genial out- 
 burst. 
 
 * Confound it, Peak ! what do you mean by getting me 
 stuck into a bracket ? * 
 
 ' I had the same question to ask you,' returned the other, 
 with a grim smile. 
 
 Mr. Warricombe came up with extended hand. 
 
 'A species of bracket,' he remarked, smiling benevo- 
 lently, ' which no algebraic process will remove. Let us 
 hope it signifies that you and Buckland will work througli 
 life shoulder to shoulder in the field of geology. AVhat 
 did Professor Gale give you ? ' 
 
 Before he could reply. Peak had to exchange greetiugs 
 with Mrs. Warricombe and her daughter. Only once 
 hitherto had he met them. Six months ago he had gone 
 out with Buckland to the country-house and passed an 
 afternoon there, making at the time no very favourable 
 impression on his hostess. He was not of the young men 
 who easily insinuate themselves into ladies' affections : his 
 exterior was against him, and he seemed too conscious of 
 his disadvantages in that particular. Mrs. Warricombe 
 found it difficult to shape a few civil phrases for the 
 acceptance of the saturnine student. Sidwell, repelled and 
 in a measure alarmed by his bilious countenance, could do 
 
32 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 no more than grant him licr delicately gloved fingers. 
 Peak, for his part, had nothing to say. He did not even 
 affect an interest in these persons, and turned his eyes to 
 follow the withdrawing Earwaker. i\Ir. AVarricombe, how- 
 ever, had fonnd topic for discourse in the prize volume ; he 
 began to comment on the excellence of certain sections of 
 the book. 
 
 'Do you go home?' interrupted Buckland, addressing 
 the question to his rival. ' Or do you stay in Kingsmill 
 until theFirst B.A. ?' 
 
 ' I shall go home,' replied Peak, moving uneasily. 
 ' Perhaps we may have the pleasure of seeing you 
 at Thornhaw when you are up again for the ex- 
 amination ? ' said ]Mrs. Warricombe, with faltering 
 tongue. 
 
 * I'm afraid I shan't be able to come, thank you,' was 
 the awkward response. 
 
 Buckland' s voice came to the relief. 
 ' I daresay I may look in upon you at your torture. 
 Good luck, old fellow! If we don't see each other 
 a^ain, write to me at Trinilv before the end of the 
 year.' 
 
 As soon as she was sulficiently remote, ^Irs. AVarri- 
 conibe ejaculated in a subdued voice of irritation : 
 
BORX IN EXILE 33 
 
 ' Sucli a very unprepossessing young man I never met ! 
 He seems to have no breeding whatever.' 
 
 ' Overweighted wdtli brains,' rephed her husband ; 
 adding to himself, ' and by no means so with money, I 
 fear.' 
 
 Opportunity at length offering, Mrs. "Warricombe stepped 
 into the circle irradiated by Bruno Chilvers ; her liusband 
 and Sidwell pressed after. Buckland, with an exclama- 
 tion of disQ^ust, went off to criticise the hero amoncj a 
 group of his particular friends. 
 
 Godwin Peak stood alone. On the bencli wliere he had 
 sat were heaped the prize volumes (eleven in all, some of 
 them massive), and his wish was to make arrangements 
 for their removal. Gazing about him, he became aware of 
 the college librarian, with whom he was on friendly 
 terms. 
 
 ' Mr. Poppleton, who would pack and send these books 
 away for me ? ' 
 
 'An emharras de richesse!' laughed tlie librarian. 'If 
 you like to tell the porter to take care of them for the 
 present, I shall be glad to see that they are sent wlierever 
 you like.' 
 
 Peak answered with a warmth of acknowledgment whicli 
 seemed to imply that he did not often receive kindnesses. 
 
 VOL. I. 3 
 
34 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 Before long he was free to leave the College, and at the 
 exit he overtook Earwaker, who carried a Lrown paper 
 parcel. 
 
 ' Come and have some tea with me across the way, will 
 you ? ' said the literary prizeman. ' I have a couple of 
 hours to wait for my train.' 
 
 'AH riglit. I envy you that five-volume Spenser.' 
 
 * I wish they had given me five authors I don't possess 
 instead. I think I shall sell this.' 
 
 Earwaker laughed as he said it — a strange chuckle from 
 
 deep down in his throat. A comparison of the young men, 
 
 as they walked side by side, showed that Peak was of 
 
 better physical type than his comrade. Earwaker had a 
 
 slight, unshapely body and an ill-fitting head ; he w^alked 
 
 with excessive strides and swung his thin arm nervously. 
 
 Probably he was the elder of the two, and he looked 
 
 twenty. For Peak's disadvantages of person, his studious 
 
 bashfulness and poverty of attire were mainly responsible. 
 
 AVith improvement in general health even his features 
 
 might have a tolerable comeliness, or at all events would 
 
 not be disagreeable. Earwaker's visage was homely, and 
 
 seemed the more so for his sprouting moustache and beard. 
 
 * Have you heard any talk about Walsh ? ' the latter 
 
 inquired, as they walked on. 
 
BORN IN EXILE 35 
 
 Peak slirugged his shoulders, with a laugh. 
 
 * No. Have you ? ' 
 
 ' Some women in front of me just now were evidently 
 discussing him. I heard " How shocking ! " and " Dis- 
 graceful I " ' 
 
 Peak's eyes flashed, and he exclaimed in a voice of 
 wrath : 
 
 ' Besotted idiots ! How I wish I were in "Walsh's 
 position I How I should enjoy standing up before 
 the crowd of fools and seeing their fear of me ! 
 But I couldn't keep it to myself; I should give in 
 to the temptation to call them blockheads and jack- 
 asses.' 
 
 Earwaker was amused at his friend's vehemence. He 
 sympathised with it, but had an unyouthful sobriety in 
 the expression of his feelings. 
 
 ' Most likely he despises them far too much to be dis- 
 turbed by what they think of him. But, I say, isn't it 
 desperately comical that one human being can hate and 
 revile another because they think differently about the 
 origin of the universe ? Couldn't you roar with laughter 
 when you've thought over it for a moment ? " You be 
 damned for your theory of irregular verbs ! " is noth- 
 incj to it.' And he uttered his croak of mirth, whilst 
 
36 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 Peak, with distorted features, lauglied in rage and 
 scoru. 
 
 They had crossed the open space in front of the College 
 buildings, and were issuing into the highway, when a voice 
 very unlike those that were wont to sound within the 
 academic precincts (or indeed in the streets of Kingsmill) 
 made sudden demand upon Peak's attention. 
 
 * Thet you, Godwin ? Thoughts I, it must be 'im ! 'Ow 
 goes it, my bo-oy ? You 'ardly reckonise me, I dessay, and 
 I couldn't be sure as it was you till I'd 'ed a good squint 
 at yer. Pve jest called round at your lodgin's, and they 
 towld me as you was at the Collige.' 
 
 He who thus accosted the student, with the most offen- 
 sive purity of Cockney accent, was a man of five-and-forty, 
 dressed in a new suit of ready-made tweeds, the folding 
 crease strongly marked down the front of the trousers and 
 the coat sleeves rather too long. His face bore a strong 
 impress of vulgarity, but at the same time had a certain 
 ingenuousness, a self-absorbed energy and simplicity, 
 which saved it from being wholly repellent ; the brow was 
 narrow, the eyes small and bright, and the coarse lips half 
 hid themselves under a struggling reddish growth. In 
 these lineaments lurked a family resemblance to Godwin 
 Peak, sufficient to support a claim of kindred which at this 
 
BORN IN EXILE 37 
 
 moment might have seemed improbable. At the summons 
 of recognition Godwin stood transfixed ; his arms fell 
 straight, and his head drew back as if to avoid a blow. 
 For an instant he was clay colour, then a hot flush broke 
 upon his cheeks. 
 
 ' I shan't be able to go with you,' he said, in a thick, 
 abrupt voice, addressing Earwaker but not regarding him. 
 'Good-bye!' 
 
 The other offered his hand and, without speaking, walked 
 away. 
 
 * Prize - dye at the Collige, they tell me,' pursued 
 Godwin's relative, looking at a cluster of people that 
 passed. ' What 'ave you took ? ' 
 
 ' One or two class-prizes,' replied the student, his eyes 
 on the ground. * Shall we walk to my lodgings ? ' 
 
 * I thought you might like to walk me over the show. 
 But pr'aps you're in a 'urry ? ' 
 
 ' No, no. But there's nothing particular to see. I think 
 the lecture-rooms are closed by now.' 
 
 * Go's the gent as stands there ? — the figger, I mean.' 
 ' Sir Job Whitelaw, founder of the College.' 
 
 'Job, eh? And was you a-goin' 'ome to yer tea, 
 Godwin ? ' 
 ^Yes.' 
 
38 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 ' Well, then, l(Xjk 'ere, 'spose we go to the little shop 
 opposyte — nice little plyce it looks. I coulJ do a cup o' 
 tea myself, and we can 'ev a quiet confab. It's a long time 
 since we 'ed a talk together. I come over from Twybridge 
 tliis mornin' ; slep' there last night, and saw yer mother 
 an' Oliver. They couldn't give me a bed, but that didn't 
 mike no matter ; I put up at the Xorfolk Harms — five-an- 
 sixforbed an' breakfast. Come along, my bo-oy; I stand 
 treat.' 
 
 Godwin glanced about him. From the College was 
 approaching what seemed to be a formal procession; it 
 consisted of Bruno Chilvers, supported on either hand by 
 ladies and followed by an admiring train. 
 
 * You had better come to my lodgings with me, uncle,' 
 said the young man hurriedly, moving forward. 
 
 ' No, no; I won't be no expense to you, Godwin, bo-oy. 
 And I 'ave a reason for wantin' to go to the little shop 
 opposyte.' 
 
 Already several collegians had passed, giving Peak a 
 nod and scanning his companion ; a moment's delay and 
 Chilvers would be upon him. Without another word, 
 Godwin moved across the broad street to the place of 
 refreshment which his uncle had indicated, and whither 
 Earwaker had preceded them. It was a pastry-cook's, 
 
BORN IN EXILE 39 
 
 occasionally visited by the alumni of Wliitelaw. In the 
 rear of the shop a little room offered seats and tables, 
 and here, Godwin knew, Earwaker would be found. 
 
 ' Let us go up-stairs/ he said, leading to a side entrance. 
 * There's a quieter room.' 
 
 * Eight you are ! ' 
 
 The uncle — his name was Andrew Peak — paused to 
 make a survey of the premises. When he entered, his 
 scrutiny of the establishment was close, and he seemed to 
 reflect with interest upon all he saw. The upper room 
 was empty ; a long table exhibited knives and forks, l)ut 
 there were no signs of active business. Andrew pulled a 
 bell-rope; the summons was answered by an asthmatic 
 woman, who received an order for tea, toast, 'water- 
 creases,' and sundry other constituents of a modest meal. 
 
 * Come 'ere often, Godwin ? ' inquired Andrew, as he 
 stood by the window and mused. 
 
 ' jSTow and then, for a bun.' 
 
 * Much custom from your show over the wye ? ' 
 'Xot so much as a better place w^ould have.' 
 
 ' Young gents don't live at the Collige, they tell me ? ' 
 ' No, there's no residence.' 
 
 ' So naturally they want a plyce where they can 'ev a 
 nibble, somewheres 'andy ? ' 
 
40 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 ' Yes. We luive to go further into the town for a decent 
 dinner.' 
 
 Mest what I thought!' exclaimed Andrew, slapping 
 his leg. * With a establishment like that oi)posyte, 
 there'd ought to be a medium-sized Spiers & Pond at 
 this 'ere street corner for any man as knows 'is wye 
 about. That's my idea, Godwin — see ? ' 
 
 Peak had as yet given but half an ear to his relative's 
 discourse ; he had answered mechanically, and only now 
 was constrained to serious attention by a note of meaning 
 in the last interrogative. He looked at the speaker; and 
 Andrew, in the manner of one accustomed to regard life 
 as a game of cunning, first winked with each eye, then 
 extended one cheek with the pressui-e of his tongue. 
 Sickened with disgust, Godwin turned suddenly away, — 
 a movement entirely lost upon his uncle, who imagined 
 the young man to be pondering a fruitful suggestion. 
 
 ' I don't mind tellin' you, Godwin,' pursued Andrew 
 presently, in a cautious voice, laying an open hand against 
 liis trousers-pocket, 'as I've been a-doin' pretty good 
 Imsiness lytely. Been growin' a bit — sec ? Pm runnin' 
 round an' keepin' my heyes open — understand ? Thoughts 
 I, now, if I could come acrosst a nicet little openin', some- 
 think in the rest'rant line, tliaVs what 'ud sewt me jest 
 
BORN IN EXILE 41 
 
 about down to the ground. I'm cut out for it — see ? I've 
 got the practical experience, and I've got the capital ; and 
 as soon as I got a squint of this little corner shop — under- 
 stand what I mean ? ' 
 
 His eyes gleamed with eagerness wliich was too candid 
 for the typically vulgar mind. In his self-satisfaction he 
 exhibited a gross cordiality wliich might have made rather 
 an agreeable impression on a person otherwise disinterested. 
 
 At this point the asthmatic woman reappeared, carrying 
 a laden tray, Andrew at once entered into conversation 
 with her, framing his remarks and queries so as to learn 
 all he could concerning the state of the business and the 
 disposition of its proprietors. His nephew, meanwhile, 
 stung to the core with shame, kept apart, as if amusing 
 himself with the prospect from the window, until sum- 
 moned to partake of the meal. His uncle expressed 
 contempt of everything laid before them. 
 
 * Tills ain't no w^ye of caterin' for young gents at Collige ! ' 
 he exclaimed. ' If there ain't a openin' 'ere, then I never 
 see one. Godwin, bo-oy, 'ow much longer '11 it be before 
 you're out of you're time over there ? ' 
 
 ' It's uncertain — I can't say.' 
 
 * But ain't it understood as you stay till you've passed 
 the top standard, or whatever it's called ? ' 
 
42 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 * I really haven't made up my miad what to do.' 
 
 ' But you'll be studyin' 'ere for another twelve months, 
 I dessay ? ' 
 
 ' Why do you ask ? ' 
 
 'Why ? cos s'posin' I got 'old o' this 'ere little shop, or 
 another like it close by, me an' you nn'ght come to a 
 understandin' — see ? It might be worth your while to 
 give a 'int to the young gents as you're in with — eh ? ' 
 
 Godwin was endeavouring to masticate a piece of toast, 
 but it turned to sawdust upon his palate. Of a sudden, 
 when the bilious gloom of his countenance foretold any- 
 thing but mirth, he burst into hard laugliter. Andrew 
 smote him jovially on tlie back. 
 
 ' Tickles you, eh, bo-oy ? " Peak's Eefreshment an' 
 Dinin' Eooms ! " Everything tip-top, mind ; respectable 
 business, Godwin ; nothing for nobody to be ashamed 
 oi—tliat wouldn't do, of course.' 
 
 The young man's laughter ended as abruptly as it had 
 begun, but his visage was no longer clouded with bitter 
 misery. A strange indifference seemed to have come upon 
 him, and whilst the speculative uncle talked away with 
 increasing excitement, he ate and drank heedlessly. 
 
 'Mother expects you to-morrow, she tells me,' said 
 Andrew, when his companion's taciturnity had suggested 
 
BORN IN EXILE 43 
 
 a change of topic. ' Slioiildn't wonder if you see me over 
 at Twybridge again before long. I was to remember your 
 awnt and your cousin Jowey to you. You wouldn't know 
 Jowey ? the sharpest lad of his age as ever I knowed, is 
 Jowey. Your father 'ud a' took a deliglit in 'im, if 'e'd 
 lived, that 'e would.' 
 
 For a quarter of an hour or so the dialogue was con- 
 cerned with domestic history. Godwin gave brief reply 
 to many questions, but asked none, not even such as 
 civility required. The elder man, however, was unaffected 
 by this reticence, and when at length his nephew pleaded 
 an engagement as excuse for leave-taking he shook hands 
 with much warmth. The two parted close by the shop, 
 and Godwin, casting a glance at the now silent College, 
 walked hastily towards his lodgings. 
 
11 
 
 In the prosperous year of 185G, incomes of between a 
 liundred and a hundred and fifty pounds were chargeable 
 Avith a tax of elevenpence halfpenny in the pound : persons 
 who enjoyed a revenue of a hundred and fifty or more had 
 the honour of paying one and fourpence. Abatements" 
 there were none, and families supporting life on two 
 pounds a week might in some cases, perchance, be re- 
 conciled to tlie mulct by considering how equitably its 
 incidence was graduated. 
 
 Some, on the other hand, were less philosophical ; for 
 instance, the household consisting of Nicholas Peak, his 
 wife, their three-year-old daughter, their newly-born son, 
 and a blind sister of Nicholas, dependent upon him for 
 sustenance. My. Peak, aged thirty and now four years 
 wedded, had a small cottage on the outskirts of Greenwich. 
 He w^as employed as dispenser, at a salary of thirty-five 
 
 44 
 
BORN IN EXILE 45 
 
 shillings a week, by a medical man with a large practice. 
 His income, therefore, fell considerably within the hundred 
 pound limit ; and, all things considered, it was not un- 
 reasonable that he should be allowed to expend the whole 
 of this sum on domestic necessities. But it came to pass 
 that Nicholas, in his greed of wealth, obtained supplemen- 
 tary employment, which benefited him to the extent of a 
 yearly ten pounds. Called upon to render his statement 
 to the surveyor of income-tax, he declared himself in 
 possession of a hundred and one pounds per annum ; con- 
 sequently, he stood indebted to the Exchequer in the sum 
 of four pounds, sixteen shillings, and ninepence. His 
 countenance darkened, as also did that of Mrs. Peak. 
 
 ' This is wrong and cruel — dreadfully cruel ! ' cried the 
 latter, with tears in her eyes. 
 
 ' It is ; but that's no new thing,' was the bitter reply. 
 
 ' I think it's wrong of you^ Nicholas. What need is 
 tliere to say anything about that ten pounds ? It's taking 
 the food out of our mouths.' 
 
 Knowing only the letter of the law, ]\Ir. Peak answered 
 sternly : 
 
 * My income is a hundred and one pounds. I can't sign 
 my name to a lie.* 
 
 Picture the man. Tall, gaunt, with sharp intellectual 
 
46 BORN IX i:XILE 
 
 features, and eyes of singular beauty, the faee of an 
 enthusiast — under given circumstances, of a hero. Poorly 
 clad, of course, Lut with rigorous self-respect ; his boots 
 polished, pivjoria manu, to the point of perfection ; his 
 linen washed and ironed by the indefatigable wife. Of 
 simplest tastes, of most frugal habits, a few books the only 
 luxury which he deemed indispensable; yet a most difficult 
 man to live with, for to him applied precisely the descrip- 
 tion which Eobert Burns gave of his own father ; he was 
 ' of stubborn, ungainly integrity and headlong irascibility.' 
 Ungainly, for his strong impulses towards culture were 
 powerless to obliterate the traces of his rude origin. Born 
 in a London alley, the son of a labourer burdened with a 
 large family, he had made his way by sheer force of 
 character to a position which would have seemed proud 
 success but for the difficulty with which he kept himself 
 alive. His parents were dead. Of his brothers, two had 
 disappeared in the abyss, and one, Andrew, earned a hard 
 livelihood as a journeyman baker; the elder of his sisters 
 had married poorly, and the younger was his blind pen- 
 sioner. Nicholas had found a wife of better birth than 
 his own, a young woman with country kindred in decent 
 circumstances, though she herself served as nursemaid in 
 the house of the medical man who employed her future 
 
BOEN IN EXILE 47 
 
 husband. He had taught himself the English language, so 
 far as grammar went, but could not cast off the London 
 accent; Mrs. Peak was fortunate enough to speak with 
 nothing worse than the note of the Midlands. 
 
 His bent led him to the study of history, politics, 
 economics, and in that time of military outbreak he 
 was frenzied by the conflict of his ideals with the state of 
 things about him. A book frequently in his hands was 
 Godwin's Political Justice, and when a son had been born 
 to him he decided to name the child after that favourite 
 author. In this way, at all events, he could find some 
 expression for his hot defiance of iniquity. 
 
 He paid his income-tax, and felt a savage joy in the 
 privation thus imposed upon his family. Mrs. Peak could 
 not forgive her husband, and in this case, though she had 
 but dim appreciation of the point of honour involved, her 
 censures doubtless fell on Nicholas's vulnerable spot ; it 
 was the perversity of arrogance, at least as much as 
 honesty, that impelled him to incur taxation. His 
 wife's perseverance in complaint drove him to stern 
 impatience, and for a long time the peace of the house- 
 hold suffered. 
 
 When the boy Godwin was five years old, the death of 
 his blind aunt came as a relief to means which were in 
 
48 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 every sense overtaxed. Twelve luoiitlis Inter, a piece of 
 viiiprecedented good fortune seemed to place tlie I'eaks 
 beyond fear of want, and at tlie same time to supply 
 Nicholas with a fulfilment of hopeless desires. By the 
 death of Mrs. Peak's brother, they came into possession 
 of a freehold house and about nine hundred pounds. The 
 property was situated some twelve miles from the Midland 
 town of Twybridge, and thither they at once removed. At 
 Twybridge lived Mrs. Peak's elder sister, Miss Cadman ; 
 but between this lady and her nearest kinsfolk there had 
 been but slight correspondence — the deceased Cadman 
 left her only a couple of hundred pounds. With capital 
 at command, Xicholas Peak took a lease of certain 
 fields near his house, and turned farmer. Tlie study of 
 chemistry had given a special bent to his economic 
 speculations ; he fancied himself endowed with excep- 
 tional aptitude for agriculture, and the scent of the furrow 
 brought all his energies into feverish activity — activity 
 which soon impoverished him : that was in the order of 
 things. ' Ungainly integrity ' and ' headlong irascibility ' 
 wrought the same results for the ex-dispenser as for the 
 Ayrshire husbandman. His farming came to a chaotic 
 end ; and when tlie struggling man died, worn out at forty- 
 three, his wife and children (there was now a voungcr 
 
BORX IX EXILE 49 
 
 boy, Oliver, named after the Protector) had no very bright 
 prospects. 
 
 Tilings went better with them tlian niiglit have been 
 anticipated. To Mrs. Peak her husband's death was not 
 an occasion of unmino'led moiirnine^. For the last few 
 years she had suffered severely from domestic discord, and 
 when left at peace by bereavement she turned with a 
 sense of liberation to the task of caring for her children's 
 future. Godwin was just thirteen, Oliver was eleven ; 
 both had been well schooled, and with the help of friends 
 they might soon be put in the way of self-support. The 
 daughter, Charlotte, sixteen years of age, had accomplish- 
 ments which would perhaps be profitable. The widow 
 decided to make a home in Twybridge, where Miss 
 Cadman kept a millinery shop. By means of this connec- 
 tion, Charlotte presently found employment for her skill 
 in fine needlework. Mrs. Peak was incapable of earning 
 money, but tlie experiences of her early married life 
 enabled her to make more than the most of the pittance 
 at her disposal. 
 
 Miss Cadman was a woman of active mind, something 
 
 of a busy-body — dogmatic, punctilious in her claims to 
 
 respect, proud of the acknowledgment by her acquaintances 
 
 that she was not as other tradespeople ; her cliief weak- 
 voi . I. 4 
 
60 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 iiess was a fanatical ccclesiasticism, the common Uiglit of 
 English womanhood. Circumstances had allowed her a 
 better education than generally falls to women of that 
 standing, and in spite of her shop she succeeded in 
 retaining the friendship of certain ladies long ago her 
 schoolfellows. Among these were the ]\Iisses Lumb — 
 middle-aged sisters, who lived at Twybridge on a small 
 independence, their time chiefly devoted to the support of 
 the Anglican Church. An eldest IMiss Lumb had been 
 fortunate enough to marry that growing potentate of the 
 Midlands, Mr. Job Whitelaw. Xow Lady Whitelaw, she 
 dwelt at Kingsmill, but her sisters frequently enjoyed the 
 honour of entertaining her, and even Miss Cadman the 
 milliner occasionally held converse with the baronet's 
 wife. In this way it came to pass that the Widow Teak 
 and her children were brought under the notice of persons 
 who sooner or later might be of assistance to them. 
 
 Abounding in emphatic advice. Miss Cadman easily 
 persuaded her sister that Godwin must go to school for at 
 least two years longer. The boys had been at a boarding- 
 school twenty miles away from their country home ; it 
 would be better for them now to be put under the care of 
 some Twybridge teacher — such an one as ^liss Cadman's 
 acquaintances could recommend. Yov her own credit, the 
 
BORN IN EXILE 51 
 
 luilliiier was anxious that these nephews of liers should 
 not be running about the town as errand-boys or the like, 
 and with prudence there was no necessity for such degrada- 
 tion. An uncommon lad like Godwin (she imagined him 
 named after the historic earl) must not be robbed of his 
 fair chance in life ; slie would gladly spare a little money 
 for his benefit ; he was a boy to repay such expenditure. 
 
 Indeed it seemed probable. Godwin devoured books, 
 and had a remarkable faculty for gaining solid information 
 on any subject that took his fancy. What might be the 
 special bent of his mind one could not yet discover. He 
 read poetry with precocious gusto, but at the same time 
 his aptitude for scientific pursuits was strongly marked. 
 In botany, chemistry, physics, he made progress which the 
 people about him, including his schoolmaster, were incap- 
 able of appreciating ; and already the collection of books 
 left by his father, most of them out of date, failed to satisfy 
 his curiosity. It might be feared that tastes so discursive 
 would be disadvantageous to a lad who must needs pursue 
 some definite bread-study, and the strain of self-conscious- 
 ness which grew strong in him was again a matter for 
 concern. He cared nothing for boyish games and com- 
 panionship ; in the society of strangers — especially of 
 females — he behaved with an excessive shyness which was 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS 
 
52 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 easily mistaken for a surly temper. Eeproof, correction, 
 he could not endure, and it was fortunate that the decorum 
 of his habits made remonstrance seldom needful. 
 
 Ludicrous as the project would have appeared to any 
 unbiassed observer of character, Miss Cadman conceived 
 a hope that Godwin might become a clergyman. From 
 her point of vicAV it was natural to assume that uncommon 
 talents must be devoted to the service of the Church, 
 and she would have gladly done her utmost for the 
 practical furthering of such an end. Mrs. Peak, though 
 well aware that her son had imbibed the paternal pre- 
 judices, was disposed to entertain the same hope, despite 
 solid obstacles. For several years she had nourished a 
 secret .antagonism to her husband's spirit of political, 
 ■social, and religious rebellion, and in her widowhood she 
 speedily became a pattern of the conservative female. 
 It would have gratified her to discern any possibility 
 of Godwin's assuming the priestly garb. And not alone 
 on the ground of conscience. Long ago she had repented 
 the marriage which connected her with such a family as 
 that of the Peaks, and she ardently desired tliat the 
 children, now exclusively her own, might enter life on 
 a plane superior to their father's. 
 
 ' Godwin, how would you like to go to College and 
 
BORN IN EXILE 53 
 
 be a clergyman ? ' she asked one Sunday afternoon, 
 when an hour or two of congenial readuig seemed to 
 have put the boy into a gentle humour. 
 
 ' To go to College ' was all very well (diplomacy had 
 prompted this preface), but the words that followed fell 
 so alarmingly on Godwin's ear that he looked up with a 
 resentful expression, unable to reply otherwise. 
 
 * You never thought of it, I suppose ? ' his mother 
 faltered; for she often stood in awe of her son, who, 
 though yet but fourteen, had much of his father's com- 
 manding severity. 
 
 * I don't want to be a parson,' came at length, bluntly. 
 
 * Don't use that word, Godwin.' 
 
 ' Why not ? It's quite a proper word. It comes from 
 the Latin persona! 
 
 The mother had enough discretion to keep silence, and 
 Godwin, after in vain trying to settle to his book again^ 
 left the room with disturbed countenance. 
 
 He had now been attending the day-school for about a 
 year, and was distinctly ahead of his coevals. A Christmas 
 examination was on the point of being held, and it hap- 
 pened that a singular test of the lad's moral character 
 coincided with the proof of his intellectual progress. In 
 a neighbouring house lived an old man named Eawmarsh, 
 
54 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 kindly but rather eccentric; he had once done a good 
 business as a printer, and now supported himself by such 
 chance typographic work of a small kind as friends might 
 put in his way. He conceived an affection for Godwin ; 
 often had the boy to talk with him of an evening. On 
 one such occasion, Mr. Eawmarsh opened a desk, took 
 forth a packet of newly printed leaves, and with a mysteri- 
 ous air silently spread them before the boy's eyes. In an 
 instant Godwin became aware that he was looking at the 
 examination papers which a day or two hence would be 
 set before him at school ; he saw and recognised a passage 
 from the book of Virgil which his class had been reading. 
 
 'That is S2cb rosa, you know/ whispered the old pi inter, 
 with half averted face. 
 
 Godwin shrank away, and could not resume the conver- 
 sation thus interrupted. On tlie following day he went 
 about with a feeling of guilt. He avoided the sight of IMr. 
 Eawmarsh, for whom he had suddenly lost all respect, 
 and suffered torments in the thought that he enjoyed an 
 unfair advantage over his class-mates. The Latin passage 
 happened to be one which he knew thoroughly well ; there 
 was no need, even had he desired, to 'look it up'; but in 
 sitting down to the examination, he experienced a sense 
 of shame and self-rebuke. So strong were the effects of 
 
BORN m EXILE 55 
 
 tliis, that lie voluntarily omitted the answer to a certain 
 important question which he could have 'done' better 
 than any of the other boys, thus endeavouring to adjust 
 in his conscience the terms of competition, though in fact 
 no such sacrifice was called for. He came out at the head 
 of the class, but the triumph had no savour for him, and 
 for many a year he was subject to a flush of mortification 
 whenever this incident came back to his mind. 
 
 Mr. Eawmarsh was not the only intelligent man who 
 took an interest in Godwin. In a house which the boy 
 sometimes visited with a school-fellow, lodged a notable 
 couple named Gunnery — the husband about seventy, the 
 wife five years older; they lived on a pension from a 
 railway company. Mr. Gunnery was a dabbler in many 
 sciences, but had a special enthusiasm for geology. Two 
 cabinets of stones and fossils gave evidence of his zealous 
 travels about the British isles ; he had even written a 
 little hand-book of petrology which was for sale at certain 
 booksellers' in Twybridge, and probably nowhere else. To 
 him, about this time, Godwin began to resort, always sure 
 of a welcome ; and in tlie little uncarpeted room where Mr. 
 Gunnery pursued his investigations many a fateful lesson 
 was given and received. The teacher understood the in- 
 telligence he had to deal with, and was delighted to convey, 
 
56 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 by the mode of suggested inference, sundiy results of 
 knowledge which it perhaps would not liave been prudent 
 to declare in plain, popular words. 
 
 Tlieir intercourse was not invariably placid. The 
 geologist had an irritable temper, and in certain states of 
 the atmosphere his rheumatic twinges made it advisable 
 to shun argument with him. Godwin, moreover, was 
 distinguished by an instability of mood peculiarly trying 
 to an old man's testy humour. Of a sudden, to Mr. 
 Gunnery's surprise and annoyance, he would lose all 
 interest in this or that science. Thus, one day the lad de- 
 clared himself unable to name two stones set before him, 
 felspar and quartz, and when his instructor broke into 
 angry impatience he turned sullenly away, exclaiming 
 that he w^as tired of geology. 
 
 'Tired of geology?' cried Mr. Gunnery, with flaming 
 eyes. ' Then / am tired of you, Master Peak ! Be off, 
 and don't come again till I send for you ! ' 
 
 Godwin retired without a word. On the second day 
 he was summoned back again, but his resentment of the 
 dismissal rankled in him for a long time ; injury to his 
 pride was the wrong he found it hardest to forgive. 
 
 His schoolmaster, aware of the unusual pursuits which 
 he added to the routine of lessons, gave him as a prize the 
 
BORN IN EXILE 57 
 
 English translation of a book by Figuier — The World 
 hcforc the Deluge. Strongly interested by the illustra- 
 tions of the volume (fanciful scenes from the successive 
 geologic periods), Godwin at once carried it to his scientific 
 friend. 'Deluge?' growled Mr. Gunnery. ' JFAft^ deluge? 
 Which deluge ? ' But he restrained liimself, handed the 
 book coldly back, and began to talk of something else. 
 All this was highly significant to Godwin, who of course 
 began the perusal of his prize in a suspicious mood. Nor 
 was he long before he sympathised with Mr. Gunnery's 
 distaste. Though too young to grasp the arguments at 
 issue, his prejudices were strongly excited by the conven- 
 tional Theism wdiich pervades Figuier's work. Already it 
 was the habit of his mind to associate popular dogma with 
 intellectual shallowness ; herein, as at every other point 
 which fell within his scope, he had begun to scorn average 
 people, and to pride himself intensely on views which he 
 found generally condemned. Day by day he grew into a 
 clearer understanding of the memories bequeathed to him 
 by his father; he began to interpret remarks, details of 
 behaviour, instances of wrath, which, though they had 
 stamped themselves on his recollection, conveyed at the 
 time no precise significance. The issue was that he 
 hardened himself against the influence of his mother and 
 
58 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 his aunt, regarding them as in league against the free 
 progress of liis education. 
 
 As women, again, he despised these relatives. It is 
 almost impossihle for a bright- witted lad born in the 
 lower middle class to escape this stage of development. 
 The brutally healthy boy contemns the female sex be- 
 cause he sees it incapable of his own athletic sports, but 
 Godwin was one of those upon wliose awaking intellect 
 is forced a perception of the brain-defect so general in 
 women when they are taught few of life's graces and 
 none of its serious concerns, — their paltry preposses- 
 sions, their vulgar sequaciousness, their invincible ignor- 
 ance, their absorption in a petty self. And especially is 
 this phase of thought to be expected in a boy whose 
 heart blindly nourishes the seeds of poetical passion. It 
 was Godwin's sincere belief that he held girls, as girls, in 
 abhorrence. This meant that he dreaded tlieir personal 
 criticism, and that the spectacle of female beauty some- 
 times overcame him with a despair which he could not 
 analyse. JNfatrons and elderly unmarried women were 
 truly the objects of his disdain ; in them he saw nothing 
 but their shortcomings. Towards his mother he was con- 
 scious of no tenderness ; of as little towards his sister, who 
 often censured him with trenchant tongue ; as for his 
 
BORN m EXILE 59 
 
 aunt, whose admiration of him was modified by reticences, 
 he could never be at ease in her company, so strong a 
 dislike had he for her look, her voice, her ways of speech. 
 
 He would soon be fifteen years old. Mrs. Peak was 
 growing anxious, for she could no longer consent to draw 
 upon her sister for a portion of the school fees, and no 
 pertinent suggestion for the lad's future was made by any 
 of the people who admired his cleverness. Miss Cadman 
 still clung in a fitful way to the idea of making her 
 nephew a cleric ; she had often talked it over with the 
 Misses Lumb, who of course held that ' any sacrifice ' was 
 justifiable with such a motive, and who suggested a hope 
 that, by the instrumentality of Lady Whitelaw, a curacy 
 might easily be obtained as soon as Godwin was old 
 enough. But several years must pass before that Levitical 
 stage could be reached ; and then, after all, perhaps the 
 younger boy, Oliver, placid of temper and notably pliant 
 in mind, was better suited for the dignity of Orders. 
 It was lamentable that Godwin should have become so 
 intimate with that earth-burrowing Mr. Gunnery, who 
 certainly never attended either church or chapel, and who 
 seemed to have imbued his pupil with immoral theories 
 concerning the date of creation. Godwin held more 
 decidedly aloof from his aunt, and had been heard by 
 
60 BORN IX EXILE 
 
 Charlotte to speak very disrespectfully of the blisses 
 Lumb. In short, there was no choice but to discover 
 an opening for him in some secular pursuit. Could he, 
 perhaps, become an assistant teacher ? Or must he ' go 
 into an office ' ? 
 
 No common lad. A youth whose brain glowed like a 
 furnace, whose heart throbbed with tumult of high am- 
 bitions, of inchoate desires; endowed with knowledge 
 altogether exceptional for his years ; a nature essentially 
 militant, displaying itself in innumerable forms of callow 
 intolerance — apt, assuredly, for some vigorous part in life, 
 but as likely as not to rush headlong on traverse roads if 
 no judicious mind assumed control of him. What is to 
 be done with the boy ? 
 
 All very well, if the question signified, in what way 
 to provide for the healthy development of his man- 
 hood. Of course it meant nothing of the sort, but merely : 
 What work can be found for him whereby he may earn 
 his daily bread ? We — his kinsfolk even, not to think of 
 the world at large — can have no concern with his growth 
 as an intellectual being ; we are hard pressed to supply 
 our own mouths with food ; and now that we have done 
 our recognised duty by him, it is high time that he learnt 
 to fight for his own share of provender. Happily, he is 
 
BORN IN EXILE Gl 
 
 of the robust sex ; he can hit out riglit and left, and make 
 standing-room. We have armed him with serviceable 
 weapons, and now he must use them against the enemy 
 — that is to say, against all mankind, who will quickly 
 enough deprive him of sustenance if he fail in the conflict. 
 We neither know, nor in great measure care, for what 
 employment he is naturally marked. Obviously he cannot 
 heave coals or sell dogs' meat, but with negative certainty 
 not much else can be resolved, seeing how desperate is the 
 competition for minimum salaries. He has been born, 
 and he must eat. By what licensed channel may he pro- 
 cure the necessary viands ? 
 
 Paternal relatives Godwin had as good as none. In 
 quitting London, Nicholas Peak had ceased to hold com- 
 munication with any of his own stock save the younger 
 brother Andrew. With him he occasionally exchanged a 
 letter, but Andrew's share in the correspondence was 
 limited to ungrammatical and often unintelligible hints 
 of numerous projects for money-making. Just after the 
 removal of the bereaved family to Twybridge, they were 
 surprised by a visit from Andrew, in answer to one of 
 whose letters Mrs. Peak had sent news of her husband's 
 death. Thouofh her dislike of the man amounted to loath- 
 ing, the widow could not refuse him hospitality ; she did 
 
62 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 her best, however, to prevent his eoining in contact with 
 anyone she knew. Andrew dechared tliat lie was at length 
 prospering; he had started a coffee-shop at Dalston, in 
 nortli-east London, and positively urged a proposal (well- 
 meant, beyond doubt) that Godwin sliould be allowed to 
 come to him and learn the business. Since then the 
 Londoner had once again visited Twybridge, towards the 
 end of Godwin's last school-year. This time he spoke of 
 himself less hopefully, and declared a wish to transfer his 
 business to some provincial town, where he thought his 
 metropolitan experience might be of great value, in the 
 absence of serious competition. It was not difficult to 
 discover a family likeness between Andrew's instability 
 and the idealism which had proved the ruin of Nicholas. 
 
 On this second occasion Godwin tried to escape a meet- 
 ing with his uncle. Unable to do so, he sat mute, replying 
 to questions monosyllabically. Mrs. Peak's shame and 
 annoyance, in face of this London-branded vulgarian, were 
 but feeble emotions compared with those of her son. 
 Godwin hated the man, and was in dread lest any school- 
 fellow should come to know of such a connection. Yet 
 delicacy prevented liis uttering a word on the subject 
 to his mother. Mrs. Peak's silence after Andrew's de- 
 parture made it uncertain how she regarded the obligation 
 
BORN IN EXILE G3 
 
 of kindred, and in any such matter as this the boy was 
 far too sensitive to risk giving pain. But to his brother 
 Oliver he spoke. 
 
 'What is the brute to us? When I'm a man, let him 
 venture to come near me, and see what sort of a reception 
 he'll get ! I hate low, uneducated people ! I hate them 
 worse than the filthiest vermin ! — don't you ? ' 
 
 Oliver, aged but thirteen, assented, as he habitually did 
 to any question which seemed to await an affirmative. 
 
 ' They ought to be swept off the face of the earth ! ' 
 pursued Godwin, sitting up in bed — for the dialogue took 
 place about eleven o'clock at night. 'All the grown-up 
 creatures, who can't speak proper English and don't know 
 how to behave themselves, I'd transport them to the 
 Falkland Islands,' — this geographic precision was a note 
 of the boy's mind, — ' and let them die off as soon as 
 possible. The children should be sent to school and 
 purified, if possible ; if not, they too should be got rid of.' 
 
 ' You're an aristocrat, Godwin,' remarked 01i\-er, simjDly ; 
 for the elder brother had of late been telling him fearful 
 stories from the French Ficvolution, with something of an 
 anti-popular bias. 
 
 * I hope I am. I mean to be, that's certain. There's 
 nothing I hate like vulgarity. That's why I can't stand 
 
64 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 Eoper. When lie beat nie in mathematics last mid- 
 summer, I felt so ashamed I could hardly bear myself. 
 I'm working like a nigger at algebra and Euclid this half, 
 just because I think it would almost kill me to be beaten 
 again by a low cad.' 
 
 This was perhaps the first time that Godwin found 
 expression for the prejudice which affected all his thoughts 
 and feelings. It relieved him to have spoken thus ; hence- 
 forth he had become clear as to his point of view. By 
 dubbing him aristocrat, Oliver had flattered him in the 
 subtlest w^ay. If indeed the title were justly his, as he 
 instantly felt it was, the inference was plain that he must 
 be an aristocrat of nature's own makiuQ- — one of the few 
 highly favoured beings who, in despite of circumstance, 
 are pinnacled above mankind. In his ignorance of life, 
 the boy visioned a triumphant career ; an aristocrat dc 
 jure might possibly become one even in the common sense 
 did he but pursue that end with sufficient zeal. And in 
 his power of persistent endeavour he had no lack of faith. 
 
 The next day he walked with exalted head. En- 
 countering the objectionable Eoper, he smiled upon him 
 contemptuously tolerant. 
 
 There being no hope of e fleet ive assistance from rela- 
 tives, Mrs. Peak turned for counsel to a man of business, 
 
BORN IN EXILE 65 
 
 with whom her husband had made acquaintance in his 
 farming days, and who held a position of influence at 
 Twybridge. This was Mr. Moxey, manufacturing chemist, 
 famous in the Midlands for his ' sheep and cattle 
 dressings,' and sundry other products of agricultural 
 enterprise. His ill -scented, but lucrative, works were 
 situated a mile out of the town ; and within sight of the 
 I'eeking chimneys stood a large, plain house, uncomfort- 
 ably like an ' institution ' of some kind, in which he dwelt 
 with his five daughters. Thither, one evening, Mrs. Peak 
 betook herself, having learnt that Mr. Moxey dined at 
 five o'clock, and that he was generally to be found digging 
 in his garden until sunset. Her reception w^as civil. The 
 manufacturer — sparing of w^ords, but with no unkindly 
 face — requested that Godwin should be sent to see him, 
 and promised to do his best to be of use. A talk with 
 the boy strengthened his interest. He was surprised at 
 Godwin's knowledge of chemistry, pleased with his general 
 intelligence, and in the end offered to make a place for 
 liim at the works, where, though for a year or two his 
 earnings must be small, he would gain experience likely 
 to be of substantial use to him. Godwin did not find 
 the proposal distasteful; it brought a change into his 
 life, and the excitement of novelty ; it flattered him wdtli 
 
 VOL. I. C 
 
66 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 the show of release from pupilage. To Mr. ^loxey's he 
 went. 
 
 The hours were not long, and it was understood that 
 his theoretical studies should continue in the evening. 
 Godwin's home was a very small house in a monotonous 
 little street ; a garret served as bedroom for the two boys, 
 also as the elder one's laboratory. Servant Mrs, Peak 
 had none. She managed everything herself, as in the old 
 Greenwich days, leaving Charlotte free to work at her 
 embroidery. Godwin took turns with Oliver at blacking 
 the shoes. 
 
 As a matter of course the boys accompanied their mother 
 each Sunday morning to the parish church, and this cere- 
 mony was becoming an insufferable tax on Godwin's pa- 
 tience. It was not only that he hated the name of religion, 
 and scorned with much fierceness all who came in sympa- 
 thetic contact therewith ; the loss of time seemed to him 
 an oppressive injury, especially now that he began to sutler 
 from restricted leisure. He would not refuse to obey his 
 mother's wish, but the sullenness of his Sabbatic demeanour 
 made the whole family uncomfortable. As often as 
 possible he feigned illness. He tried the effect of dolorous 
 sighs and groans ; but Mrs. Peak could not dream of con- 
 ceding a point which would have seemed to her the 
 
BORN IX EXILE 07 
 
 condonation of deadly sin. ' AVben I am a man ! ' muttered 
 Godwin. ' All ! when I am a man ! ' 
 
 A year had gone by, and the routine to which he was 
 bound began to have a servile flavour. His mind chafed 
 at subjugation to commercial interests. Sick of ' sheep and 
 cattle dressings,' he grew tired of chemistry altogether, 
 and presently of physical science in general. His evenings 
 were given to poetry and history ; he took up the classical 
 schoolbooks again, and found a charm in Latin syntax 
 hitherto unperceived. It was plain to him now how he 
 had been wronged by the necessity of leaving school when 
 his education had but just begun. 
 
 Discontent becoming ripe for utterance, he unbosomed 
 himself to Mr. Gunnery. It happened that the old man 
 had just returned from a visit to Kingsmill, where he had 
 spent a week in the museum, then newly enriched with 
 geologic specimens. After listening in silence to the 
 boy's complaints, and pondering for a long time, he began 
 to talk of Whitelaw College. 
 
 'Does it cost much to study there?' Godwin asked, 
 gloomily. 
 
 ' No great sum, I think. There are scholarships to be 
 had.' 
 
 Mr. Gunnery threw out the suggestion carelessly. 
 
68 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 Knowing the liazards of life, lie could not quite justify 
 himself in encouraging Godwin's restiveness. 
 
 * Scholarships ? For free study ? * 
 
 ' Yes ; but that wouldn't mean free livinc!:, vou know. 
 Students don't live at the College.' 
 
 * How do you go in for a scholarship ? ' 
 
 The old man replied, meditatively, ' If you were to 
 pass the Cambridge Local Examination, and to get the 
 first place in the Kingsmill district, you w'ould have three 
 years of free study at Whitelaw.' 
 
 ' Three years ? ' shouted Godwin, springing up from 
 his chair. 
 
 ' But how could you live, my boy ? ' 
 
 Godwin sat down again, and let his head fall forward. 
 
 How to keep oneself alive during a few years of intel- 
 lectual growth ? — a question often asked ])y men of mature 
 age, but seldom by a lad of sixteen. Xo matter. He 
 resolved that he would study for this Cambridge Local 
 Examination, and have a try for the scholarship. His 
 attainments were already up to the standard required for 
 average success in such competitions. On obtaining a set 
 of 'papers,' he found that they looked easy enough. 
 Could he not come out first in the Kingsmill district ? 
 
 He worked vigorously at special subjects ; aid was 
 
BORN IN EXILE 69 
 
 needless, but lie wished for more leisure. Not a word to 
 any member of his household. When his mother dis- 
 covered that he was reading in the bedroom till long past 
 midnight, she made serious objection on the score of 
 health and on that of gas bills. Godwin quietly asserted 
 that work he must, and that if necessary he would buy 
 candles out of his pocket-money. He had unexpectedly 
 become more grave, more restrained ; he even ceased to 
 grumble about going to church, having found that service 
 tiuie could be utilised for committing to memory lists of 
 dates and the like, jotted down on a slip of paper. When 
 the time for the examination drew near, he at length told 
 his mother to what end he had been labouring, and asked 
 her to grant him the assistance necessary for his journey 
 and the sojourn at iCingsmill ; the small sum he had been 
 able to save, after purchase of books, would not suffice. 
 Mrs. Peak knew not wdiether to approve her son's ambition 
 or to try to repress it. She would welcome an improval in 
 his prospects, but, granting success, how was he to live 
 whilst profiting by a scholarship ? And again, what did 
 he propose to make of himself when he had spent three 
 years in study ? 
 
 'In any case,' was Godwin's reply, *I should be sure of 
 a good place as a teacher. But I think I might try for 
 
70 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 sonietliiiig in the Civil Service ; there are all sorts of 
 positions to be got/ 
 
 It was idle to discuss the future whilst tlie first step 
 was still speculative. Mrs. Peak consented to favour the 
 attempt, and what was more to keep it a secret until the 
 issue should be known. It was needful to oljtain leave of 
 absence from Mr. Moxey, and Godwin, when making the 
 request, stated for what purpose he was going to Kings- 
 mill, though without explaining the hope which had 
 encouraged his studies. The project seemed laudable, 
 and his employer made no difficulties. 
 
 Godwin just missed the scholarship; of candidates in 
 the prescribed district, he came out second. 
 
 Grievous was the disappointment. To come so 
 near success exasperated his impatient temper, and for 
 a few days his bondage at the chemical works seemed 
 intolerable; he was ready for almost any venture that 
 promised release and new scope for his fretting energies. 
 But at the moment when nervous irritation was most 
 acute, a remarkable act of kindness suddenly restored to 
 Iiim all the hopes he had abandoned. One Saturday 
 afternoon he was sunnnoned from his surly retreat in tlie 
 garret, to speak with a visitor. On entering the sitting- 
 room, he found his mother in company with Miss Cadnian 
 
BOEN IN EXILE 71 
 
 and the Misses Lunib, and from the last-mentioned ladies, 
 who spoke with amiable alternation, he learnt that they 
 were commissioned by Sir Job Whitelaw to offer for his 
 acceptance a three-years' studentship at "Whitelaw College. 
 Affected by her son's chagrin, Mrs. Peak had disclosed 
 the story to her sister, who had repeated it to the Misses 
 Lumb, who in turn had made it the subject of a letter to 
 Lady Whitelaw. It was an annual practice with Sir Job 
 to discover some promising lad whom he could benefit by 
 the payment of his fees for a longer or shorter period of 
 college study. The hint from Twybridge came to him just 
 at the suitable time, and, on further inquiry, he decided 
 to make proffer of this advantage to Godwin Peak. The 
 only condition was that arrangements should be made by 
 the student's relatives for his support during the proposed 
 period. 
 
 This generosity took away Godwin's breath. The ex- 
 penditure it represented was trifling, but from a stranger 
 in Sir Job's position it had something which recalled to 
 so fervent a mind the poetry of Medicean patronnge. For 
 the moment no faintest doubt gave warning to his self- 
 respect; he was eager to accept nobly a benefaction 
 nobly intended. 
 
 Miss Cadman, flattered by Sir Job's attention to lier 
 
72 BORN IX EXILE 
 
 nephew, now came forward witli an offer to contiibute 
 towards Godwin's livelihood. Her supplement would eke 
 into aderpiacy such slender allowance as tlie widow's 
 purse could afford. Details were privately discussed, 
 resolves were taken. JMr. Moxey, when it was made 
 known to him, without explanation, that Godwin was to 
 be sent to Whitelaw College, behaved with kindness; he 
 at once released the lad, and added a present to the salary 
 that was due. Proper acknowledgment of the Baronet's 
 kindness was made by the beneficiary himself, who wrote 
 a letter giving trner testimony of his mental calibre than 
 would have been offered had he expressed himself l)y 
 word of mouth. A genial reply summoned him to an 
 interview as soon as he should have found an abode in 
 Kingsmill. The lodging he had occupied during the 
 examination was permanently secured, and a new period 
 of Godwin's life began. 
 
 For two years, that is to say until his age drew towards 
 nineteen, Peak pursued the Arts curriculum at Whitelaw. 
 His mood on entering decided his choice, which was left 
 free to him. Experience of utilitarian chemistry had for 
 the present made his liberal tastes predominant, and 
 neither the splendid laboratories of AVhitelaw nor the 
 repute of its scientific Professors tempted him to what 
 
BORN IN EXILE "73 
 
 had once seemed his natural direction. In the second 
 year, however, he enlarged his course by the addition of 
 one or two classes not included in Sir Job's design ; these 
 were paid for out of a present made to him by Mr. 
 Gunnery. 
 
 It being customary for the regular students of White- 
 law to graduate at London University, Peak passed his 
 matriculation, and worked on for the preliminary test 
 then known as First B.A. In the meanwhile he rose 
 steadily, achieving distinction in the College. The more 
 observant of his teachers remarked him even where he 
 fell short of academic triumph, and among his fellow- 
 students he had the name of a stern 'sweater,' one not 
 easily beaten where he had set his mind on excelling. 
 He was not generally liked, for his mood appeared 
 unsocial, and a repelling arrogance was sometimes felt in 
 his talk. Xo doubt — said the more fortunate young 
 men — he came from a very poor home, and suffered from 
 the narrowness of his means. They noticed that he did 
 not subscribe to the Collesre Union, and that he could 
 never join in talk regarding the diversions of the town. 
 His two or three intimates were chosen from among those 
 contemporaries who read hard and dressed poorly. 
 
 The details of Godwin's private life w^ere noteworthy. 
 
74 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 Accustomed hitherto to a domestic circle, at Kingsmill he 
 found himself isolated, and it was not easy for him to 
 surrender all at once tlie comforts of home. Tor a time 
 he felt as though his ambition were a delinquency which 
 entailed the punishment of loneliness. Xor did his 
 relations with Sir Job Whitelaw tend to mitigate this 
 feeling. In his first interview with the Baronet, Godwin 
 showed to little advantage. A deadly bash fulness forbade 
 him to be natural either in attitude or speech. He felt his 
 dependence in a way he had not foreseen ; the very clothes 
 he wore, then fresh from the tailor's, seemed to be the 
 gift of charity, and their stiffness shamed him. A man 
 of the world. Sir Job could make allowance for these 
 defects. He understood that the truest kindness would 
 be to leave a youth such as this to the forming influences 
 of the College. So Godwin barely had a glimpse of Lady 
 Whitelaw in her husband's study, and thereafter for 
 many months he saw nothing of his benefactors. Subse- 
 quently he was twice invited to interviews with Sir Job, 
 who talked with kindness and commendation. Then 
 came the Baronet's death. Godwin received an assurance 
 that this event would be no check upon his career, 
 but he neither saw nor hoard directly from Lady 
 Whitelaw. 
 
BORN IN EXILE "75 
 
 Not a house in Kingsmill opened hospitable doors to the 
 lonely student ; nor was anyone to blame for this. With 
 no family had he friendly acquaintance. When, towards 
 tlie end of his second year, he grew sufficiently intimate 
 with Buckland Warricombe to walk out with him to 
 Thornhaw, it could be nothing more than a scarcely 
 welcome exception to the rule of solitude. Impossible for 
 him to cultivate the friendship of such people as the 
 Warricombes, with their large and joyous scheme of life. 
 Only at a hearth where homeliness and cordiality united 
 to unthaw his proud reserve could Godwin perchance 
 have found the companionship he needed. Many such 
 homes existed in Kingsmill, but no kindly fortune led the 
 young man within the sphere of their warmth. 
 
 His lodgings were in a very ugly street in the ugliest 
 outskirts of the town ; he had to take a long walk through 
 desolate districts (brick -yard, sordid pasture, degenerate 
 village) before he could refresh his eyes with the rural 
 scenery which was so great a joy to him as almost to be 
 a necessity. The immediate vicinage offered nothing but 
 monotone of grimy, lower middle-class dwellings, occasion- 
 ally relieved by a public-house. He occupied two rooms, 
 not unreasonably clean, and was seldom disturbed by the 
 attentions of his landlady. 
 
76 BOEN IN EXILE 
 
 An impartial observer niiglit have wondered at the 
 neejlicjence whieli left him to arrange liis life as best he 
 could, notwitlistandiiig youth and utter inexperience. It 
 looked indeed as if there were no one in the world who 
 cared what became of him. Yet this was merely the result 
 of his mother's circumstances, and of his own cliaracter. 
 Mrs. Peak could do no more than make her small remit- 
 tances, and therewith send an occasional admonition re- 
 garding his health. She did not, in fact, conceive the state 
 of things, imagining that the authority and supervisal of 
 the College extended over her son's daily existence, whereas 
 it was possible for Godwin to frequent lectures or not, 
 to study or to waste his time, pretty much as he chose, 
 subject only to official inquiry if his attendance became 
 frequently irregular. His independent temper, and the 
 seeming maturity of his mind, supplied another excuse for 
 the imprudent confidence wdiich left him to his own re- 
 sources. Yet the perils of the situation were great indeed. 
 A youth of less concentrated purpose, more at the mercy 
 of casual allurement, would probably have gone to wreck 
 amid trials so exceptional. 
 
 Trials not only of his moral nature. The sums of money 
 with which he was furnished fell short of a reasonable 
 total for bare necessities. In the calculation made by 
 
BORN m EXILE 77 
 
 Mrs. Peak and her sister, outlay on books had practically 
 been lost sight of ; it was presumed that ten shillings a 
 term would cover this item. But Godwin could not con- 
 sent to be at a disadvantage in his armoury for academic 
 contest. The first month saw him compelled to contract 
 his diet, that he might purcliase books ; thenceforth he 
 rarely had enough to eat. His landlady supplied him 
 with breakfast, tea, and supper — each repast of the very 
 simplest kind; for dinner it was understood that he re- 
 paired to some public table, where meat and vegetables, 
 with perchance a supplementary sweet when nature 
 demanded it, might be had for about a shilling. That 
 sliilling was not often at his disposal. Dinner as it is 
 understood by the comfortably clad, the ' regular meal ' 
 which is a part of English respectability, came to be repre- 
 sented by a small pork-pie, or even a couple of buns, 
 eaten at the little shop over against the College. After a 
 long morning of mental application this was poor refresh- 
 ment ; the long afternoon which followed, again spent in 
 rigorous study, could not but reduce a growing frame to 
 ravenous hunger. Tea and buttered bread were the means 
 of appeasing it, until another four hours' work called for 
 reward in the shape of bread and cheese. Even yet the 
 day's toil was not ended. Godwin sometimes read long 
 
78 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 after midiiiglit, v.itli tlie result that, wlien at length he 
 tried to sleep, exhaustion of mind and body kept him fur 
 a long time feverishly wakeful. 
 
 These hardships he concealed from the peo[)le at Twy- 
 Lridge. Complaint, it seemed to him, would be ungrateful, 
 for sacrifices were already made on his behalf. His father, 
 as he well remembered, was wont to relate, with a kind of 
 angry satisfaction, the miseries through which he had 
 fought his way to education and the income-tax. Old 
 enough now to reflect with compassionate understanding 
 upon that life of conflict, Godwin resolved that he too 
 would bear the burdens inseparable from poverty, and in 
 some moods was even glad to suffer as his father had done. 
 Fortunately he had a sound basis of health, and hunger 
 ami vigils would not easily affect his constitution. If, 
 thus hampered, he could outstrip competitors who had 
 every advantage of circumstance, the more glorious his 
 triumph. 
 
 Sunday was an interval of leisure. Ilejoicing in de- 
 liverance from Sabbatarianism, he generally spent the 
 morning in a long walk, and the rest of the day was 
 devoted to non-collegiate reading. lie had subscribed to 
 a circulating library, and thus obtained new publications 
 recommended to him in the literary paper which again 
 
BORN IN EXILE 79 
 
 taxed his stomach. Mere class-work did not satisfy him. 
 He was possessed with throes of spiritual desire, impelling 
 him towards that world of unfettered speculation which 
 he had long indistinctly imagined. It was a great thing 
 to learn what the past could teach, to set himself on tlie 
 common level of intellectual men ; but he understood that 
 college learning could not be an end in itself, tliat the 
 Professors to whom he listened either did not speak out 
 all that was in their minds, or, if they did, were far from 
 representing the adv^anced guard of modern thought. 
 AVith eagerness he at length betook himself to the teachers 
 of philosophy and of geology. Having paid for these 
 lectures out of his own pocket, he felt as if he had won 
 a privilege beyond tlie conventional course of study, an 
 initiation to a higher sphere of intellect. The result was 
 disillusion. Xot even in these class-rooms could he hear 
 the word for which he waited, the bold annunciation of 
 newly discovered law, the science which liad completely 
 broken with tradition. He came away unsatisfied, and 
 brooded upon the possibilities which would open for him 
 when he was no longer dependent. 
 
 His evening work at home was subject to a disturbance 
 which would have led him to seek other lodgings, could he 
 have hoped to find any so cheap as these. The landlady's 
 
80 BORX IX EXILE 
 
 son, a lank youtli of tlie clerk species, was wont to amuse 
 himself from eight to ten witli practice on a piano. By 
 dint of perseverance he liad learned to strum two or three 
 hymnal melodies popularised by American evangelists ; 
 occasionally he even added the charm of his voice, whicli 
 had a pietistic nasality not easily endured by an ear of any 
 refinement. Not only was Godwin harassed by the recur- 
 rence of these performances ; the tunes worked themselves 
 into his brain, and sometimes throughout a whole day 
 their burden clanged and squalled incessantly on his 
 mental hearing. lie longed to entreat forbearance from 
 the musician, but an excess of delicacy — which always 
 ruled his behaviour — kept liim silent. Certain passages 
 in the classics, and many an elaborate mathematical 
 formula, long retained for liim an association witli the 
 cadences of revivalist hymnody. 
 
 Like all proud natures condemned to solitude, he tried 
 to convince himself that lie had no need of society, that 
 he despised its attractions, and coidd be self-suthcing. So 
 far was this from the trutli that he often regarded with 
 bitter envy those of his fellow-students who had the social 
 air, who conversed freely among their equals, and showed 
 that the pursuits of the College were only a part of their 
 existence. These young men were either preparing for 
 
BORX IX EXILK 81 
 
 the University, or would pass from AVbitelaw to business, 
 profession, official training ; in any case, a track was 
 marked out for tliem by the zealous care of relatives and 
 friends, and their efforts would always be aided, applauded, 
 by a kindly circle. Some of them Godwin could not but 
 admire, so healthful were they, so bright of intellect, and 
 courteous in manner, — a type distinct from any he had 
 formerly observed. Others were antipathetic to him. 
 Their aggressive gentility conflicted with the wariness of 
 Ill's self-esteem ; such a one, for instance, as Bruno Chilvers, 
 the sound of whose mincing voice, as he read in the class, 
 so irritated him that at times he had to cover his ears. 
 Yet, did it chance that one of these offensive youths ad- 
 dressed a civil word to him, on the instant his prejudice 
 was disarmed, and his emotions flowed forth in a response 
 to which he would gladly have given free expression. 
 When lie was invited to iv^eet the relatives of Buckland 
 Warricombe, shyness prepossessed him against them ; but 
 tlie frank kindness of his reception moved him, and on 
 going away he was ashamed to have replied so boorishly 
 to attentions so amiably meant. The same note of char- 
 acter sounded in wdiat personal intercourse he had with 
 the Professors. Tliough his spirit of criticism was at times 
 busy with these gentknien, he had for most of them a 
 
 VOL. I. 6 
 
82 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 profound regard; and to Lo elected by one or other fur a 
 word of commendation, a little private assistance, a well- 
 l>hrased inquiry as to his progress, always made his heart 
 beat high with gratitude. They were his first exemplars 
 of finislied courtesy, of delicate culture; and he could 
 never sufficiently regret that no one of them was aware 
 how thankfully he recognised his debt. 
 
 In longing for the intimacy of refined people, he began 
 to modify his sentiments with regard to the female sex. 
 His first prize-day at Whitelaw was the first occasion on 
 which he sat in an assembly where ladies (as he under- 
 stood the title) could be seen and heard. The impression 
 he received was deep and lasting. On the seat behind 
 him were two "iris whose intermittent talk held him with 
 irresistible charm throughout the whole ceremony. He 
 had not imagined that girls could display such intelligence, 
 and the sweet clearness of their intonation, the purity of 
 their accent, the grace of their habitual phrases, were 
 things altogether beyond his experience. This was not 
 the English he had been wont to hear on female lips. 
 His mother and his aunt spoke with propriety ; their 
 associates were soft-tongued ; but here was something 
 quite different from inoftensiveness of tone and diction. 
 Godwin appreciated the differentiating cause. These 
 
BORN IN EXILE 83 
 
 young ladies behind him had been trained from the cradle 
 to speak for the delight of fastidious ears ; that they should 
 be grammatical was not enough — they must excel in the 
 art of conversational music. Of course there existed a 
 world where only such speech was interchanged, and how 
 inestimably happy those men to whom the sphere was 
 native ! 
 
 AVhen the proceedings were over, he drew aside and 
 watched the two girls as they mingled with acquaintances ; 
 he kept them in view until they left the College. An 
 emotion such as this he had never known ; for the first 
 time in his life he was humiliated without embitterment. 
 
 The bitterness came when he had returned to his home 
 in the back street of Twybridge, and was endeavouring to 
 spend the holidays in a hard 'grind.' He loathed the 
 penurious simplicity to which his life was condemned ; all 
 familiar circumstances were become petty, coarse, vulgar, 
 in his eyes ; the contrast with the idealised world of his 
 ambition plunged him into despair. Even Mr. Gunnery 
 seemed an ignoble figure when compared with the Pro- 
 fessors of Whitelaw, and his authority in the sciences was 
 now subjected to doubt. However much or little might 
 result from the three years at college, it was clear to 
 Godwin that his former existence had passed into infinite 
 
^i BORN IN P:XILE 
 
 remotencsss ; lie was no longer fit for T\vyl)riclge, no longer 
 a companion for Lis kindred. Oliver, whose dulness as a 
 schoolboy gave no promise of future achievements, was 
 now learning the business of a seedsman ; his brother 
 felt ashamed when he saw him at work in the shop, and 
 had small patience with the comrades to whom Oliver 
 dedicated his leisure. Charlotte was estranged by re- 
 ligious differences. Only for his mother did the young 
 man show increased consideration. To his aunt he en- 
 deavoured to be grateful, but his behaviour in her presence 
 was elaborate hypocrisy. Hating the necessity for this, he 
 laid the blame on fortune, wdiich had decreed his birth in 
 a social sphere wdierc he must ever be an alien. 
 
Ill 
 
 AVrni the growth of his militant egoism, there had 
 developed in Godwin Peak an excess of nervous sensibility 
 which threatened to deprive his character of the initiative 
 rightly belonging to it. Self-assertion is the practical 
 complement of self-esteem. To be largely endowed with 
 tlie latter quality, yet constrained by a coward delicacy to 
 repress it, is to suffer martyrdom at the pleasure of every 
 robust assailant, and in the end be driven to the refuge of 
 a moody solitude. That encounter with his objectionable 
 uncle after the prize distribution at Whitelaw showed how 
 much Godwin had lost of the natural vigour wdiich declared 
 itself at Andrew Peak's second visit to Twybridge, when 
 the boy certainly would not have endured his uncle's 
 presence but for hospitable considerations and the respect 
 due to his mother. The decision with which he then un- 
 bosomed himself to Oliver, still characterised his thoughts, 
 
 85 
 
86 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 but he had not courage to elude the dialogue forced upon 
 him, still less to make known his resentment of the man's 
 offensive vulgarity. He endured in silence, his heart afire 
 with scornful wrath. 
 
 The affliction could not have befallen him at a time 
 when he was less capable of supporting it resignedly. 
 Notwithstanding his noteworthy success in two classes, it 
 seemed to him that he had lost everything — that the day 
 was one of signal and disgraceful defeat. In any case that 
 sequence of second prizes must have filled him wiih 
 chagrin, but to be beaten thus repeatedly by such a fellow 
 as Bruno Chilvers was humiliation intolerable. A fopling, 
 a mincer of effeminate English, a rote-repeater of academic 
 catch-words — bah ! The by-examinations of the year had 
 whispered presage, but Peak always felt that he was not 
 imtting forth his strength ; when the serious trial came he 
 would show what was really in him. Too late he recog- 
 nised his error, though he tried not to admit it. The extra 
 subjects had exacted too much of him; there was a limit 
 to his powers. Within the College this would be well 
 enough understood, but to explain a disagreeable fact is 
 not to change it; his name Avas written in pitiful sub- 
 ordination. And as for the public assembly — he would 
 have sacrificed some years of his life to have stepped 
 
BORN IN EXILE 87 
 
 forward in facile supremacy, beneath the eyes of those 
 clustered ladies. Instead of that, they had looked upon 
 his shame ; they had interchanged glances of amusement at 
 each repetition of his defeat ; had murmured comments in 
 their melodious speech ; had ended by losing all interest in 
 him — as intuition apprised him was the wont of women. 
 
 As soon as he had escaped from his uncle, he relapsed 
 into musing upon the position to which he was condemned 
 when the new session came round. Ai]jain Chilvers would 
 be in the same classes with him, and, as likely as not, with 
 the same result. In the meantime, they were both 'going 
 in' for the First B.A. ; he had no fear of failure, but it 
 might easily happen that Chilvers would achieve higher 
 distinction. With an eye to awards that might be won — 
 substantial cash-annuities — he was readinoj for Honours ; 
 but it seemed doubtful whether he could present himself, 
 as the second examination was held only in London. 
 Chilvers would of course be an Honours candidate. He 
 would smile — confound him ! — at an objection on the score 
 of the necessary journey to London. Better to refrain 
 altoG^ether than acjain to see Chilvers come out ahead. 
 General surprise would naturally be excited, questions 
 asked on all hands. How would it sound : ' I simply 
 couldn't afford to go up ' ? 
 
88 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 At this point of the meditation lie had reached his 
 lodgings; he admitted himself with a latch-key, turned 
 into his murky sitting-room, and sat down. 
 
 The table was laid for tea, as nsual. Though he miglit 
 have gone to Twybridge this evening, he had preferred to 
 stay overnight, for an odd reason. At a tlieatre in Kings- 
 mill a London company, headed by an actress of some 
 distinction, was to perform ' Eomeo and Juliet,' and he 
 purposed granting himself tliis indulgence before leaving 
 the town. The plan was made when his eye fell upon the 
 advertisement, a few days ago. He then believed it probable 
 that an evenilig at the theatre would appropriately follow 
 upon a day of victory. His interest in the performance 
 had collapsed, but he did not care to alter his arrangements. 
 
 The landlady came in bearing the tea-pot. He wanted 
 nothing, yet could not exert himself to say so. 
 
 But he was losing sight of a menace more formidable 
 than defeat bv Chilvers. AVhat was it his blacks]:uard 
 uncle had said ? Had the fellow really threatened to 
 start an eating-house opposite the College, and flare his 
 name upon a placard ? * Peak's Dining and Eefreshment 
 Itooms ' — merciful heavens ! 
 
 Again the mood of laughter came upon him. Why, 
 here was a solution of all dithculties, as simple as unantici- 
 
BORN IN EXILE 89 
 
 pated. If indeed that awful thing caine to pass, farewell 
 to Whitelaw ! What possibility of pursuing his studies 
 when every class-companion, every Professor, — nay, the 
 very porters, — had become aware that he \vas nephew to 
 the man who supplied meals over the way ? Moral philo- 
 sophy had no prophylactic against an ordeal such as tliis. 
 Could the most insignificant lad attending lectures afford 
 to disregard such an occasion of ridicule and contempt ? 
 
 But tlie scheme would not be realised ; it sounded too 
 unlikely. Andrew Peak was merely a loose-minded vaga- 
 bond, who might talk of this and that project for making 
 money, but would certainly never quit his dirty haunts in 
 London. Godwin asked himself angrily why he had sub- 
 mitted to the fellow's companionship. This absurd delicacy 
 must be corrected before it became his tyrant. The idea 
 of scrupling to hurt the sensibilities of Andrew Peak ! 
 The man was coarse-hided enough to undergo kicking, and 
 then take sixpence in compensation, — not a doubt of it. 
 This detestable tie of kindred must no longer be recog- 
 nised. He would speak gravely to his mother about it. If 
 Andrew again presented himself at the house he should 
 be given plainly to understand that his visits were some- 
 thing less than welcome, — if necessary, a downright blunt 
 word must effect their liberation. Godwin felt strong 
 
90 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 enough for that, musing here alone. And, student-like, he 
 passed on to debate the theory of the problem. Andrew 
 was his father's brother, but what is a mere tie of blood if 
 nature has alienated two persons by a subtler distinction ? 
 By the dead man, Andrew had never been loved or 
 esteemed; memory supplied proof of this. The widow 
 shrank from him. No obligation of any kind lay upon 
 them to tolerate the London ruffian. — Enough ; he should 
 be got rid of ! 
 
 Alternating his causes of misery, which — he could not 
 quite forget — might blend for the sudden transformation 
 of his life, Godwin let the tea grow cold upon the table, 
 until it was time, if he still meant to visit the theatre, for 
 setting forth. He had no mind to go, but as little to sit 
 here and indulge harassing reflection. With an effort, lie 
 made ready and left the house. 
 
 The cost of his seat at the theatre was two shillings. 
 So nicely had he adjusted the expenses of these last days 
 that, after paying the landlady's bill to-morrow morning, 
 tliere would remain to him but a few pence more than the 
 money needed for his journey home. Walking into the 
 town, he debated with himself whether it were not better 
 to save this florin. But as he approached the pit door, 
 the spirit of pleasure revived in him ; lie had seen but one 
 
BORN IN EXILE 91 
 
 of Shakespeare's plays, and lie believed (naturally at his 
 age) that to see a drama acted was necessary for its full 
 appreciation. Sidling with affected indifference, he added 
 himself to the crowd. 
 
 To stand thus, expectant of the opening doors, troubled 
 him wdth a sense of shame. To be sure he was in the 
 spiritual company of Charles Lamb, and of many another 
 man of brains who has waited under the lamp. But contact 
 with the pittites of Kingsmill offended his instincts; lie 
 resented this appearance of inferiority to people wdio came 
 at their leisure, and took seats in the better parts of the 
 house. When a neighbour addressed him with a meaning- 
 less joke which defied grammar, he tried to grin a friendly 
 answer, but inwardly shrank. The events of the day had 
 increased his sensibility to such impressions. Had he 
 triumphed over Bruno Chilvers, he could have behaved 
 this evening with a larger humanity. 
 
 The fight for entrance — honest British stupidity, crush- 
 ing ribs and rending garments in preference to seemly 
 order of progress — enlivened him somewhat, and sent him 
 laughing to his conquered place; but before the curtain 
 rose he was again depressed by the sight of a familiar 
 figure in the stalls, a fellow-student who sat there witli 
 mother and sister, black-uniformed, looking very much a 
 
92 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 gentleman. ' 1, of course, am not a gentleman,' he said to 
 liimself, gloomily. Was there any chance that he miglit 
 some day take his ease in that orthodox fashion ? Inas- 
 much as it was conventionality, he scorned it ; hut the 
 privileges which it represented had strong control of his 
 imagination. That lady and her daughter would follow 
 the play with intelligence. To exchange comments witli 
 them would he a keen delight. As for him — he had a 
 shop-hoy on one hand and a grocer's wife on the other. 
 
 By the end he had fallen into fatigue. Amid clamour 
 of easily-won applause he made his way into the street, 
 to find himself in a heavy downpour of rain. Having no 
 umhrella, he looked about for a sheltered station, and the 
 glare of a neighbouring public-house caught his eye ; he 
 was thirsty, and might as well refresh body and spirit with 
 a glass of beer, an unwonted indulgence which had the 
 pleasant semblance of dissipation. Arrived at the bar he 
 came upon two acquaintances, who, to judge by their 
 flushed cheeks and excited voices, had been celebratinc: 
 jovially the close of their academic lal)ours. They 
 liailed him. 
 
 ' Hollo, Peak ! Come and help us to get sober before 
 bedtime ! * 
 
 They were not exactly studious youths, but neither did 
 
BORN IN EXILK 03 
 
 they belong to the class that Godwin (.lespised, and he had 
 a comrade-like feeling for them. In a few minutes his 
 demeanour was wholly changed. A glass of hot whisky 
 acted promptly upon his nervous system, enabled him to 
 forget vexations, and attuned him to kindred sprightliness. 
 He entered merrily into tlie talk of a time of life which is 
 independent of morality — talk distinct from that of the 
 blackguard, but equally so from that of the reflective man. 
 His first glass had several successors. The trio rambled 
 arm in arm from one place of refreshment to another, and 
 presently sat down in hearty fellowship to a supper of such 
 viands as recommend themselves at bibulous midnight. 
 Peak was drawing recklessly upon the few coins that 
 remained to him ; he must leave his landlady's claim 
 undischarged, and send the money from home. Prudence 
 be hanged ! If one cannot taste amusement once in a 
 twelvemonth, why live at all ? 
 
 He reached his lodgings, at something after one o'clock 
 drenched with rain, gloriously indifferent to that and all 
 other chances of life. Pooh ! his system had been radically 
 wrong. He should have allowed himself recreation once a 
 week or so ; he would have been all the better for it, body 
 and mind. Books and that kind of thing are all very 
 well in their wav, but one must live ; he had wasted too 
 
94: BORN IN EXILE 
 
 much of his youth in solitude. mild prccteritos referat 
 si Jupiter annos ! Next session lie would arrang(3 things 
 better. Success in examinations — what trivial fuss when 
 one looked at it from the right point of view ! And he 
 had fretted himself into miserv, because Chilvers had crot 
 more ' marks/ — ha, ha, ha ! J. 
 
 The morrow's waking was lugubrious enough. Headache 
 and nausea weighed upon him. AVorse still, a scrutiny of 
 his pockets showed that he had only the shamefaced change 
 of half-a-crovvn wherewith to transpart himself and liis 
 belongings to Twybridge. Now, the railway fare alone was 
 three shillings ; the needful cab demanded eighteenpence. 
 O idiot ! 
 
 And he hated the thought of leaving his bill unpaid ; the 
 more so because it was a trifling sum, a week's settlement. 
 To put himself under however brief an obligation to a 
 woman such as the landlady gnawed at his pride. Not 
 that only. He had no business to make a demand upon his 
 mother for this additional sum. But there was no way 
 of raising the money ; no one of whom he could borrow 
 it ; nothing he could afford to sell — even if courage had 
 supported him through such a transaction. Triple idiot ! 
 
 Bread turned to bran upon his hot palate ; he could only 
 swallow cups of coffee. With trembling hands he finished 
 
BORN IN EXILE 95 
 
 tlie packing of his box and portmanteau, then braced 
 liimself to the dreaded interview. Of course, it involved 
 no difficulty, the words once uttered ; but, when he was 
 left alone again, he paced the room for a few minutes in 
 Hush of mortification. It had made his headache worse. 
 
 The nipde of his homeward journey he had easily 
 arranged. Ilis baggage having been labelled for Twy- 
 bridge, he himself would book as far as his money allowed, 
 then proceed on foot for the remaining distance. With 
 the elevenpence now in his pocket he could purchase a 
 ticket to a little town called Dent, and by a calculation 
 from the railway tariff he concluded that from Dent to 
 Twybridge was some five-and-twenty miles. Well and good. 
 At the rate of four miles an hour it would take him from 
 half-past eleven to about six o'clock. He could certainly 
 reach home in time for supper. 
 
 At Dent station, ashamed to ask (like a tramp) the way 
 to so remote a place as Twybridge, he jotted down a list 
 of intervening railway stoppages, and thus was enabled to 
 support the semblance of one who strolls on for his pleasure. 
 A small hand-bag he was obliged to carry, and the clouded 
 sky made his umbrella a requisite. On he trudged steadily, 
 ioT the most part by muddy ways, now through a pleasant 
 village, now in rural solitude. He had had the precaution, 
 
96 BORN IX EXILE 
 
 at brcakfust time, to store some pieces of bread in liis 
 pocket, and after two or three liours this resource was 
 welcome. Happily the air and exercise lielped him to get 
 rid of his headache. A burst of sunsliine in the afternoon 
 would have made him reasonably cheerful, but for the 
 wretched meditations surviving from yesterday. 
 
 He pondered frecpiently on his spasmodic debauch, 
 repeating, as well as memory permitted, all his absurdities 
 of speech and action. Defiant self-justification was now 
 far to seek. On the other hand, he perceived very 
 clearly how easy it would be for him to lapse by degrees 
 of weakened will into a ruinous dissoluteness. Anything 
 of that kind would mean, of course, the abandonment of 
 his ambitions. All he had to fight the world with was his 
 brain ; and only by incessant strenuousness in its exercise 
 had he achieved the moderate prominence declared in 
 yesterday's ceremony. By birth, by station, he was of no 
 account; if he chose to sink, no influential voice would 
 deplore his falling off or remind him of what he owed to 
 himself. Chilvers, now — wdiat a wide-spreading outcry, 
 what calling upon gods and men, would be excited by any 
 defection of that brilliant youth ! Godwin Peak must 
 make his own career, and that he would hardly do save by 
 efforts greater than the ordinary man can put forth. The 
 
BORN IN EXILE 97 
 
 ordinary man ? — Was he in any respect extraordinary ? 
 were his powers noteworthy ? It was the first time that 
 he had dehberately posed this question to himself, and for 
 answer came a rush of confident blood, pulsing through all 
 the mechanism of his being. 
 
 The train of thought which occupied him during this 
 long trudge was to remain fixed in his memory ; in any 
 survey of the years of pupilage this recollection w^ould 
 stand prominently forth, associated, moreover, with one 
 slight incident which at the time seemed a mere inter- 
 ruption of his musing. From a point on the high-road he 
 observed a small quarry, so excavated as to present an 
 interesting section ; though weary, he could not but turn 
 aside to examine these strata. He knew enough of the 
 geology of the county to recognise the rocks and reflect 
 with understanding upon their position ; a fragment in his 
 hand, he sat down to rest for a moment. Then a stran2;e 
 fit of brooding came over him. Escaping from the influences 
 of personality, his imagination wrought back through eras 
 of geologic time, held him in a vision of the infinitely 
 remote, shrivelled into insignificance all but the one fact 
 of inconceivable duration. Often as he had lost himself in 
 such reveries, never yet had he passed so wholly under the 
 dominion of that awe which attends a sudden triumph of 
 
 VOL. I. 7 
 
98 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 tlie pure intellect. When at lengtli he rose, it was with 
 wide, blank eyes, and limbs partly numbed. These needed 
 half-an-hour's walking before he could recover liis mood of 
 practical self-search. 
 
 Until the last moment he could not decide whether to 
 let his mother know how he had reached Twy bridge. His 
 arrival corresponded pretty well with that of a train by 
 which he might have come. But when the door opened 
 to him, and the familiar faces smiled their welcome, he 
 felt that he must have nothing to do with paltry deceit ; 
 he told of his walk, explaining it by the simple fact that 
 this morning he had found himself short of money. How 
 that came to pass, no one inquired. Mrs. Peak, shocked 
 at such martyrdom, tended him with all motherly care ; 
 for once, Godwin felt that it was good to have a home, 
 however simple. 
 
 This amiable frame of mind was not likely to last 
 beyond the first day. Matter of irritation soon enough 
 offered itself, as was invariably the case at Twybridge. 
 It was pleasant enough to be feted as the hero of the 
 family, to pull out a Kingsmill newspaper and exhibit the 
 full report of prize-day at Whitelaw, with his own name, 
 in very small type, demanding the world's attention, and 
 finally to exhibit the volumes in tree-calf which his friend 
 
BORN IN EXILE 99 
 
 the librarian had forwarded to him. Lut domestic circum- 
 stances soon made assault upon his nerves, and trial of 
 his brief patience. 
 
 First of all, there came an unexpected disclosure. His 
 sister Charlotte had athanced herself to a young man of 
 Twybridge, one Mr Cusse, whose prospects were as slender 
 as his present means. Mrs. Peak spoke of tlie affair in 
 liuslied privacy, with shaking of tlie head and frequent 
 sighs, for to her mind Mr. Cusse had few even personal 
 recommendations. He was a draper's assistant. Charlotte 
 had made his acquaintance on occasions of church festivity, 
 and urged the fact of his zeal in Sunday-school tuition as 
 sufficient reply to all doubts. As he listened, Godwin bit 
 his lips. 
 
 ' Does he come here, then ? ' was his inquiry. 
 
 * Once or twice a week. I haven't felt able to say any- 
 thing against it, Godwin. I suppose it will be a very long 
 engagement.' 
 
 Charlotte was just twenty-two, and it seemed probable 
 that she knew her own mind ; in any case, she was of a 
 character which would only be driven to obstinacy by 
 adverse criticism. Godwin learnt that his aunt Emily 
 (Miss Cadman) regarded this connection with serious 
 disapproval. Herself a shopkeeper, she might have been 
 
100 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 expected to sliow indulgence to a draper's assistant, but, so 
 far from tliis, her view of Mr. Cusse was severely scornful. 
 She had nourished far other hopes for Charlotte, wlio 
 surely at her age (Miss Cadman looked from the eminence 
 of five-and-forty) should have been less precipitate. No 
 undue harshness had been exhibited by her relatives, but 
 Charlotte took a stand which sufficiently declared her 
 kindred with Godwin. She held her liead higher than 
 formerly, spoke with habitual decision which bordered on 
 snappishness, and at times displayed the absent-mindedness 
 of one who in silence suffers wrong. 
 
 There passed but a day or two before Godwin was 
 brought face to face with Mr. Cusse, who answered too 
 well to the idea Charlotte's brother had formed of him. 
 He had a very smooth and shiny forehead, crowned by 
 sleek chestnut hair; bis chin was deferential; the bend 
 of his body signified a modest hope that he did his duty 
 in the station to which Providence had summoned him. 
 Godwin he sought to flatter with looks of admiring interest ; 
 also, by entering upon a conversation which was meant to 
 prove that he did not altogether lack worldly knowledge, 
 of however little moment that might be in comparison 
 with spiritual concerns. Examining, volume by volume 
 and with painful minuteness, the prizes Godwin had 
 
BORN IN EXILE 101 
 
 carried off, lie remarked fervently, in each instance, ' I 
 can see how very interesting that is ! So thorough, so 
 thorough ! ' Even Charlotte was at length annoyed, when 
 Mr. Cusse had exclaimed upon the ' thoroughness ' of Ben 
 Jonson's works ; she asked an abrupt question about some 
 town affair, and so gave her brother an opportunity of 
 taking the books away. There was no flagrant offence in 
 the man. He spoke with passable accent, and manifested 
 a high degree of amiability ; but one could not dissociate 
 him from the counter. At the thought that his sister 
 might become Mrs. Cusse, Godwin ground his teeth. Xow 
 that he came to reflect on the subject, he found in himself 
 a sort of unreasoned supposition that Charlotte "svould 
 always remain single; it seemed so unlikely that she 
 would be sought by a man of liberal standing, and at the 
 same time so impossible for her to accept any one less 
 than a gentleman. Yet he remembered that to outsiders 
 such fastidiousness must show in a ridiculous light. What 
 claim to gentility had they, the Peaks ? Was it not all a 
 figment of his own self-conceit ? Even in education 
 Charlotte could barely assert a superiority to Mr. Cusse, 
 for her formal schooling had ended when she was twelve, 
 and she had never cared to read beyond the strait track of 
 clerical inspiration. 
 
102 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 There were otiier circumstances wliicli helped to depress 
 liis estimate of the family dignity. Ilis brother Oliver, 
 now seventeen, was developing into a type of young man 
 as objectionable as it is easily recognised. The slow, com- 
 pliant boy had grown more flesh and muscle than once 
 seemed likely, and his wits had begun to display that kind 
 of vivaciousness which is only compatible with a nature 
 moulded in common clay. He saw much company, and all 
 of low intellectual order ; he had purchased a bicycle, and 
 regarded it as a source of distinction, a means of displaying 
 himself before shopkeepers' daughters ; he believed him- 
 self a modest tenor, and sang verses of sentimental 
 imbecility; he took in several weekly papers of un- 
 promising title, for the chief purpose of deciphering crypto- 
 grams, in wdiich pursuit he had singular success. Add to 
 these characteristics a penchant for cheap jewellery, and 
 Oliver Peak stands confessed. 
 
 It appeared to Godwin that his brother had leapt in a 
 few months to these heights of vulgar accomplishment ; 
 each separate revelation struck unexpectedly upon his 
 nerves and severely tried his temper. When at length 
 Oliver, waiting for supper, began to dance grotesquely to 
 an air which local talent had somehow caught from the 
 London music-halls, Godwin's self-control gave way. 
 
BORN IN EXILE 103 
 
 * Is it your ambition/ he asked, with fiery sarcasm, * to 
 joiu a troupe of nigger minstrels V 
 
 Oliver was startled into the military posture of attention, 
 lie answered, with some embarrassment : 
 
 ' I can't say it is.' 
 
 ' Yet any one would suppose so,' went on Godwin, hotly. 
 ' Though you are employed in a shop, I should have 
 thought you might still aim at behaving like a gentleman.' 
 
 Indisposed to quarrel, and possessed of small skill in 
 verbal fence, Oliver drew aside with shadowed brow. As 
 the brothers still had to share one bed-room, they were 
 presently alone together, and their muteness, as they lay 
 down to sleep, show^ed the estrangement that had at length 
 come between them. When all had been dark and still 
 for half-an-hour, Godwin spoke. 
 
 ' Are you awake ? ' 
 
 ' Yes.' 
 
 'There was something about Uncle Andrew I didn't 
 mention. He talks of opening an eating-house just 
 opposite Whitelaw.' 
 
 ' Oh.' 
 
 The tone of this sicirnified nothinf]: more than curiositv. 
 
 ' You don't see any reason why he shouldn't ? ' 
 
 Oliver delayed a little before replying. 
 
104 BORN IX EXILE 
 
 * I suppose it wouldn't be very nice for you.' 
 
 * That's rather a mild way of putting it. It would mean 
 that I should have to leave the College, and give up all 
 my hopes.' 
 
 * I see,' returned the other, with slow apprehension. 
 There followed several minutes of silence. Then 
 
 Godwin sat up in bed, as had always been his wont when 
 he talked with earnestness at night. 
 
 ' If you think I lost my temper without cause at supper- 
 time, just remember that I had that blackguard before my 
 mind, and that it isn't very pleasant to see you taking 
 after that branch of our family.' 
 
 ' Do you mean to say I am like uncle ? ' 
 
 ' I mean to say that, if you are not careful, you won't be 
 the kind of man I should like to see you. Do you know 
 what is meant by inherited tendencies ? Scientific men 
 are giving a great deal of attention to such things nowa- 
 days. Children don't always take after their parents ; 
 very often they show a much stronger likeness to a grand- 
 father, or an uncle, or even more distant relatives. Just 
 think over this, and make up your mind to resist any 
 danger of that sort. I tell you plainly that the habits you 
 are getting into, and the people you make friends of, are 
 detestable. For heaven's sake, spend more of your time 
 
BORN IN EXILE 105 
 
 in a rational way, and learn to despise the things that 
 shopkeepers admire. Eead ! Force yourself to stick 
 hard at solid books for two or three hours every day. If 
 you don't, it's all up with you. I am speaking for your 
 own good. Eead, read, read 1 ' 
 
 Quietness ensued. Then Oliver began to move uneasily 
 in his bed, and at length his protest became audible. 
 
 * I can't see what harm I do.' 
 
 ' No ! ' burst from his brother's lips, scornfully. ' And 
 that's just your danger. Do you suppose / could sing 
 nigger songs, and run about the town with shopboys, and 
 waste hours over idiotic puzzles ? ' 
 
 ' We're not all alike, and it wouldn't do for us to be.' 
 ' It would do very well for us all to have brains and to 
 use them. The life you lead is a brainless life, brainless 
 and vulcjar.' 
 
 * Well, if I haven't got brains, I can't help it,' replied 
 Oliver, with sullen resignation. 
 
 'You have enough to teach you to live respectably, if 
 only you look to the right kind of example.' 
 
 There followed a vehement exhortation, now angry, now^ 
 in strain of natural kindliness. To this Oliver made only 
 a few brief and muttered replies ; when it was all over, he 
 fell asleep. But Godwin was wakeful for hours. 
 
106 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 The next morning he attempted to work for his 
 approaching examination, Lut with small result. It had 
 begun to be very doubtful to him whether he should ' go 
 up ' at all, and this uncertainty involved so great a change 
 in all his prospects that he could not command the mental 
 calm necessary for study. After dinner he went out with 
 unsettled purpose. He would gladly have conversed with 
 Mr. Gunnery, but the old people were just now on a stay 
 with relatives in Bedfordshire, and their return might be 
 delayed for another week. Perhaps it behoved him to go 
 and see Mr. Moxey, but he was indisposed to visit the 
 works, and if he went to the house this evening he would 
 encounter the five daughters, who, like all women who did 
 not inspire him with admiration, excited his bashful dislike. 
 At length he struck off into the country and indulged rest- 
 less thoughts in places where no one could observe him. 
 
 A result of the family's removal first from London to 
 the farm, and then into Twybridge, was that Godwin had 
 no friends of old standincj. At Greenwich, Nicholas Peak 
 formed no intimacies, nor did a single associate remain to 
 him from the years of his growth and struggle ; his wife, 
 until the renewal of intercourse with her sister at 
 Twybridge, had no society whatever beyond her home. A 
 boy reaps advantage from the half parental kindness of 
 
BORN IN EXILE 107 
 
 men and women who have watched his growth from 
 infancy ; in general it affects him as a steadying influence, 
 keeping before liis mind the social bonds to which his 
 behaviour owes allegiance. The only person whom 
 Godwin regarded ^\ith feeling akin to this was Mr. 
 Gunnery, but the geologist found no favour with Mrs. 
 Peak, and thus he involuntarily helped to widen the gr.p 
 between the young man and his relatives. Xor had the 
 intimacies of school time supplied Godwin with friend- 
 ships for the years to come ; his Twybridge class-fellows 
 no longer interested him, nor did they care to continue 
 his acquaintance. One was articled to a solicitor; one 
 was learning the drug-trade in his father's shop ; another 
 had begun to deal in corn ; the rest were scattered about 
 England, as students or salary-earners. The dominion of 
 the commonplace had absorbed them, all and sundry ; 
 they were the stuff which destiny uses for its every-day 
 purposes, to keep the world a-rolling. 
 
 So that Godwin had no ties which bound him strongly to 
 any district. He could not call himself a Londoner ; for, 
 though born in Westminster, he had grown to consciousness 
 on the outskirts of Greenwich, and remembered but dimly 
 some of the London streets, and a few places of public 
 interest to which his father had taken him. Yet, as a matter 
 
108 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 of course, it was to London tliat liis ambition pointed, 
 when lie forecast tlie future. Where else could he hope for 
 opportunity of notable advancement ? At Twybridge ? 
 Impossible to find more than means of subsistence ; his soul 
 loathed such a prospect. At Kingsmill ? There was a 
 slender hope that he might establish a connection with 
 Whitelaw College, if he devoted himself to laboratory 
 work ; but what could come of that — at all events for 
 many years ? London, then ? The only acceptable plan 
 for supporting himself there was to succeed in a Civil 
 Service competition. That, indeed, seemed the most 
 hopeful direction for his efforts ; a government office might 
 afford him scope, and, he had heard, would allow him 
 abundant leisure. 
 
 Or to go abroad ? To enter for the Indian clerkships, 
 and possibly cleave a wider way than could be hoped in 
 England ? Tiiere was allurement in the suggestion ; 
 travel had always tempted his fancy. In that case he 
 would be safely severed from the humble origin which in 
 his native country might long be an annoyance, or even an 
 obstacle ; no Uncle Andrew could spring up at inconvenient 
 moments in the middle of his path. Yes ; this indeed 
 might be best of all. He must send send for papers, 
 and give attention to the matter. 
 
BORN IN EXILE 109 
 
 Musing in this way, he had come within sight of the 
 familiar chemical works. It was near the hour at which 
 Mr. Moxey was about to go home for his afternoon dinner ; 
 why not interrupt his walk, and have a word with him ? 
 That duty would be over. 
 
 He pushed on, and, as he approached the buildings, was 
 aware of ]\Ir. Moxey stepping into the road, unaccom- 
 panied. Greetings speedily followed. The manufacturer, 
 who was growing stout in his mellow years and looking 
 more leisurely than when Godwin first knew him, beamed 
 with smiles of approbation. 
 
 ' Glad to see you ; glad to see you ! I have heard of 
 your doings at College.' 
 
 * ]N"othing to boast of, Mr. Moxey.' 
 
 * Why, what w^ould satisfy you ? A nephew of mine 
 was there last Friday, and tells me you carried off' half a 
 hundredweight of prizes. Here he comes, I see'. 
 
 There drew near a young man of about four-and-twenty, 
 well-dressed, sauntering with a cane in his hand. His 
 name was Christian Moxey. 
 
 * Much pleasure in meeting you, Mr. Peak,' he said, with 
 a winning smile. ' I was at AYhitelaw the other day, 
 when you distinguished yourself, and if I had known then 
 that you were an acquaintance of my uncle's I should 
 
110 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 have been tempted to ofler a word of congratulation. Very 
 glad indeed to meet you.' 
 
 Godwin, grateful as always for the show of kindness and 
 flattered by such a reception, at once felt a liking for 
 Christian Moxey. IMost people would have admitted the 
 young man's attractiveness. He had a thin and sallow 
 face, and seemed to be of weak constitution. In talk- 
 ino- he leant upon his cane, and his movements were 
 languid ; none the less, liis person was distinguished by an 
 air of graceful manhood. His features, separately con- 
 sidered, were ordinary enough; together they made a 
 countenance of peculiar charm, vividly illunnned, full of 
 appeal to whosoever could appreciate emotional capa- 
 bilities. The interest he excited in Peak appeared to 
 be reciprocal, for his eyes dwelt as often and as long 
 as possible on Godwin's features. 
 
 ' Come along, and have something to eat with us,' said 
 Mr. Moxey, in a tone of genial invitation. ' I daresay you 
 had dinner long enough ago to have picked up a new 
 appetite.' 
 
 Godwin had a perturbing vision of the five Miss Moxeys 
 and of a dinner table, such as he w^as not used to sit at ; 
 he wished to decline, yet knew not how to do so with 
 civility. 
 
BORN IN EXILE 111 
 
 ' Yes, yes ; come along ! ' added his friend, heartily. 
 * Tell us something about your chemistry paper. Any 
 posers this time ? My nephew won't he out of it ; he 
 belongs to the firm of Bates Brothers — the Eotherhithe 
 people, you know.' 
 
 This information was a surprise to Godwin. He had 
 imagined Christian Moxey either a gentleman at large, or 
 at all events connected with some liberal profession. 
 Glancing at the attractive face, he met a singular look, a 
 smile which suggested vague doubts. But Christian made 
 no remark, and Mr. Moxey renewed his inquiries about 
 the examination in chemistry. 
 
 The five daughters — all assembled in a homely sitting- 
 room — were nothing less than formidable. Plain, soft- 
 spoken, not ill educated, they seemed to live in perfect 
 harmony, and to derive satisfaction from pursuits inde- 
 pendent of external society. In the town they were seldom 
 seen ; few families called upon them ; and only the most 
 inveterate gossips found matter for small-talk in their 
 retired lives. It had never been heard that any one of 
 them was sought in marriage. Godwin, superfluously 
 troubled about his attire, met them with grim endeavour 
 at politeness ; their gravity, a result of shyness, he mis- 
 interpreted, supposing tliem to hold aloof from a young 
 
112 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 man who had been in their father's employ. But before 
 he could suffer much from the necessity of formal conver- 
 sation the door opened to admit yet another young lady, 
 a perfect stranger to him. Her age was about seventeen, 
 but she had nothing of the sprightly grace proverbially 
 connected with that time of life in girls ; her pale and 
 freckled visage expressed a haughty reserve, intensified as 
 soon as her eye fell upon the visitor. She had a slight 
 but well-proportioned figure, and a mass of auburn hair 
 carelessly arranged. 
 
 ' My sister,' said Christian, glancing at Godwin. 
 ' Marcella, you recognise Mr. Peak.' 
 
 * Oh yes,' the girl replied, as she came forward, and made 
 a sudden offer of her hand. 
 
 She too had been present the other day at Whitelaw. 
 Her ' Oh yes' sounded offensive to Godwin, yet in shaking 
 hands with her he felt a warm pressure, and it flattered 
 him when he became aware that Marcella regarded him 
 from time to time with furtive interest. Presently he 
 learnt that Christian and his sister were on a short 
 visit at the house of their relatives ; their home was in 
 London. Marcella had seated herself stiffly by a window, 
 and seemed to pay more attention to the view without than 
 to the talk which went on, until dinner was announced. 
 
BORN IN EXILE 113 
 
 Speculating on all he saw, Godwin noticed that Christian 
 Moxey showed a marked preference for the youngest of 
 his cousins, a girl of eighteen, whose plain features were 
 frequently brightened with a happy and very pleasant 
 smile. When he addressed her (by the name of Janet) 
 his voice had a playful kindness which must have been 
 significant to everyone who heard it. At dinner, his place 
 was by her side, and he attended to her with more than 
 courtesy. This astonished Peak. He deemed it incredible 
 that any man should conceive a tender feeliniz for a girl so 
 far from beautiful. Constantly occupied with -thought of 
 sexual attachments, he had never imagined anything of 
 the kind apart from loveliness of feature in the chosen 
 object ; his instincts were, in fact, revolted by the idea of 
 love for such a person as Janet Moxey. Christian seemed 
 to be degraded by such a suggestion. In his endeavour to 
 solve the mystery, Godwin grew half unconscious of the 
 other people about him. 
 
 Such play of the imaginative and speculative faculties 
 accounts for the common awkwardness of intelligent young 
 men in society that is strange to them. Only the culti- 
 vation of a double consciousness puts them finally at 
 ease. Impossible to converse with suavity, and to heed 
 the formij of ordimary good-breeding, when the In^ain is 
 
 VOL. I. 8 
 
114 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 absorbed in all manner of new problems : one must learn to 
 act a part, to control the facial mechanism, to observe and 
 anticipate, even whilst the intellect is spending its sincere 
 energy on subjects unavowed. The perfectly graceful man 
 will always be he who has no strong apprehension either 
 of his own personality or of that of others, who lives on the 
 surface of things, who can be interested without emotion, 
 and surprised without contemplative impulse. ISTever yet 
 had Godwin Peak uttered a word that was worth listening 
 to, or made a remark that declared his mental powers, save 
 in most familiar colloquy. He w^as beginning to under- 
 stand the various reasons of his seeming clownishness, but 
 this very process of self-study opposed an obstacle to 
 improvement. 
 
 When he found himself obliged to take part in conver- 
 sation about Whitelaw College, Godwin was disturbed by 
 an uncertainty which had never left his mind at rest 
 during the past two years ; — was it, or was it not, generally 
 known to his Tvvybridge acquaintances that he studied 
 as the pensioner of Sir Job Whitelaw ? To outward 
 seeming all delicacy had been exercised in the bestowal of 
 Sir Job's benefaction. At the beginning of each academic 
 session Mrs Peak had privately received a cheque which 
 represented the exact outlay in fees for the course her son 
 
BORN IN EXILE 115 
 
 was pursuing ; payment was then made to the registrar 
 as if from Peak himself. But Lady Whitelaw's sisters were 
 in the secret, and was it likely that they maintained 
 absolute discretion in talking with their Twybridge friends ? 
 There seemed, in the first instance, to be a tacit under- 
 standing that the whole affair should remain strictly private, 
 and to Godwin himself, sensible enough of such refinements, 
 it was by no means inconceivable that silence had been 
 strictly preserved. He found no difficulty in imagining 
 that Sir Job's right hand knew nothing of what the 
 left performed, and it might be that the authorities of 
 Whitelaw had no hint of his peculiar position. Still, he 
 was perchance mistaken. The Professors perhaps regarded 
 him as a sort of charity-boy, and Twybridge possibly saw 
 him in the some light. The doubt flashed upon his mind 
 while he was trying to eat and converse w^ith becoming 
 self-possession. He dug his heel into the carpet and 
 silently cursed the burden of his servitude. 
 
 "When the meal was over, Mr. Moxey led the way out 
 into the garden. Christian walked apart with Janet; 
 Godwin strolled about between his host and the eldest 
 Miss Moxey, talking of he knew not what. In a short 
 half-hour he screwed up his courage to the point of 
 leave-taking. Marcella and three of her cousins had 
 
116 BORN IX PLXILE 
 
 disappeared, so tliat the awkwardness of departure was 
 reduced. Christian, wlio seemed to l)e in a very con- 
 tented mood, accompanied the guest as far as the garden 
 gate.. 
 
 ' What will be your special line of work when you leave 
 Whitelaw ? he inquired. ' Your tastes seem about equally 
 divided between science and literature.* 
 
 ' I haven't the least idea what I shall do,' was Peak's 
 reply. 
 
 'Very much my own state of mind wlien I came home 
 from Zurich a year ago. But it had been taken for 
 granted that I was preparing for business, so into business 
 I w^ent.' He laughed good-humouredly. 'Perhaps you 
 will be drawn to London ? ' 
 
 ' Yes — I think it likely,' Godwin answered, with an 
 absent glance this way and that. 
 
 'In any case,' pursued the other, 'you'll be there 
 presently for First B.A. Honours. Try to look in at my 
 rooms, will you ? I should l)e delighted to see y<ni. Most 
 of my day is spent in the romantic locality of Potherhithe, 
 but I get home about five o'clock, as a rule. Let me give 
 you a card.' 
 
 ' Thank you.' 
 
 ' I daresay we shall meet somewhere about here before 
 
BORN IN EXILE 117 
 
 then. Of course you are reading hard, and haven't much 
 leisure. I'm an idle dog, unfortunately. I should like to 
 work, hut I don't quite know what at. I suppose this is 
 a transition time with me.' 
 
 Godwin tried to discover the implication of this 
 remark. Had it any reference to Miss Janet Moxey ? 
 Wiiilst he stood in embarrassed silence. Christian looked 
 about with a peculiar smile, and seemed on the point of 
 indulging in further self-revelation; but Godwin of a 
 sudden held out his hand for good-bye, and witli friendly 
 smiles they parted. 
 
 Peak was older than his years, and he saw in Christian 
 one who might prove a very congenial associate, did but 
 circumstances favour their intercourse. That was not 
 very likely to happen, but the meeting at all events 
 turned his thoughts to London once more. 
 
 His attempts to ' read ' were still unfruitful For one 
 thing, the stress and excitement of the Whitelaw examina- 
 tions had wearied him ; it was characteristic of the 
 educational system in which he had become involved 
 that studious effort should be called for immediately after 
 that frenzy of college competition. He ought now to 
 have been ' sweating ' at his London subjects. Instead of 
 that, he procured works of general literature from a 
 
118 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 Twybridge library, and shut himself up with tliem in the 
 garret bedroom. 
 
 A letter from Mr. Gunnery informed him that the 
 writer would be home in a day or two. This return took 
 place late one evening, and on the morrow Godwin set 
 forth to visit his friend. On reaching the house, he learnt 
 that Mr. Gunnery had suffered an accident which 
 threatened serious results. Walking barefoot in his bed- 
 room the night before, lie had stepped upon the point of 
 a large nail, and was now prostrate, enduring much pain. 
 Two days elapsed before Godwin could be admitted; he 
 then found the old man a mere shadow of liis familiar 
 self — bloodless, hollow-eyed. 
 
 ' This is the kind of practical joke that Fate likes to 
 play upon us ! ' the sufferer growled in a harsh, quaking 
 voice, his countenance divided between genial welcome 
 and surly wrath. * It'll be the end of me. Pooh \ who 
 doesn't know that such a thing is fatal at my age ? 
 Blood-poisoning has fairly begun. I'd a good deal rather 
 have broken my neck among honest lumps of old red 
 sandstone. A nail ! A damned Brummagem nail ! — 
 So you collared the first prize in geology, ch ? I take 
 that as a kindness, Godwin. You've got a bit beyond 
 Figuier and his Deluge, eh ? His Deluge, bah ! ' 
 
BORN IN EXILE 119 
 
 And he laughed discordantly. On the other side of the 
 bed sat Mrs. Gunnery, grizzled and feeble dame. Shaken 
 into the last stage of senility by this alarm, she wiped 
 tears from her flaccid cheeks, and moaned a few unin- 
 telligible words. 
 
 The geologist's forecast of doom was speedily justified. 
 Another day bereft him of consciousness, and when, for a 
 short while, he had rambled among memories of his youth, 
 the end came. It was found that he had made a will, 
 bequeathing his collections and scientific instruments to 
 Godwin Peak ; his books were to be sold for the benefit 
 of the widow, who would enjoy an annuity purchased 
 out of her husband's savings. The poor old woman, as 
 it proved, had little need of income; on the thirteenth 
 day after Mr. Gunnery's funeral, she too was borne forth 
 from the house, and the faithful couple slept together. 
 
 To inherit from the dead was an impressive experience 
 to Godwin. At the present stage of his development, 
 every circumstance affecting him started his mind upon 
 the quest of reasons, symbolisms, principles ; the ' natural 
 supernatural ' had hold upon him, and ruled his thought 
 whenever it was free from the spur of arrogant instinct. 
 This tendency had been strengthened by the influence of 
 his friend Earwaker, a young man of singularly complex 
 
120 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 personality, positive and analytic in a far higher degree 
 than Peak, yet with a vein of imaginative vigour 
 which seemed to befit quite a different order of mind. 
 Godwin was not distinguished by originality in thinking, 
 but his strongly featured character converted to uses of 
 his own the intellectual suggestions he so rapidly caught 
 from others. Earwaker's habit of reflection had much to 
 do with the strange feelings awakened in Godwin wlien 
 he transferred to his mother's house the cabinets which 
 had been Mr. Gunnery's pride for thirty or forty years. 
 Joy of possession was subdued in him by the conflict of 
 metaphysical questionings. 
 
 Days went on, and nothing was heard of Uncle Andrew. 
 Godwin tried to assure himself that he had been need- 
 lessly terrified ; the eating-house project would never be 
 carried out. Practically dismissing that anxiety, he 
 brooded over his defeat by Chilvers, and thought with 
 extreme reluctance of the year still to be spent at 
 Whitelaw, probably a year of humiliation. In the mean- 
 time, should he or should he not present himself for his 
 First B.A. ? The five pound fee would be a most serious 
 demand upon his mother's resources, and did the profit 
 warrant it, was it really of importance to him to take 
 a degree ? 
 
BORN IN EXILE 121 
 
 He lived as much as possible alone, generally avoiding 
 the society of his relatives, save at meal times. A 
 careless remark (not intentionally offensive) with 
 reference to Mr. Cusse had so affronted Charlotte that 
 she never spoke to him save in reply to a question. 
 Godwin regretted the pain he had given, but could not 
 bring himself to express this feeling, for a discussion 
 would inevitably have disclosed all his mind concerning 
 the draper's assistant. Oliver seemed to have forgiven 
 his brother's reproaches, but no longer behaved with 
 freedom when Godwin was present. For all this, the 
 elder's irritation was often aroused by things he saw and 
 heard; and at length — on a memorable Saturday after- 
 noon — debate revived between them. Oliver, as his 
 custom was, had attired himself sprucely for a visit 
 to acquaintances, and a silk hat of the very newest 
 fashion lay together with his gloves upon the 
 table. 
 
 * What is this thing ? ' inquired Godwin, with ominous 
 calm, as he pointed to the piece of head-gear. 
 
 ' A hat, I suppose,' replied his brother. 
 
 ' You mean to say you are going to wear that in the 
 street ? ' 
 
 ' And why not ? ' 
 
122 BORN IX EXILE 
 
 Oliver, not venturing to raise his eyes, stared at the 
 table-cloth indignantly. 
 
 * Can't you feel,' burst from the otlier, ' that it's a 
 disgrace to buy and wear such a thing ? ' 
 
 * Disgrace ! what's the matter with the hat ? It's the 
 fashionable shape.' 
 
 Godwin mastered his wrath, and turned contemptuously 
 away. But Oliver had been touched in a sensitive place ; 
 he was eacjer to defend himself. 
 
 ' I can't see what you're finding fault with,' he 
 exclaimed. * Everybody wears this shape.' 
 
 ' And isn't that quite sufficient reason why anyone who 
 respects himself should choose something as different as 
 possible ? Everybody ! That is to say, all the fools in 
 the kingdom. It's bad enough to follow when you can't 
 help it, but to imitate asses gratuitously is the lowest 
 depth of degradation. Don't you know that that is the 
 meaning of vulgarity ? How you can offer such an 
 excuse passes my comprehension. Have you uo self? 
 Are you made, like this hat, on a pattern witli a hundred 
 thousand others ? ' 
 
 ' You and I are different,' said Oliver, impatiently. 
 ' I am content to be like other people.' 
 
 * And I would poison myself with vermin-killer if I felt 
 
BORN IN EXILE 123 
 
 any risk of such contentment ! Like otlier people ? 
 Heaven forbid and forfend ! Like other people ? Oh, 
 what a noble ambition ! ' 
 
 The loud passionate voice summoned Mrs. Peak from 
 an adjacent room. 
 
 ' Godwin ! Godwin ! ' she remonstrated. ' \Yhatever is 
 it ? Why should you put yourself out so ? ' 
 
 She was a short and slender woman, with an air of 
 gentility, independent of her badly made and long worn 
 widow's dress. Self-possession marked her manner, and 
 the even tones in which she spoke gave indication of a 
 mild, perhaps an unemotional, temperament. 
 
 Oliver began to represent his grievance. 
 
 * What harm is there, if I choose to wear a hat that's in 
 fashion ? I pay for it out of my own ' 
 
 But he w^as interrupted by a loud visitor's knock at tlie 
 front door, distant only a few paces. Mrs. Peak turned 
 with a startled look. Godwin, dreading contact with 
 friends of the family, strode upstairs. When the door 
 was opened, there appeared the smiling countenance of 
 Andrew Peak ; he wore the costume of a traveller, and by 
 his side stood a boy of ten, too plainly his son. 
 
 * Well, Grace ! ' was his familiar greeting, as the widow 
 drew back. ' I told you you'd 'ev the pleasure of seein' 
 
124 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 me again before so very long. Godwin at 'ome with you, 
 I s'pose ? Thet you, Xoll ? 'Ow do, my bo-oy ? 'Ere's 
 yer cousin Jowey. Shike 'ands, Jowey bo-oy ! Sorry I 
 couldn't bring my old lady over this time, Grace ; she 
 sends her respects, as usuaL 'Ow's Charlotte ? Bloomin', 
 I 'ope?' 
 
 He had made his way into the front parlour, dragging 
 the youngster after him. Having deposited his handbag 
 and umbrella on the sofa, he seated himself in the easy- 
 chair, and began to blow his nose with vigour. 
 
 * Set down, Jowey ; set down, bo-oy ! Down't be afride 
 of your awnt.' 
 
 * Oi ain't afride ! ' cried the youth, in a tone which 
 supported his assertion. 
 
 Mrs. Peak trembled with annoyance and indecision. 
 Andrew evidently meant to stay for some time, and she 
 could not bring herself to treat him with plain dis- 
 courtesy ; but she saw that Oliver, after shaking hands 
 in a very strained way, had abruptly left the room, and 
 Godwin would be anything but willing to meet his uncle. 
 When the name of her elder son was again mentioned 
 she withdrew on the pretence of summoning him, and 
 went up to his room. Godwin had heard the hateful 
 voice, and was in profound disturbance. 
 
BORN IN EXILE 125 
 
 * What does he say, mother ? ' he inquircLl anxiously. 
 * Anything about Kingsmill ? * 
 
 'Not yet. Oh, I do so wish we could bring this 
 connection to an end ! ' 
 
 It was the first time Mrs. Peak had uttered her 
 sentiments so unreservedh'. 
 
 * Then, shall I see him in private,' said Godwin, ' and 
 simply let him know the truth ? ' 
 
 ' I dread the thought of that, Godwin. He would very 
 likely be coarse and violent. I must try to show him by 
 my manner. Oliver has gone out, and when Charlotte 
 comes home I'll tell her to keep out of sight. He has 
 brought his boy. Suppose you don't come down at all ? 
 I might say you are too busy.' 
 
 ' No, no ; you shan't have to do it all alone. I'll come 
 down with you. I must hear what he has to say.' 
 
 They descended. As soon as his nephew appeared, 
 Andrew sprang up, and shouted joyfully : 
 
 'Well, Godwin, bo-oy ! It's all settled! Got the 
 bloomin' shop from next quarter dye ! " Peak's Dinin' 
 and Eefreshment Piooms ! " Jowey an' me was over tliere 
 all yisterday— wasn't us, Jowey ? Oh, it's immense ! ' 
 
 Godwin felt the blood buzz in his ears, and a hot 
 chokimr clutch at his .threat. He took his stand by the 
 
126 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 mantelpiece, and began to turn a little glass ornament 
 round and round. Fate had spoken. On tlie instant, all 
 his College life was far behind him, all his uneasiness 
 regarding the next session was dispelled, and he had no 
 more connection with Kingsmill. 
 
 Mrs. Peak had heard from Oliver of her brother-in- 
 law's proposed undertaking. She had spoken of it with 
 anxiety to Godwin, who merely shrugged his shoulders 
 and avoided the topic, ashamed to dwell on the particulars 
 of his shame. In hearing Andrew's announcement she 
 had much ado to repress tears of vexation ; silently she 
 seated herself, and looked with pained countenance from 
 uncle to nephew. 
 
 'Shall you make any changes in the place?' Godwin 
 asked, carelessly. 
 
 ' Shan't I, jest ! It'll take a month to refit them eatin' 
 rooms. I'm agoin' to do it proper — up to Dick ! and I 
 want your 'elp, my bo-oy. You an' me '11 jest write a bit 
 of a circular — see ? to send round to the big pots of the 
 Collige, an' all the parents of the young fellers as we can 
 get the addresses of — see ?' 
 
 Even amid his pangs of mortification Godwin found 
 himself pondering an intellectual question. Was his 
 uncle wholly unconscious of the misery he was causing ? 
 
BORN IN EXILE 127 
 
 Had it never occurred to him that the public proximity 
 of an uneducated shopkeeping rehative must be unwelcome 
 to a lad who was distinguishing himself at Whitelaw 
 College ? Were that truly the case, then it would be 
 unjust to regard Andrew resentfully ; destiny alone was to 
 blame. And, after all, the man might be so absorbed in 
 his own interest, so strictly confined to the views of his 
 own class, as never to have dreamt of the sensibilities he 
 wounded. In fact, the shame excited by this prospect 
 was artificial Godwin had already felt that it was 
 unworthy alike of a philosopher and of a high-minded 
 man of the world. The doubt as to Andrew's state of 
 mind, and this moral problem, had a restraining effect 
 upon the young man's temper. A practical person 
 justifies himself in wrath as soon as his judgment is 
 at one with that of the multitude. Godwin, thougli his 
 passions were of exceptional force, must needs refine, 
 debate with himself points of abstract justice. 
 
 ' I've been tellin' Jowey, Grace, as I 'ope he may turn 
 out such another as Godwin 'ere. 'E'll go to Collige, will 
 Jowey. Godwin, jest arst the bo-oy a question or two, 
 will you ? 'E ain't been doin' bad at 'is school. Jest put 
 'im through 'is pyces, as yer may sye. Stend up, Jowey, 
 bo-oy.' 
 
128 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 Godwin looked askance at his cousin, who stood with 
 pert face, ready for any test. 
 
 'What's the date of William the Conqueror ?' he asked, 
 mechanically. 
 
 *0w!' shouted the youth. 'Down't mike me larff! 
 Zif I didn't know thet ! Tensixsixtenightysivn, of 
 course ! ' 
 
 The father turned round with an expression of such 
 sincere pride that Godwin, for all his loathing, was obliged 
 to smile. 
 
 * Jowey, jest sye a few verses of poitry ; them as you 
 learnt larst. 'E's good at poitry, is Jowey.' 
 
 The boy broke into fearsome recitation : 
 
 'The silly buckits on the deck 
 That 'ed so long rem'ined, 
 I dreamt as they was filled Avitli jew, 
 End when I awowk, it r'ined.' 
 
 Half-a-dozen verses were thus massacred, and tlie 
 reciter stopped with the sudden jerk of a machine. 
 
 'Goes str'ight on, don't 'e, Grace?' cried the father, 
 exultantly. ' Jowey ain't no fooL Know what he towld 
 me the other day ? Somethin' as I never knew, and 
 shouldn't never 'ave thought of s'lcng as I lived. We was 
 talkin' about jewellery, an' Jowey, 'e pops up all at wunst. 
 
BORN IN EXILK 129 
 
 " It's called jewellery," says 'e, " 'cos it's mostly the Jews as 
 sell it." Now, oo'd a thought o' that ? But you see it's 
 right as soon as you're towkl, eh ? Now ain't it riglit, 
 Godwin ? ' 
 
 'No doubt,' was the dry answ^er. 
 
 ' It never struck nie/ murmured Mrs. Peak, wdio took 
 her son's assent seriously, and felt that it was impossible 
 to preserve an obstinate silence. 
 
 ' 'E ain't no fool, ain't Jowey ! ' cried the parent. ' Wite 
 till 'e gits to Collige. Godwin '11 put us up to all the ins 
 and outs. Plenty o' time for that ; 'e'll often run over an' 
 'ev a bit o' dinner, and no need to talk about p'yment.' 
 
 ' Do you stay in Twybridge to-night ? ' inquired Godwin, 
 who had changed in look and manner, so that he appeared 
 all but cheerful. 
 
 'No, we're on our w'y 'ome, is Jowey an' me. Jest 
 thought we'd break the journey 'ere. We shall ketch the 
 six-fifty hup.' 
 
 * Then you will have a cup of tea with us,' said Mrs. 
 Peak, surprised at Godwin's transformation, but seeing 
 that hospitality was now unavoidable. 
 
 Charlotte presently entered the house, and, after a 
 private conversation with her mother, went to greet 
 Andrew. If only to signify her contempt for Godwin's 
 
 VOL. I. 9 
 
130 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 prejudices, Charlotte would have behaved civilly to tlie 
 London uncle. In the end, Andrew took his leave in the 
 friendliest possible way, repeating often that he would 
 soon have the pleasure of entertaining Mrs. Peak and all 
 her family at his new dining-rooms over against Whitelaw 
 College. 
 
IV 
 
 Immediately upon liis uncle's departure, Godwin dis- 
 appeared; Mrs. Peak caught only a glimpse of him as 
 he went by the parlour window. In a short time Oliver 
 came home, and, having learned what had happened, 
 joined his mother and sister in a dull, intermittent con- 
 versation on the subject of Godwin's future difficulties. 
 
 ' He won't go back to Whitelaw,' declared the lad. ' He 
 said he wouldn't.' 
 
 ' People must be above such false shame,' was Charlotte's 
 opinion. 'I can't see that it will make the slightest 
 difference in his position or his prospects.' 
 
 Whereupon her mother's patience gave way. 
 
 ' Don't talk such nonsense, Charlotte ! You under- 
 stand perfectly well how serious it will be. I never knew 
 anything so cruel.' 
 
 ' I was never taught,' persisted the girl, with calm 
 
132 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 obstinacy, ' that one ought to be ashamed of one's rehitives 
 just because they are in a humble position.' 
 
 Oliver brought the tedious discussion to an end by 
 clamouring for supper. The table was laid, and all were 
 about to sit down when Godwin presented himself. To the 
 general astonishment, he seemed in excellent spirits, and 
 ate more heartily than usual. Not a word was spoken of 
 Uncle Andrew, until Mrs. Peak and her elder son w^ere left 
 alone together ; then Godwin remarked in a tone of 
 satisfied decision : 
 
 ' Of course, this is the end of my work at Whitelaw. 
 We must make new plans, mother.' 
 
 ' But how can w^e, dear ? What will Lady Whitelaw 
 say ?' 
 
 'I have to think it out yet. In a day or two I shall 
 very likely write a letter to Lady Whitelaw. There's no 
 need, you know, to go talking about this in Twybridge. 
 Just leave it to me, w^ill you ? ' 
 
 'It's not a subject I care to talk about, you may be 
 sure. But I do hope you won't do anything rasli, 
 Godwin.' 
 
 'Not L To tell you the trutli, I'm not at all sorry to 
 leave. It was a mistake that I went in for the Arts 
 course — Greek, and Latin, and so on, you know ; I ought 
 
BORN IN EXILE 133 
 
 to have stuck to science. I shall go back to it now. 
 Don't be afraid. I'll make a position for myself before 
 long. I'll repay all you have spent on me.' 
 
 To this conclusion had he come. The process of mind 
 was favoured by his defeat in all the Arts subjects; in 
 that direction he could see only the triumphant Chilvers, 
 a figure which disgusted him with Greeks, Eomans, and 
 all the ways of literature. As to his future efforts he ^vas 
 by no means clear, but it eased him greatly to have cast 
 off a burden of doubt ; his theorising intellect loved the 
 sensation of life thrown open to new, however vague, 
 possibilities. At present he was convinced that Andrew 
 Peak had done him a service. In this there was an 
 indication of moral cowardice, such as commonly connects 
 itself with intense pride of individuality. He desired to 
 shirk the combat with Chilvers, and welcomed as an 
 excuse for doing so the shame which another temper 
 would have stubbornly defied. 
 
 Now he would abandon his B.A. examination, — a clear 
 saving of money. Presently it might suit him to take 
 tlie P).Sc. instead; time enough to think of that. Had he 
 but pursued the Science course from the first, who at 
 "VVhitelaw could have come out ahead of him ? He had 
 wasted a couple of years which might have been most 
 
134 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 profitably applied: by this time he might have been 
 ready to obtain a position as demonstrator in some 
 laboratory, on his way perhaps to a professorship. How 
 had he thus been led astray ? Not only had his boyish 
 instincts moved strongly towards science, but was not 
 the tendency of the age in the same direction ? Buckland 
 Warricombe, who habitually declaimed against classical 
 study, was perfectly right; the world had learned all it 
 could from those hoary teachers, and must now turn to 
 Nature. On every hand, the future was with students of 
 the laws of matter. Often, it was true, he had been 
 tempted by the thought of a literary career; he had 
 written in verse and prose, but with small success. An 
 attempt to compose the Prize Poem was soon abandoned 
 in discouragement; the essay he sent in had not been 
 mentioned. These honours had fallen to Earwaker, 
 with whom it was not easy to compete on such ground. 
 No, he was not born a man of letters. But in science, 
 granted fair opportunity, he might nu\ke a name. He 
 might, and he would ! 
 
 On the morrow, splendour of sunshine drew him forth 
 to some distance from the town. He went along the 
 lanes singing; now it was holiday with him, and for the 
 first time he could enjoy the broad golden daylight, the 
 
BORN IN EXILE 135 
 
 genial warmth. In a hollow of grassy fields, where he 
 least expected to encounter an acquaintance, it was his 
 chance to come upon Christian Moxey, stretched at full 
 length in the company of nibbling sheep. Since the 
 dinner at Mr. Moxey's, he had neither seen nor heard of 
 Christian, who, it seemed probable, was back at his work 
 in Eotherhithe. As their looks met, both laughed. 
 
 * I won't get up,' said Christian ; * the eftbrt would be 
 too great. Sit down and let us have a talk.' 
 
 *I disturb your thoughts,' answered Godwin. 
 
 ' A most welcome disturbance ; they weren't very 
 pleasant just then. In fact, I have come as far as this 
 in the hope of escaping them. I'm not much of a walker, 
 are you ? ' 
 
 ' Well, yes, I enjoy a good walk.' 
 
 ' You are of an energetic type,' said Christian, musingly. 
 * You will do something in life. When do you go up for 
 Honours ? * 
 
 ' I have decided not to go in at all.' 
 
 ' Indeed ; I'm sorry to hear that.' 
 
 * I have half made up my mind not to return to 
 Whitelaw.' 
 
 Observing his hearer's look of surprise, Godwin asked 
 himself whether it signified a knowledge of his footing at 
 
136 BORN IN KXILE 
 
 Whitelaw. The possibility of this galled him ; but it was 
 such a great step to have declared, as it were in public, an 
 intention of freeing himself, that he was able to talk on 
 with something of aggressive confidence. 
 
 'I think I shall go in for some practical work of a 
 scientific kind. It was a mistake for me to pursue the 
 Arts course.' 
 
 Christian looked at him earnestly. 
 
 * Are you sure of that ? ' 
 
 ' Yes, I feel sure of it.' 
 
 There was silence. Christian beat the ground with his 
 stick. 
 
 ' Your state of mind, then,' he said at length, * is more 
 like my own than I imagined. I, too, have wavered for 
 a long time between literature and science, and now at 
 last I have quite decided — quite — that scientific study is 
 the only safe line for me. The fact is, a man must 
 concentrate himself. Not only for the sake of practical 
 success, but — well, for his own sake.' 
 
 He spoke lazily, dreamily, propped upon his elbow, 
 seeming to watch the sheep which panted at a few yards 
 from him. 
 
 ' I have no right,' he pursued, with a shadow of kindly 
 anxiety on his features, 'to ofter you advice, but — well, 
 
BORN IN EXILE 137 
 
 if you will let me insist on what I have learned from my 
 own experience. There's nothing like having a special 
 line of work and sticking to it vigorously. I, unfortun- 
 ately, shall never do anything of any account, — but I 
 know so well the conflict between diverging tastes. It 
 has played the deuce with me, in all sorts of ways. At 
 Zurich I utterly wasted my time, and I've done no better 
 since I came back to England. Don't think me pre- 
 sumptuous. I only mean — well, it is so important to — to 
 go ahead in one line.' 
 
 His air of laughing apology was very pleasant. 
 Godwin felt his heart open to the kind fellow. 
 
 * No one needs the advice more than I,' he replied. ' I 
 am going back to the line I took naturally when I first 
 began to study at all.' 
 
 * But why leave Whitelaw ? ' asked Christian, gently. 
 ' Because I dislike it — I can't tell you why.' 
 
 With ready tact Moxey led away from a subject which 
 he saw was painful. 
 
 ' Of course there are many other places where one can 
 study just as well.' 
 
 'Do you know anything of the School of ]\Iines in 
 London ?' Godwin inquired, abruptly. 
 
 ' I worked there myself for a short time.' 
 
138 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 'Then you could tell me about tlie — the fees, and 
 so on ? ' 
 
 Christian readily gave the desired information, and the 
 listener mused over it. 
 
 ' Have you any friends in London ? ' Moxey asked, at 
 length. 
 
 ' No. But I don't think that matters. I shall work all 
 the harder.' 
 
 ' Perhaps so/ said the other, with some hesitation. And 
 he added thoughtfully, ' It depends on one's temperament. 
 Doesn't answer to be too much alone — I speak for myself 
 at all events. I know very few people in London — very 
 few that I care anything about. That, in fact, is one 
 reason why I am staying here longer than I intended.' 
 He seemed to speak rather to himself than to Godwin ; 
 the half-smile on his lips expressed a wish to disclose 
 circumstances and motives which were yet hardly a 
 suitable topic in a dialogue such as this. * I like the 
 atmosphere of a — of a comfortable home. No doubt I 
 should get on better — with things in general — if I had a 
 home of my own. I live in lodgings, you know ; my 
 sister lives wdth friends. Of course one has a sense of 
 freedom, but then ' 
 
 His voice murmured off into silence, and airain he beat 
 
BORN IN EXILE 139 
 
 the ground with his cane. Godwin was strongly interested 
 in this broken revelation ; he found it difficult to under- 
 stand Moxey's yearning for domesticity, all his own 
 impulses leading towards quite a contrary ideal. To him, 
 life in London lodgings made rich promise ; that indeed 
 would be freedom, and full of all manner of high 
 possibilities ! 
 
 Each communed with his thoughts. Happening to 
 glance at Christian, Godwin was struck with the graceful 
 attitude in which the young man reclined ; he himself 
 squatted awkwardly on the grass, unable to abandon him- 
 self in natural repose, even as he found it impossible to 
 talk with the ease of unconsciousness. The contrast, too, 
 between his garments, his boots, and those of the Londoner 
 was painful enough to him. AVithout being a dandy, 
 Christian, it was evident, gave a good deal of thought to 
 costume. That kind of thing had always excited Godwin's 
 contempt, but now he confessed himself envious ; doubt- 
 less, to be well dressed was a great step towards the 
 finished ease of wdiat is called a gentlemanly demeanour, 
 which he knew he was very far from having attained. 
 
 * Well,' exclaimed Christian, unexpectedly, * if I can 
 be of ever so little use to you, pray let me. I must 
 get back to town in a few days, but you know my 
 
140 BORN IN exilp: 
 
 address. Write to me, I beg, if you wish f(jr any more 
 information.' 
 
 The talk turned to less difficult topics. Godwin made 
 inquiries about Zurich, then about Switzerland in 
 ji^eneral. 
 
 ' Did you see much of the Alps ? ' 
 
 * Not as a climber sees them. That sort of tliincr isn't 
 in my way ; I haven't the energy — more's tlie pity. 
 Would you like to see a lot of good photographs I 
 brought back ? I have them here ; brought them to 
 show the girls.' 
 
 In spite of the five Miss Moxeys and Christian's sister, 
 Peak accepted the invitation to walk back witli his 
 companion, and presently they began to stroll towards 
 Twybridge. 
 
 ' I have an absurd tendency to dream — to lose myself 
 amid ideals — I don't quite know how to express it,' 
 Christian resumed, when both liad been silent for some 
 minutes. 'That's why I mean to go in earnestly for 
 science — as a corrective. Fortunately, I have to work for 
 ray living ; otherwise, I should moon my life away — 
 no doubt. My sister has ten times as much energy — 
 she knows much more than I do already. What a 
 splendid thing it is to be of an independent character ! 
 
BORN IN EXILE 141 
 
 I had rather be a self-reliant coal-heaver than a million- 
 aire of uncertain will. My uncle — there's a man who 
 knows his own mind. I respect those strong practical 
 natures. Don't be misled by ideals. Make the most 
 of your circumstances. Don't aim at — but I beg your 
 pardon ; I don't know what right I have to lecture you 
 in this way.' And he broke off with his pleasant, kind- 
 hearted laugh, colouring a little. 
 
 They reached Mr. Moxey's house. In a garden chair 
 on the lawn sat Miss Janet, occupied with a book. She 
 rose to meet them, shook hands with Godwin, and said 
 to her cousin : 
 
 'The postman has just left a letter for you — forwarded 
 from London.' 
 
 ' Indeed ? I'm going to show Mr. Peak my Swiss 
 photographs. You wouldn't care to come and help me 
 in the toil of turning them over ? ' 
 
 * lazy man ! ' 
 
 Her laugh was joyous. Any one less prejudiced than 
 Peak would have recognised the beauty wdiicli trans- 
 formed her homely features as she met Christian's look. 
 
 On the hall table lay the letter of which Janet had 
 spoken. Christian took it up, and Godwin, happening 
 at that moment to observe him, caught the tremor of 
 
142 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 a sudden emotion on lip and eyelid. Instantly, prompted 
 by he knew not wliat perception, he turned his gaze 
 to Janet, and in time to see that slie also was aware 
 of her cousin's strong interest in the letter, which was 
 at once put away in Christian's pocket. 
 
 They passed into the sitting - room, where a large 
 portfolio stood against the back of a chair. The half- 
 hour which ensued was to Godwin a time of uneasiness. 
 His pleasure in the photographs suffered disturbance 
 from a subtle stress on his nerves, due to something 
 indeterminable in the situation, of ^vhich he formed 
 a part. Janet's merry humour seemed to be subdued. 
 Christian was obviously forcing himself to entertain 
 the guest whilst his thoughts were elsewhere. As soon 
 as possible, Godwin rose to depart. He was just saying 
 good-bye to Janet, when Marcella entered the room. She 
 stood still, and Christian said, hurriedly : 
 
 * It's possible, IMarcella, that Mr. Peak will be coming 
 to London before long. We may have the pleasure 
 of seeing him there/ 
 
 'You will be glad, I'm sure,' answered his sister. 
 Then, as if forcing herself to address Peak directly, 
 she faced to him and added, ' It isn't easy to find 
 sympathetic companions ' 
 
BORN IN EXILE 143 
 
 ' r, at all events, haven't found very many/ Godwin 
 replied, meaning to speak in a tone only half-serious, 
 but conscious at once that he had made what might 
 seem an appeal for sympathy. Thereupon his pride 
 revolted, and in a moment drove him from the room. 
 
 Christian followed, and at the front door shook hands 
 \vith him. Nervous impatience was unmistakable in 
 the young man's look and words. Again Godwin 
 speculated on the meaning of this, and wondered, in 
 connection therewith, what were the characteristics 
 which Marcella Moxey looked for in a 'sympathetic 
 companion.' 
 
In the course of the afternoon, Godwin sat down to 
 pen the rough draft of a letter to Lady AVhitelaw. 
 When the first difficulties were surmounted, he wrote 
 rapidly, and at considerahle length. It was not easy, 
 at his time of life, to compress into the limits of an 
 ordinary epistle all he wished to say to the widow of 
 his benefactor. His purpose was, with all possible 
 respect yet as firmly as might be, to inform Lady 
 Whitelaw that he could not spend the last of his 
 proposed three years at the College in Kingsmill, and 
 furthermore to request of her that she would permit 
 his using the promised sum of money as a student at 
 the Eoyal School of Mines. This had to be done 
 without confession of the reasons for his change of plan ; 
 he could not even hint at them. Yet cause must be 
 assigned, and the best form of words he could excogitate 
 
 144 
 
BORN IN EXILE 145 
 
 ran thus : * Family circumstances render it desirable — 
 almost necessary — that I should spend the next twelve 
 months in London. In spite of sincere reluctance to 
 leave Whitelaw College, I am compelled to take this 
 step.' The lady must interpret that as best she might. 
 Very hard indeed was the task of begging a continuance 
 of her bounty under these changed conditions. Could 
 he but have resigned the money, all had been well ; 
 his tone might then have been dignified without effort. 
 But such disinterestedness he could not afford. His 
 mother might grant him money enough barely to live 
 upon until he discovered means of support — for his 
 education she was unable to pay. After more than 
 an hour's work he had moderately satisfied himself; 
 indeed, several portions of the letter struck him as 
 well composed, and he felt that they must heighten the 
 reader's interest in him. With an author's pleasure 
 (though at the same time with much uneasiness) he 
 perused the appeal again and again. 
 
 Late in the evening, when he was alone with his 
 moilier, he told her what he had done, and read the 
 letter for her opinion. Mrs. Peak was gravely troubled. 
 
 'Lady Whitelaw will ask her sisters for an explanation/ 
 she said. 
 
 VOL. I. 10 
 
146 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 * I have thought of that,' Godwin rej^lied, with the 
 confident, cheerful air he had assumed from the first. 
 ' If the Miss Lunibs go to aunt, slie must be prepared 
 to put them off in some way. But look liere, mother, 
 when uncle has opened his shop, it's pretty certain that 
 some one or other will hit on the true explanation of 
 my disappearance. Let them. Then Lady Whitelaw 
 will understand and forgive me.' 
 
 After much musing, the mother ventured a timid 
 question, the result of her anxieties rather than of her 
 judgment on the point at issue. 
 
 ' Godwin, dear, are you quite sure that his shop would 
 make so much difference ? ' 
 
 The young man gave a passionate start. 
 
 ' What ! To have the fellows going there to eat, and 
 
 hearing his talk, and ? Xot for a day could I bear 
 
 it ! Not for an hour ! ' 
 
 He was red with anticipated shame, and his voice 
 shook with indignation at the suggested martyrdom. 
 Mrs. Peak dried a tear. 
 
 ' You would be so alone in London, Godwin.' 
 
 ' Not a bit of it. Young Mr. ^loxey will be a useful 
 friend, 1 am convinced he will. To tell you the whole 
 truth, I aim at getting a place at the works in Piother- 
 
BORN IN EXILE 147 
 
 liitlie, where he no doubt has influence. You see, mother, 
 I might manage it even before tlie end of the year. Our 
 Mr. Moxey will be disposed to help me with his 
 recommendation.' 
 
 'But, my dear, w^ouldn't it come to the same thing, 
 then, if you went back to Mr. Moxey 's ? ' 
 
 He made a gesture of impatience. 
 
 ' No, no, no ! I couldn't live . at Twybridge. I have 
 my way to make, mother, and the place for that is 
 London. You know^ I am ambitious. Trust me for a 
 year or two, and see the result. I depend upon your 
 help in this whole affair. Don't refuse it me. I have done 
 with Whitelaw, and I have done with Twybridge : now 
 comes London. You can't regard me as a boy, you know.' 
 
 ' No— but ' 
 
 * But me no buts ! ' he cried, laughing excitedly. * The 
 thing is settled. As soon as possible in the morning I 
 post this letter. I feel it will be successful See aunt 
 to-morrow, and get her support. Mind that Charlotte 
 and Oliver don't talk to people. If you all use discretion, 
 there's no need for any curiosity to be excited.' 
 
 When Godwin had taken a resolve, there was no 
 domestic influence strong enough to prevent his acting 
 upon it. Mrs. Peak's ignorance of the world, her mild 
 
148 BORN IX KXILE 
 
 passivity, and the faith slic liad in ht-r son's intellectual 
 resources, made her useless as a counsellor, and from no 
 one else — now tliat 'Mr. Gunnery was dead — would the 
 young man have dreamt of seeking guidance. "Whatever 
 Lady Whitelaw's reply, he had made up his mind to go to 
 London. Should liis subsidy be refused, then he would live 
 on what his mother could allow him until — proljaUy with 
 the aid of Christian Moxey — he might obtain a salaried 
 position. The letter was dispatched, and witli feverish 
 impatience he awaited a reply. 
 
 Nine days passed, and he heard nothing. Half that 
 delay sufficed to bring out all the self - tormenting 
 capacities of a nature such as his. To his mother's con- 
 jectural explanations he could lend no ear. Doubtless Lady 
 AVhitelaw (against whom, for subtle reasons, he was 
 already prejudiced) had taken offence ; either she would 
 not reply at all, or presently there would come a few lines 
 of polite displeasure, intimating her disinclination to aid 
 his project. He silently raged against ' the woman.' Her 
 neglect was insolence. Had she not delicacy enough to 
 divine the anxiety natural to one in his dependent posi- 
 tion ? Did she take him for an cvery-day writer of 
 mendicant appeals? His pride fed upon the outrage 
 and became fierce. 
 
BORN IN EXILE 149 
 
 Then arrived a small glossy envelope, containing a tiny 
 sheet of very thick note-paper, whereon it was written that 
 Lady Whitelaw regretted her tardiness in replying to him 
 (caused by her absence from home), and hoped he would 
 be able to call upon her, at ten o'clock next morning, at 
 the house of her sisters, the Misses Lumb, where she was 
 stopping for a day — she remained his sincerely. 
 
 Having duly contorted this note into all manner of 
 painful meanings, Godwin occupied an hour in making 
 himself presentable (scornful that he should deem such 
 trouble necessary), and with furiously beating heart set 
 out to w^alk through Twybridge. Arrived at the housed he 
 was led by a servant into the front room on the ground 
 floor, where Lady Whitelaw, alone, sat reading a news- 
 paper. Her features were of a very common order, and 
 nothing distinguished her from middle-aged women of 
 average refinement ; she had chubby hands, rather broad 
 shoulders, and no visible waist. The scrutiny she bestowed 
 upon her visitor was close. To Godwin's feelings it too 
 much resembled that with which she would have received 
 an applicant for the post of footman. Yet her smile was 
 friendly enough, and no lack of civility appeared in the 
 repetition of her excuses for having replied so late. 
 
 'Let us talk about this,' she began, when Godwin was 
 
150 BORN IX EXILE 
 
 uneasily seated. (She spoke with an excess of precision, 
 as though it had at one time been needful for her to pre- 
 meditate polished phrases.) ' I am very sorry you should 
 have to think of quitting the College ; very sorry indeed. 
 You are one of the students wlio do honour to the 
 institution.' 
 
 This was pleasant, and Godwin felt a regret of the con- 
 straint that was upon him. In his endeavour not to 
 display a purring smile, he looked grim, as if the compli- 
 ment were beneath his notice. 
 
 'Pray don't think,' she pursued, 'that I wish you to 
 speak more fully about the private circumstances you refer 
 to in your letter. But do let me ask you : Is your decision 
 final ? Are you sure that when the vacations are over you 
 will see things just as you do now ? ' 
 
 ' I am quite sure of it,' he replied. 
 
 The emphasis was merely natural to him. He could 
 not so govern his voice as to convey the respectful regret 
 which at this moment he felt. A younger lady, one who 
 had heightened the charm of her compliment with subtle 
 harmony of tones and strongly feminine gaze, would per- 
 haps have elicited from him a free confession. Gratitude 
 and admiration would have made him capable of such 
 frankness. But in the face of this newspaper- reading 
 
BORN IN EXILE 151 
 
 woman (yes, he had unaccountably felt it jar upon him 
 that a lady should be reading a newspaper), under her 
 matronly smile, he could do no more than plump out his 
 * quite sure.' To Lady Whitelaw it sounded altogether too 
 curt ; she was conscious of her position as patroness, and 
 had in fact thought it likely that the young man would be 
 disposed to gratify her curiosity in some measure. 
 
 ' I can only say that I am sorry to hear it,' fell from her 
 tightened lips, after a moment's pause. 
 
 Instantly Godwin's pride expelled the softer emotion. 
 He pressed hard with his feet upon the floor, every nerve 
 in his body tense with that distressing passion peculiar to 
 the shyly arrogant. Eegard him, and you had imagined 
 he was submitting to rebuke for an offence he could not 
 deny. 
 
 Lady Whitelaw waited. A minute, almost, and Peak 
 gave no sign of opening his mouth. 
 
 'It is certainly much to be regretted,' she said at length, 
 coolly. ' Of course, I don't know what prospects you may 
 have in London, but, if you had remained at the College, 
 somethincf advantaixeous would no doubt have offered 
 before longj.' 
 
 There went small tact to the wordinc^ of this admoni- 
 tion. Impossible for Lady Whitelaw to understand the 
 
152 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 complexities of a character such as Godwin's, even had 
 she enjoyed opportunities of studying it ; but many a 
 woman of the world would have directed herself more 
 cautiously after reading that letter of his. Peak's im- 
 pulse was to thank her for the past, and declare that 
 henceforth he would dispense with aid ; only the choking 
 in his throat obstructed some such utterance. He 
 resented profoundly her supposition (natural enough) that 
 his chief aim was to establish himself in a self-supporting 
 career. What ? Am I to be grateful for a mere chance 
 of earning my living ? Have I not shown that I am 
 capable of something more than the ordinary lot in life ? 
 From the heights of her assured independence, does she 
 look down upon me as a young man seeking a * place ' ? 
 He was filled with wrath, and all because a good, common- 
 place woman could not divine that he dreamt of European 
 fame. 
 
 * I am very sorry that I can't take that into account,' 
 lie managed to say. ' I wish to give this next year 
 exclusively to scientific study, and after that I sliall see 
 what course is open to me.' 
 
 He was not of the men who can benefit by patronage 
 and be simply grateful for it. His position was a false 
 one : to be begging with awkward show of thankfulness 
 
BORN IN EXILE 153 
 
 for a benefaction which in his heart he detested. He 
 knew himself for an undesigning hypocrite, and felt that 
 he might as well have been a rascal complete. Grati- 
 tude ! No man capable of it in fuller measure than he ; 
 but not to such persons as Lady Whitelaw\ Before old 
 Sir Job he could more easily Jiave bowed himself. But 
 this woman represented the superiority of mere brute 
 wealth, against which his soul rebelled. 
 
 There was another disagreeable silence, during which 
 Lady AVhitelaw commented on her protege very much as 
 Mrs. Warricombe had done. 
 
 •Will you allow me to ask,' she said at length, with 
 cold politeness, ' whether you have acquaintances in 
 London ? ' 
 
 ' Yes. I know some one who studied at the School of 
 Mines.' 
 
 'Well, Mr. Peak, I see that your mind is made up. 
 And no doubt you are the best judge of your private 
 circumstances. I must ask you to let me think over 
 the matter for a day or two. I will write to you.' 
 
 'And I to you,' thought Godwin; a resolve which 
 enabled him to rise with something like a conventional 
 smile, and thus put an end to a very brief and quite 
 unsatisfactory interview. 
 
154 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 He strode homewards in a state of feverish excitement. 
 His own behaviour had been wretchedly clownish ; he 
 was only too well aware of that. He ought to have put 
 aside all the grosser aspects of his case, and have exhibited 
 the purely intellectual motives w^hich made such a change 
 as he purposed seem desirable to him. That would have 
 been to act with dignity ; that would have been the very 
 best form of gratitude for the kindness he had received. 
 But no, his accursed lack of self-possession had ruined all. 
 ' The woman ' was now offended in good earnest ; he saw 
 it in her face at parting. The fault was admittedly on his 
 side, but what right had. she to talk about 'something 
 advantageous ' ? She would write to him, to be sure ; 
 that meant, she could not yet make up her mind whether 
 to grant the money or not. Pluto take the money! 
 Long before sitting down to her glossy note-paper she 
 should have received a letter from him. 
 
 Composed already. Now he was up in the garret bed- 
 room, scribbling as fast as pen could fly over paper. He 
 had been guilty of a mistake— so ran the epistle; having 
 decided to leave Whitelaw, he ought never to have 
 requested a continuance of the pension. He begged Lady 
 Whitelaw would forgive this thoughtless impropriety; 
 she had made him understand the full extent of his error. 
 
BORN IN EXILE 155 
 
 Of course he could not accept anything more from her. 
 As for the past, it would be idle for him to attempt an 
 expression of his indebtedness. But for Sir Job's munifi- 
 cence, he must now have been struggling to complete a 
 radically imperfect education, — ' instead of going into tlie 
 world to make a place for myself among the scientific 
 investigators of our time.' 
 
 One's claims to respectful treatment must be put 
 forward unmistakably, especially in dealing with such 
 people as Lady AVhitelaw. Now, perhaps, she would 
 understand what his reserve concealed. The satisfaction 
 of declining further assistance was enormous. He read his 
 letter several times aloud. This was the great style ; he 
 could imagine this incident forming a landmark in the 
 biography of a notable man. Now for a fair copy, and in 
 a hand, mind you, that gave no hint of his care for 
 caligraphic seemliness : bold, forthright. 
 
 The letter in his pocket, he went downstairs. His 
 mother had been out all the morning ; now she was just 
 returned, and Godwin saw trouble on her forehead. 
 Anxiously she inquired concerning the result of his 
 interview. 
 
 Now that it was necessary to make an intelligible 
 report of what had happened, Godwin found his tongue 
 
15G BORN IN p:xile 
 
 falter. How could he convey to another the intangible 
 sense of wounded dignity which had impelled his pen ? 
 Instead of producing the letter with a flourish, he answered 
 with affected carelessness : 
 
 * I am to hear in a day or two.' 
 
 ' Did she seem to take it — in the right way ? ' 
 
 ' She evidently thinks of me too much as a schoolboy.' 
 
 And he began to pace the room. Mrs. Peak sat still, 
 with an air of anxious brooding. 
 
 'You don't think she will refuse, Godwin?' fell from 
 lier presently. 
 
 Ilis hand closed on the letter. 
 
 ' Why ? Well, in that case I should go to London and 
 find some occupation as soon as possible. You could still 
 let me have the same money as before ? ' 
 
 ' Yes.' 
 
 It was said absently, and did not satisfy Godwin. In 
 the course of the conversation it appeared that ]\Irs. Peak 
 had that morning been to see the legal friend who looked 
 after her small concerns, and though she would not admit 
 that she had any special cause for uneasiness, her son 
 recalled similar occasions when an interview with Mr. 
 Dutch had been followed by several days' gloom. The 
 truth was that Mrs. Peak could not live strictly within 
 
BOr.N IN EXILE 157 
 
 the income at her disposal, and on being from time to 
 time reminded of this, she was oppressed by passing 
 worry. If Godwin and Oliver 'got on well/ things wouki 
 come all right in the end, but in the meantime she could 
 not face additional expenditure. Godwin did not like to 
 be reminded of the razor's edge on which the affairs of the 
 household were balanced. At present it brought about a 
 very sudden change in his state of mind ; he went upstairs 
 again, and sat with the letter before him, sunk in misery. 
 The reaction had sjiven him a headache. 
 
 A fortnight, and no word from Lady Whitelaw. But 
 neither was Godwin's letter posted. 
 
 Was he at liberty to indulge the self-respect which 
 urged him to write ? In a moment of heated confidence 
 it was all very well to talk of ' getting some occupation ' 
 in London, but he knew that this might prove no easy 
 matter. A year's v/ork at the School of Mines would 
 decidedly facilitate his endeavour; and, seeing that his 
 mother's peace depended upon his being speedily self- 
 supporting, was it not a form of selfishness to reject help 
 from one who could well afford it ? From a distance, he 
 regarded Lady Whitelaw with more charity ; a longer talk 
 with her might have led to better mutual apprehension. 
 And, after all, it was not she but her husband to whom 
 
158 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 he would stand indebted. Sir Job was a very kind- 
 hearted old fellow ; he had meant thoroughly well. AVhy, 
 clearly, the bestower of tliis third year's allowance would 
 not be Lady Whitelaw at all. 
 
 If it were granted. Godwin began to suiler a trouble- 
 some misgiving ; perchance he had gone too far, and was 
 now, in fact, abandoned to his own resources. 
 
 Three weeks. Then came tlie expected letter, and, as 
 he opened it, his heart leaped at the sight of a cheque — 
 talisman of unrivalled power over the emotions of the 
 moneyless ! Lady Whitelaw wrote briefly and formally. 
 Having considered Godwin's request, she had no reason 
 for doubting that he would make a good use of the pro- 
 posed year at the School of Mines, and accordingly she 
 sent him the sum which Sir Job had intended for his 
 final session at Whitelaw College. She wished him all 
 benefit from his studies, and prosperity hencefortli. 
 
 Rejoicing, thougli shame-smitten, Godwin exhibited this 
 remittance to his mother, from whom it drew a deep sigh 
 of relief. And forthwith he sat down to write quite a 
 different letter from that whicli still lay in his private 
 drawer, — a letter which he strove to make the justification 
 (to his own mind) of this descent to humility. At con- 
 siderable length he dwelt upon the change of tastes of 
 
BORN IN EXILE 159 
 
 which he had been conscious lately, and did not fail to 
 make obvious the superiority of his ambition to all 
 thought of material advancement. He offered his thanks, 
 and promised to give an account of himself (as in duty 
 bound) at the close of the twelvemonths' study he was 
 about to undertake : a letter in which the discerning 
 would have read much sincerity, and some pathos ; after 
 all, not a letter to be ashamed of. Lady Whitelaw w^ould 
 not understand it; but then, how many people are 
 capable of even faintly apprehending the phenomena of 
 mental growth ? 
 
 And now to plan seriously his mode of life in London. 
 With Christian Moxey he was so slightly acquainted that 
 it w^as impossible to seek his advice with regard to lodg- 
 ings ; besides, the lodgings must be of a character far too 
 modest to come within Mr. Moxey's sphere of observation. 
 Other acquaintance he had none in the capital, so it was 
 clear that he must enter boldly upon the unknown world, 
 and find a home for himself as best he might. Mrs. Peak 
 could offer suggestions as to likely localities, and this was 
 of course useful help. In the meantime (for it would be 
 waste of money to go up till near the end of the holiday 
 season) he made schemes of study and completed his in- 
 formation concerning the School of Mines. So far from 
 
160 BORN IN i:XILK 
 
 lamenting tlie interruption of his promi.-iing career at 
 Whitelaw, he persuaded himself that Uncle Andrew had 
 in truth done liim a very good turn : now at length he 
 was fixed in the right course. The only tiling he regretted 
 was losing sight of his two or three student-friends, 
 especially Earwaker and Buckland Warricombe. They, 
 to be sure, would soon guess the reason of his disappear- 
 ance. Would they join in the laughter certain to be 
 excited by ' Peak's Dining and Eefreshment Eooms ' ? 
 Probably ; how could they help it ? Earwaker might be 
 superior to a prejudice of that kind; his own connections 
 were of humble standing. But Warricombe must wince 
 and shrug his shoulders. Perhaps even some of the 
 Professors ^vould have their attention directed to the 
 ludicrous mishap : they were gentlemen, and, even though 
 they smiled, must certainly sympathise with him. 
 
 Wait a little. Whitelaw College should yet remember 
 the student who seemed to have vanished amid the world's 
 obscure tumult. 
 
 Eesolved that he was about to turn his back on Twy- 
 bridge for ever, he found the conditions of life there quite 
 supportable through this last month or two; the family 
 reaped benefit from his improved temper. Even to 'Mv. 
 Cusse he behaved with modified contempt. Oliver was 
 
BORN IN EXILE IGl 
 
 jiulicious enough to suppress liis nigger minstrelsy and 
 kindred demonstrations of spirit in his brother's presence, 
 and Charlotte, though steadily resentful, did her best to 
 avoid conflict. 
 
 Through the Misses Lumb, Godwin's change of purpose 
 had of course become known to his aunt, who for a time 
 took it ill that these debates had been concealed from her. 
 When Mrs. Peak, in confidence, apprised her of the dis- 
 turbing cause. Miss Cadman's indignation knew no bounds. 
 AVhat! That low fellow had been allowed to interfere 
 with the progress of Godwin Peak's education, and not a 
 protest uttered ? He should have heen /orhidden to estab- 
 lish himself in Kingsmill ! Why had they not taken Jier 
 into council ? She would have faced the man, and have 
 overawed him ; he should have been made to understand 
 the gross selfishness of his behaviour. Xever had she 
 heard of such a monstrous case 
 
 Godwin spent much time in quiet examination of the 
 cabinets bequeathed to him by Mr. Gunnery. He used a 
 pound or two of Lady Whitelaw's money for the purchase 
 of scientific books, and set to work upon them witli 
 freshened zeal. The early morning and late evening were 
 given to country walks, from which he always returned 
 
 VOL. 1. II 
 
162 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 with brain excited by the forecast of great achieve- 
 ments. 
 
 When the time of his departure approached, he decided 
 to pay a farewell visit to Mr. Moxey. He chose an hour 
 when the family would probably be taking their ease in 
 the garden. Three of the ladies were, in fact, amusing 
 themselves with croquet, while their father, pipe in mouth, 
 bent over a bed of calceolarias. 
 
 ' What's this that I hear ? ' exclaimed !Mr. Moxey, 
 as he shook hands. 'You are not going back to 
 Whitelaw ? ' 
 
 The story had of course spread among all Twybridge 
 people who knew anything of the Peaks, and it was gener- 
 ally felt that some mystery was involved. Godwin had 
 reasonably feared that his obligations to Sir Job Whitelaw 
 must become known ; impossible for such a matter to be 
 kept secret ; all who took any interest in the young man 
 had long been privately acquainted with the facts of his 
 position. Now that discussion was rife, it would have 
 been prudent in the Misses Lumb to divulge as much of 
 the truth at they knew, but (in accordance with the law 
 of natural perversity) they maintained a provoking silence. 
 Hence wliispers and suspicious questions, all wide of the 
 mark. No one had as yet heard of Andrew Peak, and it 
 
BORN IN EXILE 1G3 
 
 seemed but too likely that Lady Wliitelaw, for some good 
 reason, had declined to discharge the expenses of Godwin's 
 last year at the College. 
 
 Mr. Moxey himself felt that an explanation was desir- 
 able, but he listened with his usual friendly air to 
 Godwin's account of the matter — which of course included 
 no mention of Lady Whitelaw. 
 
 ' Have you friends in London ? ' he inquired — like every- 
 one else. 
 
 'No. Except that your nephew was so kind as 
 to ask me to call on him, if ever I happened to be 
 there.' 
 
 There passed over Mr. Moxey's countenance a curious 
 shadow. Godwin noticed it, and at once concluded that 
 the manufacturer condemned Christian for undue advances 
 to one below his own station. The result of this surmise 
 was of course a sudden coldness on Godwin's part, 
 increased when he found that Mr. Moxey turned to 
 another subject, without a word about liis nephew. 
 
 In less than ten minutes he offered to take leave, and 
 no one urged him to stay longer. ^Ir. Moxey made sober 
 expression of good wishes, and hoped he might hear that 
 the removal to London had proved ' advantageous.' This 
 word sufficed to convert Godwin's irritation into wrath ; 
 
164 BORN IX EXILE 
 
 he said an aLrupt 'good-evening,' raised liis liat as 
 awkwardly as usual, and stalked away. 
 
 A few 2)aces from tlie garden gate, lie encountered Miss 
 Janet Moxey, just coming home from walk or visit. 
 Another grab at his hat, and he would have passed 
 without a word, but the girl stopped liim. 
 
 * We hear that you are going to London, 'Sh\ Peak.' 
 
 * Yes, I am, Miss Moxey.' 
 
 Slie examined his face, and seemed to hesitate. 
 
 * Perhaps you have just been to say good-bye to father? ' 
 
 * Yes.' 
 
 Janet paused, looked away, again turned her eyes upon 
 him. 
 
 ' You have friends there, I hope ? ' she ventured. 
 
 ' No, I have none.' 
 
 'My cousin — Christian, you remember — would, I am 
 sure, be very glad to help you in any way.' Her voice 
 sank, and at the same time she coloured just perceptibly 
 under Godwin's gaze. 
 
 * So he assured me,' was the reply. * But I must learn 
 to be independent, Miss Moxey.* 
 
 Whereupon Godwin performed a salute, and marthcd 
 forward. 
 
BORN IN EXILE 165 
 
 His boxes were packed, and now he had but one more 
 evening in the old liome. It was made less pleasant than 
 it might have been by a piece of information upon whicli 
 he by chance alighted in a newspaper. The result of the 
 Honours examination for the First B.A. at London had just 
 been made known, and in two subjects a high place was 
 assigned to Bruno Leathwaite Chilvers — not the first place 
 happily, but it w\ns disagreeable enougli. 
 
 Pooh ! what matter ? What are academic successes ? 
 Ten years hence, which name would have wilder recogni- 
 tion — Bruno Chilvers or Godwin Peak ? He laughed witli 
 scornful superiority. 
 
 Xo one was to accompany him to the station ; on that 
 he insisted. He had decided for as early a train as pos- 
 sible, that the dolours of leave-taking might be abridged. 
 At a quarter to eight the cab drove up to the door. Out 
 wdth the trunks labelled ' London ' ! 
 
 'Take care of the cabinets !' were his last words to his 
 mother. ' I may want to have them sent before long.' 
 
 He implied, what he had not ventured to say plainly, 
 that he was leaving Twybridge for good, and henceforth 
 would not think of it as home. In these moments of 
 parting, he resented the natural feeling which brought 
 moisture to his eves. He hardened himself at^^ainst the ties 
 
16.6 BORN IN p:xile 
 
 of blood, and kept repeating to liiniself a phrase in wliicli 
 of late lie bad sumnied liis miseries : ' I was born in exile 
 — born in exile.' Now at lengtli bad be set forth on a 
 voyage of discovery, to end percliance in some unknown 
 land among bis spiritual kith and kin. 
 
PART THE SECOND 
 
PAKT THE SECOND 
 
 In the spring of 1882 Mr. Jarvis Pamcorn, editor and co- 
 proprietor of the London Weekly Post, was looking about 
 for a young man of journalistic promise ^^llom he might 
 associate with himself in the conduct of that long estab- 
 lished Eadical paper. The tale of his years warned him 
 that he could not hope to support much longer a burden 
 which necessarily increased with the growing range and 
 complexity of public affairs. Hitherto he had been the 
 autocrat of the office, but competing Sunday papers exacted 
 an alertness, a versatile vigour, such as only youth can 
 supply ; for there was felt to be a danger tliat the 
 Weekly Post might lose its prestige in democratic journal- 
 ism. Thus on the watch, Mr. Euncorn — a wary man of 
 business, who had gone through many trades before he 
 reached that of weekly literature — took counsel one day 
 with a fellow-campaigner, Malkin by name, who owned 
 
170 BOIIN IN EXILE 
 
 two or three country newspapers, and liaJ reaped from 
 them a considerable fortune ; in consequence, his attention 
 was directed to one John Earwaker, then editing the 
 WaUlcboroiigh Courier. Mr. Malkin's eldest son had 
 recently stood as Liberal candidate for Wattleborough, and 
 though defeated was loud in his praise of the Courier ; 
 with its editor he had come to be on terms of intimate 
 friendship. Earwaker was well acquainted with journal- 
 istic life in the provinces. He sprang from a humble 
 family living at Kingsmill, had studied at Whitelaw 
 College, and was now but nine-and-twenty : the style of 
 his ^ leaders ' seemed to mark him for a wider sphere of 
 work. It was decided to invite him to London, and the 
 young man readily accepted Mr. ramcorn's proposals. A 
 few months later he exchanged temporary lodgings for 
 chambers in Staple Inn, where he surrounded himself with 
 plain furniture and many books. 
 
 In personal appearance he had changed a good deal 
 since that prize-day at Whitelaw when his success as 
 versifier and essayist foretold a literary career. His 
 figure was no longer ungainly ; the big lioad seemed to lit 
 better upon the narrow shoulders. He neither walked 
 with extravagant paces, nor waved his arms like a wind- 
 mill. A sufticiency of good food, and the habit of inter- 
 
BORN IN EXILE 171 
 
 course with active men, had given liini an every-clay 
 aspect; perhaps tlie sole peculiarity he retained from 
 student times was his hollow chuckle of mirth, a laugli 
 which struggled vainly for enlargement. He dressed with 
 conventional decency, even submitting to the cbimney-pot 
 hat. His features betrayed connection with a physically 
 coarse stock ; but to converse with him was to discover 
 the man of original vigour and wide intellectual scope. 
 With ordinary companions, it was a rare thing for him to 
 speak of his professional interests. But for his position on 
 The WceJdy Post it would not have been easy to surmise 
 how he stood with regard to politics, and he appeared to 
 lean as often towards the conservative as to the revolu- 
 tionary view of abstract questions. 
 
 The newspaper left him time for other literary work, 
 and it was known to a few people that he WTote with some 
 regularity for reviews, but all the products of his pen were 
 anonymous. A fact which remained his own secret was 
 that he provided for the subsistence of his parents, old 
 people domiciled in a quiet corner of their native Kingsmill. 
 The strict sobriety of life which is indispensable to success 
 in such a career as this cost liira no effort. He smoked 
 moderately, ate and drank as little as might be, could keep 
 his health on six hours of sleep, and for an occasional 
 
172 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 holiday liked to walk his twenty or thirty miles. Ear- 
 waker was naturally marked for survival among the fittest 
 
 On an evening of June in the year '84, lie was inter- 
 rupted whilst equipping himself for dinner abroad, by a 
 thunderous rat-tat-tat. 
 
 ' You must wait, my friend, whoever you are,' he 
 murmured placidly, as he began to struggle with the stiff 
 button-holes of liis shirt. 
 
 The knock was repeated, and more violently. 
 
 'Now there's only one man of my acquaintance wlio 
 knocks like that,' he mused, elaborating the bow of his 
 white tie. * He, I should imagine, is in Brazil ; but there's 
 no knowing. Perhaps our ofhce is on fire. — Anon, anon ! * 
 
 He made haste to don waistcoat and swallow-tail, then 
 crossed his sitting-room and flung open the door of the 
 chambers. 
 
 * Ha ! Then it is you I I was reminded of your patient 
 habits.' 
 
 A tall man, in a li<dit overcoat and a straw hat of 
 spacious brim, had seized both his hands, with shouts of 
 excited greeting. 
 
 * Confound you ! AVhy did you keep mo waiting ? I 
 thought I had missed you for the evening. How the 
 
BORN IN EXILE 173 
 
 deuce are you ? And why the devil liave you left me 
 without a line from you for more than six months ? ' 
 
 Earwaker drew aside, and allowed his tumultuous friend 
 to rush into the nearest room. 
 
 * Why haven't you written ? — confound you ! ' was again 
 vociferated, amid bursts of boyish laughter. ' Why hasn't 
 anybody written ? ' 
 
 ' If everybody was as well informed of your movements 
 as I, I don't wonder,' replied the journalist. ' Since you 
 left Buenos Ayres, I have had two letters, each containing 
 twenty words, which gave me to understand that no 
 answer could by possibility reach you.' 
 
 'Humbug! You could have written to half-a-dozen 
 likely places. Did I really say that ? Ha, ha, ha ! — 
 Shake hands again, confound you ! How do you do ? 
 Do I look well ? Have I a tropical colour ? I say, 
 what a blessed thing it was that I got beaten down at 
 Wattleborousih ! All this time I should liave been sittino- 
 in tlie fog at Westminster. What a time I've had ! 
 What a time I've had ' ' 
 
 It was more than twelve months since Malkin's depar- 
 ture from England. Though sun and sea had doubtless 
 contributed to his robustness, he nnist always have been 
 a fair example of the vigorous Briton. His broad 
 
174 BOKN IN p:xrLE 
 
 shoulders, uprig]it bearing, oi)en countenance, and frank 
 resonant voice, declared a youth passed amid the whole- 
 some conditions which wealth alone can command. The 
 hearty extravagance of his friendliness was only possible 
 in a man wlio has never been humiliated by circum- 
 stances, never restricted in his natural needs of body 
 and mind. Yet he had more than the heartiness of a 
 contented Englishman. The vivacity which made a whirl- 
 wind about him probably indicated some ancestral ming- 
 ling with the blood of a more ardent race. Earwaker 
 examined him with a smile of pleasure. 
 
 * It's unfortunate/ he said, ' that I have to go out to 
 dinner.' 
 
 * Dinner ! Pooh ! we can get dinner anywhere.' 
 
 * No doubt, but I am engaged.' 
 
 ' The devil you are ! Who is she ? Why didn't you 
 write to tell me ? ' 
 
 * The word has a less specific meaning, my dear fellow,' 
 replied Earwaker, laughing. * Only you of all men would 
 have rushed at the wrong one. I mean to say — if your 
 excitement can take in so common a fact — that I have 
 promised to dine with some people at Xotting Hill, and 
 mustn't disappoint them.' 
 
 Malkin laughed at his mistake, then shouted : 
 
BORN IN EXILE 175 
 
 * Netting Hill ! Isn't that somewhere near Fiilham ? 
 We'll take a cab, and I can drop you on my way.' 
 
 ' It wouldn't be on the way at all.' 
 
 The journalist's quiet explanation was cut short by a 
 petulant outcry. 
 
 ' Oh, very well ! Of course if you want to get rid of 
 me ! I should have thought after sixteen months ' 
 
 * Don't be idiotic,' broke in the other. ' There's a strong 
 feminine element in you, Malkin ; that's exactly the 
 kind of talk with which women drive men to frenzy.* 
 
 * Feminine element ! ' shouted the traveller with hot 
 face. ' What do you mean ? I propose to take a cab with 
 you, and you ' 
 
 Earwaker turned away laughing. 'Time and distance 
 are nothing to you, and I shall be very glad of your 
 company. Come by all means.' 
 
 His friend was instantly appeased. 
 
 * Don't let me make you late, Earwaker. Must we 
 start this moment ? Come along, then. Can I carry 
 anything for you ? liOrd ! if you could only see a tropical 
 forest ! How do you get on with old Euncorn ? JFrite ? 
 What the devil was the use of my writing, when words 
 
 are powerless to describe ? What a rum old place 
 
 this seems, after experiences like mine ; how the deuce 
 
176 BORN IN EXIl.E 
 
 can you live liere ? I say, I've brouglit you a ton of 
 curiosities; will make your rooms look like a museum. 
 Confound it ! I've broken my shin against the turn in 
 the staircase! Whew! Who are you going to dine 
 with ? — Moxey ? Never heard the name.' 
 
 In Holborn a hansom was hailed, and the friends con- 
 tinued their dialogue as they drove westward. Having 
 as length effervesced, Malkin began to exchange question 
 and answer with something: of the calm needful for mutual 
 intelligibility. 
 
 'And how do you get on with old liuncorn ? ' 
 
 'As well as can be expected where there is not a single 
 subject of agreement,' Earwaker replied. ' I have hopes 
 of reducing our circulation.' 
 
 * What the deuce do you mean ? ' 
 
 ' In other words, of improving the paper. Euncorn is 
 strong on the side of blackguardism. We had a great 
 fight the other day over a leader offered by Kenyon, — 
 a true effusion of the political gutter-snipe. I refused 
 point-blank to let it go in ; liuncorn swore that, if I did 
 not, / should go out. I offered to retire that moment. 
 " We must write for our public," he bellowed. " True," 
 said I, "but not necessarily for the basest among them. 
 The standard at the best is low enough." " Do you call 
 
BORN IN EXILE 177 
 
 yourself a Eadical ? " " Not if this be Radicalism." 
 " You ought to be on the Morning instead of the Weekly 
 Post." I had my way, and probably shall end by sending 
 Mr. Kenyon back to his tinker's work shop. If not, I 
 must look out for cleaner occupation.' 
 
 ' Go it, my boy ! Go it ! ' cried Malkiu, slapping his 
 companion's knee violently. ' Eaise the tone ! To the 
 devil with mercenary considerations ! Help the proletariat 
 out of its grovelling position.' 
 
 They approached the street where Earwaker had to 
 alio'ht. The other declared his intention of diivingj on 
 to Fulham in the hope of finding a friend who lived 
 there. 
 
 ' But I must see you again. When shall you be home 
 to-night ? ' 
 
 ' About half-past eleven, I dare say.' 
 
 ' Eight ! If I am free I'll come out to Sta]3le Inn, and 
 we'll talk till three or four.' 
 
 The house at which the journalist presented himself 
 was such as might be inhabited by a small family of 
 easy means. As he was taking off his overcoat, a door 
 opened and Christian Moxey came forward to greet him. 
 They shook hands like men who stood on friendly, but 
 not exactly on intimate, terms. 
 
 VOL. I. 12 
 
178 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 ' Will you come up to the laboratory for a moment ? ' 
 said Moxey. ' I should like to show you something I 
 have under the microscope.' 
 
 The room he spoke of was at the top of the house ; two 
 chambers had been made into one, and the fittings were 
 those required by a student of physical science. Various 
 odours distressed the air. A stranger to the pursuits 
 represented might have thought that the general disorder 
 and encumberment indicated great activity, but the experi- 
 enced eye perceived at once that no methodical work was 
 here in progress. Mineralogy, botany, biology, physics, 
 and probably many other sciences, were suggested by the 
 specimens and apparatus that lay confusedly on tables,. 
 shelves, or floor. 
 
 Moxey looked very slim and elegant in his evening 
 costume. When he touched any object, his long, trans- 
 lucent fingers seemed soft and sensitive as a girl's. He 
 stepped with peculiar lightness, and the harmonious notes 
 of his voice were in keeping with these other character- 
 istics. Ten years had developed in him that graceful 
 languor which at four-and-twenty was only beginning to 
 get mastery over the energies of a well-built frame. 
 
 *This stuff here,' he said, pointing to an open box full 
 of mud, * is silt from down the Thames. It's positively 
 
BORN IN EXILE 179 
 
 loaded with dlatomacccc, — you remember our talking 
 about them when you were last here ? I am working at 
 the fabric of the valves. Now, just look ! ' 
 
 Earwaker, with attentive smile, followed the demonstra- 
 tion. 
 
 'Peak is busy with them as well,' said Christian, 
 presently. * Has he told you his theory of their locomo- 
 tion ? Nobody has found out yet how the little beggars 
 move about. Peak has a bright idea.' 
 
 They spent ten minutes in the laboratory, then went 
 down-stairs. Two other guests had meanwhile arrived, 
 and were conversing with the hostess. Miss Moxey. The 
 shy, awkward, hard-featured girl was grown into a woman 
 whose face made such declaration of intellect and char- 
 acter that, after the first moment, one became indifferent 
 to its lack of feminine beauty. As if with the idea of 
 compensating for personal disadvantages, she was ornately 
 dressed ; her abundant tawny hair had submitted to 
 much manipulation, and showed the gleam of jewels ; 
 expense and finished craft were manifest in every detail 
 of her garb. Though slightly round-shouldered, her form 
 was well - proportioned and suggested natural vigour. 
 Like Christian, she had delicate hands. 
 
 * Do you know a distinguished clergyman, named 
 
180 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 Chilvers ? ' she asked of Earwaker, with a Laugh, when 
 he had taken a phace by her. 
 
 ' Chilvers ? — Is it Bruno Chilvers, I wonder ? ' 
 
 ' That's the name ! ' exclaimed one of the guests, a 
 young married lady of eager face and fidgety manners. 
 
 ' Then I knew him at College, but I had no idea he 
 was become distinguished.' 
 
 Miss Moxey again laughed. 
 
 'Isn't it amusing, the narrowness of a great clerical 
 reputation? Mrs. Morton was astonished that I had 
 never heard his name.' 
 
 ' Please don't think,' appealed the lady, looking 
 anxiously at Earwaker, ' that I consider it shameful not 
 to know him. I only happened to mention a very 
 ridiculous sermon of his, that w^as forced upon me by a 
 distressingly orthodox friend of mine. They tell me, he 
 is one of the newest lights of the Church.' 
 
 Earwaker listened with amusement, and then related 
 anecdotes of Bruno Chilvers. Whilst he was talking, the 
 door opened to admit another arrival, and a servant's voice 
 announced ' Mr. Peak.' Miss Moxey rose, and moved a 
 step or two forward ; a change was visible on her counte- 
 nance, which had softened and lightened. 
 
 ' I am very sorry to be late,' said the new-comer, in a 
 
BORN IN EXILE 181 
 
 dull and rather husky voice, which made strong contrast 
 with the humorous tones his entrance had interrupted. 
 
 He shook hands in silence with the rest of the 
 company, giving merely a nod and a smile as reply to 
 some gracious commonplace from Mrs. Morton. 
 
 ' Has it come to your knowledge,' Earwaker asked of 
 him, 'that Bruno Chilvers is exciting the orthodox 
 world by his defence of Christianity against neo- 
 heathenism ? ' 
 ' Chilvers ?— No.' 
 
 ' Mrs. Morton tells us that all the Church new-spapers 
 ring wdth his name.' 
 
 ' Please don t think,' cried Mrs. Morton, with the same 
 anxious look as before, 'that I read such papers. AVe 
 never have such a thing in our house, Mr. Peak. I have 
 only been told about it.' 
 
 Peak smiled gravely, but made no other answer. Then 
 he turned to Earwaker. 
 
 * Where is he ? ' 
 
 ' I can't say. Perhaps Mrs. Morton ' 
 
 * They tell me he is somewhere in Norfolk,' replied the 
 lady. ' I forget the town.' 
 
 A summons to dinner broke off the conversation. 
 Moxey offered his arm to the one lady present as guest, 
 
182 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 and Earwaker did the same courtesy to the hostess. Mr. 
 Morton, a meditative young man who had been listening 
 with a smile of indifference, sauntered along in the rear 
 with Godwin Peak. 
 
 At the dinner-table Peak was taciturn, and seemed to 
 be musing on a disagreeable subject. To remarks, he 
 answered briefly and absently. As Moxey, Earwaker, 
 and Mrs. IMorton kept up lively general talk, this 
 muteness was not much noticed, but when the ladies had 
 left the room, and Peak still frowned over his wine-glass, 
 the journalist rebuked him. 
 
 ' What's the matter with you ? Don't depress us.' 
 
 The otlier laughed impatiently, and emptied his glass. 
 
 * Malkin has come back,' pursued Earwaker. * He burst 
 in upon me, just as I was leaving home — as mad as a March 
 hare. You must come and meet him some evening.' 
 
 ' As you please.' 
 
 Returned to the upper room, Peak seated himself in a 
 shadowy corner, crossed his legs, thrust his hands into his 
 pockets, and leaned back to regard a picture on the wall 
 opposite. This attitude gave sufficient proof of the change 
 that had been wrought in him by the years between nine- 
 teen and ninc-and-twenty ; even in a drawing-room, he 
 could take his ease unconcernedly. His face would have 
 
BOEN IN EXILE 183 
 
 led one to suppose him an older man ; it was set in an 
 expression of stern, if not morose, thoughtfulness. 
 
 He had small, hard lips, indifferent teeth (seldom ex- 
 hibited), a prominent chin, a long neck ; his body was of 
 firm, not ungraceful build. Society's evening uniform 
 does not allow a man much scope in the matter of adorn- 
 ments ; it was plain, however, that Godwin no longer 
 scorned the tailor and haberdasher. He wore a suit 
 which confidently challenged the criticism of experts, and 
 the silk socks visible above his shoes might have been 
 selected by the most fastidious of worldlings. 
 
 When he had sat there for some minutes, his eyes 
 happened to stray towards Miss Moxey, who was just 
 then without a companion. Her glance answered to his, 
 and a smile of invitation left him no choice but to rise 
 and go to a seat beside her. 
 
 * You are meditative this evening,' she said, in a voice 
 subdued below its ordinary note. 
 
 ' Not very fit for society, to tell the truth,' Godwin 
 answered, carelessly. ' One has such moods, you know. 
 But how would you take it if, at the last moment, I sent 
 a telegram, * Please excuse me. Don't feel able to talk ' ? 
 
 ' You don't suppose I should be offended ? ' 
 
 ' Certainly you would.' 
 
184 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 ' Then you know less of me than I thoiiglit.' 
 
 Her eyes wandered about the room, their smile betoken- 
 ing an uneasy self-consciousness. 
 
 'Christian tells me,' she continued, ' that you are going 
 to take your holiday in Cornwall.' 
 
 ' I thought of it. But perhaps I slian't leave town at 
 all. It wouldn't be Avorth while, if I go abroad at the 
 end of the year.' 
 
 ' Abroad ? ' Marcel! a glanced at him. ' "What scheme is 
 tlmt ? ' 
 
 ' Haven't I mentioned it ? I want to c^o to South 
 America and the Pacific islands. Earwaker has a friend, 
 who has just come back from travel in the tropics ; the 
 talk about it has half decided me to leave England. I 
 have been saving money for years to that end.' 
 
 'You never spoke of it — to me,' MarcelLa replied, 
 turning a bracelet on her wrist. ' Should you go alone ? ' 
 
 ' Of course. I couldn't travel in company. You know 
 liow impossible it would be for me to put up with the 
 moods and idiosyncrasies of other men.' 
 
 There w^as a quiet arrogance in his tone. The listener 
 still smiled, but her fingers worked nervously. 
 
 ' You are not so unsocial as you protend,' she remarked, 
 without lookinfT at him. 
 
BORN IN EXILE 185 
 
 * Pretend ! I make no pretences of any kind/ was liis 
 scornful answer. 
 
 ' You are ungracious this evening.' 
 ' Yes — and can't hide it.' 
 
 'Don't try to, I beg. But at least tell me what 
 troubles you.' 
 
 * That's impossible/ Peak replied, drily. 
 
 ' Then friendship goes for nothing/ said Marcella, with 
 a little forced laugh. 
 
 * Yes — in all but a very few human concerns. How 
 often could you tell me what it is that prevents your 
 taking life cheerfully ? ' 
 
 He glanced at her, and Marcella's eyes fell ; a moment 
 after, there was a suspicion of colour in her cheek. 
 
 ' What are you reading ? ' Peak asked abruptly, but in 
 a voice of more conventional note. 
 
 ' Still Hafiz/ 
 
 ' I envy your power of abstraction.' 
 
 * Yet I hear that you are deeply concerned about the 
 locomotive powers of the diatomacccc ? ' 
 
 Their eyes met, and they laughed — not very mirthfully. 
 
 ' It preserves me from w^orse follies/ said Peak. ' After 
 all, there are ways more or less dignified of consuming 
 time ' 
 
186 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 As he spoke, his ear caught a familiar name, uttered 
 by Christian Moxey, and he turned to listen. Moxey 
 and Earwaker were again talking of the liev. Bruno 
 Chilvers. Straightway disregarding Marcella, Peak gave 
 attention to the men's dialogue, and his forehead wrinkled 
 into scornful amusement. 
 
 ' It's very interesting,' he exclaimed, at a moment when 
 there was -silence throughout the company, 'to hear that 
 Chilvers is really coming to the front. At Whitelaw it 
 used to be prophesied that he would be a bishop, and now 
 I suppose he's fairly on the way to that. Shall we write 
 letters of congratulation to him, Earwaker ? ' 
 
 ' A joint epistle, if you like.' 
 
 Mr. Morton, who had brightened since dinner, began to 
 speak caustically of the form of intellect necessary now- 
 adays in a popular clergyman. 
 
 * He must write a good deal,' put in Earwaker, * and 
 that in a style which would have scandalised the orthodox 
 of the last century. Rationalised dogma is vastly in 
 demand.' 
 
 Peak's voice drew attention. 
 
 * Two kinds of books dealing with religion are now 
 greatly popular, and will be for a long time. On the one 
 hand there is that growing body of people who, for what- 
 
BORN IN EXILE 187 
 
 ever reason, tend to agnosticism, but desire to be convinced 
 that agnosticism is respectable ; they are eager for anti- 
 dogmatic books, written by men of mark. They couldn't 
 endure to be classed with Bradlaugh, but they rank them- 
 selves confidently with Darwin and Huxley. Arguments 
 matter little or nothing to them. They take their 
 rationalism as they do a fashion in dress, anxious only that 
 it shall be " good form." Then there's the other lot of people 
 — a much larger class — who won't give up dogma, but have 
 learnt that bishops, priests, and deacons no longer hold it 
 with the old rigour, and that one must be " broad"; these 
 are clamorous for treatises which pretend to reconcile 
 revelation and science. It's quite pathetic to watch the 
 enthusiasm with which they hail any man who distin- 
 guishes himself by this kind of apologetic skill, this pious 
 jugglery. Never mind how washy the book from a 
 scientific point of view. Only let it obtain vogue, and 
 it will be glorified as the new evangel. The day has 
 gone by for downright assaults on science ; to be market- 
 able, you must prove that The Origin of Sjiccies was 
 approvingly foreseen in the first chapter of Genesis, and 
 that the Apostles' Creed conflicts in no single point with 
 the latest results of biblical criticism. Both classes seek 
 to avoid ridicule, and to adapt themselves to a standard of 
 
188 BORN IN EXlLi: 
 
 respectability. If Chilvers goes in for the newest apolo- 
 getics, he is bound to be enormously successful. The man 
 has brains, and really there are so few such men who still 
 care to go into the Cluirch.' 
 
 There was a niurniur of laugliing approval. The 
 speaker had worked himself into eloquent nervousness; 
 he leaned forward with his hands straining together, and 
 the muscles of his face quivering. 
 
 ' And isn't it surprising,' said Marcella, ' in how sliort a 
 time this apologetic attitude has become necessary ? ' 
 
 Peak flashed a triumphant look at her. 
 
 ' I often rejoice to think of it ! ' he cried. ' How 
 magnificent it is that so many of the solemn jackasses 
 who brayed against Darwin from ten to twenty years 
 ago should live to be regarded as beneath contempt ! I 
 say it earnestly : this thought is one of the things that 
 make life tolerable to me ! ' 
 
 'You have need of charity, friend Peak,' interposed 
 Earwaker. * This is tlie spirit of the persecutor.' 
 
 ' Notliing of tlie kind ! It is the spirit of justified 
 reason. You may say that those people were honestly 
 mistaken ; — such honesty is tlic brand of a brainless ob- 
 structive. Tlici/ would have persecuted, but too gladly ! 
 There wx^e, and are, men who Avould have committed 
 
BOEN IN EXILE 180 
 
 Darwin to penal servitude, if they had had the power. 
 Men like Lyell, who were able to develop a new con- 
 volution in their brains, I respect heartily. I only speak 
 of the squalling mass, the obscene herd of idiot mockers.' 
 
 ' AVlio assuredly,' remarked Earwaker, ' feel no shame 
 whatever in the retrospect of their idiocy. To convert 
 a mind is a subject for higli rejoicing ; to confute a temijer 
 isn't worth the doing.' 
 
 ' That is philosophy,' said Marcella, ' but I suspect you 
 of often feeling as Mr. Peak does. I am sure / do.' 
 
 Peak, meeting an amused glance from the journalist, 
 left his seat and took up a volume that lay on one of the 
 tables. It was easy to see that his hands shook, and 
 that there w^as perspiration on his forehead. With 
 pleasant tact, Moxey struck into a new subject, and for 
 the next quarter of an hour Peak sat apart in the same 
 attitude as before his outburst of satire and invective. 
 Then he advanced to ^liss Moxey again, for the purpose 
 of taking leave. This was the signal for Earwaker's 
 rising, and in a few minutes both men had left the 
 house. 
 
 'I'll go by train with you,' said Earwaker, as they 
 walked away. ' Earringdon Street will suit me well 
 enough.' 
 
190 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 Peak vouchsafed no reply, but, wLon they had pro- 
 ceeded a little distance, he exclaimed harshly : 
 ' I hate emancipated women ! ' 
 His companion stopped and laughed loudly. 
 
 * Yes, T hate emancipated women,' the other repeated, 
 with deliberation. 'Women ought neither to be en- 
 lightened nor dogmatic. They ought to be sexual.' 
 
 * That's unusual brutality on your part.' 
 
 * Well, you know what I mean.' 
 
 'I know what you think you mean,' said Earwaker. 
 ' But the woman who is neither enlightened nor dogmatic 
 is only too common in society. They are fools, and 
 troublesome fools.' 
 
 Peak again kept silence. 
 
 * The emancipated woman,' pursued his friend, ' needn't 
 be a Miss Moxey, nor yet a Mrs. Morton.' 
 
 ' Miss Moxey is intolerable,' said Peak. ' I can't quite 
 say why I dislike her so, but she grows more antipathetic 
 to me the better I know her. She has not a single 
 feminine charm — not one. I often feel very sorry for 
 her, but dislike her all the same.' 
 
 ' Sorry for her,' mused Earwaker. * Yes, so do I. I 
 can't like her either. She is certainly an incomplete 
 woman. But her mind is of no low order. I had rather 
 
BORN IN EXILE 191 
 
 talk with her than with one of the imbecile prettinesses. 
 I half believe you have a sneaking sympathy with the 
 men who can't stand education in a wife.' 
 
 ' It's possible. In some moods.' 
 
 ' In no mood can I conceive such a prejudice. I have 
 no great attraction to women of any kind, but the un- 
 educated woman I detest.' 
 
 ' Well, so do I,' muttered Peak. ' Do you know what ? ' 
 he added, abruptly. * I shall be off to the Pacific. Yes, 
 I shaU go this next winter. My mind is made up.' 
 
 * I shan't try to dissuade you, old fellow, though I had 
 rather have you in sight. Come and see Malkin. I'll 
 drop you a note with an appointment.' 
 
 'Do.' 
 
 They soon reached the station, and exchanged but 
 few more words before Earwaker's leaving the train at 
 Farringdon Street. Peak pursued his journey towards 
 the south-east of London. 
 
 On reaching home, the journalist flung aside his foolish 
 coat of ceremony, indued a comfortable jacket, lit a pipe 
 with long stem, and began to glance over an evening 
 newspaper. He had not long reposed in his arm-chair 
 when the familiar appeal thundered from without. 
 Malkin once more shook his hand effusively 
 
192 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 'Had my journey to Fulham for notliing. Didn't 
 matter ; I ran over to Putney and looked up my old 
 landlady. The rooms are occupied by a married couple, 
 but I think we shall succeed in persuading them to make 
 way for me. I promised to find them lodgings every bit 
 as good in two days' time.' 
 
 'If that is so easy, why not take the new quarters 
 yourself ? ' 
 
 ' Why, to tell you the truth, I didn't think of it !— Oh, 
 I had rather have the old crib ; I can do as I like there, 
 you know. Confound it ! ]^ow I shall have to spend 
 all tomorrow lodging-hunting for other people. Couldn't 
 I pay a man to do it ? Some confidential agent — private 
 police — you know what I mean ? ' 
 
 ' A man of any delicacy,' replied Earwaker, with grave 
 countenance, ' would feel bound by such a promise to 
 personal exertion.' 
 
 ' Eight ; quite right ! I didn't mean it ; of course I 
 shall hunt conscientiously. Oh, I say; I have brought 
 over a couple of armadilloes. Would you like one ? ' 
 
 * Stuffed, do you mean ? ' 
 
 * Pooh ! Alive, man, alive ! They only need a little 
 care. I should think you might keep the creature in 
 your kitchen ; they become quite affectionate.' 
 
BORN IN EXILE 193 
 
 The offer was unhesitatingly declincJ, and Malkin 
 looked hurt. There needed a good deal of genial explana- 
 tion before Earwaker could restore him to his sprightly 
 mood. 
 
 ' Where have you been dining ? ' cried the traveller. 
 * Moxey's — ah, I remember. But who is Moxey ? A new 
 acquaintance, eh ? ' 
 
 *Yes; I have known him about six montlis. Got to 
 know him through Peak.' 
 
 *Peak? Peak? What, the fellow you once told me 
 about — who disappeared from Whitelaw because of his 
 uncle, the cat's-meat man ? ' 
 
 * The man's-meat man, rather.' 
 
 * Yes, yes — the eating-house ; I remember. You have 
 met him again ? Why on earth didn't you tell me in 
 your letters ? What became of him ? Tell me the story.' 
 
 'Certainly, if you will cease to shake down plaster 
 from the ceiling. — We met in a restaurant (appropriate 
 scene), happening to sit at the same table. AVhilst 
 eating, we stared at each other fitfully. " I'll be hanged 
 if that isn't Peak," I kept saying to myself. And at tlie 
 same moment we opened our lips to question each other.' 
 
 'Just the same thing happened once to a friend of 
 
 mine, and a friend of his. But it was on board ship, 
 VOL. I. 13 
 
194 BORN IX EXILE 
 
 and both were devilish sea-sick. "Walker — you remember 
 my friend Walker ? — tells the story in a side-splitting 
 way. I wonder what has become of "Walker ? The last . 
 time I met him he was travelling agent for a menagerie — 
 a most interesting fellow, "Walker. — But I beg your 
 pardon. Go on, old fellow ! ' 
 
 * Well, after that we at once saw a good deal of each 
 other. He has been working for years at a chemical 
 factory down on the river ; Moxey used to be there, and 
 got him the place.' 
 
 * Moxey ? — Oh yes, the man you dined with. You 
 must remember that these are new names to me. I must 
 know all these new people, I say. You don't mind ? ' 
 
 'You shall be presented to the whole multitude, as 
 soon as you like. Peak wants to see you. He thinks 
 of an excursion like tliis last of yours.' 
 
 * He does? By Jove, we'll go together ! I have always 
 wanted a travelling companion. We'll start as soon as 
 ever he likes I — well, in a montli or two. I must just 
 have time to look round. Oh, I haven't done with the 
 tropics yet! I must tell him of a rattling good insect- 
 powder I have invented ; I think of patenting it. I say, 
 how does one get a patent ? Quito a simple matter, I 
 suppose ? ' 
 
BORN IN EXILE 195 
 
 * Oh, always has been. The simplest and least worry- 
 ing of all business enterprises.' 
 
 * What ? Eh ? That smile of yours means miscliief.* 
 In a quarter of an hour they had got back to the 
 
 subject of Peak's history. 
 
 'And did he really run away because of the eating- 
 house ? ' Malkin inquired. 
 
 ' I shall never venture to ask, and it's not very likely 
 he will admit it. It was some time before he cared to 
 talk much of Whitelaw.' 
 
 * But what is he doing ? You used to think he would 
 come out strong, didn't you ? Has he written anything ? ' 
 
 ' A few things in The Liberator ^ five or six years ago.' 
 
 * What, the atheistic paper ? ' 
 
 *Yes. But he's ashamed of it now. That belongs to 
 a bygone stage of development.' 
 ' Turned orthodox % ' 
 Earwaker laughed. 
 
 * I only mean that he is asliamed of tlie connection with 
 street-corner rationalism.' 
 
 ' Quite right. Devilish low, that kind of thing. But 
 I went in for it myself once. Did I ever tell you that 
 T debated with a parson on Mile-end Waste ? Fact ! 
 That was in my hot-headed days. A crowd of coster- 
 
196 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 mongers applauded me in the most flattering way.— I 
 say, Earwaker, you haven't any whisky ? ' 
 
 * Forgive me ; your conversation makes me forget 
 hospitality. Shall I make hot water ? I have a spirit- 
 kettle.' 
 
 *Cold for me. I get in such a deuced perspiration 
 when I begin to talk. — Try this tobacco; the last of 
 half a hundred-weight I took in at Bahia.' 
 
 The traveller refreshed himself with a full tumbler, 
 and resumed the conversation cheerily. 
 
 'Has he just been wasting his time then, all these 
 years ? ' 
 
 * He goes in for science — laboratory work, evolutionary 
 speculations. Of course I can't judge his progress in 
 such matters ; but Moxey, a clever man in the same line, 
 thinks very highly of him.' 
 
 'Just the fellow to travel with. I want to get hold 
 of some solid scientific ideas, but I haven't the patience 
 to work steadily. A confounded fault of mine, you know, 
 Earwaker, — want of patience. You must liave noticed 
 it?' 
 
 ' Oh — well, now and then, perhaps.' 
 
 'Yes, yes; but of course I know myself better. And 
 now tell me about Moxey. A married man, of course ? ' 
 
BORN IN EXILE 197 
 
 ' No, lives with a sister.* 
 
 ' Unmarried sister ? — Brains ? ' 
 
 ' Pretty well supplied with that commodity.* 
 
 ' You must introduce me to her. I do like women with 
 brains. — Orthodox or enlightened ? ' 
 
 ' Bitterly enlightened.' 
 
 * Really ? Magnificent ! Oh, I must know her. 
 Nothing like an emancipated woman ! How any man 
 can marry the ordinary female passes my understanding. 
 What do yoic think ? ' 
 
 ' My opinions are in suspense ; not yet precipitated, as 
 Peak might say,' 
 
 One o'clock sounded from neighbouring churches, but 
 Malkin was wide awake as ever. He entered upon a 
 detailed narrative of his travels, delightful to listen to, 
 so oddly blended were the strains of conscious and un- 
 conscious humour which marked his personality. Two 
 o'clock ; three o'clock ; — he would have talked till break- 
 fast-time, but at last Earwaker declared that the hour 
 had come for sleep. As Malkin had taken a room at 
 the Inns of Court Hotel, it was easy for him to repair 
 to his quarters. The last his friend heard of him was 
 an unexplained laugh, echoing far down the staircase. 
 
II 
 
 Peak's destination was Peckham Piye. On quitting the 
 railway, he had a walk of some ten minutes along a road 
 which smelt of new bricks and stucco heated by the 
 summer sun ; an obscure passage led him into a street 
 partly of dwelling-houses, partly of shops, the latter closed. 
 He paused at the side door of one over which the street 
 lamp dimly revealed — 'Button, Herbalist.' 
 
 His latch-key admitted him to total darkness, but he 
 moved forward with the confidence of long use. He 
 softly ascended two flights of stairs, opened a door, struck 
 a match, and found himself in a comfortable sitting-room, 
 soon illumined by a reading-lamp. The atmosphere, as 
 througliout the liouse, was strongly redolent of dried 
 simples. Anyone acquainted with the characteristics of 
 furnished lodgings must have surmised that Peak dwelt 
 here among his own moveables, and was indebted to the 
 
 19S 
 
BORN IN EXILE 199 
 
 occupier of tlie premises for bare walls alone ; the tables 
 and chairs, though plain enough, were such as civilisation 
 permits ; and though there were no pictures, sundry orna- 
 ments here and there made strong denial of lodging-house 
 affinity. It was at once laboratory, study, and dwelling- 
 room. Two large cabinets, something the worse for 
 transportation, alone formed a link between this abode 
 and the old home at Twybridge. Books were not 
 numerous, and a good microscope seemed to be the only 
 scientific instrument of much importance. On door-pegs 
 hung a knapsack, a botanist's vasculum, and a geologist's 
 wallet. 
 
 A round table was spread with the materials of supper, 
 and here again an experienced lodger must have bestowed 
 contemplative scrutiny, for no hand of common landlady 
 declared itself in the arrangement. The cloth was 
 spotless, the utensils tasteful and carefully disposed. In 
 a bowl lay an appetising salad, ready for mingling; a 
 fragment of Camembert cheese was relieved upon a setting 
 of green leafage ; a bottle of ale, with adjacent corkscrew, 
 stood beside the plate ; the very loaf seemed to come from 
 no ordinary baker's, or was made to look better than its 
 kin by the fringed white cloth in which it nestled. 
 
 The custom of four years had accustomed Peak to take 
 
200 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 these things as a matter of course, yet he would readily 
 have admitted that they were extraordinary enough. 
 Indeed, he even now occasionally contrasted this state of 
 comfort with the hateful experiences of his first six years 
 in London. The subject of lodgings was one of those on 
 which (often intemperate of speech) he spoke least temper- 
 ately. For six years he had shifted from quarter to 
 quarter, from house to house, driven away each time by 
 the hateful contact of vulgarity in every form, — by foulness 
 and dishonesty, by lying, slandering, quarrelling, by 
 drunkenness, by brutal vice, — by all abominations that 
 distinguish the lodging-letter of the metropolis. Obliged 
 to practise extreme economy, he could not take refuge 
 among self-respecting people, or at all events had no luck 
 in endeavouring to find such among the poorer working- 
 class. To a man of Godwin's idiosyncrasy the London 
 poor were of necessity abominable, and it anguished him 
 to be forced to live among them. 
 
 Eescue came at last, and in a very unexpected way. 
 Kesident in the more open part of Bermondsey (winter 
 mornings made a long journey to Rotherhithe intolerable), 
 he happened to walk one day as far as reckliam Eye, and 
 was there attracted by the shop window of a herbalist. 
 He entered to make a purchase, and got into conversation 
 
BORN IN EXILE 201 
 
 with Mr Button, a middle-aged man of bright intelligence 
 and more reading than could be expected. The herbalist 
 led his customer to an upper room, in which were stored 
 sundry curiosities, and happened casually to say that 
 he was desirous of finding a lodger for two superfluous 
 chambers. Peak's inquiries led to his seeing Mrs. Button, 
 whom he found to be a Frenchwoman of very pleasing 
 appearance; she spoke fluent French-English, anything 
 but disagreeable to an ear constantly tormented by the 
 London vernacular. After short reflection he decided to 
 take and furnish the rooms. It proved a most fortunate 
 step, for he lived (after the outlay for furniture) at much 
 less expense than theretofore, and in comparative luxury. 
 Cleanliness, neatness, good taste by no means exhausted 
 Mrs. Button's virtues; her cooking seemed to the lodger 
 of incredible perfection, and the infinite goodwill with 
 which he was tended made strange contrast with the base 
 usage he had commonly experienced. 
 
 In these ten years he had paid but four visits to 
 Twybridge, each of brief duration. Naturally there were 
 changes among his kinsfolk : Charlotte, after an engage- 
 ment which prolonged itself to the fifth twelvemonth, had 
 become Mrs. Cusse, and her husband now had a draper's 
 shop of his own, with two children already born into the 
 
202 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 world of draperdom. Oliver, twice fruitlessly affianced, 
 had at length (when six-and-twenty) wedded a young 
 person whom his mother and his aunt both regarded as a 
 most undesirable connection, the daughter (aged thirty- 
 two) of a man who was drinking himself to death on such 
 money as he could earn by casual reporting for a 
 Twybridge newspaper. Mrs. Peak the elder now abode 
 with her sister at the millinery shop, and saw little of her 
 two married children. With Oliver and Charlotte their 
 brother had no sympathy and affected none ; he never 
 wrote to them, nor they to him ; but years had strength- 
 ened his regard for his mother, and with her he had fairly 
 regular correspondence. Gladly he would have seen her 
 more often, but the air of shopkeeping he was compelled 
 to breathe when he visited Twybridge nauseated and 
 repelled him. He recognised the suitability both of 
 Oliver and Charlotte for the positions to which life had 
 consigned them — they suffered from no profitless aspira- 
 tion ; but it seemed to him a just cause of quarrel with 
 fate that his kindred should thus have relapsed, instead of 
 bettering the rank their father had bequeathed to them, 
 lie would not avow to such friends as Moxey and 
 Earwaker the social standing of his only recognised 
 relatives. 
 
BORN IN EXILE 203 
 
 As for the unrecognised, he had long ago heard with 
 some satisfaction that Andrew Peak, having ultimately 
 failed in his Kingsmill venture, returned to London. 
 Encounter with the fatal Andrew had been spared him 
 ever since that decisive day when Master Jowey Peak 
 recited from Coleridge and displayed his etymological 
 genius. 
 
 For himself, he had earned daily bread, and something 
 more ; he had studied in desultory fashion ; he had seen 
 a good deal of the British Isles and had visited Paris. The 
 result of it all was gnawing discontent, intervals of furious 
 revolt, periods of black despair. 
 
 He had achieved nothing, and he was alone. 
 
 Young still, to be sure ; at twenty-nine it is too early 
 to abandon ambitions which are supported by force of 
 brain and of will. But circumstances must needs help if 
 the desires of his soul were to be attained. On first 
 coming to London, received with all friendliness by 
 Christian Moxey, he had imagined that it only depended 
 upon himself to find admission before long to congenial 
 society — by which he then understood the companionship 
 of intelligent and aspiring young men. Christian, how- 
 ever, had himself no such circle, and knew tliat the 
 awkw\ard lad from Twybridge could not associate with the 
 
204: BORN IN EXILE 
 
 one or two wealthy families to which he could have pre- 
 sented him. The School of Mines was only technically 
 useful ; it helped Godwin to get his place with Bates & 
 Sons, but supplied no friendships. In tlie third year, 
 Moxey inherited means and left the chemical works for 
 continental travel. 
 
 By tormenting attraction Godwin was often led to walk 
 in the wealthy districts of London. Why was no one of 
 these doors open to him ? There were his equals ; not in 
 the mean streets where he dwelt. There were the men of 
 culture and capacity, the women of exquisite person and 
 exalted mind. Was he the inferior of such people ? By 
 heaven, no ! 
 
 He chanced once to be in Hyde Park on the occasion of 
 some public ceremony, and was brought to pause at the 
 edge of a gaping plebeian crowd, drawn up to witness the 
 passing of aristocratic vehicles. Close in front of him an 
 open carriage came to a stop ; in it sat, or rather reclined, 
 two ladies, old and young. Upon this picture Godwin 
 fixed his eyes with the intensity of fascination ; his 
 memory never lost the impress of these ladies' faces. 
 Nothing very noteworthy about them ; but to Godwin they 
 conveyed a passionate perception of all that is implied in 
 social superiority. Here he stood, one of the multitude, 
 
BORN IN EXILE 205 
 
 of the herd; shoulder to shoulder with boors and pick- 
 pockets ; and within reach of his hand reposed those two 
 ladies, in Olympian calm, seeming unaware even of the 
 existence of the throng. Now they exchanged a word; 
 now they smiled to each other. How delicate was the 
 moving of their lips ! How fine must be their enuncia- 
 tion! On the box sat an old coachman and a young 
 footman ; they too were splendidly impassive, scornful of 
 the multitudinous gaze. — The block was relieved, and on 
 the carriage rolled. 
 
 They were his equals, those ladies ; merely his equals. 
 With such as they he should by right of nature associate. 
 
 In his rebellion, he could not hate them. He hated the 
 malodorous rabble who stared insolently at them and who 
 envied their immeasurable remoteness. Of mere wealth 
 he thought not ; might he only be recognised by the gentle 
 of birth and breeding for what he really was, and be 
 rescued from the promiscuity of the vulgar ! 
 
 Yet at this time he was drawn into connection with the 
 movement of popular Eadicalism which revolts against 
 religious respectability. Inherited antipathy to all con- 
 ventional forms of faith outweighed his other prejudices 
 so far as to induce him to write savage papers for The 
 Liberator. Personal contact with artisan freethinkers 
 
206 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 was disgusting to him. From the meeting of emancipated 
 workmen he went away with scorn and detestation in his 
 heart ; but in the quiet of his lodgings he could sit down 
 to aid their propaganda. One explanation of this incon- 
 sistency lay in the fact that no other channel was open to 
 his literary impulses. Pure science could not serve him, 
 for he had no original results to announce. Pure litera- 
 ture seemed beyond his scope, yet he was constantly 
 endeavouring to express himself. He burned with the 
 desire of fame, and saw no hope of achieving it save as an 
 author. The Liberator would serve him as a first step. 
 In time he might get foothold in the monthly reviews, 
 and see his name side by side with those of the leaders 
 of thought. 
 
 Occasions, of course, offered when he might have 
 extended his acquaintance, but they were never of a kind 
 that he cared to use; at best they would only have 
 admitted him to the homes of decent, semi-educated 
 families, and for such society he was altogether unfitted. 
 The licence of the streets but seldom allured him. After 
 his twenty-fourth year he was proof against the decoys of 
 venal pleasure, and lived a life of asceticism exceed- 
 ingly rare in young and lonely men. When Christian 
 Moxey returned to London and took the house at Netting 
 
BORN IN EXILE 207 
 
 Hill, which he henceforth occupied together with his 
 sister, a possibility of social intercourse at length appeared. 
 Indeed it was a substantial gain to sit from time to time 
 at a civilised table, and to converse amid graceful sur- 
 roundings with people who at all events followed the 
 intellectual current of the day. Careless hitherto of his 
 personal appearance, he now cultivated an elegance of 
 attire in conformity with his aristocratic instincts, and 
 this habit became fixed. When next he visited Twybridge, 
 the change in his appearance was generally remarked. 
 Mrs. Peak naturally understood it as a significant result 
 of his intercourse with Miss Moxey, of whom, as it seemed 
 to her, he spoke with singular reticence. 
 
 But Marcella had no charm for Godwin's imatyination, 
 notwithstanding that he presently suspected a warmth 
 of interest on her side which he was far from consciously 
 encouraging. Nor did he find among his friends any man 
 or woman for whose acquaintance he greatly cared. The 
 Moxeys had a very small circle, consisting chiefly of 
 intellectual inferiors. Christian was too indolent to make 
 a figure in society, and his sister suffered from peculiarities 
 of mind and temperament which made it as difficult for 
 her as for Peak himself to form intimate friendships. 
 
 When chance encounter brought hin\ into connection 
 
208 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 with Earwaker, the revival of bygone things was at first 
 doubtfully pleasant. Earwaker himself, remarkably 
 developed and become a very interesting man, was as 
 welcome an associate as he could have found, but it cost 
 him some effort to dismiss the tliought of Andrew Peak's 
 eating-house, and to accept the friendly tact with which 
 the journalist avoided all hint of unpleasant memories. 
 That Earwaker should refrain from a single question 
 concerning that abrupt disappearance, nearly ten years ago, 
 sufficiently declared his knowledge of the unspeakable 
 cause, a reflection which often made Godwin writhe. 
 However, this difficulty was overcome, and the two met 
 very frequently. For several weeks Godwin enjoyed 
 better spirits than he had know^n since the first excite- 
 ment of his life in London faded away. 
 
 One result was easily foreseen. His mind grew busy 
 with literary projects, many that he had long contem- 
 plated and some that were new. Once more he aimed 
 at contributing to the * advanced ' reviews, and skctclied 
 out several papers of sociological tenor. None of these 
 were written. As soon as he sat down to deliberate 
 composition, a sense of his deficiencies embarrassed him. 
 Godwin's self-confidence had nothing in common with the 
 conceit which rests on imaginary strength. Power there 
 
BORN IN EXILE 209 
 
 was in him; of that he could not but be conscious : its true 
 direction lie had not yet learned. Defect of knowledge, 
 lack of pen-practice, confusion and contradictoriness of 
 aims, instability of conviction, — tliese faults he recognised 
 in himself at every moment of inward scrutiny. 
 
 On his table this evening lay a library volume which 
 he had of late been reading, a book which had sprung into 
 enormous popularity. It was called Spiritual Aspects of 
 Evolution, and undertook, with confidence characteristic of 
 its kind, to reconcile the latest results of science with the 
 dogmas of Oriental religion. This work was in his mind 
 when he spoke so vehemently at Moxey's ; already he had 
 trembled with an impulse to write something on the subject, 
 and during his journey home a possible essay had begun to 
 shape itself. Late as was the hour he could not prepare 
 for sleep. His brain throbbed with a congestion of 
 thought ; he struggled to make clear the lines on which his 
 satire midit direct itself. By two o'clock he had flun^'- 
 down on paper a conglomerate of burning ideas, and thus 
 relieved he at length went to bed. 
 
 Two days later came a note from Staple Inn, inviting 
 
 him to meet Malkin the next evening. By this time he 
 
 had made a beginning of his critical essay, and the 
 
 exordium so far satisfied him that he was tempted to 
 vol.. I. 14 
 
210 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 take it for Earwaker's judgment, liut no; better Lis 
 friend should see the thing when it was comi»lete. 
 
 About eight o'clock he reached the journalist's chambers. 
 Malkin had not yet arrived. Peak amused himself wuth 
 examining certain tropical products whicli the traveller 
 had recently cast pell-mell into his friend's sitting-room. 
 Then sounded a knock at the door, but it was not such 
 as would have heralded the expected man. 
 
 ' A telegram/ observed Earwaker, and went to take it in. 
 
 He returned with hoarse sounds of mirth. 
 
 ' Our friend excuses himself. Eead this characteristic 
 despatch.' 
 
 Peak saw with surprise that the telegram far exceeded 
 familiar dimensions. * Unspeakably grieved/ it began. 
 * Cannot possibly wdth you. At moment's notice under- 
 taken escort two poor girls Piouen. Xot even time look 
 in apologise. Go "vid Dieppe and leave Victoria few 
 minutes. Hope be back Thursday. Express sincerest 
 regret Mr. Peak. Lament appearance discourtesy. "Will 
 apologise personally. Common humanity constrains go 
 Eouen. Will explain Thursday. Xo time add another 
 word. Eush tickets train.' 
 
 * There you have the man ! ' cried Earwaker. * How do 
 you class such a mind as that ? Ten to one this is some 
 
BORN IN EXILE 211 
 
 Quixotic obligation ho has laid upon himself, and proLaUy 
 he has sfone without even a handbacf.' 
 
 ' Vocally delivered/ said Peak, * this would represent a 
 certain stage of drunkenness. I suppose it isn't open to 
 such an explanation ? ' 
 
 'Malkin never was intoxicated, save with his own 
 vivacity.' 
 
 They discussed the singular being with good-natured 
 mirth, then turned by degrees to other topics. 
 
 ' I have just come across a passage that will delight you,' 
 said Earwaker, taking up a book. ' Perhaps you know it.' 
 
 He read from Sir Thomas Brown's Pscudodoxia 
 Epidcmica. ' " Men's names should not only distinguish 
 them. A man should be something that all men are not, 
 and individual in somewhat beside his proper name. 
 Thus, while it exceeds not the bound of reason and 
 modesty, we cannot condemn singularity. Kos numcrus 
 sicmiis is the motto of the multitude, and for that reason 
 are they fools." ' 
 
 Peak laughed his approval. 
 
 ' It astonishes me,' he said, lighting his pipe, ' that you 
 can go on writing for this Sunday rag, when you liave 
 just as little sympathy with its aims as I have. Do get 
 into some less offensive connection.' 
 
212 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 ' What paper would you recommend ? ' asked tlie otlier, 
 with his significant smile. 
 
 * Why need you journalise at all ? ' 
 
 * On the whole, I like it. And remember, to admit that 
 the multitude are fools is not the same thing as to deny 
 tlie possibility of progress.' 
 
 ' Do you really believe yourself a democrat, Earwaker ? ' 
 
 'M — m — m ! Well, yes, I believe the democratic s[irit 
 is stronger in me than any other.' 
 
 Peak mused for a minute, then suddenly looked up. 
 
 ' And what am I ? ' 
 
 ' I am glad nothing much depends on my successfully 
 defining you.' 
 
 They laughed together. 
 
 ' I suppose,' said Godwin, ' you can't call a man a 
 democrat who recognises in his heart and soul a true 
 distinction of social classes. Social, mark. The division I 
 instinctively support is by no means intellectual. The well- 
 born fool is very often more sure of my respect than the 
 workinu: man who struf^qles to a fair measure of education.' 
 
 Earwaker would have liked to comment on this witli 
 remarks personal to the speaker, but he feared to do so. 
 His silence, however, was eloquent to Peak, who resumed 
 brusquely. 
 
BORN IN EXILE 213 
 
 ' I am not myself well-born,— tliougli if my parents 
 could have come into wealth early in their lives, perhaps 
 I might reasonably have called myself so. All sorts of 
 arguments can be brought against my prejudice, but the 
 prejudice is ineradicable. I respect hereditary social 
 standing, independently of the individual's qualities. 
 There's nothing of the flunkey in this, or I greatly deceive 
 myself. Birth in a sphere of refinement is desirable and 
 respectable ; it saves one, absolutely, from many forms of 
 coarseness. The masses are not only fools, but very near 
 the brutes. Yes, they can send forth fine individuals — 
 but remain base. I don't deny the possibility of social 
 advance; I only say that at present the lower classes 
 are always disagreeable, often repulsive, sometimes 
 hateful.' 
 
 * I could apply that to the classes above them.' 
 'Well, I can't. But I am quite ready to admit that 
 there are all sorts of inconsistencies in me. Now, the 
 other day I was reading Burns, and I couldn't describe 
 what exaltation all at once possessed me in the thought 
 that a ploughman had so glorified a servant-girl that 
 together they shine in the highest heaven, far above all 
 the monarchs of earth. This came upon me with a rush 
 — a very rare emotion. Wasn't that democratic ? ' 
 
214 BORN IX EXILE 
 
 He inf|uired dubiously, and Earvvaker for a moment 
 had no reply but his familiar ' M — in— ni ! ' 
 
 'No, it was not democratic,' the journalist decided at 
 length ; ' it was pride of intellect.' 
 
 ' Think so ? Then look here. If it happens that a 
 whining wretch stops me in the street to beg, what do you 
 suppose is my feeling ? I am ashamed in the sense of 
 my own prosperity. I can't look him in the face. If I 
 yielded to my natural impulse, I should cry out, " Strike 
 me ! spit at me ! show you hate me ! — anything but that 
 terrible humiliation of yourself before me ! " That's how 
 I feel. The abasement of which he isn't sensible affects 
 me on his behalf. I give money with what delicacy I can. 
 If I am obliged to refuse, I mutter apologies and hurry 
 away with burning cheeks. What does tliat mean ? ' 
 
 Earwaker regarded him curiously. 
 
 ' That is mere fineness of humanity.' 
 
 ' Perhaps moral weakness ? ' 
 
 ' I don't care for the scalpel of the pessimist. Let us 
 give it the better name.' 
 
 Peak had never been so comnnmicative. His progress 
 in composition these last evenings seemed to have raised 
 his spirits and spurred the activity of his mind. With 
 a look of pleasure he pursued his self-analysis. 
 
BORN IN EXILE 215 
 
 'Special antipathies — sometimes explicable enough — 
 influence me very widely. Now, I by no means hate all 
 orders of uneducated people. A hedger, a fisherman, a 
 country mason, — people of that kind I rather like to talk 
 with. I could live a good deal with them. But the 
 London vulgar I abominate, root and branch. The mere 
 sound of their voices nauseates me ; their vilely grotesque 
 accent and pronunciation — bah ! I could write a paper 
 to show that they are essentially the basest of English 
 mortals. Unhappily, I know so much about them. If I 
 saw the probability of my dying in a London lodging- 
 house, I would go out into the sweet-scented fields and 
 there kill myself.' 
 
 Earwaker understood much by this avowal, and wondered 
 whether his friend desired him so to do. 
 
 ' Well, I can't say that I have any affection for the 
 race,' he replied. ' I certainly believe that, socially and 
 politically, there is less hope of them than of the lower 
 orders in any other part of England.' 
 
 'They are damned by the beastly conditions of their 
 life!' cried Godwin, excitedly. 'I don't mean only the 
 slum -denizens. All, all — Hammersmith as much as 
 St. George's - in - the - East. I must write about this ; 
 I must indeed.' 
 
216 BORN IN p:xile 
 
 *Doby all means. Nothing would benefit you more, 
 than to get your soul into print.' 
 
 Peak delayed a little, then : 
 
 * AVell, I am doing something at last.' 
 
 And he gave an account of his projected essay. By 
 this time his hands trembled with nervous agitation, and 
 occasionally a dryness of the palate half choked his voice. 
 
 'This may do very well,' opined Earwaker. *I suppose 
 you will try The Critical ? ' 
 
 'Yes. But have I any chance? Can a perfectly 
 unknown man hope to get in ? ' 
 
 They debated this aspect of the matter. Seeing Peak 
 had laid down his pipe, the journalist offered him tobacco. 
 
 'Thanks; I can't smoke just yet. It's my misfortune 
 that I can't talk earnestly without throwing my body into 
 disorder.' 
 
 ' How stolid I am in comparison ! ' said Earwaker. 
 
 ' That book of M'Naughten's,' resumed the otlier, going 
 back to his subject. ' I suppose the clergy accept it ? ' 
 
 ' Largely, I believe.' 
 
 Peak mused. 
 
 ' Now, if I Avere a clergyman ' 
 
 But his eye met Earwaker's, and they broke into 
 laughter. 
 
BORN IN EXILE 217 
 
 ' Why not ? ' pursued Godwin. ' Did I ever tell you 
 that my people originally wislied to make a parson of me ? 
 Of course I resisted tooth and nail, but it seems to me 
 now that I was rather foolish in doing so. I wish I had 
 been a parson. In many ways the position would have 
 suited me very well.' 
 
 ' M— m— m ! ' 
 
 ' I am quite serious. Well, if I wxre so placed, I 
 should preach Church dogma, pure and simple. I would 
 have nothino- to do with these reconciliations. I would 
 
 o 
 
 stand firm as Jeremy Taylor ; and in consequence I 
 should have an immense and enthusiastic congregation/ 
 
 * I daresay.' 
 
 ' Depend upon it, let the dogmas do what they still 
 can. There's a vast police force in them, at all events. 
 A man may very strongly defend himself for preaching 
 them.' 
 
 The pursuit of this argument led Earwaker to ask : 
 
 'What proportion of the clergy can still take that 
 standing in stolid conscientiousness ? ' 
 
 ' What proportion are convinced that it is untenable ? ' 
 returned Peak. 
 
 ' Many wilfully shut their eyes to the truth.' 
 
 ' No, they don't shut their eyes ! ' cried Godwin. ' They 
 
218 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 merely lower a nictitating membrane which permits 
 them to gaze at light without feeling its full impact.' 
 
 ' I recommend you to bring that into voiir paper,' said 
 the journalist, with his deep chuckle. 
 
 An hour later they were conversing with no less 
 animation, but the talk was not so critical. Christian 
 Moxey had come up as a topic, and Earwaker was saying 
 that he found it difficult to divine the man's personality. 
 
 ' You won't easily do that,' replied Peak, ' until you know 
 more of his story. I can't see that I am bound to secrecy 
 — at all events with you. Poor Moxey imagines that he 
 is in love, and the fancy has lasted about ten years.' 
 
 ' Ten years ? ' 
 
 'When I first knew him he was paying obvious 
 attentions to a rather plain cousin down at Twybridge. 
 Why, I don't know, for he certainly was devoted to 
 a girl here in London. All he has confessed to me is 
 that he liad given up hopes of her, but that a letter 
 of some sort or other revived them, and he hastened back 
 to town. He might as well have stayed away ; the girl 
 very soon married another man. Less than a year later 
 she had bitterly repented this, and in some way or other 
 she allowed Moxey to know it. Since then they have 
 been Platonic lovers — nothimi more, I am convinced. 
 
BORN IN EXILE 219 
 
 They see each other about once in six months, and 
 presumably live on a hope that the obnoxious husband 
 may decease. I only know the woman as " Constance " ; 
 never saw her.' 
 
 ' So that's Moxey ? I begin to understand better.' 
 'Admirable fellow, but deplorably weak. I have an 
 affection for him, and have had from our first meeting.' 
 ' Women ! ' mused Earwaker, and shook his head. 
 
 * You despise them ? ' 
 
 ' On the whole, I'm afraid so.' 
 
 'Yes, but wliat women?' cried the other with impa- 
 tience. ' It would be just as reasonable to say that you 
 despise men. Can't you see that ? ' 
 
 ' I doubt it.' 
 
 * Xow look here ; the stock objections to women are 
 traditional. They take no account of the vast change 
 that is coming about. Because women were once empty- 
 headed, it is assumed they are all still so en masse. The 
 defect of the female mind ? It is my belief that this is 
 nothing more nor less than the defect of the uneducated 
 human mind. I believe most men among the brutally 
 ignorant exhibit the very faults which are cried out 
 upon as exclusively feminine. A woman has hitherto 
 been an ignorant human being; that explains everything.' 
 
220 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 'Not everything; something, perhaps. Piemember 
 your evolutionism. The preservation of the race demands 
 in women many kinds of irrationality, of obstinate 
 instinct, which enrage a reasoning man. Don't suppo-se I 
 speak theoretically. Four or five years ago I had really 
 made up my mind to marry; I wasted much valuable 
 time among women and girls, of anything but luw social 
 standing. But my passions were clicked by my logical 
 faculty. I foresaw a terrible possibility — that I might 
 beat my wife. One thing I learned with certainty was 
 that the woman, ciiut woman, hates abstract thought — 
 hates it. Moreover (and of consequence) she despises 
 every ambition that has not a material end.' 
 
 He enlarged upon the subject, followed it into all its 
 ramifications, elaborated the inconsistencies with which 
 it is rife. Peak's reply was deliberate. 
 
 ' Admitting that some of these faults are rooted in 
 sex, I should only find them intolerable when their 
 expression took a vulgar form. Between irrationality 
 and coarseness of mind there is an enormous distinction.' 
 
 ' With coarse minds I have nothing to do.' 
 
 'Forgive me if I ask you a blunt question,' said Peak, 
 after hesitating. ' Have you ever associated with women 
 of the highest refinement ?' 
 
BORN IN EXILE 221 
 
 Earwaker laughed. 
 
 * I don't know what tliat phrase means. It sounds 
 rather odd on your lips.' 
 
 '"Well, women of the highest class of commoners. 
 With peeresses we needn't concern ourselves.' 
 
 'You imagine that social precedence makes all that 
 difference in women ? ' 
 
 ' Yes, I do. The daughter of a county family is a 
 finer being than any girl who can spring from the nomad 
 orders.' 
 
 'Even supposing your nomads produce a Piachel or a 
 Charlotte Bronte ? ' 
 
 ' We are not talking of genius,' Peak replied. 
 
 ' It was irrelevant, I know. — Well, yes, I have conversed 
 now and then with what you would call well-born women. 
 They are delightful creatures, some of them, in given 
 circumstances. But do you think I ever dreamt of taking 
 a wife drenched with social prejudices ? ' 
 
 Peak's face expressed annoyance, and he said nothing. 
 
 *A man's wife,' pursued Earwaker, 'may be liis superior 
 in whatever you like, except social position. That is 
 precisely the distinction that no woman can forget or 
 forgive. On that account they are the obstructive element 
 in social history. If I loved a woman of rank above my 
 
222 BORN IX EXILE 
 
 own she would make me a renegade ; for her sake I should 
 deny my faith. I shoidd write for the St. James s Gazette^ 
 and at last poison myself in an agony of shame.' 
 
 A burst of laughter cleared the air for a moment, but 
 for a moment only. Peak's countenance clouded over 
 again, and at length he said in a lower tone : 
 
 ' There are men whose character would defy that rule.' 
 
 'Yes — to their own disaster. But I ought to have 
 made one exception. There is a case in which a woman 
 will marry without much regard to her husband's origin. 
 Let him be a parson, and he may aim as high as he 
 chooses.' 
 
 Peak tried to smile. He made no answer, and fell 
 into a fit of brooding. 
 
 ' What's all this about ? ' asked the journalist, when he 
 too had mused awhile. ' Whose acquaintance liave you 
 been making ? ' 
 
 ' No one's.' 
 
 The suspicion was inevitable. 
 
 'If it were true, perhaps you would be justified in 
 mistrusting my way of regarding these things, But it's 
 the natural tendency of my mind. If I ever marry at all, 
 it will be a woman of far higher birth than my own.' 
 
 ' Don't malign your parents, old fellow. They gave you 
 
BORN IN EXILE 223 
 
 a brain inferior to tliat of few men. You Avill never meet 
 a woman of higher birth.' 
 
 'That's a friendly sophism. I can't thank you for it, 
 because it has a bitter side.' 
 
 But the compliment had excited Peak, and after a 
 moment's delay he exclaimed : 
 
 ' I have no other ambition in life — no other ! Think 
 the confession as ridiculous as you like ; my one supreme 
 desire is to marry a perfectly refined woman. Put it in 
 the correct terms : I am a plebeian, and I aim at marrying 
 a lady.' 
 
 The last words were flung out defiantly. He quivered 
 as he spoke, and his face flushed. 
 
 ' I can't wish you success/ returned his friend, with a 
 grave smile. 
 
 ' You couldn't help it sounding like a sneer, if you did. 
 The desire is hopeless, of course. It's because I know 
 that, that I have made up my mind to travel for a year 
 or two ; it'll help me on towards the age when I shall 
 regard all women with indifference. We won't talk about 
 it any more.' 
 
 ' One question. You seriously believe that you could 
 find satisfaction in the life to which such a marriage would 
 condemn you ? ' 
 
224 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 ' What life ? ' asked Peak, impatiently. 
 
 • That of an average gentleman, let us say, with house 
 in town and country, with friends whose ruling motive 
 was social propriety.' 
 
 ' I could enjoy the good and throw aside the distasteful' 
 
 'What about the distastefulness of your wife's crass 
 conventionalism, especially in religion ? ' 
 
 ' It would not be crass, to begin with. If her religion 
 were genuine, I could tolerate it well enough ; if it were 
 merely a form, I could train her to my own opinions. 
 Society is growing liberal — the best of it. Please re- 
 member that I have in mind a woman of the highest type 
 our civilisation can produce.' 
 
 ' Then you mustn't look for her in society ! ' cried 
 Earwaker. 
 
 * I don't care ; where you will, so long as she had always 
 lived among people of breeding and high education, and 
 never had her thoughts soiled with the vile contact of 
 poverty.' 
 
 Earwaker started up and reached a volume from a shelf. 
 Quickly finding the desired page, he began to read aloud : 
 
 * Dear, Lad the world in its caprice 
 
 Deigned to proclaim — I know you both, 
 Have recognised your plighted troth. 
 Am sponsor for you ; live in peace ! ' 
 
BORN IN EXILE 225 
 
 He read to the end of the poem, and then looked up 
 with an admiring smile. 
 
 * An ideal ! ' exclaimed Peak. ' An ideal akin to 
 ^lurger's and Musset's grisettes, who never existed.' 
 
 'An ideal, most decidedly. But pray what is this 
 consummate lady you have in mind ? An ideal every 
 bit as much, and of the two I prefer Browning's. For 
 my own part, I am a polygamist; my wives live in 
 literature, and too far asunder to be able to quarrel. 
 Impossible women, but exquisite. They shall suffice 
 to me.' 
 
 Peak rose, sauntered about the room for a minute or 
 two, then said : 
 
 * I have just got a title for my paper. I shall call it 
 " The Xew Sophistry." ' 
 
 * Do very well, I should think,' replied the other, smiling. 
 * Will you let me see it when it's done ? ' 
 
 * Who knows if I shall finish it ? Xothini? I ever 
 undertook has been finished yet — nothing won that I 
 ever aimed at. Good night. Let me hear about Malkin.' 
 
 In a week's time Godwin received another summons 
 to Staple Inn, with promise of Malkin's assured presence. 
 In reply he wrote : 
 
 * Owing to a nev/ arrangement at Bates's, I start to- 
 
226 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 morrow for my holiday in Cornwall, so cannot see you 
 for a few weeks. Please offer Malkin my apologies ; 
 make them (I mean it) as profuse as those he telegraphed. 
 Herewith I send you my paper, " The Xew Sophistry," 
 which I have written at a few vehement sittings, and 
 have carelessly copied. If you think it worth while, 
 will you have the kindness to send it for me to The 
 Critical? I haven't signed it, as my unmeaning name 
 w^ould perhaps indispose the fellow to see much good 
 in it. I should thank you if you would write in your 
 own person, saying that you act for a friend ; you 
 are probably well known in those quarters. If it is 
 accepted, time enough to claim my glory. If it seems 
 to you to have no chance, keep it till I return, as I hate 
 the humiliation of refusals. — Don't think I made an ass 
 of myself tlie other night. AVe will never speak on that 
 subject again. All I said was horribly sincere, but I'm 
 afraid you can't understand that side of my nature. I 
 should never have spoken so frankly to Moxey, though 
 he has made no secret with me of his ow^n weaknesses. 
 If I perish before long in a South American swamp, you 
 will be able to reflect on my personality with completer 
 knowledsje, so I don't regret the indiscretion.' 
 
Ill 
 
 * Pcrcunt ct iinjnitantur.' 
 
 Godwin Peak read the motto beneath the clock in 
 Exeter Cathedral, and believed it of Christian origin. 
 Had he known that the words were found in Martial, 
 his rebellious spirit would have enjoyed the consecration 
 of a plirase from such an unlikely author. Even as he 
 must have laughed had he stood in the Vatican before 
 the figures of those two Greek dramatists who, for ages, 
 wore revered as Christian saints. 
 
 His ignorance preserved him from a clash of senti- 
 ments. This afternoon he was not disposed to cynicism ; 
 rather he welcomed the softening influence of this noble 
 interior, and let the golden sunlight form what shapes 
 it would — heavenly beam, mystic aureole — before liis 
 mind's eye. Arcliitecture had no special interest for 
 him, and the history of church or faith could seldom 
 
228 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 touch liis emotions ; but the glorious liandiwork of men 
 long dead, the solemn stillness of an ancient sanctuary, 
 made that appeal to him which is independent of 
 names. 
 
 * Pereimt et wvputantur' 
 
 He sat down where the soft, slow, ticking of the clock 
 could guide his thoughts. This morning he had luft 
 London by the earliest train, and after a night in Exeter 
 woukl travel westward by leisurely stages, seeing as 
 much as possible of the coast and of that inland scenery 
 which had geological significance. His costume declared 
 him bent on holiday, but, at the same time, distinguished 
 him with delicate emphasis from the tourist of the season. 
 Trustworthy sartorial skill had done its best for his 
 person. Sitting thus, he had the air of a gentleman who 
 enjoys no unwonted ease. He could forget himself in 
 reverie, and be unaware of soft footfalls that drew near 
 along the aisle. 
 
 But the sound of a young voice, subdued yet very 
 clear, made claim upon his attention. 
 
 ' Sidwell !— Sidwell ! ' 
 
 She who spoke was behind him ; on looking up, he 
 saw that a lady just in front had stopped and turned to 
 tlie summons ; smiling, she retraced her steps. He 
 
BORN IN p:xile 229 
 
 moved, so as to look discreetly in the backward direction, 
 and observed a group of four persons, who were occupied 
 with a tablet on the wall : a young man (not long out 
 of boyhood), a girl who might be a year or tw^o younger, 
 and two ladies, of whom it could only be said that they 
 were mature in the beauty of youth, probably of maiden- 
 hood — one of them, she who liad been called back by 
 the name of ' SidwelL' 
 
 Surely an uncommon name. From a guide-book, wdth 
 which he had amused himself in the train, he knew that 
 one of the churches of Exeter was dedicated to St. 
 Sidwell, but only now did his recollection apprise him 
 of a long past acquaintance with the name of the saint. 
 Had not Buckland Warricombe a sister called Sidwell ? 
 And — did he only surmise a connection between the 
 Warricombes and Devon ? No, no ; on that remote day, 
 when he went out with Buckland to the house near 
 Kingsmill, Mr. Warricombe spoke to him of Exeter, — 
 mentioning that the town of his birth was Axminster, 
 where William Buckland, the geologist, also was born ; 
 whence the name of his eldest son. How suddenly it 
 all came back ! 
 
 He rose and moved apart to a spot whence he might 
 quietly observe the strangers. ' Sidwell,' once remarked, 
 
230 BORN IN p:xile 
 
 could not be confused with tlie companion of her own 
 age ; she was slimmer, shorter (if but slightly), more 
 sedate in movement, and perhaps better dressed — though 
 both were admirable in that respect. Ladies, beyond a 
 doubt. And the young man 
 
 At this distance it was easy to deceive oneself, but 
 did not that face bring something back ? Xow, as he 
 smiled, it seemed to recall Euckland Warricombe — with 
 a difference. This might well be a younger brother; 
 there used to be one or two. 
 
 They were familiar with the Cathedral, and at present 
 appeared to take exclusive interest in certain mural 
 monuments. For perhaps ten minutes they lingered 
 about the aisle, then, after a glance at the w^est window, 
 went forth. With quick step, Godwin pursued them ; he 
 issued in time to see them entering an open carriage, 
 which presently drove away towards High Street. 
 
 For half an hour he walked the Cathedral Close. Xot 
 long ago, on first coming into tliat quiet space, with its 
 old houses, its smooth lawns, its majestic trees, he had 
 felt the charm peculiar to such scenes — the natural 
 delight in a form of beauty especially English. Xow, 
 the impression was irrecoverable; he could see nothing 
 but those four persons, and their luxurious carria<jfe, and 
 
BORN IN EXILE 231 
 
 the two beautiful liorses which had borne them — 
 whither ? As likely as not the identity he had supposed 
 for them was quite imaginary; yet it would be easy to 
 ascertain whether a Warricombe family dwelt at Exeter. 
 
 The forename of Buckland's father ? He never 
 
 had known it. Still, it was worth while consulting a 
 directory. 
 
 He walked to his hotel. 
 
 Yes, the name Warricombe stood there, but it occurred 
 more than once. He sought counsel of the landlord. 
 Which of these Warricombes w^as a gentleman of position, 
 with grown-up sons and daughters ? To such a descrip- 
 tion answered Martin Warricombe, Esquire, w^ell known 
 in the city. His house was in the Old Tiverton Eoad, 
 out beyond St. Sidwell's, two miles away ; anyone in that 
 district w^ould serve as guide to it. 
 
 AVith purpose indefinite, Godwin set forth in the 
 direction suggested. At little more than a saunter, he 
 passed out of High Street into its continuation, where he 
 soon descried the Church of St. Sidwell, and thence, 
 having made inquiry, walked towards the Old Tiverton 
 Eoad. He was now quite beyond the town limits, 
 and few pedestrians came in sight ; if he really wished 
 to find the abode of Martin Warricombe, he must stop 
 
232 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 the first questionable person. But to wliat end tlii.s 
 inquiry ? He could not even be certain that Martin was 
 the man he had in mind, and even were he right in all 
 his conjectures, what had he to do with the Warricombes ? 
 
 Ten years ago the family liad received him courteously 
 as Buckland's fellow-student ; he had spent an hour or 
 two at their house, and subsequently a few words had 
 passed when they saw him on prize-day at Whitelaw. 
 To Buckland he had never written ; he had never since 
 heard of him ; that name was involved in the miserable 
 whirl of circumstances which brought his College life to 
 a close, and it was always his hope that Buckland thought 
 no more of him. Even had there been no disagreeable 
 memories, it was surely impossible to renew after this 
 interval so very slight an acquaintance. How could they 
 receive him, save with civilly mild astonishment ? 
 
 An errand-boy came along, whistling townwards, a 
 big basket over his head. Xo harm in asking where 
 Mr. Warricombe lived. The reply was prompt : second 
 house on the right hand, rather a large one, not a quarter 
 of a mile onward. 
 
 Here, then. The site was a good one. From this part of 
 the climbing road one looked over the lower valley of the 
 Exe, saw the whole estuary, and beyond that a horizon of 
 
BORN IN EXILE 233 
 
 blue sea. Fair, rich land, warm under the westering sun. 
 The house itself seemed to be old, but after all was not 
 very large ; it stood amid laurels, and in the garden 
 behind rose a great yew-tree. No person was visible ; 
 but for the wave-like murmur of neighbouring pines, 
 scarce a sound would have disturbed the air. 
 
 Godwin walked past, and found that the road descended 
 into a deep hollow, whence between high banks, covered 
 with gorse and bracken and many a su mmer flower, it 
 led again up a hill thick planted with firs ; at the lowest 
 point was a bridge over a streamlet, offering on either 
 hand a view of soft green meadows. A spot of exquisite 
 retirement : happy who lived here in security from the 
 struggle of life ! 
 
 It was folly to spoil his enjoyment of country such as 
 this by dreaming impossible opportunities. The Warri- 
 combes could be nothing to him ; to meet with Buckland 
 would only revive the shame long ago outlived. After 
 resting for a few minutes he turned back, passed the 
 silent house again, delighted himself with the wide view, 
 and so into the city once more, where he began to seek 
 the remnants of its old walls. 
 
 The next morning was Sunday, and he had planned to 
 go by the Plymouth train to a station whence he could 
 
234 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 reach Start Point ; but his mood was Ijecome so unsettled 
 that ten o'clock, when already he should have been on his 
 journey, found him straying about the Cathedral Close. 
 A mere half-purpose, a vague wavering intention, which 
 might at any moment be scattered by common sense, drew 
 his steps to the door of the Cathedral, where people 
 were entering for morning service ; he moved idly within 
 sight of the carriages which drew up. Several had 
 discharged their freightage of tailoring and millinery, 
 wdien two vehicles, which seemed companions, stopped 
 at the edge of the pavement, and from the second alighted 
 the young ladies wdiom Godwin had yesterday observed ; 
 their male companion, however, was different. The 
 carriage in advance also contained four persons : a 
 gentleman of sixty, his wife, a young girl, and the 
 youth of yesterday. It needed but a glance to inform 
 Godwin that the oldest of the party was ^Mr. Warri- 
 combe, Buckland's father ; ten years had made no change 
 in his aspect. Mrs. Warricombe was not less recognisable. 
 They passed at once into the edifice, and he had scarcely 
 time to bestow a keen look upon Sidwell. 
 
 That was a beautiful girl ; he stood musing upon the 
 ])icture registered by his brain. But why not follow, and 
 from a neighbouring seat survey her and the others at 
 
BORN IN EXILE 235 
 
 his leisure ? Pooh 1 But the impulse constrained him. 
 After all, he could not get a place that allowed him 
 to see Sidwell. Her companion, however, the one who 
 seemed to be of much the same age, was well in view. 
 Sisters they could not be ; nothing of the Warricombe 
 countenance revealed itself in those handsome but 
 strongly-marked features. A beautiful girl, she also, yet 
 of a type that made slight appeal to him. Sidwell was 
 all he could imagine of sweet and dignified ; more modest 
 in bearino^, more c^racile, more 
 
 Monday at noon, and he still walked the streets of 
 Exeter. Early this morning he had been out to the 
 Old Tiverton Eoad, and there, on the lawn amid the 
 laurels, had caught brief glimpse of two female figures, 
 in one of which he merely divined Sidwell. Why he 
 tarried thus he did not pretend to explain to himself. 
 Eain had just com.e on, and the lowering sky made him 
 low-spirited; he mooned about the street under his 
 umbrella. 
 
 And at this rate, might vapour away his holiday. 
 Exeter was tedious, but he could not make up his mind to 
 set forth for the sea-shore, where only his own thoughts 
 awaited him. Packed aw^ay in his wallet lay geological 
 hammer, azimuth compass, clinometer, miniature micro- 
 
236 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 scope, — wliy sliould he drag all that lumber about witli 
 him ? Wliat to him were the bygone millions of ages, the 
 hoary records of unimaginable time ? One touch of a 
 girl's hand, one syllable of musical speech, — was it not 
 that whereof his life had truly need ? 
 
 As remote from him, however, as the age of the ptero- 
 dactyl. How often was it necessary to repeat this ? On 
 a long voyage, such as he had all but resolved to take, one 
 might perchance form acquaintances. He had heard of 
 such things ; not impossibly, a social circle might open to 
 him at Buenos Ayres. But here in England his poor 
 orisjin, his lack of means, Avould for ever bar him from 
 the intimacy of people like the Warricombes. 
 
 He loitered towards the South-Western station, dimly 
 conscious of a purpose to look for trains. Instead of 
 seeking the time-tables he stood before the bookstall and 
 ran his eye along the titles of new novels ; he had half a 
 mind to buy one of Hardy's and read himself into the 
 temper which suited summer rambles. But just as his 
 hand was stretclied forth, a full voice, speaking beside 
 him, made demand for a London weekly paper. Instantly 
 he turned. The tones had carried him back to Whitelaw ; 
 the face disturbed that illusion, but substituted a reality 
 which threw him into tremor. 
 
BORN IN EXILE 237 
 
 His involuntary gaze was met with one of equal 
 
 intensity. A man of his own years, but in splendid 
 
 liealth and with bright eyes that looked enjoyment of 
 
 life, suddenly addressed him. 
 
 * Godwin Peak— surely ? ' 
 
 ' Buckland Warricombe, no less surely.' 
 They shook hands with vigour, laughing in each other's 
 faces; then, after a moment's pause, Warricombe drew 
 aside from the bookstall, for sake of privacy. 
 
 'Why did we lose sight of each other?' he asked, 
 flashing a glance at Godwin's costume. ' Why didn't you 
 write to me at Cambridge ? What have you been doing 
 this half-century ? ' 
 
 ' I have been in London all the time.' 
 ' I am there most of the year. Well, I rejoice to have 
 met you. On a holiday ? ' 
 * Loitering towards Cornwall.' 
 
 ' In that case, you can come and have lunch with me at 
 my father's house. It's only a mile or two off. I was 
 <roma to walk, but we'll drive, if you like.' 
 
 There was no refusing, and no possibility of reflection. 
 Buckland's hearty manner made the invitation in itself 
 a thoroughly pleasant one, and before Peak could 
 sufficiently command his thoughts to picture the scene 
 
238 BORX IN EXILE 
 
 towards wliicli lie was going tliey were walking side by 
 side til rough tlie town. In appearance, Warricombe 
 showed nothing of the revohitionary wliicli, in old days, 
 he aimed at making himself, and his speech had a suavity 
 which no doubt resulted from mucli intercourse with the 
 polished world ; Godwin was filled with envious admira- 
 tion of his perfect physique, and the mettle which kept 
 it in such excellent vigour. Even for a sturdy walker, 
 it was no common task to keep pace wuth Buckland's 
 strides; Peak soon found himself conversing rather too 
 breathlessly for comfort. 
 
 ' What is your latest record for the mile ? ' he inquired. 
 
 Warricombe, understanding at once the reference to his 
 old athletic pastime and its present application, laughed 
 merrily, and checked his progress. 
 
 ' A bad habit of mine ; it gets me into trouble with 
 everyone. By-the-bye, haven't you become a stronger 
 man than used to seem likely ? I'm quite glad to see 
 how well you look.' 
 
 The sincerity of these expressions, often repeated, put 
 Godwin far more at his ease than the first moment's sensa- 
 tion had promised. He too began to feel a genuine pleasure 
 in the meeting, and soon bade defiance to all misgivings. 
 Delicacy perhaps withheld Warricombe from further 
 
BORN IN EXILE 21)9 
 
 mention of Whitelaw, but on the other hand it was not im- 
 possible that he knew notliing of the circumstances which 
 tormented Godwin's memory. On leaving the College 
 perchance he had lost all connection with those common 
 friends who might have informed him of subsequent 
 jokes and rumours. Unlikely, to be sure ; for doubtless 
 some of his Whitelaw contemporaries encountered him 
 at Cambridge ; and again, was it not probable that the 
 younger Warricombe had become a Whitelaw student ? 
 Then Professor Gale — no matter! The Warricombes 
 of course knew all about Andrew Peak and his dinini^- 
 rooms, but they were liberal-minded, and could forgive a 
 boy's weakness, as well as overlook an acquaintance's 
 obscure origin. In the joy of finding himself exuberantly 
 welcomed by a man of Buckland's world he overcame 
 his ignoble self-consciousness. 
 
 'Did you know that we were in this part of the 
 country ? ' Warricombe asked, once more speeding 
 ahead. 
 
 'I always thought of you in connection with Kings- 
 mill' 
 
 'We gave up Thornhaw seven years ago. ^fy father 
 was never quite comfortable out of Devonshire. The 
 house I am taking you to has been in our family for 
 
240 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 tliree generations. I have often tried to be proud of the 
 fact, but, as you would guess, that kind of thing doesn't 
 come very natural to me.' 
 
 In the effort to repudiate such sentiment, Buckland 
 distinctly betrayed its liold upon him. He imagined he 
 was meeting Godwin on equal ground, but the sensibility 
 of the proletarian could not thus be deceived. There was 
 a brief silence, daring which each looked away from the 
 other. 
 
 * Still keep up your geology ? ' was Warricombe's next 
 question. 
 
 * I can just say that I haven't forgotten it all.' 
 
 * I'm afraid that's more than I can. During my 
 Cambridge time it caused disagreeable debates with my 
 father. You remember that his science is of the old 
 school. I wouldn't say a word to disparage liim. I 
 believe the extent of liis knowledge is magnificent; but 
 he can't get rid of that old man of the sea, the Book of 
 Genesis. A few years ago I wasn't too considerate in 
 argument, and I talked as I oughtn't to have done, called 
 names, and so on. Tlie end of it was, I dropped science 
 altogether, having got as much out of it as I needed. The 
 good old pater has quite forgiven my rudeness. At present 
 we agree to differ, and get on capitally. I'm sure he'll 
 
BORN IN EXILE 241 
 
 be delighted to see you. There are some visitors with us ; 
 a Miss Moorhouse and lier brother. I think you'll like 
 them. Couldn't you stay overnight ? ' 
 
 Godwin was unable to reply on the instant, and his 
 companion proceeded with the same heartiness. 
 
 Must as you like, you know. But do stay if you can. 
 On Wednesday morning I must go back to town. I act 
 as secretary to Godolphin, the member for Slacksea.' 
 
 Peak's acquaintance with current politics was sliglit, 
 but Mr. Ellis Godolphin, the aristocratic Eadical, neces- 
 sarily stood before his imagination with some clearness 
 of outline. So this was how life had dealt with Buckland. 
 The announcement was made w^ith a certain satisfaction, 
 as if it implied more than the hearer would readily 
 appreciate. Again there was a slight shrinking on 
 Godwin's part ; it would be natural for him to avow 
 his own position, and so leave no room for misunder- 
 standings, but before he could shape a phrase Buckland 
 was again questioning. 
 
 ' Do you ever see any of the old fellows ? ' 
 ' I have met one or two of them, by chance.' 
 As if his tact informed him that this inquiry had 
 been a mistake, Warricombe resumed the subject of his 
 family. 
 
 VOL. I. i6 
 
242 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 ' My Lrotlier Louis is at liome — of course you can't 
 remember him; lie was a youngster when you were at 
 Thornhaw. The younger boy died some years ago, a 
 pony accident ; cut up my fatlier dreadfully. Then 
 there's my sister Sid well, and my sister Panny — that's 
 all of us. I can't quite answer for Louis, but the rest are 
 of the old schooL Liberal enough, don't be afraid. But 
 — well, the old school.' 
 
 As Godwin kept silence, the speaker shot a glance at 
 him, keenly scrutinising. Their eyes did not meet ; Peak 
 kept his on the ground. 
 
 * Care much about politics now-a-days ? ' 
 ' Not very much.' 
 
 * Can't say that I do myself,' pursued Buckland. ' I 
 rather drifted into it. Godolphin, I daresay, has as little 
 humbug about him as most parliamentarians ; we stick 
 to the practical fairly well. I shall never go into the 
 House on my own account. But there's a sort of pleasure 
 in being in the thick of public movements. I'm not cut 
 out for debate ; should lose my temper, and tell disagree- 
 able truths — which wouldn't do, you know. But behind 
 the scenes — it isn't bad, in a way.' 
 
 A longer pause obliged Godwin to speak of him- 
 self. 
 
BORN IN EXILE 243 
 
 'My life is less exciting. For years I have worked in 
 a manufacturing laboratory at Rotherhitlie.' 
 
 ' So science has carried the day with you, after all. It 
 used to be very doubtful.' 
 
 This was a kind and pleasant way of interpreting 
 necessity. Godwin felt grateful, and added with a 
 smile : 
 
 ' I don't think I shall stick to it much longer. For one 
 thing, I am sick of town. Perhaps I shall travel for a 
 year or two ; perhaps — I'm in a state of transition, to 
 tell the truth.' 
 
 Buckland revolved this information ; his face told that 
 he found it slightly puzzling. 
 
 * You once had thoughts of literature.' 
 ' Long given up.' 
 
 ' Leisure would perhaps revive them ? ' 
 
 * Possibly ; but I think not.' 
 
 They were now quitting the town, and Peak, unwilling 
 to appear before strangers in a state of profuse perspira- 
 tion, again moderated his friend's speed. They began 
 to talk about the surrounding country, a theme wliicli 
 occupied them until the house was reached. "With quick- 
 beating heart, Godwin found himself at the gate by 
 which he liad already twice passed. Secure in the 
 
244 BORN IX EXILK 
 
 decency of liis apparel, and no longer oppressed by 
 bashfulness, be would bave gone joyously forward but 
 for tlie dread of a possible ridiculous association wbicb 
 bis name miglit revive in tlie tbougbts of Mr. and Mrs. 
 Warricombe. Yet Buckland — wlio bad no lack of kindly 
 feeling — would bardly bave brouglit bim bere liad tbe 
 reception wbicli awaited bim been at all dubious. 
 
 *If we don't come across anyone/ said Warricombe, 
 * we'll go straigbt up to my room.' 
 
 But tbe way was not clear. AYitbin tbe beautiful old 
 porcli sat Sidwell Warricombe and ber friend of tbe 
 striking countenance, wliom Godwin now knew as Miss 
 Moorbouse. Buckland addressed bis sister in a tone of 
 lively pleasure. 
 
 *Wbom do you tbink I bave met and brougbt borne 
 wdtb me ? Here is my old friend, Godwin Peak.' 
 
 Under tbe two pairs of female eyes, Godwin kept a 
 calm, if ratber stern, face. 
 
 * I sboiild bave bad no difficulty in recognising Mr. 
 Peak,' said Sidwell, bolding out ber band. ' But was tbe 
 meeting quite by cbance ? ' 
 
 To Godwin bimself tbe question was of course directed, 
 witb a look of smilinc^ interest — sucb welcome as could 
 not bave been improved upon ; sbe listened to bis reply, 
 
BORN IN EXILE 245 
 
 then presented him to Miss Moorhouse. A slight hmguor 
 in her movements and her voice, together witli the 
 beautiful coldness of her complexion, made it prohable 
 tliat she did not share the exuberant health manifest in 
 her two brothers. She conversed with mature self- 
 possession, yet showed a slight tendency to abstractedness. 
 On being addressed, she regarded the speaker steadily for 
 an instant before shaping her answer, whicli always, 
 liowever trifling the subject, seemed carefully worded. 
 In these few moments of dialoc^ue, Godwin reached the 
 conclusion that Sidwell had not much sense of humour, 
 but that the delicacy of her mind was unsurpassable. 
 
 In Miss Moorhouse there was no defect of refinement, 
 but her conversation struck a note of spiightliness at 
 once more energetic and more subtle than is often found 
 in English girls. Thus, though at times she looked so 
 young that it might be doubted whether she had long 
 been out of her teens, at others one suspected her older 
 than Sidwell. The friends happened to be as nearly 
 as possible of an age, which was verging to twenty - 
 six. 
 
 When he spoke to Miss Moorhouse, Buckland's frank 
 tone subdued itself. He watched her face with reverent 
 attention, smiled when she smiled, and joined in her 
 
24 G BORN IX EXILE 
 
 laughter witli less than his usual voluuie of souii'l. lu 
 acuteness he was obviously inferior to her, and there 
 were moments when he betrayed some nervousness under 
 her rejoinders. All this was matter of observation for 
 l*eak, who had learnt to exercise his discernment even 
 whilst attending to the proprieties. 
 
 The sounding of the first luncheon-bell left the young 
 men free to go upstairs. When at length they presented 
 themselves in the drawing-room, Mrs. AVarricombe and 
 her younger daughter sat there alone. The greeting of 
 his hostess did not quite satisfy Godwin, though it was 
 sufficiently courteous ; he remembered that ten years ago 
 Mrs. Warricombe had appeared to receive him with some 
 restraint, and his sensation in renewing her acquaintance 
 was one of dislike. But in a moment the master of the 
 house joined them, and no visitor could have had a more 
 kindly w^elcome tlian that he offered to his son's friend. 
 AYith genial tact, Mr. Warricombe ignored the interval 
 since his last conversation with Godwin, and spoke as 
 if this visit were the most natural thing in the world. 
 
 ' Do you already know the country about Exeter ^ ' 
 
 * I have seen very little of it yet.' 
 
 *0h, then, we must show you our points of view. Our 
 own garden offers a glimpse of the river-mouth and a good 
 
BORN IN EXILE 247 
 
 prospect of Haldon — the ridge beyond the Exe ; but there 
 are many much better points within easy reach. You 
 are in no hurry, I hope ? ' 
 
 Louis Warricombe and Miss Moorhouse's brother were 
 away on a long walk; they did not return for lunch. 
 Godwin was glad of this, for time had wrought the 
 change in him that he felt more at ease in female society 
 than under the eyes of young men whose social position 
 inclioed them to criticism. The meal proved as deliglit- 
 ful as luncheon is w^ont to be in a luxurious country- 
 house, when brilliant sunshine gleams on tlie foliage 
 visible from windows, and the warmth of the season 
 sanctions clear colours in costume. The talk was wholly 
 of country pleasures. It aftbrded the visitor no little 
 satisfaction to be able to make known his acquaintance 
 with parts of England to which the AVarricombes had not 
 penetrated. Godwin learnt that the family were insular 
 in their tastes; a mention by Miss Moorhouse of con- 
 tinental scenes led the host to avow a strong preference 
 for his own country, under whatever aspect, and Sidwell 
 murmured her sympathy. 
 
 No less introspective than in the old days, though he 
 could better command his muscles, Peak, after each of 
 his short remarks, made comparison of his tone and 
 
248 BORN IN EXIL?: 
 
 phraseology witli those of tlie otlicr speakers. Had lie 
 still any marks of the ignoble world from which he 
 sprang? Any defect of pronunciation, any native awk- 
 wardness of utterance ? Impossible to judge himself 
 infallibly, but he was conscious of no vulgar mannerism. 
 Though it was so long since he left Whitelaw, the accent 
 of certain of the Professors still remained with liim as an 
 example ; when endeavouring to be graceful, he was wont 
 to hear the voice of Dr. Nares, or of Professor Barber 
 who lectured on English Literature. More recently he 
 had been observant of Christian Moxey's speech, which 
 had a languid elegance worth imitating in certain 
 particulars. Buckland Warricombe was rather a careless 
 talker, but it was the carelessness of a man who had 
 never needed to reflect on such a matter, the refinement 
 of whose enunciation was assured to him from the nursery. 
 That now was a thing to be aimed at. Preciseness must 
 be avoided, for in a young man it seemed to argue 
 conscious effort : a loose sentence now and then, a 
 colloqualism substituted for the more grammatical phrase. 
 Heaven be thanked that he was unconcerned on the 
 point of garb ! Inferiority in that respect would have 
 been fatal to his ease. His clothes were not too new, 
 and in quality were such as he had the liabit of wearing. 
 
BORN IN EXILE 249 
 
 The Wariicombes must have immediately detected any 
 pretentiousness, were it but in a necktie ; that would 
 impress them more unfavourably than signs of poverty. 
 But he defied inspection. Not Sidwell herself, doubtless 
 sensitive in the highest degree, could conceive a prejudice 
 against him on this account. 
 
 His misgivings were overcome. If these people were 
 acquainted with the 'dining-rooms' joke, it certainly 
 did not affect their behaviour to him, and he could hope, 
 by the force of his personality, to obliterate from their 
 minds such disagreeable thoughts as they might secretly 
 entertain. Surely he could make good his claim to be 
 deemed a gentleman. To Buckland he had declared his 
 position, and no shame attached to it. A man of scientific 
 tastes, like IMr. Warricombe, must consider it respectable 
 enough. Grant him a little time, and why should he not 
 become a recognised friend of this family ? 
 If he were but resident in Exeter. 
 
 For the first time, he lost himself in abstraction, and 
 only an inquiry from Sidwell recalled him. 
 ' You have seen the Cathedral, Mr. Peak ? ' 
 * Oh yes ! I attended service there yesterday morning.' 
 Had he reflected, perhaps he w^ould not have added this 
 circumstance ; even in speaking he suffered a confused 
 
250 BORN IX p:xile 
 
 doubtfulness. But as soon as tlie words were uttered, lie 
 felt strangely glad. Sidwell bestowed upon bim an un- 
 mistakable look of approval ; ber motlier gazed witb colder 
 interest; Mr. Warricombe regarded bini, and mused; 
 Buckland, a smile of peculiar meaning on bis close lips, 
 glanced from bini to Miss Moorhouse. 
 
 'All, tben, you beard Canon Grayling/ remarked tbe 
 fatber of tbe family, witb sometbing in bis tone whicb 
 answered to Sidwell's facial expression. ' How did you 
 like bis sermon ? ' 
 
 Godwin was trifling witb a pair of nut-crackers, but tbe 
 nervousness evident in bis fingers did not prevent him 
 from replying witli a natural air of deliberation. 
 
 ' I was especially struck witb tbe passage about tbe 
 barren fiGj-tree.' 
 
 Tbe words miglit bave expressed a trutb, but in tbat 
 case a tone of sarcasm must bave winsred tbem. As it 
 was, tbey involved eitber bypocrisy or ungenerous irony 
 at tbe expense of bis questioner. Buckland could not but 
 understand tbem in tbe latter sense; bis face darkened. 
 At tbat moment, Peak met bis eye, and encountered its 
 steady searcbing gaze witb a perfectly calm smile. Half- 
 a-dozen pulsings of bis beart — violent, painful, and tbe 
 fatal hour of his life bad struck. 
 
BORN IN EXILE 251 
 
 ' What had he to say about it ? ' Buckland asked, 
 carelessly. 
 
 Peak's reply was one of those remarkable efforts of 
 mind — one might say, of character — which are sometimes 
 called forth, without premeditation, almost without con- 
 sciousness, by a profound moral crisis. A minute or two 
 ago he would have believed it impossible to recall and 
 state in lucid terms the arguments to which, as he sat in 
 the Cathedral, he had barely given ear; he remembered 
 vaguely that the preacher (whose name he knew not till 
 now) had dwelt for a few moments on the topic indicated, 
 but at the time he was indisposed to listen seriously, and 
 what chance was there that the chain of thought had fixed 
 itself in his memory ? Now, under the marvelling regard 
 of his conscious self, he poured forth an admirable render- 
 ing of the Canon's views, fuller than the original — more 
 eloquent, more subtle. For five minutes he held his 
 hearers in absorbed attention, even Buckland bending 
 forward with an air of genuine interest ; and when he 
 stopped, rather suddenly, there followed a silence. 
 
 ' Mr. Peak,' said the host, after a cough of apology, ' you 
 have made that clearer to me than it was yesterday. I 
 must thank you.' 
 
 Godwin felt that a slight bow of acknowledgment was 
 
252 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 perhaps called foi*, but not a miiscle would obey his will. 
 He was enervated; perspiration stood on his forehead. 
 The most severe physical effort could not have reduced 
 him to a feebler state. 
 
 Sidwell was speaking : 
 
 'Mr. Peak has developed what Canon Grayling only 
 suggested.' 
 
 * A brilliant effort of exegesis,' exclaimed Buckland, with 
 a good-natured laugh. 
 
 Again the young men exchanged looks. Godwin smiled 
 as one might under a sentence of death. As for the other, 
 his suspicion had vanished, and he now gave way to frank 
 amusement. Luncheon was over, and by a general move- 
 ment all went forth on to the lawn in front of the house. 
 Mr. Warricombe, even more cordial than hitherto, named 
 to Godwin the features of the extensive landscape. 
 
 * But you see that the view is in a measure spoilt by 
 the growth of the city. A few years ago, none of those 
 ugly little houses stood in the mid-distance. A few years 
 hence, I fear, there will be much more to complain of. I 
 dare say you know all about the ship-canal : the story of 
 the countess, and so forth ? ' 
 
 Buckland presently suggested that the afternoon might 
 be used for a drive. 
 
BORN IN EXILE 253 
 
 ' I was about to propose it,' said liis fatlicr. * You might 
 start by the Stoke Canon lioad, so as to let Mr. Peak liave 
 the famous view from the gate ; tlien go on towards 
 Silverton, for the sake of the reversed prospect from the 
 Exe. Who shall be of the party ? ' 
 
 It was decided that four only should occupy the vehicle, 
 Miss Moorhouse and Fanny Warricombe to be the two 
 ladies. Godwin regretted Sid well's omission, but the 
 friendly informality of the arrangement delighted him. 
 When the carriage rolled softly from the gravelled drive, 
 Buckland holding the reins, he felt an animation such as 
 no event had ever produced in him. Xo longer did he 
 calculate phrases. A spontaneous aptness marked his 
 dialogue with Miss Moorhouse, and the laughing words he 
 now and then addressed to Fanny. For a short time 
 Buckland was laconic, but at length he entered into the 
 joyous tone of the occasion. Earwaker would have stood 
 in amazement, could he have seen and heard the saturnine 
 denizen of Peckham Ptye. 
 
 The weather was superb. A sea-breeze mitigated the 
 warmth of the cloudless sun, and where a dark pine-tree 
 rose against the sky it gave the azure depths a magnifi- 
 cence unfamiliar to northern eyes. 
 
 'On such a day as this,' remarked Miss Moorhouse, 
 
254 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 dividing lier look between Ijiickland and his friend, ' one 
 feels tliat there's a good deal to be said for England.' 
 
 ' But for the vile weatlier,' was Warrieombe's reply, 
 ' you wouldn't know such enjoyment.' 
 
 * Oh, I can't agree with that for a moment ! My capacity 
 for enjoyment is unlimited. That philosophy is unworthy 
 of you ; it belongs to a paltry scheme called " making the 
 best of things." ' 
 
 * In which you excel, Miss ^loorhouse.' 
 
 ' That she does ! ' agreed Fanny — a laughing, rosy- 
 cheeked maiden. 
 
 * I deny it ! No one is more copious in railing against 
 circumstances.' 
 
 ' But you turn them all to a joke,' Fanny objected. 
 
 ' That's my profound pessimism. I am misunderstood. 
 No one expects irony from a woman.' 
 
 Peak found it difficult not to gaze too persistently at 
 the subtle countenance. He was impelled to examine it 
 by a consciousness that he himself received a large share 
 of Miss JMoorhouse's attention, and a doubt as to the 
 estimation in which she held him. Canon Grayling's 
 sermon and Godwin's comment had elicited no remark 
 from her. Did she belong to the ranks of emancipated 
 women ? With his experience of ^larcella Moxey, he 
 
BORN IN EXILE 2 00 
 
 welcomed the possibility of this variation of the type, but 
 at the same time, in obedience to a new spirit that had 
 strange possession of him, recognised that such phenomena 
 no longer aroused his personal interest. By the oddest of 
 intellectual processes he had placed himself altogether 
 outside the sphere of unorthodox spirits. Concerning Miss 
 Moorhouse he cared only for the report she might make 
 of him to the AVarricombes. 
 
 Before long, the carriage was stopped that he might 
 enjoy one of the pleasantest views in the neighbourhood 
 of the city. A gate, interrupting a high bank with which 
 the road was bordered, gave admission to the head of a 
 great cultivated slope, which fell to the river Exe ; hence 
 was suddenly revealed a wide panorama. Three well- 
 marked valleys — those of the Greedy, the Exe, and the 
 Culm — spread their rural loveliness to remote points of the 
 horizon ; gentle undulations, with pasture and woodland, 
 with long winding roads, and many a farm that gleamed 
 white amid its orchard leafage, led the gaze into regions 
 of evanescent hue and outline. Westward, a bolder swell 
 pointed to the skirts of Dartmoor. No inappropriate 
 detail disturbed the impression. Exeter was wholly hidden 
 behind the hill on which the observers stood, and the line 
 of railway leading thither could only be descried by 
 
256 BORN IN p:xile 
 
 special searcli. A foaming weir at the hiU'ri foot blended 
 its soft niurnuir witli that of tlie fir brandies hereabouts ; 
 else, no sound that the air could convey beyond the pulsing 
 of a bird's note. 
 
 All had alighted, and for a minute or two there was 
 silence. When Teak had received such geographical 
 instruction as was needful, AVarricombe pointed out to 
 him a mansion conspicuous on the opposite slope of the 
 Exe valley, the seat of Sir Stafford Xorthcote. The house 
 had no architectural beauty, but its solitary lordship amid 
 green pastures and tracts of thick wood declared the graces 
 and privileges of ancestral wealth. Standing here alone, 
 Godwin would have surveyed these possessions of an 
 English aristocrat with more or less bitterness ; envy 
 would, for a moment at all events, have perturbed his 
 pleasure in the natural scene. Accompanied as he was, 
 his emotion took a form which indeed was allied to envy, 
 but had nothing painful. He exulted in the prerogatives of 
 birth and opulence, felt proud of hereditary pride, gloried 
 that his mind was capable of appreciating to the full those 
 distinctions which, by the vulgar, are not so much as 
 suspected. Admitted to equal converse with men and 
 women who represented the best in English society, he 
 could cast away the evil grudge, the fierce spirit of self- 
 
BORN IN EXILE 257 
 
 assertion, and be what nature had proposed in endowing 
 him wuth large brain, generous blood, delicate tissues. 
 "What room for malignancy ? He was accepted by his 
 peers, and could regard with tolerance even those ignoble 
 orders of mankind amid wliom he had so long dwelt 
 unrecognised. 
 
 A bee hummed past him, and this sound — of all the 
 voices of nature that which most intenerates — filled his 
 heart to overflowing. Moisture made his eyes dim, and 
 at the impulse of a feeling of gratitude, such as only the 
 subtlest care of psychology could fully have explained, he 
 turned to Buckland, saying : 
 
 *But for my meeting with you I should have had a 
 lonely and not very cheerful holiday. I owe you a great 
 deal.' 
 
 Warricombe laughed, but as an Englishman does when 
 he wishes to avoid show of emotion. 
 
 ' I am very glad indeed that we did meet. Stay with 
 us over to-morrow. I only w^ish I were not obliged to go 
 to London on Wednesday. — Look Fanny, isn't that a hawk, 
 over Cowley Bridge ? ' 
 
 * Do you feel you would like to shoot it ? ' asked Miss 
 Moorhouse — who a moment ago had very closely examined 
 Peak's face. 
 
 VOL. 1. 17 
 
258 BORN IX EXILE 
 
 ' To shoot it — why do you ask that ? ' 
 
 ' Confess that you felt the desire.' 
 
 ' Every man does,' rephed Buckland, ' until he has had 
 a moment to recover himself. That's the human instinct.' 
 
 ' The male human instinct. Thank you for your 
 honesty.' 
 
 They drove on, and by a wide circuit, occasionally 
 stopping for the view, returned to the Old Tiverton Eoad, 
 and so home. By this time Louis Warricombe and Mr. 
 Moorhouse were back from their walk. Eeposing in the 
 company of the ladies, they had partaken of such refresh- 
 ments as are lawful at five o'clock, and now^ welcomed 
 with vivacity the later arrivals. Moorhouse was some- 
 thing older than Buckland, a sallow-cheeked man with 
 forehead and eyes expressive of much intelligence. Till 
 of late he had been a Cambridge tutor, but was now 
 privately occupied in mathematical pursuits. Louis 
 Warricombe had not yet made up his mind what profession 
 to follow, and to aid the process of resolve had for the 
 present devoted himself to physical exercise. 
 
 Tea-cup in hand, Godwin seated himself by Sidwell, 
 who began by inquiring how the drive had pleased him. 
 The fervour of his reply caused her to smile with special 
 graciousness, and their conversation was uninterrupted for 
 
BORN IN EXILE 259 
 
 some niiiuites. Then Fanny came forward with a Look of 
 mosses, her own collection, which she had mentioned to 
 l*eak as they were talking together in the carriage. 
 
 'Do you make special study of any science?' Sid well 
 asked, when certain remarks of Godwin's had proved his 
 familiarity with the things he was inspecting. 
 
 * It is long since I worked seriously at anything of the 
 kind,' he answered; adding in a moment, 'Except at 
 chemistry — that only because it is my business.' 
 
 'Organic or inorganic chemistry?' inquired Fanny, 
 with the promptness of a schoolgirl who wishes to have 
 it known that her ideas are no longer vague. 
 
 ' Organic for the most part/ Godwin replied, smiling at 
 her. ' And of the most disagreeable kind.' 
 
 Sid well reflected, then put another question, but witli 
 some diffidence. 
 
 ' I think you were once fond of geology ? ' 
 
 It was the first allusion to that beginning of their 
 acquaintance, ten years ago. Peak succeeded in meeting 
 her look with steadiness. 
 
 •Yes, I still like it.' 
 
 'Father's collections have been much improved since 
 you saw them at Thornhaw.' 
 
 ' I hope Mr. AVarricombe will let me see them.' 
 
260 BORN IX EXILE 
 
 Buckland came up and made an apology for drawing 
 Lis friend aside. 
 
 * Will you let us send for your traps ? You may just as 
 well have a room here for a night or two.' 
 
 Perpetually imagining some kind chance that might 
 associate him with civilised people, Godwin could not 
 even pack his portmanteau for a ramble to Land's End 
 without stowing away a dress suit. He was thus saved 
 what would have been an embarrassment of special 
 annoyance. Without hesitation, he accepted Buckland's 
 offer, and named the hotel at which tlie luggage w^as 
 deposited. 
 
 'All right; the messenger shall explain. Our name's 
 well enough known to them. If you would like to look 
 up my father in his study, he'll be delighted to go over 
 his collections with you. You still care for that kind of 
 thing ? ' 
 
 ' Most certainly. How can you doubt it ? * 
 
 Buckland smiled, and gave no other reply. 
 
 ' Ask Fanny to show you the way when you care to go.' 
 And he left the room. 
 
IV 
 
 SiDWELL liad fallen into conversation with Mr. Moor- 
 liouse. Miss Moorliouse, Mrs. AYarricombe, and Louis 
 were grouped in animated talk. Observing that Fanny 
 threw glances towards him from a lonely corner, Peak 
 went over to her, and was pleased with the smile he met. 
 Panny had watchet eyes, much brighter than Sidwell's; 
 her youthful vivacity blended with an odd little fashion 
 of schoolgirl pedantry in a very piquant way. Godwin's 
 attempts at conversation with her were rather awkward ; 
 he found it difficult to strike the suitable note, something 
 not too formal yet not deficient in respect. 
 
 'Do you think,' he asked presently, 'that I should 
 disturb your father if I went to him ? * 
 
 ' Oh, not at all ! I often go and sit in the study at this 
 time.' 
 
 * Will you show me the way ? ' 
 
 2Gl 
 
262 BORN IN p:xile 
 
 Fanny at once rose, and togctlier they crossed tlie liall, 
 passed tliroiigli a sort of anteroom connecting with a 
 fernery, and came to tlie study door. A tap was answered 
 by cheerful summons, and Fanny looked in. 
 
 'Well, my ladybird ? Ah, you are bringing Mr. Peak ; 
 come in, come in ! ' 
 
 It w^as a large and beautiful room, its wide windows, 
 in a cushioned recess, looking upon the lawn where the 
 yew tree cast solemn shade. One wall presented an 
 unbroken array of volumes, their livery sober but hand- 
 some ; detached bookcases occupied other portions of the 
 irregular perimeter. Cabinets, closed and open, were 
 arranged with due regard to convenience. Above the 
 mantelpiece hung a few small photographs, but the wall- 
 space at disposal was chiefly occupied with objects which 
 illustrated Mr. Warricombe's scientific tastes. On a 
 stand in the light of the window gleamed two elaborate 
 microscopes, provocative of enthusiasm in a mind such as 
 Godwin's. 
 
 In a few minutes, Fanny silently retired. Iler father, 
 
 by no means forward to speak of himself and his pursuits, 
 
 was led in that direction by Peak's expressions of interest, 
 
 and the two were soon busied with matters which had a 
 
 « charm for both. A collection of elvans formed the start- 
 
BORN IN EXILE 263 
 
 iiig-point, and when they had entered upon the wide field 
 of pahx3ontology it was natural for ]\Ir. Warricombe to 
 invite his guest's attention to the species of hamalonotus 
 which lie had had the happiness of identifying some ten 
 years ago — a discovery now recognised and chronicled. 
 Though his sympathy was genuine enough, Godwin 
 struggled against an uneasy sense of manifesting excessive 
 appreciation. Never oblivious of himself, he could not 
 utter the simplest phrase of admiration without criticis- 
 ing its justice, its tone. And at present it behoved him 
 to bear in mind that he was conversing with no half-bred 
 sciolist. Mr. Warricombe obviously had his share of 
 human w^eakness, but he was at once a gentleman and a 
 student of well-stored mind; insincerity must be very 
 careful if it would not jar upon his refined ear. So 
 Godwin often checked himself in the utterance of what 
 mio-ht sound too much like flattery. A young man talk- 
 ing with one much older, a poor man in dialogue with a 
 wealthy, must under any circumstances guard his speech ; 
 for one of Godwin's aggressive idiosyncrasy the task of 
 discretion had peculiar difficulties, and the attitude he 
 had assumed at luncheon still further complicated the 
 operations of his mind. Only at moments could he speak 
 in his tru2 voice, and silence meant for the most part a 
 
2G4 BORN IX EXILE 
 
 Studious repression of much he would naturally have 
 uttered. 
 
 Eesurgent envy gave him no little trouble. On enter- 
 ing the room, he could not but exclaim to himself, ' How 
 easy for a man to do notable work amid such surround- 
 ings ! If I were but thus equipped for investigation ! * 
 And as often as his eyes left a particular object to make 
 a general survey, the same thought burned in him. He 
 feared lest it should be legibte on his countenance. 
 
 Taking a pamphlet from the table, Mr. "Wamcombe, 
 with a humorous twinkle in his eyes, inquired whether 
 Peak read German ; the answer being affirmative : 
 
 'Naturally,' he rejoined, 'you could hardly have 
 neglected so important a language. I, unfortunately, 
 didn't learn it in my youth, and I have never had per- 
 severance enough to struggle \\i\X\ it since. Something 
 led me to take dow^n this brochure the otlier day — an old 
 attempt of mine to write about the weathering of rocks. 
 It was printed in '76, and no sooner had it seen the light 
 than friends of mine wanted to know what I meant 
 by appropriating, without acknowledgment, certain facts 
 quite recently pointed out by Professor Pfaff of Erlangen ! 
 Unhappily, Professor Pfafl's results were quite unknown 
 to me, and I had to set them translated. The coinci- 
 
BORN IX EXILE 265 
 
 deuces, sure enough, were very noticeable. Just before 
 you came in, I was reviving that old discomfiture.' 
 
 Peak, in glancing over the pages, murmured with a 
 smile : 
 
 ^ Pereant qui ante nos nostra dixerunt !' 
 
 ' Even so ! ' exclaimed Mr. Warricombe, laugliing with 
 a subdued heartiness which was one of his pleasant 
 characteristics. And, after, a pause, he inquired, 'Do 
 you find any time to keep up your classics ? ' 
 
 * By fits and starts. Sometimes I return to them for a 
 month or two.' 
 
 'Wliy, it's pretty much the same with me. Here on 
 my table, for instance, lies Tacitus. I found it mentioned 
 not Ion" aojo that the first sentence of the Annals is a 
 hexameter — did you know it ? — and when I had once got 
 hold of the book I thought it a shabby thing to return it 
 to the dust of its shelf without reading at least a few 
 pages. So I have gone on from day to day, with no little 
 enjoyment. Buckland, as you probably know, regards 
 these old fellows with scorn.' 
 
 ' We always differed about that.' 
 
 * I can't quite decide whether he is still sincere in all 
 he says about them. Time, I suspect, is mellowing his 
 judgment.' 
 
266 BORN IN PLXILE 
 
 They moved to the slielves where Greek and Latin 
 books stood in serried order, and only the warning dinner- 
 bell put an end to their sympathetic discussion of the 
 place such authors sliould hold in modern educational 
 systems. 
 
 * Have they shown you your room ? ' ^Ir. Warricomlje 
 asked. 
 
 But, as he spoke, the face of his eldest son appeared at 
 the door. 
 
 ' Your traps have safely arrived, Peak.' 
 
 The bedroom to which Godwin was conducted had a 
 delicious fraii^^rance, of source indeterminable. When he 
 had closed the door, he stood for a few moments looking 
 about him; it was his first experience of the upper 
 chambers of houses such as this. Merely to step upon 
 the carpet fluttered his senses: merely to breathe the air 
 was a purification. Luxury of the rational kind, dictated 
 by regard for healtli of body and soul, appeared in every 
 detail. On the walls were water-colours, scenery of 
 Devon and Cornwall ; a hanging book-case held about a 
 score of volumes — poets, essayists, novelists. Elsewhere, 
 not too prominent, lay a Bible and a Prayer-book. 
 
 He dressed, as never before, with leisurely enjoyment of 
 the process. When the mirror declared him ready, his 
 
BORN IN EXILE 267 
 
 eyes returned frequently to an inspection of the figure he 
 presented, and it seemed to him that he was not unworthy 
 to take his place at the dinner-table. As for his visage, 
 might he not console himself w^ith the assurance that it 
 was of no common stamp ? ' If I met tliat man in a room, 
 I should be curious about him ; I should see at once that 
 he didn't belong to the vulgar; I should desire to hear 
 liim speak.' And the Warricombes were not lacking in 
 discernment. He would compare more than favourably 
 with Mr. Moorhouse, whose aspect, bright and agreeable 
 enough, made no promise of originality. — It must be time 
 to go down. He left the room with an air of grave self- 
 confidence. 
 
 At dinner he was careful to attempt no repetition of the 
 display which had done very well at luncheon ; it must 
 not be thought that he had the habit of talking for effect. 
 Mrs. Warricombe, unless he mistook, had begun to view 
 him more favourably ; her remarks made less distinction 
 between him and the other guests. But he could not like 
 his hostess ; he thought her unworthy to be the mother 
 of Sidwell and Fanny, of Bucklaud and Louis ; there was 
 a marked strain of the commonplace in her. The girls, 
 costumed for the evening, affected him witli a return of 
 the awe he had all but overcome. Sidwell was exquisite 
 
268 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 in dark colours, her sister in white. Miss Moorhouse 
 (addressed by her friends as * Sylvia ') looked older than 
 in the day time and had lost something of her animation ; 
 possibly the country routine had begun to weary her a 
 little. 
 
 Peak was at a vast distance from the hour which saw 
 him alight at Exeter and begin his ramble about the city. 
 He no longer felt himself alone in the world ; impossible 
 to revive the mood in which he deliberately planned to 
 consume his economies in a year or two of desert w^ander- 
 iDg; far other were the anticipations which warmed his 
 mind when the after-dinner repose attuned him to un- 
 wonted hopefulness. This family were henceforth his 
 friends, and it depended only upon himself to make the 
 connection lasting, with all manner of benefits easily 
 imagined. Established in the country, the AVarricombes 
 stood to him in quite a different relation from any that 
 could have arisen had he met with them in London. 
 There he would have been nothing more than a casual 
 dinner-guest, welcomed for the hour and all but forgotten 
 w^hen he had said good-night. For years he had under- 
 stood that London offered him no prospect of social 
 advancement. But a night passed under this roof practi- 
 cally raised him to a level whence he surveyed a rich field 
 
BORN IN p:xile 2G9 
 
 of possible conquest. With the genial geologist he felt 
 himself on excellent terms, and much of this was ascrib- 
 able to a singular chance which had masked his real being, 
 and represented him, with scarce an effort of his own, in 
 a light peculiarly attractive to j\Ir. Warricombe. He was 
 now playing the conscious hypocrite ; not a pleasant thing 
 to face and accept, but the fault was not his — fate had 
 brought it about. At all events, he aimed at no vulgar 
 profit; his one desire w^as for human fellowship; he 
 sought nothing but that solace which every code of 
 morals has deemed legitimate. Let the society which 
 compelled to such an expedient bear the burden of its 
 shame. 
 
 That must indeed have been a circle of great intellects 
 amid which Godwin Peak felt himself subordinate. He 
 had never known that impression, and in the Warricombe 
 family was no one whom he could regard even as his 
 equal. Buckland, doubtless, had some knowledge of the 
 world, and could boast of a free mind ; but he lacked 
 subtlety : a psychological problem would easily puzzle 
 him. Mr. Warricombe's attainments were respectable, 
 but what could be said of a man who had devoted his life 
 to geology, and still (in the year 1884) remained an 
 orthodox member of the Church of England ? Godwin, 
 
270 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 as he sat in the drawing-room and enjoyed its atmosphere 
 of refinement, sincerely held himself of far more account 
 as an intellectual being than all the persons about him. 
 
 But if his brain must dwell in solitude his heart 
 might compass worthy alliances — the thing most needful 
 to humanity. One may find the associates of liis intellect 
 in libraries — the friend of one's emotions must walk in 
 flesh and blood. Earwaker, Moxey — these were in many 
 respects admirable fellows, and he had no little love for 
 them, but the world they represented was womanless, and 
 so of flagrant imperfection. Of Marcella Moxey he could 
 not think emotionally; indeed she emphasised by her 
 personality the lack which caused his suffering. Sidwell 
 Warricombe suggested, more completely than any woman 
 he had yet observed, that companionship without which 
 life must to the end taste bitter. His interest in her was 
 not strictly personal ; slie moved and spoke before him as 
 a typical woman, not as the daughter of Martin "Warri- 
 combe and the sister of Buckland. Here at last opened 
 to his view that sphere of female society which he had 
 known as remotely existing, the desperate aim of 
 ambition. 
 
 Conventional women — but was not the phrase tauto- 
 logical ? In the few females who have liberated their 
 
BORN IX EXILE 271 
 
 souls, was not mucli of tlie woman inevitably sacrificed, 
 and would it not be so for long years to come ? On the 
 other hand, such a one as Sidwell might be held a perfect 
 creature, perfect in relation to a certain stage of human 
 development. Look at her, as she sat conversing with 
 Moorhouse, soft candle-liglit upon her face ; compare her 
 on the one hand with an average emancipated girl, on the 
 other with a daugliter of the people. How unsatisfying 
 was the former ; the latter, how repulsive ! Here one had 
 the exquisite mean, the lady as England has perfected her 
 towards the close of this nineteenth century. A being of 
 marvellous delicacy, of purest instincts, of unsurpassable 
 sweetness. Who could not detail her limitations, obvious 
 and, in certain moods, irritating enough ? These were 
 nothing to the point, unless one would roam the world a 
 hungry idealist; and Godwin was weary of the famined 
 pilgrimage. 
 
 The murmur of amiable voices softened him to the 
 reception of all that was good in his present surroundings, 
 and justified in the light of sentiment his own dis- 
 honour. This English home, was it not surely the best 
 result of civilisation in an age devoted to material pro- 
 gress ? Here was peace, here was scope for the kindliest 
 emotions. Upon him— the born rebel, the scorn er of 
 
272 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 average mankind, the consummate egoist — this atmo- 
 sphere exercised an influence more tranquillising, more 
 beneficent, than even the mood of disinterested study. 
 In the world to which sincerity would condemn him, only 
 the worst elements of his character found nourishment 
 and range ; here he was humanised, made receptive of all 
 gentle sympathies. Heroism might point him to an un- 
 ending struggle with adverse conditions, but how was 
 heroism possible without faith ? Absolute faith he had 
 none ; he was essentially a negativist, guided by the mere 
 relations of phenomena. Nothing easier than to contemn 
 the mode of life represented by this wealthy middle class ; 
 but compare it with other existences conceivable by a 
 thinking man, and it was emphatically good. It aimed 
 at placidity , at benevolence, at supreme cleanliness, — things 
 which more than compensated for the absence of higher 
 spirituality. We can be but what we are ; these people 
 accepted themselves, and in so doing became estimable 
 mortals. No imbecile pretensions exposed them to the 
 rebuke of a social satirist ; no vulgarity tainted their 
 familiar intercourse. Their allegiance to a worn-out 
 creed was felt as an added grace ; thus only could their 
 souls aspire, and the imperfect poetry of their natures be 
 developed. 
 
BORN IX EXILE 273 
 
 He took an opportunity of seating himself by Mrs 
 Warricombe, with whom as yet he had held no continuous 
 dialogue. 
 
 * Has there been anything of interest at the Londun 
 theatres lately ? ' she asked. 
 
 ' I know so little of them,' Godwin replied, truthfully. 
 ' It must be several years since I saw a play.' 
 
 'Then in that respect you have hardly become a 
 Londoner.' 
 
 ' ISTor in any other, I believe,' said Peak, with a smile. 
 J I have lived there ten years, but am far from re- 
 garding London as my home. I hope a few months more 
 will release me from it altogether.' 
 
 ' Indeed ! — Perhaps you think of leaving England ? ' 
 
 ' I should be very sorry to do that — for any length of 
 time. My wish is to settle somewhere in the country, 
 and spend a year or two in quiet study.' 
 
 Mrs. Warricombe looked amiable surprise, but corrected 
 herself to approving interest. 
 
 * I have heard some of our friends say that their minds 
 get unstrung, if they are long away from town, but I 
 should have thought that country quietness would be 
 much better than London noise. My husband certainly 
 finds it so.' 
 
 VOL. I. i8 
 
274 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 ' People are very differently constituted,' said Godwin. 
 ' And then it depends much on the nature of one's 
 work.' 
 
 Uttering these commonplaces with an air of reflection, 
 he observed that they did not cost him the self-contempt 
 which was wont to be his penalty for concession to the 
 terms of polite gossip ; rather, his mind accepted with 
 gratitude this rare repose. He tasted something of the 
 tranquil self -content which makes life so enjoyable 
 when one has never seen a necessity for shaping original 
 remarks. I^o one in this room would despise him for a 
 platitude, were it but recommended with a pleasant smile. 
 With the Moxeys, with Earwaker, he durst not thus 
 have spoken. 
 
 When the hour of separation was at hand, Buckland 
 invited his guest to retire with him to a part of the house 
 where they could smoke and chat comfortably. 
 
 'Moorhouse and Louis are fagged after their twenty 
 mile stretch this morning; I have caught both of them 
 nodding during the last few minutes. We can send them 
 to bed without apology.' 
 
 He led the way upstairs to a region of lumber-rooms, 
 whence a narrow flight of steps brought them into a 
 glass-house, octangular and with pointed tops, out upon 
 
BORN IN EXILE 275 
 
 the roof. This, lie explained, had been built some twenty 
 yeais ago, at a time when Mr. Warricombe amused himself 
 with photography. A few indications of its original 
 purposes were still noticeable ; an easel and a box of oil- 
 colours showed that someone — doubtless of tlie younj^er 
 
 .♦ J CD 
 
 generation — had used it as a painting-room ; a settee and 
 deep cane chairs made it an inviting lounge on a warm 
 evening like the present, when, by throwing open a 
 hinged wall, one looked forth into the deep sky and 
 tasted the air from the sea. 
 
 ' Sidwell used to paint a little,' said Buckland, as his 
 companion bent to examine a small canvas on which a 
 landscape was roughed in. It lay on a side table, and 
 was half concealed by an ordnance map, left unfolded. 
 * For the last year or two I think she has given it up. 
 I'm afraid we are not strong in matters of art. Neither 
 of the girls can play very well, though of course they both 
 tinkle for their own amusement. Maurice — the poor lad 
 who was killed — gave a good deal of artistic promise ; 
 father keeps some little water-colours of his, wliich men 
 in that line have praised — perhaps sincerely.' 
 
 ' I remember you used to speak slightingly of art,' said 
 Godwin, as he took an offered cigar. 
 
 ' Did 1 ? And of a good many other things, I daresay. 
 
276 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 It was my habit at one time, I believe, to grow heated in 
 scorn of Euclid's definitions. What an interesting book 
 Euclid is ! Half a year ago, I was led by a talk with 
 Moorhouse to go through some of the old ' props,' and 
 you can't imagine how they delighted me. Moorhouse 
 was so obliging as to tell me that 1 had an eminently 
 deductive mind.' 
 
 He laughed, but not without betraying some pleasure 
 in the remark. 
 
 ' Surprising,' he went on, ' how very little such a mind 
 as Moorhouse's suggests itself in common conversation. 
 He is really profound in mathematics, a man of original 
 powers, but I never heard him make a remark of the 
 slightest value on any other subject. I^Tow his sister — 
 she has studied nothing in particular, yet she can't express 
 an opinion that doesn't bear the stamp of originality.' 
 
 Godwin was contented to muse, his eyes fixed on a 
 brilliant star in the western heaven. 
 
 ' There's only one inconsistency in her that annoys and 
 puzzles me,' Buckland pursued, speaking with the cigar 
 in his mouth. ' In religion, she seems to be orthodox. 
 True, we have never spoken on the subject, but — well, she 
 goes to church, and carries prayer-books. I don't know 
 how to explain it. Hypocrisy is the last thing one could 
 
BORN IN EXILE 277 
 
 suspect her of. I'm sure she hates it in every form. And 
 such a clear brain ! — I can't understand it.' 
 
 The listener was still star-gazing. He had allowed liis 
 cigar, after the first few puffs, to smoulder untasted ; his 
 lips were drawn into an expression very unlike the laxity 
 appropriate to pleasurable smoking. When the murmur 
 of the pines had for a moment been audible, he said, with 
 a forced smile : 
 
 * I notice you take for granted that a clear brain and 
 religious orthodoxy are incompatible.' 
 
 The other gave him a keen look. 
 
 ' Hardly,' was Buckland's reply, spoken with less 
 ingenuousness of tone than usual. *I say that Miss 
 Moorhouse has undeniably a strong mind, and that it is 
 impossible to suspect her of the slightest hypocrisy.' 
 
 * Whence the puzzle that keeps you occupied,' rejoined 
 Peak, in a voice that sounded like assumption of supe- 
 riority, though the accent had an agreeable soft- 
 ness. 
 
 Warricombe moved as if impatiently, struck a match 
 to rekindle his weed, blew tumultuous clouds, and finally 
 put a blunt question : 
 
 * What do you think about it yourself ? ' 
 
 ' From my point of view, there is no puzzle at all,' 
 
278 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 Godwin replied, in a very clear voice, smiling as he met 
 the other's look. 
 
 * How am I to understand that ? ' asked Buckland, good- 
 naturedly, though with a knitting of his hrows. 
 
 ' Not as a doubt of Miss Moorhouse's sincerity. I can't 
 see that a belief in the Christian religion is excluded by 
 any degree of intellectual clearness.' 
 
 ' No — your views have changed, Peak ? ' 
 
 * On many subjects, this among them.' 
 ' I see.' 
 
 The words fell as if involuntarily from Warricombe's 
 lips. He gazed at the floor awhile, then, suddenly looking 
 up, exclaimed : 
 
 ' It would be civil to accept this without surprise, but 
 it is too much for me. How has it come about ? ' 
 
 * That would take me a long time to explain.' 
 
 ' Then,' pursued his companion, watching him closely, 
 * you were quite in sympathy with tbat exposition you 
 gave at lunch to-day ? ' 
 
 * Quite. I hope there was nothing in my way of 
 speaking that made you think otherwise ? ' 
 
 'Nothing at all. I couldn't help w^ondering what 
 it meant. You seemed perfectly in earnest, yet 
 such talk had the oddest sound on your lips — to me, I 
 
BORN IN EXILE 279 
 
 mean. Of course 1 thought of you as I used to know 
 you.' 
 
 * Naturally.' Peak was now in an attitude of repose, his 
 legs crossed, thumb and forefinger stroking his chin. ' I 
 couldn't very well turn aside to comment on my own 
 mental history.' 
 
 Here again was the note of something like genial con- 
 descension. Buckland seemed sensible of it, and slightly 
 raised his eyebrows. 
 
 *I am to understand that you have become strictly 
 orthodox in matters of religious faith ? ' 
 
 ' The proof is,' replied Godwin, ' that I hope before long 
 to take Orders.' 
 
 Again there was silence, and again the sea-breatli made 
 its whispering in the pines. Warricombe, witli a sudden 
 gesture, pointed towards the sky. 
 
 ' A shooting star — one of the brightest I ever saw ! ' 
 
 ' I missed it,' said Peak, just glancing in that direction. 
 
 The interruption enabled Buckland to move his chair ; 
 in this new position he was somewhat further from Peak 
 and had a better view of his face. 
 
 ' I should never have imagined you a clergyman,' he 
 said, thoughtfully, 'but I can see that your mind has 
 been developing powers in that direction. — Well, so be 
 
280 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 it 1 I can only hope you have found your true work in 
 life/ 
 
 ' But you doubt it ? ' 
 
 ' I can't say that I doubt it, as I can't understand you. 
 To be sure, we have been parted for many years. In 
 some respects / must seem much changed ' 
 
 ' Greatly changed,' Godwin put in, promptly. 
 
 ' Yes,' pursued the other, correctively, ' but not in a 
 way that would seem incredible to anyone whatever. 
 I am conscious of growth in tolerance, but my attitude 
 in essentials is unchanged. Thinking of you — as I have 
 often enough done — I always kept the impression you 
 made on me when we were both lads; you seemed 
 most distinctly a modern mind — one of the most modern 
 that ever came under my notice. N'ow, I don't find it 
 impossible to understand my father, when he reconciles 
 science with religion ; he was born sixty years ago. But 
 Godwin Peak as a — a ' 
 
 ' Parson,' supplied Peak, drily. 
 
 'Yes, as a parson — I shall have to meditate much 
 before I grasp the notion.* 
 
 * Perhaps you have dropped your philosophical studies ? ' 
 said Godwin, with a smile of courteous interest. 
 
 ' I don't know. Metaphysics have no great interest 
 
BORN IN EXILE 281 
 
 for me, but I philosophise in a way. 1 thought myself 
 a student of human nature, at all events/ 
 
 ' But you haven't kept up with philosophical specula- 
 tion on the points involved in orthodox religion ? ' 
 
 'I confess my ignorance of everything of the kind — 
 unless you include Bishop Blougram among the philo- 
 sophers ? ' 
 
 Godwin bore the gaze which accompanied this signifi- 
 cant inquiry. For a moment he smiled, but there followed 
 an expression of gravity touched with pain. 
 
 * I hadn't thought of broaching this matter,' he said, 
 with slow utterance, but still in a tone of perfect friendli- 
 ness. ' Let us put it aside.' 
 
 Warricombe seemed to make an effort, and his next 
 words had the accent of well-bred consideration which 
 distinguished his ordinary talk. 
 
 'Pray forgive my bad joke. I merely meant that 
 I have no right whatever to argue with anyone who 
 has given serious attention to such things. They are 
 altogether beyond my sphere. I was born an agnostic, 
 and no subtlety of demonstration could incline me for 
 a moment to theological views; my intellect refuses to 
 admit a single preliminary of such arguments. You 
 astonish me, and that's all I am justified in saying.* 
 
282 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 *My dear Warricombe, you are justified in saying 
 whatever your mind suggests. That is one of the 
 principles which I hold unaltered — let me be quite 
 frank with you. I should never have decided upon such 
 a step as this, but for the fact that I have managed to 
 put by a small sum of money which will make me in- 
 dependent for two or three years. Till quite lately I 
 hadn't a thought of using my freedom in this way; it 
 was clear to me that I must throw over the old drudgery 
 at Eotherhithe, but this resolve which astonishes you 
 had not yet ripened — I saw it only as one of the 
 possibilities of my life. Well, now, it's only too true 
 that there's something of speculation in my purpose ; 
 I look to the Church, not only as a congenial sphere 
 of activity, but as a means of subsistence. In a man 
 of no fortune this is inevitable ; I hope there is nothing 
 to be ashamed of. Even if the conditions of the case 
 allowed it, I shouldn't present myself for ordination 
 forthwith ; I must study and prepare myself in quiet- 
 ness. How the practical details will be arranged, I 
 can't say ; I have no family influence, and I must hope 
 to make friends who will open a way for me. I have 
 always lived apart from society; but that isn't natural 
 to me, and it becomes more distasteful the older I grow. 
 
BORN IN EXILE ^oo 
 
 The probability is tliat I shall settle somewhere in tlie 
 country, where I can live decently on a small income. After 
 all, it's better I should have let you know this at once. 
 I only realised a few minutes ago that to be silent about 
 my projects was in a way to be guilty of false pretences.' 
 
 The adroitness of this last remark, which directed 
 itself, with such show of candour, against a suspicion 
 precisely the opposite of that likely to be entertained by 
 the listener, succeeded in disarming Warricombe ; he 
 looked up with a smile of reassurance, and spoke en- 
 couragingly. 
 
 'About the practical details I don't think you need 
 liave any anxiety. It isn't every day that the Church 
 of England gets such a recruit. Let me suggest that 
 you have a talk with my father.' 
 
 Peak reflected on the proposal, and replied to it with 
 crave thoucrhtfulness : 
 
 ' That's very kind of you, but I sliould have a difficulty 
 in asking Mr. AVarricombe's advice. I'm afraid I must 
 go on in my own way for a time. It will be a few 
 months, I daresay, before I can release myself from my 
 engagements in London.' 
 
 'But I am to understand that your mind is really 
 
 made up ? ' 
 
284 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 ' Oh, quite ! ' 
 
 * Well, no doubt we shall have opportunities of talk- 
 ing. We must meet in town, if possible. You have 
 excited my curiosity, and I can't help hoping you'll 
 let me see a little further into your mind some day. 
 When I first got hold of Newman's Apologia, I began 
 to read it with the utmost eagerness, flattering my- 
 self that now at length I should understand how a 
 man of brains could travel such a road. I was horribly 
 disappointed, and not a little enraged, when I found 
 that he began by assuming the very beliefs I thought 
 he was going to justify. In you I shall hope for more 
 losfic' 
 
 'Newman is incapable of understanding such an 
 objection,' said Peak, with a look of amusement. 
 
 ' But you are not.' 
 
 The dialogue grew chatty. When they exchanged 
 good-night. Peak fancied that the pressure of Buckland's 
 hand was less fervent than at their meeting, but his 
 manner no longer seemed to indicate distrust. Probably 
 the agnostic's mood was one of half-tolerant disdain. 
 
 Godwin turned the key in his bedroom door, and 
 strayed aimlessly about. He was fatigued, but the 
 white, fragrant bed did not yet invite him ; a turbulence 
 
BORN IN EXILE 285 
 
 ill his Lraiii gave warning that it would be long before 
 lie slept. He wound up his watch ; the hands pointed 
 to twelve. Chancing to come before the mirror, he saw 
 that he was unusually pale, and that his eyes had a 
 swollen look. 
 
 The profound stillness was oppressive to him ; he 
 started nervously at an undefined object in a dim corner, 
 and went nearer to examine it ; he was irritable, vaguely 
 discontented, and had even a moment of nausea, perhaps 
 the result of tobacco stronger than he was accustomed 
 to smoke. After leaning for five minutes at the open 
 window, he felt a soothing effect from the air, and could 
 think consecutively of the day's events. What had 
 "happened seemed to him incredible; it was as though 
 he revived a mad dream, of ludicrous coherence. Since 
 his display of rhetoric at luncheon all was downright 
 somnambulism. What fatal power had subdued him? 
 What extraordinary influence had guided his tongue, con- 
 strained his features? His conscious self had had no 
 part in all this comedy ; now for the first time was he 
 taking count of the character he had played. 
 
 Had he been told this morning that Why, what 
 
 monstrous folly was all this? Into what unspeakable 
 baseness had he fallen ? Happily, he had but to take 
 
286 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 leave of the Warricombe hoiisehold, and rush hito some 
 region where he was unknown. Years hence, he would 
 relate the story to Earwaker. 
 
 For a long time he suffered the torments of this 
 awakening. Shame buffeted him on the right cheek and 
 the left; he looked about like one who slinks from 
 merited chastisement. Oh, thrice ignoble varlet ! To 
 pose with unctuous hypocrisy before people who had 
 welcomed him under their roof, unquestioned, with all 
 the grace and kindliness of English hospitality ! To lie 
 shamelessly in the face of his old fellow-student, who 
 had been so genuinely glad to meet him again ! 
 
 Yet such possibility had not been unforeseen. At the 
 times of his profound gloom, when solitude and desire 
 crushed his spirit, he had wished that fate would afford 
 him such an opportunity of knavish success. His im- 
 agination had played with the idea that a man like him- 
 self might well be driven to this expedient, and might 
 even use it with life-long result. Of a certainty, the 
 Church numbered such men among her priests, — not mere 
 lukewarm sceptics who made religion a source of income, 
 nor yet those who had honestly entered the portal and by 
 necessity were held from withdrawing, though their con- 
 victions had changed ; but deliberate schemers from the 
 
BORN IN EXILE 287 
 
 first, amLitious but liimgry natures, keen-sigliled, unscrup- 
 ulous. And they were at no loss to defend themselves 
 against the attack of conscience. Life is a terrific 
 stru2:srle fur all who he^in it w^itli no endowments 
 save their brains. A hypocrite was not necessarily a 
 harm-doer ; easy to picture the unbelieving priest whose 
 influence was vastly for good, in word and deed. 
 
 But he, he who had ever prided himself on his trutli- 
 fronting intellect, and had freely uttered his scorn of 
 the credulous mob ! He who was his own criterion of 
 moral right and wrong ! No wonder he felt like a 
 whipped cur. It was the ancestral vice in his blood, 
 brought out by over-tempting circumstance. The long 
 line of base-born predecessors, the grovelling hinds and 
 mechanics of his genealogy, were responsible for this. 
 Oh for a name wherewith honour w^as hereditary ! 
 
 His eyes were blinded by a rush of hot tears. Down, 
 
 down into the depths of uttermost despondency, of 
 
 self-pity and self-contempt! Had it been practicable, 
 he would have fled from the house, leaving its occupants 
 to think of him as they would; even as, ten years ago, 
 he had fled from the shame impending over him at Kings- 
 mill. A cowardly instinct, this ; having once acted upon 
 it gave to his whole life a taint of craven meanness. 
 
288 BORN IN EXILE 
 
 Mere bluster, all his talk of mental dignity and uncom- 
 promising scorn of superstitions. A weak and idle man, 
 whose best years were already wasted ! 
 
 He gazed deliberately at himself in the glass, at his 
 red eyelids and unsightly lips. Darkness was best; 
 perhaps he might forget his shame for an hour or two, 
 ere the dawn renewed it. He threw off his garments 
 heedlessly, extinguished the lamp, and crept into the 
 ready hiding-place. 
 
 END OF VOL. I 
 
 MORRISON AND GIEB, PRINTERS, EDINBURGH