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 OF THE 
 
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 or ILLINOIS 
 
 V.I
 
 RACHEL DENE 
 
 VOL. L
 
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 London ; CHATTO & WINDUS. Piccadilly.
 
 RACHEL DENE 
 
 A TALE OF THE DEEPDALE MILLS 
 
 ROBERT BUCHANAN 
 
 author of 
 'god and the man," "the shadow of the sword," etc. 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES 
 VOL. I. 
 
 SonDon 
 CHATTO & WINDUS, PICCADILLY
 
 
 CONTENTS OF' VOL. I. 
 
 CHAPTBK 
 
 Q^XVI. The Eael of Beauchamp 
 
 V 
 
 (J 
 
 FAGB 
 
 I. Found IN. THE Snow ... ... ... i 
 
 II. Bad News travels Fast ... ... 12 
 
 III. Little Eachel ... ... ... ... 26 
 
 ^ IV. Two Lads and a Lass ... ... ... 39 
 
 '^ V. A Game at Lawn-Tennis ... ... ... 55 
 
 ^^ VI. The Gbeat Invention ... ... ... 68 
 
 VII. A Black Monday ... ... ... ... 80 
 
 rijVIII. Kalph Hollis ... ... ... ... 95 
 
 .. IX. A Fobewaening ... ... ... ,,. 106 
 
 X. The Feast of St. Leger ... ... 116 
 
 XI. After the Leger ... ... ... ... 133 
 
 XII. Jabez Peyke's Vigil ... ... ... 144 
 
 XIII. Up at the Mills 
 
 XIV. The Dead Man ... 
 
 I5S 
 166 
 
 XV. The Inquest ... ... ... _ _ j^^. 
 
 185
 
 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 CHAPTEE I. 
 
 FOUND IN THE SNOW. 
 
 It was Christmas Eve. Two men and a woman 
 sat, snow- surrounded, in the i^arlour of a small 
 cottage in the valley of Deepdale, Yorkshire. One 
 man was old, and the woman was his grey, world- 
 worn wife; the other man was young, hale, and 
 hearty. 
 
 " Here's Jack's health," said the old man, 
 Jasper Heywood. 
 
 " And here's Jack's wife," said Joan. 
 
 "Nay, let us toast them together," interposed 
 the young man ; " for sure man and wife are one 
 flesh — so here's to 'em both, and God send 'em 
 safely home from these cruel wars." 
 
 " Thou mayst well say cruel, Jabez," replied 
 
 ;oL. I.
 
 2 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 Joan. "Ah, if I had my way, there'd be no 
 fighting men abroad, nor weeping wenches jit 
 home ! " 
 
 " Stop there, woman," said Jasper. " An there 
 was no fightin' men abroad, what'd become o' the 
 weepin' wenches at home ? — what'd become o* us, 
 and our tight little island, I'd like to know— eh, 
 Jabez ? " 
 
 " Well, father, when the world grows older and 
 wiser, perhaps folk will find something better to 
 do than cut other folk's throats ; but I fear that 
 won't be in your time, or mine." 
 
 "Likely not," was the reply. "Meanwhile, 
 since Christmas comes but once a year, let's be 
 jolly. Load thy pipe, lad — here's a bit o' rare 
 bird's-eye ; and, good wife, mull us another mug 
 o' elder, and come round t' fire, for sure it's a 
 bitter neet." 
 
 The old man was right. It was a bitter 
 night indeed. The wind, however, had dropped, 
 and the snow, which had been falling almost 
 incessantly for the past twenty-four hours, had 
 almost ceased.
 
 FOUND IN THE SNOW. 3 
 
 All was calm now, and still. 
 
 When Jabez Pryke came down from Deepdale 
 Mills the night before, to pass Christmas with his 
 adopted father, Jasper Heywood, and his wife 
 Joan, the grey goose in the sky was only just 
 beginning to shed her feathers ; but now she had 
 shed them till the heavens were bare. 
 
 The snowdrift had fallen in the valley breast 
 high, and the roads were nigh impassable. 
 
 " Strikes me, Jabez," said Joan, " thou'lt have to 
 stay here for t' next week ; for sure, thou'lt never 
 be able to get to t' mills wi'out a snow-sledge." 
 
 " Well, good mother," answered the young man, 
 laughing, *'I couldna wish for better company, 
 nor a warmer welcome, though for certain I 
 promised t' gaffer to dine up at t' Hall to-morrow ; 
 and he'll think I'm lost i' t' snow-drift if he doesna 
 see me." 
 
 " Come i' t' ingle neuk; draw thy sen up t' fire," 
 replied Joan. 
 
 The yule log crackled on the hearth, and shed 
 a ruddy glow on the cosy cottage and its occupants, 
 as they gathered closer to the fire.
 
 4 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 Old friends these — friends of many years' stand- 
 ing. Although Jabez Pryke had barely turned 
 his five-and-twentieth year, while Jasper and his 
 ^Yife were approaching the meridian of life, Jabez 
 remembered them as long as he could remember 
 anything ; for, when left an orphan, they had 
 taken him home and brought him up, side by side 
 with their own boy, the little fair-haired Jack ; 
 and from that time forth the two lads loved one 
 another, even as David and Jonathan. 
 
 Once, and only once, an interruption occurred 
 to their friendship. Of course it was a woman, 
 and the old story. They both loved the same 
 woman. But Jael Hoyle loved Jack ; and no 
 wonder, for he was a jovial, genial, good-looking, 
 good-hearted lad, whom to look at was to love; 
 while poor Jabez was gaunt, and gauche, and 
 lantern-jawed, and looked twice his years. In 
 truth, he had little or nothing about him to 
 captivate a woman's eye, nothing but a heart 
 of gold ; but that was out of sight, and counted for 
 little in the contest. 
 
 "When he saw that the girl he loved loved his
 
 FOUND IN THE SNOW. 5 
 
 friend, he guliDed down his sorrow and said nothing ; 
 nay, more, he was best man at the wedding, and, 
 despite the hidden wolf gnawing at his heart, he 
 kept a stiff upper hp and a smiHng face till the 
 hard day's work was done, and he reached his 
 little chamber, and was alone with his God and 
 his great grief. 
 
 Bride and bridegroom went on a visit to Jack's 
 uncle, the dalesman in Cumberland, for their 
 humble honeymoon. When they came back, a 
 week later, Jabez had left his old home for good 
 and all. 
 
 It was a wrench, but the thing had to be done, 
 and so the sooner it was done the better. 
 
 The day after the wedding he went up to the 
 master of the mills. 
 
 Jacob Dene was a shrewd, observant man ; and 
 when Jabez told him that he was bent on going to 
 London to seek his fortune, Jacob soon learned the 
 secret of his servant, and sympathized with him, 
 remembering that he had once been young himself. 
 
 In the end, Jabez did not go to Jjondon; he 
 stayed at Deepdalo, took up his quarters at the
 
 6 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 mills, became a trusted servant and faithful friend. 
 Henceforth his lines "were cast in pleasant places 
 — that is, if any place could he pleasant to him 
 without the lass he loved. 
 
 All is not gold that glitters, and she had perhaps 
 done better had she married him instead of her 
 graceless Jack. 
 
 Twelve months after the marriage, Jacob Dene's 
 only son came home with his beautiful young wife. 
 This gay and gallant youth was a captain in the 
 fighting Forty-First. 
 
 He and Jack and Jabez had been playmates. 
 It is true he had never cared much for Jabez, but 
 Jack and he had played truant together, stolen 
 bird's nests, and robbed orchards together in then- 
 boyhood, and when they met after some years' 
 absence they fraternized as of old. Jacob was a 
 rich man's son, and Jack was poor ; but they were 
 made of the same stuff, and when the one was 
 summoned to join his regiment, he had little 
 difficulty in inducing the other to take the 
 Queen's shilling, and accompany him over the 
 sea.
 
 FOUND IN THE SNOW. 7 
 
 They sailed the same day, and at the same 
 hour, from Southampton for India, accompanied 
 by their young wives. 
 
 That was two years past, and more. 
 
 Those were perilous times. The Oaks and Eow- 
 land Cottage heard regularly from the dear ones 
 until the Mutiny broke out. Then tidings came 
 fitfully, or came not at all. 
 
 At last came news which set every English heart 
 on fire — news of the well of Cawnpore and the 
 siege of Lucknow. 
 
 *' It's strange," said Joan, " that we've no news 
 of Jack or Jael." 
 
 "No news is good news, owd lass," cried her 
 husband ; " so let us hope that Jack and his wife 
 have got clear with a whole skin from those Injun 
 cut-throats." 
 
 **Amen! " replied Jabez. 
 
 Then, for a time, they subsided into silence as 
 they communed with their own sad thoughts. 
 The old dame's heart sank within her when she 
 thought that her boy might have fallen into the 
 hands of the bloody Nana; while Jabez conjured
 
 8 RACHEL DEXE. 
 
 up in the fire a fair face and a pair of haunting, 
 unforgotten eyes — a face -^-hich grew clearer and 
 more distinct every moment. 
 
 At this very instant, when they heard, or thought 
 they heard, nothing hut the heating of their own 
 hearts, the silence was broken by a low, soft wail 
 from without. 
 
 " What's that ? " exclaimed Joan. " Hush ! " 
 
 Again the sound broke on the stillness, this time 
 louder than before. 
 
 "The lantern — quick, the lantern! " cried Jabez. 
 
 Without pausing, he rushed out, followed by 
 Jasper and his wife. 
 
 Strugghug through the snow, they reached the 
 garden gate. 
 
 In front of it, face downwards, lay a woman, 
 clad in a large woollen shawl and a dark, travel- 
 stained dress; a kerchief of vivid crimson from 
 which her long dark hair had escaped streaming 
 in abundance over her shoulders, was bound round 
 her head. 
 
 Once more arose the soft, tender wail which 
 had brought them forth. There was no mistake
 
 FOUND IN THE SNOIV. 9 
 
 now from whence the sound came. There was 
 something heneath the woman's shawl, something 
 which breathed and stirred. 
 
 "A child ! " exclaimed Joan. 
 
 "The lantern, Jasper — the lantern!" cried 
 Jabez. 
 
 " Here, lad— here ! " 
 
 Jabez climbed the gate, stooped, and, lifting the 
 woman, turned her face to the light. 
 
 " My God ! Jael ! " he gasped. 
 
 " Jael — Jael ! " 
 
 For a moment the two men stood as if they 
 were frozen to ice ; then the woman said, or, 
 rather, shrieked, ''What are j^ou standing there 
 for, you ? Standin' like blocks of stone, while my 
 boy's wife and her bairn are freezin' to death ! 
 Look alive — d'ye hear, d'ye hear? Gi' me t' 
 lantern ! Tear t' gate up by t' roots, gin ye canna 
 IDUsh it back ! " 
 
 Even as she spoke the two men tore the gate 
 up, and plucked it forth from the snow, then 
 laying the woman and the child upon it, they 
 carried them to the cottage.
 
 lo RACHEL DENE. 
 
 "Away wi' ye for five minutes," said Joan; 
 " this is a woman's business, not yourn. Stay ! 
 Take t' mattress off t' bed, pillows, bolsters, and 
 bring 'm here. Now t' sponge — t' panshion — 
 mustard — hot water. That'll do ; away ye go ! " 
 
 When they returned from the kitchen, a quarter 
 of an hour later, the child lay croodling on the 
 hearth before the fire. The mother, pale and 
 helpless, almost speechless, lay beside him. 
 
 " The doctor — send for the doctor, Jabez," cried 
 Joan. 
 
 " Nay, mother," gasped Jael. " I'm past doctor's 
 help. I've reached the end of my journey, and 
 am grateful to God that He has brought me here 
 to die." 
 
 "But you'll no die, hinny ; we'll not let ye die 
 — ye'll live, live for Jack's sake." 
 
 " I'm going to join him, mother." 
 
 " What ! my Jack dead ?— dead ! " 
 
 "Yes, mother, I saw him struck down before my 
 very eyes at Lucknow, while trying to save young 
 Jacob Dene from one of the murdering savages. 
 He had only time to say, * Go home, take t' bairn
 
 FOUND IN THE SNOW. ii 
 
 to father and mother, and Jabez, and tell 'em to 
 love him for i^oor Jack's sake.' And you see," she 
 added faintly, "here I am with little Jack." 
 
 After a moment's x)ause, Jabez inquired tenderly, 
 " And Lucy — Lucy Dene ? " 
 
 " The well — the well of Cawnpore ! " gasped the 
 dying woman. 
 
 A thrill of horror passed through her listeners, 
 and she herself fell back in an agony of past horror 
 and present pain. 
 
 " The doctor, the doctor ! " again cried Joan. 
 
 "Never mind t' doctor," moaned the dying 
 woman. " Kiss me, mother, father, kiss me. 
 Jabez, won't you kiss me, too ? My poor lad 
 used to say out yonder, Jabez, that if aught 
 happened to him thou'dst be a feyther to little 
 Jack." 
 
 She looked for a moment into the face of her 
 faithful friend and lover ; then, smiling faintly as 
 he bent and touched her forehead with his young 
 lips, she sank back and died.
 
 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 
 BAD NEWS TRAVELS FAST. 
 
 As the distant bells of Deepdale rang in the 
 Christmas Day, Jabez Pryke stood up on the snow- 
 covered moorland, gazing down the valley towards 
 the dark smoke-covered town and high buildings 
 of the mills. He was quite alone, and remained 
 for a long time like one in a dream. The winter 
 morning was still and peaceful, the snow had 
 ceased to fall, and the sky was quite light and 
 clear. He had wandered thither before daybreak, 
 to commune with his own sad thoughts. 
 
 So lonely and so pastoral was the scene, so 
 devoid of all signs of life, that the solitary man 
 might have been taken for a shepherd on some 
 mountain far removed from men. On every side 
 stretched the white moorland, rising up behind
 
 BAD NEWS TRAVELS FAST. 13 
 
 bim to hills of grass and heather, and strewn 
 everywhere with rocks and boulders glistening 
 moistly in the morning sun. To his left, half a 
 mile away, flowed the- river, thinly sheeted with 
 glistening ice, and creeping silently down towards 
 the mills, and between him and Deepdale stood the 
 cottage, which contained the dead form of the only 
 being he had ever loved. 
 
 Tall, gaunt, ungainly, with a thin, worn face, 
 and sad, weary eyes, he looked much older than 
 his years. His shoulders stooped habitually, as 
 if under some heavy burthen, and, shepherd-like, 
 he leaned upon a thick oaken staff ; indeed, though 
 his life was spent in the busy whirl of manufacture, 
 he had the brooding, wistful air of men who dwell 
 'constantly alone. He wore black to-day, an ill- 
 fitting suit of broadcloth, and a black slouch hat 
 was drawn down upon his brows. 
 
 "When his hour of trial came, he had yielded 
 up Jael Heywood with scarcely a visible sign of 
 pain. It was not in the man's nature to parade 
 either his joy or his grief. But he had wandered 
 up to the moorland, as to-day, to the very spot
 
 14 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 where lie now stood, and had his dark hour alone. 
 How well he remembered it all ! It was summer 
 then, and the moor was scented and alive ; but his 
 heart was not less desolate and cold than on this 
 weary wintry day. 
 
 Even in his utter desolation there was a strange 
 sense of awe and rapture. She he loved was at 
 peace with God ; she was God's only now, and all 
 bitterness was over ; and, crowning grace of all, 
 she had died with his name upon her lips, con- 
 fiding to his care her little helpless child. Stand- 
 ing there alone, and gazing on the roof beneath 
 which she lay in death, Jabez swore that he would 
 fulfil that sacred trust, and be a father to the little 
 Jack. 
 
 At last, slowly and sadly, he turned his steps 
 towards Deepdale, toiling through the snow, and 
 following the windings of the frozen river. Turn- 
 ing aside before he reached the outskirts of the 
 little town, where Heywood's cottage stood, he 
 followed the road eastward till he came in sight of 
 the old church. He drew near the churchyard 
 gate, and looked over upon God's acre, where his
 
 BAD NEWS TRAVELS FAST. 15 
 
 beloved Jael was soon to lie. As he paused thus a 
 hand was laid upon his shoulder, and a cheery 
 voice greeted him by name. 
 
 Turning, he saw the very man he was going to 
 seek — John Lyster, the vicar of Deepdale. 
 
 " A merry Christmas, Jabez ! Counting the 
 tombstones, eh ? A cheerless occupation, surely, 
 for Christmas morning." Then, startled by the 
 expression on the young man's face, the vicar added, 
 " Is anything the matter ? " 
 
 "I have bad news, sir," replied Jabez, gently. 
 " Jael Hey wood — our Jael, young Jack Hey wood's 
 wife — came back last night from India." 
 
 " Impossible ! Came back, do you say ? " 
 
 "Ay, sir; came back — to die. "We found her 
 fainting in t' snow, wi' her little bairn, and — and — 
 she's lying yonder in her father's cottage, waiting 
 till they carry her to her last home." 
 
 Despite his habitual self-control, the man's 
 voice was broken with sobs, and, leaning his 
 head upon the gate, he moaned as if in mortal 
 pain. 
 
 "Bad news, indeed ! " cried Mr. Lyster. " Poor
 
 1 6 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 Jacl ! she was a pretty lass ! And that bright 
 fellow, her husband — he " 
 
 As he spoke, Jabez lifted his head and looked 
 full into his face, with a gaze so wild, so woebe- 
 gone, that he knew at once that there was more 
 to come. Then, in a few words, Jabez told him 
 all the terrible tale which Jael had told with 
 her d3ang lips, of the murderous work far away, 
 of carnage, of horror, and the hideous well of 
 Cawnpore. 
 
 ''My child ! — my little Lucy ! " cried the vicar, 
 hiding his face in his hands, and sobbing like a 
 child. 
 
 It was his turn now to suffer, and, after a few 
 more piteous words, he passed through the church- 
 yard gate, and entered the church, to pass Ms dark 
 hour there. 
 
 Sick at heart, Jabez Pryke walked on. His 
 work was not yet done. He had to carry the 
 sad news onward, and, though his heart sank 
 within him, he would trust the task to no other 
 man. 
 
 Following the road, he made the best of his way
 
 BAD NEWS TRAVELS FAST. 17 
 
 to the house of his master and employer, Jacob 
 Dene, owner of the great Deepdale Mills. The 
 Oaks, as it was called, was situated half a mile 
 from the church and Vicarage, on an eminence just 
 beyond the outskirts of the little town. It was a 
 new mansion, and took its name from the young 
 trees which had been iDlanted in front of its 
 spacious garden. 
 
 Beaching the iron gate, he passed up a winding 
 carriage path, and stood on the broad stone steps 
 of the house — a plain, but spacious building, of no 
 pretensions to architectural beauty. With a deep 
 sigh, he rang the bell. A plainly dressed serving 
 woman opened the door. 
 
 " Is t' master in ? " he asked. 
 
 "Yes, Mr. Pryke." 
 
 "And t' mistress?" he added, thinking with a 
 tremor of the tale he had to tell. 
 
 " Nay ; mistress has just stepped out to see a 
 sick lass i' the town." 
 
 Jabez stepped into the hall, and stood there 
 bareheaded. 
 
 "Tell t' master I wish to see him." 
 
 VOL. I. . C
 
 l8 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 The woman (lisappcared, and returning almost 
 immediately, ushered Jabez into a large, plainly 
 furnished study at the rear of the mansion, where 
 a tall man in the prime of life sat reading ; a man 
 with a square determined face and keen black eyes, 
 but with lines of gentleness around his mouth 
 He looked up and nodded as the young man 
 entered. 
 
 "Well, Jabez, what brings thee here on Christ- 
 mas morning ? " 
 
 " Bad news, sir," was the reply. 
 
 " Nothing wrong at the works, my lad ? " 
 
 *'Nay, sir; worse than that. It's bad news 
 from far away — something that concerns your son." 
 
 Jacob Dene rose to his feet, and saw, as the vicar 
 had done, the shadow of the coming sorrow on the 
 man's grief-stricken face. 
 
 " Speak out, man ! What is it? No harm has 
 come to him ? He is not — dead ? " 
 
 Jacob did not reply in words, but the look in his 
 eyes was enough, and Jacob Dene staggered as if 
 before a blow. Then the story was told, as before. 
 Silently, without tears, but pale as death, Jacob
 
 BAD NEWS TRAVELS FAST. ig 
 
 Dene listened ; then, turning away his face, and 
 gazing out through the window of the room, he 
 motioned Jabez to leave him alone. 
 
 To understand the position of affairs, especially 
 as it concerned the present head of the great 
 Deepdale Mills, it will be necessary to go hack a 
 little. 
 
 The Denes had been settled at Deepdale since 
 Jacob, first of that name, came back from America 
 with William Penn, after having helped that astute 
 man to found Pennsylvania. 
 
 Jacob Dene the first had been attracted to the 
 beautiful Yorkshire valley by the bright eyes of 
 Piachel Hunsdeu, a beautiful Yorkshire girl. 
 When he married her, he settled down in the 
 valley, and there the Denes had stayed from that 
 day to this. Like the friend of the founder of the 
 family, they had all been born and bred Quakers. 
 Up to a hundred years ago they had all been 
 farmers, but the Jacob (for the first-born lad was 
 always a Jacob, as the first-born lass was always a 
 Kachel) of that day became acquainted with
 
 20 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 Richard Arkwrigbt, took up bis famous invention, 
 and went into the spinning business; and so from 
 small beginnings were developed tbe great Deepdale 
 Mills, and Dene, alpaca, subluna, and vecuna 
 manufacturers, wbo traded all over tbe world. 
 They employed several thousand hands, and tbe 
 Deepdale Mills were the pride of all Yorkshire. 
 
 Every modern appliance and imx:)rovement bad 
 been brought to bear upon tbe manufactory for tbe 
 good of employer and employed; while the little 
 town itself, its church, its schools, its baths, its 
 gardens, its college and park, were tbe envy and 
 admiration of the country, and all broad England 
 besides. 
 
 Jacob Dene, tbe present master of tbe mills, was 
 an austere man ; but be was a large-hearted and 
 liberal, and, in many respects, a modern idea'd 
 man — possibly a little too modern idea'd — for be 
 loathed tbe profession of arms as much as be 
 detested capital punishment. Except hanging a 
 man, be maintained that the worst use to which a 
 man could be put was the occupation of cutting 
 throats for hire. He was not one of those men
 
 BAD NEWS TRAVELS FAST. 21 
 
 who confine their interest in a subject to a merely 
 theoretical view of it ; hence, upon a certain 
 memorable occasion, he formed one of a deputa- 
 tion who travelled to St. Petersburg to wait upon 
 the Tsar for the purpose of beseeching the Autocrat 
 of the North to refer some impending war to 
 arbitration. As everybody knows, the Quaker and 
 his friends had their journey for nothing; still, 
 they had done their best, and no one can do better 
 than that. 
 
 These being Jacob's views, it may readily be 
 conceived that he was distressed beyond measure 
 when his only sou and heir, young Jacob Dene, in 
 direct defiance of the family traditions, became a 
 soldier. Nor were matters much mended when 
 he espoused Lucy Lyster, the vicar's pretty but 
 penniless daughter. 
 
 True, poor Lucy was as good as she was beauti- 
 ful ; but the Denes had always married money and 
 land, and when there was neither one nor the 
 other, it widened the breach. And so, when they 
 parted, and the last " good-bye " was said, although 
 there was no bad blood 'twixt son and sire, there
 
 22 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 ^Yas some coldness between them, and more between 
 Jacob Dene and the vicar of Deepdalc. 
 
 The truth was, Jacob thought that the vicar had 
 been too facile and comphant a father, and that, 
 in point of fact, he had planted his penniless 
 daughter upon the wealthy heir of the Deepdale 
 Mills. Never was there a graver mistake, or a 
 greater injustice. The young couidIo loved each 
 other, and all the fathers and mothers in the 
 world would have been powerless to have kept 
 them apart. 
 
 As the reader already knows, when Captain 
 Dene went out to India with his young wife, Jasper 
 Heywood's son Jack and his wife Jael sailed with 
 them. 
 
 It was a heavy day at Deepdale when these 
 young people left theu* native valley. Jacob Dene 
 seemed hard and self-contained, and bade them a 
 cold good-bye ; but many days elapsed before he 
 returned to himself. "When the poor mother loses 
 her only son, the blow falls as heavily in the palace 
 as the cottage, and Susanna Dene bewailed her 
 boy as much as Joan Hey wood be wept hers.
 
 BAD NEWS TRAVELS FAST. 23 
 
 Jabez Pryke, who suffered most of all, kept his 
 sorrow to himself. He and the vicar accompanied 
 the young people to Southampton to see the last 
 of them ; and from that time forth the lonely man 
 and the lonely parson (for Mr. Lyster was a 
 widower) were firm friends. The latter had in- 
 stinctively divined Jabez's secret, and sympathized 
 with his grief and self-abnegation. 
 
 Jabez Pryke left the master of the mills to brood 
 over the terrible story which Jael Heywood had 
 brought from Lucknow. The master of the mills 
 remained for a long time silent, as a man trans- 
 fixed to stone. Two hours later, however, he went 
 down to the Vicarage. Extending his hand to his 
 quondam enemy, he said — 
 
 "Friend, thou hast heard." 
 
 "The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away, 
 blessed be the name of the Lord," replied the vicar. 
 
 " I have tried to school myself to say so," 
 returned the millionaire, "but I cannot as yet; 
 my heart was ever rebellious. It runs in the blood 
 of the Denes. Well, I am justly punished. We are
 
 24 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 two cliilcllcss old men ; those whom we loved have 
 been taken from us, and have left no sign that 
 they ever lived. It is hard to bear. Let us not 
 make it harder still by enmit}'. Canst thou 
 forgive me?" 
 
 The vicar grasped his hand in silence, and no 
 more was said ; but from that time forth all was 
 forgotten and forgiven. 
 
 When it was known at church time that little 
 Jack and his mother had been found in the snow 
 over night, outside Heywood's cottage, the whole 
 valley was alive. Foremost among the visitors to 
 the chamber of death were the vicar, Jacob Dene, 
 and Susanna his wife. Over that scene of common 
 suffering we will draw a veil. 
 
 Every one wondered how poor Jael had ever 
 reached Deepdale. Subsequent inquiries served to 
 show that the Government had provided for her 
 passage to England, and that, on her arrival, 
 although enfeebled by disease and privation, she 
 persisted in pressing onwards to her native valley ; 
 that when she arrived at Barford, unable to obtain 
 a conveyance, she started forth to walk, was over-
 
 BAD NEWS TRAVELS FAST. 25 
 
 taken by tlie sno'^storm, and fell deatli-stricken on 
 the very threshold of her own old home. 
 
 As Jacob Dene gazed on the infant boy, who, all 
 unmindful of his loss, lay crowing in his grandam's 
 arms, he thought that he would have given all the 
 wealth of Deepdale to have had a jBower like that 
 blossoming in his childless home.
 
 26 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 LITTLE RACHEL. 
 
 Time speedily confirmed the doleful tidings brought 
 by Jael Heywood to Deepdale that memorable 
 \\-inter night. Full details arrived ere long, and 
 there could no longer be any doubt that young 
 CaiDtain Dene had fallen at the moment of the 
 relief of Lucknow, and Lucy his wife was among 
 the victims at Cawnpore. As they read the horrible 
 record, both Jacob Dene and John Lyster forgot 
 their gentle creed ; the one remembered no longer 
 that he was a clergyman, the other that he was 
 a Quaker. They felt only, in that supreme 
 hour of sorrow, that they were fathers and 
 Englishmen. 
 
 Their hands clenched, their eyes flashing fii-e, 
 they stood together outside the churchyard, where 
 poor Jael was now peacefully asleep.
 
 LITTLE RACHEL. 27 
 
 The vicar exclaimed, '* These things must not 
 be thought of, but they make men mad ! " 
 
 "Not thought of?" echoed the master of the 
 mills. *'Not thought of? I can think of naught 
 but thy poor child, my boy's wife. Had I been 
 there ! had I been there ! " 
 
 " Had we both been there ! " 
 
 Then the clergj^man said something very un- 
 canonical, and parson and Quaker, after wringing 
 each other's hands, strode off in opposite direc- 
 tions to walk their agony away. Women, however, 
 cannot relieve their pent-up sorrows in the manner 
 of strong men ; they can only suffer and endure. 
 In silence and alone, the poor bereaved mother, 
 Susanna Dene, mourned the loved ones whose loss 
 had made her home so desolate ! 
 
 In that terrible hour of England's ghastly vic- 
 tory, when horror was XDiled on horror, and every 
 day brought fresh news of victory blended with 
 calamity, the cries of grief and agony were echoed 
 in a thousand English homes. The nation, like 
 Christian in the fable, was passing through the 
 very Valley of the Shadow of Death. Little wonder,
 
 28 RACHEL DEXE. 
 
 indeed, that men forget their magnanimity^ and 
 women their faith in God, before the spectacle of 
 such tribulation. Justice -^ivas shaken on her 
 throne; Mercy, like an avenging angel, changed 
 her natui-e and waved the bloody dagger of revenge, 
 and wherever the English tongue was spoken rose 
 one common shriek demanding retribution. 
 
 Nature, ever heedless of the fitful and unreason- 
 ing strife of man, continued her secret ministra- 
 tions, and drew over the graves of many dead her 
 coverlet of grass and flowers. The winter had 
 passed away, and spring blew her windy clarion 
 on the hills. Where snow had lain on the broad 
 upland moors, the thyme and heather waved, and 
 the air hummed with sounds of joyful life. 
 
 One Saturday afternoon in earl}^ summer, Jabez, 
 the overseer, left the mills, and, going along with 
 the stream of men and women homeward bound, 
 made his way to the churchyard, to gaze, as was 
 his constant custom, on the grave of poor Jael. 
 Work was over for the day, and the folk were 
 swarming like bees out of a hive. Elderly men 
 gathered in groups, lads went along arm in arm,
 
 LITTLE RACHEL. 29 
 
 lasses laughed and flirted with their sweethearts, 
 and above the hum of stronger voices rose the clear 
 cries of children. Jabez heard nothing, heeded 
 no one ; his thoughts were far away. Leaving 
 the throng behind him, he strolled into the 
 churchyard. 
 
 He knew the grave among all the rest. It lay 
 in the sunny corner of the churchyard, and early 
 spring flowers, crocus and anemone, had already 
 been placed there by his hands. He stood for' a 
 long time looking down upon it, and thinking of 
 the fragile form that slept below. At last, passing 
 his hand across his dim eyes, he left the grave, and 
 regained the open road. 
 
 Again he followed the road up towards the moor, 
 and, after half an hour's walk, stood among the 
 upland grass and heather and looked back at 
 Deepdale. Sad and grief- worn as he was, his 
 spirit was now quite at peace. Fresh from the 
 stress of work and life, he enjoyed his own 
 loneliness and that of the beautiful scene sur- 
 rounding him. 
 
 Many a time, he remembered, he had wandered
 
 30 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 hither with Jael, he a tall, ungainly lad, she a 
 bright, laughing' girl. Both were too young to 
 think of love, but he, the elder, felt something 
 stirring in his heart which was to ripen in time to 
 tender passion. He had followed his little play- 
 mate like her shadow, he had obeyed like a slave 
 the slightest waving of her hand ; and then — and 
 then, afterwards, had come the knowledge that it 
 was all hopeless, and that the light in her young 
 eyes, the love in her young heart, was not for Mm ! 
 Well, it was all over; and his love still lived, 
 though Jael was dead. He would not have had it 
 otherwise. He felt, that still spring morning, that 
 were his life to be lived again, he would not change 
 it. She had trusted him even unto death. She 
 had left him her last blessing, and the care of 
 her little child. 
 
 As he turned to stroll homeward he heard the 
 sound of carriage wheels, and looking backward he 
 saw an open waggonette coming slowly along the 
 road which winds from distant Barford across 
 the moor. In Deepdale every one knew his neigh- 
 bour, and Jabez saw at a glance that the occupants
 
 LITTLE RACHEL. 31 
 
 of the vehicle were strangers. Behind the driver 
 sat a lady of middle age, with a face worn but 
 beautiful, and by her side, looking eagerly out at 
 the prosiject, stood a little dark-haired boy of three 
 or four. Opposite to her sat a black woman, clad 
 in the familiar costume of an Indian ayah, and 
 holding in her arms an infant child. 
 
 As Jabez stood on the roadside, the carriage 
 approached nearer. The sight of the Indian 
 woman sent the thought at once to India, and 
 called up the picture of wild scenes and terrible 
 events. 
 
 "Who can they be ?" thought Jabez ; when, at 
 a word from the lady, the waggonette drew up, and 
 a clear, musical voice said — 
 
 " Do you belong to Deepdale ? " 
 
 Jabez looked up, met the lady's gaze, and 
 touched his hat respectfully. 
 
 "Yes, my lady. I work in 't mill. I'm overseer 
 to Mr. Dene." 
 
 The lady stood up in the carriage, shading her 
 eyes, and gazing towards the little town ; then, 
 glancing down again, she continued —
 
 32 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 " I am going there — to the Vicarage. Can you 
 direct me to it ? " 
 
 " Nay, you can't miss it," replied Jabez. 
 "Follow t' road, and keep straight on past t' 
 church, and you'll see t' house before ye." He 
 added quickly, before she could sign to the driver 
 to go on, " Maybe you come from India ? " 
 
 "Yes," replied the lady, with some surprise. 
 
 "I thought so," said the overseer, glancing at 
 the Indian nurse. "Maybe, too, my lady, you 
 knew t' young captain. Master Dene's son ? " 
 
 " I knew him well," rexDlied the lady. " He was 
 an officer in my husband's regiment, and he fell 
 at Lucknow during the siege. He died side by 
 side with my husband. Colonel HolHs, of the Forty- 
 First." 
 
 "And his wife, my lady — his poor wife — be 
 it true, as we ha' heard, that she be dead 
 too ? " 
 
 Mrs. Hollis looked in surprise at the rough fellow 
 in his working clothes, who, as he spoke, stretched 
 out his hands in agitation, and trembled with 
 sympathy.
 
 LITTLE RACHEL. 33 
 
 " It is quite true," she answered sadly. ''That 
 is why I have come here. I am bringing home her 
 child." 
 
 As she glanced at the infant in the ayah's arms, 
 Jabez climbed up on the step behind the vehicle, 
 and followed the direction of her eyes. The 
 child, a beautiful infant of only a few months 
 old, was sleeping peacefully in its nurse's lap. 
 
 "Did 3^ou know Captain Dene?" asked Mrs. 
 HoUis, gently. 
 
 "Ay, my lady, I knew him well; and his wife, 
 too, poor lass, poor lass! And this be their baii-n? 
 Wonderful — wonderful ! Brought home like t' 
 baby boy, the child 0' our poor Jael." 
 
 The lady noticed with surprise that his eyes, 
 full of tears, looked with infinite regret and tender- 
 ness upon the infant, while his lips murmured 
 something that sounded like a blessing. The 
 next moment he leapt down, and stood bareheaded 
 in the road, watching the waggonette as it drove 
 on. The lady looked back and nodded. Jabez 
 waved his hand. The little boy, leaning over the 
 back of the carriage, watched him and laughed. 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 34 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 ""Wonderful! wonderful!" muttered the over- 
 seer to himself, as he followed them down the 
 road. " Two bah-ns come home out o' t' cruel 
 war — Captain's little daughter, and Jael's little 
 Jack. Minds me o' t' flowers new-blowing on t' 
 poor lass's grave i' the churchyard ! Well, well, 
 out o' death comes life, as parson saj^s." 
 
 Before Jabez Pryke could carry his news home 
 to the Heywoods, Mrs. Hollis had reached the 
 Vicarage and had told her story to Mr. Lyster. 
 She was the widow, as the reader has already 
 heard, of Colonel Hollis, the commanding officer 
 of the fighting Forty-First. The boy who accom- 
 panied her was her only son. The baby girl, 
 already christened Eachel, was the child of Captain 
 Jacob Dene, and Lucy Lyster his wife, brought 
 back to England in accordance with a sacred 
 pledge given to the poor mother before she died. 
 That fragile snowdrop was all that remained to 
 attest that the young soldier and his wife had ever 
 been. 
 
 While the vicar, divided between joy and sorrow, 
 held his little grandchild in his arms, Jabez Pryke,
 
 LITTLE RACHEL. 35 
 
 half a mile away, was bending over little Jack, and 
 Jasper and Joan Heywood looked on in wonder 
 and delight. Before the life that comes, the life 
 that is buried becomes forgotten, and all they saw 
 now was the light in the eyes of the boy poor Jael 
 had left behind. 
 
 " Mother, look ! " cried Jabez, holding out his 
 forefinger to the crowing boy. " Isna t' bairn t' 
 living image 0' poor Jael ? God bless him and gie 
 him good luck for her sake ! " 
 
 " Amen to that, Jabez," responded Joan. " And 
 t' little one you saw up yonder — poor Miss Lucy's 
 lass — does she favour her mother, too ? " 
 
 "Nay, mother, I knew not. She were just like 
 a white snowdrop blooming on t' black wench's 
 heart. I had naut but a glimpse, but she seemed 
 as pretty as God makes little childer." 
 
 There was a long pause ; then Joan said, with 
 a look of tender inspiration, ''Little lass and little 
 lad ! Suppose t' Lord, by-and-by, should bring 
 they two together ! " 
 
 Jasper Heywood, seated in his armchair, and 
 lighting his pipe, looked up and grinned.
 
 36 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 "There thou art, mother! At it again, like all 
 t' women ! They'd ha' marrying and wedding 
 among bairns i' the cradle, if they had their foolish 
 way, wouldn't they, Jabez ? Why, woman alive, 
 little lass, yonder, will grow u^d a i^roud lady, 
 while little Jack here will ha' to work wi' his hands 
 like you and me." 
 
 Jabez answered, still looking gently at the 
 child, " Maybe, maybe ! " But, God willing, and 
 you two helping, t' little man shall ha' learning, 
 and maybe he'll grow up a gentleman, after 
 all." 
 
 Before many hours had passed the news had 
 spread all over the place, and formed the only 
 theme of that Saturday half-holiday. It was 
 discussed at every fireside, and many another 
 single woman, as if to illustrate Jasper Haywood's 
 estimate of the sex, uttered some such prophesy, 
 or forethought, as that expressed by Joan. 
 
 Meantime, in the natural course of things, word 
 of Mrs. Hollis's arrival had been passed from the 
 Vicarage up to the Oaks. First to hear it, in her 
 husband's absence, was Susannah Dene. Her
 
 LITTLE RACHEL. 37 
 
 carriage was at the door, and away she drove at 
 once till she reached the Vicarage ; then, leaving 
 her years behind her, she sprang out, and rushing 
 into the house, descended with tears and cries, 
 and inarticulate expressions of delight, upon her 
 grandchild. 
 
 She introduced herself, sans ceremonic, to Mrs. 
 Hollis — made love to little Ealph, and friends even 
 with the ayah. 
 
 Then nothing would do but the vicar, Mrs. 
 Hollis, the boy, the ayah, and the baby must come 
 at once to the Oaks, where Jacob Dene was now 
 to be found. 
 
 At sight of his son's child the stern man burst 
 into tears. When at length an eventful evening 
 came to an end, the vicar could not find it in his 
 heart to deprive Mrs. Dene of the child, who took 
 up her abode henceforth at the Oaks, to become 
 the heiress of the Denes. 
 
 Although the scion of a noble house, Mrs. Hollis 
 was a lonely woman, for her brother-in-law, the 
 Earl of Beauchamp, had been very much opposed 
 to her marriage with his brother Ealph. She,
 
 38 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 therefore, wisely accepted an offer to keep house 
 thenceforth for the vicar, which was a sensible 
 arrangement for everybody concerned, inasmuch 
 as she contributed three hundred pounds a year 
 towards Mr. Lyster's slender income, and found a 
 home for herself and her fatherless boy. 
 
 The weft of life is ever woven with the warp of 
 sorrow; the one serves to accentuate the other 
 with a keener pleasure, or a deeper pain. Thence 
 there was joy in Deepdale that the i^oor siege- 
 children lived, and sorrow that their parents had 
 died ; but the joy abided, and the sorrow in time 
 was forgotten by all, save the one faithful heart 
 which bewailed now, as it would bewail for ever, 
 the lost love of his youth. 
 
 But, although he sorrowed, Jabez, the overseer, 
 did not sorrow without hope. He had now some- 
 thing to live for — Jack's child henceforth the child 
 of his adoption. 
 
 As for the Denes and the vicar, their dead 
 children lived again in the little Eachel.
 
 39 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 TWO LADS AND A LASS. 
 
 Do you know Deepdale ? Do you know the 
 splendid Yorkshire valley, surrounded on every 
 side by green or heathery hills, watered by a rapid 
 river, and bearing in its bosom the cleanest and 
 happiest of little manufacturing towns? If you 
 have ever passed that way, down the open moor- 
 land, into the clean, carefully-kept streets, past 
 the great many-windowed, many-chimneyed mills, 
 among the cottages and well-tended gardens, from 
 the church to the Vicarage, from the Vicarage to 
 the fine home of the mills' master, you will 
 understand how Eachel Dene, as she grew up, 
 learned to love the place and its people, and to 
 think there was no such pleasant home in all the 
 world.
 
 40 RACHEL DEXE. 
 
 It was the boast of Jacob Dene that his con- 
 nection with the place and people Avas quite 
 patriarchal. He had made it, and kept it, what 
 it was, a model for the world. The thriftless, the 
 idle, the vicious, and the depraved drifted away 
 from Deepdale like scum from the lips of a summer 
 sea; they were out of place there, and found no 
 congenial associations. Industry, cleanliness, and 
 sobriety were the order of the day. The old 
 Quaker saw to it all. He would have no vagabonds 
 among his people. He was kind and liberal to 
 those who set a good example, but stern to the 
 undeserving. 
 
 Through the centre of this Arcadian valley, up 
 through the waving moorland, Eachel Dene rode 
 one summer day, in company with Ralph Hollis — 
 she upon a high-mettled and slender little cob, he 
 upon an almost thoroughbred mare. They had 
 been cantermg and trotting along for a couple of 
 hours, full of high spirits,- health, and youth ; for 
 Eachel was now nineteen, and Ealph only a few 
 years older. 
 
 They were following a bridle-path along the
 
 TIVO LADS AND A LASS. 41 
 
 river-side, and walking their horses, "whilst they 
 kejDt np an animated conversation. 
 
 "How pretty it looks!" cried the girl, gazing 
 from her saddle on the sunny scene around her. 
 *' I think there is no place in the world half so 
 beautiful." 
 
 "A ]iiij, is it not," returned Ealph, "that it is 
 disfigured by the smoke and dirt of the dingy mills ? 
 I hate manufactures and manufacturing places." 
 
 "Nay, there thou art wrong," said Eachel, in 
 the quaint Quaker phraseology she had learnt from 
 her grandfather, and which so well became her 
 pretty lips. " I love the mills and the town best 
 of all. Think how many mouths the mills feed, 
 how many happy homes they make ! They're like 
 a kind, hard-working mother to us all ! " 
 
 The young man laughed somewhat con- 
 temptuously. 
 
 " I don't understand that kind of sentiment. 
 The place, as such places go, is well enough, no 
 doubt ; but I confess I love more gaiety and more 
 life. Deepdale is so dismal and so dull. Even 
 on Sundays the people look begrimed as troglodytes
 
 42 RACHEL DEXE. 
 
 living in the bowels of the earth, and the women 
 work so hard it makes them ill-favoured." 
 
 Rachel laughed and shook her head. 
 
 "There we differ again," she answered. "I 
 often think — 'tis foolish, hut very true — that if I 
 hadn't been my father's daughter, I would have 
 loved to toil hard, and be one of the people." 
 
 "A worker in the mills ! Fancy you dressed in 
 homespun like a mill-girl ! Fancy you being 
 courted like a mill-girl by some fellow with coarse 
 hands and coarser speech ! " 
 
 Rachel flushed, and cried, '' I was not talking 
 of courtship, sir ! But I would not care for a 
 man's hands if his heart were clean ! " 
 
 As she spoke she started, and flushed a deeper 
 red. Approaching her along the river-side was a 
 figure she knew well, that of a lad of about her 
 own age, clad in a rough working suit, and carry- 
 ing a fishing-rod and a small creel. 
 
 " 'Tis Jack Heywood ! " she exclaimed. 
 
 *' So it is," answered Ralph, with the slightest 
 shade of a frown. " Shirking his work, and 
 angling — profitable occupation ! "
 
 TIVO LADS AND A LASS. 43 
 
 Eacbel beckoned, and Jack came up smiling. 
 He was a fresh, heartj^-looking lad, strong and 
 erect, -with a look of self-reliance. He lifted bis 
 bat to the riders, and stood looking eagerly at 
 Eacbel. 
 
 " I bave got an afternoon's boliday," be said, 
 " and am trying my luck witb the fly ; but tbe sun 
 is too brigbt for angling." 
 
 " Are you all well at bome ? " 
 
 " Yes, Miss Eacbel." 
 
 " I must come over soon, and see thy grand- 
 mother. Thou knowest. Jack, thou and I are 
 almost like brother and sister — tbe two siege- 
 bairns, as the people call us, for tbe same trouble 
 left us both in the world alone." 
 
 "Shall we get on?" said Ealph, impatiently. 
 " My mare is restless." 
 
 Eacbel nodded, and, with a light look and nod at 
 Jack, rode on with her companion. Scarcely bad 
 they ridden out of earshot w^hen Ealph, bending 
 towards her, said, with a short laugh, ** There's 
 one of your hard-banded ones. Do you not thank 
 your good fortune that you are so different ? "
 
 44 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 " Nay, indeed," answered Eacliel, with a look of 
 surprise. " My grandfather tells me that Jack is 
 the cleverest boy in Deepdale ! " 
 
 "Jack! That's familiar." 
 
 " And why not ? I almost feel as if he were my 
 brother. We are both motherless and fatherless, 
 and our lots are so much alike." 
 
 " I hope they are very different." 
 
 "And we were friends w'hen children. Thou, 
 too, wast his friend. Thou hast a right to like 
 him." 
 
 " So I do, in his way ; but his way is not mine, 
 Eachel. Look at the mare, how she pricks her 
 ears; she thinks I am speaking of her. Come, 
 shall we cross the moor, and gallop ? " 
 
 Eachel nodded, and leaving the roadside, they 
 came to a stretch of grass and heather, and 
 hastened along side by side. 
 
 The years had come and gone, until some nine- 
 teen had passed away. Eachel had entwined 
 herself round the hearts of the mill-owner and his 
 wife until she had become the light and life of 
 their desolate home. Nor was she less dear to the
 
 TJVO LABS AXD A LASS. 45 
 
 old vicar — for she reminded liim of the wife and 
 of the daughter he had lost. The same doves' 
 eyes, the same sunny hair, the same fairy-like 
 elastic figure, the same laugh, the very voice — 
 came hack again. 
 
 Ealph Hollis had grown into a strikingly hand- 
 some young man, of bright but unstable parts, and 
 petulant temper. He was an apt pupil when the 
 mood took him — but he was wayward and fractious 
 —and somewhat trying to his over-indulgent tutor 
 and his doting mother. This lad might be led, but 
 never driven. Of all his circle of acquaintances, 
 the one who could lead him the easiest was Eachel 
 Dene, who reigned over him, even as she reigned 
 at the Oaks, with autocratic, but benevolent sway. 
 
 As the years grew with her growth — the two 
 old men — her father's father and the father of her 
 mother — loved the girl more and more — while in 
 her young and innocent delight, the poor mother's 
 youth lived again. At first, indeed, they had 
 loved the child because she reminded them of the 
 loved and lost. As the years progressed, they 
 loved her for herself — not because she was by any
 
 46 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 means a paragon, but simply because she "was true, 
 and simple, and honest, and because she loved 
 them deeply in return. 
 
 She was not a young person of advanced culture 
 or remarkable beauty. Her accomplishments were 
 of quite an ordinary character ; but, take her all 
 in all, she was adorable, as only a pretty Quakeress 
 can be. Her figure was slender, straight, and 
 well balanced, giving indications that at its 
 maturity it would leave little to be desired in the 
 way of symmetry. Her complexion was pale, but 
 transparent as alabaster ; and when her heart 
 or emotions were touched, her cheeks flushed a 
 pearl-like pink, which quickened into loveliness. 
 Her head was crowned with a wreath of hair which 
 shimmered from lightest brown into ripest gold ; 
 square brow, dark eyebrows, and dark lashes ; 
 eyes grey ; short, straight nose, with the slightest 
 suspicion of a tip-tilt at the end ; ripe rosy lips, 
 and a firm set chin, which seemed to indicate that, 
 should the emergency arise, she m'lcfht have a will 
 of her own. 
 
 The emergency had not arisen as yet.
 
 TIFO LABS AND A LASS. 
 
 47 
 
 She it was wlio wrote the paternal grandpa's 
 letters — wrote them, too, in a good, round, read- 
 able hand, none of j-our feeble Italian scrawls. 
 She it was who took grandma's tea up every 
 morning, and relieved her of the cares of house- 
 keeping ; who visited the sick, and relieved the 
 needy of the valley ; assisted the maternal grandpa 
 at Sunday school and Dorcas Society; and who, 
 in point of fact, played Lady Bountiful Junior in 
 Deepdale. 
 
 Not that her life was monopolized by these duties, 
 for she had a notion that life was pleasant, and 
 that the world was beautiful, and she enjoyed the 
 spring-time of both. She it was who induced the 
 old people to open their doors, and their hearts, 
 to their friends ; and it was astonishing how 
 much pleasanter the Denes found it than shut- 
 ting themselves up in their former insular ex- 
 clusiveness. 
 
 As for Ealph Hollis, the master of the mills felt 
 bound to do something for the lad, if only because 
 his mother had brought, almost out of the jaws of 
 death, the angel who made Jacob's home happy.
 
 48 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 Mrs. Hollis wanted to send the boy for a term or 
 two to Oxford, but considerations of expense inter- 
 vened. Jacob bad bad enougb of Oxford ; be bad 
 sent bis own boy tbere, witb tbe result already 
 described. No; be would put Ealpb into tbe 
 counting-bouse. 
 
 ** Tbe rest," be said, " would depend on bimself." 
 
 " Tbe rest " is a vague pbrase, wbicb migbt 
 mean anytbing or notbing. It migbt, bowever, 
 mean a partnersbip in tbe firm. Percbance — 
 wbo knew ? — a marriage witb tbe beiress of 
 Deepdale ! 
 
 In tbe end, tbe motber concluded to let Ealpb 
 go to the counting-bouse, not, it is feared, to tbat 
 young gentleman's deligbt, nor very mucb, in tbe 
 long run, to Jacob Dene's satisfaction. 
 
 Jack Heywood was a borse of anotber colour, 
 both figuratively and literally. Ealpb was dark, 
 and somewbat saturnine ; Jack was fair and frank, 
 witb sunny bair and laugbing eyes, eyes of English 
 blue. Ealpb was slender, elegant, and tall ; Jack 
 was equally tall, but he was stalwart, and, for his 
 age, was tbe best swimmer, oarsman, rider, Icaper,
 
 TWO LADS AND A LASS. 49 
 
 runner, cricket-player, boxer, and wrestler in the 
 valley of Deepdale or the West Riding. Ealpli 
 was indolent ; Jack was industrious. Ealph was a 
 great smoker, and fond, already too fond, of his 
 wine ; Jack detested the smell of tobacco, and did 
 not care for wine. Ealph, like Eob Eoy, despised 
 "weavers, and spinners, and a' sic mechanical 
 persons." Jack was a born inventor, and proud 
 of his craft. Ealph disliked books; Jack liked 
 them. He had learnt all that Jabez could teach 
 him of mechanics, and had now left his mgister 
 behind. Not that he was a book-worm— not the 
 least little bit. 
 
 Having enumerated their points of divergence, 
 it is satisfactory to note one or two points on 
 which these lads agreed. They both had a passion 
 for horses— all Yorkshiremen have. Ealph had a 
 horse of his own, or, rather, a mare, which he 
 called after Eachel; and a beauty she was, as 
 indeed she ought to be, considering the price she 
 cost Mrs. Hollis. Jack had picked up a rough- 
 looking cob at Wakefield horse fair for five or six 
 pounds, and had groomed him to such perfection, 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 50 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 that Jabez, as he called bim, ran Eacbel very bard 
 wbenever be got tbe cbance. Finally, both lads 
 vrere unanimous in tbeir admiration for Eacbel 
 Dene. 
 
 Mrs. Hollis bad but one object in life — to see 
 her son ba^^py, beloved, admired. To lier, be was 
 everything. In him her dead husband, the lover 
 of her youth, lived again. A mother's love blinded 
 her to his faults, and, as we have hinted, they 
 were many. 
 
 To be just to the lad, be was devoted to her 
 beyond all things, but he was wrong-headed and 
 strong-headed. Moreover, he was a little im- 
 patient at his lot in life. He thought it hard that 
 he, the heir-apparent to an earldom — for bis uncle 
 Algernon, though on the shady side of sixty, was 
 still a bachelor — should be condemned to a seat in 
 the counting-house, instead of one in the House of 
 Lords. The thought of Eacbel, however, cui-bed 
 his impatience, and he did bis best to fulfil his 
 duties, though it must be admitted that bad was 
 his best. 
 
 There was another mother who also kept watch
 
 TIFO LADS AND A LASS. 51 
 
 and ward over lier boy. I have said " another 
 mother " advisedl}^ for as Jack approached man- 
 hood Joan saw in him the image of her dead son ; 
 and as he grew day by day more Hke her first-born, 
 he found in her all a mother's care, she in him a 
 son's devotion. 
 
 He had his way in everything, however. He 
 was just as honest, tender, and true, and just as 
 petulant and as pugnacious as his father had been 
 before him. Jasper Heywood, too, was as proud 
 of the lad as he had been of his own son Jack. As 
 for Jabez, we have already referred to the pure, 
 unselfish devotion of this single-minded, simple 
 fellow for his dead sweetheart's son. 
 
 Meanwhile, while Ealph smoked, drank, and 
 idled, Jack worked and learnt. At fourteen he was 
 put on to assist his grandfather in looking after 
 the machinery at the mills ; for Jasper was a 
 practical engineer, and foreman in his depart- 
 ment. 
 
 Now, Jack had a positive genius for mechanics 
 of every description. In twelve months' time there 
 was not a bolt, a bar, a pin, a spring, a strap, that
 
 52 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 he had not mastered the mystery of; while as for 
 steam-power, hydraulics, electricity, and chemistry, 
 he had them at his fingers' ends. 
 
 From childhood he had been a visitor at the 
 great house. He and Eachel and Ralph had 
 played together as if they had been brothers and 
 sister — that is to say, up to a certain period. At 
 last " the pale spectrum of the salt " began to cast 
 a shadow between them. Ealph was a born gentle- 
 man, the son of a distinguished officer ; Eachel was 
 born a lady, daughter of a man of fortune; she 
 was, moreover, an heiress. Jack was the son of 
 a private soldier ; moreover, he was a mechanic, a 
 man doomed to live by the sweat of his brow and 
 the work of his hands. So, for that matter, he 
 reflected sometimes, was Eichard Arkwright, and 
 so was Eobcrt Stephenson. 
 
 Jabez was wont to say, " Dreams, my lad — 
 idle dreams." 
 
 "Let me dream while I may, Jabez," the lad 
 replied. " Perhaps I shall wake some day and 
 find myself famous, and then you'll be proud of 
 your pupil."
 
 TIVO LADS AXD A LASS. 53 
 
 " I shall always be proud of him, Jack, and 
 when you are a great man you'll still find a corner 
 in your heart for the old folk and Jabez ? " 
 
 "Always, Jabez," cried the boy, with his 
 mother's eyes. 
 
 Left alone on the roadside, young Heywood 
 stood watching the form of Eachel until it disap- 
 peared. Then he threw down his fishing-rod and 
 sat down in a brown study, looking at the stream. 
 No more fishing for him that day. He was him- 
 self in too deep water. 
 
 Though only a lad of nineteen, he looked some 
 years older, and he had all the manners and 
 appearance of a man. 
 
 " They may come to favour each other some 
 day," Joan had said when he was an infant, 
 speaking of himself and little Eachel ; and part, 
 at least, of the prediction had come to pass. He 
 was as hopelessly in love as ever boy could be with 
 Eachel Dene. 
 
 " Brother and sister ? " he muttered, echoing 
 her words and shaking his curly head. Then he
 
 54 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 looked down at bis coarse dress and bard, toil- 
 worn hands, and felt quite bopeless and despairing. 
 He migbt bave been comforted a little bad be 
 known bow eagerly Eacbel, just before tbey met, 
 bad been discoursing to ber companion, witb 
 "coarse bands " for a text.
 
 ( 55 ) 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 A GAME AT LAWN-TENNIS. 
 
 It was a lovely summer afternoon, and there was 
 a lawn-tennis jDarty at the Oaks, to which some 
 of the young people of the neighhourhood had 
 been invited. 
 
 Of course, Ealph Hollis and his mother were 
 there, and the vicar and his curate; then there 
 were Jack Vipont, the squire's son, fresh from 
 Oxford, and his sister Julia ; young Eaggett, 
 the civil engineer ; and Wilkinson, the solicitor. 
 Besides these, Ealph had got invitations for 
 Captain Fitzherbert, and two or three of the 
 officers of his father's old regiment, the fighting 
 Forty-First, who happened to be quartered at 
 Barford, hard by. The young man was great 
 friends with these curly plungers — dined at mess
 
 56 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 with them, and after-wards adjourned to the rooms 
 of some of the younger blood to play baccarat or 
 poker. 
 
 They were having a pleasant time of it that 
 afternoon, when Jack Heywood, accompanied by 
 his grandfather and Jabez Pryke, called by ap- 
 pointment to show Jacob Dene a new invention 
 which was to revolutionize the manufactui-e of 
 alpaca. 
 
 The interview took place in the great man's 
 study, and Jabez was the first spokesman. 
 
 "It be most all Jack's work. Jasper and I 
 helped him a bit, but he worked the idea out for 
 hissen mostly. The lad's a born talent for using 
 cogs and wheels. Jack, show Mr. Dene how the 
 machine works." 
 
 Jack blushed, and did as he was bid. 
 
 " Thou art a boy," said the Quaker. " 'Tis but 
 a boy's work, after all." 
 
 " We must all be boys sometime," repHed Jabez, 
 laughing. " Jack here's one in a thousand, master. 
 We're both born fools to him, Jasper, his grand- 
 fey ther, and me ! "
 
 A GAME AT LAIVN-TENNIS, 57 
 
 Jacob inspected the model, and hummed and 
 haa'd as Jack put it in motion. 
 
 " Very ingenious indeed ! And what dost thou 
 calculate will be the uett result of this pretty toy ? " 
 
 ** Only an economy of labour and material 
 amounting to about cent, per cent. — that is all ! " 
 replied the lad, sturdily. 
 
 " Thou art reckoning thy chickens, lad, before 
 they're hatched," replied the old Quaker. 
 
 " Perhaps so, sir ; but I'm going to try to hatch 
 'em somewhere or other." 
 
 " Well, send the model to my office at the mills, 
 and we'll see what we can do with it in the course 
 of a few months." 
 
 "Beg pardon, sir," answered Jack, "but I can't 
 do that. It has to go to town to- morrow to be 
 registered at the Patent Office, and thence to the 
 Manchester Exhibition." 
 
 " Thou art a self-reliant youth ! " said Jacob 
 Dene, astonished. 
 
 "I've no one but myself to rely on, sir; and 
 I've been taught to believe that God helps those 
 who help themselves."
 
 58 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 " That's true. Well, since thou art here, thou 
 hadst best come round to the lawn, and see thy 
 old playfellow, Eachel. Thou knowest she's always 
 glad to see thee." 
 
 Jack was not so sure of that. He knew that 
 there was a time when Eachel was really glad to 
 see him, but that time was past and gone. Yet, 
 after all, if th« invention were to strike fire ? Ah, 
 if it were ? 
 
 Jacob chatted pleasantly enough as he led the 
 way to the lawn-tennis ground. Jack's face 
 flushed, as ripples of laughter and pleasant sounds 
 broke upon his ear ; above all, when he heard one 
 voice, the voice he could tell out of a thousand. 
 
 The sight was pleasant enough to look at. 
 Twenty or thirty young people of both sexes loafed 
 about without formality, chatting or flirting as 
 the case might be ; some playing at tennis on the 
 lawn, others disporting themselves amongst the 
 greenery and flowers in shrubbery or summer- 
 houses. The girls, in their quaint Kate Green- 
 away dresses and straw hats, lightened up here 
 and there with a brilliant bunch of ribbons ; the
 
 A GAME AT LAWN-TENNIS. 59 
 
 young men in tlieir flannels of vivid and varied 
 colours, saslies, canvas shoes, and straw hats. 
 
 How bright, and simple, and natural, and 
 unaffected it all seemed ; and yet, as Jack Heywood 
 looked at it, what a gulf intervened between him 
 and every one else there ! 
 
 He stood alone on the edge of the lawn, look- 
 ing at the play, while his graudsixe and Jabez 
 aiDproached, with diffidence, to pay their respects 
 to Mrs. Dene, who was in an arbour dispensing 
 afternoon tea. 
 
 Within a stone's throw of Jack, with their backs 
 turned to him, stood a young couple, talking 
 together. He had no need to see their faces to 
 tell him who they were. 
 
 "Eachel," said the youth, ''you are coming to 
 dine at the Vicarage to-morrow ? " 
 
 "I suppose so," she replied indifferently. 
 
 " Don't say ' suppose.' You will come." 
 
 " Grandpa has promised." 
 
 " I'm glad of that. You know that to-morrow 
 is my birthday ? " 
 
 "Yes."
 
 Co RACHEL DENE. 
 
 " I shall be one-and-twenty. May I speak to 
 Mr. Dene ? " 
 
 " Of course thou mayst speak to him," she 
 replied simply. 
 
 "Don't say *of course' in that cold-blooded 
 ■way. You know what I want to speak to him 
 about." 
 
 " About going into the army, I suppose ? But 
 you must not ! " 
 
 " Confound the army ! I want to speak to him 
 about you. You won't understand me ! Surely, 
 you must feel — you must know, that I can't live 
 without you." 
 
 At this moment the ball came whizzing past 
 them, and as Ealph turned in the effort to stop it, 
 he came face to face with Jack Heywood. 
 
 " Hallo, Heywood ! " he said, with the slightest 
 shade of pique in his voice. "What the deuce 
 brings you here ? " 
 
 " My legs," replied Jack, laughing. 
 
 Eachel, too, laughed at the reply, as she shook 
 hands with the young workman. 
 
 At this moment the game finished.
 
 A GAME AT LAWN-TENNIS. 6i 
 
 "Wilt thou stand in with me for the next 
 game ? " inquired Rachel, with a smile. 
 
 "Nay," answered Jack; "I don't play tennis. 
 If it were cricket, now " 
 
 " Ah, if it were ! I've seen thee hold the wicket 
 against all comers." 
 
 " Eachel, may I bring you a cup of tea?" 
 inquired Ralph, nervously. 
 
 " Nay, thanks ; I'm going to take tea with Mr. 
 Hey wood. Come along " (Jack, she was going to 
 say, but she thought better or worse of it), — " come 
 along, Mr. Heywood," she continued, " and grand- 
 ma will be glad to see thee. And how is the 
 wonderful invention getting on ? " 
 
 As they approached Mrs. Dene and her al fresco 
 tea-table, Ralph turned angrily away towards his 
 mother, who was dispensing tea, and more sub- 
 stantial refreshments, at the opposite end of the 
 lawn. 
 
 "Watching her opportunity, she whispered, " Well, 
 have you made the most of your opportunities, 
 Ralph?" 
 
 "I have; but she holds me on, and keeps
 
 62 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 me off, until I feel inclined to throw it up alto- 
 gether." 
 
 "Foolish boy ! Throw up ten thousand a-3'ear, 
 and the prettiest girl in Yorkshire ! " 
 
 " It's of no use ; I can't get her to come to the 
 point. Just as we were coming to cues, up comes 
 that lout of a Jack Heywood, and she declares on 
 to him immediately, leaving me in the lurch." 
 
 "You can't suppose that she has any proclivities 
 in that direction ? " 
 
 " I don't know. One would think not, for she is 
 of gentle blood on both sides, while he belongs to 
 the scum ; but women are so confoundedly foxy." 
 
 " Methinks a gentleman might remember," 
 said the widow, severely, "that his mother is a 
 woman." 
 
 " Of course he does. You don't suppose that he 
 thinks his mother is a man ? " 
 
 "No; but he sometimes forgets that his father 
 was a gentleman, and that he owes something to 
 his father's name." 
 
 Ealph laughed, and kissed her. 
 
 "Forgive mc, you old darling; but I'm riled.
 
 A GAME AT LAWN-TENNIS. 63 
 
 and when I'm riled I'm forgetful even of what I 
 owe to the best of mothers." 
 
 "Ah, Ealj)h, Ralph," she said, ''you don't know 
 how I love you ! " 
 
 " Yes, I do, mother ; but I suppose I inherit my 
 father's temper as well as his name. So bear with 
 me, for dad's sake." 
 
 While this conversation was going on at one end 
 of the lawn, at the other, Jasper, Jabez, and Jack 
 were being patronized by the world in general — 
 that is to say, by everybody but the Denes. 
 
 The three men were in their Sunday go-to- 
 meeting get-up, and in their dark rustic clothes 
 and stove-pipe hats looked singularly out of place 
 amongst these gay young people, in their airy and 
 graceful costumes. To be sure, Mrs. Dene put 
 them a bit at their ease. To her. Jack was still 
 Jack, Jabez was Jabez, and Jasper, Jasper. 
 
 A muster of young men and women declared 
 on to Eachel. She was obliged to be civil to 
 everybody. So once more poor Jack found himself 
 alone, chewing the cud of pleasant memories — 
 memories which served to deepen the bitterness of
 
 64 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 bis i)resent loneliness. He recalled the time when, 
 as children, they -went out bird's-nesting ; tbe time, 
 too, when Burnside Beck was swollen, and tbe 
 plank bridge broken down. Had be not carried 
 ber on bis back, breast-bigb, tbrougb tbe water ? 
 Had tbey not rolled and romped in tbe new-mown 
 bay wben bairns ? And once, wbile still cbildren, 
 and beyond tbe eyes of tbe prudisb Jacob, bad sbe 
 not called bim out at kiss-in-tbe-ring ? Tbat 
 virgin kiss was still burning on bis lips, wbile sbe 
 bad become a great lady, and be was only a poor 
 operative. 
 
 Ralpb, too, wbo used to be a brigbt, friendly 
 boy, was changed. Yet bow Jack envied bim ! 
 Lost in a brown study. Jack found bimself 
 brought, by sheer accident, in contact with Mrs. 
 Hollis. 
 
 Smiling sweetly upon him, she opened jfire. 
 
 "Ah, ]\rr. Heywood, it is an age since I have 
 seen you ! What brings you here to-day ? " 
 
 " I came to show my model to the master." 
 
 " You've seen my son, I suppose ? " 
 
 "Yes."
 
 A GAME AT LAWN-TENNIS. 65 
 
 " Do you know that to-morrow is bis birtli- 
 day ? " 
 
 " I've heard so." 
 
 "We have a dinner-xDarty at the Vicarage in 
 honour of the occasion — Mr. and Mrs. Dene, and 
 Ralph's intended bride." 
 
 "His intended bride?" echoed Jack. "And 
 who is that, pray ? " 
 
 " Don't you know ? " 
 
 " Nay, indeed." 
 
 " I thought everybody knew that my Ralph was 
 going to marry Miss Dene." 
 
 The lad shrank as if from a blow. 
 
 "Yes, it is so," answered Mrs. Hollis. "I wish 
 you'd come in to-morrow night after dinner to my 
 room, and drink to Ralph's health." 
 
 Jack was silent ; his lips felt dry as dust. 
 
 "Remember, too, if my son can help you in 
 any way — if he can advance your prospects in 
 life " 
 
 She did not finish the sentence, for Jack was 
 gone. He w^as seen no more that night. 
 
 At midnight it commenced to rain, and kept 
 
 VOL. I. J-
 
 66 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 raining until daybreak. The sun was striving to 
 emerge from the clouds when Jack turned up at the 
 cottage, pale and wan as a ghost. 
 
 Joan Heywood had been up all night awaiting 
 him. 
 
 "What's the matter, hinney?" she tenderly 
 inquired. 
 
 "Nothing, grannie." 
 
 **Eh, lad, you may tell that to the men, who, 
 although they know thou'st gotten a hard head, 
 never guess thou'st gotten a soft heart. It's 
 summat about Iter, for sure — I know it is. Rest 
 thy head here, lad — here, where it has rested when 
 thou wert nobbut but a bonnie wee bit bairnie. 
 That's reet. Now, lad, what is it ? " 
 
 " Oh, grannie, she's going to wed Ealph HoUis ! " 
 
 " Who told thee so ? " 
 
 " His mother." 
 
 " Dunna believe her. T' lass knows t' difference 
 'twixt a man and a mannikin." 
 
 "Oh, grannie, grannie," cried the lad, "you 
 don't know how I love her ! " 
 
 And he fell into a passion of tears.
 
 A GAME AT LAWN-TENNIS. 67 
 
 " That's reet, lad — that's reet. It'll tak' t' sore- 
 ness out of thy heart. Look — look yonder ! Dost 
 see t' rainbow stealing out 0' t' clouds, while t' 
 mists of t' neet are meltin' into mornin' ? That's 
 a good sign— a grand sign for thee, lad. And just 
 listen to t' birds; they are singin' a weddin' march. 
 Tak' heart, lad — tak' heart." 
 
 "I will, grannie — I will." 
 
 And he did take heart, as we shall see.
 
 68 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE GREAT INVENTION. 
 
 Jack Hetu^ood might have spared his tears ; his 
 alarm was altogether premature. Jacob Dene 
 held the opinion that all men are equal, that wars 
 are detestable, and that money is the merest 
 dross. This was all very well in theory ; but, 
 although our good Jacob called himself a Quaker, 
 and *'thee'd" and "thou'd" his friends, and was, 
 for that matter, of amiable and peace-loving dis- 
 position, yet he was an aristocrat at heart, and 
 one fully alive to the value of this world's goods. 
 If he ever contemplated the marriage of his grand- 
 daughter, he looked much higher than Ralph 
 Hollis for a suitable husband. 
 
 With the shrewdness of his class, moreover, he 
 saw pretty deeply into the young man's character.
 
 THE GREAT INVENTION. 69 
 
 He knew him to be a bad man of business, a light 
 thinker, and the companion of other light thinkers ; 
 and though he tolerated him for his mother's sake, 
 he entertained no very exalted hopes of his future. 
 He was shrewd enough, of course, to perceive 
 what the match-making mother had in contem- 
 plation ; but he simply shrugged his shoulders , 
 and made no sign. He had perfect confidence in 
 the good sense of Eachel, who was clearly not 
 heart-struck yet. 
 
 The birthday party passed off without any sign 
 or omen. The subject nearest to the heart of 
 Mrs. Hollis was never broached; she also per- 
 ceived that the time was not yet ripe. As may 
 naturally be supposed, she didn't for a moment 
 contemplate the possibility of her darling son 
 ever having a rival in Jack Heywood. Jack 
 was only a common lad, an operative — a nobody, 
 in fact. 
 
 A year passed rapidly away. Ealph Hollis con- 
 tinued to dance attendance upon Eachel without 
 making any visible progress in his suit. Jack 
 Heywood, relieved from his first great fear, toiled
 
 70 RACHEL DEXE. 
 
 late and early at mecbauics, and especially at Lis 
 favourite invention. 
 
 From week's end to week's end old Joan kept 
 the lad's heart up. 
 
 " Coorage, lad," she would say. " ' Faint heart 
 ne'er won fine lady,' as the saying is, and I'll back 
 thee 'gin any lad i' t' count}'." 
 
 A little love goes a long way in the world, and 
 Jack had a great deal, for besides Joan, Jasper 
 doted on his grandson, while Jabez loved him with 
 *' a love beyond the love of woman." For the lone 
 man, this boy crystallized in one bright form the 
 lost love of his youth, the friend of his boyhood, 
 and the girl whom he had adored. To his mind, 
 no woman was too good or good enough for Jack ; 
 and it was a foregone conclusion with Jabez that 
 Eachel could never have the heart to say nay to 
 his boy when the good time came. 
 
 The great invention had been patented, and 
 exhibited at the Manchester Exhibition. One 
 morning, to the delight, though not to the as- 
 tonishment, of Jack and his friends, came the 
 award of the Executive Committee, enclosing the
 
 THE GREAT INVENTION. 71 
 
 prize of a silver medal. By the same post came 
 a communication from the great firm of Briggs 
 and Boodlum, of Bridge Vale, requesting to know 
 Jack's terms for the application of his patent in 
 their extensive factories. 
 
 He was beside himself with delight when he read 
 the letter to grandfather and granny. Of course, 
 Joan gushed, and hugged, and cooed over him. 
 
 "Let un alone, mother," said Jasper, the cynic. 
 " I can't abear to see t' lad molly coddled i' that 
 way." 
 
 " Thee never was a mother, Jasper." 
 
 "No, nor a grandmother, neither. Now what 
 I say is this. Of course t' old gaffer has a 
 reet to t' refusal of Jack's invention ; but if he 
 doan't come to time, why then close at once, 
 my lad, wi' Briggs and Boodlum. What dost say. 
 Jack ? " 
 
 " Well, grandad," answered the lad, " I'd rather 
 hear what Jabez has to say." 
 
 And away ran the lad as hard as he could go to 
 the mills, and brought back Jabez with him, who 
 delivered himself thus oracularly.
 
 72 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 " Why, for sure, I'd rather the honour and the 
 glory o' the thing should be -wi' our own hoel York- 
 shu-e than any other ; so suppose we go and have 
 a talk wi' Mr. Dene. But thou must muzzle thy 
 mouth, Jasper, for the old man's apt to cut up 
 rough if you scratch him the wrong way." 
 
 So it was resolved, there and then, that they 
 should beard the Quaker lion in his den. 
 
 They got to the Oaks just after breakfast. 
 When they were shown into the library, the 
 "gaffer" was in the midst of the Times City 
 article. 
 
 Jabez was right — Jacob Dene was a difficult 
 person to deal with. He was a great man, in a 
 small way — a kind of paternal despot — who liked 
 to do kind and even generous things, but who 
 objected to being driven into them — indeed, he 
 could not bear his hand being forced. He not only 
 liked his own way, but his own way of having it. 
 
 "What brings ye here?" he inquired curtly. 
 "Anything wrong at the mills ? " 
 
 "Nay, sir," responded Jabez, "but our Jack 
 here has got the prize medal at the Exhibition, for
 
 THE GREAT INVENTION. 73 
 
 t' new invention, and be just thought you'd like to 
 have a look at it." 
 
 " Surely it doesn't want three big men to carry 
 a bit jimcrack of a medal," returned the old man, 
 curtly. 
 
 " It's no a bit jimcrack, sir ; it weighs welly an 
 ounce." 
 
 " Nonsense, nonsense ! " cried the master. 
 " Well, hand it over, and let's see it. Hem ! I 
 congratulate thee. Jack Heywood. Well, what's 
 at back of medal ? " 
 
 "The inscription," responded Jack. 
 
 "I've seen the inscription, lad, but there's 
 something more than the inscription behind it. 
 Three great fellows have not come from the mills, 
 merely to show me a medal." 
 
 Jack looked at Jabez, who stepped forward and 
 stammered, " Well, it be this, Mr. Dene," he 
 said, placing Briggs and Boodlum's letter in his 
 hand. 
 
 Jacob read it, and flushed with anger. Then he 
 got up, and strode up and down the library in a 
 most un-Quaker-like manner. Having relieved his
 
 74 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 mind by a little strong language, he cooled down 
 a little. 
 
 " This is most unhandsome, lads, and unhusiness 
 like ! The idea of Briggs and Boodlum coming 
 between me and my people ! Well, if thou likest 
 to go, Jack, go, and luck go with thee. Abandon 
 thy old friends by all means — it's the way of the 
 world." 
 
 " But it isn't my way, sir," said Jack. " The 
 letter only came an hour ago. How am I to 
 answer it ? " 
 
 "Answer it, lad?" cried Jacob Dene. "Why 
 say thou'lt see Briggs and Boodlum further first ! 
 Say that Jacob Dene has secured the invention for 
 Deepdale Mills, on thy own terms ; that is to say," 
 continued the old man, warily drawing himself up, 
 "always provided that the invention works to 
 Jacob Dene's satisfaction. The first thing to be 
 done is to go and show this pretty thing (and it 
 is a pretty thing) to my wife Susanna, and her 
 granddaughter ; the next, to order the machinery, 
 and see how it works, and then we'll arrange about 
 terms."
 
 THE GREAT INVENTION. 75 
 
 So saying, he led the way to the drawing-room, 
 where Eachel and her grandmother gave them all 
 a cordial welcome. Both ladies were delighted 
 with the medal. Finally Jacob rang for a bottle 
 of Madeira, and proposed success to Jack's in- 
 vention. 
 
 "When they were about to leave, Eachel shook 
 hands with the lad, and said, smiling, ** I hope, 
 Mr. Hey wood " 
 
 "You used to call me Jack once," he said. 
 
 "Well, then, Jack, I hope thy invention will 
 realize all thy desires." 
 
 "Do you really hope that?" whispered Jack. 
 
 " Yes, truly." 
 
 "If it does, I shall be the happiest lad in the 
 world." 
 
 As he looked her in the eyes, her face flushed 
 rosy red, but she turned away without another 
 word. 
 
 On their way back home Jasper and Jabez did 
 all the talking. When they got to the mills, the 
 two old fellows were in high spirits as they went 
 from room to room showing the medal. Lads and
 
 76 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 lasses crowded round Jack, to congratulate him, 
 but lie walked about as if he were in a dream. At 
 last he started off to the cottage, and ran every 
 step of the way. 
 
 Joan was making a pudding for the dinner. 
 
 "Granny," said he, "the gaffer has arranged 
 for the invention." 
 
 ** Good news, lad — good news ! " 
 
 "And, granny " 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " ^/«c called me Jac^- .' " 
 
 Then Joan threw her arms, flour and all, round 
 the lad's neck, and hugged him in an ecstasy of 
 dehght at the realization of her prophecy. 
 
 A month later, and one of the machines was 
 fitted up in the mills for the purpose of ascertaining 
 whether it would accomplish all that the young 
 inventor had promised. Jacob Dene, the overseer 
 of the spinning department, Mrs. Hollis, Mrs. 
 Dene, Eachel, Ralph, and the vicar, were formed 
 into an informal committee of inspection to see 
 the result of the inaugural experiments.
 
 THE GREAT INVENTION. yy 
 
 Of course, the ladies knew as much of the matter 
 as they knew of Euclid or Sanscrit, nor were 
 Ealph or the vicar much wiser. The machine 
 accomplished much, but the arrangements were 
 still incomplete. However, the practised eyes of 
 the overseer and Jacob Dene took in in a moment 
 the enormous value which must ultimately accrue 
 from the invention. At present, it required a cog 
 here, a pin there, a strap round a certain barrel, 
 and then — hey, presto ! the entire trade would be 
 revolutionized. 
 
 Jack was overwhelmed with congratulations, 
 and a little dinner was improvised at the Oaks 
 that night in compliment to the happy lad. A 
 very pleasant gathering it was for everybody but 
 Ralph and his mother, who were neither of them 
 too well pleased. Jack was the hero of the hour. 
 Could it have been his fancy that Eachel appeared 
 a little more reserved than usual? Everybody 
 else was full of the great event, but she had little 
 to say about it, pleading ignorance as her excuse. 
 This lack of appreciation was the only alloy to our 
 inventor's triumph.
 
 78 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 AYlien ho got home, while Jasper and Jabez 
 foregathered over their pipes, he got Joan into a 
 corner, and Laid hare his heart. 
 
 "Granny," said he, "s/^e was the only one who 
 said nowt about the invention." 
 
 Joan laughed knowingly. 
 
 " Shows she thought all t' more. Of course, lad, 
 thee doesn't understand. But, there, thou seest 
 thee is na a woman, and dost na know the 
 deceitful ways o' wenches. I know all about 
 'em ; I was a wench once myseu. When thy 
 grandfather used to come a-courtin' me, I allays 
 looked as if I wished un at Kirby Lonsdale, 
 though if he hadna come I should a' greeted my 
 een out." 
 
 " Oh, granny, do you think that she really cares 
 for me a bit — only a little bit ? " 
 
 "Cares for thee? Why, of course she does! 
 Only last Sunday, when she came into church, she 
 smirked and nodded to Mrs. Hollis and Ealph 
 quite sonsy like, then she looked over at our pew 
 and turned pale as a lily. What did she turn 
 pale for, I should like to know? Why, because
 
 THE GREAT INVENTION. 79 
 
 thou was na theer ; and when thou earnest in by- 
 and-by, and she caught sight of thee, she flushed 
 up red as a rose in June. What was that for, I 
 should like to know ? Thou'lt see, this invention 
 will win thee thy wife ; if not to-day, to-morrow, 
 or next day. It'll come, lad — it's sure to come ! " 
 
 Jack caught her in his arms and hugged her. 
 
 "And when thou art a great man, hinney," she 
 said, sobbing, "thou'lt no be ashamed 0' thy old 
 granny— wilt thee. Jack ? " 
 
 " Never — never ! "
 
 8o RACHEL DENE. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 A BLACK MONDAY. 
 
 Just as the new invention was in full swing, Jack 
 got a day off to have a run with the Brocklesby 
 hounds. When he reached the meet there was a 
 brave show of county people, and conspicuous 
 among the party were Ralph Hollis and Rachel 
 Dene. They belonged to the privileged class, and 
 were in the thick of the throng, while poor Jack, 
 being an intruder, merely hung upon the outskirts. 
 His blucher boots, bowler hat, and homely 
 jacket did not contrast to advantage with Ralph's 
 white hat, smart pink coat, boots, and breeches. 
 Evidently Master Ralph was well satisfied with 
 himself or with something else that morning, for 
 the fellow looked happy and handsome as he 
 chatted away with Rachel. For that matter, so
 
 A BLACK MONDAY. 8i 
 
 did she until she caught sight of Jack, to whom 
 she bowed gravely. He returned the courtesy as 
 coldly as it was given. 
 
 "Morning, Heywood — morning," said Kalph. 
 *' Got a day's holiday ? " 
 
 " Yes," growled Jack, as he gave his cob the 
 spur, and trotted off, half disposed to gallop back 
 to Deepdale there and then. 
 
 But he was young. Besides, he was a York- 
 shireman; so when he heard the yelping of the 
 hounds, and the cry of the " view hallo," — for they 
 had found a fox almost immediately — he galloped 
 back even more quickly than he had left the field. 
 
 There had been a heavy snowfall a few days 
 before, a heavier thaw followed, a flood ensued, 
 and all the rivers in Yorkshire overflowed their 
 banks. The fox knew his ground, and led straight 
 over hill and dale until they reached Blocklesby 
 Ferry, where the Ouse was rushing down south- 
 ward in a foaming torrent. Without hesitation, 
 Eeynard took the stream, the dogs followed, and, 
 despite the strength of the current, made the other 
 side a quarter of a mile lower down in safety. 
 
 VOL. I. a
 
 82 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 Carried away by the examx)le of the fox and the 
 hounds, those who were foremost in the field 
 boarded the ferry-boat, which, in a minute's time, 
 was overcrowded with men and horses. Fortu- 
 nately only one woman was aboard. 
 
 The boat had barely left the shore, when Jack 
 came up on his cob. Irritated at being left behind, 
 he contemplated the departure of the boat with 
 anything but equanimity. There was nothing for 
 it, however, but to await its return. 
 
 As he looked on, impatiently, a terrified horse 
 aboard the boat, which was now in mid river, 
 began to rear, and kick, and plunge. The example 
 w\as contagious ; every horse aboard followed suit. 
 Amidst the yells of the affrighted animals, 
 and the wild cries of their riders, the boat cap- 
 sized, and nian and beast were flung headlong in 
 one screaming, struggling mass into the rushing 
 river. Jack never forgot that scene of horror ; he 
 never can forget it to his dying day. Man after 
 man went down, wildly calling for help ; they rose 
 and sank, and rose and sank again, then drifted 
 down to death. The noise, the struggle, and the
 
 A BLACK MONDAY. 83 
 
 commotion ceased. All was silent ; nothing \Yas 
 to be beard to remind one of this sudden and awful 
 tragedy but the roar of the river, and then — the 
 wild face of a woman emerging from the waste of 
 waters fifty paces lower down. There was but one 
 face in all the world like that, and when Jack 
 Heywood saw it rise, as it were, from death, for a 
 moment his heart stood still ! 
 
 Then he pulled himself together, and with the 
 rapidity of lightning took stock of the situation. 
 A hundred paces still lower down the river 
 described an acute curve, shaped almost like the 
 letter U. This curve somewhat broke and 
 deadened the force of the torrent. 
 
 Keeping his eyes fixed on the fair, pale face, 
 Jack spurred his horse till he reached the bend of 
 the curve, and then, with set teeth and muscles of 
 steel, he pulled up, ready to take the leap on which 
 life or death depended. 
 
 As he looked, the face went down for the second 
 time. 
 
 For the second time! There was still one 
 chance left. At the edge of the curve, it rose for
 
 84 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 the third time. The eyes — the pleading eyes — 
 met his ! 
 
 All depended now upon when and how he should 
 take the leap. A moment too soon, and he would 
 be carried down the river, powerless to help, 
 before her. A moment too late, and he would be 
 behind her. There was a third and worse 
 alternative, he might ride over her. 
 
 At the supreme moment he drew himself 
 together, and the leap was made. 
 
 As she floated by in the last agony, he plucked 
 her by her sunny hair, which fell in great 
 dishevelled masses down her shoulders, flung her 
 across his saddle-bow, and floated safely down the 
 river, until he approached another curve, which 
 enabled him to land in safety with his precious 
 burden. 
 
 She was cold and inanimate as death. Save 
 for the feeble beating of her heart, she might have 
 been dead indeed. He held her in his strong 
 arms — he pressed her to his heart — ho laid her 
 tenderly upon the ground— he chafed her hands — 
 he laid his cheeks to hers — he kissed her brow,
 
 A BLACK MONDAY. 85 
 
 her ej'es, her lips — not with a lover's passion, but 
 with a man's devotion, trying to breathe his own 
 warmth and vitality into her expiring life, all the 
 while beseeching Heaven with tears and prayers 
 to spare her for the sake of those who loved 
 her, and, perchance, a little for his own. 
 
 Surely his prayer was heard and answered ; for 
 — with a shudder which thrilled her from head to 
 foot, quickening her blood into returning life — she 
 opened her eyes, and looked at him. 
 
 " Jack ! " she gasped. That w\as all. 
 
 But that was enough. 
 
 We have lost sight of Ealph, as, indeed, he had 
 lost sight of Pachel half an hour before. The fact 
 w^as, his mare had shied at Thorby Beck, which 
 was sw^ollen like a torrent, while Eachel, Squire 
 Mordaunt, and a dozen others whose blood was 
 up, had taken it flying, from the edge of the 
 cKff. 
 
 Ealph was not alone — for two-thirds of the field 
 shirked the leap, and concluded to make a detour. 
 But Jack had made a way for himself ; and while
 
 86 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 the others were crawling leisurely round to the 
 left, he discovered a narrower arm of the dyke — 
 leaped it — and hence it was that, guided by the 
 hand of Heaven, he had arrived in time to save 
 the life he loved. 
 
 Yes, she was safe — there was no doubt about 
 that. But how to get her to some haven of refuge ? 
 There was no sign of shed or shelter, far as the 
 eye could reach. 
 
 "While she lay shivering on the ground in her 
 wet clothes — to make matters more agreeable, it 
 began to snow. Then he ^Dulled off his coat, and 
 wrapped it round her. If he only had a flask now ; 
 but he carried nothing of the kind. 
 
 The snow thickened — he didn't feel it — for the 
 fever in his heart had set him on fire. 
 
 Leaving his sturdy cob beside her, he ran two 
 or three hundred yards towards one of those stone 
 fences so common in Yorkshire. Leaping atop, 
 he gave the view hallo ! There was no response. 
 Again, and yet again, he shouted — still no 
 reply. 
 
 The snowflakes fell heavier and heavier — the
 
 A BLACK MOXDAV. 87 
 
 grey clouds thickened, and became overcast — until 
 a pall of darkness overshadowed the earth. 
 
 What was to be done ? 
 
 He overleaped the intervening dyke, and ran 
 over a ploughed field, sinking into the sludge, 
 almost knee-deep at every step. Again he leaped 
 the wall — again he shouted. This time, he was 
 answered. He listened with his heart in his 
 mouth. Presently he heard the murmur of distant 
 voices, the galloping of horses. 
 
 At last, ten or a dozen horsemen, with Ealph 
 Hollis at their head, emerged from the mist. 
 "When Jack told them what had happened, a thrill 
 of horror passed through the group, and an awful 
 silence befell as they thought of friends and 
 comrades thus untimely called to their last 
 account. 
 
 While they stood like men transformed to stone. 
 Jack said to Tom Brixholme, the whipper-in, who 
 bestrode a great sorrel mare, " Tom, give us a lift 
 behind thee, lad. While these gentlemen stand 
 gaining here, poor Miss Dene will be perished ; so 
 give the mare her head, and let her up."
 
 88 RACHEL DEXE. 
 
 Even as 1ig spoke, off they went in a gallop, 
 followed by the rest of the field, until they reached 
 the spot where Rachel still lay shivering. 
 
 Dismounting rapidly he knelt beside her, and, 
 raising her tenderly, placed his ear against her 
 bosom. It still palpitated gently; so there was 
 no immediate cause for alarm. 
 
 Up to this moment Ealph had not spoken. 
 
 At last he said, " How can I thank you ? " 
 
 " I don't need your thanks," replied the other. 
 
 Ralph paused for a moment as he made answer. 
 
 " Of course I shall take her home at once." 
 
 " Excuse me," said Jack, " but I shall take care 
 of her this turn. Happen one of you gentlemen 
 may have such a thing as a drop of brandy about 
 you?" 
 
 Half a dozen flasks were instantly placed at his 
 disposal, and when he had succeeded in getting a 
 few drops of the potent spirit down her throat she 
 began to revive. 
 
 There was no conveyance — not even so much as 
 a hurdle — so Jack did not hesitate as to his plan 
 of action.
 
 A BLACK MONDAY. 89 
 
 "Tom Brixholme," said he, "is there e'er a 
 farmhouse nigh ? " 
 
 " Yes, there's Farmer Sparrow's — at Barnolby- 
 le-Beck, about a mile off." 
 
 Lifting Eachel from the ground, Jack continued, 
 " As soon as I'm mounted, give her to me." 
 
 "Eight you are, Jack," repHed the whipper-in. 
 "But first, lad, slip on this coat. It be t' Squire's. 
 I brought it for un, sure. He'll never want it 
 again, poor ge'l'man ! " 
 
 Jack slipped on Squire Mordaunt's coat, sprang 
 astride the cob, and rode leisurely to Barnolby-le- 
 Beck, bearing his treasure in his arms — upon his 
 heart. Poor Ealph felt that his nose was out of 
 joint, and there was nothing for it but to follow 
 and play second fiddle, which he did with a rueful 
 face. There is no use, however, kicking against 
 the pricks, and he had to accept the inevitable. 
 
 When they got to Farmer Sparrow's, the dame 
 and her milking-maid took charge of Eachel. The 
 honest soul stripped the girl of her wet clothing, 
 chafed the frigid limbs, got her to bed, and 
 administered a warm posset.
 
 90 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 As soon as she came to, she inquired, " Where's 
 Jack?" 
 
 " I don't know who Jack is," replied the dame, 
 "but there be two young men downstairs. One 
 carried you here in his arms on horseback; the 
 other is in pink, and raal handsome he is." 
 
 "Prithee tell them to let Grandpapa and Grandma 
 Dene know that I'm all right ; only I'm so sleexDy." 
 
 Five minutes later she was sleeping placidly as 
 an infant. 
 
 While she slept, the two young men rode towards 
 Deepdale together. Ralph smoked incessantly, 
 and stopped at every halfway house to have a nip. 
 It was in vain that he invited Jack to accompany 
 him. The latter had already taken the precaution 
 to fortify himself at Dame Sparrow's with hot 
 coffee and a dish of ham and eggs. Both men 
 were moody and taciturn, and spoke little to each 
 other. 
 
 Upon arriving in the valley, Ealph went to the 
 Vicarage. Jack paused for a moment at the 
 cottage to hurriedly tell Joan and Jasper what 
 had happened, and to ask the old woman to get
 
 A BLACK MONDAY. 91 
 
 some dry clothing ready for him ; then he lacked 
 up Jabez at the mills, and they went to the Oaks 
 together. 
 
 Mrs. Dene and Jacob were much alarmed at 
 Eachel's absence, for it was now getting on for 
 nine o'clock, and they had expected her back to 
 dinner at six. When Jack told them what had 
 happened, Jacob ordered the break out immediately. 
 It was useless for Jack to assure him that there 
 was no further danger. Jacob was impatient of 
 opposition. 
 
 " Thy cob is worn out," he said. " Go to the 
 stable, and take the best nag thou canst find. 
 Take it, and keep it, lad, for this day's work. 
 That'll do ; spare thy speech. Gallop down to the 
 Vicarage. ^Tell parson I'll call for him in half an 
 hour ; and, Jabez, do thou call on Doctor Whitaker, 
 and ask him to make ready to go with us." 
 
 The poor cob was indeed done up ; that struggle 
 in the river, and the ride to Farmer Sparrow's 
 double weighted, and the long ride to Deepdale, 
 had taken the backbone out of him, so Jack was 
 not sorry to give him a rest. But in Jacob's
 
 92 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 stable there was a splendid young chestnut mare 
 called Lucy, which Jack had long admired. 
 
 "While the groom saddled her, Jack gave the cob 
 a rub down ; then he leaped upon the mare, and 
 trotted down to the cottage, where he slipped on 
 his dry clothing, which done, he galloped on to 
 the Vicarage, which he found in a state of con- 
 sternation. 
 
 Almost immediately upon Ralph's arrival he 
 was taken suddenly ill. Whether occasioned by 
 fatigue, anxiety, vexation, or those repeated ''nips" 
 on the way, or all combined, no man may tell. 
 
 Doctor Whitaker had already been sent for. He 
 merely unloosed the young man's neck-cloth, smelt 
 his breath, and shook his head. 
 
 "Is there any danger?" inquired Mrs. Hollis, 
 anxiously. 
 
 " Nothing that a draught of bitter water in the 
 morning will not obviate. For the present, put 
 him to bed, and let him sleep." 
 
 Ten minutes later the Denes, the vicar, the 
 doctor, Jabez, and Rachel's maid were on their 
 way to Barnolby-lc-Beck, accompanied by Jack.
 
 A BLACK MONDAY. 93 
 
 To their inexpressible relief, they found their 
 darling still sleeping soundly — so soundly that the 
 doctor forbore to wake her. 
 
 Then came a difficulty. It was now too late to 
 return to Deepdale. Dame Sparrow was, however, 
 a woman of resources, and beds were improvised 
 here, there, and everywhere, and soon after mid- 
 night the house was at rest. 
 
 Eachel did not awake until about nine o'clock. 
 "When she found her grandmother on one side of 
 the bed, and the maid on the other, she said, 
 " I've been dreaming, grandma, such a strange 
 dream. I thought I was out with the hounds at 
 Brocklesby Ferry ; that the boat was capsized ; 
 that every one was drowned but me; that Jack 
 came and saved me." 
 
 " And so he did, my darling ! It was no dream. 
 The brave lad did save thee, God bless him ! But 
 see, here's Jacob, and Grandpa Lyster, and Doctor 
 "\Yliitaker." 
 
 When the two old men saw their darling, radiant 
 with youth and health, they kissed and caressed 
 her; and at a signal from the vicar, all knelt
 
 g\ /RACHEL DEXE. 
 
 beside the bed and offered up a silent thanksgiving 
 that she had been delivered from the jaws of death. 
 
 By-and-by, when the doctor came and told Jack 
 and Jabez that all the danger was past, the two 
 men shook hands in silence, and while Jabez went 
 to take his morning pipe in the farmyard. Jack 
 went out for a stroll towards the Beck. 
 
 He walked along lazily, with his hands in his 
 pockets, until he was out of sight of the house and 
 its inhabitants. 
 
 Then Master Jack ran a little, he danced a little, 
 he laughed a good deal, then he burst out crying, 
 like a great baby ; but finally he walked quietly 
 back to the farm, softly whistling " The British 
 Grenadiers." When he got to the kitchen, Jabez 
 was sitting down to breakfast. 
 
 " Thou art happy, lad ! " said he. 
 
 "Ay, and hungry, too, Jabez ! " 
 
 Evidently he was, for he polished off his break- 
 fast in fine style.
 
 ( 95 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 RALPH HOLLIS. 
 
 We have compared Ralph Hollis and Jack Heywood 
 to the idle and industrious apprentices immortalized 
 by Hogarth ; but the comparison is, of course, an 
 inadequate one, since the two lads of Deepdale, 
 unlike their prototypes, didn't " start fair." Hollis 
 had all the advantages of birth, blood, education, 
 and refined surroundings ; Heywood had all the 
 disadvantages on the other side. And yet, as we 
 have seen, the poorer lad was rapidly gaining on 
 his social superior. He was recognized on every 
 hand as a clever, industrious fellow, likely to rise 
 to almost any position. He had already invented 
 a mood of economizing labour which might bring 
 him in a fortune ; and, to crown all, he was a hero 
 — he had saved Rachel Dene's life.
 
 96 RACHEL DEXE. 
 
 All this was gall and wormwood to the hand- 
 some son of Mrs. Hollis. To be surpassed in 
 everything by a social inferior, and one his junior 
 by several years, was a constant source of irrita- 
 tion. In his dilemma he turned for help to his 
 mother, who, rendered preternaturally acute by 
 maternal affection, kept her eyes fixed constantly 
 on Eachel Dene, and saw, to her amazement, that 
 Ealph was daily losing ground. True, Eachel 
 liked the young man very well, for he was gay, 
 dashing, and not ungenerous of disposition; but 
 whenever there was a hint of love-making she 
 shielded herself under the grey hood of Quakerdom, 
 and couldn't or wouldn't understand. Attracted 
 as much by her physical beauty as by her fortune, 
 Ealph used all his powers of fascination, which 
 were not very great, seeing that his experience 
 lay chiefly among ladies of lighter disposition. 
 He was quite at home with a handsome barmaid 
 or a mirth-loving mill-girl, but he didn't under- 
 stand the waj's of pure and cultivated women. 
 
 The mother and son, like many who love each 
 other much, wrangled a good deal over this and
 
 RALPH MOLLIS. 97 
 
 other subjects. Mrs. Hollis was proud and im- 
 perious ; Ralph irritable and indolent ; and some- 
 times they came to such high words that they 
 hardly spoke afterwards for days together. Then 
 Ealph would drive over to Barford to dine with 
 the officers of the Forty-First, his father's old 
 regiment ; there would be cards, and dice, and 
 billiards, and other amusements popular among 
 such young gentlemen, and our idle apprentice 
 would ride back to the counting-house with an 
 aching head and an empty pocket, to go through 
 the disagreeable drudgery of earning his daily 
 bread. Over and over again, however, he had to 
 appeal to his mother to help him out of his diffi- 
 culties, and in doing so she got into difficulties 
 herself. Still, it was for her darling's sake ; and, 
 as the young scapegrace constantly promised 
 amendment, the poor, fond mother helped him, 
 and prayed for better days. 
 
 There was one consolation — Ralph was the next- 
 of-kin to an earldom. How fervently, amidst his 
 pecuniary and other troubles, he prayed that his 
 titled relative might remain a bachelor, and die at 
 
 VOL. I, H
 
 98 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 as early an opportunity as was convenient and 
 possible. 
 
 More than once Jacob Dene lectured the young 
 man on bis conduct. One day, wbcn Ealph 
 returned from a nigbt's orgy just in time to get to 
 his desk in tbc morning, the old Quaker sent for 
 bim, and tbus addressed bim : " Tbou art no 
 flesb and blood of mine, Ealpb Hollis, but I am 
 sorry to see tby mother's son going so fast 
 downhill to the place tbou knowcst. Tbou wast 
 at Barford last night, and rode over at da}^- 
 break?" 
 
 Ralph, who looked pale and wretched, and 
 felt desperately ill and uncomfortable, forced a 
 laugh. 
 
 "A friend was going away. We gave him a 
 little dinner, and kept it up rather late." 
 
 " Who was thy friend ? " 
 
 " Mr. Ilarkaway, of the Forty-First. His father 
 and mine were intimately acquainted. I hope, Mr. 
 Dene, you don't find me inattentive to my duties ? 
 I do my best, but the fact is, you know, I haven't 
 much of a head for business."
 
 RALPH MOLLIS. 99 
 
 "Nay," said Jacob Dene, dryly; "thou likcst 
 card-playing and folly better than honest \Yorlv. 
 Hast thou ever reflected, man, what it means to 
 thee and thy mother ? " 
 
 Ealph shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " You see, I wasn't born for this sort of 
 thing," he muttered, biting his lips, and scowling 
 moodily. 
 
 " Born to be hung, maybe ! " cried the Quaker, 
 sharply. " What dost thou call thyself ? " 
 
 " A gentleman, I suppose." 
 
 " I know a better word — a ne'er-do-well. Take 
 warning and example ! There's a lad in these mills 
 who might teach thee, if thou art capable of 
 learning a lesson." 
 
 " I suppose you mean young Heywood," returned 
 Ealph. " I know, sir, he's your favourite, but 
 allow me to say that a gentleman does not take 
 example by his social inferiors." 
 
 " Thou art a jackanapes ! " cried Jacob, angrily. 
 " I have a mind to send thee packing ! If it were 
 not for thy mother's sake " 
 
 " Pray don't mind her ! " returned Ralph, hotly.
 
 100 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 for he was in the humour for a quarrel. " I can 
 go, sh', whenever you Hke. I dare say I can pick 
 up a living somehow and somewhere." 
 
 And he flounced out of his master's room, and 
 returned to his place in the counting-house. He 
 was sick of the whole business, and did not care, 
 for the moment, what might happen. In his 
 irritation and anger, he forgot altogether about 
 Eachel. When he recovered his temper, he re- 
 gretted his hasty words on her account, and felt 
 half-inclined to apologize. However, he was too 
 proud for that. 
 
 But Jacob Dene made no further sign, beyond 
 talking over matters with Mrs. Hollis, and begging 
 her to use her influence towards the young man's 
 reformation, which she tearfully promised to do. 
 A few evenings later, when Ealph had finished his 
 dinner, and sat by the fire in the vicar's sanctum 
 reading a sporting newspaper, she came in and 
 sat down opposite her son. The vicar was out on 
 a sick call, and they were quite alone. 
 
 She did not speak for some time, but sat with 
 her eyes fixed on the fire.
 
 RALPH HOLLLS. loi 
 
 At last she said quietly, " Have you seen Rachel 
 to-day ? " 
 
 *' No," he rexDiied, over his newsxDaper. 
 
 " She called this afternoon." 
 
 " Humx^h ! " muttered the young man, carelessly. 
 
 Another silence. It was clear that Ealx^h was 
 X^rexmred for a lecture, for without looking ux? he 
 continued to read his newsx)ax)er with a scowl. 
 
 "Put down that x^ax^er and talk to me," said 
 Mrs. Hollis. Ealx^h hesitated a moment, then 
 threw the journal aside. 
 
 " What's the matter now ? " he exclaimed. 
 
 "I want to speak to you about yourself, and 
 about Eachel." 
 
 " Well, mother ? " 
 
 " You are behaving very foolishly and very 
 badly. Mr. Dene is right." 
 
 " Oh, he has been sounding my x^raises ! " cried 
 Ealx^h. " Old humbug ! I gave him a bit of my 
 mind the other day when he began x^reaching to 
 me down at the mills. He thinks me a fool, but 
 he's mistaken." 
 
 " I'm afraid he's right," returned Mrs. Hollis.
 
 I02 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 *' Thank you ! " 
 
 "He complains, and justl}', that you neglect 
 your duties, and keep bad company." 
 
 "I keep company with gentlemen, which is 
 more than he has ever done. Mother," he added 
 hotly, " I'm sick of it all. I was never meant to 
 be chained to a desk, or to pore over figures in a 
 ledger. I'm determined to cut it as soon as 
 possible." 
 
 "And Eachel?" asked Mrs. Hollis, coldly. 
 
 " Eachel is as bad as her grandfather. She 
 never cared for me, and never will. Why should 
 I keep on dangling at the heels of a methodistical 
 flirt ? Why should I humiliate myself by following 
 a girl like that?" 
 
 "It is your own fault if you have not won her 
 heart," said the lady. " You have had every 
 chance, yet you let her go without an effort. You 
 waste half your time with the men at Barford, and 
 while you are playing cards and billiards, young 
 Ileywood, who has not a tithe of your gifts, is 
 gaining every day in her esteem." 
 
 " Nice taste that ! " sneered Ealph. " A common
 
 RALPH MOLLIS. 103 
 
 mechanic ! A fellow who can't speak decent 
 English ! " 
 
 " He's not so bad as that ; though, of course, 
 he is not a gentleman. Eemember, however, that 
 Jacob Dene himself belongs to the people, and so, 
 for that matter, does Eachel herself." 
 
 Ealph rose impatiently, and stood with his back 
 to the fire, looking angrily at his mother. 
 
 " Let Eachel take the fellow, and welcome. I 
 am sick of humouring her human fancies ! " 
 
 "You know you love her, so don't talk so 
 absurdlj^" said Mrs. Holhs. '* Oh, Ealph, do look 
 at the matter seriously. You are ruining your 
 own prospects and breaking my heart ! " 
 
 And the proud woman hung her head, while the 
 fast-streaming tears ran down her cheeks. 
 
 With all his faults, Ealph loved his mother. 
 She was the only living being, indeed, who in- 
 spired in him either deep respect or strong affec- 
 tion ; so her grief moved him, and, bending over 
 her, he asked her forgiveness. 
 
 " But you know, mother," he said, " I cannot 
 bear the life I am leading. I ouciht to have been
 
 lo; RACHEL DENE. 
 
 a soldier, like my father. After all, that's the only 
 life fit for a man ! " 
 
 In his secret heart Ealph was thinking more of 
 the amusements and dissipations of military life 
 than of its dangers and glories ; hut the fond 
 mother looked at him in sudden pride, and thought, 
 with a sigh, how closely he resembled his dead 
 father. 
 
 "I wish it could have been," she said. "My 
 boy, you must be patient ; perhaps some day our 
 fortunes may change, and then " 
 
 She did not finish the sentence, but he under- 
 stood her. Both were thinking of the one life 
 which stood between Ealph Hollis and an earldom. 
 Little did Mrs. Hollis know that, even in that 
 faint expectation of the succession — faint because 
 the present Earl was strong and hale, and might 
 marry any day — the young man had already 
 speculated largely. He was, in fact, far deeper in 
 the mire of difficulties than any one suspected. 
 That very morning a writ had been served upon 
 him in the streets of Deepdale. He had got among 
 a bad set, and in order to keep pace with its
 
 RALPH MOLLIS. 105 
 
 members be bad used every device to raise money. 
 His motber's resources were, as be knew, ex- 
 bausted ; bis own were unsubstantial as tbin air, 
 for tbe small sum be received for bis work at tbe 
 mills would bave scarcely sufficed to pay bis tailor's 
 bill.
 
 io6 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 A FOREWARNING. 
 
 That business at Brocklesby Ferry was a bad 
 day's work for Ralph Hollis. 
 
 He was thankful, however, that it was no worse. 
 Had he been beside Rachel at the critical moment, 
 he might have been unable to restrain her from 
 going on board the boat. Of course, he would 
 have gone with her ; then, in sporting phraseology, 
 the odds were ten to one that he would have been 
 drowned with the rest. On the other hand, had 
 he come up with Jack, both would have certainly 
 jumped into the river together in the endeavour 
 to save her; and perhaps while the rivals were 
 struggling for the honour of rescuing her, they 
 would all three have perished. Of course, it was 
 not Ralph's fault that his marc shied at Thorby
 
 A FOREWARNING. 107 
 
 Beck, but it was his misfortune. It left him out 
 of the hunt, and gave Jack a chance which might 
 never occur again in his Hfetime. 
 
 Then there was that confounded brandy, of 
 which he had taken enough, and to spare. Yes, 
 he reflected; it was a bad day's work for him. 
 
 However that might be, that Bhick Monday 
 could never be blotted out ; and no one knew it 
 better than Ealph himself — that is, when he icas 
 himself. At times he would be resolute, and never 
 touch alcohol for weeks together. Then a moment 
 of weakness or temptation occurred, and away 
 went his virtuous resolves like a handful of thistle- 
 down before the wind. So long as he was under 
 the influence of his mother he was right enough ; 
 but he could not always be tied to her apron- 
 strings, and when once he got among his military 
 and racing friends, good-bye to prudence and 
 common sense. 
 
 His extravagance had involved Mrs. Hollis in 
 continual difficulties. So long as her father- 
 in-law lived she got a little help occasionally ; 
 but he had been deceased for nearly a year,
 
 loS RACHEL DENE. 
 
 and her brother - in - law, the new Earl, had 
 refused to give her a shilHng. It was, however, 
 almost a certainty that Ealph would inherit the 
 earldom at some distant period, which was some- 
 thing to look forward to. If the lad would only 
 keep steady, and if that match could be brought 
 
 about with Eachel But, then, if it could 
 
 not? 
 
 He had set his heart upon her, and the thought 
 of losing her seemed beyond the bare pale of 
 possibility. Still, he could not help fancying that 
 she had never been the same to him since the day 
 at the ferry. He noted, too, with growing im- 
 patience and irritation, that Jack was a frequent 
 guest at the Oaks, that he had taken to di-essing 
 in a more civilized manner, that he had even 
 taken to lawn-tennis, and that he was a deft and 
 dangerous opponent in that, or any other game 
 in which skill, or strength, or courage were 
 necessary. 
 
 Now Ealph had so long taught himself to believe 
 that Eachel was to be his wife, that the bare idea 
 of any other man coming between them appeared
 
 A FOREWARNING. 109 
 
 an outrage. That a mere ordinary operative — a 
 vulgar mechanic — should dare to aspire to Eachel 
 — his bright and beautiful Eachel — was not to be 
 thought of. 
 
 But Jack was not an " ordinary " operative — on 
 the contrary, he was a very extraordinary one ; 
 and, though a mechanic, he was by no means a 
 vulgarian. Moreover, he was now in a fair way to 
 become a rich man. 
 
 They met daily at the mills, and though not 
 particularly cordial, were always civil to each 
 other. The proverb is as true as it is trite, that 
 " lookers on see most of the game ; " and Jabez 
 saw with increasing anxiet}^, that distrust was 
 ripening into dislike between these two young 
 men. 
 
 As for the innocent cause of this contention, she 
 scarcely knew her own heart, or, if she did, she 
 did not care to scrutinize it too closely. She was 
 really always glad to see Ealph — that is, when he 
 was not too pressing in his attentions. On the 
 other hand, she was grateful to Jack Heywood for 
 having saved her life — and perhaps a little more
 
 Tio RACHEL DEXE. 
 
 than pleased to see evidences of some attempt at 
 refinement in his manners and demeanour. 
 
 Time passed on, and the great invention, though 
 it scarcely justified its title, proved so far satisfac- 
 tory, that it was adopted, with certain modifications, 
 in the Decpdale ]\[ills ; and before Jack Heywood 
 attained his majority, he found himself foreman of 
 the department in -which the machine was used, 
 and in the receipt of a handsome income. This 
 increased prosperity made no difference in his 
 domestic habits. He continued to live at the 
 cottage with the old people. 
 
 "Didna I allays say it ! " Joan would constantly 
 exclaim. " Thou wast born to be a gentleman, 
 and some day, lad, thou'lt be master o' t' mill 
 itself." 
 
 Jack would laugh, and blush, and look at himself 
 in the glass, and think, very possibly, that the 
 old woman was not far wrong. One thing, how- 
 ever, marred the completeness of his self-satisfac- 
 tion. His new pride and happiness seemed to 
 make no favourable impression on Jabez Pryke. 
 
 One day, therefore, ho spoke out to Jabez. It
 
 A FOREWARNING. in 
 
 was just after the dinner hour, and they were 
 walking back to the mills together — he with a 
 rose in the button-hole of his oflice-suit, Jabez in 
 all the picturesque shabbiness of his working 
 clothes. 
 
 "What ails you, Jabez?" he asked. "You 
 seem changed a bit from old times. Sometimes I 
 fancy you're sorry to know of my good luck." 
 
 The overseer stopped short, and looked at him 
 quietly with his gentle, patient eyes — eyes so full 
 of introspection, that they seemed to suffer from 
 the tender light they shed upon him. Then he 
 laid his hand upon the young man's shoulder. 
 
 "It's just this, lad," he rexDlied. "I'm reet 
 glad o' your good luck, and proud o't into the 
 bargain ; but I'm troubled whiles i' my own mind 
 about what's to come o't. 'Tain't allays the best 
 or the cleverest colt as wins t' race, and 'twould be 
 a bad look-out if t' luck were to turn thy head." 
 
 "What d'ye mean?" cried the lad, flushing 
 angrily. 
 
 "I mean naut but what I say. Jack. T' luck, 
 maybe, has come too quick to last. You're nobbut
 
 112 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 a boy, and you're reckoning the race o'er far 
 ahead." 
 
 '' How d'ye know that ? I do my work and bide 
 my time, and Master Dene has promised to helj) 
 me along." 
 
 ** That's reet enough," said the overseer. " But 
 he'll ne'er help thee to Miss Eachel, if that's i' thy 
 mind. T' master's proud, and he has the right to 
 be proud ; but he's a great man, lad, and try thy 
 best, you're nobbut one of the people. Blood's 
 thicker nor water, as t' saying is." 
 
 The lad looked angrily at the speaker, who 
 continued quietly. 
 
 " But 'tis not that I were thinking o' altogether. 
 You're gotten beyond us hardworking folk, and 
 hankering after fine company. Up at Barford, 
 holiday times, you spend your brass wi' swells. 
 Last Leger, you went into t' ring, and lost money 
 on t' favourite." 
 
 •'Oh, that's it, is it?" said Jack, laughing, and 
 looking a little relieved. " You think I'm going 
 to the bad because I bet a bit, and like to enjoy 
 myself once or twice a-year. Why, man, you love
 
 A FOREWARNING. 113 
 
 a horse as much as I do, and have staked thy 
 brass many a time ! " 
 
 "No doubt, lad; but I ha' done it sober. Last 
 week a lad I know drove home fro' Barford i' 
 Captain Fitzherbert's dog-cart, and when he got 
 home he could scarce stand straight upon his 
 legs." 
 
 " I wasn't drunk ! " cried Jack, indignantly. " I 
 was never drunk in my life. I'd only a glass or 
 two with the Captain." 
 
 "You never used to touch it, lad," returned 
 Jabez. "I wish I could persuade thee to take t' 
 pledge." 
 
 "Not such a fool! You can't say that I ever 
 neglect my work, or forget my duty. Now, can 
 you ? " 
 
 " Nay, lad, nay ; but look at Mr. Ealph, and 
 see what the liquor is doing for him. He's going 
 downhill fast, and my heart turns cold when I 
 think that a lad I love better may follow i' his 
 footsteps." 
 
 " No fear of that," said Jack. " He's an idle 
 beggar; and no man can ever call me that. Come, 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 114 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 Jabez, be fair — do mo justice, old man ! You used 
 to trust me and believe in me." 
 
 " And so I do now. I'd cut off m}' reet hand, 
 lad, to keep you reet and square." 
 
 The two parted, each repairing to his particular 
 
 part of the works. Jack was angry in his heart, 
 
 and felt very much aggrieved. He felt that he 
 
 had scarcely laid himself open to such a warning, 
 
 for, beyond the taste for horseflesh of which we 
 
 have spoken, he had few weaknesses and no vices. 
 
 What irritated him most of all, however, was his 
 
 old friend's insinuation, rather conveyed than 
 
 spoken, that he was becoming too ambitious, and 
 
 that his ambition was hopeless as well as dangerous. 
 
 He had made up his mind to be a gentleman ; and 
 
 sometimes, if the truth must be sj)oken, he felt a 
 
 little ashamed of his friends and belongings. "Why 
 
 were his birth and his position to be for ever used 
 
 as silent arguments against him? His thoughts 
 
 reverted, as of old, to Arkwright and to Stephenson, 
 
 and to other men who had risen from the ranks to 
 
 wealth and honour, and he felt indignant at his 
 
 foster-father's want of faith.
 
 A FOREIVARXING. 115 
 
 Jabez was right, however. Guided by the 
 instinct of unselfish affection, he perceived whither 
 the lad was drifting. Success had intoxicated 
 Jack Hejwood. Though hardworking and stead- 
 fast-hearted as ever, he thought more of ^Dleasure 
 and less of honest work.
 
 Il6 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE FEAST OF ST. LEGER. 
 
 The great Yorkshire carnival came on again. 
 Saint Leger was holding sovereign sway and 
 masterdom on the Moor at Doncaster. 
 
 The mill hands had knocked off, and gone in 
 thousands by a special train. Everybody in Deep- 
 dale had gone except Joan and Jasper Heywood, 
 whose knee was as big as his head with a sudden 
 and violent attack of rheumatism, so his wife 
 stayed at home to nurse him. Though Jacob 
 Dene was a Quaker, a Quaker is still a man — 
 especially a Yorkshire Quaker, when there is a 
 horse in the way — and he accompanied his wife 
 and granddaughter to Doncaster. Mr. Lyster, 
 too, escorted Mrs. Hollis ; Ealph Ilollis went 
 with his friends, Captain Fitzherbert and other
 
 THE FEAST OF ST. LEGER. 117 
 
 plungers of the Forty-First from Barford ; while 
 Jack and Jabez drove over together to catch 
 the train at Barnolby .Junction. Jabez was for 
 staying at home, but, seeing that Jack was bent 
 on going, he determined to accompany him. 
 
 What a scene it was, to be sure, when they 
 got to Doncaster ! Train after train disgorged its. 
 thousands. The High Street was crowded — 
 almost impassable. But the scene at the moor 
 itself baffles description. Life, colour, gaiety, 
 animation were everywhere ; and as for the crowd, 
 that could only be calculated by hundreds of 
 thousands. 
 
 A dozen different dialects of Yorkshire, con- 
 tended for mastery with our own beloved Cockney 
 — with Scotch, with Irish, with French, with 
 German, and with shrill American. 
 
 The Denes, Eachel, Mr. Lystcr, and Mrs. 
 Hollis were in the front of the Grand Stand, which 
 was thickly packed with human beings. Save for 
 the fact that a Yorkshire horse was the first 
 favourite, our friends had no interest beyond 
 seeing the glorious strife for victory, and certainly
 
 Ii8 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 they bad nothing in common ^ith the gentry 
 below, amongst whom Ealpb HoUis and bis 
 friends were Lvisy Lacliing the favourite against 
 the field. 
 
 Hitherto, upon all former occasions, Jack and 
 Jabez bad been content to gaze upon the race from 
 the outer fringe ; to-day they bad sprung a point, 
 and paid their guinea apiece to enter the charmed 
 circle, where they encountered Ealpb, Fitzberbert, 
 and his friends. 
 
 Jabez felt ill-at-ease in such fashionable 
 society ; so be made his way alone to the Stand. 
 The plungers were civil to Jack, and Ealpb gladly 
 took him under bis wing, simply to keep him away 
 from Eacbel. 
 
 It was a delightful day, and Jack enjoyed the 
 races. It was pleasant to be in the thick of the 
 dazzling scene be had heretofore contemplated 
 at a distance — to be in the paddock, and to rub 
 shoulders with all the great people — especially to 
 be introduced to the famous Jockey, with whom 
 princes and dukes hobnobbed. 
 
 By-and-by there was a hastily improvised
 
 THE FEAST OF ST. LEGER. 119 
 
 luncheon, washed down by champagne ; and after 
 that, a rough-and-ready race inaugurated the day's 
 carnival. Jack didn't think much of that ; but 
 after it came more champagne with cigars, and 
 soda and brandies to follow. Then another descent 
 into the ring ; then another raid upon the refresh- 
 ment-room, more stimulants, and more cigars — a 
 great deal more of them all than was good for Jack 
 Heywood. 
 
 Ealph and his friends were seasoned vessels. 
 Jack was unused to the process, and it began to 
 take effect. 
 
 Back once more into the ring— back amongst a 
 mob of howling ruffians, with books and pencils in 
 their hands, and blasphemy in their mouths. To 
 hear these fellows roar at each other, one would 
 think Bedlam had broken loose amid a menagerie 
 of wild beasts. 
 
 Bright and handsome, full of life and excitement, 
 Jack pushed his way through the ring. Looking 
 up towards the Grand Stand, he saw the eyes of 
 riachcl fixed upon him, and smiling merril}', he 
 lifted his hat. At that moment he felt a hand
 
 I20 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 upon his shoulder, and turning quickly, saw his 
 foster-father. 
 
 "Come away out o' this, lad," said Jabez ; 
 " 'tis no fit place for a decent lad. Let's gang 
 home." 
 
 " Gang home ! " echoed Jack, with a laugh, " and 
 before the sport has half begun ? Nay, not I ! 
 Come along to the bar, and have a drink." 
 
 Jabez shook his head. 
 
 " Thou'st been tasting already. Jack. Remem- 
 ber what I told you, and tak' no more. If you 
 won't gang home, at least, come and speak to 
 Miss Eachel. See, lad, she's beckoning fro' t' 
 Grand Stand." 
 
 Jack looked up again. Eachel was indeed 
 beckoning, and, it seemed, to him. He took his 
 friend's arm and pushed his way out of the ring ; 
 made the best of his way until he came close to 
 the group from Deepdale. 
 
 " I hope thou art not wagering thy money, lad," 
 said Jacob. " Betting is a bad business, and 
 unworthy of a decent man." 
 
 " I am only looking on, sir," answered Jack.
 
 THE FEAST OF ST. LEGER. I2l 
 
 *' Isn't it splendid ? They say the Yorkshire 
 favourite is to win." 
 
 Then he leant over and talked to Eachel. 
 Warmed with a glass or two of wine, he felt quite 
 at his ease and familiar. As he laughed and 
 chatted, the girl looked at him in some surprise. 
 Glancing from his flushed, excited face, she met 
 the sad, wistful eyes of Jahez Pryke. 
 
 While this scene was taking place, two men 
 stood watching it from the ring. One was Ealph 
 Hollis ; the other was his friend and boon 
 companion. Captain FitzherLert, a man nearly 
 ten years his senior, seasoned in all kinds of 
 dissipation, and a thorough "plunger" by habit 
 as well as disposition. The Captain was thick-set 
 and strongly built, with a high-coloured com- 
 plexion, a black moustache, black hair, a little 
 thin at the top, and a coarse, determined mouth. 
 He was dressed in the height of fashion, sported a 
 white hat, and was literally covered with jewellery. 
 
 "Look there, Fitz," said Ealph, in a voice thick 
 with drink ; " that infernal workman again talking 
 to Miss Dene ! They're whispering under the old
 
 122 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 Quaker's very nose. Ever since the fellow saved 
 her life she has treated him as if he -were a 
 gentleman and an equal, though, at the best, he's 
 only a confounded mechanic, working with his 
 hands," 
 
 "Jealous, eh?" returned the Captain, with a 
 laugh. " Gad, you've reason ! Saved her life, 
 did he ? Ah, yes ; I remember. You missed your 
 best chance there, Ralph, my boy. Women like 
 fellows of that sort, you know. Saved a woman's 
 life myself out in India — widow woman — and, by 
 George ! she proposed to me on the spot. But 
 Fitz didn't see it — oh, dear, no ! " 
 
 Quite unconscious of Palph's baleful gaze upon 
 them. Jack and Eachel continued to converse in 
 whispers. Never had the maiden seemed so 
 gracious, never had the young inventor looked so 
 happy. 
 
 "D n them! " muttered Ealph llollis. 
 
 "Certainly," said Fitzherbert. "But come 
 along, and have a drink, and leave them alone; 
 — your rival's first favourite, and you're 
 scratched!"
 
 THE FEAST OF ST. LEGER. 123 
 
 " Am I ? " cried the young man, M^ith a savage 
 oath. "We'll see about that ! Fitz, the old man 
 hates me, and encourages this fellow ! Only 
 yesterday he took me aside and asked me to take 
 example by young Heywood. Fancy that ! Take 
 example by a common mechanic ! " 
 
 " Humph ! An ^/icommon mechanic, I should 
 say. I rather like the lad." 
 
 " And I hate him ! There, they're shaking 
 hands, and he's coming back to the ring. Listen 
 to me, Fitz ! It's a matter of life or death to me 
 now to put things right with Eachel, and this clod 
 is the only human being in my way." 
 
 They walked away together, eagerly conversing. 
 Meantime, Jack Heywood, hurrying from Eachel's 
 side, drifted away with the crowd. His excitement 
 had increased tenfold by the reception he had met 
 with from the Denes. His face was radiant ; he 
 could have leapt in the air. Laughing gaily, he 
 pushed his way through the throng, again entered 
 the ring, and at last came face to face with Ealph 
 Hollis and Fitzherbert. 
 
 " Ah, Heywood," cried Ralph, smiling. ** Better
 
 124 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 fun than the mills, eh ? Come and liquor 
 up." 
 
 "No, thank you," said the lad, hesitating. "I 
 promised Miss Dene " 
 
 But Ealph Hollis took one arm, and Fitzherbert 
 took the other. As they did so, they exchanged a 
 significant glance. 
 
 "Just one glass!" said the Captain. "Come, 
 we'll toast the great invention." 
 
 Bewildered and excited, Jack suffered himself 
 to be led away. His pride was flattered ; he felt 
 himself a gentleman among gentlemen ; and, to 
 speak the truth, he was pleased to be in such fine 
 company. He glanced round, and saw no sign of 
 Jabez, his self-appointed mentor; then, with a 
 laugh, he accompanied his friends to the refresh- 
 ment-room. 
 
 Fitzherbert called for champagne. "When the 
 bottle was opened, he and Ralph took care to 
 let Jack have the lion's share. Then, the lad, not 
 to be outdone, insisted on ordering and paying for 
 another bottle. Had he been a little sharper- 
 sighted and more suspicious, he might have
 
 THE FEAST OF ST. LEGER. 125 
 
 observed that his companions, always exchanging 
 looks of meaning, spilt the greater part of their 
 wine upon the grass. 
 
 Jack was no tippler ; a little wine affected him ; 
 and by this time he had drunk a large quantity. 
 He began to talk loudly, and to clap Fitzherbert 
 on the shoulder as he sallied back into the ring. 
 
 Above the Babel of sounds could be heard, 
 "Two to one, bar one!" and "Fifty to one 
 against the favourite ! " 
 
 Jack believed in the Yorkshire horse — belief was 
 loyalty to his native county. He yielded to the 
 temptation, and, despite Mr. Dene's warning, 
 began to bet. Unluckily, he had five-and-twenty 
 pounds about him. He backed the favourite 
 against the field, with the result that he lost 
 his money. 
 
 Ealph Hollis, too, was betting furiously, and 
 losing — indeed, scarcely knew himself what he 
 had lost. He only knew one thing — that three 
 weeks ago he had borrowed two hundred pounds 
 from Fitzherbert, and that he had solemnly pro- 
 mised to pay him the day after the Leger ; and,
 
 126 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 amidst the riot, the confasiou, aucl the pande- 
 monium, he remembered that if this and other 
 moneys were not paid on settling-day, disgrace, 
 ruin, and all the rest of it might follow. But, in 
 the midst of all his excitement, he still kept his 
 eyes fixed on Jack Hcywood. His plan had suc- 
 ceeded to admiration. The drink, and the excite- 
 ment, and the loss had been too much for the 
 young workman. By this time he was quite drunk, 
 and very quarrelsome. 
 
 He had parted with his five-and-twenty pounds 
 like a man, but the bookmaker insisted that he 
 owed five-and-twenty pounds more, which, indeed, 
 he did, through some bungling in his betting. 
 
 At this moment Jabez came up. 
 
 When he saw the state of affairs he was ashamed, 
 and, indeed, a little angered, to see his boy in so 
 shameful a condition. 
 
 "Jabez, old man," cried Jack, clutching his arm, 
 "lend me five-and-twenty pounds." 
 
 In his intoxication he fell back into broad 
 Yorkshire. 
 
 "What for ?" asked Jabez.
 
 THE FEAST OF ST. LEGER. 1:7 
 
 ** Why, 3'on dog-faced reshil says I owe it him, 
 so shell out t' brass." 
 
 "My lad, I cannot. I havena got it." 
 
 ** What ! " cried the lad ; " art tkoii gone back 
 on me ? Pretty chap thou art to stand by a friend 
 in a hoyle ! Hang such friends ! Get out for an 
 owd humbug ! " 
 
 The unhappy lad had indeed " put an enemy 
 into his mouth to steal away his brains," and he 
 let forth a flood of abuse upon his friend and more 
 than father. The plungers quite enjoyed the 
 scene, and added fuel to the fire by some not par- 
 ticularly elegant chaff. The bookmaker alleged 
 that he did not know Jack, and demanded that he 
 should immediately " pay up." 
 
 Jabez demurred ; the bookmaker swore that 
 both Jack and his friend were " nobbut, more or 
 less, nor a pair 0' welshers " — words of direful 
 omen to a Yorkshireman. No sooner was it out of 
 his lips than the bookmaker was on his back, while 
 Jack strode over him, and requested him to get up 
 to be knocked down again. 
 
 The betting-man responded like a gamecock.
 
 128 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 He was u^) in an instant, and going for Jack. 
 They rushed at each other like a pair of tigers, 
 amidst yells of encouragement from the by- 
 standers. 
 
 At the height of this scandalous scene, the 
 Denes, and Eachel, Mr. Lyster, and Mrs. Hollis, 
 appeared, passing from the Grand Stand above. 
 As Jack caught sight of them — above all, when 
 he caught sight of Eachel's eyes — her look of 
 astonishment and disgust struck him with a 
 sudden shock of pain. She scarcely paused a 
 moment in passing ; the next, she was gone ; but 
 she had seen it all. 
 
 As she passed forth, he said to the bookmaker, 
 " Hold hard. There's my watch ; it's worth nearly 
 all thy brass. I'll send t' rest to-morrow." 
 
 *'Nay, lad," replied the betting-man; "I'm 
 sure thou art a pluck'd un, and we Sheffield 
 grinders allays like a mon better after we've fowt 
 un. My name's Tom Yondal ; I'm to be found i' t' 
 Pot Market, Sheffield, any time." 
 
 Jack was angered with Eachel, with Ralph, with 
 the bookmaker, with everybody — above all, with
 
 THE FEAST OF ST. LEGER. 129 
 
 Jabez. Had Jabez only lent him that twenty-five 
 pounds, this calamity would not have occurred. 
 "With the unreasoning fury of an unaccustomed 
 drunkard, he blamed every cause but the right 
 one. As he reeled along, elbowing his way through 
 the crowd to the railway-station, his demeanour 
 was so strange and wild as to attract universal 
 attention. He was so aggressive and pugnacious, 
 that had it not been for Jabez he would have 
 reached the police-station instead of the railway- 
 station. When at last, however, he got there, he 
 dragged Jabez into the refreshment-room, made a 
 grab at a bottle of champagne, dropped it, and 
 smashed it to pieces. 
 
 Then he snatched another, and knocked the 
 neck off it, cutting his hand in the operation. 
 Some of the Deepdale lads were there, and he 
 invited them to join him. 
 
 " Sup, lads, sup. Now, lass," he continued, 
 " serve out some brandy and soda — lots of it. 
 That's your sort ! " 
 
 Finding it useless to attempt to restrain him, 
 Jabez w^ent to see if he could find the statiou- 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 I30 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 master to induce him to reserve a compartment, 
 so as to get the wretcbed lad home without further 
 mischief. While bent on this errand, he came 
 in contact with Jacob Dene, the vicar, and the 
 ladies. 
 
 There was no disguising from them the state of 
 affairs; therefore, addressing his employer, Jabez 
 said, " I've nowt to say for t' poor lad, save that 
 he's had more than is good for un, and that it has 
 been given to un by them as owt to know better. 
 He's ne'er bin so afore, and please God'll ne'er be 
 so agin. He's not only drunk, but mad — does na 
 know what he's sayin' or doiu'. Unless I can get 
 him home, there'll be some mischief done. Please, 
 Mr. Dene, gie us a good word wi' station-master to 
 get t' lad in by hissen somewhere, if it be only in 
 a horse-box." 
 
 Angered as Jacob was, his regard for Jabez was 
 so great, that he assented to his wishes, and, at 
 his request, the station-master was induced, with 
 some difiSculty, to reserve a second-class compart- 
 ment for Jabez, Jack, and half a dozen Deepdale 
 lads.
 
 THE FEAST OF ST. LEGER. 131 
 
 A very bad time tbey bad of it until tbey got to 
 Barnolby Junction. Jack quarrelled witb every- 
 body in general, but witb Jabez in particular. 
 Once, indeed, be threatened to tbrow bim out 
 of tbe window. Drink bad cbanged tbis genial, 
 gentle, lovable creature from a man into a wild 
 beast. 
 
 At last, bis drunken fury wore itself out for tbe 
 time, and be fell into a stertorous sleep, wbicb for- 
 tunately lasted until tbey got to Barnolby Junction. 
 Tben Jabez drove bim down to tbe mills, for be 
 could not bear tbat Joan sbould see tbe lad in so 
 sorry a condition. 
 
 Meantime, young Hollis was being driven bome 
 from Barford by Fitzberbert in a bigb dog-cart 
 belonging to tbe Captain. Both were well warmed 
 with wine, and not a little excited, for Ealph bad 
 lost large sums tbat day, and Fitzberbert was 
 clamorous for his money. 
 
 "Make your mind easy," Ealph said; "I can 
 get the money, and I'll pay you. After all, this is 
 a good day's work for mc." 
 
 " How's that ? " growled tbe officer.
 
 132 RACHEL DEXE. 
 
 " We doctored the favourite nicely ! Eachel 
 and the old man saw it all. I don't think that 
 young cub will be backed for a place again." 
 
 Fitzherbert deposited his friend at the outskirts 
 of Deepdale, and then turned his horse's head 
 back towards Barford. It was now quite dark, and 
 not a sound broke the stillness of the night. 
 
 " About that money ? " asked the Captain. 
 
 '• You shall have it. I'll come over to-morrow." 
 
 The Captain nodded, and drove rapidly away. 
 Ealph HoUis walked on through the darkness in 
 the direction of the mill.
 
 ( ^33 ) 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 AFTER THE LEGER. 
 
 For some years past Jabez had resided per- 
 manently at the mills. He had a small living- 
 room in the front or main building, and imme- 
 diately above the cashier's office. Here every 
 night he slept solitary and alone, ready for any 
 emergency which might occur. From his high 
 window could be seen, across a huge quadrangle, 
 the factories, the engine-rooms, and the great 
 warehouses in the rear. It was a lonely place by 
 night, and the overseer's life was lonely ; but 
 Jabez Pryke, though he cared nothing for books, 
 had constant company in his own gentle thoughts. 
 His was an existence occupied with only two ideas 
 — devotion to his duty as his master's servant, and 
 love for the child of the woman sleeping in the
 
 134 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 neiglibouring cburcbyarcl. Among the treasures 
 in bis barely furnished room \vas a picture of Jael, 
 a rude photograph taken one day at Barford. It 
 hung over his bead, and night after night be raised 
 his ej'es to it as to some pictured saint. 
 
 On that eventful night of the St. Leger, when 
 he arrived before the mills, supporting in his strong 
 arms the half-insensible form of his foster- son, he 
 found the great iron gate closed. He rang the 
 gate-bell, and the dull clanging echoed dismally 
 through the night, till at last a light appeared, 
 and Joe Styles, the watchman, came, lantern in 
 hand, to answer the summons. Behind him fol- 
 lowed the great watch-dog Leo, a formidable 
 mastiff-bitch. 
 
 "Hullo, Jabez ! " cried the watchman, unlock- 
 ing the gate, and swinging it open. "Back at 
 last?" 
 
 " Ay, mate," answered the overseer. " Here, 
 lend a hand, man ; I want to take Master Jack up 
 to my room." 
 
 "What's the matter wi' un?" asked Joe, with 
 a grin. "I saw un up at Doncaster flinging t*
 
 AFTER THE LEGER. 135 
 
 brass about like mad. Ower much lemonade, I 
 doubt ? " 
 
 " The lad's ill, very ill. I eanua tak un home 
 i' this state. He's got to sleep here i* t' mills." 
 
 " All reet, Jabez," replied the watchman. 
 
 It was no easy task to get Jack along. He 
 was comatose, and though he moved his legs- 
 mechanically, his head and arms swung forward, 
 and without powerful assistance he would have 
 fallen. But the two strong men lifted him bodily, 
 and carried rather than led him up the steep stone 
 stairs till they reached the topmost landing, and 
 drew him into the overseer's little room. Then, 
 while Joe lit a caudlCj Jabez placed the boy in a 
 chair. He sat there with ruffled hair, pallid face, 
 and eyes half-closed, feverishly muttering to him- 
 self. One hand hung by his side like lead, the 
 other was thrust into his breast. The old watch- 
 dog, who knew him well, kept close, and licked the 
 hanging hand. 
 
 The watchman, a grim, grizzled veteran, stood 
 looking on, and, holding up the lantern, flashed 
 the light into his face.
 
 136 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 "Poor lad, he's had his bellyful!" he said, 
 half amused and half shocked. " Say, Jabez, 
 Jem Wright t' stoker's sitting out wi' me i' the 
 engine-house, and we ha' a bottle o' good stuff 
 yonder. Will ye come and take a sup ? " 
 
 " No ! " cried Jabez, ifiercely. '* Curse t' drink ! 
 Curse them that make it, and them that sell it ! 
 See what it's done this neet ! " 
 
 " Sure enough ; but lad'll be reet i' the morn- 
 ing." 
 
 "He'll ne'er be reet again!" answered Jabez, 
 with a groan, like a deep sob. " Lea' us together ; 
 I'll stop wi' him, and put him to bed." 
 
 The watchman nodded, and left the room, fol- 
 lowed by the mastiff. The moment he had gone, 
 Jabez turned and locked the door ; then, uttering 
 a low cry, knelt by the lad's side, and burst into 
 tears. 
 
 " Jack, Jack, my lad ! " he cried. " Won't 'ee 
 speak to me ? 'Tis me — Jabez I Look up, lad, 
 look up ! " 
 
 But Jack made no sign ; he still sat in a state 
 of collapse, murmuring vacantly to himself. Then
 
 AFTER THE LEGER. I37 
 
 tenderly, like a woman, Jabez took off his coat 
 and Tvaistcoat, relieved him of bis necktie and 
 collar, and, raising him bodily, placed him upon the 
 bed. He fell there like a log, with a low, suffocating 
 moan. 
 
 Jabez bent over him, and looked into his face. 
 
 " 'Tis strange," he said to himself; "I ha' 
 seen many a mon o'erta'en wi' the cursed drink, 
 but ne'er a one like this ! He's more like a mon 
 death-struck wi' poison ! Poor lad ! Poor lad ! " 
 
 " Water ! " moaned Jack, as if gasping for 
 breath. 
 
 Jabez moistened his parched lips, and laid his 
 head gently back upon the pillow. As he did so, 
 he saw the picture of Jael hanging over the head 
 of the bed. 
 
 '' I promised to be a feyther to un," he cried, 
 stretching out his arms to the picture, while the 
 great tears rolled down his cheeks, " and I'll keep 
 my word. I ha' been a lonely man for thy sake, 
 Jael, but now thou hast gien me a son — thy living 
 image, wi' the same blue een and bonny golden 
 hair. Oh, my lass — my lass ! just as your face
 
 138 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 looked when we found thee dying i' t' snow is t' 
 lad's this neet ! " 
 
 Then, mastered by his emotion, he sank on 
 his knees by the bedside, and prayed aloud. 
 Pra3'er more unselfish, more solemn and touching, 
 never rose from the lips of man. And as he 
 prayed, he took the boy's clammy hand, which 
 hung loose on the coverlet, and kissed it again and 
 again. In his own name, in the name of his own 
 love and sorrow, he asked God to pardon the lad 
 for his folly that day ; to watch over and preserve 
 him from future temptation ; to keep from his lips 
 the j)oison of drink ; to strengthen him against 
 all evil ; to make him a happy man, and to crown 
 him with honour and prosperous days. Lastly, 
 with an infinite tenderness, he interceded for a 
 happy sequel to the lad's love for Eachel Dene. 
 
 "Lord, Lord, turn not the lass's heart against 
 un, but be kinder to my lad than Thou hast been 
 to me ! Keep him fro' lonesomeness like mine, 
 and answer his prayer wi' life and love ! " 
 
 Strong feeling makes even rough men eloquent, 
 and Jabez uttered his thoughts as if inspired.
 
 AFTER THE LEGER. 139 
 
 Then rising to bis feet, he looked down on Jack 
 with unutterable affection, for all the time it was 
 still Jael's face that he saw before him now, as he 
 had seen it the night she came home to die. 
 
 It was now getting late, and Jabez had still to 
 get down to the cottage, and break the news to the 
 old people. So, with one last look at the heavily- 
 sleeping lad, he left the room, closing the door 
 stiffly behind him. 
 
 " He'll be reet enough till I come back," he 
 muttered, " and I'll watch by his side all t' neet, 
 poor lad, poor lad ! 'Twill be a bitter wakening 
 for him to-morrow morn." 
 
 Descending the dark stairs, he passed the offices 
 below, and came out upon the courtyard, and 
 reaching the gate, opened it with his master key, 
 which he had taken down from a nail in the room 
 above. He was soon out in the open street, facing 
 wind a.nd rain, for it was a stormy night. Looking 
 up at the mill building as he passed, he saw the 
 windows all dark and desolate, and wafted another 
 blessing to the lad lying asleep within. 
 
 His way lay through the town, and close past
 
 140 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 the churchyard. As ho passed the shadow of the 
 church, he ran up against a man. 
 
 "Confound you!" cried a voice; "where the 
 deuce are you rushing ? Who are you, eh ? " 
 
 "Jabez Pryke," answered the overseer. "Is 
 it thee. Master Ealph ? " 
 
 " Yes. Where are you bound ? " 
 
 "Down to Gaffer Heywood's cottage, sir." 
 
 "I thought you slept at the mills," said Ealph. 
 " By the way, how's young Hopeful ? Have you 
 taken him home ?" 
 
 "Nay, sir; he be lying asleep i' my room at 
 t' mills. I'm going to tell the gaffer where he 
 is, and then come back and look after un till 
 morning." 
 
 " I see," returned Ealph, with a laugh. " I 
 say, wasn't he awfully screwed ? Never saw a man 
 so gone in my life ! How did it happen ? " 
 
 "Maybe you can tell that better than me," said 
 Jabez, significantly. " Though t' poor lad was 
 o'erta'en, he's sober and hard-working, and never 
 came to this pass before." 
 
 "Well, good night," cried Ealph, moving away.
 
 AFTER THE LEGER. 141 
 
 "Good neet," replied Jabez, coldly. "You'll 
 say nowt 0' this to t' master ? " 
 
 "I'm afraid lie knows all about it, for everybody 
 saw the lad in bis mad fit. However, if I can put 
 in a good word for him, I will ! " 
 
 Leaving Jabez Pryke to make the best of his 
 way down to the cottage, Ealph Hollis hurried on 
 eagerly in the direction of the mills. Once or 
 twice he paused and listened, but everything was 
 still, and not a soul was in the street. In a few 
 minutes he reached the street where the mills 
 buildings were situated, and stood looking up, as 
 Jabez had done, to the dark, dismal windows. 
 The light of the lamp suspended over the gate fell 
 upon his face, which was wild and pale as death. 
 He was still excited with the drink he had taken 
 during the day, and he shook like a leaf. 
 
 Drawing a flask from the breast-pocket of his 
 great-coat, he took a long draught. Then, 
 approaching the gate, and touching it with his 
 outstretched hands, he peered in. All was dark 
 and silent. Suddenly, as he leaned against the 
 gate, it opened.
 
 142 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 "The gate is unlocked!" he muttcretl, with a 
 low cry of surprise. " That's unfortunate, but 
 it shows the old fool will hasten back. If the 
 thing is to be done, there is not a moment to 
 lose ! " 
 
 But his knees knocked together, and he trembled 
 from head to foot. Another draught at the flask 
 steadied him a little. For a minute 3'et he stood 
 hesitating. 
 
 " It's sink or swim ! If I don't pay up to- 
 morrow everything will come out ; and even if I 
 am discovered, Jacob Dene will never send me to 
 gaol. Curse the money ! but I must have it, and 
 I know it's tlierc ! By God, I'll do it ! " 
 
 He crept into the yard, and approached the 
 stairs leading to the cashier's ofiSce. He paused 
 and listened again ; there was not a sound, save 
 the moaning of the wind, and the pattering of the 
 rain. Groping his way up the stairs, he reached 
 the first floor. As he paused there, a low moaning 
 sound broke upon the ear, coming from the rooms 
 above. 
 
 "Heywood! I forgot Jiim!'' thought Ralph.
 
 AFTER THE LEGER. 143 
 
 "I must see if lie is awake; if he is, and recog- 
 nizes me, I can soon frame an excuse for being 
 here." 
 
 He went on from stair to stair till he reached 
 the top floor, and paused outside the room where 
 Jack was lying. He knocked softly; there was 
 no answer. Then he quietly opened the door, and 
 peeped in. Jack lay tossing on the bed with his 
 eyes closed, muttering incoherently, seeing and 
 hearing nothing. 
 
 Ealph drew the door to, and slipt again down 
 the stairs.
 
 144 RACHEL DEXE. 
 
 CHAPTEE XII. 
 
 JABEZ PRYKE's vigil. 
 
 It was getting late when Jabez Pryke reached the 
 cottage, but there was a light in the window, and, 
 entering without ceremony, he found the old 
 couple sitting up by the parlour fire. Jasper lay 
 back in his armchair, nursing his gouty knee, 
 while Joan, spectacles on nose, sat at the table 
 leaning on her elbows, and reading out of a news- 
 paper some days old. She looked up as Jabez 
 entered, and greeted him by name. 
 
 "Is it thee, Jabez? Welcome back, lad. But 
 Where's Jack?" 
 
 "Jack's not coming home t' neet," answered 
 the overseer, quietly. "I left him yonder at t' 
 mills." 
 
 "At t' mills!" echoed the old woman. Then,
 
 JABEZ PRYKE'S VIGIL. 145 
 
 startled by the strange expression on Jabez's face, 
 she added, " Summat's wrong. Speak out, -Jabez 
 Pryke ! " 
 
 " It's nowt, grannie ! " he replied, forcing a 
 smile. " Come, let me sit down, and I'll tell thee 
 all about it." 
 
 "Ay, sit down," said Jasper, hospitably. *' Sit 
 down, lad, and tell us about t' Leger." 
 
 But as Jabez took a seat by the fire, Joan rose 
 angrily to her feet. 
 
 ** T' Leger ! " she cried. " Hark to t' owd fool — 
 he thinks 0' nowt but racing and siccan folly. But 
 I want to hear about Jack. Summat's wrong, I 
 say. No humbugging, Jabez ! " 
 
 " Nay, grannie." 
 
 " Thou mayst humbug Jasper theer, but 't won't 
 do wi' me. Look me in t' face, Jabez. What's 
 come to our lad ? Where hast left him ? " 
 
 "As I told thee," answered Jabez. "At t' mills, 
 sound asleep in my bed." 
 
 " And why hast left him iliecr ? " 
 
 Jabez answered again, not lifting his eyes. 
 
 "Well, then, he were a bit lively — he took a 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 146 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 glass o'er much ; and — and — I thought it hest he 
 should bide at t' mills till he came to hissen." 
 
 Jasper emitted a low whistle, Joan an indignant 
 exclamation. 
 
 ^' Drunk, d'ye mean?" she cried. 
 
 ** Well, a bit excited like," said the overseer. 
 "He was put out about t' favourite, and got 
 tasting with his friends, and — and — well, lads will 
 be lads, and 'tis nobbut once in t' year," 
 
 Though he forced a smile, and tried to speak 
 lightly, his face belied his words. His heart felt 
 cold and dead within him, and he was miserable 
 and ashamed. The old woman, watching him 
 keenly, saw that the affair was serious. 
 
 "He must ha' been bad indeed," she cried, "if 
 he couldna come home." 
 
 Jabez made no reply, but Jasper here took up 
 the thread of talk. 
 
 "Jabez is reet. If t' lad did get merry, 'tis 
 nobbut once a year. Lord, I ha' been that way 
 my sen, many a time ! " 
 
 "Jack's not like thcc,'" snapped his wife — 
 "an idle, foolish owd man, thinking o' nowt but
 
 JABEZ PRYKE'S VIGIL. \^^ 
 
 idling and drinking, and smoking t' pipe in a 
 corner." 
 
 " Tliankee, wife," returned Jasper, with a grin. 
 
 "Nay, Jack comes o' better stuff; and if be 
 were overta'en, there's been some foul play, I 
 wager. Come, Jabez Pryke, I'll ha' the truth. 
 Tell it out like a man ! " 
 
 Thus urged, the overseer gave a somewhat rose- 
 coloured but fairly truthful account of what had 
 occurred ; described the scene in the betting-ring, 
 the meeting with Eachel and the Denes, the 
 encounter with Fitzherbert and Ealpli Hollis, and 
 the other occurrences of that eventful day. 
 
 The moment he mentioned Ealph's name, Joan 
 interrupted him with a cry. 
 
 " Drinking wi' Ealph Hollis? Then 'tis young 
 maister's doing ! I was sure there was foul play 
 in't. And Miss Eachel ? Did she see him when 
 the poor lad was o'erta'en like that ? " 
 
 "Ay, grannie," answered Jabez; "that's the 
 worst on't. Miss Eachel seed him, and so did all 
 our folk. I tried my best to quiet un, but 'twas a 
 useless job."
 
 148 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 "When t' drink's in, t' wit's out," observed 
 Jasper, sententiously. 
 
 "Hold thy tongue!" cried Joan. "Ay, I see 
 it all. 'Twas Ealpli Hollis that made our lad 
 drink, and maybe put some stuff i' the glass to 
 steal away his brains." 
 
 "Nay, nay, grannie," said Jabez; "he'd ne'er 
 do that ! " 
 
 " I tell 'ee I know un. He'd gie his reet hand 
 to shame Jack in Miss Eachel's een. Ay, he's 
 a bad un, is Kalph Hollis, and comes o' a bad 
 stock. My poor lad ! who ne'er takes a sij) o' 
 liquor from one week's end to 'nother ! I'd ne'er 
 believe 't, Jabez, if thee hadna said it wi' thy 
 own lips." 
 
 Poor Jabez heard the reiDroach, and for the first 
 time in his life felt as if he had acted disloyal to 
 the boy he loved so much. Yet what could he 
 do? He was incapable of a lie, and he knew, 
 moreover, that Jack was sure of gentle judgment, 
 of tender sympathy in that house. And after all, 
 as he had said, it was but a single slip. One rainy 
 day does not make a flood; and one escapade,
 
 JABEZ PRYKE'S VIGIL. 149 
 
 however wild, would not convert the boy into a 
 drunkard. The fault could not be hidden now 
 from any one ; it would be redeemed by the future, 
 and perhaps be a fruitful warning. 
 
 Yet there was a load upon his heart which he 
 could not shake away. The shock had shaken him 
 more strangely than he could have thought pos- 
 sible ; the boy's downfall seemed his own death- 
 blow. 
 
 " Cheer up," chirped Jasper. " The lad '11 be 
 all reet i' t' morning. Joan, gie Jabez a cup 0' 
 our ale ; he's soaken wi' t' rain." 
 
 " Nay, Jasper," returned the overseer ; ** no ale 
 for me. I shall taste nobbut water fro' this day, 
 and if t' lad's wise he'll do t' same." 
 
 "Amen to that!" said Joan. ''Drink's the 
 scaith 0' t' world, and has killed more brave lads 
 than e'er fell i' bloody wars." 
 
 Jasper was dying to know about the St. Leger, 
 but in the presence of his wife he didn't dare to 
 speak. Fond of a glass himself, he thought that 
 a precious bit of trouble was being made out of a 
 very small affair. With Joan it was altogether
 
 150 RACHEL DENE, 
 
 different. Through a grave 'toman's intuitive per- 
 ception she knew that Jack's conduct was at once 
 alarming and mysterious. He was not like other 
 lads ; his whole life had heen one steady progress 
 upwards, and though on one or two occasions of 
 late he had heen a little merry, he had never made 
 his folly a public exhibition, or quite taken leave 
 of his sober senses. She saw, too, that Jabez 
 Pryke was deeply agitated and concerned, and she 
 suspected, as was the case, that he made the best 
 of a picture necessity compelled him to draw of 
 the lad's escapade. 
 
 The worst of the whole business was that the 
 Denes were aware of what had taken place. 
 Eager to see the fulfilment of her prophesies 
 concerning her grandson and Eachel Dene, poor 
 Joan had began to dread a castle in the air. For 
 the first time in her life, Rachel had seen the 
 young workman to serious disadvantage, excited 
 by drink, quarrelsome, reckless, transported out 
 of his usual gentle self. It was a bad day's 
 business. 
 
 Jabez rose to go.
 
 JABEZ PRYKE'S VIGIL. 151 
 
 "I'll get back," be said. "I only came down 
 to let tbee know tbe lad was safe wi' me." 
 
 " I ba' a mind to gang wi' tbee," returned Joan, 
 sadly. 
 
 " Nay, bide bere, granny ; be's all reet in my bed, 
 and I'll come down wben be wakes i' tbe morning." 
 
 Eager to prevent even Joan from seeing her 
 grandson in bis ^Dbysical and moral degradation, 
 Jabez succeeded in persuading ber to remain where 
 she was. Besides, it was an ugly night, and it was 
 a goodisb stretch to the mills. He shook hands 
 with Jasper, and then, bending over Joan, kissed 
 ber on the forehead. 
 
 "It's nowt, grannie, it's nowt," he said. "I'll 
 go bail for our lad, he'll ne'er forget hissen again ; 
 and after all, lads will be lads." 
 
 He left ber sitting in a brown study, tears in 
 ber kindly old eyes, which were fixed on the fire. 
 Was it, she thought, a castle in the air, after 
 all ? Was Jack no hero, and she no prophetess, 
 and would there never be tbe wedding of which she 
 had long dreamed ? Hopeful by nature, and full 
 of faith in human nature, she soon began to
 
 152 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 brighten. Jasper was right. Jas^xr had been no 
 saint, and j-et he had been the best of husbands. 
 As for Jack, he had his Avild oats to sow, and it 
 was just because he was so good that she had been 
 shocked by the account of his backshding. By- 
 and-by, encouraged by her change of manner, 
 Jasper put in another word, and this time his wife 
 thought he spoke hke a sensible man. When they 
 rose to go to bed, they were both of a mind. Jack 
 was a hero still, and that little affair of the 
 wedding was bound to come right. 
 
 Meantime Jabez Pryke walked back to the town 
 through the darkness and the rain. He did not 
 hasten, though it was getting very late, and, full 
 of his own disappointment, he was indifferent to 
 the weather. Argue with himself as he might, he 
 could not shake away the gloom which oj)pressed 
 him. He had felt more passionately stirred on 
 more than one occasion, but never so cheerless 
 and depressed. His heart was like lead. Could 
 it be that the shadow of some dreadful calamity 
 was already upon him ? If psychology be true, 
 that was possible.
 
 JABEZ PRYKE'S VIGIL. 153 
 
 He passed the cbiirchyarcl, and, instead of turn- 
 ing into the town, walked on towards The Oaks, 
 and, full of some irresistible impulse, looked up at 
 the house of the Denes. The house was dark, but 
 a light burned in one of the upper windows. A 
 shadow crossed the blind, and he recognized it was 
 the shadow of Eachel Dene. 
 
 ^^'ith the rain streaming upon his world-worn 
 face, he watched the shadow come and go, and 
 prayed that God might be pitiful, and not turn the 
 maiden's heart against his boy. He w^ould have 
 liked to enter and stand before her, and plead 
 poor Jack's cause, explaining his faults away. 
 His instinct told him that she w^ould be a partial 
 listener. He had more dread of the stern old 
 Quaker, Jacob Dene. Proud to the backbone, and 
 severe on human error, Jacob would be certain to 
 take the worst view of the case. 
 
 Sighing heavily, he turned back into the dark- 
 ness, and walked slowly to the mills. 
 
 Alone in her chamber, daintily furnished with 
 every luxury that love and wealth can give, Eachel
 
 154 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 sat before her mirror, thinking. Her hair flowed 
 down in a shower of gold over her loose dressing- 
 gown, and her bare feet were thrust into satin 
 slippers. She had dismissed her maid for the 
 night, and was quite alone. 
 
 All the evening she had been distraught and 
 sad, for her thoughts had been constantly with the 
 lad who had once saved her life. Up till that day- 
 she had thought of him with kindness, had been 
 tender and grateful to him, eager for his success, 
 hopeful of his future, but she had been unconscious 
 of any stronger feeling towards him than one of 
 womanly sympathy. Now it was quite different. 
 The very Bhock she had received on witnessing his 
 degradation had opened her eyes, and she knew, 
 for the first time, how deep a place he had in her 
 young heart. 
 
 Jacob Dene had loudly expressed his indignation 
 — on the way home, at the dinner-table, in the 
 drawing-room after dinner — and she had been 
 unable to say a word in Jack's defence, for she, 
 too, in spite of her newly-discovered affection, was 
 indignant. She could not shut away the sight she
 
 JABEZ PRYKE'S VIGIL. 155 
 
 had seen — the -wild, flushed face, the struggling 
 form, the laughing crowd, the whole horrible scene 
 in the ring at Doncaster. Even in his madness, 
 however, Jack Heywood had looked a splendid 
 fellow, and he had never seemed so handsome 
 in her eyes. Hitherto he had appeared a little 
 commonplace, somewhat too uniformly good and 
 virtuous, with all the rough worth and steadiness 
 of the dull mechanic; and Rachel, Quakeress as 
 she was, and innocent to the finger-tips, had been 
 inclined to patronize him. Now, he seemed another 
 being — wickeder and wilder, of course, and more 
 dangerous. The best of women love a man who 
 can be reckless upon occasion, and Eachel was no 
 exception to the rule. She was shocked, she was 
 offended, she was amazed, she was intensely 
 indignant. But she was in love ! 
 
 She sat before the glass, looking wistfully at 
 herself, and thinking it all over. Her thoughts 
 went back to the time when she and Jack were the 
 poor siege-children, transplanted from India to 
 grow in Deepdale. She remembered Jack as a 
 bo}", and afterwards as a bright, handsome lad.
 
 156 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 whom she had almost looked upon as a brother. 
 All along she had been conscious of his timid 
 worship ; but never until to-day had she realized 
 the sentiment which had been slowly growing in 
 her own heart. The dawning of love in a young 
 maid's heart is like the rosy flush of sunrise on 
 a summer dawn, when the leaves stir, the birds 
 begin to sing, and the air is full of a dewy sense 
 of joy. Full of her own loveliness, the warmth 
 of her own life, she felt her indignation die away 
 in a new sense of luxury, of yearning. She would 
 have liked to have gone to Jack that very minute, 
 and comforted him, and made him promise never 
 to go wrong again. He was so bright, so clever; 
 the world was beginning so well for him ; and yet 
 he was in trouble. Love and pity struggled within 
 her, and for the time being, in spite of moral 
 indignation, in spite of surprise and sorrow, the 
 lad's cause was won. 
 
 " How foolish I am ! " she thought. " I ought 
 to be very angry, for he looked dreadful, and 'tis 
 a shame indeed to see a man so degrade himself 
 before the world. I thought him so gentle and
 
 JABEZ PRYKE'S VIGIL. 157 
 
 quiet, too ! No wonder grandpapa was shocked ! 
 When I see Jack he shall know that I am very 
 angry!" 
 
 But, in a little while, she smiled at herself in 
 the glass, and murmured, softly, " Poor fellow ! "
 
 158 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 UP AT THE MILLS. 
 
 The rain was falling fast, and Joe Styles, the 
 ■watchman, after taking his accustomed rounds, 
 which he did every two hours, was sitting in the 
 engine-room, smoking his pipe, and playing a 
 hand at cribbage with Jem Wright, the stoker, 
 who was, of course, off duty. The watch-dog, Leo, 
 lay fast asleep at his master's feet. 
 
 Both Styles and Wright had been to pay their 
 respects at the shrine of St. Leger, and were full 
 of the events of the day. 
 
 Both had lost in the mills sweepstakes, and 
 both were considerably vexed at the defeat of the 
 favourite. They kept a pretty sharp look-out on 
 the game, though, and it was only during the 
 intervals of dealing that they compared notes.
 
 UP AT THE MILLS. 159 
 
 "Well, well," observed Styles; "hasn't Jack 
 Hej'wood got his cargo aboard ! " 
 
 " I never heerd 0' un i' that way afore," replied 
 Wright. 
 
 " Nor I either. He'll ha' an awful head on him 
 i' t' mornin'. It's nowt to say he was screwed; 
 he was clean daft. Well, t' lad will be sore 'shamed 
 0' hissen to-morrow — that is, if he remembers owt 
 about it. First game to me, Jem. It's thy deal, 
 lad. Gie us a bit 0' baccy while I mek cards for 
 thee." 
 
 At this moment the clock struck twelve. 
 
 Just upon the last stroke Jabez reached the 
 mills. As he got outside the quadrangle, looking 
 up, he saw a light in the counting-house. 
 
 Now, a light there after business hours was 
 unusual, but a light there at midnight was extra- 
 ordinary. 
 
 " It canna be Styles," muttered Jabez ; " he has 
 no means 0' gettin' in. Except t' gaffer, no one 
 has the pass-key — nobbut mysen." 
 
 Quick as lightning it flashed through his mind 
 that many heavy remittances had arrived by that
 
 l6o RACHEL DENE. 
 
 morning's post, and that, in consequence of every- 
 body hurrying off to Barnolby to catch the train, 
 they might not have been paid into the bank. 
 
 "Anyhow," he continued, "the safe's all reet, 
 for I've got t' key here i' my pocket." 
 
 To his horror, he found that he had lost his 
 bunch of keys. 
 
 Then it occurred to him that, in his haste to get 
 away — for Jack was dreadfully afraid they would 
 miss the train — he had left the keys behind him. 
 
 For a moment the thought paralyzed him. It 
 seemed as if he had been guilty of a criminal 
 negligence, amounting almost to a breach of trust. 
 Suppose a robber, a burglar, should have found 
 his way to the counting-house ? 
 
 He grasped his stick firmly, and disappeared 
 rapidly down the passage which led to the con- 
 geries of offices amongst which the counting-house 
 was situated. Without thinking of alarming the 
 watchman, he passed alone up the stairs. 
 
 Meanwhile, fortune had been favourable to Jem 
 Wright in the contest at cribbage, which was still 
 going on at the engine-house.
 
 UP AT THE MILLS. i6r 
 
 "Fifteen two, fifteen four, fifteen six, a pair's 
 eight, a pair's ten, and one for bis nob's eleven. 
 Game, Joe." 
 
 "Well, tbat's game and game; now for the 
 conqueror, and I'll gang borne. Tak' tbree wbile 
 I deal." 
 
 As Styles proceeded to deal the cards, a loud 
 cry, loud like a buman cry, startled tbe players to 
 their feet. It startled tbe dog, too, who leaped up, 
 emitting a fierce growl. 
 
 " Jem," said Styles, dropping tbe cards, " there's 
 murder goin' on somewhere, lad ! " 
 
 "It's a man a-callin'," responded tbe other. 
 "If it bad been a woman, now, I'd ha' tbowt 
 nought about it. Happen some chap might ha* 
 been purrin her a bit to keep her in order, and 
 they wenches are apt to cry out afore theer 
 hurt ! " 
 
 Again came the cry, this time shriller than 
 before ; again Leo growled ominously. 
 
 " It's in t' mill, lad ! Bear a band, and stir thy 
 stumps," said Styles ; " and bring wi' thee yon 
 crowbar — it may be useful." 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 l62 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 So saying, they started for the front side of the 
 mill — the side from whence the sounds arose. 
 They reached the quadrangle. Once more came 
 the voice, getting feehler and feebler still. 
 
 "Sure as death," said Styles, "that's Jabez 
 Pryke's voice, if ever Jabez spoke. Let's put on 
 steam, or we may be too late." 
 
 As they rapidly crossed the quadrangle, they 
 heard above them the tramp of struggling feet, the 
 noise of furniture being overturned, and of men 
 engaged in a deadly strife. 
 
 Looking up, they saw, in a confused mass, the 
 shadows of two struggling human figures cast upon 
 the lighted window-blind of the counting-house. 
 Evidently two men were intertwined together in a 
 death-struggle. 
 
 The watchers stood paralyzed for a moment; 
 but as the dog leaped up, barking furiously, the 
 shadows melted away like a dissolving view. Then 
 they took a new shape. One figure stood erect 
 and alone, with arms thrust forth in defence or 
 defiance, while the other, recoiling from the fierce 
 impact, staggered backward, and vanished from
 
 UP AT THE MILLS. 163 
 
 view. Simultaneously arose a terrible sound — a 
 shrill, piercing cry, like that of a dying horse in 
 the last moments of its agony, when torn to 
 pieces by shot or shell upon some bloody battle- 
 field; then came the dull, heavy thud of a 
 falling body, then silence, for even the dog 
 trembled and crouched in terror at his master's 
 heel. 
 
 The weird phantasmagoria we have endeavoured 
 to describe barely occupied thirty seconds ; but 
 such seconds ! 
 
 As the solitary figure above stood erect and 
 motionless, with arms uplifted, a colossal silhouette 
 of despair, or remorse, or both, the watchman and 
 the stoker had arrived beneath the window. 
 
 The one took out his revolver and examined it 
 carefully in the moonlight, and grasped Leo by 
 the collar, while the other shouldered his crowbar, 
 and both men and dog disappeared noiselessly up 
 the dark, tortuous passage before them. 
 
 It took them a minute or two to thread their 
 way through the darkness before they could reach 
 the corridor on the first floor, where they were
 
 1 64 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 brought to a bait by the soiincl of a voice exclaim- 
 ing, in agonizing tones, " Ob, Jaboz, Jabez, 'tis 1 
 •wbo have killed tbee ! " 
 
 At tbe sound, the mastiff struggled to get free. 
 
 Eeleasing bim, Styles said, "Good lad, go for 
 un ! Hi, lad, go ! " 
 
 Growling fiercely, with eyes aflame, and bristling 
 hair, the dog sprang into the counting-house. 
 
 The men without waited anxiously for what 
 might come, for, when roused, Leo was a ferocious 
 brute. To their astonishment his j'ells of defiance 
 subsided into a howl so pathetic, that it reminded 
 Joe (who had served in the constabulary in tbe 
 sister isle) of the plaintive wailing of women at an 
 Irish keening. 
 
 They stayed to hear no more, but burst into the 
 room. 
 
 What a sight it was that met their eyes ! 
 
 The safe, thrown wide open, appeared to have 
 been rifled ; the cash-box lay overturned on the 
 floor, and its contents — coin, drafts, and bank-notes 
 — were scattered in reckless confusion in every 
 direction ; the scanty furniture was overturned
 
 UP AT THE MILLS. 165 
 
 and broken; while midst the dehris, with white 
 face, and glaring ej-es, and gashed temples, lay 
 Jabez Pryke, stone dead, in a pool of blood. 
 
 Over the body stood Jack Hey wood. 
 
 He was half dressed, and seemed wholly 
 demented. 
 
 His shirt and his hands were bedabbled with 
 blood, his hair stood up erect, and his eyes were 
 starting from his head. The dog lay whining and 
 shivering at his feet ; while, utterly regardless of 
 the men's aj^pearance, Jack continued to bewail 
 the murdered man, with tears and cries, and sobs 
 of half-stupefied remorse. 
 
 Finding it impossible to obtain any coherent or 
 rational statement from him. Styles despatched 
 the stoker to ring the alarm bell, while he, still 
 gripping his revolver, continued to mount guard. 
 A minute afterwards the bell rang out through the 
 storm, startling hill and dale.
 
 i66 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE DEAD MAN. 
 
 The bell rang out in the night, high above the 
 shrill crying of the wind, startling every dwelling 
 in Deepdale, and sounding far away across the 
 lonely rain-beaten moor. In an incredibly short 
 space of time the streets and lanes were thronged 
 with masses of people surging towards the mill in 
 a murmuring stream. 
 
 "What's t' matter?" "Hast t' reservoir bust 
 up at t' head, or is t' mill afire?" "Who's 
 ringing t' bell? " " Hark yonder ! " " This way 
 — this way ! " were some of the cries that rose 
 upon the night. 
 
 The throng swept in at the mill gate, and filled 
 the great quadrangle. Men, women, lads and
 
 THE DEAD MAN. 167 
 
 lasses, little cliildren, confusedly mixed together. 
 They saw with wonder the lights in the uxjper 
 windows of the main building ; they heard the hell 
 shrieking high above them ; and while the rain 
 swept down upon them, and the wind moaned, 
 they were moving towards the passage leading 
 upward, when the bell suddenly ceased, and 
 the figure of the stoker appeared before them 
 crying, " Silence ! keep back, lads ! " And in 
 answer to their questioning cries, he added, "It's 
 murder, lads ! T' overseer's lying up yonder, 
 dead ! " 
 
 Then, in spite of his warnings, they flocked up 
 the stair, and the foremost among them rushing 
 into the room, saw Jack Heywood standing over 
 the overseer's dead body moaning and wailing, 
 while the dog crouched at his feet, and the watch- 
 man looked on aghast. From those who crowded 
 into the room, to those who ranged outside, from 
 the counting-house to the quadrangle, from the 
 quadrangle to the street, and on through the little 
 town, the news spread like wild-fire. Murder had 
 been done ! Jabez Pryke had been killed up at
 
 1 68 RACHEL DEXE. 
 
 the mill, and young Jack Hej'wood bad been taken 
 almost red-banded in tbe act. 
 
 Had be been any otber tban Jack Heywood be 
 would bave been torn to pieces by tbe mob ; but 
 be was too well known and too beloved, and tbose 
 wbo knew tbem could scarcely believe tbeir eyes 
 or ears. So, wben tbe constables appeared pusbing 
 tbeir way tbrougb tbe tbrong, and bad tbeir bands 
 upon bim, tbere was a murmur of wonder, almost 
 of indignation. Eapidly and breatblessly tbe 
 watcbman panted out bis story, and told all tbat 
 be bad beard or seen. Jack listened as if dazed, 
 but wben tbe constables seized bim be uttered a 
 sbriek, and tried to tear bimself free. 
 
 At tbis juncture Jacob Dene appeared, looking 
 wbite and stern. Told tbe wbole terrible trutb, 
 be gazed at tbe wretcbed lad, saying, " I warned 
 tbee, Jack Heywood. Tbis comes of tbe drink 
 tbat made tbee mad at Doncaster. Tbou bast 
 slain tby best friend." 
 
 " Jabez, Jabez ! " sbrieked Jack, gazing in borror 
 and despair on tbe dead man. 
 
 Tbere was no doubt ; be was dead indeed. A
 
 THE DEAD MAN, 169 
 
 doctor, summoned in baste, pronounced life to be 
 quite extinct. Horrified and awe-stricken, the 
 crowd looked on, while the constables hand- 
 cuffed their i^risoner, in spite of his appealing 
 cries. 
 
 Suddenly there came another sound, the shriek 
 of a woman. Wild, ghastly, tottering, Joan 
 Heywood pushed her way into the counting-house 
 like one demented ; but when she saw the man, 
 who had parted from her full of lusty life only an 
 hour before, lying dead upon the floor ; when she 
 beheld the other, whom she loved dearer than her 
 own life, standing there with hair and hands 
 bedabbled with blood, she fell wailing upon her 
 knees, and with outstretched arms besought her 
 grandson to prove his innocence of a crime so 
 hideous. Dazed and stupefied, Jack ceased to 
 struggle, and looked at her wildly ; then, with a 
 mad cry, he hid his face in his hands and sobbed 
 aloud. 
 
 That night was one long remembered in Deep- 
 dale. Men and women thronged the streets till 
 daybreak, discussing the terrible event. Hitherto,
 
 I70 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 in that happy valle}', crime of any serious kind 
 had been almost unknown ; and now, for the first 
 time, the peaceful spell was broken by a deed 
 so horrible, so infamous, as almost to transcend 
 beHef. 
 
 Meantime Kalph Hollis had let himself in 
 with his latchkey, and gone to bed at once. 
 "When the news of the murder reached the 
 Vicarage, as it did before many hours had passed, 
 Mrs. Hollis tried her son's door and found it 
 locked ; then she knocked softly, but received no 
 reply. 
 
 "Poor lad, he is tired out!" she said. "Let 
 him rest till the morning — it will be time enough 
 to tell him then." 
 
 But Ralph HolHs knew too well already. Crouch- 
 ing in his chamber, he had heard the tolling bell, 
 the tumult, the alarm ; and peering from his 
 window he saw the lights moving about the town, 
 and the whole place awake. Towards daybreak 
 he fell into a troubled sleep, broken by bad dreams. 
 He was awakened by a knocking at his door, and
 
 THE DEAD MAN. 171 
 
 opening his eyes, saw the daylight streaming in at 
 the window. 
 
 " Ealph ! " cried his mother's voice. " Are you 
 awake ?" 
 
 " Yes, mother." 
 
 " There has heen murder at the mills. Jabez 
 Pryke, the overseer, has been killed by young 
 Hey wood. Get up at once ! " 
 
 He heard her descend the stairs, and staggered 
 from his bed, his eyes wild, his face blanched and 
 terror-stricken. Instinctively he moved to the 
 glass, and shuddered at the reflection mirrored 
 there. His head went round, his brain was still full 
 of the fumes of drink, and he could hardly realize 
 what had occurred. When he did so, he sank as 
 if paralyzed on his knees by the bedside, and hid 
 his face in his hands. Nearly an hour passed thus, 
 when he was disturbed by a second knocking at 
 his door, and started up, trembling like a leaf. 
 
 " Ralph, are you ready ? " cried the voice. 
 
 " I am dressing, mother ! " 
 
 His parched and bloodless lips could hardly 
 frame the words.
 
 173 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 " Let me in ! I must speak to you ! " 
 
 He hesitated for a moment, then conquering 
 himself with an effort, he opened the door. To 
 his surprise, his mother, scarcely looking into 
 his face, threw her arms wildly around his 
 neck. 
 
 "Mother, is it true," he gasped, "that the 
 overseer " 
 
 " Yes, he has been murdered, and the whole 
 place is in alarm ! " she replied. Then, looking 
 into his face and seeing it so white and bloodless, 
 she added, " No wonder you are horrified ! It is 
 terrible ! Young Heywood did it, and has been 
 arrested ! " 
 
 " My God ! " he murmured. 
 
 " But it is not that which has brought me back 
 again. Oh, Ealph ! I am sorry, very sorry, for 
 Algy, but I cannot forget that he was always so 
 unkind to you, my darling ! " 
 
 " What do you mean ? " cried Ealph, 
 
 " Bead that ! " she answered, putting a telegram 
 into his hand. With eyes dim, and head swimming 
 round, he read as follows : —
 
 THE DEAD MAN. i;3 
 
 " To Ealpb, Earl of Beauchamp, the Vicarage, 
 Deepdale. 
 " My Lord, 
 
 "Your uncle died this morning, at 
 two o'clock. I await your lordship's commands. 
 
 "ElCHARD BaRKINS."
 
 [74 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 THE INQUEST. 
 
 Although Jack Heywood was a general favourite, 
 opinion at the moment of bis arrest was much 
 divided against him. For the news had spread 
 everywhere of the fight at Doncaster ; of the 
 violent altercation, and the yet more violent 
 threats uttered against Jabez in Jack's di-unken 
 frenzy during the homeward journey ; of the sus- 
 picious circumstances under which he was found 
 with the murdered man; and, lastly, of his own 
 self-upbraidings and self-accusations. 
 
 Despite all this, there were two or three women 
 who believed in the lad's innocence, as truly as 
 they believed in the justice of Heaven. 
 
 "Were they to lay down a pack o' Bibles, and
 
 THE INQUEST. I75 
 
 swear be did it, I wouldn't believe 'em ! My own 
 beart knows my boy is innocent ! " sturdily declared 
 Joan Heywood. And Kacbel ? Wben Jacob Dene 
 alleged tbat Jack was guilty, sbe said, quietly, 
 '' Grandpa, if tbat is tby opinion, we need not 
 discuss tbe matter any furtber. I've known Mr. 
 Heywood from cbildbood, and know tbat be is not 
 capable of an act so wicked." 
 
 " I believe tbe cbild is rigbt," cbimed in Mrs. 
 Dene. 
 
 " I bope it may prove so," rejoined Jacob ; " but 
 tbings look black against bim." 
 
 Meanwbile tbe body of tbe murdered man bad 
 been left alone, wbile Jack was also put under 
 lock and key at tbe Bound House; nor was bo 
 alone eitber, for even tbe autocrat of Deepdale 
 could not find it in bis beart to say nay to Joan 
 Heywood's request to be permitted to stay witb 
 bar grandson. 
 
 Tbe poor soul watcbed over bis fevered sleep 
 for tbe nigbt, and administered sucb bomely 
 remedies as ber own experience migbt suggest, or 
 Doctor "Wbitaker's skill prescribe, but administered
 
 176 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 them in vain, for as yet the wretched lad lay void 
 of sense and motion, almost of life. 
 
 When he returned to consciousness, and found 
 himself in the Eound House, he could not compre- 
 hend what had brought him there ; or why his 
 head was splitting, his throat parched and swollen, 
 and his whole body a burning fire. As yet he 
 could not form his thoughts into shape ; indeed, 
 he had no clear recollection of anything which 
 had occurred after the affair in Doncaster. The 
 drink which in the first instance had maddened 
 him, in the second had stupefied his senses into 
 oblivion. 
 
 After vainly trying to arrive at a conclusion 
 whether he was awake or dreaming, he turned and 
 caught sight of Joan Heywood. 
 
 Starting up, he tried to speak ; but he was 
 unable to articulate a syllable. 
 
 As he fell back, he pointed to his choking throat, 
 and Joan quickly brought him some water. 
 
 When he had allayed his raging thirst he 
 gasped, "What's come, granny? and why am I 
 here ? "
 
 THE INQUEST. 177 
 
 "They brought thee here last neet, lad," she 
 answered sadly. 
 
 "What for?" 
 
 "I canna tell thee." 
 
 "Canna tell, canna tell! Surely it's not for 
 punchm' that thief's head at Doncaster ? Don't 
 cry, granny, don't cry, but send for grandad and 
 Jabez to get me out of this rat-trap." 
 
 " Jabez, lad, Jabez," moaned the old woman ; 
 '' woes me, poor Jabez ! " 
 
 And she broke down utterly. 
 
 There w^as no help for it; he must know all. 
 Better that he should learn it from her than from 
 his gaoler. 
 
 When at length the truth was borne in upon 
 the wretched lad's mind, his amazement and 
 consternation were only equalled by his grief. 
 At first the thing appeared too monstrous, too 
 incredible for belief. Yet, even as she spoke, he 
 saw, or seemed to see, as if in some awful vision, 
 the white face of Jabez, the staring eyes, the pool 
 of blood, the open safe, the rifled cash-box, and the 
 dog crying at his feet. 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 178 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 Could it be iDossible that, in the delirium of 
 drink, he had dared to lift his parricidal hand 
 against his friend, his more than father ? If he 
 knew himself, that could never be, for truly he 
 would gladly have laid down his own life for Jabez 
 Pryke. But, alas ! he knew also that yesterday 
 he was not himself ! 
 
 Catching sight of his blood-stained linen, and 
 his bloody hands, he flung himself on the ground 
 in an agony of grief. His tears, his cries, his 
 inarticulate expressions of anguish, pierced the 
 poor grandam's heart. She tried to soothe him, 
 but in vain ; he was inconsolable. Under any 
 circumstances, the loss of Jabez would have been 
 one of the greatest calamities which could have 
 befallen him ; but to lose him under such circum- 
 stances was beyond horror. He tried to think, to 
 recall what had happened; but some connecting 
 link of memory was gone altogether, or, at an}' 
 rate, refused to cohere. How came he at the mill 
 at all ? That was the very first question he asked 
 himself; but he was unable to answer it. When 
 Joan explained that Jabez had taken him there,
 
 THE IXQUEST. 179 
 
 be bad not tbe faintest recollection of tbe occur- 
 rence. Tbe pressure on bis nerves was so great, 
 tbe cbarge against bim so awful, tbe crime itself 
 so foul, strange, and unnatural, tbat tbe bare 
 tbougbt of it drove bim to despair. 
 
 "Ob, grannie, grannie," be cried, "you know 
 I couldna do it ; my arm would bave rotted from 
 my body first ! But could — ob, could I, wbile tbat 
 infernal poison was working i' my brain — could 
 I bave been so mad, so wicked, as to lift my band 
 against bim ? Ob, tbat I were dead ! God knows 
 I would bave died fifty times over for bis sake. Ob, 
 Jabez, Jabez, my dear old dad — my dear old 
 dad ! " 
 
 Joan tried by every means in ber power to 
 awaken . bis dormant memory and to supply tbe 
 missing link, but in vain. 
 
 Meanwbile, tbe sad news bad an unlooked-for 
 effect on Jasper Heywood, for it cured bis rbeu- 
 matics like magic. 
 
 Jumping out of bed, be roared, "It's a lie — a 
 lie of tbe devil's own making ! An' Jabez, too —
 
 I So RACHEL DENE, 
 
 dear old Jabez ! Wliy, t' lad wouldn't 'a harmed 
 a hair o' bis bead ! He loved iin too well for 
 tbat ! " 
 
 Witb tbat be scrambled into bis elotbes, and, 
 regardless of bis rbeumatism, ran up tbe valley to 
 tbe Bound House like a two-year-old. 
 
 Tbrowing bis arms round Jack, be cried, " Cbeer 
 up, lad — cbeer up ! If all t' saints in t' calendar 
 were to come back to life and swear they seed it, 
 I'd tell 'em tbey were liars ! And a tbief, too ! 
 "Wby, dang un, tbeer never was a tbief i' t' famil}', 
 from curfew time upwards ! As for brass, wby, 
 we've gotten enow, and to spare ! Go tby ways, 
 owd woman, to Barford, and see owd Grainger, t' 
 lawyer, and tell un to come bere and stand up 
 for Jack at crowner's 'quest. Go at once, lass, 
 and I'll stay here and blow a bit o' baccy wi' 
 t' lad." 
 
 Witbout another word, Joan went off to Barford 
 to retain tbe solicitor, while Jasper tried to cbeer 
 up bis unfortunate grandson. 
 
 At tbe post-mortem examination it was discovered 
 that Jabez's skull was badly fractured, and tbat
 
 THE INQUEST. i8i 
 
 the temporal artery of the right temple had been 
 severed as clearly as if it had been cut in two 
 with a lancet. 
 
 When the inquest took place the next day, the 
 jury, after hearing the evidence of Stokes and 
 Wright, at the coroner's direction, without a 
 moment's hesitation, returned a verdict of "Wilful 
 murder " against Jack, who was that night trans- 
 ferred to Barford. When brought before the 
 stipendiary, Grainger, the solicitor, alleging that 
 he had not yet had time to consult his client, 
 requested a remand, which was granted to that 
 day week. 
 
 Barford Gaol was not Deepdale Piound House ; 
 and when, after a painful parting with his grand- 
 father and grandmother, Jack was consigned to 
 his solitary cell, he appeared quietly but utterly 
 demented. 
 
 The mystery and the horror of the thing 
 increased day by day, and no single ray of light 
 appeared to illumine the darkness which enshrouded 
 it. Up at the Oaks, and down at the cottage, and 
 through the whole valley of Deepdale, men's minds,
 
 1 82 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 and \Yomen's, too, were occupied with nothing else. 
 The men saw the case with their heads, and they 
 were reluctantly compelled to arrive at the conclu- 
 sion that, in a fit of mad drunkenness, Jack had 
 done the deed. The women, who saw only with 
 their hearts, refused to believe that it was pos- 
 sible for him, under any circumstances, to kill 
 the man he loved so dearly. Both men and 
 women sympathized with the unhappy lad in his 
 tribulation. 
 
 As for Eachel, angry, ashamed as she was at the 
 disreputable scene in Doncaster, she never believed 
 for an instant that his. was the hand that struck 
 the blow. 
 
 Jacob Dene and the vicar were both puzzled at 
 the commission of such a crime in the absence of 
 all motive. Their opinions, however, underwent a 
 change in consequence of a piece of evidence which 
 transpired at the next examination. The betting 
 man from Sheffield, reading an account of " The 
 Deepdale Mystery " in the Yorkshire Post, con- 
 cluded to make tracks for Barford, to sec if there 
 was any chance of "copping" that five-and-
 
 THE INQUEST. 183 
 
 twenty pounds wliicli Jack had omitted to send 
 him. 
 
 Now, it must be premised that, after repeated 
 consultations with his cHent, Mr. Grainger could 
 make neither head nor tail of his case. The 
 evidence for the prosecution commenced with the 
 statement of the Deepdale lads who had accom- 
 panied prisoner and deceased from Doncaster. 
 They testified to prisoner's mad demeanour, his 
 violence, his abuse, and his threats. Then came 
 the watchman and the stoker ; and, lastly, to 
 the astonishment of everybody, Mr. Thomas 
 Yondal. 
 
 That worthy had made some inquiries of the 
 chief constable, with the result that, almost before 
 he knew where he was, he found himself in the 
 witness-box. He deposed as to the betting, and 
 the fight at Doncaster ; the debt of five-and-twenty 
 pounds; prisoner's appeal to deceased to pay it; his 
 refusal, and the subsequent quarrel. 
 
 As Grainger listened, he felt that every word of 
 this evidence was a strand in the rope that was 
 to hang his unfortunate client ; and he merely
 
 1 84 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 shrugged his shoulders, statmg that he reserved 
 his defence. 
 
 "That being the case," said the stipendiary, 
 " the prisoner is committed to tale his trial at 
 Leeds Assizes."
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE EAEL OF BEAUCHAMP. 
 
 Within an hour after be had heard the news of 
 his accession to the earldom, Ealph Hollis was on 
 horseback, riding full-speed to Barford. Wild and 
 pale, with blood-shot eyes, he had come from his 
 chamber to receive the congratulations of his 
 mother and the vicar ; then, without breakfasting 
 — for he declared he had no appetite — he had gone 
 round to the stable, and ordered his horse to be 
 saddled at once. 
 
 " Poor boy ! " sighed his mother. " The surprise 
 was a joyful one, but a shock notwithstanding. He 
 can scarcely realize his good fortune." 
 
 Pialph returned to the front of the house, followed 
 by the groom leading the horse. Mrs. Hollis came
 
 1 86 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 out to the porch, and Avas again startled to see 
 how dazed and strange her son still api^eared. 
 
 "Mother," he said nervously, "I am just going 
 over to Barford, and shall telegraph to London 
 from there." 
 
 "Won't you go first to the Oaks, and tell the 
 Denes ? " 
 
 " I leave that to you," answered the young man. 
 " I shall be back very soon. What with one thing 
 and another, I feel rather upset. I shall be all 
 right after a gallop in the fresh aii-." 
 
 Grasping the reins -with hands that trembled 
 violently, ho mounted his horse and rode rapidly 
 away, his mother watching him with proud and 
 loving eyes till he disappeared. In her joy at the 
 good fortune, Mrs. Hollis had quite forgotten the 
 dark affair which had occurred the previous night. 
 All her heart was full of pride and happiness. 
 
 "I will go to Eachel," she said, "and tell her 
 the good news." 
 
 So, while Ealph was riding towards Barford, 
 she went and found Eachel Dene. But when she 
 spoke of Ealph's good fortune, of his accession to
 
 THE EARL OF BEAUCHAMP, 187 
 
 wealth and a great title, Eacbel scarcely seemed 
 to hear or heed. The young gh-l's whole heart 
 was occupied with two feelings — tenderness for 
 the poor lad just committed for a terrible crime, 
 and indignation against those who could possibly 
 believe him guilty. All her soul was at last awake. 
 Sharp on her discovery of the true state of her 
 feelings towards Jack Heywood had come the 
 announcement that he was a criminal, arrested for 
 murder. It was almost too horrible for belief. 
 
 "Are you not glad, Eachel," said Mrs. Hollis, 
 *' of my boy's good fortune ? " 
 
 Eachel looked at her sadly, with eyes full of tears. 
 
 " Of course I am glad, for his sake," she 
 answered; "but to-night I can think of one 
 thing only — 'tis so strange, so terrible ! Mr. 
 Heywood is accused of murdering his foster-father, 
 and, although I am sure he is innocent, it looks 
 so black against him." 
 
 Mrs. Hollis looked in her face, and saw there, 
 with womanly instinct, the confession of the truth 
 — that Eachel had given her heart to the man 
 who had once saved her life. Well, after all, it
 
 1 88 RACHEL DENE, 
 
 did not matter much now. The new Earl of 
 Beauchamp might look higher than the heiress 
 of the Denes. The day before, such a match would 
 have been social salvation for her son — for them 
 all ; but a few hours had changed the cards, and 
 Ralph was master of the situation. 
 
 Meantime, Ealph rode towards Barford. Quitting 
 Deepdale by the high road, he reached the open 
 moor, and, drawing rein, looked back and saw, 
 looming darkly against the morning sky, the black 
 outline of the mills. A shudder ran through his 
 frame as he thought of the dead man lying there, 
 and of the living man already a prisoner in the 
 Bound House. 
 
 "My God!" he murmured. "If I had only 
 known yesterday ! Too late — too late ! " 
 
 Full sunshine lay upon the moor and sparkled 
 on the river, for the clouds of last night's rain had 
 passed away, and fresh airs were winnowing the 
 sky to purest azure. All the world looked bright 
 and glad ; but Balph saw only darkness and desola- 
 tion. Haggard and pale, he turned his horse's 
 head again, and hurried on.
 
 THE EARL OF BE AUG H AMP. 189 
 
 It was a good long ride to Barford, and more 
 than once on the way thither he halted at roadside 
 inns, and plied himself with ardent spirits. The 
 liquor put some heart into him, and brought a 
 little colour to his cheeks, so that by the time he 
 reached the great town he was more master of 
 himself. Eiding up to the principal hotel in the 
 High Street, he dismounted, handed his horse to 
 an ostler, and strolled into the coffee-room. He 
 had not yet breakfasted, but he felt no hunger 
 whatever ; so he ordered a glass of brandy, and 
 had just drunk it when a hand was laid upon 
 his shoulder. Starting, and growing deadly pale, 
 he turned and encountered the familiar face of 
 Captain Fitzherbert. 
 
 "Hullo, old fellow," said the Captain; ''you've 
 left your premises and come over early. Come to 
 settle, eh? I'm glad of that, for some of our 
 fellows were talking about you last night, and 
 were rather rusty." 
 
 Ealph did not answer; his tongue clung 
 to the roof of his mouth, and he trembled 
 nervously.
 
 190 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 "Anything the matter?" asked Fitzherbert, 
 looking at him in some astonishment. 
 
 "Nothing, nothing! " answered the young iiian. 
 " I'm a little upset after yesterday, that's all ! " 
 
 "Hot coppers, eh? By-the-by, what's this 
 about a murder down at Deepdale ? The news 
 came over this morning by the carrier." 
 
 " It isn't exactly a murder," said Ealph, avert- 
 ing his eyes, and looking through the window into 
 the street. " A row of some sort between our old 
 overseer and that young fellow we had in tow 
 yesterday. The lad got blind drunk, there was a 
 quarrel, and something ugly happened. But it 
 isn't murder ! No, no ! not murder ! " 
 
 The Captain's face grew very grave. 
 
 " I'm confoundedly sorry," he said. " The old 
 man has been killed, at any rate, hasn't he ? " 
 
 Ealph nodded. 
 
 " Well, it's an ugly business for both of us ! " 
 
 " For us ! What business is it of ours ? " 
 
 "Well, we played the youngster a trick, didn't we, 
 and doctored his drink ? The cursed stuff must 
 have made a madman of him, and you see "
 
 THE EARL OF BEAUCHAMP. 191 
 
 " It was only a lark," cried Ealph, eagerly. 
 "How could we foresee what was going to 
 happen ? As for the lad, I'm sorry for him, and 
 I'll do my best to help him — yes, by the Lord, I 
 will ! " 
 
 *' I hope you will," returned Fitzherbert. " But 
 now, about our fellows and that money ? Have 
 you got it ?" 
 
 " No," was the reply. 
 
 " Then I'm afraid there'll be a row. I warned 
 you," said the Captain. 
 
 " I think they'll give me time," said Ealph, 
 forcing a sickly smile. " Yon will, at any rate, 
 won't you ? The fact is, old fellow— but haven't you 
 heard ? I'm in clover at last ! The old man died 
 last night, and I got the telegram this morning." 
 
 Fitzherbert was at once astonished and de- 
 lighted. 
 
 " I'll tell the boys," he cried. " Give you time ? 
 I should think they would now!' But he added 
 as he wrung the young Earl's hand, '' I'm sorry 
 about that poor devil of a workman, though ! I 
 wish we hadn't met him yesterday."
 
 192 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 While Fitzberbert went round to the barracks 
 to tell the officers of his friend's change of fortune, 
 Ralph ordered breakfast to be prepared in a private 
 room. When the meal was ready he entered the 
 chamber, and found a fire burning on the hearth, 
 and everything very comfortable. 
 
 "I'll ring if I want anything more," he said to 
 the waiter. " Stop, though ; I want you to send 
 me a telegram. Bring me a form at once." 
 
 When the man brought the form, Ralph wrote 
 the telegram out as follows, and addressed it to 
 Barkius, the confidential valet of the deceased 
 Earl :— 
 
 " Yours received. I shall come on to London 
 as soon as possible. Beauchamp, White Lion 
 Hotel, Barford. " 
 
 Directly the waiter left the room, Ralph rose up 
 and locked the door ; crossing to the window, 
 which was on the first floor, he looked out 
 nervously into the street ; then, secure from obser- 
 vation, he opened his coat, and took from the 
 breast pocket a roll of bank-notes and papers.
 
 THE EARL OF BEAUCHAMP. 193 
 
 His hauds shook like leaves, and his face was 
 as white as death, as he turned the papers 
 over. 
 
 Startled by the sound of footsteps along the 
 corridor, he thrust them back into his bosom, and 
 stood listening ; but the steps passed by, and he 
 breathed again. Conquering his agitation with a 
 great effort, he knelt down before the fire, and 
 placing the papers one by one in the blaze, 
 watched them rapidly consuming; bank-notes, 
 bills of exchange, letters of credit, all shared the 
 same fate. In a few minutes, every one of them 
 had disappeared, save for a few charred fragments 
 and pieces of film that fluttered on the top of the 
 blazing coal. As if fearful that even these might 
 betray his secret, he seized the poker and dis- 
 persed the ashes into the surrounding flame. At 
 last, rising to his feet, he stood again listening. 
 All was quite silent. He went tip-toe to the door, 
 unlocked it stealthily, and then sat down to 
 breakfast. 
 
 He could not eat; he was too spirit- shaken and 
 terrified; but he hurriedly di-ank some cups of 
 
 VOL. I. o
 
 194 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 tea, and swallowed a few morsels of dry toast. He 
 rose again, and looked in the mirror over the 
 mantelpiece ; his face was like a dead man's, and 
 his head was swimming round. 
 
 A sound of voices, mingled with merry laughter, 
 came from below, and, ascending the stairs, 
 approached nearer and nearer. 
 
 ** Eoom twenty-five — all right ! " cried the voice 
 of Fitzherbert. 
 
 The next moment the Captain appeared, accom- 
 panied by several young officers of the fighting 
 Forty-First. 
 
 ** Here we are ! " cried Fitzherbert. " Come to 
 congratulate you, old boy ! " 
 
 And Ealph, surrounded on every side by his 
 friends, and felicitated on his good fortune, forcing 
 a spasmodic gaiety, bade them welcome, and ring- 
 ing the bell, ordered champagne and cigars. After 
 a glass or two, he felt better, laughed and joked, 
 and made as merry as possible. Not a word was 
 said on either side of the paper with his signature 
 which some of these young bloods held in their 
 possession. Ealph was the hero of the hour.
 
 THE EARL OF BEAUCHAMP. 195 
 
 He did not return to Deepdale that night, but, 
 while Jack Heywood was languishing in prison, 
 kept it up royally with the officers and Fitz- 
 herbert. Play ensued, of course, and the young 
 Earl lost as usual ; but he did not care, and dis- 
 tributed his paper merrily to the winners, who 
 were well content to take it. It was long after 
 midnight when he staggered to his bed in the 
 hotel, and fell into a drunken sleep. 
 
 He woke next morning with a splitting head- 
 ache ; but in spite of that, his nerves were calmer, 
 and he had made up his mind to the situation. 
 The Barford newspapers were full of long accounts 
 of the Deepdale tragedy. Sitting at breakfast in 
 his private room, he read through all the horrible 
 details of the murder, the prisoner's arrest and 
 self-accusations, the overwhelming and damning 
 proofs against him. 
 
 " Poor devil ! " thought Ralph the Earl. " One 
 comfort is, they can't make it anything worse than 
 manslaughter. If it was a hanging matter, I 
 think I should go mad ! " 
 
 He was now resolved not to return to Deepdale
 
 196 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 until the affair bad blown over. His nerves, be 
 felt, were quite unequal to tbe ordeal. So he 
 wrote a hasty letter to his mother, telling her 
 that it was necessary for him to go straight on 
 to London. There was an express train to the 
 metropolis at two p.m. ; he determined to take 
 it — a determination which be communicated to 
 Fitzherbert, who stepped in after breakfast. 
 
 The Captain, while expressing his approval of 
 the arrangement, returned again to the subject 
 of the murder. 
 
 " Seen the papers, of course ? " he said. 
 " Well, I do hope the poor lad will get off clear, 
 or, at any rate, with a light punishment. I'd go 
 into the box myself to prove that he was blazing 
 drunk, and didn't know what he was doing." 
 
 "You'd better not do that," returned Ralph, 
 nervously. 
 
 " Well, perhaps not ; but, by George, I won't 
 stand by quietly if they make out too black a case 
 against him ! I feel still as if it was all our doing 
 — don't you ? " 
 
 " No," said Ealph ; " and, for that matter,
 
 THE EARL OF BEAUCHAMP. 197 
 
 there will be plenty of people to swear as to his 
 condition." 
 
 " It says in the papers that there was money 
 stolen and valuable papers, but the police can find 
 no trace of them. It's queer, now, seeing that he 
 was taken red-handed, that nothing of the sort 
 was found upon him. But what's the matter ? 
 You look as white as a ghost ! " 
 
 "I've a confounded headache," stammered 
 Ealph. " Two nights of it, you know ! Besides, 
 this business of the succession has come upon me 
 so suddenly that I don't know whether I'm standing 
 on my head or my heels." 
 
 "I suppose not," laughed the Captain. ''By 
 George, though, I should like to be in your shoes ! 
 You wanted the tin badly enough, old fellow, and 
 I suppose you don't object to the title thrown in ? " 
 
 "Not a bit of it," said EaliDh, echoing the 
 laugh. 
 
 Presently Fitzherbert went away, promising to 
 meet his friend shortly in London; and Ealph 
 was again left alone to his self-reproaches and 
 nervous terrors. Determined to front the world 
 
 I. 3
 
 1 98 RACHEL DEA'E. 
 
 boldly, and put on the brightest face possible, he 
 strolled downstairs and stood at the inn door, 
 smoking his cigar and looking at the crowded 
 street. The news of his good fortune had spread 
 by this time; the landlord of the inn came for- 
 ward to congratulate him, while the waiters and 
 chambermaids looked on obsequiously. Several 
 acquaintances came up, and after fresh congratu- 
 lations, passed on. So the time wore away till 
 noon. 
 
 As twelve o'clock sounded from the neighbour- 
 ing cathedral, a dog-cart drove up to the door, 
 and Ealph saw, seated beside the driver, the very 
 last person he could have wished to encounter at 
 the moment — Eachel Dene. She was quite alone, 
 and the moment she saw the young man she 
 uttered a joyful exclamation. He stepped forward, 
 and assisted her to alight. 
 
 "Why, what brings you to Barford?" he asked. 
 ** And why are you without an escort ? " 
 
 "Grandpapa could not come with me," she 
 cried quickly, " and as there was no time to be 
 lost, I hurried hither alone. I am going on to
 
 THE EARL OF BEAUCHAMP. 199 
 
 Mr. Grainger about poor Jack Heywood. Ob, 
 Ealpb, tbou bast beard ? Was ever such a 
 calamity ? Yet be is innocent, I know ! " 
 
 "I'm sure I hope so," answered Ealpb, shrink- 
 ing from the gaze of the young girl's clear, truthful 
 eyes. 
 
 " I am so glad we have met, for tbou wilt help 
 me, I am sure. Let me go on to Mr. Grainger 
 at once." 
 
 And she took bis arm eagerly, as if to lead him 
 away. 
 
 "I am very sorry," be stammered nervously, 
 " but it is absolutely imperative for me to go to 
 London. The Earl is dead. My mother has told 
 you, I suppose ? and I must pay him the last 
 respects, as his kinsman and heir." 
 
 " Thou canst not help the dead ! " cried Rachel. 
 " What we must all do now is clear. An innocent 
 man is accused of murder, and perchance we can 
 save him. Come with me, for God's sake, and 
 come at once ! " 
 
 Ealpb would have done so gladly, but he dreaded 
 the ordeal of the interview with the solicitor, and
 
 200 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 all his wish now was to get out of the way as 
 quickly as possible. He was still full of a nervous 
 terror. 
 
 "My dear Eachel, it is impossible!" he said. 
 "Of course, I will do all I can; but they are 
 waiting for me in London." 
 
 Again he felt her truthful eyes upon him, and 
 shrank from meeting them. He felt for the 
 moment as if he could have sunk through the 
 earth in shame. 
 
 ** Oh, Kalph, he saved my life ! " sobbed the 
 girl. 
 
 " Don't fret yourself unnecessarily," he replied. 
 " Every one knows that the man was drunk, and 
 if he did this thing it was in a drunken frenzy. 
 That, of course, will plead in his favour." 
 
 But Eachel, drying her eyes suddenly, and 
 setting her face to a look of clear resolve, cried, 
 "He is innocent, I tell thee ; nay, I could stake 
 my life upon it. Whoever killed poor Mr. Pryke, 
 it was not Jack Heywood! " 
 
 It was a hard task for Ealph Hollis to preserve 
 his self-command ; he was tortured as if upon the
 
 THE EARL OF BEAUCHAMP. 201 
 
 rack, and could scarcely refrain from uttering a 
 cry of pain. Trembling violently, be turned his 
 head away, when he felt the girl's hand clutching 
 his arm, and heard her saying, " The man who 
 did this thing was a thief, and had broken into 
 the counting-house. Jack Heywood was incapable 
 of such an act ! Oh, Ealph, he was thy com- 
 panion in childhood, and was ever so good and 
 true ! Thou canst not think him guilty ? Say 
 thou canst not ? " 
 
 "Upon my life," answered Ealph, "I don't 
 know what to think or say ! I'm only sure of one 
 thing — that I could cut off my right hand to set 
 the fellow free ! " 
 
 A few more hurried words, and Eachel was gone. 
 The young man breathed again as soon as she 
 disappeared. 
 
 "Confound the girl!" he muttered. "Why 
 the deuce does she meddle in the matter ? I was 
 right, then ; it is clear enough that she loves 
 him ! " 
 
 In his nervous alarm from other causes, he 
 scarcely felt at that moment even a qualm of
 
 202 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 jealousy. All bis wish now was to fly away from 
 the scene of his horror, and from the eyes which at 
 any moment might read his secret. 
 
 A little later, he was seated alone in a first-class 
 carriage, travelling by express to London, more 
 like a fugitive from justice than the happy heir to 
 fortune and an earldom. 
 
 END OF VOL. I.