L I B RARY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 UN IVLR^SITY 
 
 or ILLINOIS 
 
 823 
 v./
 
 ONE AGAINST TEE WOELD; 
 
 01, 
 
 REUBENS WAR.
 
 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD; 
 
 OB, 
 
 REUBEN'S WAR, 
 
 BT 
 
 JOHN SAUNDERS, 
 
 AUTHOR OF "ABEL DKAKE'b WIFE," " GUY WATEF.iL\X," ETC. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 TtNSLEY BROTHERS, 18, CATHERINE ST., STRAND. 
 
 1865. 
 
 [The Right of Translaiion w rcsened.]
 
 LONDON : 
 BRADBURY AND EVANS, PRINTEKS, WHITEFRIARS.
 
 ^1 
 
 s< 
 
 
 V . 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 J 
 
 CHAP 
 
 '\^ 
 
 I.- 
 
 
 II. 
 
 
 III. 
 
 
 IV. 
 
 , 
 
 V. 
 
 7 
 
 VI, 
 
 H 
 
 VII. 
 
 1 
 
 VIII. 
 
 ^ 
 
 IX. 
 
 flO 
 
 
 ,- 
 
 X. 
 
 THE traveller's JOY " (THOMAS JESSOP, 
 PROPRIETOR) IS PERPLEXED WITH STRANGE 
 GUESTS 
 
 ^ XII. 
 
 ^17 
 
 —BRINGS MORE GRIST TO THE MILL . 
 
 — THE TURN OF THE ECILL 
 
 — RINGING THE ALARM-BELL 
 
 — DIFFERENCES OF OPINION 
 
 —NOBBY bob's TOILET 
 
 — NOBBY BOB DISCOVERS, UNEXPECTEDLY, A NT:W 
 VOCATION ...... 
 
 — EXCITING TIMES FOR ' ' THE TRAVELLER'S JOY ' 
 
 —GENT rube's MISGIVINGS . . 
 
 — GENT RUBE IN HIS FIRST HONEST HOME . 
 
 — NOBBY BOB IS HIMSELF SURPRISED, WHEN HE 
 HAD ONLY MEANT TO SURPRISE OTHERS 
 
 — MRS. MAXFIELD MAXES AN ALARMING DISCO 
 VERY 
 
 XTII. — SUNDAY AT NORTHOPE 
 
 1 
 
 13 
 
 22 
 29 
 46 
 51 
 
 55 
 61 
 72 
 
 77 
 
 95 
 
 100 
 106 
 
 ^
 
 VI 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAP. 
 
 XrV. — PUPIL AND MASTER IX A NEW RELATION 
 
 XV. MR. JESSOP ON TRUFFLE-HUNTING 
 
 XVI. THE STOLEN TREASURE . . . " . 
 
 XVII. MR. THOMAS JESSOP UNDERTAKES A JOURNEY 
 
 XVIII. — THE INQUEST 
 
 XIX. A robber's LAST RESTING-PLACE. 
 
 XX. — Reuben's promise to nobby bob 
 XXI. — A thieves' treasurer .... 
 XXII. — gleams of peace, hope, and honest labour 
 
 XXin. DID BELLA SEE THE STOLEN LOCKET? 
 
 XXIV. — BELLA LEARNS ALL AT LAST 
 
 XXV. — REUBEN THINKS TO EVADE TROUBLE 
 
 XXVI. — THE doctor's STRANGE CONDUCT. 
 
 XXVn. — REUBEN TRIES TO EXPLAIN HOW THE "WAR ' 
 BEGAN BETWIXT HIMSELF AND THE WORLD 
 
 xxviu. — Reuben's story interrupted 
 
 PAGE 
 
 125 
 135 
 144 
 154 
 164 
 185 
 196 
 207 
 226 
 236 
 249 
 262 
 271 
 
 291 
 307
 
 ONE AGAINST THE ^\'OELD; 
 
 OB, 
 
 REUBEN'S WAPu 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 "the traveller's joy" (thomas jessop, pro- 
 prietor) IS perplexed with strange 
 
 GUESTS. 
 
 " Ay, ay, Molly, that will do, my beauty ! ** 
 said the gigantic landlord, as he stood for a 
 moment with his head almost touching the low 
 ceiling of the principal room of " The Traveller's 
 Joy ; " and then dropped, with an awful shaking 
 of the foundations of the house, into his wooden 
 chair, with its old-fashioned projecting sides and 
 high back sloping away at an acute angle. " Yes, 
 Molly, that will do. Now give me the footstool. 
 Right, right. Now for the pipe, my lass, now 
 for the pipe." The latter he took and put aside for 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 2 ONE AGAINST THE WOKLD. 
 
 the time on a place in the immense thickness of 
 the wall of the old stone house, which looked 
 like the window of some mediaeval fortress, so 
 narrow was the exterior opening for the glass, so 
 wide the mouth within. 
 
 "Unlock the har, lass," was the next com- 
 mand. The bar was a little dark cupboard with 
 a glass front and a narrow door, through which 
 the landlord must have long ceased to go. 
 
 *'It's pretty warmish this morning, I think. 
 Let's open the front door, my charmer, and have 
 a peep at the crocuses in the bit of garden there. 
 * Open doors and close pockets !' that's the motto 
 for a thriving landlord, Molly. Always invite 
 guests in, if you can, Molly, with an open door. 
 And now, my lass, as I think I can see pretty 
 well what is going on in every direction of my 
 domain for the next few hours, you may go and 
 help the missus in the kitchen, for she's got a 
 busy day on it with this feast coming on. And, 
 Molly, you needn^t shut the kitchen door, unless 
 you've got any secrets to tell. Then you may. 
 There^— don't stand grinning at me; one little 
 full moon grinning at another very big one isn't 
 at all desirable ; so get along." 
 
 Mr. Thomas Jessop thus began his usual 
 morning life and arrangements on the day of the 
 opening of this history. No wonder he had to
 
 3 
 
 be careful wlien he began, for he never moved if 
 he could help it through the whole day after- 
 He had been the wonder and admiration of the 
 neighbourhood for his height since he was nine- 
 teen ; and now that he was forty he was equally 
 distinguished for his bulk. It was a matter of 
 l^ride with him that he had once been offered an 
 engagement with a wealthy showman who occa- 
 sionally c^me into the vallej^s of this remote and 
 hilly region. He had felt proud, partly because 
 of the distinction, partly because he had had too 
 much respect for himself to accept iL He had 
 been an industrious man as long as industry was 
 possible, and had thus scraped enough money 
 together to marry a pretty and diminutive black- 
 eyed wife, and to get into a picturesque old inn, 
 then called " The Fighting Cock," but which 
 he and his proud little wife had transformed 
 into " The Traveller's Joy," in the first flush of 
 the honeymoon. 
 
 And, fortunately for him, when he could no 
 longer bustle about, he found he had got a wife 
 who could ; who loved such occupation ; and who 
 felt only the more put on her mettle by seeing 
 such a " grand " man as her husband reduced to 
 so complete a dependence upon her. So, while 
 he sat there surveying his ** domain," and chat- 
 ting with the guests, and taking care the reckon- 
 
 B 2
 
 4- ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 ing was always right, and doing his part (when 
 properly asked) to swell its amount, Mrs. Jessop, 
 with her Irish maid Molly, went singing about 
 the house like (as her husband said) any throstle. 
 It turned out, too, that Mr. Jessop's personal 
 difficulties helped to increase his pecuniary 
 means. People came up the valley from far dis- 
 tant villages and hamlets to see the great man, 
 who, if they only minded their p's and q's, re- 
 received them with affability; and would even 
 occasionally condescend to decide a bet as to the 
 number of yards of broadcloth required for his 
 Sunday coat. But woe to any rustic ribalds who 
 came there to jest at his expense, or even to be 
 guilty of any rudeness or ill-breeding. Only 
 some five years back, a conceited young farmer, 
 who was a well-known bully, walked in and said 
 with a bounce, not seeing very well through the 
 dark house-place, then fiUed with smoke, 
 " Where's this big man folk talk so about ? " 
 About half a minute later — for the operation 
 of rising took Mr. Jessop time — the young farmer 
 found himself suddenly caught by the collar and 
 lifted up like a wretched puppy, with one gigantic 
 hand, while the other, as he was dangling, pushed 
 him through the narrow but open front window, 
 and then dropped him all of a heap outside, 
 where he was greeted in a voice almost as deep
 
 and powerful as a minster bell, with the words, — 
 " D'je know where about I am now ? " 
 
 That was the last occasion on which Mr. Jessop 
 had been known to have signalised himself by 
 any personal activity. But the effect was decisive 
 on his fame and dignity. 
 
 Mr. Jessop was not, we may be sure-, a suspi- 
 cious or unkindly man. He was, indeed, very 
 much the reverse. Nature's overpowering bounty 
 to his person, he seemed instinctively to feel, 
 ought somehow or other to be dispensed in good 
 humour towards the world. But on this March 
 morning, as the clock began to give warning for 
 twelve and suggest thoughts of dinner, the land- 
 lord found himself a good deal perplexed by two 
 guests. 
 
 They came in separately, and with an interval 
 of half an hour between their arrivals, and they 
 appeared, at meeting, perfect strangers to each 
 other. The older one came first, and wanted to 
 know how soon the coach to Carslake would pass 
 the place wh^re the cross roads met close by; 
 and on being told, "Not till evening," had 
 appeared surprised, but sat down quietly, saying, 
 he supposed he must wait. Still, the men had 
 said nothing to offend him; on the contrary, they 
 had, while drawing together to drink as if casually 
 met, invited the landlord to join them, and began
 
 b ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 with a promising order of brandy-and-water and 
 pipes for the three. Partly, it was the look of 
 the pair that puzzled him; they seemed to be 
 mixed so oddly. The elder was a man of low 
 stature, but great strength of build, seemingly 
 about fifty years of age, with short bristling hair, 
 of that unpleasant colour that reminds you of a 
 pig, a bull neck, eyes small but piercing, and 
 reddish with a kind of fixed bloodshot expression ; 
 and features that, if not naturally repulsive by 
 their form, had become so by their intensely hard 
 expression. The whole head might have been 
 €ut out of some gigantic knob or protuberance of 
 a forest tree, with a good deal of the rough sur- 
 face left on, it looked so hard and bosslike. You 
 could not look in that man's face and hope to 
 change any resolve the man himself might have 
 come to; unless, indeed^ you had the good fortune 
 to know and be able to point out beyond all pos- 
 sibility of cavil, that you knew better what was 
 for his interest than he himself did. But you 
 might conclude, from a sight of his face, he did 
 not often give anybody the chance of doing that. 
 Another feature about him that added strangely 
 to the landlord's discomfort, almost disgust, was 
 the unpleasant shortness of his arms, which 
 almost approached deformity. But then, if short, 
 they seemed only to have become so in order to
 
 " THE TRAVELLER S JOY. 7 
 
 get more strong, and better able to take a bull- 
 dog grip of fortune. He was respectably dressed, 
 and carried a carpet-bag, as if he expected the 
 world to take him for a tradesman; but there 
 was no trade the landlord had ever heard of that 
 he could fit happily to the look of that guest — 
 except one that he didn't care to acknowledge 
 even to himself. 
 
 Contrasted with this man was the other guest, 
 who had been the last to arrive. He was very 
 young, scarcely more than a youth, though above 
 the average height, with slender form, broad 
 shoulders, and narrow waist ; a model of wiry, 
 muscular strength and agility. He had a mobile, 
 expressive, and intelligent face ; firm, bold mouth 
 and broad chin, expressive of strength ; dreamy, 
 soft brown eyes, changing suddenly with intense 
 light and fire under excitement, and short chest- 
 nut curls, through which he often passed his 
 hand, straightening out the locks and then letting 
 them spring back again into new forms of beauty 
 — a habit that seemed to have grown uncon- 
 sciously upon him. His voice, too, was as free, 
 pleasant, and frank as the elder man's was ab- 
 rupt, disagreeable, and provocative of all kinds 
 of doubt ; for it did not flow, but seemed to issue 
 from him with a sound that reminded you of a 
 thick rope revolving round a rusty cylinder and
 
 S ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 coming now and then to a knot. And so far the 
 landlord seemed to take kindly to the j^ounger 
 guest, both for his own sake and for the contrast 
 to the elder one. He was dressed in a gentle- 
 manly-looking suit of lavender grey — jacket, vest, 
 and trousers, all of the same cloth ; wore a straw 
 hat with black band and edging, a violet neck- 
 scarf fastened by a showy pin, and he carried a 
 neat little black bag, slung across his shoulder 
 by a strap : looking altogether like a tourist who 
 had come to see some of the beauties of the 
 valley — ^probably the abbey, with its woods and 
 falling waters. But, then, there was something 
 peculiar about the person and gestures of this 
 young man that undid much of the effect pro- 
 duced by his features. He seemed to sit on 
 springs ; to bend his head aside suddenly and 
 listen without apparent reason, as a wild animal 
 with its acute sense of hearing might do when 
 startled by some very distant intimation of 
 danger, and when certainly the landlord heard 
 nothing in particular to listen to ; to be wonder- 
 fully quick, agile, and lithe in all his movements ; 
 and then the fingers — so long, and slender, and 
 white, and elegant, and kept so clean at the nails 
 — seemed to have an individual life of their own, 
 which caused them to be in perpetual play, now 
 strumming on an imaginary piano, now throwing
 
 "the traveller's jot." 9 
 
 up and catching with unerring and easy accuracy 
 a shai'p-pointed knife that happened to lie on the 
 table; now brought to a sudden and enforced 
 rest by that owner's will in clenching them, 
 though even then they must go on rapping the 
 table with the knuckles and playing all kind of 
 fantasias upon it. 
 
 He had not been long under Mr. Jessop's 
 observation before he announced himself as a 
 pianoforte tuner, and asked Mr. Jessop if he 
 thought he was likely to get a job at the Squire's 
 close by. He was told that one of the foot- 
 men generally looked in at " The Traveller's 
 Joy" in the course of the day, and might be 
 spoken to. Then Mr. Jessop was asked the 
 servant's name, which struck him as odd ; and, 
 when he told it, he saw the two men exchange 
 glances, which he naturally thought still more 
 strange. In fact, he was getting quite uncom- 
 fortable. 
 
 By-and-by a Scotch drover came in and asked 
 for the paddock till the next morning for his 
 cattle ; and, while he was busy arranging with 
 the man about the price, the way to the paddock, 
 and so on, he saw the men together at the win- 
 dow examining a gleaming metal substance that 
 looked very like a weapon or tool of unknown 
 structure, but which, as he remembered a mo*
 
 10 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 ment after, might be only a part of the tuning 
 process. 
 
 Just then Molly came in to know if the gentle- 
 men woiild like dinner, as they had a joint of 
 roast beef ready, and they could haye it comfort- 
 ably together by themselves in the little parlour. 
 Mr. Jessop appreciated his w».ife's thoughtfulness 
 as to the interest of " The Traveller's Joy," but 
 was vexed that she had said anything about a 
 spare room. He had a strong desire to keep his 
 eye on these " gentry." 
 
 The invitation was accepted instantly, and 
 again glances were exchanged before both men 
 turned to look for the promised parlour. Molly 
 led them into it, and drew up a blind which 
 showed outside the window the green paddock, 
 with the bullocks just beginning to scatter 
 over it. 
 
 " Molly ! " resounded the landlord's voice. 
 Then, when she came within sight, he made 
 a gesture to her to come nearer, and whis- 
 pered, 
 
 " The room smokes a little, you know, when 
 the door is shut. Say so, and leave it open 
 so that I can see in. Thou understands, my 
 lass ? " 
 
 But the gentlemen found the open door too 
 Qhill}^, and preferred the smoke; and then they
 
 "the traveller's joy." 11 
 
 asked for tobacco, to fight the enemy with his 
 own weapons, as the young one said. And so 
 Mr. Jessop, while getting his own dinner from a 
 little round table with three legs, put down 
 carefully and accommodatingly over his bulky 
 limbs, was left to wonder and speculate as to the 
 meaning of the laugh he heard every now and 
 then resounding from the closed- up parlour, and 
 which seemed always to come from the younger 
 man. 
 
 Apple-j)ie followed the roast beef, and cream 
 cheese followed the apple-pie ; and then there 
 was a demand for more brandy and water and 
 fresh pipes. And, though they never once opened 
 the door to let the curious proprietor see how his 
 guests were getting on, there could be no doubt, 
 after hearing Molly's report, that they were on 
 uncommonly good terms together, and enjoying 
 a most satisfactory digestion. 
 
 But as for the landlord, who had generally a 
 good appetite (though one scarcely proportionate 
 to his bulk), he didn't enjoy his dinner a bit, and 
 told Molly so, who told the little black-eyed wife 
 in the kitchen, to the great vexation and surprise 
 of the latter, who didn't know of the oddities of 
 these strange guests, but stared at Molly, as the 
 representative of her husband, with the very 
 largest powers of vision of those good-humoured,
 
 12 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 sparkling black orbs, -while being further told to 
 look after the six silver spoons and the silver 
 mug which Aunt Jessop had given as a christen- 
 ing-gift to their only, and no longer living, 
 child.
 
 CHAPTEE 11. 
 
 BRINGS MORE GRIST TO THE MILL. 
 
 It was well on in the afternoon when Mr. 
 Jessop saw that door once more flung widely 
 open, and left so, as if to invite observation. 
 
 The young man came out, and said, 
 
 " Your friend in plush hasn't made his appear- 
 ance yet." 
 
 *' Friend ! Humph ! He comes here when he 
 likes, and pays for what he has ; and he's civil, 
 and that's about what our friendship amounts to. 
 He's a new man, and I don't take to new men 
 so fast as some people." 
 
 ^Yas this said in covert sarcasm of the young 
 man^s readiness to pick up acquaintances ? The 
 latter looked an instant on the broad, but not at 
 the moment smiling, disc presented by the land- 
 lord's face, then gave a laugh, turned on his heel, 
 and went back to the room. But Mr. Jessop no- 
 ticed he didn't shut the door. 
 
 Wheels were now heard entering the stable-
 
 14 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 yard, and the landlord saw the youth run to the 
 further window and lift the sash, and then slowly 
 raise the blind. Mr. Jessop could then see, as 
 well as the inmates of the parlour, an old- 
 fashioned, roomy phaeton standing outside with 
 two ladies in it, whom the landlord knew to be a 
 Mrs. Maxfield and her daughter, who lived fur- 
 ther up the valley. This daughter was already 
 talked of as the most beautiful girl that could 
 anywhere be found in Mr. Jessop's native place, 
 a wild and picturesque countrj^ which was noted 
 alike for its stalwart men and its lovely women. 
 
 Mr. Jessop manages to give his heavy chair a 
 bit of a turn on its castors, in order to have a 
 good look at her, but his attention is soon directed 
 to the young man, who stands near the window, 
 partly concealed by a curtain, gazing out, as if 
 struck at once into silence and immobility by 
 what he sees. What is it that so interests him ? 
 There is Mrs. Maxfield, a lady of some fifty-five 
 years, not in very good health, with an anxious, 
 querulous voice, speaking to the lad who acts as 
 ostler when he happens to be at home, as now. 
 She is dressed in black silk, over which she wears 
 a peculiarly rich red Indian shawl. She has grey 
 hair, gi'ey eyes, and a grey, unhealthy complexion. 
 Certainly, it is not Mrs. Maxfield that so enthrals 
 the eye of the young piano-tuner.
 
 BRINGS MORE GPJST TO THE MILL. 15 
 
 But there is Miss Maxfield — Bella, as the mo- 
 ther is heard calling her as they are descending 
 from the vehicle ; perhaps it is the fascinating 
 picture she makes, as, throwing back the dark 
 linsey mantle upon the seat of the phaeton, she 
 appears in a pink muslin dress, with a long scarf 
 of the same colour descending from the shoul- 
 ders, and a little round straw hat, trimmed with 
 a bunch of red roses and white daisies in front. 
 Her hair, as it is seen gleaming in the evening 
 sunset, might be supposed to consist of innumer- 
 able threads of the finest burnished gold; but 
 then the form of the ringlets into which they 
 shape themselves is so beautiful that one seeks 
 vainly for any image that can represent it other 
 than itself ; and is not very beautiful hair one of 
 the most perfectly beautiful things in the world ? 
 Her face is fair — so fair, that the blood seems to 
 be ready to start through the exquisitely trans- 
 parent skin at the slightest emotion. She looks 
 tall, but is not so ; for there is a certain graceful 
 completeness of form that always seems to sug- 
 gest greater than the true height, and she has 
 that. But it is the simplicity and modesty — 
 both almost childlike — of her every look and 
 gesture, that are so peculiarly winning. When 
 she speaks — now to her mother — now to the lad 
 who drives them — now to the ostler of " The Tra-
 
 16 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 veller's Joy" — and now to the drover who comes 
 up for a bit of gossip — there is a kind of percep- 
 tible struggle between her desire for self-posses- 
 sion and the consciousness of a momentary dis- 
 play — a stepping out of her inner sanctuary of 
 reserve — that touches you almost with a sense of 
 the pathetic in its beauty. 
 
 Mr. Jessop cannot but notice how the young 
 man stands there watching her and listening for 
 her every word. And what the look began, the 
 sound seems to have completed for him. The 
 voice is so clear, sweet, and silvery, that he thinks 
 it must be delicious to be able only to listen to 
 it hour after hour without taking in the sense of 
 a single word. But in the voice again there 
 occurs occasionally a something tender — sugges- 
 tive of melancholy — a kind of minor chord of 
 human speech. Altogether the young watcher 
 wonders what possessed him, when he begins at 
 last to recover the ordinary use of his senses. 
 
 She and her mother walked up and down on 
 the white stones of the clean stable -yard while 
 the horse was getting his feed, and thus gave 
 new opportunities to her unsuspected admirer of 
 studying this fresh human rose, yet only half 
 blown, and with all its first perfume, and all its 
 first deep tints of sunny life upon it, not a leaf 
 touched or discoloured.
 
 BRINGS MORE GRIST TO THE MILL. 17 
 
 The young man was rudely awakened by 
 the resounding voice of the landlord calling to 
 him from the house-place beyond, — " Mister, if 
 you please, can I have a word with you ? " 
 
 He came out wondering, and inly vexed at the 
 disturbance. 
 
 " The other" — here !Mr. Thomas Jessop seemed 
 puzzled for a word that would suit his grammar 
 and the discordant nature of his ideas ; but he 
 made a gulp at his difficulties, and said, " gen- 
 tleman — the other gentleman has paid the bill 
 for both, and gone away." 
 
 "Paid my share too!" repeated the piano- 
 tuner, but then seemed to forget his own sur- 
 prise. 
 
 *' Yes. He said you were such a pleasant 
 companion he thought he could do no less." 
 
 " Oh — indeed ! " was the <;omment. Then, 
 turning suddenly to the landlord, he said — 
 
 ** Pray who are the ladies in the phaeton ? " 
 
 " A widow lady and her daughter, of the name 
 ofMaxfield." 
 
 "And where do they live ?^' 
 
 " At Northope, some fifteen miles off." 
 
 "And does that road lead to Northope?" 
 asked the youth, pointing in a certain direction. 
 
 " Will you be good enough first to tell me 
 why you ask ? " suddenly broke in the land- 
 
 VOL. I. c
 
 18 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 lord, with an angry flush on his beaming face, 
 as the young man, in his unconscious anxiety, 
 came up close to the chair of the great man, who 
 sat looking at him with his right fist resting on 
 the little three-legged table. 
 
 "Why?— why? Oh, of course I will. I 
 don't like the look of that man who was here, 
 and left so suddenly." 
 
 " Neither do I. And you mean to say you 
 don't know him — you never met him before — 
 you didn't come here pretending only to meet 
 for the first time ? " 
 
 Just for a moment there was a furtive glance 
 from side to side of the frank eyes, then they 
 met the landlord's honest gaze in full confidence, 
 and said, 
 
 " I really don't know what makes you say all 
 this. Do I look like an intimate of his ? " And 
 the youth laughed, and shook his curly head 
 with an air of intense enjoyment of the joke, 
 and looked altogether so perfectly free from any 
 kind of embarrassment that the landlord's gather- 
 ing suspicion changed its aim, and settled exclu- 
 sively on the departed guest. He looked at the 
 young man, then away in the direction of the 
 outer door, and then dropping his voice to a deep 
 guttural sound meant for a whisper, he said, 
 striking his fist on the table,
 
 BRINGS MORE GRIST TO THE MILL. 19 
 
 " If that man isn't -a rogue, then I am ! — then 
 I am ! " he repeated, clinchingly, as he looked 
 in the young man's face. 
 
 " Gracious goodness ! you don't say so. You 
 don't mean a thief — or a burglar — or " 
 
 " He's all that, and more, as I'm a Christian, 
 and has gone off to waylay those poor ladies." 
 
 " Then hadn't you better say so, and warn 
 them before they start ? " 
 
 That remark cleared off the landlord's last 
 doubt, and he was glad to think so good-looking 
 a young fellow was not what he had fancied after 
 all. So he became quite confidential, while re- 
 lapsing into social prudence : 
 
 *' Well, you see, it's easy for us who have seen 
 the man and taken his ugly measure to say he's 
 what he shouldn't be, and that these ladies had 
 better stop here for a night ; but then I can 
 prove nothing, and mayhap they'd think I only 
 wanted to keep 'em to make brass out of 'em. 
 Besides, they may be obliged to go ; and it might 
 frighten 'em out of their lives if I said any thing, 
 and I be mistaken after all." 
 
 " Which way did the man go ?" 
 
 " Well, I must own I was venturing a little too 
 far, perhaps, in my doubts, for he went not up 
 the road there between the black lines of trees, 
 which you'll see if you look out, and which is 
 
 c 2
 
 20 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 their way, but in the direction of the Squire's 
 house, along the cross-road that goes by the 
 Hall." 
 
 " Then I think you may dismiss your fears, 
 landlord ; for, if he meant what you suppose, 
 he'd have to go pretty quick, and by the nearest 
 way, to waylay the vehicle in a safe place." 
 
 *' So he would. A — h \" and the landlord here 
 took his cap off with the air of a man who was 
 at the same time removing a great load from his 
 mind; and he wiped his head with his hand- 
 kerchief, and seemed altogether greatly relieved. 
 " And do you stay here to-night ? " he asked the 
 youth. 
 
 " No," was the reply ; " I am seeking jobs, and 
 must reach Lillington before nightfall. Our 
 friend in the plush evidently is not coming. 
 Which is the way to Lillington ? " 
 
 " Lillington ? Oh, the same as the phaeton is 
 
 ** How many miles ? " 
 
 " Five and three-quarters exactly from here ; 
 three from the half-way house." | 
 
 " Good-bye, then. Tm off. It'll be a fine 
 evening, I think.^' 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 They shook hands and parted ; and not till the 
 landlord had heard the rumbling of the phaeton
 
 BEINGS MOEE GRIST TO THE ilTLL. 21 
 
 betokening the departure of the ladies, and talked 
 the matter over with his wife, who now at last 
 came out from the kitchen, where she had been 
 busy, did it occur to him that, perhaps, after all, 
 the two men were connected, and were by this 
 time laughing over the way in which they had 
 tricked him almost into co-operation with their 
 plans against the poor unprotected ladies. For 
 the whole of that night " The Traveller's Joy " 
 was unable to boast of its influence, for its owner 
 remained wakeful, restless, and full of mis- 
 givings.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE TURN OF THE HILL. 
 
 *' Let tlie mare walk up the hill. I wish you 
 wouldnH be so fond of the whip, John," said 
 Mrs. Maxfield, testily, to the lad who was driving 
 them. " It seems to he getting steep. I think 
 we will get down and walk." The two ladies did 
 so, and walked on by the side of the steaming 
 horse, the vapour from the animal mixing with 
 the gathering mist. It was almost evening, and 
 as the eyes of the women glanced from time to 
 time to the woods through which they were pass- 
 ing, vague forms, suggesting vague but decidedly 
 unpleasing fancies, troubled them. 
 
 " I wish we were safely home, mother," said 
 the young lady. 
 
 *' Heaven knows, Bella, so do I. 'Twill be a 
 long time before I undertake such a journey 
 again. Good God! what's that? " She touched 
 her daughter's arm, who gazed in the direction 
 indicated, and saw some object that looked like
 
 THE TURN OF THE HILL. 23 
 
 a man stealing along by the side of the hedge 
 as if desiring to evade their notice — perhaps in 
 order to burst out upon them when quite near. 
 
 " John," said the younger lady, " you had 
 better jump down and lead the horse, while we 
 walk by your side. Let us all keep together." 
 
 John did as he was told ; and so they went on 
 for a few yards, seeing nothing of the figure, and 
 finding the hill grow more and more steep. The 
 horse began to pant and to stop as if in distress ; 
 and the women, forgetting their late fright, began 
 to wonder how they should get home — the mare 
 being so tired — when suddenly they heard a blow 
 given — a cr}^ — and saw the lad drop senseless on 
 the road. Mrs. Maxfield screamed, but found 
 her throat rudely grasped, whik a voice said, 
 
 " Be quiet, can't yer ? I mean ye no harm ; I 
 won't hurt a hair o' your blessed heads, if you'll 
 only be quiet." 
 
 " What do you want ? " asked Bella Maxfield, 
 in trembling accents. 
 
 *' Just what money and valleyables you've got 
 about you, that's all, my beautiful young lady." 
 
 " There, there," said Bella, giving her watch 
 and her own purse, and then her mother's purse, 
 Mrs. Maxfield being too frightened to speak or 
 to resist. 
 
 " Werry good ; but I'm fond of watches ; can't
 
 24 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 have too many of 'em, they make such nice keep- 
 sakes, you see, from ladies ; and I'm not parti- 
 cular as to the age of them as gives. Eh ? " 
 
 " My mother has no watch." 
 
 *' That's a lie, young un. Whaf s this ? " 
 roughly exclaimed the man, as he snatched with 
 brutal violence at the gold chain he had seen 
 from the parlour window of " The Traveller's 
 Joy " hanging round Mrs. Maxfield's neck. 
 
 " Don't hurt her ! Don't hurt her ! She will 
 give it to you," pleaded the poor girl. " Mother, 
 give it to him." 
 
 " I won't ! It's only a locket with my poor 
 husband's portrait. It was his dying gift." 
 
 " It'U be your dying gift, marm, if you don't 
 do it, and make no more fuss. D'ye hear ? " he 
 said, grasping the old lady's arm as if in a vice, 
 while she shrieked again and again with pain, 
 fright, and anger. 
 
 " Oh, mother, for my sake give it to him, or we 
 shall be murdered." 
 
 The last words were uttered low, but the man 
 heard them. 
 
 " There's the way poor men'^s charackters go. 
 Murder ! — ^just because I says I wants that ere 
 locket — and means to have it." Again Mrs. 
 Maxfield would have screamed, but the ruffian's 
 hand was at her throat. She felt faint. The
 
 THE TURN OF THE HILL. 25 
 
 locket and chain were given up. Another minute, 
 and the shuddering, almost fainting, women saw 
 the man pass into the dense shade and disappear. 
 
 Mrs. Maxfield dropped on a little banli of 
 earth, and sat there in a kind of sullen anguish. 
 But her daughter was already kneeling by the 
 side of the lad, and supporting his head on her 
 knee, glad to find he was recovering from the 
 stupor in which he had been plunged by the 
 merciless blow. 
 
 " Be that you, Miss Isabel," he said at last. 
 " What's been the matter ? I thought all the 
 stars in the sky were dancing in my head. I 
 feels very bad. My hand's wet where I touched 
 my forehead. It's blood ! dear ! O dear ! " 
 
 While they were all three in this state of 
 agitation the young maiden heard another step, 
 and with beating heart she looked round. It 
 was a man — a young man — who approached, 
 walking more and more rapidly as he saw the 
 group before him dimly through the dusk, and 
 who spoke in a friendly and pleasant voice that 
 came with a sense of inexpressible relief to the 
 poor women. 
 
 " What is the matter ? " said the stranger, who 
 seemed to be breathless, as if with great exertion 
 in trying to come up to them. 
 
 *' We have been robbed ; and our driver, a
 
 26 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 lad, has been knocked down, and, I fear, much 
 injured." 
 
 " What sort of a man was he who robbed 
 
 you?" 
 
 " We couldn't see very well, and we were so 
 dreadfully frightened ; but I thought he seemed 
 to have deformed arms, they appeared so short 
 and strong." 
 
 He made no comment on this, but, after a 
 pause, said, 
 
 " There is a halfway house, I'm told, about a 
 mile or so further on. Suppose I drive you 
 there, and then come back for the lad ? We are 
 near the turn of the hill, I believe, where the 
 way gets easier." 
 
 There was no immediate answer, so the speaker 
 added, 
 
 " I am only a piano-tuner seeking jobs. You 
 needn't fear me. Pray don't be frightened." 
 
 "Yes, Bella, we cannot do better. There's 
 honesty in the young man's voice. But let's all 
 go together. I think we can manage with John 
 sitting on the bottom and leaning against us, if 
 the young man will be good enough to drive the 
 horse." 
 
 ** I shall be glad to help you in any way," said 
 the stranger, simply. 
 
 And as they went along he was very silent, as
 
 THE TURN OF THE HELL. 27 
 
 if listening to their conversation ; though he had 
 always a prompt and cheerful reply ready when 
 either of them spoke to him. Minute by minute, 
 as the wheels moved slowly round, the fears of 
 the women passed away, and they began to 
 narrate to him, or to comment between them- 
 selves, on what had passed, till they all three 
 seemed to know each other like old acquaintances. 
 
 On parting at the halfway inn, Mrs. Maxfield 
 wanted to give him money — forgetting she had 
 lost her purse ; but he smiled, and said he should 
 be well repaid with a shake of the hand, which 
 she gave him very cordially. 
 
 " Come and see us at Northope," she said to 
 him. " Our piano needs looking to, and I think 
 I can recommend you to some of my neighbours. 
 We shall be glad to give you house-room and 
 board while you look about. You have rendered 
 us a great service, and you won't find me un- 
 grateful." 
 
 " Thank you, perhaps I may come," he said, 
 in a curiously constrained tone of voice. 
 
 Isabel, too, had been thinking to herself she 
 would say something of her grateful feeling ; but, 
 somehow, she could only put out her hand and 
 murmur, 
 
 " Good-bye ; I shall never forget this night — 
 I mean your kindness."
 
 28 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 It miglit have been the shadows of the boughs 
 flickering over the young man's face, but Bella 
 fancied its careless, half-scornful expression dis- 
 appeared while he held her hand, and gave place 
 to one that became him much better, or at all 
 events one with which she ever afterwards tried 
 to remember him. It was a look partly of tender 
 respect and admiration, and partly it was a look 
 of trouble and regret, which out ofi pride he 
 strove to conceal. Suddenly he said, 
 
 " Good-bye ! If you do ever forget to-night, I 
 shanH. But of course you will. Good-bye ! " 
 
 Before Isabel could say another word, if she 
 had been inclined to do so, he was gone.
 
 CHAPTER TV. 
 
 RINGING THE ALARM-BELL. 
 
 About midnight — that is to say several hours 
 after the events recorded in our last chapter — 
 two men issued through a window in the base- 
 ment of Squire Gorman's mansion which stood 
 about a mile or so distant from " The Traveller's 
 Joy ;" and, although each of them carried a bulky 
 and seemingly weighty package in a green baize 
 bag, they began to run fast across the park towards 
 the open country, which could be dimly distin- 
 guished through the faint light by the absence of 
 the black masses that in every other direction 
 indicated the neighbouring woods. 
 
 For some time not a word was spoken between 
 them, as though they felt it necessary to con- 
 centrate all their powers into the one effort — 
 speedy flight. 
 
 They had scarcely advanced a quarter of a 
 mile when they heard the clang of the hall bell 
 ringing a most unmistakable alarm. Looking
 
 30 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 back, they saw lights flitting across the windows. 
 Presently they could distinguish shouts. Yes, 
 they were being pursued : and the conviction of 
 that fact seemed to give new impetus; so on 
 again they went, still in silence, for another half 
 mile or more. 
 
 " I say, Nobby Bob, you must give them 
 better leg-bail than this," observed one voice, 
 which we regret to have to state was the very 
 voice that had seemed so winning to Mr. Thomas 
 Jessop, the giant landlord, and to Mrs. Maxfield 
 and Mrs. Maxfield's beautiful daughter. 
 
 " That's easy for you to say ; but I'm getting 
 blown a'ready, through startin' too fast. Alius 
 take care o' yer wind. Softly, young un ; softly, 
 Gent Eube." 
 
 " Not that way ! " suddenly cried the young 
 man who was thus addressed. " Don't you see 
 there's some wall or stoppage at the bottom." 
 
 *' By the living jingo, so there is ! " panted 
 Nobby Bob. 
 
 " Give me your bundle for a bit, I can carry 
 both." 
 
 " Not if I knows it, Gent Kube ; not if I 
 knows it. Every man to his own belongings." 
 
 " See, there's the end of the park ; let's dash 
 through the plantation and climb the wall." 
 
 On they went, fast as the heavy bundles they
 
 RINGING THE ALARM-BELL. 31 
 
 carried would permit, till they got to the wall, 
 which was high but covered with ivy. Nobby 
 Bob put his bundle on the grass and began to 
 mount, but wherever he planted his heavy boot 
 the ivy gave way, and made him graze his hands 
 and nose, with great injury also to his temper. 
 
 Gent Rube then tried, and ascended the wall 
 with the agility of a wild cat, and there seated 
 himself astride and received the bundles in 
 succession and dropped them on the other side ; 
 then, balancing himself upon the wall and clasp- 
 ing it with his lithe wiry limbs, he held out his 
 hand, saying, 
 
 " Now, Nobby Bob, put your toe between the 
 cracks, anywhere but for a single instant, and I'll 
 have you up and tumbling over before you have 
 time to think better of it and fall back.^' 
 
 " Look out !" was Nobby Bob's only answer. 
 In an instant he found himself at the top, and 
 obliged to let himself slide over and fall heavily 
 to the ground on account of his loss of balance 
 through the suddenness of Gent Rube's opera- 
 tions. Lightly and laughingly the young man 
 dropped on to the ferny heath, and then the 
 bundles were snatched up, and the two were 
 again sweeping along under the wild but not 
 dark midnight sky, towards a wood they saw 
 some miles distant on an eminence; being, in-
 
 32 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 deed, the same hill as that on which Mrs. Max- 
 field and her daughter had heen waylaid. 
 
 Although by degrees the sounds of the alarm- 
 bell died out from their ears, as they got further 
 and further off, they soon^became aware that the 
 whole country was being raised about them. If 
 they came at all near a road (as they more than 
 once did, without intending it) they could hear 
 the clattering of horses' feet, and men shouting 
 to one another by their names. At one part they 
 even came almost face to face with a mounted 
 policeman, a knowing fellow, who waited in grim 
 silence under a dark hedge at the end of a little 
 gully running straight across the heath and 
 opening into the road. Just as he had expected, 
 the moment the robbers had struck upon this 
 gully they had determined to keep to it, so that 
 they might not be visible to any neighbouring 
 eyes. But " Gent Rube " was on his guard ; 
 and, perceiving by various indications that the 
 gully was changing its character, he put out his 
 hand in silence to warn his companion ; and the 
 two then went slowly and cautiously feeling their 
 way, till the young man's quick eyes saw the 
 statue -like man and horse keeping watch and 
 ward under the trees, and he even caught a 
 glimpse of the steel of the scabbard as the 
 horseman's cloak was moved by the light breeze.
 
 RINGING THE ALARM-BELL. 33 
 
 When they had got off to a considerable dis- 
 tance in another direction, but still towards the 
 wood which stretched out very far upon the 
 horizon, Nobby Bob whispered, in his hoarse 
 tones, - 
 
 " We'll never get away with all this swag/* 
 
 " I've been thinking so myself." 
 
 " They're everywhere barkin on our heels," 
 
 " Yes, and will grab us if you blow your bel- 
 lows so hard. Why, you might be a steam- 
 engine, only you're so precious slow]" 
 
 " It^s all through that varmint of a flunkey. 
 His heart mis guv him at the last moment, and 
 so, instead of kivering our retreat, as he had 
 promised, what does he do but makes up a nice 
 little bag of his own, and makes off with it, 
 without waiting for us or giving us a word of 
 warnin'. Wont I slit his wizen for him if ever 
 we consort agin ! " 
 
 " But what's to be done now, Xobby Bob, if 
 you really canH go any further ? " 
 
 " They^d best not touch me. I shall give 
 them an ugly grip or gash." 
 
 " Yes, and get lagged for life or sent up the 
 tree. Come, come, none of that talk. It don't 
 suit my digestion.*' 
 
 " Speak yourself, if you know what's better." 
 
 " Well, then, stop here among the fern, while
 
 34 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 I look out. Take both the bundles. Lie down 
 and make yourself as comfortable as you can 
 till I come back." 
 
 Nobby Bob, though unused to be commanded, 
 felt it best to submit. So he lay down and 
 buried himself and the two bundles among the 
 fern, while Gent Rube ran with all the fleetness 
 of a hare on and upwards towards the wood. 
 Noticing with careful eye the positions of the 
 scattered trees, so that he might retrace his 
 route, he got into the wood and penetrated some 
 distance in various directions without seeing a 
 house or shed, or any token of human habitation 
 or of the vicinity of a road. As well as he could 
 guess, he was standing several miles away from 
 the road, which kept perpetually rising to his 
 inner sight as the one along which he had driven 
 Bella Maxfield, a name that he frequently re- 
 peated to himself as if out of it he ought to be 
 able to draw the knowledge he so much thirsted 
 for — that is, some idea of the nature and mental 
 life of a virtuous young woman, which seemed as 
 yet an impenetrable mystery to him after his 
 very different experience. 
 
 He now began to wander about among the 
 trees, having first again looked to the means for 
 finding his way back to the same part of the 
 wood where he had entered ; and, after a search
 
 BINGING THE ALAEM-BELL. 35 
 
 that seemed fearfully long to him, considering 
 the dangers that threatened him and his comrade, 
 he came to a group of very old oaks, and imme- 
 diately began to run close round them, eagerly 
 examining their decayed and hollow trunks. At 
 last he found one which seemed thoroughly to 
 satisfy him. Not content with such an exami- 
 nation as the dim light would permit fi-om the 
 outside, he got in and felt all about it with his 
 hands, and then came quickly out and set off on 
 his way back, which he found with perfect ease 
 by the marks he had so carefully fixed in his 
 mind. 
 
 The men soon reached the tree. They both 
 got into it, for there was plenty of room; and 
 then, before Nobby Bob knew what his com- 
 panion was about, he heard him clambering 
 above his head, felt his teeth shaken by a kick 
 from Gent Rube's sprawling legs, and then, amid 
 a volley of execrations from himself, heard the 
 other cry to him, 
 
 " Up with the swag ! Here's a place hollowed 
 out where we might leave it for a month, and 
 nobody be the wiser." 
 
 "Eh?" said Nobby Bob, while revolving in 
 his mind the propriety of the course suggested. 
 
 " Now then, look alive, will you ? " exclaimed 
 Gent Rube ; but his companion swore that he 
 
 D 2
 
 »S6 ONE AGAINST THE WOELD. 
 
 must have a look at the bundles first, so Gent 
 Rube descended to witness the examination. 
 
 Nobby Bob lighted a little piece of wax taper 
 that he always carried about with him as a part 
 of his stock in trade, and shaded the flame with 
 his hand for a moment till Gent Rube took up a 
 position half in half out of the tree, so that he 
 could prevent the light from being seen in the 
 only exposed direction. 
 
 What a sight that would have been for the 
 owner, if only he could have made one of the 
 party. The ground within the tree seemed 
 almost lighted up with the gold, and silver, and 
 gems that those two wonderful bundles gave 
 forth. At each fresh display Nobby Bob took 
 hold of the article, held it up to get as much 
 light on it as possible, and then grunted his 
 satisfaction, while Gent Rube was silent, for him 
 a most unusual thing. There were cups, and 
 flagons, and saltcellars of solid silver and lined 
 with burnished gold ; there was a magnificent 
 race cup (a prize) ; there was a diamond neck- 
 lace ; there was a bracelet of gold set with all 
 sorts of precious stones, which twinkled in answer 
 to the twinkling of Nobby Bob's eyes, who grew 
 at last silent also, and seemingly composed, as if 
 engaged in some mental arithmetic of an absorb- 
 ing kind.
 
 RINGING THE ALARM-BELL. 37 
 
 " WeU, Nobby Bob, what's the total ? " asked 
 Gent Eube. 
 
 Nobby Bob seemed to grow strangely modest 
 in his answer. He *' couldn't very well tell. 
 They mightn't all be genu-ine." 
 
 " Gammon ! " suggested Gent Bube, who knew 
 perfectly well what was coming. 
 
 " I didn't say they were sham, did I ! '' 
 savagely asked the guardian of the plunder. 
 " How much now out of this yer do you ex- 
 pect?" 
 
 " Well, I should say, old Levy, the fence 
 master, will give five or six hundred to melt 
 down the plate and reset the gems." 
 
 " Should you ? Then I shouldn't. Three 
 hundred 'ud be a deal nigher the mark." 
 
 *' Hundred and fifty a-piece, you mean ? " 
 
 ** Yes.'' 
 
 ** And if I let you sell the whole for what you 
 like you'll guarantee me a hundred and fifty ? 
 All on the square, mind you ! " 
 
 *' I wHl." 
 
 " Done ! '' 
 
 " Done ! " and they both shook hands on it. 
 
 And then it was arranged that they should 
 leave the whole in the tree for a week ; that they 
 should go off in difi'erent directions as far away 
 as possible ; and then meet in quite different
 
 38 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 dresses at nightfall, at the end of the week, to 
 take the plunder to a railway station twenty 
 miles off, whence they could easily get to London. 
 Once back again in their quarters, Nobby Bob 
 undertook without delay to give his " pal " the 
 agreed sum, and make the best of his bargain 
 and risk afterwards. And Gent Rube, knowing 
 his companion either had or could get " capital " 
 when he Avanted, agreed. 
 
 " Now then, up with the swag if you like/' 
 said Nobby Bob. So the precious articles were 
 again all packed up in two bundles, and with 
 extreme care, that they might not jingle during 
 the carriage. Then Gent Rube mounted aloft 
 and had the bundles lifted up to him and depo- 
 sited in the hollow he had previously spoken of. 
 
 There was a large hole in the trunk on the 
 opposite side which admitted some light, and 
 would, no doubt, in the daytime admit a great 
 deal more, and might thus expose the bundles to 
 observation if any one got into the tree trunk 
 and looked up. So Gent Rube descended and 
 went outside to look about him. He found a 
 strong sapling growing within two or three yards, 
 which sent out branches that reached and partly 
 enveloped the old oak. Leaping up, he caught 
 one of the longest, and managed, after two or 
 three trials, to force the end through the hole
 
 .RINGING THE ALARM-BELL. 39 
 
 and get it so well in that he found it did not 
 come out again even when he shook the sapling 
 and bent it to and fro as much as any ordinary 
 wind could. He then went back to the hiding- 
 place and found he could see nothing above. 
 Then he put up his hands, and felt everywhere a 
 complete roof of foliage which must effectually 
 check suspicion of a hiding-place above. 
 
 Nobby Bob chuckled a good deal over this 
 dodge, and seemed inclined to be proud of his 
 pupil. 
 
 ** Ay, my boy, I've larned you a thing or two 
 since we first met in that slap-up fashionable 
 square at the West-end, when you were roaming 
 about, a half-starved boy, telling everybody how 
 your mother was just dead, and that you hadn't 
 no victuals and no home.^' 
 
 " Well, never mind that now, Nobby Bob. 
 Light your pipe, and let's have a bit of talk. 
 V\e got something to say to j^ou." 
 
 They both lighted their short pipes, and, as 
 they began to smoke, the elder man said, 
 
 " Fire away, mate, I shall be asleep soon. I 
 always get sleepy when a job's done, and I feel 
 safe." 
 
 " What made you slip off from that fat giant s 
 without a word or a nod ? When, too, it was so 
 important to keep him sweet on us ? "
 
 40 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 " I got a signal from the flunkey outside — and 
 as he wouldn't come in, I were obligated to go 
 out." 
 
 " And then ? " 
 
 *' I did a little business just to keep my hands 
 in till dark." 
 
 *' And the swag ? " 
 
 Nobby Bob grumbled something about for- 
 getting that — but began to bring it all out of his 
 pockets, knowing such things were points of 
 honour. The moment Gent Eube saw the locket 
 he took it up, beheld the face of a rosy-cheeked, 
 stout farmer, turned it round, and saw a miniature 
 of Isabel Maxfield, evidently recently taken. As 
 he gazed on it as though every moment some 
 new quality in the painting or the fair original 
 struck him, Nobby Bob proposed that his "pal" 
 should keep it and the young lady's purse too 
 (which contained very little), while he would take 
 the watch and the other purse (which contained 
 a good deal), Nobby Bob professing it was all a 
 lottery ; for he hadn't, he said, had a chance of 
 looking inside either of them. 
 
 Gent Eube smiled, and accepted the offer. 
 Then went on, 
 
 ■ "Well, now. Nobby Bob, listen to me. It's 
 quite true what you've told me a good many 
 times, you picked me up when I was half starving
 
 RINGING THE ALAHM-BELL. 41 
 
 in London streets, and when I was so miserable 
 I didn't much care what became of me. I 
 wasn't a thief before that, except in little ways, 
 and I stole only of my poor mother — God in 
 heaven bless her I But you praised my skill, 
 tickled my fancy with the idea of all sorts of 
 delights long coveted but never before possible 
 to me; taught me every bit of rascality that 
 could be at all useful ; made me in a few months 
 so accomplished, that whether as a wyre, a 
 flymper, a snyde pitcher, a magsman, or a cracks- 
 man, you boasted at last nobody could beat 
 Gent Rube. You promised me that in due time 
 I should be a tip -topper, and stand apart as a 
 prince among thieves, doing business only on 
 the largest scale and as befitting a gentleman. 
 
 " By degrees I found out that I was profitable 
 to you ; and by degrees. Nobby Bob, you found 
 out that I began to discover my value, and de- 
 clined to stand any cockcrowing over me. Still, 
 you must acknowledge I've pulled a good many 
 fine chestnuts out of the fire for you, while 
 you didn't endanger the tips of your blessed 
 fingers. 
 
 " Well, Nobby Bob, to make a long story 
 short and let us get away from this tree before 
 daybreak, I've been thinking a good deal of late 
 about the doctrine of chances that you were so
 
 42 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 learned about when showing me a few clever 
 tricks at cards. I've been applying the know- 
 ledge to my own future ; and I must own, Nobby 
 Bob, I don't at all like the prospect. 
 
 " I'm clever, ycu say ; and it's a pity such 
 tahnt should be lost to the profession. Well, 
 but clever men somehow do get on in the world 
 without picking pockets, or thinking night and 
 day how they shall behave in the prison-van, 
 or before the beak, or behind the rue at the Old 
 Bailey. I'm not going to turn canter. I've 
 had no Methodee at me, nor been reading tracts 
 late at night ; but the plain truth is, I am tired 
 of this kind of war upon the world, and Fm 
 going to see if I can't conclude a treaty of 
 peace. 
 
 " Now remember, Nobby Bob, you promised 
 me before you knew all this, and when you only 
 knew I wanted to be off somewhere to do some- 
 thing or other different, you promised me that if 
 I helped you to work a good put-up job, one 
 better than any we yet had, that you'd help me 
 off without fuss, so that the other fellows should 
 think me dead, or transported, or emigrated. 
 Now's the time. I've done my last job to-night; 
 and I want you to be a man of your word, and 
 help me. That's it." 
 
 " You're a fool !" was Nobby Bob's first
 
 RINGING THE ALARM-BELL. 43 
 
 and slowly- made reply. But, seeing Gent Eube 
 took no notice, he said, 
 
 " War ! You call it war, what you've been 
 a doin^ do you ? Young 'un, hearken to me, 
 and tell me this. "Which is best, to suck or be 
 sucked ? — to make that 'ere blessed thing called 
 society always a fearin' on you, and supportin' 
 you well on the very fat of the land, or to go a 
 shiverin' about, poor an' miserable, trying to be 
 good ? you spooney ! And to have everybody 
 for ever a makin' war on you because o' your 
 poverty ? I'm ashamed on you. I thought you 
 had more sperrit." 
 
 "Well, Nobby Bob, I shall do it." 
 
 "You won't." 
 
 " Won't ! Come, then, we had best settle 
 affairs on a different basis. I'm off our bargain. 
 You divide the swag into two portions, as equally 
 as you can, and then I'll take my choice. Or 
 I'll divide and you shall choose." 
 
 As Nobby Bob said nothing, but sucked away 
 at his pipe at an alarming rate, Gent Rube got 
 up to reach down the plunder ; but he was 
 caught round the waist by those short, strong 
 arms, and almost paralysed by the clasp. 
 
 "Let go, or" Nobby Bob, a moment 
 
 after, felt the point of a knife in his throat, and 
 he let go, with a hoarse laugh.
 
 44 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 " What ! can't stand a lark ? '' 
 
 Gent Eube made no answer, but, disengaging 
 himself from the tree, stood outside. 
 
 " Now, Nobby Bob, is it too late for a good 
 understanding ? " 
 
 " What the do you want ? " 
 
 *' That you swear to me if I give you up the 
 whole of this night's work, which I am willing to 
 do out of love of you " — here he laughed — " and 
 which I know to be worth at least twice as much 
 as you told me, — will you then swear that you 
 will treat me as a dead man henceforth, no 
 matter where you see or how you hear of me ? 
 Swear that, and I will not look for a single shil- 
 ling out of all you have now got.'* 
 
 ** And if I leave the swag here to-night what's 
 to pervent you coming afore the time, and " 
 
 " We must trust each other to some extent. 
 If I fail in my part you are at liberty to fail in 
 yours, and expose me when you can.'' 
 
 " Put that knife away, will you ? — and I'll do 
 it." 
 
 " Ay, but swear." 
 
 " Did I ever break my word with you ? '* 
 
 " Well, no, not when it was quite certain and 
 beyond all question what the word meant. But 
 I mean to have your word first. Swear, then, 
 you will treat me as one dead from to-night."
 
 RINGING THE ALARM-BELL. 45 
 
 Nobby Bob did swear ; and in terms that we 
 should not care to repeat in these pages. Then 
 he added, 
 
 " And here's my bunch o' fives on't." 
 
 So they shook hands. 
 
 " You're not going ? " demanded Nobby Bob. 
 
 "At once, Good-by. You'll find your way 
 in that direction, as I must in this." 
 
 "Well, it's nice to leave a pal like this. How- 
 ever, if it must be, good-by, Gent Eube." 
 
 " Good-by, and harkye, Nobby Bob, to a verse 
 of a song we hearcj once together. Don't be 
 frightened. I'm not going to make a row." So 
 saying, Gent Bube hummed, in a low, rich, 
 musical voice, with admirable expression, a verse 
 from a flash song, running thus : — 
 
 ^' A cross eov€ * is in the street for me, 
 And I a poor girl of a low degree ; 
 If I was as rich as I am poor, 
 Ye never should go on the cross no more. " 
 
 The last two lines he seemed to repeat two or 
 three times with peculiar unction. 
 
 *' If I was as rich as I am poor, 
 Ye never should go on the cross no mere," 
 
 " Good-by, Nobby Bob ! " 
 
 • A thief:
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 DIFFERENCES OF OPINION. 
 
 As Gent Rube took his way through the wood, 
 and Nobby Bob sucked his pipe in the tree with 
 increasing vehemence, a somewhat noticeable 
 difference of opinion on recent transactions cha- 
 racterised their cogitations ; and it may not be 
 altogether useless to bring their inward com- 
 ments together, very much as they would have 
 been heard if any human faculty could have 
 listened to both at the same moment of time. 
 
 *' The mean spirited hound ! to take all and 
 let me go naked into the world after what I have 
 done for him," thought Gent Rube. 
 
 " The varmint ! to bring me all these miles 
 away from home, and leave me here with the 
 swag, and make off with his precious carcass to a 
 place of safety," muttered Nobby Bob, as he took 
 his pipe out of his mouth, and pushed the burning 
 tobacco further into the bowl with his hard, un- 
 shrinking finger.
 
 DrFFERENCES OF OPINION. 47 
 
 *' It was well I had made up my mind to give 
 up all if I saw bim cantankerous ; for it is plain 
 now that that was the only bribe that would have 
 quieted him and made him consent to let me go," 
 thought Gent Eube, as he stopped on reaching 
 an open glade, wondering whether he had best 
 take the right footpath or the left, but determin- 
 ing on the former. 
 
 " If I'd known he'd been so sharp with his 
 knife I'd a lamed him another wrinkle to stick 
 on to them as I larned him before," thought 
 Nobby Bob. 
 
 " Well, you are as poor as a rat to begin your 
 new life. That's an ugly fact for you, Master 
 Gent Rube, particularly after the pleasant little 
 arrangement you made for beginning so very 
 snugly, with a few pounds in pocket, and a good 
 many pounds hidden away, but come-at-able 
 whenever wanted. Yes, that little delusion's 
 over. Poor as a rat ! And no chance that I can 
 see of helping myself for a pretty long while. It's 
 no use being a fool, and expecting what won't 
 happen. It's hard work, and no indulgence just 
 now, and no mistake." Thus continued Gent 
 Kube in his thoughts, making a new stop as he 
 saw he was drawing near the edge of the wood. 
 
 " And what's the varmint arter, after all ? He 
 goin to live on the square ! Ay, about as much
 
 48 ONE AGAINST THE WOELD. 
 
 as I am. No ; I know what's o'clock as well as 
 he does. He wanfs to get away from me — the 
 varmint 1 That's what it means. Ay, and most 
 like he has got another put-up job in view, so 
 good that he can afford to play his high mighti- 
 ness about this one. What a hidiot I was not to 
 think of that afore 1 Stop a bit 1 Can't I join 
 in that ere game, or spoil his if he pervents ? O' 
 course I can. If he lied about what he was goin 
 to do, that's enough to clear up all the pints of 
 honour about which he's always been so precious 
 noisy." Such w^ere Nobby Bob's discontented 
 and suspicious views. IMeantime Gent Rube 
 ■continued thus: — 
 
 "Well, the job's done; and now to see what 
 I'm worth, I don't pretend to humbug myself. 
 I don't pretend to be honest, but I am inclined 
 to take a favoui^ble view of Master Gent Rube's 
 desire to know by experience what honesty means, 
 how honest people feel, and whether it is really 
 practicable in this old England of ours (whi-ch 
 nurses us all, honest men and thieves alike) to 
 live and develop one's talents, if one has got any, 
 without what the law so unpleasantly calls rob- 
 bery. Yes, I'm glad it's come to this, though I 
 own I shiver a bit at the prospect when it begins 
 to look real. Come, here ends^the wood ; and so 
 farewell— a last farewell— to thee my own jewel
 
 DIFFERENCES OF OPIN'ION. 49 
 
 of a * pal ! ' Farewell, thou lying, swindling, 
 mean-spirited, base-hearted scoundrel, who hast 
 done so much to make me discontented with my 
 calling ! Farewell, once more, my Nobby Bob ! 
 Thank goodness, I have got rid of you ! " 
 
 " Yes, he's a nice un, for a young un, sartinly ! 
 The varmint ! Now I sees it all. What an ass 
 I was ! Why, he's doing me in style every way ; 
 and o' course he's ' charmed,' as he says some- 
 times, with my exceedingly accomraodatin' dispo- 
 sition. I leave the swag here safe while he goes 
 to another and better job, and as soon as that's 
 performed he comes back, afore the week's out, 
 and saves me all further trouble about the dis- 
 posing of things ! Well, for a young un, he is 
 sartinly tiptop ! Stop a bit, my covey ; lam a 
 bit more from Nobby Bob afore you gets out of 
 the go-cart and forgets your time o^ lollypop." 
 
 Nobby Bob pursues no more the unconscious 
 dialogue in which he has been a sharer, for he is, 
 to his thinking, better employed. With a grin 
 on his face, which would not improve it to any 
 bystander if there were light enough to do it jus- 
 tice, he is climbing up for the treasures over- 
 head ; and, though he does manage to get the 
 bundles safely down, he gi'azes face, fingers, and 
 knees so badly in tlfe process that he lets fly a 
 volley of oaths loud enough to have brought the 
 
 TOL L E
 
 50 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 police on him had they been at all nigh. But his 
 movements are undisturbed. By the light of his 
 curling wax taper the grim smile again is seen 
 playing over his face as he writes with a pencil a 
 word or two on a scrap of paper, and rolls the 
 scrap carefully round a piece of stick, and then 
 rolls that up again neatly in a handkerchief, so 
 that the package, when deposited in the hollow, 
 shall not accidentally escape the hand or eye of 
 the searcher who may hereafter come to the tree 
 for the plunder. 
 
 Nobby Bob laughs to himself a good deal in 
 his low sniggering way at this part of his labours; 
 and, when he has made up his package and pushed 
 it through the roof of leaves from the crossing- 
 branch (which Gent Rube had forced in through 
 the hole in the trunk) till it rested in the hollow 
 in place of the green baize bundles, he begins to 
 prepare to move oif by binding the bundles to- 
 gether, so that they may be slung across his 
 shoulder, one hanging in front and one behind, 
 as he goes. And then he waits impatiently for 
 daybreak. It arrives at last faint and fair. As 
 soon as the robber can see and distinguish ob- 
 jects fifty 3'ards before him, he rises to his feet. 
 But before he leaves his place of shelter he has 
 an important business to go through, which de- 
 serves the respect of a new chapter.
 
 CHAPTER yi. 
 
 NOBBY bob's toilet. 
 
 You would not have thought, to look at him, 
 that this worthy and estimable gentleman ever 
 troubled himself much about his personal appear- 
 ance ; but in so doing you would have done him 
 great injustice. It is quite true that a dirty com- 
 plexion, dirty-looking, frowzy hair, both unplea- 
 santly suggestive of a dirty mind, were his 
 ordinary characteristics; but as artists when 
 they paint a portrait consider it only right to 
 take a man or a woman in their happiest mo- 
 ments, and consider it no flattery, so we will 
 study Nobby Bob's conduct in matters of the 
 toilet at the only time when he thinks them worthy 
 of attention. Clearly such is the case now. He 
 takes off his glossy silk hat, looks at it a moment 
 savagely, then with his two strong meeting hands 
 crushes the sides together, tiQ the hat becomes 
 almost as flat as a pancake, and presents a pic- 
 ture that would make anybody but the unfortu- 
 
 £ 2 
 
 UBRAKT 
 
 UNiVERSin OF ILUNUU^
 
 62 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 nate owner smile ; then opening it out, he sets 
 it on the ground ; and plants, suddenly, one 
 heavy foot upon it, and produces a different kind 
 of flattening, but one equally amusing in its re- 
 sult to any but the gentleman who paid four 
 shillings and ninepence for it in a lane running 
 out of one of the chief London streets a few days 
 before. He now looks forth from the tree, spies 
 a little muddy hollow where water had settled 
 during rains, hunts about till he finds a stone, 
 which he drops into the ill-used hat, and then 
 drops both into the pool, where they disappear. 
 
 A little flannel cap is now brought forth from 
 some secret pocket in the coat and put on the 
 head ; and while it seems to suit the head better 
 than the hat had done, it is scarcely a paradox 
 to observe that the ill-favoured hard countenance 
 seems now brought out into bolder rehef than 
 ever by the new head-gear. 
 
 The coat is next taken off", and the sleeves 
 turned inside out, which are lined with white 
 flannel. The trousers and waistcoat undergo 
 exactly the same process of turning inside out, 
 and in two minutes the genteel black has alto* 
 gether disappeared, and Nobby Bob stands there? 
 in light-coloured trousers and vest, and white 
 shirt sleeves, already a greatly altered man. 
 
 And now he takes forth from another pocket
 
 NOBBY bob's toilet. 53 
 
 in that extraordinary coat a little mirror, and 
 thoughtfully surveys his image in the glass. 
 
 *' No barbers, I suj^pose, in this here neigh- 
 bourhood. Must do the best I can/^ he says to 
 himself; and with manly decision he sets to work 
 clipping off with a pair of scissors the long, 
 starveling, and muddy-looking beard and mous- 
 tache which he has been carefully cultivating of 
 late (his usual practice before a good " put up ''). 
 Having done his best to make his lace and chin 
 as smooth as possible, he dives once more into 
 the recesses of the coat, which lies on the ground 
 by his side, and brings out a little box, seemingly 
 of ointment or pomade, and scoops out with his 
 thick forefinger an unctuous lump, which he be- 
 gins to rub over the hair of his face and the hain 
 of his head, till, wonderful to say, they become 
 quite black. Evidently Nobby Bob is master of 
 some valuable secrets for the toilet. 
 
 He now touches up his eyebrows, and other 
 weak and shabby-looking places, and then goes 
 to the pool where his hat lies, and, dipping his 
 handkerchief into the water, begins with the aid 
 of his glass, to clear away the black smears from 
 his complexion, till he sees, after repeated efforts, 
 and repeated lookings at his little glass, that he 
 is perfect — absolutely perfect ! 
 
 Now he puts on his coat, tui'ned inside out ;
 
 64 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 and we must own that, if we hadn't watched the 
 whole process, we should have been inclined to 
 doubt whether this was after all our own genuine 
 Nobby Bob, so great is the effect of the change 
 from black clothes and light-coloured hair, to 
 extremely light-coloured clothes and jetty locks 
 and beard. 
 
 Putting on his cap, and doubling deeply inwards 
 the edges of his cuffs, to prevent the black cloth 
 from showing, he now looks like a jobbing car- 
 penter out of work; and who, you cannot but 
 fear, is likely to remain in that position if his 
 engagement depends upon the attractiveness of 
 his appearance. 
 
 Nobby Bob, however, is by no means of that 
 opinion. He takes one last lingering look at him- 
 self and his glass before putting the fiatteiing 
 utensil away, and a gleam almost allied to good- 
 humour breaks out on the rough, hard features 
 and high cheek bones ; and, no doubt, when a 
 man feels himself well dressed he is inclined to 
 take a less misanthropical view of the state of 
 things than at any other period. And so it is 
 with our friend Nobby Bob. That's all.
 
 CHAPTER YII. 
 
 NOBBY BOB DISCOVERS, UNEXPECTEDLY, A NEW 
 VOCATION. 
 
 Even Nobby Bob's bag, with prudent fore- 
 thought, had been made capable of instantaneous 
 change and of becoming less aristocratic in ap- 
 pearance by being simply turned inside out. What 
 before seemed an appendage to the genteel tra- 
 veller became now, under Nobby Bob's powerful 
 hands, a mere workman's bag for carrying tools, 
 or the dinner wrapped up in a greasy newspaper 
 or handkerchief. Taking this bag in his hand, 
 and slinging the two green baize bundles across 
 his shoulder, he began to move off, after a long 
 and careful look-out through the trees, which had 
 become clearer by the increasing light. 
 
 Keeping in a direction different from that 
 chosen by his late companion, he went on 
 through the wood, looking for another tree which 
 should present the same facilities for conceal- 
 ment as the one left behind ; but his search was
 
 66 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 vain ; and he began almost to repent of his under- 
 taking when he saw the rosy streaks of morning 
 glowing in the extreme distance under the trees ; 
 and again he felt with alarm that he ought to be 
 miles away from this dangerous neighbourhood 
 before broad daylight should bring the labourers 
 forth into the field and the travellers into the 
 road, to speculate about his business, or to give 
 information to pursuers about his course. 
 
 Besides, he was puzzled about another matter. 
 Skilful as he was in all the lore of his brother 
 rogues, he had not that intuitive sagacity which 
 enabled his quondam pupil to find his way almost 
 blindfold through difficult and little known places. 
 Nobby Bob got considerably alarmed at the idea 
 that he might hide his treasure so well that he would 
 never himself be able to find it again. To guard 
 against that he determined to go on rapidly with 
 his burden till he got to a road, and there, having 
 found some sort of landmark which could not be 
 mistaken, he would go back just a little way to a 
 spot where he might bury the swag in the ground, 
 without being out of sight of his two guiding 
 signs, the road and the landmark selected. 
 
 He did just as he had thought he would. He 
 found a blasted oak, of extraordinary aspect, 
 standing within a hundred yards of a high road, 
 which had, on the other side, in a direct line with
 
 NOBBY BOB DISCOVERS A NEW VOCATION. 57 
 
 the oak, a deserted and ruinous cottage, built of 
 the grey stone everywhere so i)lentiful on the 
 surface of the ground. These marks could not 
 fail him. 
 
 Presently he was on his knees, digging with 
 the aid of a large clasp knife, a great hole for the 
 reception of the- bundles, which, with his usual 
 wariness, he hid meanwhile under the neighbour- 
 ing fern. He became so engrossed with his occu- 
 pation, which was necessarily slow and fatiguing, 
 that he did not hear approaching footsteps ; and 
 it was with a sudden collapse of heart he heard 
 himself greeted with the salutation, 
 
 *' What's the matter, mate ? '^ 
 
 Nobby Bob, on his knees, and with the knife 
 in his right hand, glared askance as conscious 
 of a foe that must be dealt with summarily, then 
 looking up he saw a man who looked like an 
 artisan on the tramp for work, and who seemed 
 to have a cheerful, good-humoured face, as 
 seen beneath the growing but still uncertain 
 light. 
 
 " AYhat's the matter, mate ? ^' the man re- 
 peated. 
 
 " Matter ! what the should be the matter ? " 
 
 was Nobby Bob's first reply ; then, with a happy 
 inspiration, he added, " Truffles I " 
 
 " Oh ! hunting truffles. Tve heard of them,
 
 68 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 but never saw one, nor tasted one. Early work, 
 mate." 
 
 "Yes," grunted Nobby Bob. 
 
 " I thought — leastways I know I've been told 
 — that truffles were found generally under beech- 
 trees ; now this yer is an oak." 
 
 *' Ain't it rayther late in lifo, young man, to 
 begin to teach your grandmother to suck eggs,'' 
 was Nobby Bob's contemptuous and only reply ; 
 made, however, after a considerable pause for 
 previous reflection. 
 
 " Well," said the man, laughing, " that's quite 
 true. Of course you know all about it, and I 
 just know nothing — except about soles and upper 
 leathers, and sticking to my last, and don't (as 
 you see) very well understand that." 
 
 " Shoemaker on the tramp ? " 
 
 " Ay, worse luck. I've been sleeping here in 
 the wood all night — at the ruinous cottage over 
 there, across the road — got tipsy at the last vil- 
 lage I passed through yesterday, spent every 
 copper I had over the score, and then the shabby 
 vagabond of a landlord wouldn't give me a bed 
 imless I paid in advance." 
 
 " Oh, well, I bin in distress m3^self," said 
 Nobby Bob, " and knows the vally of a shilling. 
 There, mate ; pay me again if you ever see me, 
 and have got it to spare.''
 
 NOBBY BOB DISCOVERS A NEW VOCATION. 59 
 
 " Many thanks, old fellow ; but I wouldn't have 
 you rely on getting your shilling hack. I shall 
 get help at the next town, and then take rail to 
 my own place, Liverpool." 
 
 " Very well. Leave it to my heirs in your will, 
 if they should ever turn up." 
 
 This produced a laugh, and the two men parted 
 good friends. 
 
 "Now," communed Nobby Bob within himself, 
 as he stood on the brink of the hole which had 
 caused him so much labour, and watched the 
 gradual disappearance of the wandering shoe- 
 maker in the distance, " now which am I to do, 
 — find another place and dig another hole, and 
 wait for a less polite visitor to come arter my 
 next reception, or levee, or drawing-room, or 
 go on with this, and get myself off out of this 
 before the whole country's awake and looking 
 Hvely?" 
 
 He paused, still gazing dubiously after the 
 retreating figure of the man ; but when it quite 
 disappeared he went to work once more, and 
 finished the hole to the requisite depth and put 
 in his bundles, and then stopped to wipe away 
 the sweat and to take a bit of quiet thought. 
 
 " If I kiver it up with mould the knowing 
 uns ud soon ferret the swag out, and I should be 
 nicely blown." He gazed about him for a
 
 60 ONE AOAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 minute or more, aud then went to where he saw 
 a patch of young fern just showing their curling 
 heads above the soil; he drew with his knife a 
 rude circle ; dug away along the line thus traced 
 to a depth of several inches, then dug away 
 beneath ; till at last he found he could remove 
 the whole mass, which he accordingly carried to 
 the hole. He then measured the depth of the 
 hole above the tops of the green baize bundles, 
 and also measured the depth of the mass of 
 transplanted fern : it was too deep. So he had 
 to pare away from the bottom, then measure 
 again ; again to pare and once more to measure, 
 before he could venture to let it into its place. 
 But it was right at last. He had then only to 
 fill in tightly with earth all round to make the 
 hole no longer discoverable to any eye that did 
 not actually know or suspect what was hidden 
 beneath, for he finished off by collecting with his 
 hands a layer of dry dust to lay over the fresh 
 mould. 
 
 " There ; that's all right at last. And now, 
 young un, look to yourself if you don't want me 
 to be a party in your new job."
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 EXCITING XniES FOR "THE TEAVELLER^S JOY." 
 
 " Glass of mild ale, young woman ! " 
 ** Here, my lass, you forgot the pipes ! " 
 *' Sixpenn'orth of brandy-and -water — cold, 
 without ! " 
 
 Such, incessantly repeated with all kinds of 
 variations, were the Babel sounds that gi'eeted 
 the ears of the giant landlord as he sat in his old 
 place on the next morning following that on which 
 we introduced him to the reader. But he seemed 
 now quite in his element — calm, methodical, and 
 able to enjoy at once his own pipe and glass, and 
 to share in the general stream of gossip, while 
 warily seeing that no one forgot to pay or was left 
 without something to pay for. 
 
 *' Here, MoUy, my beauty, more chairs ! Fetch 
 thine out of the bed-chamber, if that is really the 
 last you can find in the house. Don't be ashamed 
 on it, lass, it'U do for Johnny ; he isn't quite so 
 big and heavy as I am."
 
 63 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 Jolinny — a particularly small young man — 
 almost blushed at this public reference to him, 
 and looked out of the open window near which 
 he had been standing in the hope of a seat sooner 
 or later among the crowding guests of " The 
 Traveller's Joy/' 
 
 It is evident enough from the conversation, 
 what particular influence has brought so many 
 people together; small farmers hob-nobbing with 
 their own labourers ; and all talking in a noisy, 
 excited way ; it is the robbery of last night. Mr. 
 Thomas Jessop is, of course, frequently appealed 
 to ; and then, as he answers the questions put 
 there is an instantaneous hush through the place, 
 every one feeling so much interest in the land- 
 lord's talk about his guests of the previous day, 
 his suspicions, and his views of what ought to be 
 done generally for the good of society, and for the 
 particular ease of the neighbourhood under such 
 unprecedented circumstances. 
 
 In the midst of all the hubbub, and while the 
 cheerful black-eyed little wife in the bar, is resting 
 for a moment from her ceaseless labour of supply- 
 ing the wants of her customers, a boy comes in, 
 and, presuming on the general disturbance of 
 the social atmosphere, ventures to make some- 
 thing like a loud proclamation of an interesting 
 fact.
 
 EXCITING TIMES FOR " THE TRAVELLERS JOY." 63 
 
 "Mr. Jessop ! Mr. Jessop ! There's a man 
 sticking a great bill on your stable gate." 
 
 " Bun after the man and bring him here. Say 
 I've got a glass of ale for him ! " thunders out 
 the landlord, who evidently dreads a general 
 departure and break up for a time if he does 
 not make the attractions inside rival those 
 without. 
 
 The boy soon returned with a man who had 
 a bundle of newly-printed, inky-smelling bills 
 under his left arm and a paste -pot in his right 
 hand. 
 
 " Here, missus, a pint of the best ale for Billy 
 Gomm." 
 
 " Thank you, Mr. Jessop. But I musn't stop 
 long." 
 
 " Well, give us a bill, then, and go as soon as 
 you like after supping the ale. That^s the way 
 of the world, you know — get all you want out of 
 folk, and then let them go." 
 
 The man unfolded his wet bundle of paper, 
 gave a bill to the landlord, took one long draught 
 of the ale and all but finished it, then took breath 
 for a concluding effort; and, when he had drained 
 the jug, looked round upon the attentive auditory, 
 fast becoming enveloped in a dense atmosphere 
 of smoke. 
 
 ** This is a robbery, lads ! Never one like it
 
 64 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 before in these parts;" and, taking up his paste- 
 pot and bills, he went off. 
 
 Meantime the landlord had carefully and 
 lovingly opened and extended the bill, dividing 
 the great black capitals that would stick together 
 through the folding of the paper; and then, 
 as the people crowded round him, and looked 
 over one another's shoulders, they read at the 
 top, 
 
 "Fifty Pounds Keward!" 
 
 " Kead it ! read it ! ^' shouted out the less- 
 favourably situated persons in the rear. 
 
 " Ay, ay ; thatll be best. Well, then, sit 
 down all of ye. Here, missus come nigh. You 
 want to know all about this business, don't 
 you?'' 
 
 The men made room for the rosy-cheeked, 
 blushing, little, busy wife, who got close to her 
 giant husband'^s chair, and leaned over one of the 
 projecting sides ; and then Molly, who thought 
 her place must be near to her mistress, got 
 behind her skirts ; and thus, all being prepared, 
 the landlord hemmed, and began to read : — 
 
 «< * Fifty Pounds Reward ! 
 
 *** Whereas, on the night of the 15th of March 
 last, the mansion of Clement Gorman, Esq., at 
 Wickham, was broken open and burglariously
 
 EXCITING TIMES FOR 
 
 entered, and a large quantity of property in plate 
 and jewels taken away, the above reward is 
 hereby offered to any one who will give such 
 information as may lead to the conviction of the 
 offenders. The plate bears the Gorman crest, an 
 antelope couchant/ " 
 
 Mr. Thomas Jessop stopped and looked around ; 
 and, for a moment, there was an impression he 
 had finished the reading of the document ; and 
 exclamations, and remarks, and gossip were all 
 again beginning till rudely stopped by the land- 
 lord's heavy fist on the table, making the glasses 
 everywhere ring and rattle as if they had been 
 struck. 
 
 ** Listen, can't ye ? The best of it's coming." 
 And then he read on : — 
 
 " ' NOTICE ! ' 
 
 " Notice ! Mind you,", said Mr. Jessop, look- 
 ing round, " that's a heading all to itself, for I 
 thought " 
 
 "What did the landlord think? Somehow he 
 stopped, and, taking care not to look at the 
 wondering black eyes of his wife, he read on : — 
 
 " * NOTICE ! ' 
 
 " Two notices, dear ? " asked the little wife. 
 " Of course not. Do be quiet." 
 
 VOL, I. F
 
 66 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 " *It is believed that the robbery was committed 
 by one or more persons from London, aided by a 
 servant, who has absconded. Particular atten- 
 tion is directed to a man, who has been seen in a 
 neighbouring inn, about five feet five inches in 
 height, dressed respectably in black clothes, but 
 who looks as though he hadn^t been accustomed 
 to wear them. He has remarkably short arms, 
 high cheek-bones, and a very strong, unpleasant 
 expression of face ; light, sandy hair, with thin 
 beard and moustaches. He speaks in a vulgar 
 tone of voice, and is evidently a person of no 
 education. He carried, when last seen, a red 
 carpet bag, and is believed to be still lurking 
 about the neighbourhood with the plunder. 
 
 "'Information may be addressed to James 
 Turle, Esq., solicitor, Hadford, or to Mr. Thomas 
 Jessop, " The Traveller's Joy,^' who will be glad 
 to give further particulars.' " 
 
 The landlord looked bigger than ever to the 
 eyes of his guests as he finished reading the 
 document, and said, 
 
 "There, gentlemen, I think I've done his busi- 
 ness for him. Isn't he a beauty ? And haven't 
 I drawn his portrait lovingly ? " 
 
 " O, Thomas ! " said the little woman at his
 
 EXCrriXG TIMES FOR "THE TRAVELLER'S JOY." 67 
 
 side, "Did you draw up that part of the 
 biU ? " 
 
 The landlord nodded. 
 
 Mrs. Jessop wiped away a tear from her eyes 
 before she smiled her approbation to him, and 
 then turned to Molly, and said, 
 
 "D'ye hear, Molly? It was all master's 
 doing." 
 
 " Yes, Missus, I heard." And the two women 
 looked on each other and then at him. And Mr. 
 Thomas Jessop began to wonder what people 
 meant when they talked about prophets not being 
 honoured in their own country. 
 
 " Speak up, missus, before all these neighbours. 
 Didn't I tell you last night that man was a born 
 rogue ? " 
 
 "0, he did! he did!" responded the delighted 
 mistress, as she moved back again to the bar to 
 supply more glasses of brandy-and-water, cold 
 without. 
 
 How Nobby Bob would have felt if he had 
 listened to the landlord's summing-up, " Isn't he 
 a beauty ? " or to the roars of laughter and un- 
 respecting personal comments which the words 
 called forth, we are not prepared to say ; but it is 
 evident from these proceedings that that worthy 
 and estimable gentleman had not misunderstood 
 the advisabilities of his case and position when 
 
 F 2
 
 68 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 lie made his toilet in the wood, hefore presenting 
 himself once more to the eyes of his fellow- 
 men. 
 
 But there is another remarkable thing. The 
 bill says nothing about Nobby Bob's fellow- 
 traveller. Has the landlord forgotten once more 
 all his suspicions against the younger man ? Or 
 is he consciously allowing himself to be a little — 
 just a little — biassed in his proceedings by his 
 liking for the young fellow's face and general 
 behaviour ? 
 
 Perhaps the explanation may be found in a 
 letter which the landlord received before he was 
 out of bed, and which he takes out of his pocket 
 to read for the third time, after he sees his guests 
 all once more settle down in groups to their ale 
 and pipes to discuss these portentous events in 
 the history of the little village. 
 
 It is written on a thick, smooth sheet of 
 yellow note paper, and by a delicate hand, and 
 the landlord opens it with as much care and 
 tenderness as if it were a bank note of almost 
 fabulous value. 
 
 Thus the note runs : — 
 
 *' NoETHOPE, Friday nigJiL 
 
 " Dear Sir, — My mother is too ill to write 
 herself, so she wishes me to send this to you 
 immediately, so that it may reach you eai'ly
 
 EXCITING TIMES FOR THE TRAVELLER S JOT. 69 
 
 to-morrow morning. You will be grieved to 
 hear that as we were slowly driving up the 
 hill, just when we had nearly got to the top, 
 a man — O, sueh a dreadful looking wretch ! — 
 came out suddenly from the hedge, knocked 
 down our poor boy, who was leading the horse, 
 and then robbed us both of our purses, and 
 me of my watch, and mother of her locket 
 with the portrait of my father. She is almost 
 distracted with the loss and the fright. She hopes 
 you may be able to help in discovering the 
 villain, not only for the sake of punishing him, 
 but that she may get back the locket. If she 
 could only g^t the miniatures — for there are two, 
 father's and mine — she wouldn't so much mind 
 all the rest. 
 
 "I'm afraid I can't tell you much about the 
 man, it makes me shudder only to think of him, 
 for I expected ever}- instant he would murder 
 us both. I thought he had very short arms, 
 which gave him a disgusting manner that I cant 
 describe; but perhaps this was all fancy, through 
 my fright and the darkness. I think his clothes 
 were black. If you can help, we shall both be 
 very much obliged to you. Mother is quite ill, 
 and unable to go out to take any active measures. 
 " I am, dear Sir, yours sincerely, 
 
 "Bella Maxfield.
 
 70 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 " P.S. I don't know how we should have got 
 home but for a young man, a music-tuner, who 
 came up a few minutes after, having heard 
 mother's screams, and who drove us to the 
 half-way house, and was very kind. Mother 
 hopes he will come to see her, so that she may 
 thank him for the great service he rendered 
 us." 
 
 " Hum ! ha ! Hum ! ha ! " exclaimed the great 
 man, as he pondered over this letter. " So my 
 young friend in the grey clothes was not with 
 that mature piece of iniquity in the black ones 
 after leaving here ! I'm glad of that ! — very glad ! 
 What a blessing that I kept his portrait out of 
 the bill ! I wasn't very sure I was doing right to 
 be so mum about him to the Squire's steward 
 when he roused me in the middle of the night 
 and we concocted this affair. No; but now it's 
 clear ! Bless the lad ! He had nothing to do with 
 either of the robberies. I'm really glad of it. 
 Somehow, I took to him in spite of myself. And 
 now he has bewitched these poor ladies. I'm 
 greatly mistaken if Miss Bella isn't managing to 
 say one word for herself among so many for her 
 mother. Perhaps she thinks he may come this 
 way. Well, I wish he would; I'd like to know 
 more about him. Either there's a deal of good
 
 EXCITING TIMES FOR THE TRAVELLER'S JOY." 71 
 
 in that young fellow that's got to come out, or 
 else there's the craft of the old one himself for 
 making people think so. WeU, well ; I suppose 
 we shall see hy-and-by."
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Where is Gent Rube all this time ? 
 
 Well, he is lying at the base of a great rock 
 that overhangs the edge of a hill, and he is look- 
 ing with sad and dreamy eyes upon the beautiful 
 valley spread out before him : those eyes, uncon- 
 sciously to himself, are tracking the windings of 
 the silver stream that they see at intervals for 
 many miles, but which at last disappear where a 
 great mountain spur comes from the other side 
 of the valley and conceals all beyond. 
 
 Yes, he is sad and inactive just when he had 
 meant to be full of spirit and energetic deed. 
 Somehow, the serene beauty of this retired place 
 has affected him almost as with a blow, by the 
 sense of the contrast to his own past life. And 
 the thoughts of what he now sees remind him of 
 what he saw yesterday — of the fair young maiden 
 in her pale pink dress — who spoke so sweetly to
 
 GENT rube's ^nSGIVINGS. 73 
 
 him, and seemed to imagine lie was like herself, 
 pure and good. 
 
 Fool ! AMiat had he now to do with thoughts 
 of the past ? Let him look to the present — ay, 
 and with all his might, too, if he wanted to take 
 care of himself ; for would not the noise of the 
 robbery be getting abroad, and scores of busy 
 feet be now hunting the robbers ? 
 
 Well, he would once more look to that. Not 
 many persons had seen the two men together 
 since they entered the valley. He could count 
 them all upon his fingers. The shepherd boy 
 on a hillock watching the sheep, who was reading 
 a paper, when he stopped a moment to look at 
 them ; the old woman in the little plantation 
 picking up sticks, who had cui'tsied to "Nobby 
 Bob " and got a penny from his " honour ; " the 
 landlord of " The Traveller's Joy ; " the drover 
 who had come in about feed for his cattle in the 
 paddock ; and Molly : — these were literally all 
 the persons they had seen since they entered the 
 valley by a by-road the previous evening. And 
 of all these the only person who might have 
 been dangerous — the landlord — was a fixture by 
 liis hearthstone, and therefore not likely to be 
 an instrument for convicting Gent Rube of par- 
 ticipation in the late affair. 
 
 But then there was the flunkey who had ab-
 
 74 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 sconded with a part of the plunder. If he were 
 overtaken, would he not be able to point out the 
 burglars ? "Yes/' as regards Nobby Bob; "No," 
 as regards Gent Kube. The former alone had nego- 
 tiated the whole affair with the servant man ; who 
 by his own unexpected move at the last moment 
 had prevented himself from seeing the burglar^s 
 accomplice although he had known quite well some 
 extra hand would be required, and would come. 
 
 Lastly, as to Nobby Bob and the plunder. The 
 latter was safe, but even if it were discovered in 
 the tree, that mattered little, unless one of the 
 men who put it there was discovered at the same 
 time. Certainly, that would not be Gent Eube ; 
 who by no means intended to justify his com- 
 rade's suspicions of his good faith by going to 
 the tree again under any cu'cumstances. But 
 would " Nobby Bob " be equally safe ? Could 
 he get away from the country in time ? and would 
 he do so if he could, while so much treasure was 
 waiting only for his eager hand to clutch it ? 
 
 And, supposing him caught and unable to clear 
 himself, would he then have honour enough to 
 hold his tongue about his comrade, or would he 
 peach in the hope of some selfish advantage ? 
 Gent Kube grew hot in the face as he speculated 
 on these matters, and then wondered what ailed 
 him — to be for the first time in his career so
 
 GENT ErBE's MISGIYTN'GS. 75 
 
 cowardly and apprehensive. A bad beginning, 
 he thought, for his new life ? 
 
 No doubt what he ought to do was clear. He 
 should get away to some place as far from this as 
 this was from London, and which should be 
 equally remote from busy Hfe or the haunts of 
 his old companions. Yes, that was what he had 
 got to do before it was too late; before a hue and 
 cry might be raised that would effectually bar all 
 exit. 
 
 And, why then does he lie there, looking wist- 
 fully in the direction of that little village, almost 
 a town, some mile or so distant, in the bottom of 
 the valley ? — there, where he sees a grey stone 
 bridge spanning the wild stream ; a grey stone 
 church, with pointed spire, standing out on an 
 elevated moor beyond the houses ; and where his 
 eye keeps busily scanning the features of one 
 homestead, with tall trees standing about it, and 
 whence he can hear the cawing of rooks from 
 some of the black spots hovering above ? 
 
 The village is Xorthope. There, probably in 
 the elm- shaded house, one gable end of which 
 looks dark, as if covered with ivy, live Mrs. Max- 
 field and her daughter ; and to Gent Eube just 
 now there seem but two possible questions of 
 interest to humanity: shall he fly from this neigh- 
 bourhood while he can, and so be secure for the
 
 76 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 career lie meditates, or shall he risk discovery 
 and exposure — even to her — hy descending from 
 this rocky height, and going on to yonder village 
 and claiming the hospitality that had been 
 offered ? 
 
 He is a long time undecided ; and, worst of 
 all, there is an uneasy, undefinable, but very 
 depressing, sense of coming danger, paralysing 
 his will, that irritates while it alarms him. 
 
 He almost thinks he will fly, but only after he has 
 had one nearer view of the place where she lives. 
 So he begins to descend the hillside. He gets 
 nearer and nearer. He can see now right down 
 the slope of the road between the chief houses. 
 He can see a window in that grey stone ivy- 
 covered house, which has a box outside with 
 snowdrops and crocuses in bloom. But his 
 mental views get no clearer, but rather more and 
 more perplexed. At last he says suddenly, 
 
 " No matter ; I will risk it, and see her once 
 again." 
 
 And then he walked boldly on right into the 
 village, determined to ask the very first person 
 he saw to show him the way to Mrs. Maxfield's.
 
 CHAPTEE X. 
 
 GENT RUBE IN HIS FIRST HONEST HOME. 
 
 Passing from the high and heathy ground 
 downwards into the quiet village street, with its 
 solid-looking houses of grey stone, Gent Eube 
 met a woman who replied to his inquiry as to the 
 whereabouts of Mrs. Maxfield's house by pointing 
 to the one he had already, while afar off, mentally 
 selected as her abode. It lay a little back from 
 the street, and seemed to occupy a good deal of 
 ground. A gate opened into a narrow walk, 
 formed with leafless but picturesquely-branching 
 fruit-trees, having here and there between them 
 large evergreen plants of the double furze just be- 
 ginning to show blossom. This walk led straight 
 up to the end of the house, which was covered with 
 ivy and had only one window, which was glowing 
 with the double splendour of the afternoon sun, 
 and of the glow from the box of crocuses and snow- 
 drops. Below the window was a square, solid, old- 
 fashioned porch of stone, with deep stone seats.
 
 78 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 To the right a thick shrubbery came up close to 
 the house, and shut off, in that direction, the 
 sight of any other objects. On the left appeared 
 a great farmyard, with a long black barn, roofed 
 with thatch, stretching right across the space ; 
 the black surface here and there mended with 
 white boards that it had not been thought neces- 
 sary to paint. Cows were standing knee-deep in 
 straw, and looking with their usual placidity 
 towards Gent Rube as he stopped in the walk to 
 gaze about him. Pigs were also burrowing in 
 the dunghill in the corner, and starting off every 
 now and then with a grunt or squeal of discon- 
 tent as some intruder — perhaps a dog — disturbed 
 them. Across the farmyard there was a glimpse 
 of an adjoining paddock, with several fine stacks 
 of hay, and in which Gent Rube saw the grey 
 mare which had drawn the vehicle of his new 
 friends. 
 
 He had plenty of time to note all these signs of 
 homely prosperity, for he felt unwonted trepidation 
 come over him as he thoughtof himself and his true 
 position, and of the meeting that he had come to 
 seek. But he was startled from his hesitating re- 
 verie b}' a sound so unusual — so like the clang 
 of some trumpet that had been changed into a live 
 bird or animal that he looked round in sudden as- 
 tonishment. He saw then on the porch-roof a pea-
 
 GENT EUBE IN HIS FIEST HONEST HOME. 79 
 
 cock, displaying for his satisfaction all its gorgeous 
 magnificence of tail ; and then again it set up its 
 trumpet scream as if desirous to warn the inmates 
 of the house of the approach of a dangerous 
 visitor. Gent Eube laughed as this thought 
 crossed his mind ; hut in a moment more he was 
 standing in front of the porch, with his hat off, 
 and something very like a blush on his cheek, 
 for there, within the porch, at the threshold of 
 the open door stood Bella Maxfield, her face 
 flushed with pleasure, and her hands white with 
 flour, which she held up laughingly, as if to say, 
 " I can^t shake hands with you, but come in." 
 
 And Gent Eube went in after her, and crossed 
 a long and rather dark passage, then stopped 
 when she stopped, went up some steps, passed 
 through a door, and then descended by more 
 steps into a room that seemed almost magical 
 in its sudden beauty both within and without. 
 A very wide window, or combination of windows, 
 extended from the floor almost to the ceihng, 
 which had great oaken beams across ; and through 
 the window Gent Rube saw a sloping la^vn, a 
 brawling but joyous stream, and a fine wild piece 
 of heath or common, with slender pines, on the 
 other side, gently nodding to the breeze, while 
 the sun was sending rich golden gleams of hgbt 
 through them across the shadows on the ground.
 
 80 ONE AGAINST THE WOELD. 
 
 A bird — a canary — was in a gilded cage which 
 stood on a little table in the centre of the window, 
 while over it drooped from a pendant basket the 
 long, thick, cord-like stems of a kind of cactus, 
 covered with sharp spines. 
 
 Gent Rube's training had accustomed him to 
 take in more from one glance at a place than 
 most people can get from a dozen, so that when 
 Bella left him to fetch her mother, though it was 
 but a single minute, he had survej^ed every nook 
 and corner of the place, studied all its character- 
 istics, and put by the result in his brain for 
 future reflection and use. There was a kind of 
 museum in a cabinet in one corner with stuffed 
 birds and animals, every one of them collected 
 in the district, and most of them testifying to the 
 vigour, skill, and tastes of the deceased Mr. Max- 
 field, whose gun was slung across the wall over the 
 mantelpiece. There was a piano opposite to the 
 cabinet, and Gent Rube asked himself, a little 
 nervously, did he really know enough of the in- 
 strument to support properly the character he 
 had assumed. The walls of this old-fashioned 
 room were panelled with oak, and upon them 
 Gent Rube noticed three or four pictures, water 
 colour, in gilt frames, that almost looked as if 
 they were recent enough to be the handiwork of 
 the young lady. Of their quality he was no judge,
 
 GENT RUBE IN HIS FIRST HONEST HOME. 81 
 
 though he was inclined already to think them 
 marvels of artistic skill. But what chiefly puz- 
 zled him was reading the titles of the books (most 
 of them handsomely bound) in the glass bookcase. 
 Shakspere's plays and a few other volumes of that 
 kind he understood, he thought, perfectly well; 
 but all the rest — cyclopaedias, and popular reli- 
 gious books, and books of poetry by authors 
 whose names were on the back — were each an 
 enigma to him that he fancied he ought somehow 
 to be able to solve, if only for appearance' sake. 
 Among his pals of the thieves' quarter he had 
 won the appellation — half contemptuous, half 
 respectful — of the " bookman,^' on account of his 
 large acquaintance with the musical and dramatic 
 literature of the day. But now he felt only his 
 ignorance, now that he had come into a new 
 world, where the humours of " Box and Cox " 
 would be unknown, and flash songs clearly inad- 
 missible. 
 
 " So you have come to see us," said Mrs. Max- 
 field the moment she entered the room. " You 
 are welcome. Pray sit down. Give me your hat. 
 There, take the arm-chair by the fire, and amuse 
 yourself with looking about at the birds or the 
 books while Bella and I get tea ready. Our 
 servant has gone out for an hour or two, so we 
 must wait upon ourselves." Thus saying, she was 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 82 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 going away, when she stopped just inside the 
 door and added, " I quite forget your name, if 
 you told it to us.'* 
 
 " My name is Reuben Polwarth," said the per- 
 sonage who has been hitherto known as Gent 
 Rube ; and, as he ought to know the truth best, 
 we will for the future call him so. He uttered 
 these words slowty, as if they had been carefully 
 weighed beforehand, and yet as if he now felt a 
 land of hesitation about letting them from his 
 lips. Was it, after all, that he was not truthful, 
 and that he was falsifying in making the present 
 statement ? or had he quite other reasons for his 
 reluctance in thus assuming a rightful appella- 
 tion, as the fitting accompaniment of a worthier 
 career than had distinguished the name of Gent 
 Rube ? Perhaps he may enable us to answer this 
 question at a future time better than now. 
 
 It was not long before Reuben found himself 
 sitting between the two ladies at the tea table, 
 and striving hard to break the icy barrier that he 
 felt to exist between his desire to make himself 
 agreeable and the fear that he should only com- 
 mit himself, and, possibly, shock them outright 
 by giving way to his naturally joyous spirits and 
 abundant flow of talk. What had they in com- 
 mon ? he asked himself. Their lives so innocent, 
 his so guilty in the world's notion of things : they
 
 GENT BUBE IN HIS FIRST HONEST HOME. 83 
 
 SO simple and inexperienced, he so old in worldly 
 lore, and in a sense so worn out with the pre- 
 mature indulgences of his evil life. So, for a 
 long time he did not talk, except in a "yes" or 
 " no," or an " indeed ;" but that did not matter, 
 for Mrs. Maxfield talked enough for aU three; 
 and Bella seemed to perceive nothing of the 
 silence of his lips in her almost painful con- 
 sciousness of the activity of his soft bright eyes, 
 which continually surprised her by their light 
 and glow ; and which, whenever they happened 
 to meet hers, sent the blood rushing to her cheek 
 so violently that she grew angry -with herself, 
 and managed to tui-n away, that he might not 
 notice this foolish habit, which she found it im- 
 possible to cure. 
 
 But now the tuning of the piano began to be 
 talked about, and that led to a comparison of 
 musical likings and disUkings, and though there 
 were not many things known in common to both, 
 still they got on very well indeed. Reuben ra- 
 pidly became enthusiastic on this his favourite 
 theme, and told them of the operas he had wit- 
 nessed ; described in rapid and vivid language 
 the story of each : dwelt on their exquisite melo- 
 dies; and so warmed that at last, in answer to a 
 question from Bella if he knew a certain air he 
 had been praising, he began to sing in a low, 
 
 G 1
 
 fi4 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 mellow, and extremely pleasing voice a song from 
 "Norma" with such taste and expression that 
 Bella sat there gazing upon him with eager eyes 
 and rapt face, her whole soul in a tumult of 
 wonder and admiration at the strange chance 
 that had made this young man render them so 
 great a service and then come to their very house 
 as a guest. 
 
 Eeuhen, too, sang so low and unaffectedly, and 
 with such an instinctive avoidance of display, 
 that it seemed even to the cautious Mrs. Maxfield 
 as nothing more than a pleasant way of an- 
 swering her daughter's question. 
 
 Air followed air; one opera succeeded another; 
 and still mother and daughter sat there while the 
 twilight drew on, and then while the stars over the 
 pine trees appeared, and then till the moon rose 
 in glory; and it was not until a long and profound 
 silence had fallen upon them as they sat there in 
 the darkness watching the gleaming play of the 
 firelight upon the polished oaken walls that they 
 noticed the striking of the clock, and became 
 conscious of the lapse of time. 
 
 "Ten o'clock, Bella! Dear me! Well, cer- 
 tainly, Mr. Polwarth, you have made us pass the 
 evening very pleasantly. Dear me, we have been 
 sitting all this time without candles ! "We are 
 early people, Mr. Polwarth ; we go to bed at ten
 
 GENT KUBE IN HIS FIRST HONEST HOME. 85 
 
 and rise at six at this period of the year, and at 
 five in the summer. To-morrow is Sunday. You 
 will go with us to church ?" 
 
 Reuben looked alarmed, then checked himself, 
 glanced aside at Bella — who was lighting a bed- 
 candle — and muttered something about he should 
 be very happy ; then shook hands with the young 
 lady, who wished him good-night ; and was led off 
 by the mother to his bedroom. 
 
 This was another quaint, old-fashioned room, 
 also with steps down into it, and portraits of beau- 
 ties and statesmen of the last century mounted 
 without frames on the plaster walls. There was 
 a gigantic wardrobe on one side, and a window on 
 the other looking out into the farmyard, most of 
 which lay buried in deep shadow, with a strip of 
 white light along the front. 
 
 Mrs. Maxfield set down the little candlestick 
 on the dressing-table, and said, 
 
 " Excuse my asking you one question " 
 
 " What on earth can it be ? " thought Reuben ; 
 but he only said, '* Oh, to be sure." 
 
 " You don't read in bed at night, I hope ?" 
 
 " Well, I have done it, I must confess," said 
 Reuben, laughing ; " but I promise you I won't 
 here." 
 
 " Thank you. Fire makes me very nervous. 
 We once had a narrow escape. Good-night. Oh !
 
 86 OXE AGAINST THE WOELD. 
 
 I wanted to ask you — did you hear anything 
 about the man who robbed us that night ? " 
 
 "No," said Reuben. 
 
 " I wouldn't mind if I could get back my hus- 
 band's miniature. I can get another of my 
 daughter, but his is gone beyond remedy if I 
 don't recover the one in the locket. I suppose I 
 must give up all hope of it.^' 
 
 " Yes, yes ; I quite think so." 
 
 " What wretches there are in the world ! Well, 
 good-night. I hope you will sleep comfortably. 
 We breakfast at eight. Good-night." 
 
 " Good-night." 
 
 As soon as she was gone, Reuben stepped 
 lightly to the door, turned the key, tried the 
 door, which was quite fast, then sat down upon 
 a chair in the centre of the room, and appeared 
 suddenly to lose all his buoyancy of spirit, and 
 collapse in body and mind, as if he had just come 
 out of some terrible and exhausting expedition. 
 He moved his lips as if his tongue were dry ; he 
 felt his palms and bent his fingers about, as if to 
 get rid of their clammy perspiration ; then he 
 glanced round and round the room in a furtive 
 manner as if desiring to make sure that no one 
 was peering in upon him, and yet to conceal his 
 own movements from the watching eyes, if any 
 such there were.
 
 GENT RUBE IN HIS FIRST HONEST HOME. 87 
 
 After a while he rose and began to walk about. 
 Then he opened the door of the wardrobe, and 
 closed it again nervously, as he saw it was fuU of 
 clothes and articles of value. He went to the 
 window and saw Bella crossing the corner of the 
 farmyard, as if she had been to attend some of 
 the animals there, or perhaps simply to see if 
 all was properly closed. Her dark form moved 
 across the white streak of moonlight that lay 
 beyond the projecting shadow of the barn — then 
 disaj)peai*ed. 
 
 Again he sat down on the chair. He took 
 from a secret pocket in his gre}^ jacket the locket 
 and the purse that Nobby Bob had given to him, 
 and he gazed at them long and earnestly. At 
 last his thoughts shaped themselves into a kind 
 of inner speech, which may be thus put into 
 words : — 
 
 " Ay, I have only to show her this, and there'd 
 be a pretty hue and cry after the mock gentleman 
 and real thief. Thief! Thief! Thief! Yes, I 
 begin to understand at last something of the true 
 meaning of the word. Not much as yet, I dare 
 say, compared with what I shall have to 
 learn. 
 
 " Well, then, why do I submit ? ^Miy allow 
 myself to get enthralled by these idiotic dreams 
 of a return to innocence, purity, honesty; of
 
 88 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 making myself a fit husband, some day or other, 
 for such a woman as this ? 
 
 " How beautiful she is ! There ought to be a 
 different name for such as she is, and for the 
 ' women ' I have hitherto known. Can they both 
 belong to the same common nature ? 
 
 *' ' What wretches there are in the world.' I 
 could laugh to think how I might have astonished 
 the pious old lady by a few words on that text. 
 Perhaps it would have been the wisest thing to 
 do. Perhaps, even now, the best plan would be 
 to show her these things, give her one look and 
 laugh of defiance, and fly back to the old scenes, 
 the old dangers, the old excitements; out of 
 which, at all events, I did get a fierce kind of 
 enjoyment. Yes, I think I'll go back, and begin 
 again by knuckling down handsomely to Nobby 
 Bob. The vagabond ! 
 
 *'Well, no. Nobby: not yet, I think, either. 
 
 " Come, then, how are things to be ? I must 
 play one part or the other, Tm quite sure of that. 
 If I am to be a rogue for the rest of my life I'll 
 be a rogue at the top of the ladder, not a rogue 
 at the bottom. And if I'm to turn honest I'll do 
 that too thoroughly. 
 
 *'Yes, that's easily said, not so easily done. 
 Now, about this purse and locket, and these por- 
 traits. It's very clear I mustn't keep them; 'twill
 
 GENT RUBE IN HIS FIRST HONEST HOME. 89 
 
 be too dangerous. Let me see. What if I destroy 
 the purse and pack up the locket and send it by 
 the post, addressed in a false hand, from the 
 nearest town? Yes; and Fll do it at once, so 
 that if an unlucky accident occurs it shall be 
 the packet that is found ; and I can but invent 
 a lie as to my getting it. I'll say — provided only 
 it's after I have had a chance of seeing anybody 
 out of this house, so that I mayn't contradict my 
 own statement to her to-night — I'll say somebody 
 put it into my hands in a mysterious manner 
 and disappeared — knowing, of course, I was stay- 
 ing at the house here." 
 
 Reuben now began to do as he had said he 
 would, but seemed to find it hard to cease look- 
 ing at the miniature of Bella Maxfield, which was 
 exquisitely true to the rosy freshness of her face 
 and expression. More than once he put it by, 
 then again began to look at it, and at last he 
 said, 
 
 " It's a risky business, I know, but Fll keep 
 this. It's the father's portrait they think so much 
 about. And if I keep the miniature why shouldn't 
 I keep this pretty netted purse, which I'll be 
 bound she made for herself? " 
 
 The miniature of Bella was therefore taken 
 out, and wrapped up with the green silk purse in 
 a little tissue paper, and put away in a secret
 
 90 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 pocket in the lining of Eeuben's vest, and he 
 smiled — not altogether contemptuously — as he 
 thought how near his heart he had happened to 
 place them. 
 
 Then the locket with the other miniature was 
 done up in paper, and then he was puzzled how 
 to get pen and ink for the address. At last he 
 bethought him a pencil would be better, as seem- 
 ing more suited to the peculiar difficulties of Mrs. 
 Maxfield's anonymous correspondent. So he wrote 
 in a disguised hand her name with a pencil which 
 he always carried about with him, and then re- 
 placed it in the secret pocket till he might be 
 ready to dispose of it through the post. 
 
 And then again his thoughts reverted to that 
 idea which had previously so disturbed him, 
 though he had not yet directly acknowledged it. 
 Now, however, the truth came out : — 
 
 " I never was a coward till now. But I feel as 
 though I could turn suddenly white in the face, 
 and begin to tremble in the knees if I were un- 
 expectedly to face my own shadow. What does 
 it all mean ? This isn't the state of things I cal- 
 culated upon. 
 
 " What have I to be frightened about here, so 
 far from London, and in a place which required 
 all the genius of a Nobby Bob to find out as a 
 fresh one for our operations ? And, though he
 
 GENT RUBE IN HIS FIRST HONEST HOME. 91 
 
 was right enough in his choice, he will know, and 
 the coves about him will all know, that he has 
 spoiled the ground for many a year to come. No 
 danger, therefore, of my being discovered, if only 
 Nobby Bob were once safely away. But will he 
 get away undiscovered with the swag ? He won't 
 go without it. He'll stick to the neighbourhood, 
 spite of a thousand dangers, till he's caught or is 
 successful. 
 
 " Yes, that's my danger. I wish I could see 
 how to get rid of it. What's that ?" he exclaimed 
 suddenly, a moment later, as a large map on the 
 wall caught his eye. He almost leapt across the 
 room to see if it was what he had fancied. " By 
 Jove ! this is luck ! Map of the district all about 
 here. There's the wood; there's the Squire's. 
 Ay, and I can now follow the very direction we took 
 as we ran away. All the main roads through the 
 wood quite clear ! And there, ay, there's the 
 very one he ought to take to get away in a dif- 
 ferent dii'ection from the one we came by. It 
 leads to a town, and from the town he easily 
 gets to the rail. I'U trace it, and I'll steal off 
 as soon as they're all asleep, go to the tree, put 
 in this very useful piece of information for the 
 selfish vagabond, so that he may find it when he 
 goes for the swag, and get back before anybody's 
 stirring in the morning.
 
 92 ONE AGAINST THE T^'ORLD. 
 
 " Eleven miles there, eleven back — twenty-two. 
 Say five hours, and no allowance for stoppages. 
 Start at half-past eleven; get back at half-past 
 four. That's it. "\i\'hat's the time now ? " 
 Reuben looked at his watch, an uncommonl}^ 
 handsome one of gold. " Eleven ! Half an hour 
 to spare for the tracing and for the look-out to 
 see all still before the start. If discovered ? Oh ! 
 I'll say I couldn't sleep — beauty of night, beauty 
 of neighbourhood, or any other lie that comes 
 readiest to hand. Now then, to work." 
 
 Putting a piece of paper (the blank half of a 
 sheet of notepaper) upon a book, he stood before 
 the map and sketched with rude but vigorous 
 skill the chief roads running through the wood, 
 noted all objects that might serve as landmarks, 
 showed to what places in the distance each road 
 led, put a circle round the name of the town to 
 which he thought Nobby ought to go ; and then, 
 having carefully verified every particular item, he 
 sat down, deepened all the lines, and then folded 
 the paper very carefully and put it into one of 
 his waistcoat pockets. 
 
 He then unlocked his door, listened awhile in 
 intense silence, heard the servant, who had come 
 home late, moving about overhead ; heard some 
 one praying rather loudly near him, doubtless 
 Mrs. Maxfield at her evening devotions; could
 
 GENT RUBE IN HIS FIRST HONEST HOME. 93 
 
 not hear anything ahout the only other inmate of 
 the house, Bella Maxfield; and then he slid down 
 the stairs, making no more noise than a ghost 
 might have done. Feeling carefully with his hands 
 along every wall, touching as he passed every 
 door, making clear to himself at every step where- 
 abouts he was, he reached the sitting-room, which 
 he had previously noticed was without shutters. 
 The blind was still up, and the moonlight was so 
 bright as to alarm him. He undid the fastenin cr 
 of the window, which opened like a door, got out, 
 then drew the glass door to again and fastened it 
 by thrusting in a little bit of stick between it and 
 the framework at the side. He was then free. 
 For, keeping close to the house and turning 
 round to the right, he was in the shrubbery, and 
 from that he had only to climb over a wall to 
 stand on the heath. 
 
 Cautiously keeping within the shade of the 
 wall, he managed to get quite away from the 
 house, and then he found cover from the bushes. 
 And then, seeing the course clear, he bounded 
 off with a speed and elasticity of limb that pro- 
 mised to shorten very materially his estimate of 
 the time required to accomplish so many miles.
 
 CHAPTEE XI. 
 
 NOBBY BOB IS HIMSELF SURPRISED, WHEN HE HAD 
 ONLY MEANT TO SURPRISE OTHERS. 
 
 Surely there must have been greater sym- 
 pathy, after all, between Nobby Bob and the 
 pupil he had known as " Rube " (which the 
 thieves had first lengthened into " Gentleman 
 Eube," and then again shortened into Gent 
 Eube), for how else could it have happened that 
 both of them should have taken it into their 
 heads to visit the wood the same night, and so 
 long before the time when any visit was to have 
 been made ? But certainly the fact is, that about 
 half-past one on the morning of Sunday — that 
 is, an hour and a-half after the midnight of 
 Saturday — both the men appeared at the same 
 time in the wood, one on the high road, with a 
 truck very like a London costermonger's apple 
 truck, which he pushed before him; the oth^r 
 gliding rapidly through the trees. For a time 
 they were quite unconscious of each other's pre-
 
 NOBBY BOB SURPRISED. 95 
 
 sence in the same neiglibourliood. Let us follow 
 Eeuben's steps first. 
 
 Although puzzled for a while and constrained 
 to trace and retrace the ground for some half- 
 hour before he can find the tree, he does find it, 
 and he gets into the hollow trunk, feels the leaves 
 above him just as he had left them, but he does 
 not find the green baize bags. 
 
 " Gone ! gone ! The infernal scoundrel ! He 
 didn't believe me ! Thought, I suppose, I should 
 be here first and leave him in the lurch. Well, I 
 might have spared myself this long run if I'd 
 only had a bit more sense — a bit more knowledge 
 of my worthy, old master. He'll be hung yet, 
 that's a comfort. But what's this he has left 
 behind ? " 
 
 Reuben drew forth the stick with its wrappings, 
 and undid them one by one till he came to the 
 scrap of paper. He could not read the writing 
 on it till he had lighted a bit of wax taper that 
 gentlemen of his late profession commonly car- 
 ried about with them. Then he made out in 
 Nobby Bob's great, sprawling characters the fol- 
 lowing words : — 
 
 *' Get up a little earlier, young un, next time 
 when you want to steal a march on 
 
 " Nobby Bob."
 
 96 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 Eeuhen could not help laughing as he burnt 
 the scrap of paper, extinguished his light, and 
 set out on his journey home. 
 
 Home ! How the thought tickled his fancy, 
 even while it troubled his judgment ! However, 
 he was not going to dwell on that now. He 
 would get to his home, or whatever else he might 
 call it, with all possible speed, so as to guard 
 against any accidental discovery of his absence. 
 
 But, as he is running lightly along at the easy 
 pace that he finds he can longest keep up without 
 exhaustion, he hears some inexplicable sound. 
 He stops and listens, but cannot understand. He 
 stoops and puts his ear to the ground ; then he 
 rises and goes off cautiously in a direction slightly 
 different from that he had been pursuing. 
 
 He is evidently not running from the sound, 
 but towards it, for he gets more and more careful 
 of his movements as he progresses. At last he 
 sees, through the dim light let into the wood 
 from the moon, the object he seeks. A man with 
 a truck covered with canvas has just stopped on 
 the high road, in front of a ruinous cottage which 
 stands on the far bank. He pushes the truck 
 into the shade of the bank, takes off the canvas 
 cover, and reveals a medley of things which 
 puzzle Reuben to make out. And the man puz- 
 zles him still more ; but for the dress, which is
 
 NOBBY BOB SURPRISED. 97 
 
 quite strange to him, he could have sworn it was 
 Nobby Bob. Suddenly the man makes a gestui-e, 
 while moving about his truck, that causes Eeuben 
 to exclaim, 
 
 " Nobby himself I Carrjing off the swag, I 
 suppose ! " 
 
 Yes, it is Nobby; who presently, leaving his 
 truck uncovered, goes off with the canvas in his 
 hand on the side of the road where his late com- 
 panion is hid, passes within a few feet of him, so 
 that Reuben, from the depth of a dense bush, 
 can look right into his very face, and makes for a 
 blasted tree that the latter sees not far off. He 
 begins to understand now what Nobby had done 
 — removed the plunder from the tree the very 
 night of the robbery to some other hiding-place, 
 to which he was now going. 
 
 Reuben drops lightly into the road in order to 
 look at the contents of the truck. He finds, to 
 his immense amusement, a collection of chil- 
 dren's toys, children's sweetmeats in packets, 
 and children's gay balloons of all coloui*s, which 
 seem to have been Nobby's special favourites if 
 one might judge by their number. 
 
 "No doubt because they were so light to carry 
 — the idle vagabond ! I suppose he has bought 
 all these affairs at some market town in order to 
 evade suspicion while carrj'ing off the swag. If
 
 98 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 SO, where does lie mean to put it ? " Reuben 
 stooped and saw a square well below projecting 
 down from the centre of the truck. ** Oh, of 
 course ! Very clever, Master Nobby! Come, my 
 old master has something in him after all. But 
 I must see the play out." 
 
 Like a cat, Eeuben sprang up the high bank 
 and set out after his late companion ; very cau- 
 tiously, however. He sheltered himself every 
 instant behind some tree or bush, till he saw 
 Nobby Bob stop at the blasted oak, throw down 
 his piece of canvas, and begin to dig. " There 
 then is the treasure !'' thought Reuben, greatly 
 amused by the whole business in spite of his irri- 
 tation at the idea of the bad faith imputed by 
 Nobby against himself in the precautions taken. 
 
 But what's the matter with Nobby ? He stops 
 the digging process, looks up for once towards 
 the heaven he ordinarily cares so little for as 
 if in a mute appeal wrung from his very soul 
 against some atrocious wrong; then scratches 
 his head with his fingers violently and viciously ; 
 then mutters a deep and terrible oath, the very 
 reverberations of which seem to linger in the air, 
 and come towards Reuben as though he had 
 some particular share in the awful event. 
 
 " What is it ? " asks Reuben of himself, more 
 and more interested. He must get nearer. So
 
 NOBBY BOB SURPRISED. 99 
 
 he runs round till he gets to the other side of the 
 oak; he climbs up; he lies at length along a 
 thick, horizontal branch ; creeps on — on — on, till 
 he is almost above Nobby's head, and only a 
 few feet distant. 
 
 " My eyes and limbs ! The swag's gone ! Is 
 it the young 'un ? Did he see me that night ? 
 Or is it that blessed shoemaker who caught me 
 digging truffles, and that I giv a shilling to, to 
 send him away in a hangelic temper, and with a 
 hangel's faith in what I said? ^Miat's that?'' 
 Nobby stooped to the empty pit, put in his hand, 
 took up something, held it to the light, and he 
 would have again spoken but he could not. His 
 heart was too full. He knew all now, it was a 
 shilling — his own! 
 
 The honest debtor had returned to pay his 
 debt, and had either taken away the swag as a 
 kind of reward for his honesty, or else had gone 
 to seek out the true owner. Anyhow the swag 
 was gone, and here was Nobby Bob on his knees, 
 gazing, in mute fury and inexpressible desii'e of 
 vengeance, on the shilling.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 MES. MAXFIELD MAKES AN ALAETSIING DISCO VEEY. 
 
 Unluckily for our hero there was one inmate 
 of Mrs. Maxfield's house who took it into her 
 head to do exactly what he had only proposed to 
 say he had done if his absence were discovered. 
 Bella was too excited to sleep. This stranger 
 had opened new worlds to her. In vain she tried 
 to force herself to lie quiet in bed, and make 
 believe that she was going to sleep. Fragments 
 of melodies sung by him stole into her ears; 
 visions of the theatres he had described seemed 
 to expand like so many earthly Paradises. The 
 characters and incidents of the operatic stories 
 he had narrated seized her and held her fast, one 
 after another, till she felt it was useless to struggle 
 against this mighty influx of emotion, and 
 thought, and imagination ; so she leaped up, deter- 
 mined to go down stairs, and perhaps out on to 
 the lawn if she saw all quiet. 
 
 But all visions vanished in a moment when she
 
 - MRS. MAXFIELD MAKES A DISCOVERY. 101 
 
 found the window unfastened and giving way to 
 a slight push. She ran back upstaii'S to her 
 mother, waked her, and told her in alarm of the 
 discovery she had made. 
 
 Her only reply was to ask, — " Where is the 
 young man, Mr. Polwarth ? " 
 
 "Why, in his bed and asleep, of course, 
 mother. "What makes you ask so strange a 
 question ? " 
 
 " Well, dear, I've been thinking we've been a 
 little incautious about this stranger. There now, 
 Bella, don't fly at me ! I don't say anything 
 against him. I like him. But he is a stranger. 
 So I shall go up to his room, and, if he is there, 
 we will teU him about the window, and say how 
 alarmed we are at the circumstance.'' 
 
 " Yes — yes, that will be best. He can help if 
 there be any danger." 
 
 It may be conceived how blankly mother and 
 daughter looked in each other's faces when there 
 was no reply to theii' repeated knockings ; and 
 when, on going into the room, they found it 
 vacant, and the bed evidently in the same state 
 as it had been left the previous evening. 
 
 '* Oh, Bella, we shall be murdered ! " 
 
 " Mother ! " 
 
 "What's the time?" 
 
 '• A little after two."
 
 102 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 " Would you mind, dear, fetching Mattie to 
 spend the rest of the night with us ? " 
 
 " No, mother, if only you won't he so ungrate- 
 ful as to forget the service Mr. Polwarth did us." 
 
 " No, no ; nohody need know why I send for 
 Mattie. Say I am not very well. The neigh- 
 bours are quite aware how often he has slept here 
 before when we felt uneasy. His wife frequently 
 wonders why I don't have him here always, 
 seeing the place is so lonesome with only the 
 boy." 
 
 " Then you won't let him suspect anything 
 against our guest, will you ? Think how inhos- 
 pitable we should be if" 
 
 " No, no ; run along. Til keep all fast till you 
 come back." 
 
 A few minutes later Bella returned with Mat- 
 tie, a sort of confidential farm servant, who went 
 to his accustomed place for taking an occasional 
 night's sleep, and soon forgot he had been dis- 
 turbed. Mrs. Maxfield also went to bed, and 
 Bella seemed as if she did the same, but con- 
 tinued, hour after hour, to walk about restless 
 and alarmed, but steadily keeping to the faith 
 that the stranger could not possibly be capable 
 of harming them or anybody else without suffi- 
 cient provocation. 
 
 The village church bell was sounding slowly
 
 MRS. MAXFIELD MAKES A DISCOVERY. 103 
 
 one — two — three — four — while Eeuhen was get- 
 ting over the wall into the shrubbery, and begin- 
 ning to fancy from the quiet that pervaded the 
 house that his absence was undiscovered. But 
 the first touch of the glass door from the lawn 
 undeceived him. Not only was it fast but the 
 blind was down. His blood ran cold. He was 
 half inclined to turn and fly for ever from this 
 place of promised shelter, but which now 
 threatened to be a place of unendurable punish- 
 ment. 
 
 Gradually he satisfied himself that they could 
 not disprove his statement if he were to say 
 he had been sleepless, and won by the beauty of 
 the night and the strangeness of his situation to 
 go out upon the heath, and try to walk himself 
 into fatigue and fitness for rest. 
 
 Should he, then, boldly knock ? He thought 
 that would be the best, but he had not the cou- 
 rage to do even so small a thing. So he resolved 
 to walk about on the lawn and along the banks 
 of the stream till they saw him, and they them- 
 selves got the idea that he was merely giving way 
 to some poetical eccentricity. 
 
 It was an ingenious thought. When he had 
 made some half dozen turns up and down the 
 bank of the water, Bella saw him and ran to 
 inform her mother. Both then took another good
 
 104 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 and long look at him, as he seemed to he wrapped 
 in contemplation, while lazily picking up stones 
 and throwing them into the water to make great 
 circles. 
 
 Bella could not help laughing at last at the 
 ahsurdity of his conduct, wandering ahout in that 
 fashion at four o'clock in the morning ; hut she 
 secretly guessed there might he reasons, judging 
 from her own experience of the night, why Mr. 
 Reuben Polwarth might indulge in such a freak, 
 and yet not be altogether a case for an asylum. 
 Mrs. Maxfield, too, seemed to feel all her doubts 
 die out as she said, 
 
 " Well, Bella, go off to bed, and I will let him 
 in. Oh, nonsense ! don't you mind me. Of 
 course I shall put on my large shawl, and I shan't 
 take a candle. There, get along ! " 
 
 Bella did go, but managed to wait about to 
 hear her mother undo the glass door in the 
 window and cough loudly to attract his attention; 
 then a moment after she heard his quick step on 
 the gravel, and his frank, cheerful laugh and 
 explanation^- 
 
 " Really, I am most heartily ashamed of myself 
 to give you all this trouble ; but I couldn^t sleep, 
 80 I thought I would walk, and I was in hope not 
 to have disturbed you." 
 
 ** Well, well, I don't mind for once such un-
 
 MRS. MAXFIELD MAKES A DISCOVERY. 105 
 
 seasonable hours and ways. Can you find your 
 way up ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes ! Good night ! But pray excuse 
 me." 
 
 *' Oh, to be sure ! to be sure ! Grood night ! 
 for the second time, or rather good morning ! for 
 it'll be daybreak soon."
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 SUNDAY AT NORTHOPE. 
 
 Reuben slept well after liis exertions of the 
 night, and on waking he was greeted by the dis- 
 tant and pleasing sound of the church bell, call- 
 ing the people of Northope to Divine service. 
 He leapt out of bed, looked at his watch, saw it 
 was nearly eleven o'clock, and began hurriedly to 
 dress, almost wishing the ladies would go without 
 him, and yet wishing at the same time to study 
 his new acquaintances under every possible 
 aspect, while at the same time endeavouring to 
 learn how honest and reputable people generally 
 behaved under circumstances and in places so 
 unfamiliar to him. 
 
 As he had not yet discovered the necessity to 
 shave — his lip, on account of his youth, exhibit- 
 ing only a soft yet manly down — he was not long 
 in dressing. Descending to the parlour or sitting- 
 room, with its wide and ' high windows, and 
 beautiful landscape beyond, he found there the
 
 SUNDAY AT NORTHOPE. 107 
 
 two ladies just starting for cliurch. Bella srailed 
 her greeting ; then blushed as if with the fear it 
 had been too warm, while her mother said — 
 
 " We thought we would not disturb you, after 
 such a poor night's rest." 
 
 " I am ready now." 
 
 " But you have had no breakfast." 
 
 " Oh," said Reuben, gaily, " that matters very 
 little ; I've been accustomed at times to eat only 
 one meal a day." 
 
 " AVell but, mother, there's a cup of coffee left 
 in the coffee-pot quite hot." 
 
 " Thank you, that will do capitally with a good 
 thick slice of bread and butter. I'll swallow it 
 in two minutes." 
 
 " Oh, you needn't scald or choke yourself. The 
 carriage will take us to church in five minutes. 
 We don't generally drive there, but I feel unwell 
 this morning," said ^Mrs. Maxfield. 
 
 As soon as Eeuben had swallowed his hasty 
 breakfast, he went out to the little by-road in 
 front of the farmyard, where the vehicle was, and 
 where the ladies were already seated, waiting for 
 him. Bella wore the same pretty-coloured muslin 
 he had first seen her in, though the straw hat 
 was exchanged for a bonnet matching the dress 
 in colour, and with a graceful feather winding 
 about it in some way that Reuben didn't under-
 
 108 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 stand, but thought inexpressibly beautiful. He 
 sat in front with the lad, who was somewhat re- 
 covered from Nobby Bob's violence; while the 
 ladies occupied the principal seat behind. 
 
 "Can this be Gent Rube," he inly said to 
 himself, " the burglar of scarce a week ago, now 
 going with innocent and confiding ladies to 
 church in the very neighbourhood that has been 
 clamorous with excitement about his and his late 
 companion's doings ? Where is that hard-headed 
 gentleman now ? Has he gone back to London 
 discomfited, to tell the story of his success in so 
 great a robbery, and of his subsequent loss of all 
 the fruits of his achievement, or what ? " 
 
 Eeuben could not help these uneasy specula- 
 tions coming into his mind between the intervals 
 of dreamy pleasure he felt in looking back upon 
 Bella's face, in exchanging every now and then a 
 word with her, and in listening to the music of 
 her tones, always so brief, as though she dai'ed 
 not trust herself to much speech. But he was 
 again to be rudely wakened even now, when he 
 so little expected it. As they passed through 
 the village they saw some labourers collected 
 round the wall of the village pound, busily pon- 
 dering the contents of a bill pasted there. Mrs. 
 Maxfield had a certain share of curiosity in her 
 character, and so she asked Beuben to stop, that
 
 SUNDAY AT NORTHOPE. 109 
 
 they might learn what the biU was about. That 
 lady, having a chronic fear of murder, had jumped 
 at once to her usual conclusion that some awful 
 tragedy was here first announced. 
 
 '' Would you, Mr. Polwarth, see what it is, and 
 teU us ? " 
 
 " Certainly ; w4th pleasure," said Keuben, 
 jumping down quite unsuspicious of the un- 
 pleasant surprise that awaited him. What he 
 felt as he read the NOTICE that had been con- 
 cocted between the giant landlord and Squire 
 Gorman's steward we need not describe. Not, 
 of course, on account of the notice itself, but that 
 he should have to read it in their presence, speak 
 of it to thejUy describe as the biU described his 
 own feUow-burglar for their satisfaction and edifi- 
 cation. 
 
 Again he was alarmed to see how all his old 
 courage and presence of mind seemed to have 
 oozed away during these last few days. A week 
 ago he would have felt a kind of malicious 
 pleasure in reading this bill to a crowd of won- 
 dering rustics in the very neighbourhood of his 
 and Nobby's achievements. Not so now. This 
 maiden, sitting there in the phaeton, looking with 
 such artless wonder towards the bill, and with 
 such almost girlish pleasure upon him whenever 
 he spoke, seemed to have taken all the fortitude,
 
 110 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 all the manliness out of him, instead of giving 
 increased strength to such qualities, as Reuben 
 knew well ought to be the case. He did not 
 need so much to ask himself why this was so, as 
 why it ought to be so. He knew that his past 
 life was hourly growing more hateful to him, but 
 he could not understand why he could not, by an 
 exertion of his will, change it, forget it, and then 
 only think of the promise of the future. 
 
 As he went back to the vehicle he was quite 
 aware that his voice would tremble, that his face 
 was already pale. However, he made the best of 
 it, and managed to talk without looking at them 
 any more than was absolutely necessary : 
 
 " It's a bill offering a reward for the very man 
 who robbed you. It seems he has broken into 
 some Squire's house." 
 
 " Squire Gorman's ? " asked Mrs. Maxfield, 
 with fixed eyes and parted lips that showed how 
 the subject excited her. 
 
 " Yes, I think that was the name. He has 
 carried off a great deal of plate and other valuable 
 property." 
 
 " Oh, Bella, what an escape we had ! " 
 
 "Yes, mother, we had indeed;" and Reuben 
 knew that she was mentally finishing the sen- 
 tence by some kind of grateful thought about 
 him.
 
 SUNDAY AT NORTHOPE. Ill 
 
 "Do they think the wretch is still in this 
 neighbourhood ? " 
 
 "Yes; the bill does say something of the 
 sort," replied Eeuben. 
 
 " Well, I do wish he may be caught. I 
 shouldn't like to hang him, but it would be a 
 mercy to get such a character sent out of the 
 country. Don't you think so, Mr. Polwailh ? " 
 
 " Eh ? I beg your pardon — yes. Of course I 
 think so." 
 
 They were now at the church, and Eeuben 
 tried to forget, in the novelty of his situation, the 
 new and all-engrossing alarm he felt at this 
 public warning about Nobby Bob's proceedings, 
 person, and supposed haunts. 
 
 They went to a pew which was the property 
 of the Masfield family, and as old-fashioned as 
 everything else belonging to them, where un- 
 modified by recent feminine and youthful taste. 
 It was very high and large, and almost excluded 
 observation from any other pai't of the church, 
 except from the reading-desk of the clergyman 
 and the still higher pulpit. 
 
 It was a fine old church, built in a pure Gothic 
 style, not much ornamented, but beautiful, with 
 a kind of severe beauty, from the graceful forms 
 of the slender pillars, the pointed arched win- 
 dows, and the open woodwork of the oaken roof.
 
 112 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 But the one object that from the first attracted 
 Keuben's eyes was a painted window. He had 
 never seen one before, except from the outside 
 of metropolitan churches, and the dingy, dusty 
 aspect of such windows so seen had never tempted 
 him to go inside. This window in Northope 
 Church seemed, therefore, a kind of revelation. 
 He had a sensuous love of colour as well as of 
 sound ; and these gorgeous tints, those dazzling 
 crimsons, and yellows, and cerulean blues — so 
 contrasted and yet so blended — gave him an 
 almost painful sense of something rich, won- 
 derful, inexplicable. He tried to make out the 
 subject, but of course could not, for he knew as 
 little of the Bible as he knew of the habits of 
 honest folk. But he saw there aged men and 
 beautiful women all looking up towards heaven, 
 and seeming to have shed upon them as they 
 looked some kind of heavenly glory. What did 
 it all mean ? What had such men and women 
 (if they had ever really lived) felt to make them 
 look like that ? He had fancied he had got to a 
 tolerable knowledge of humanity as he had found 
 it in the thieves' quarter, and in the persons and 
 minds of the victims of the " war " in which he 
 had been so promising a soldier ; but he did not 
 ever remember to have felt anything that could 
 ally him even for a moment to those wondrous
 
 SUNDAY AT NORTHOPE. 113 
 
 beings. And yet, somehow, when he turned and 
 looked on Bella's face, and saw th^ sunlight 
 gleam upon it as she was singing with all her 
 heart and voice (for the children in the gallery 
 above rather waited for her to lead them), he did 
 seem to see some kind of connection between her 
 and those wonderful maidens with the small 
 harps in their hands that he gazed on so fre- 
 quently in the window. 
 
 Bella sat between him and her mother, and as 
 a consequence Beuben's dreadful ignorance as to 
 what to do with the Prayer-book Mrs. Maxfield 
 had handed to him on entering the pew did not 
 attract that lady's attention. Certainly she would 
 have been shocked and offended, perhaps irreme- 
 diably so ; but Bella, who instinctively knew 
 how much he was at a loss, while not seeming 
 to think anything about it, found every place for 
 him, and, indeed, almost appeared to enjoy his 
 obvious helplessness and dependence upon her. 
 
 AVhen the singing came, Eeuben could no 
 longer be silent. Perhaps it was simply his 
 native love of music that moved him. Perhaps 
 it was the first dawning of a new and spiritual 
 life. But whatever it was, he waited only to 
 catch the tune by the experience of the first 
 verse, and then lifted up in clear brilliant notes 
 a voice that rose to Bella's like a skylark to its 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 114 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 mate in the sky, and there so mingled with it 
 that Bella, in her very delight and wonder, began 
 to falter, while the tears rushed into her happy 
 eyes. Reuben saw those tears, and was troubled ; 
 he knew not what they meant. 
 
 A passage in the Morning Lesson startled 
 him. It was the pathetic and sublime promise 
 to the wicked in Isaiah i. 18. The very blood 
 seemed tingling through his ears as he followed 
 word by word the earnest utterance of the mini- 
 ster repeating the promise of the Prophet — 
 
 " Though thy sins be as scarlet, they shall be 
 as white as snow; though they be red like crim- 
 son, they shall be as wool." 
 
 Was this meant for him ? Did the clergyman 
 know anything about him ? There surely could 
 be no other man in that congregation to whom 
 such awful and yet comforting words could ap- 
 ply ? Was Bella looking at him just now ? He 
 dared not raise his eyes to see. At last came the 
 sermon. Beuben^s head drooped lower and lower 
 as he listened. He wondered if the preacher was 
 about to make any use of the words that had so 
 appalled him. 
 
 But he soon ceased to attend when he found 
 the sermon was so generally applicable as to 
 concern no one in particular ; and then his 
 thoughts reverted to the solemn words of the
 
 SUNDAY AT NORTHOPE. 115 
 
 Lesson, which seemed to him at once the most 
 winning, and yet the most fearful he had ever 
 listened to. Were there many such sayings in 
 this book which Mrs. Maxfield had reached to 
 him at the time the text was given out ? He 
 almost wanted to go home and amuse himself — 
 only amuse himself — for an hour or two in read- 
 ing the book he had often laughed at, but never 
 read — never till now. 
 
 Again at the close of the sermon they sang, 
 but it was Reuben's voice now that faltered. He 
 felt irritated by this new emotion, which so over- 
 mastered him, and then the music no longer 
 pleased. There was a discord in his soul which 
 made the whole fabric begin to seem hateful. A 
 cry seemed to ring in his ears — " "What dost thou 
 here ? This is no place for thee. Fly to thy 
 kind, and thy fate. Pollute not God's own 
 house." 
 
 " Well, he did not want to be there," his re- 
 bellious soul seemed ready to cry out. 
 
 His trials were not yet over. It had been 
 settled that the carriage was not to come for 
 them, as they were to walk home. Passing 
 through the village, they came upon a little ale- 
 house that was not a hundred yards from the 
 pound which bore that alarming bill on its walls. 
 It so happened that the ladies were in front, 
 
 X 2
 
 116 ONE AGAINST THE WOELD. 
 
 picking their steps through a muddy piece of 
 road, while Eeuben, looking very pale and absent- 
 minded, was following. As he came towards the 
 public-house, his quick eye caught the peculiar 
 movement of a blind at the window that was on 
 a level with the passers-by in the road. He 
 knew in a moment, while attaching no particular 
 thought to the matter, that some one was holding 
 the blind so as to be able to look out or obtain 
 concealment at pleasure. Old habits of caution 
 suggested to him to take no notice in passing, 
 but to turn suddenly when he had just got past. 
 He did so, and there was the face of Nobby Bob 
 looking at him as he had never j-et seen him look. 
 It was but for an instant the eyes of the two men 
 met, for the blind was instantly dropped, and 
 Reuben went on his way. 
 
 Usuall}^ Reuben could eat and enjoy a good 
 dinner, and on the present occasion there were 
 special reasons why he should do so. He had 
 eaten little breakfast, and the dinner was very 
 much to his taste — roast chicken, with a ham, 
 home-cured, of unrivalled flavour and juiciness. 
 This, with Brussels sprouts, and potatoes like 
 balls of flour, surely was enough to make a wan- 
 dering music-tuner bless his good fortune that 
 placed him in front of such good things, with a 
 J^dy on each side of him, and one of the two the
 
 SUNDAY AT NORTHOPE. 117 
 
 most beautiful girl that the whole county perhaps 
 could produce. 
 
 Yet Eeuben ate little, and was at the same 
 time just as little inclined for talk. It is true, 
 he made a feverish kind of spurt now and then, 
 but it came to nothing; for, forgetting it was 
 Sunday, he began once to speak of topics that 
 made Mrs. Maxfield look grave, and reduced him 
 instantly to silence. 
 
 After dinner ^Mrs. Maxfield retired to take her 
 customary nap, and Bella went away with her. 
 The weather was unusually warm ; so Eeuben, 
 when they were gone, threw open the glass door, 
 drew a little arm-chair near to it, and began to 
 smoke a cigar, which he had been formally 
 invited to take if he so pleased. He was glad to 
 be alone. He wanted to think about this sud- 
 den appearance of Nobby Bob in the very place 
 to which he (Reuben) had retreated for shelter, 
 and for an introduction to a new and better mode 
 of life. 
 
 Was it accidental, Nobby Bob's presence in 
 the village ? If so, what a cursedly unlucky 
 chance it was that he should have happened to 
 look out from his covert just when he (Reuben) 
 was passing. But was it accidental ? In trying 
 to answer that question, Reuben could not forget 
 the scene in the wood last night, and its probable
 
 118 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 connection with Nobby's presence here. In the 
 fury of his disappointment about the plunder, 
 and which would only be the more maddening 
 that he had lost it all by his own excessive pre- 
 cautions and want of reasonable faith in his pupil 
 and late companion, would he not be apt to recur 
 to the idea of striving to make Eeuben go on 
 upon the old basis, or of exposing and ruining 
 him if he declined to resume the partnership ? 
 
 Would it not be best for him to go boldly down 
 to the public -house, get hold of Nobby Bob with- 
 out any one knowing that they were not strangers, 
 and learn from his own lips what he was after ? 
 No ; to do that would be only subjecting himself 
 and Nobby Bob to increased danger — to possible 
 quarrels; and for what? to evade an evil that 
 had, perhaps, no real existence. Nobby Bob 
 might be just as desirous to remain unknown 
 where he was as Reuben could possibly wish him 
 to be. Of course, he must have seen the bill. 
 He could not have reached the public-house 
 without passing it. 
 
 He determined finally to do his best to ignore 
 his old master's presence in the neighbourhood, 
 and see if he did not presently move off. At tea- 
 time the ladies consequently found him more 
 cheerful. But this change was of short continu- 
 ance. Happening to cross the room to fetch a
 
 SUNDAY AT XORTHOPE. 119 
 
 book that Mrs. Maxfield had just been recom- 
 mending to him to look at, he saw a man moving 
 about among the pines on the heath beyond the 
 little river ; a second glance told him it was 
 Nobby Bob on the look-out — perhaps for him. 
 
 Once more Eeuben's appetite was effectually 
 spoiled. 
 
 After tea a walk was proposed, and Reuben, of 
 course, agreed, but took care to express a wish 
 to ascend the heath towards the hiU, so as to 
 keep them from going in Nobby Bob's present 
 direction. But while they were all seated on a 
 rock high up the slope, and Bella was timidly 
 indicating the characteristic points of the beauty 
 of the scenery, Reuben saw dimly a figure hover- 
 ing about the house he had just quitted, and 
 grew almost beside himself with suppressed pas- 
 sion and fear. Did Nobby Bob intend to rob 
 these ladies once more ? Had he heard of theii* 
 supposed wealth ? Did he know how unprotected 
 they usually were ? Reuben's teeth set hard, 
 and his eye blazed with an almost savage light, 
 as he thought of these things, and watched the 
 movements of that distant figure, which he could 
 only see at intervals, and which, in spite of aU 
 his attempts at self-persuasion, he felt sure was 
 that of the hard-headed, merciless-handed burglar. 
 
 When they got home a new kind of experience
 
 120 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 waited Eeuben. The blinds were let down in 
 the sitting-room, the lamp was lighted and placed 
 ready on the round table, and near it was a big, 
 handsomely-bound book, which Keuben knew 
 must be a Bible. His thoughts instantly rushed 
 to the idea — would they want him to read in it ? 
 He hoped not. The mere fancy seemed to bring 
 out a cold perspiration all over him. 
 
 " Mr. Polwarth," said the elder lady, " we don't 
 usually go to church on a Sunday evening, but, 
 instead, we read a chapter in the Bible, and have 
 prayers afterwards. You won^t object to join, 
 us?" 
 
 What could Reuben say ? He simply bowed 
 his head. 
 
 " Would you like to read the chapter ? " 
 Keuben coloured — hesitated, then turned to 
 Bella, and said, without exactly refusing — 
 
 " Perhaps the young lady wouldn't mind " 
 
 Bella also blushed at this appeal, but took the 
 book, and read the first chapter of the story of 
 Ruth. When she had finished, Reuben said, to 
 her surprise — 
 
 *' Would you mind reading a little more ? " 
 
 So she read another chapter. Then, seeing 
 how rapt her listener was in the story, she 
 said — 
 
 ** Would you like me to finish it ? "
 
 SU-N'DAT AT NORTHOPE. 121 
 
 " Very much/' 
 
 " There are but two chapters more/' She 
 finished these, and then there was a silence for 
 some minutes. At last the mother's voice said — 
 
 "Let us pray." And she and her daughter 
 both knelt. Just for one moment Reuben seemed 
 to rebel against this fresh entanglement. 'WTiat 
 had he to do with praying — yet ? That might 
 all come in good time — when he had grown up 
 into respectability and honesty. But he knew 
 that if he did not kneel there must be explana- 
 tions, trouble, and probably a speedy depai'ture 
 from Xorthope. So he knelt, with a strange 
 kind of protest in his soul, partly directed against 
 the idea of submission, partly against the self- 
 imputed charge of hypocrisy, which Reuben did 
 not feel inclined to plead guilty to. 
 
 He knelt. And Mrs. Maxfield prayed. First 
 for enlightenment as to all duties ; then for grace 
 to perform them ; then for her daughter, and 
 self, and neighbours ; and then came some words 
 which touched Reuben to the quick — they seemed 
 to suggest something so absolutely new to him. 
 These were her words : — 
 
 " And do thou, Father, look down upon this 
 stranger whom Thou hast brought into these 
 unfamiliar places and ways. Quicken in him the
 
 122 ONE AGAINST THE WOULD. 
 
 good seed Thou liast sown to-day in bis heart. 
 Eepay to him, through Thy bounty, the debt we 
 owe. Prosper all his righteous undertakings ; 
 but all in Thine own good time, and only as Thou 
 wilt. Amen ! Amen ! " 
 
 Beuben heard the soft sigh near him that fol- 
 lowed this prayer in his behalf, and felt for the 
 moment as if he would have given worlds to be 
 able to ask them yet to stay as they were, if only 
 for a single minute longer, while he, borne up by 
 their strength and goodness, might venture also 
 to put up his appeal, not for himself — he felt that 
 was yet far, far off — no, but for them. He could 
 almost have prayed audibly for them if he had 
 loiown how — or dared to try. 
 
 But the mood died as rapidly as it had sprung 
 into life, and he rose seemingly cold and im- 
 passive ; and but for the warm, lingering pressure 
 of his hand as he wished them both good night 
 — a pressure that was even more marked for Mrs. 
 Maxfield than for her daughter — they might have 
 fancied him almost offended by the allusion to 
 himself. And, as Bella was herself startled, 
 almost pained, by her mother's obvious reference 
 to his previous inexperience in religious matters, 
 or utter indifference to them, she concluded he 
 might be even more unpleasantly affected. But
 
 SUNDAY AT NORTHOPE. 123 
 
 there was no mistaking that warm, lingering 
 grasp. 
 
 Keuben went to bed, resolving many things, 
 and feeling altogether more truly miserable than 
 he had ever yet felt before in the whole course 
 of his life. He was so engrossed in his own 
 trouble that he forgot for a time the danger that 
 had recently threatened through his late com- 
 panion.
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 PUPIL AND MASTER IN A NEW RELATION. 
 
 Hour after hour Reuben walked about his 
 room trying to think, but getting only more and 
 more confused under the incessant stream of new 
 ideas, new dangers, new notions of his past, new 
 despair as to his future. To change his life had 
 seemed till quite recently but a very simple affair, 
 a balance of probabilities and proprieties, in 
 which, when he had made up his mind, he had 
 only to go to work and speedily reach the goal. 
 He began dimly to see now how exquisitely ab- 
 surd, how profoundly ignorant such notions had 
 been. He had evidently undertaken a dreary 
 and almost hopeless task. Should he ever, for 
 instance, meet with kinder people than he had 
 here met with, yet how would they look upon 
 him ? — where would be their kindness if they 
 only knew the truth ? Would they keep him in 
 their house ? — -and if they would could he bear 
 to be in it ? Must they not be for ever secretly 
 speculating on the risks they ran ; ever fancying
 
 PUPIL AND MASTEPw IN A NEW RELATION. 125 
 
 a double meaning in his words and actions ; ever 
 anticipating some kind of outburst or explosion 
 which for that verv reason would surely come in 
 so overcharged an atmosphere ? 
 
 Hark I Surely he heard a noise ? No, it was 
 only the creaking of a newly-planted young tree, 
 as it was swayed about by the breeze and rubbed 
 its trunk against the supporting stake. He had 
 noticed it during the evening. 
 
 Well, he will go to bed, and try if sleep will 
 bring back to him his old resolute and cheerful 
 spirit, for he is sadly shaken one way and 
 another ; perhaps through the long midnight 
 run of the previous night, and the very short 
 period of subsequent rest. 
 
 Hark ! Again the noise, which is ceiiainly 
 not now the creaking of the young apple-tree. 
 It is more like the wrenching of a window-frame 
 out of its place in the sitting-room below. Care- 
 fully avoiding to change the position of his light, 
 or to touch the blind, or to let his shadow fall 
 upon it, he steals to the window, and peers 
 through the slight opening left at the side of the 
 blind into the outer darkness. For a time he 
 can see nothing but the stars faintly gleaming 
 in the water. He hears, however, only too plainly 
 the continuance of some operations going on at 
 the window below.
 
 126 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 ** He'll come out a little from the wall of the 
 house to look up before long, if I am not mis- 
 taken," thought Eeuben to himself, as he waited, 
 hesitating in thought whether he had time to 
 wait safely, or whether he ought not instantly to 
 give warning. But he had rightly guessed. The 
 man, who was wearing crape over his face, did 
 just glide out from the house a yard or two to 
 look up, and was at once recognised by Eeuben, 
 who himself remained unseen. 
 
 The latter lost not a moment. He opened his 
 door — ran towards Mrs. Maxfield's door — then 
 stopped as if changing his mind — went to Bella's 
 — tapped lightly, and as much like her mother 
 would tap as he could. The door was opened, 
 and Bella appeared half undressed, but with a 
 large shawl thrown over her shoulders. She 
 stared, and was almost ready to scream with the 
 sudden fright, having believed it was her mother 
 who had knocked. 
 
 " Dear Miss Maxfield," said Reuben, in agi- 
 tated tones, *' don't be frightened, but I fear 
 there is a man trying to get into the 
 house." 
 
 " O mother ! mother ! " 
 
 " I thought I would warn you first, that you 
 might warn her. We must be absolutely silent. 
 There is no time to seek fresh help, nor is there
 
 PUPIL AND MASTER IN A NEW RELATION. 127 
 
 any need. If you will only be calm, and place 
 trust in me '* 
 
 " Trust— Oh— with our lives ! " 
 
 "Very well. Keep in this part of the house. 
 Let no sign of movement he visible outside. Is 
 the gun I saw loaded ? " 
 
 " No, no." 
 
 *' And you have no means of loading it ? " 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 " Quick, then ; even before you wake your 
 mother. Come to me, outside the parlour- door. 
 Don't trust yourself within, or your mother, 
 whatever may happen. He is there now, trying 
 to force the window without noise." 
 
 They instantly separated ; Bella going for the 
 ammunition, of which her father . had left an 
 ample supply, properly guarded against deteriora- 
 tion; and Eeuben, throwing off his shoes, steal- 
 ing down the stairs to reach the scene of Nobby 
 Bob's new undertaking. 
 
 He opened the door softly ; the room was ver}- 
 dark ; and, as the passage behind him was still 
 darker, he was in no danger of being seen by one 
 coming from the window, unless, indeed, the 
 burglar was already in the room, and waiting, 
 with murderous weapon in hand, to strike the 
 first person who entered. But he was not in. 
 He was still outside, and at work at the glass
 
 1*28 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 door ; and, as the blinds had been drawn up after 
 praj'ers, that they might look out into the garden 
 and upon the night, Eeuben saw the man's form 
 distinctly through the window, and understood 
 Nobby Bob's difficulty. The glass door was just 
 one of those slight obstacles that could have 
 been removed by a mere rude jerk, if such 
 directness of operation were practicable, which 
 it was not, for every attempt, however slight, 
 made a noise, which suggested only too plainly 
 the danger of much greater noise — perhaps a 
 crash of glass, if the difficulty were not tenderly 
 handled. So Nobby Bob tried to prise it open 
 little by little, in all sorts of places, but no 
 matter how much it gave way in one place it 
 seemed only to hold tighter in another, and 
 spring back quite vivaciously when he let it go. 
 Eeuben could hear Nobby Bob grinding his teeth 
 after two or three failures of this kind. 
 
 He now stepped back into the passage to re- 
 ceive the ammunition from Bella, and to whisper 
 to her, 
 
 " Warn your mother now ; but be sure to keep 
 her quiet, and to keep away from here both of 
 you. I will guard you with my life." 
 
 Bella fled, too much agitated to speak, and 
 Reuben again passed into the room to get the 
 gun.
 
 PUPIL AND PIASTER IN A NEW RELATION. 1^9 
 
 It was a bold thing to do — that going right 
 across the room to the mantelpiece while Xobby 
 Bob stood outside and possibly with his eyes at 
 that very moment directed towards him, doing 
 their best to penetrate the obscurity of the room, 
 in order to guard against interruption. But 
 Beuben walked as coolly across, and gazed as 
 defiantly at the burglar the while, as if it did not 
 matter one jot to him whether Xobby Bob knew 
 or did not know of his movements. But Reuben 
 was inly saying to himself, 
 
 " One minute I One minute ! — that is all I 
 want. If the prayers will do that for me I shall 
 begin to have faith." 
 
 He got his minute, and it was remarkable that 
 Reuben expended every one of its sixty seconds 
 with as much sang froid as if time were precisely 
 the element in which he just then abounded. 
 We mean that he took unusual precautions in 
 loading; partly, perhaps, because he knew he 
 had not had very much experience with such 
 weapons; and still more because he had a dis- 
 tinct impression that his own life would probably 
 be the cost of any mistake or inefficiency witli 
 regard to the business in hand. He finished the 
 loading precisely at the very moment that Nobby 
 Bob thrust open the glass door and stepped 
 inside.
 
 130 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 " Shall I shoot him, and so have done with 
 him ? He will not then harm these women. 
 Come, come, Gent Rube, don't gammon yourself. 
 Shall I shoot him, because it would be uncom- 
 monly convenient to me ? " 
 
 There was a pause — one of fearful significance 
 to one of the two men. But Reuben did not 
 fire ; he spoke, instead, to his old companion, in 
 a suppressed whisper. 
 
 " Hush, Nobby Bob ! " 
 
 "Ha!" 
 
 " Hush ! You know me ? " 
 
 " The young un ? " 
 
 *' Yes. What do you want here ? Speak 
 softly." 
 
 There was a low, brutal laugh in answer, and 
 it was the only answer. 
 
 " Nobby Bob, you had better answer me." 
 
 " Well, then, t'other swag's gone ; I been done 
 brown, and lost it all. These are rich, comfort- 
 able ladies, I hear. No doubt youM like to do 
 it all on your own hook ; but, honour bright, 
 pals is pals, and I must have my share." 
 
 " You think then I came here to — to — rob 
 these people ? " 
 
 Again, a brutal, low laugh was the only reply 
 Nobby Bob condescended to give. 
 
 *' You are mistaken both as to me and them.
 
 PUPIL AND MASTER IN A NEW RELATION. 131 
 
 They are not rich, and I'm not here to rob. I 
 told you my mind and purpose in the wood." 
 
 " Well, it'll go hard with you, young un, if 
 that be true, and I blows up the whole busi- 
 ness." 
 
 " But why should you ? " 
 
 " That depends on the valley received." 
 
 " I have no money except a few shillings and 
 that which was in the purse you gave me. You 
 shall have the contents of the purse if you like, 
 if you will go quietly away, and swear to me 
 never again to cross my path." 
 
 " Out of the road, will you ? Now, harkye, 
 young un, did I ever larn you that kind of game ? 
 AVhat's one pound, fifteen shillings, and sixpence 
 ha'penny ? I counted it well before handing it 
 over ; you may be sure o' that. What's that to 
 me ? Why, I ha** spent a fortin' in coming down 
 here, and I mean to have some of it back. Do 
 what you like. Go snacks, and go off together ; 
 or you stay, and let me manage as I like." 
 
 "Nobby Bob, I don't want to hurt you; I 
 don't, indeed ! " 
 
 " In-deed ! Young un, mind this ! You were 
 sharp lately with your pointed knife. No more 
 tricks. Hear that ? " 
 
 Reuben heard plainly enough the click of a 
 revolver, and his heart, in spite of himself, began. 
 
 K 2
 
 132 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 to beat tumultuously, thougii he still felt master 
 of his brain and will. 
 
 " Nobby Bob, you are a dead man if you move 
 a step further ! " 
 
 Nobby Bob^s only reply was to rush forward, 
 intending, perhaps, to grapple with Reuben with 
 his strong left hand, while he reserved in his 
 right the power to fire if he should see occasion 
 or necessity ; of course he did not want to rouse 
 the house if he could help it. 
 
 But in that instant there was a flash in the 
 dark room, an explosion that made the glass of 
 the windows rattle violently; then another with 
 like effects; and then prolonged screams from 
 some other part of the house burst forth. 
 
 But though no art, no entreating could induce 
 Mrs. Maxfield to go to the parlour, Bella found 
 it impossible to keep away. When she reached 
 the door of the room with a candle, she called 
 out, — 
 
 " jNIr. Polwarth ! Mr. Polwarth ! speak to 
 me." 
 
 " Come in," shouted Reuben. She went in, 
 and saw lying there, bathed in his own blood, 
 which was pouring from his mouth in spite of his 
 attempts to stay it with a handkerchief, the 
 same ruffian that had stopped her and her 
 mother on tlie hill and robbed them; while
 
 PUPIL AND MASTER IN A NEW RELATION. 138 
 
 Eeuben, pale as death, was standing over him, 
 looking down sadly, yet sternly, with the terrible 
 weapon of death half dropped by one hand list- 
 lessly to the ground, where it rested, though still 
 feebly held in the trembling fingers, while the 
 other hand and arm hung as if broken or 
 paralysed by his side. 
 
 "Dead? Is he dead? God!" exclaimed 
 Bella. 
 
 Reuben did not answer. He still watched the 
 dying man, whose face changed every instant its 
 livid hues, and whose lips were moving in a 
 vain effort to speak. At last he managed, by 
 gesture, to show he wanted Eeuben to listen to 
 him; who, instantly throwing down the gun, 
 knelt by his side and put his ear to the white, 
 coarse lips, now covered with bubbles of blood 
 and foam, and said, — 
 
 " What is it ? I will do anything I can for 
 you if you will but speak." 
 
 " The chick— the little baby." 
 
 " A child of yours — a boy ? " 
 
 The dying man nodded. 
 
 "How shall I find him?" 
 
 Nobby Bob tried to move his hand towards his 
 vest, but could not. 
 
 " Direction in your pocket ? " 
 
 Again there was a drop of the head, either
 
 134 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 through mortal weakness or in token of assent. 
 Then, as if in an expiring effort, Nobby Bob 
 hoarsely murmured, *' Billy Marks." 
 
 " Knows where your money is ? No ? has got 
 it himself?" 
 
 The dying man seemed to assent, and Reuben 
 said, — 
 
 " I'll see him. I swear to you I will, if he's to 
 be found. Anything more ? " 
 
 The burglar started as if -again shot, rose on 
 one knee, glared frightfully at Bella and Reuben, 
 and then fell back stiff and heavy on the ground. 
 
 " Let me take you away. He is dead." Reuben 
 could not but add within the depths of his own 
 soul, " And I, God, am free at last ! "
 
 CHAPTEE XV. 
 
 MR. JESSOP ON TRUFFLE-HUNTIXG. 
 
 Nothing is more remarkable in the phenomena 
 of life than the viaj in which events, seemingly- 
 having no sort of connection with each other, are 
 really but links in an unbroken chain of cause 
 and effect. Thus Nobby Bob's tragical end would 
 certainly not have happened in the way it did, if 
 only that unfortunate gentleman had not found 
 the " swag " disappear so strangely from its 
 hiding-place at the foot of the blasted oak in 
 the wood. It was that fact which prej^ed so 
 deeply on Nobby Bob's mind, as to make him 
 disregard his sworn promise to his young pupil 
 and companion never to molest him again ; and 
 which made him equally oblivious of the personal 
 danger he ran into by once more crossing his late 
 partner's path. Those two bags full of plate and 
 jewels, which had been obtained and carried off 
 with so much skill, courage, and danger, were 
 lost to him ; and the knowledge half-maddened 
 Nobby Bob's brain.
 
 136 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 And how was it that Nobby Bob had incurred 
 this disappointment ? Had he not (as he had 
 thought) most skilfully thrown the stranger — the 
 tramping shoemaker — off the scent when the 
 latter came upon him so suddenly that early 
 morning while he was on his knees digging away 
 at the hole ? " Truffles ! " Surely that was an 
 explanation as sufficient as it was ingenious ? 
 What right, then, had the tramping shoemaker 
 to suspect anything false in th^ statement ? Had 
 not Nobby Bob, with characteristic caution, kept 
 the bags concealed all the while he was making 
 the hole by placing them under the fern ? These 
 were the questions that the discontented Nobby 
 Bob had asked himself; and, being unable to 
 obtain a satisfactory reply, his thoughts and de- 
 sires for vengeance all turned the more keenly 
 towards Gent Rube, whom he looked on as the 
 true author of his disappointments, and who he 
 persisted in thinking was separating from his 
 *'pal " only to do better for himself alone. 
 
 Let us, then, clear up the fact that was so 
 mysterious to Nobby Bob before we again revert 
 to the tragical scene that closed our last chapter. 
 
 It was on the Saturday morning preceding the 
 Sunday night of the conflict in Mrs. Maxfield's 
 house that Mr. Thomas Jessop, the big landlord 
 of " The Traveller's Joy," when he took up his
 
 MR. JESSOP ON TKUFFLE -HUNTING. 137 
 
 usual place of bodily repose and mental activity 
 for the day — the great armchair — found a man 
 drinking a cup of coffee and eating an enormous 
 slice of bread and butter, which the kind-hearted 
 landlady had set before him on his first coming 
 in and saying he was cold, and asking if she 
 could let him have something to warm him up a 
 bit, for he had been out all night ; and therewith 
 he told his story, the same that had been pre- 
 viously told to Nobby Bob. 
 
 Although there was nothing particular in the 
 story, still the warm-hearted little woman re- 
 peated it to her husband — who was, it must be 
 observed, a bit of a gossip — and he, too, found it 
 sufficiently interesting, if only because it seemed 
 to show he mustn't expect payment for the break- 
 fast that was being furnished and devoured with 
 so much gusto. But the man noticed the air of 
 half-resignation to inevitable loss, and the con- 
 descending tone of the remark, — 
 
 *' I dare say. Missus, he could drink another 
 cup of coffee if you were to offer him one;" and 
 he at once said, with an honest flush upon his 
 face, — 
 
 " No mistakes, Mister. I can't pay much for 
 what you give me ; but I do pay." 
 
 " Eh ? Why I thought you said you hadn't 
 had enough for youi' bed, and so was turned out ? "
 
 138 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 "Ay; but I had a bit of an adventure in the 
 wood where I walked this morning, after my cold 
 bed on the ground in that stony and windy 
 cottage." 
 
 " An adventure — lor ! " exclaimed the little 
 black-eyed wife, doing full justice by her tone to 
 her expectation of something exciting to come. 
 
 " An adventure — eh ? " observed the landlord, 
 with more self-control, but looking towards the 
 good-humoured face of the tramp with a certain 
 cheering twinkle of the eye, as if to say, " You 
 may go on." 
 
 " Well, for me it was an adventure, because it 
 put me into funds for paying for my break- 
 fast." 
 
 " Aha ! Come, then, let's hear all about it," 
 said Mr. Jessop, always glad to make the most of 
 everything in the shape of adventure that came 
 across his ordinarily uneventful life. 
 
 " Well, I was looking about for a pool of water 
 that I had seen gleaming from the high ground 
 in front of the ruined cottage ; for I wanted to 
 cool my head and wash my hands and face, and 
 make myself a bit decent-like after my night's 
 debauch. Oh, don't look at me, pray, missus; 
 it's too bad on me, I know. I won't be such a 
 fool again in a hurry, you may be sure of that. 
 Well, I got down the bank, crossed the high
 
 Mil- JESSOP ON TP.UFFLE-nr>-TiyG. 139 
 
 road and ascended the other bank, and went 
 towards an old tree that seemed to have been 
 struck with lightning some time or other/' 
 
 "I know it well; we call it the blasted oak. 
 Ah ! it was a night when that oak was split in 
 two and twisted about as yon now see it, and its 
 great branches shivered into bits small enou^ 
 for tooth-picks," said the landlord. 
 
 ** Suddenly, as I was treading on the soft fern, 
 I was pulled up all in a minute by seeing a man 
 on his knees digging a hole." 
 
 The landlord looked at his wife, and she looked 
 at him, every bit of colour flying ont of her cheeks 
 at the bare apprehension of what that hole might 
 be for. 
 
 **It was a queer thing to find a man doing 
 almost before it was light, wasn't it ? In snch a 
 place, too ? " 
 
 " I should think it was," said the landlord. 
 
 " ' Had he murdered somebody, and was he 
 going to bury the body here?* thought I to 
 myself. And then I said to myself, * Now, don't 
 be a fool. Does he look like a murderer? 
 Wouldn^t a murderer be looking about him* eTery 
 minute ? ' " 
 
 " I know I should if I were to go abont such 
 jobs," observed the giant landlord. 
 
 " Lor ! Thomas. As if you could mrurder any-
 
 140 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 body ! " interposed the landlord's wife. " Why, 
 he won't kill a fly if he can help it/' added she, 
 addressing the remark to the tramp. 
 
 " 'Wouldn't a murderer be all of a tremble ? ' 
 I asked myself." 
 
 " Well, I wouldn't like to trust my limbs on 
 such a business if they mustn't tremble. I 
 wouldn't answer for 'em under any such condi- 
 tions and regulations," responded the land- 
 lord. 
 
 "Go on ! " whispered, almost breathlessly, the 
 landlady. 
 
 " So I put my hand on his shoulder, and spoke 
 to him," continued the tramp. 
 
 " Was he sui-prised ? " eagerly asked the land- 
 lord. 
 
 " Well, I thought at first he was. He took 
 just a sudden look at me, then turned to look at 
 the hole again, and seemed making solne queer 
 movements ; but then he turned quite round and 
 looked me ftill in the face, and told me he was 
 truffle-hunting." 
 
 " Truffle-hunting ! " echoed the landlord. 
 
 " Truffles, Thoii:as ? " questioned the land- 
 lord's wife. 
 
 *' Well, I won't say but I have heard of truffles 
 in that wood ; and there used many years ago 
 to be a man who got his living in that way. But
 
 MR. JESSOP OX TRUFFLE -HUNTING. 1-41 
 
 he died, and I never heard of another taking 
 to his calling in these j^arts." 
 
 " Well, I told him my night's adventure, and 
 he was kind enough to lend me a shilling, though 
 I warned him it would likely he a long time 
 hefore I x^aid him back. That's my adventure, 
 and there's my shilling ; out of which please to 
 take pay for my breakfast." 
 
 " Nothing particular, I suppose, about the 
 appearance of the truffle-hunter ? He didn't 
 hunt truffles in genteel black clothes ? " 
 
 " No, indeed ; he was dressed like a jobbing 
 carpenter, in white flannel, or something of that 
 kind.^' 
 
 " Oh, indeed ! " said Mr. Jessftp, with a short 
 and careless tone, as if he had suddenly lost all 
 interest in the subject. 
 
 " But this I will say,^' added the man, laugh- 
 ingly, " though he proved himself my friend and 
 benefactor, and therefore I oughtn^t to say it, 
 that I thought — I mean before he lent me the 
 shilling — that Fd never seen a more villanous- 
 looking countenance." 
 
 *' Light coloured, pig-like hair ? " 
 
 " I couldn't see very well, it was so early." 
 
 "Grating voice?" 
 
 " Decidedly." 
 
 "Short arms?"
 
 142 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 " Well, now you ask me, I do remember some- 
 thing odd about his appearance in the upper 
 works, which might be owing to partikarly short 
 arms/' 
 
 " Missus— quick— that bill !" 
 
 Off went Mrs. Jessop, and presently brought 
 back from the recesses of the bar a large poster, 
 the one already familiar to the readers of this 
 history. 
 
 " Read that ' Notice ! ' '^ said Mr. Jessop, 
 letting his hand fall with most impressive weight 
 and sound on the hollow table. 
 
 The tramp read the bill through ; then put on 
 his hat, and said, 
 
 " Would you* mind trusting me till I come 
 back ? I might want, you know, to repay my 
 benefactor his shilling." 
 
 " All right ; only do come back, if it's only to 
 tell us how you find matters. I'll forgive 3'ou the 
 breakfast." 
 
 *' Good-bye, then, for a bit, master landlord. 
 I'm not going stealing other people's property, 
 mind you that ; bear me witness as to that. I'm 
 only going, in the interest of my betters, truffle - 
 hunting." 
 
 Both the men laughed. And off went the 
 tramp, leaving the little hostess gazing with 
 widely-parted lips after him, and the landlord
 
 ilE. JESSOP Oy TPXFFLE -HUNTING. 143 
 
 muttering something very like an imprecation 
 upon his rotundity of body and limb, that he 
 couldn't run off on the same interesting business, 
 that he saw was in aU probability about to be 
 done.
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE STOLEN TREASURE. 
 
 The man walked fast, certainly, as he quitted 
 *' The Traveller's Joy ;" but he did not run un- 
 til he had left the last vestige of human beings 
 or human habitations behind ; but then, when he 
 saw he was quite beyond observation, he started 
 off at what seemed the very top of his speed, but 
 which got faster and faster as his excited thoughts 
 began to revel on the dawning prospect. 
 
 " Here's a chance for a poor fellow, if only — if 
 I'm right, and if only I'm the first ! But I am 
 such an unlucky devil ! It'll be sure to turn out 
 all a mistake ; or else he'll have altered his mind 
 after seeing rae ; or else he'll have come back 
 again before me ; or else somebody else may 
 have been watching who wouldn't be so green as 
 I am. Never mind, I'll know all about it. Lord ! 
 Lord ! If it should be there still ! All the 
 Squire's plate, and most precious jewels ! He 
 must do something handsome for me, if I take 
 them all to him. Will they be too heavy to
 
 THE STOLEN TREASURE. 1-45 
 
 carry, I wonder ? By Jove ! but it'll be a very 
 heavy load indeed, if I don't manage to get along 
 under it somehow ! 
 
 " I'm getting out of breath ; never mind, if Vm 
 only getting into cash. What a start this may 
 be ! If only he w^as to give me fifty pounds ! 
 Why not ? I'd go home and show all the money 
 to my wife — make her believe I'd robbed some- 
 body, and the police were after me ; and then, 
 when she'd got to be thoroughly miserable, tell 
 the silly fool the truth, and bu}^ her a new dress 
 to begin with, before setting up on my own 
 account, and making her my ' cashier.' 
 
 *' There's the tree. I don't see anybody about. 
 No; all's quiet. Now, then, am I to be lucky 
 this once, or not ? If I am, I'll swear never to 
 get drunk again, but go home and turn respect- 
 able, and go to chapel every Sunday, and do lots 
 of other sensible things. But if I'm unlucky, 
 ni give the game up, and say, as I have often 
 said before — Oh, I know — my usual luck ! What's 
 the use of trying ? 
 
 " Let's see, it should be hereabout. I don't 
 see any signs of new earth. I couldn't have 
 mistaken the place, surely ? It seems to me it 
 was just here, where my foot now is. But this 
 fern doesn't seem to have been disturbed. Let's 
 try if it gives way at all."
 
 146 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 After a few tolerably strong stampings with his 
 feet, the tramp got upon the little clump of fern, 
 and it sank — not much, it is true, but just enough 
 to tell him he was in the right place. Having no 
 tools at hand, and being too eager to try to make 
 any out of the fallen timber and sticks lying 
 about, he fell to with his hands. The lump of 
 earth with the fern growing on it was soon felt to 
 move, soon got out, and there lay the treasure — 
 in the two green-baize bags, just as Nobby Bob 
 had deposited them. 
 
 The tramp did not long pause in his gloating 
 survey of the contents of the hole. Having 
 dragged the bags out, he hurriedly refilled the 
 hole, carefully placing the shilling in a little 
 hollow, and saying to himself, with a laugh, 
 
 " Won't he be mad when he sees that ? He 
 ought to take warning by it, and never tell lies 
 again. Truffles, eh ! '* 
 
 He next slung the bags over his shoulder, and 
 set off walking, as fast as he could under such a 
 burden, back towards " The Traveller's Joy." 
 
 Wonderful, indeed, was the excitement he 
 produced there when he entered an hour or so 
 later, bathed in sweat, his face heated to a crimson 
 glow and his limbs trembling with fatigue and 
 excitement. 
 
 " Here they are," he shouted out as he crossed
 
 THE STOLEN TREASURE. 147 
 
 the threshold. " Here are the truffles I've been 
 hunting up for the Squire ! No, no; hands off I 
 All respect to you, Mr. Landlord, but I don't 
 mean to let anybody open these bags till the 
 Squire himself does it." 
 
 " Quite right — quite right," said Mr. Jessop ; 
 "you're in luck, old fellow." 
 
 *' It ain't often, then, I can tell you. Come, 
 missus, a pint of your best ale just to refresh me, 
 and then I'm off again." 
 
 While he was drinking the ale, the landlord 
 began to think to himself he ought to make quite 
 sure the Squire's property did not again disap- 
 pear now that it was so happily recovered. But 
 the tramp spared him all anxiety on that sub- 
 ject by saying, as he wiped his lips after drinking 
 the entire pint of ale at a single draught, 
 
 " Master, can you send anybodj- with me to 
 show the way ? " 
 
 " To be sure. Here— Molly ! " 
 
 *' Oh, I'll go," said a guest who had dropped 
 in. 
 
 " And I ! " echoed a second guest. 
 
 "And I !" added another. 
 
 " Come, then, be off all of you, if you're so 
 very inquisitive, and fond of helping," said the 
 landlord, with just a touch of ill-nature because 
 he couldn't himself accompany them.
 
 148 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 And so once more the tramp started on his 
 journey, with the Squire''s treasure on his back, 
 and his escort increasing at every step of the 
 way. 
 
 The Squire, an aged man, was sitting gloomily 
 alone — his lady being ill — over a late breakfast 
 in his study, for he had just been told by his 
 steward that, in spite of all his activity, all his 
 offers of large reward, there was nothing yet 
 known either of the burglars or of their 
 spoil. 
 
 " Of course they've got safely off," he muttered 
 to himself, as he put down the Globe newspaper, 
 which he had been trying to read to make him 
 forget his vexation. " Of course theyVe got 
 safely off; and by this time my plate is all melted 
 down in some of the back slums of London, and 
 my jewels, torn from their settings, are being 
 handed about among the Moseses, and Levys, and 
 Abrahams, to see who will give the most for 
 them ! Could I only catch the villains ! If only 
 I could ! 
 
 " The prize cup ! I shall never win another, 
 and I have no children of my own to make up 
 the loss. It almost looks as though a grand 
 sweep was to be made of all one's heirlooms 
 before I die, just to remind me I've no further 
 use for them — no son and heir, not even a
 
 THE STOLEN TREASURE. l49 
 
 daughter, who might bring me an heir to inherit 
 mv name and estates ! 
 
 " There's my hopeful nephew, it is true, who 
 has just now come to visit me. He would fain 
 persuade me I needn't desire a better son or a 
 truer gentleman. But I haven't a bit of faith in 
 him. No, Lieutenant Polwarth, if you do get ail 
 I have got to leave it won't be for love, I promise 
 you. Oh, here he comes." 
 
 Lieutenant Polwarth was a man of about forty, 
 of handsome face and person, but with a some- 
 thing unpleasing, almost sinister, in his expres 
 sion. He came in hurriedly, saying, — 
 
 " Good news. Sir ! — at least, I hope so. 
 There's a man with a pair of gre^n baize bags on 
 his shoulders just arrived, and half the village 
 at his tail. He won't let any one know his 
 business — not even me. He will see you, only 
 you." 
 
 " Quick, quick, Polwarth ; let him in." 
 
 The Lieutenant turned, left the room, and 
 presently came back with the tramp, who, scarcely 
 looking at anybody or anything, was content to 
 know he was before the real Squire at last ; and 
 whose first use of the knowledge was to lift the 
 bags gently and lovingly from his shoulders, put 
 them down^ and begin to wipe his streaming and 
 grimy face.
 
 150 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 " Your property, I suspect, Sir ! ^^ lie said, as 
 soon as he could draw breath to speak with due 
 solemnity to the great man. 
 
 The Squire ripped open the bags with his pen- 
 knife, and out they came in rich profusion and 
 confusion — silver cups, and jewels, and silver 
 forks and spoons, and his stately and much- 
 prized race-cup, which he took up and looked at 
 carefully all over, to see if it was injured, • but 
 found only a small dent in the side. 
 
 *' Am I right. Sir ? " asked the tramp. 
 
 '* Quite right, quite right ! And I am very 
 much obliged to you — very much, indeed." 
 
 " Not at all. Sir ; not at all,^' responded the 
 tramp, who was by no means a mercenary 
 spirit. 
 
 " Come — come — tell us all about it." 
 
 The tramp told the whole story through, which 
 was of course listened to with the greatest in- 
 terest. When he had done, the Squire said to 
 his steward, who had come in with the tramp — 
 
 " Compare these articles, Miles, with the 
 list." 
 
 Mr. Miles did so, and found, wonderful to say, 
 not a single thing missing. 
 
 The Squire grew more and more radiant with 
 satisfaction. 
 
 " Well, now, my man, what can I do for you ?
 
 THE STOLEN TREASURE . 151 
 
 You're an honest fellow, and I should hke to give 
 you a lift." 
 
 The tramp scratched his head, and kept his 
 good-humoured face fixed wonderingly on the 
 Squu-e, who had put the matter in a shape quite 
 unexpected. 
 
 " Oh, whatever you think best, Sir," he said at 
 last, with a faint sense at his heart that his hold 
 of the expected gratuity that was to have set him 
 on his legs for life was vanishing. 
 
 " What do you want to do ? " 
 
 *' Set up in business on my own account." 
 
 " What as ? " 
 
 " A small master shoemaker." 
 
 "And where?" 
 
 " Wherever it pleases Heaven and my luck to 
 fix me." 
 
 " Well, if I may step in between the two things 
 you have so oddly put together, and say, there's 
 room for a careful shoemaker in the village here, 
 and that you shall have the custom of my family 
 to begin with, what think you ? " 
 
 " I'm very poor, Sir," was the reply. 
 
 " What ! You mean you couldn't give me a 
 year or two's credit, I suppose ? " 
 
 The tramp looked at the Squire, and could not 
 help a laugh as he saw the Squire's latent smile, 
 but he said —
 
 153 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 ** To tell you the truth, Sir, I've been a bit 
 unstead}^ ; and if I'm to have a chance to get on 
 better, and not disgrace your honour's patronage, 
 I must have my wife here, and get things a bit 
 comfortable ; and then I do think I could settle 
 down and become a decent sort of man." 
 
 " Oh, but I see you want a fortune to begin 
 with ; and I can't promise that." 
 
 "Yes, Sir," said the tramp, sadly; "there's a 
 deal of money wanted to fetch the wife and clear 
 up where she is, and buy leather and tools, and 
 pay wages if I gets more to do than I can manage 
 myself." 
 
 " What sort of a workman are you ? " 
 
 " Well, Sir, though I say it as shouldn't say it, 
 I could undertake to turn out as good work as 
 you can get in London itself." 
 
 " Ay, but the cost — the cost of the whole 
 affair ? " 
 
 " Well, Sir, if it's too much, never mind. I 
 can but go on as I am ; but I don't think, to be 
 honest, I could make a good job of myself under 
 thirteen pounds ten shillings, as well as I can 
 calkelate." 
 
 " What's your name ? " 
 
 "JohnPlackham, Sir.'' 
 
 " Mr. Miles, pay John Plackham fourteen 
 pounds at once, and if he chooses to come and
 
 THE STOLEN TREASURE. 153 
 
 settle here, and behaves himself to your satis- 
 faction, I authorise you to advance him, from 
 time to time, up to fifty pounds." 
 
 Poor John Plackham, as he heard, did not 
 throw up his hat in a transport of joy, nor did 
 he drop down on his knees in a heartfelt burst 
 of gratitude ; he simply began to tremble, while 
 the tears came into his eyes, and his lips quivered 
 as he strove to speak. 
 
 " There, there, I understand," said the Squire, 
 holding out his hand, which John Plackham 
 shook with startling vehemence, then stood 
 aghast at his own boldness, but finally managed 
 to say — 
 
 " Well, Squire, you have made my poor wife 
 a happy woman to-day ; as to myself. 111 say 
 nothing. Least said soonest mended.-*' 
 
 " Good-bye ! " 
 
 and God bless vou, Sir ! "
 
 CHAPTER XVLL 
 
 MEL THOMAS JESSOP UXDEETAKES A JOUEXET. 
 
 The giant landlord had scarcelv settled to his 
 usual post on the following Monday morning, 
 when his (^tler and lad-of-all-work came nmning 
 in in a fearfbl state of excitement. 
 
 ** Oh ! please Master, there's heen such a rob- 
 bery and murder at Mrs. Maxfield's, at Northope." 
 
 "Bobbeiy ! murder ! " echoed the big landlord, 
 a^bast. 
 
 "WeD, I don't know the exact rights and 
 wrongs of the matter myself; but the man in the 
 mail-cart told me as he went bjr at the cross 
 roads that a man had tried to break into the 
 widow's house at Northope, and that he had been 
 shot by another man that happened, all pro- 
 miscuous like, to be in the house." 
 
 Before Mr. Thomas Jessop could come to a 
 dear result as to the meaning of this new story, 
 which he felt instinctiYely related to his two 
 visitors, he reeeired a summons to a coroner^s in- 
 quest^ to be held that Tery evening at Northope.
 
 MR. THOMAS JESSOP UNDERTAKES A JOURNEY. 155 
 
 By-and-by a servant came in from the Hall, 
 ■where a messenger had arrived to the Squire 
 requesting him to favour the coroner with his 
 presence, as they believed they had found the 
 robber of his mansion ; and he was particularly 
 desired to send any person who might be likely 
 to identify the man now lying dead at the little 
 beer-house at Northope with the burglar who had 
 broken into the Hall. 
 
 " Easy to say a thing. Mister Jessop, but not 
 alius so easy to do it. The Squire don't know 
 any of us as can identify the vagabond.''^ 
 
 " Well, but the tramp could,-'^ observed Mr. 
 Jessop. 
 
 " 0' course he could ! I'll go back to the 
 Squire directly, and tell him. Happen he'll 
 send somebody to fetch the wandering shoemaker 
 if it ain't too far." 
 
 While the servant hurried back, Mr. Jessop 
 pondered on the weighty problem now offered for 
 his consideration — how was he to get to Nor- 
 thope ? If it had been one mile, instead of fif- 
 teen, he might just have managed it by walking. 
 Such an undertaking was just within the range 
 of the possible on an occasion like this. But a 
 mile was about the outside that he ever dreamed 
 of accomplishing nowadays in his most enthu- 
 siastic moods. How, then, was he to reach
 
 156 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 Nortliope ? He remembered nobody in his 
 neighbourhood who had a vehicle at all large 
 and strong enough to bear him, and manage- 
 able enough for him to get into. Then he be- 
 thought him of a small platform for his chair, 
 that he had had made a few months ago, with 
 the view that he might be wheeled out into his 
 paddock to get an airing, see to his property, &c. 
 This platform was nothing more than an exces- 
 sively strong square box of wood, about six 
 inches high, supported on very solid wheels, and 
 having a guiding-wheel and handle. Mr. Jessop 
 had soon ceased to use it — the awk^vard busi- 
 ness of getting the chair on and off the carriage 
 and himself into and out of the chair — its lia- 
 bility to glide away suddenly and treacherously 
 on smooth ground while he was just stepping on 
 to the platform — and the obvious dislike of the 
 lad to the hard work of drawing his master about 
 — all this had soon disgusted Mr. Jessop with 
 his " toy," as he called it, and induced him to 
 put it aside. 
 
 But now the lad himself, seeing his master's 
 puzzle, said, — 
 
 " Couldn't some on us draw you there, master, 
 in the chair ?" 
 
 " What ! fifteen miles, and up the hill, too, 
 a part of the way? And then down the hill,
 
 MR. THOMAS JESSOP UNDERTAKES A JOURNEY. 157 
 
 which 'ud be worse still, for there you'd let me 
 go, and I should break my neck." 
 
 The lad acknowledged there were difficulties, 
 but undertook to find a safe man to go with him. 
 
 And so, in the afternoon, Mr. Jessop set out, 
 amid the congratulations of the village, at seeing 
 him once more abroad. He sat boldly up in his 
 easy chair, guiding the course of his chariot- 
 wheels, while the two youths behind pushed 
 with a will, and cleared the village in so fine a 
 style as to promise well for their success in the 
 more arduous task of getting him up the steep 
 where Mrs. Maxfield and her daughter had been 
 robbed. 
 
 There, however, the expedition from " The 
 Traveller's Joy " would have come to an untimely 
 end, but for the welcome aid of half a dozen 
 navvies who were travelling that way towards a 
 new line of railway that was in progress of erec- 
 tion. These undertook, for a pint of beer apiece, 
 to give him a hoist. 
 
 " Hold on, maister I " one of them cried out, 
 as they stood all ready, clustering about be- 
 hind. 
 
 " Ay, ay ; all right ! " cheerily responded Mr. 
 Jessop. And away he went up the hiU, ver}' 
 much as though it had been down hill, and he 
 began to fear that in the very exuberance of their
 
 168 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 strength and gaiety of heart the}^ would decline 
 to stop when they turned the crest, and would 
 insist on seeing what they could do on the other 
 side. So he began in good time to call out, 
 with gradually increasing vehemence of tone, — 
 
 " Gently, boys ; gently ! There, that will do, 
 
 I think. — Do you hear ? What the are you 
 
 after? I say! Hold!" 
 
 And, as they paid not the least attention to 
 him, he began to speculate on how he could best 
 and most safely bring the whole affair to a sudden 
 and timely stop, when they paused of their own 
 accord, had a good laugh all round, and then 
 waited for their pay, which Mr. Jessop gave with 
 a good grace. 
 
 " Three cheers for the giant ! " said one ; and 
 the navvies, to the landlord's inexpressible vexa- 
 tion, began to shout. However, they went away 
 at last, and left him with his own more trust- 
 worthy charioteers to make the long descent, 
 with scarcely another interruption of rising 
 ground, right down into the valley. 
 
 And so the gigantic landlord made the first 
 half of that journey which became a subject of 
 gossip long years after in connection with the 
 attempted robbery at Mrs. Maxfield's. 
 
 The very first person Mr. Jessop met in 
 Northope was the man of whom he had been
 
 MR. THOMAS JESSOP UNDERTAKES A JOURNEY. 159 
 
 thinking all the day-^the young piano-tuner — 
 with one arm, the left, in a sling. And dehghted, 
 indeed, he was to see him. They shook hands 
 after a hearty laugh at the oddity of the yehicle, 
 and then the eager landlord began, — 
 
 " Was it you who shot the man who tried to 
 break in at Mrs. Maxfield's ? ^* 
 
 " Yes.^' 
 
 " And was it that man ?" 
 
 " Yes.'^ 
 
 " Goodness gracious ! How wonderful ! Do 
 you know, I couldn^t help fancying once you two 
 were connected."*' 
 
 " Oh, I saw that plain enough; and very sorry 
 I was," said Reuben. 
 
 " Well, well ; I'm sorry for the mistake, and I 
 hope we shan't be worse friends." Then the 
 landlord added, " They've summoned me to the 
 inquest." 
 
 *' Yes, I supposed they would ; and I told them 
 I had met this very man at your house." 
 
 *' That's right ! Alius, young man, be straight- 
 forrard ! It's a thousand times the best in the 
 long run." 
 
 But, to look at him, Reuben did not seem just 
 now to have much faith in the virtue of the 
 frankness so strongly recommended. He was 
 pale — absent-minded — could not be still a single
 
 160 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 instant — would look suddenly round, then relapse 
 into an almost unnatural quietness of mood. 
 
 " So, youVe found your way to these ladies ? " 
 continued Mr. Jessop. 
 
 " Yes ; they asked me so very kindly I didn't 
 like to refuse." 
 
 " AYliich of them ? " asked the landlord, rogue- 
 ishly. But Reuben did not seem to notice the 
 jest, and, as he walked down by the side of the 
 vehicle towards the little alehouse where he had 
 seen Nobby Bob's face peering forth on the 
 Sunday morning, and where now lay the remains 
 of the late burglar, he could not avoid letting 
 Mr. Jessop see something of the cause of his 
 present anxiety. 
 
 " 1 am apt to be a little careless and unthink- 
 ing when I get into society, and I must have 
 been so all those hours I was waiting at your 
 house, in the hope of seeing the servant from the 
 Hall who might satisfy me as to the likelihood of 
 a job. But it's hard — and deucedly unlucky too 
 — if such a chance meeting as that is to injure 
 one's character and prevent one's getting on. 
 Don't you think so ? " 
 
 "Why, of course I do. But why need you be 
 afraid of anything of the kind ? " 
 
 " Afraid ? That isn't much in my way ; but 
 I shouldn't like other people — people, I mean.
 
 MR. THOMAS JESSOP UNDERTAKES A JOURNEY. 161 
 
 without your good sense and kindness — to hear 
 what you said to me a little while ago." 
 
 " Of course not. I should be ashamed of my- 
 self to give utterance to any such thought. In 
 this world, lad, one is often obliged to speculate 
 upon things and to get wrong ; but then we are 
 not obliged to treat our speculations as facts, or 
 let all the world know what fools we are at par- 
 ticular times." 
 
 " I suppose you don't think it would be best 
 to say nothing about my being at your place that 
 day ; for I feel a little sensitive about these 
 ladies and what they might think, if " 
 
 " Harkye, I don't understand you a bit. You 
 said 3^ou had told the people here that you had 
 met this very man at my house.'' 
 
 *' No, no. Excuse me. I said I intended to 
 tell them.'' 
 
 " Intended ! h ! " And the landlord 
 
 began to look grave. Seeing what he had done, 
 Eeuben began to retreat, — 
 
 " I am sorry you misunderstood me." 
 
 " No misunderstanding at all, young man," 
 interrupted Mr. Jessop, with some temper. 
 
 " WeU, well ; there is an end of the matter," 
 said Eeuben. " To tell the truth you made me 
 feel ashamed of my being so hail-fellow-weU-met 
 with this poor wretch before I left your house, 
 
 TOL. I. M
 
 162 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 and I was weak enougli to wish that that bit of 
 the business might be glided over." 
 
 *' Well, well ; we'll see what can be done. But 
 alius, young man, stick to the truth ; that my 
 grandfather used to din into me ; for between 
 ourselves my poor father didn't much matter the 
 rule — says my grandfather to me by word of 
 mouth, and through innumerable copy-books, 
 where it was his favourite top line, ' Tell truth 
 and shame the devil.' " 
 
 And Eeuben, concluding that he had laid him- 
 self open to the admonition, was silent. 
 
 Before reaching the alehouse Eeuben told Mr. 
 Jessop the particulars of the late attempt, keep- 
 ing as close to the truth as he could, while care- 
 fully suppressing every word or incident that 
 might suggest to the listener's mind the old and 
 dangerous idea that his two guests had been, 
 when they met at " The Traveller's Joy," com- 
 panions in crime. 
 
 Reuben left him at the door of the alehouse, 
 saying the inquest would not be held yet for an 
 hour or two, as the Squire, he heard, had sent 
 for an important witness. 
 
 On his way back to the farm-house Reuben 
 reflected more and more gloomily on the danger 
 of his connection with Nobby Bob being disco- 
 vered. He could not conceal from himself his
 
 MR. THOMAS JESSOP UNDERTAKES A JOURNEY. 1G3 
 
 vexation and alarm at finding that he could 
 neither trick nor persuade Mr. Jessop to conceal 
 the meeting at his house. And although the 
 landlord had quite dismissed his suspicions, 
 Reuben could not but fear that some ugly and 
 unanticipated fact would start up that evening 
 and convict him, and ruin alike his new career 
 and his old one. For they would arrest him, try 
 him, perhaps convict him. And if they could 
 not prove him guilty of the burglary, they might 
 do what just then, in the view of Bella Maxfield's 
 home, seemed to him immeasurably worse, they 
 might treat him as a common rogue and vaga- 
 bond, and so make an end to the late dreams. 
 
 Well, he could but wait and see what was to 
 happen. 
 
 " If," murmured the unhappy Eeuben, " if 
 only one of the persons who saw us come to- 
 gether into the valley should recognise me to- 
 night, my fate is sealed.*^ 
 
 M 2
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 THE INQUEST. 
 
 As Eeuben, accompanied by Mrs. Maxfield and 
 Bella, made way through the village towards the 
 little alehouse where the inquest was to be held, 
 he could not but forget for a moment his own 
 individual thoughts and feelings in noticing the 
 commotion visible among the ^Deaceful inhabitants. 
 Every few yards they came upon a group of people 
 collected together at some house door, all eagerly 
 engaged in discussing the late fearful event, and 
 aU revealing, by their low tones of speech and the 
 awe that appeared on their faces, the depth of 
 their wonder that such an event should have 
 happened in their quiet village. 
 
 " Not for more'n half a century," said an aged 
 and cracked voice, " has there been such a thing 
 in this neighbourhood. No ; not since the jewel- 
 pedlar was murdered and put into the limekiln up 
 there upon the hillside." The listening group 
 seemed to feel a deeper horror come over them at
 
 THE INQUEST. 165 
 
 that reminiscence of their local history, and there 
 was a great hush upon them as their faces 
 turned towards the limekiln ruin. Just then the 
 Maxfields and Eeuhen passed, and all eyes were 
 upon them, not, however, rudely nor painfully, 
 but with a kind of sympathy that did not prevent 
 a good deal of inquisitiveness. The gossippers 
 did not speak to the party as they moved slowly 
 along, but the men put their hands to their hats 
 and caps, and the women curtsied, all except one 
 very young woman, who was so struck by Reu- 
 ben's appearance that she forgot her manners in 
 her admiration of so beautiful a hero — for such 
 he seemed to her unsophisticated eyes. But, as 
 the party passed on, Reuben's quick ears — watch- 
 ing for every sound that might warn him of danger 
 through discovery — overheard the whispered re- 
 marks : — 
 
 " That's him ! Isn't he young ? He's gotten 
 his arm in the sling, you see. And how white he 
 looks ! A'most as fair as a woman ! " 
 
 " Who would think he could have been so 
 brave — so howdacious — as to confront that black- 
 muzzled robber in the dead of the night and kill 
 him ? " 
 
 " Ay ! and what a mercy, wasn't it, that he 
 should have been in the house at the very time ? 
 Look you, it would ha' gone hard with them two
 
 166 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 women only, if tlie villain hadn't found anybody 
 else there." 
 
 " Ah ! Well, he's got his deserts at last ! He 
 didn't come into our neighbourhood for nothing !" 
 
 "No, no, indeed! " 
 
 *' Well, Jem, I shall go on after them, and learn 
 how things go at the ' quest.' " 
 
 " So will I." 
 
 " And I'll go along of you both." 
 
 And so there was a general movement towards 
 the alehouse of whatever portion of the popula- 
 tion of Northope had up to this time remained at 
 home. The bulk, however, had not waited for the 
 sight of the Maxfields to stir them. When the 
 little party got to the place the crowd outside 
 seemed almost like a fair. 
 
 Bella let down her veil, Mrs. Maxfield began 
 to tremble with increasing nervousness, and 
 Keuben's face grew dark as he thought to 
 himself, 
 
 *' What, if before all these people I have again 
 to pass by-and-by as the convicted companion of 
 a dead robber ? " 
 
 As he gazed for an instant round, moved with 
 a desire to be quite sure that there was no face 
 there he could recognise as having been seen by 
 him while he and Nobby Bob were together in 
 the valley, he could not but notice the stern looks
 
 THE INQUEST. 167 
 
 of the stalwart men that everywhere met him. 
 And he thought to himself, 
 
 " Why, if they knew all, they'd think no more 
 of stoning me to death than of stoning a rat ; 
 they wouldn^t wait for process of law." 
 
 But he smiled scornfully in defiance, as though 
 it was not them he feared — not their astonish- 
 ment, and disgust, and rage — but the silent 
 anguish he abeady in anticipation saw depicted 
 on the countenance of his young and beautiful 
 companion. 
 
 At the door of the alehouse they met the 
 Coroner, a kindly but fussy sort of man, who 
 seemed bent on making the most of the excite- 
 ment of the occasion instead of preserving the 
 even mind and balanced personal dignity so ne- 
 cessarj" as well as so becoming to the judge, how- 
 ever humble his judicial position. 
 
 " This way ! this way I ladies, if you please ; 
 and you, young Sir — the hero, as I suppose I 
 must call you, of this domestic tragedy." 
 
 " Oh ! Mr. Johnstone, is it not a dreadful busi- 
 ness ? " said Mrs. Maxfield, as she followed the 
 Coroner round the outside of the house towards 
 a little door that led into a back yard, beckoning, 
 at the same time, to Eeuben and Bella to accom- 
 pany her. 
 
 " Very — very — YE BY dreadful ! And now,
 
 168 ONE AGAINST THE WOELD. 
 
 ladies, let me warn you — I am going to take you 
 to see once more a shocking spectacle/' 
 
 " Oh, not that wretch ! '^ exclaimed Mrs. Max- 
 field ; then adding, " Not that unhappy man ! " 
 
 " Yes ! only for a minute, that you may all 
 identify him ; and so have that part of the busi- 
 ness over." 
 
 " Courage, Bella ! courage ! '^ whispered Mrs. 
 Maxfield. And although Bella's face blanched 
 to a whiteness that was truly appalling to Reu- 
 ben, whose eyes were fixed upon her, she tried to 
 smile faintly as she saw Reuben's look of agitated 
 inquiry, and said (to him rather than to her 
 mother), 
 
 " Come, then ! " 
 
 And so they went into the little backyard, and 
 from that into a kind of outhouse used as a 
 lumber-place, which had no door, but was open 
 to the yard ; and there, lying on some straw, was 
 all that remained of Reuben's early prompter to 
 guilt — his teacher in all the arts of felony — his 
 hard and exacting taskmaster — then his "pal" 
 and now at last the victim to whom he had been 
 compelled to play the part of executioner. 
 
 There he lay, and for once in his career Nobby 
 Bob's face had ceased to be repulsive. It seemed 
 as though that last thought of his before dying, 
 about his little boy — the " chick," as he had called
 
 THE INQUEST. 169 
 
 him — and the confidence he felt in Reuben's pro- 
 mise to see that he had his " rights "—such rights 
 as that miserable father was able, in his last hours 
 of agony, to bequeath to him — it seemed as 
 though that thought and that confidence had 
 expelled for a brief time all the long and ever- 
 accumulating series of recollections and influences 
 of a life of villany ; and then, before they could 
 return, he was dead, with the natural feeling of a 
 father at the final separation from his child 
 painted irremovably on his face. 
 
 The ladies were too much excited to spend any 
 time in unnecessary deliberation ; they simply 
 looked and waited for the brief queries of the 
 Coroner : — 
 
 " Is this the man who robbed you on your way 
 from the Traveller's Joy to Xorthope ? '' 
 
 " Yes, I think so," they each said. 
 
 " And you are quite sure it is the man who was 
 removed from your house this morning ? '* 
 
 " Quite, quite. That is beyond question," said 
 Mrs. Maxfield. 
 
 *' Thank you, that will do." And the two 
 ladies stepped out, glad to get once more away 
 from the polluted atmosphere of death. 
 
 *' Now, Mr. , what's your name ? " said the 
 
 Coroner to Eeuben, who had stayed behind. 
 
 " Polwarth."
 
 170 ONE AGAINST THE WOULD. 
 
 "Polwarth? Eeuben Polwartb ? How odd! 
 Why, that's the name of the Squire's new guest 
 — his nephew ; he is called Lieutenant Polwarth. 
 No relation, I suppose ? " 
 
 *' Certainly not ; at least none that I know of," 
 said Eeuben, smiling, and glad to have his 
 thoughts turned from the dark subject in hand. 
 " He^s a gentleman, of course ; I am only a piano 
 tuner." 
 
 " Oh ! '' said the Coroner, with a sudden change 
 in his manner, as though he felt he had been a 
 little imposed on by Reuben's gentlemanly dress 
 and easy manner. " Well, now, Mr. Polwarth, 
 do you identify this man as the one who broke 
 into Mrs. Maxfield's last night ? " 
 
 "I do." 
 
 " Very well. Now, then, we'll go indoors and 
 begin." 
 
 They were met, as they crossed the little yard, 
 by a good-looking mechanic, who was hot and 
 breathless, and ran up against the Coroner in his 
 hurry so rudely as almost to overset him. 
 
 " Who are you ? " demanded the Coroner. 
 
 '•' The man who found the property." 
 
 " Oh, indeed ! And you want ? " 
 
 " To see if I know the man who has been 
 killed." He stepped into the little outhouse and 
 at once called out,
 
 THE INQUEST. 171 
 
 " Ay, that's him. That's Truffles, sure 
 enough ; just as I saw him in the early morning 
 digging the very hole fi'om which I aft^rwai'd 
 took all the property." 
 
 " Come along," said the Coroner, swelling with 
 a sense of the value of the evidence that was 
 gathering about him, and needing only his mas- 
 terly hand to be made to fall into order, and to 
 tell the whole history almost without seeming to 
 tell it. But he was again interrupted by some 
 person who looked as though he were a mere 
 village gossip, but whose conversation left an 
 uneasy sense on Reuben's mind and behaviour, 
 for the Coroner, after receiving a whispered re- 
 mark, looked round suddenly, and as if with new 
 interest, on Reuben, and then called out, 
 
 "Don't wait, I'll be with you in the court 
 directly." 
 
 And Reuben went on into the *'' court," think- 
 ing he was very fooUsh to take serious notice of 
 such sKght incidents, but only arriving at the 
 conclusion that all his efforts to treat them with 
 contempt seemed to biing them out into stronger 
 relief. 
 
 He was overtaken at the door by the Coroner, 
 who, however, showed neither by look nor word 
 that anything particular had occurred, and Reu- 
 ben then dismissed the matter from his thoughts.
 
 172 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 They went into the " court '' together, the court 
 being a room in the alehouse — a very small room, 
 though the largest the house contained— and the 
 same from which Nobby Bob had looked out 
 from behind the blind upon Eeuben and his new 
 friend as they were returning from church the 
 day before. 
 
 Eeuben could not, even under such serious 
 circumstances, help a smile at the arrangements. 
 There was the "jury,^' huddled up together as 
 close as their chairs could be packed, at one end; 
 then, in the centre, there was an arm-chair and a 
 small table with writing materials ; then there 
 was a space left for witnesses and audience large 
 enough together to accommodate perhaps a 
 dozen persons, but full half of which was pre- 
 occupied by the majestic presence of Mr. Thomas 
 Jessop, sitting there on his own domestic throne, 
 and almost seeming, to the Coroner's rapid and 
 sensitive eye, disrespectfully dominating over th^ 
 whole assembly. But he was friendly to the 
 giant landlord, so he nodded to him in passing to 
 his own seat in the centre. The window of the 
 room was open, and a perfect sea of heads ap- 
 peared outside. The jury were all busily drink- 
 ing and smoking when the Coroner entered, but 
 he put a stop to these indulgences. 
 
 *• Now, gentlemen, you know business is
 
 THE INQUEST. 173 
 
 business, and not either pipes or ale. As much 
 as you like of that sort of thing after we've 
 done." 
 
 "Hear, hear ! " said one of the jury, who not 
 being able to smoke, was getting very uncom- 
 fortable at his personal prospects for the next 
 hour or two. So the pipes were laid by, the 
 glasses were rapidly emptied and dismissed, the 
 Coroner sat down and looked pompous in his 
 arm-chair, and the sexton, who officiated at the 
 door, shouted out, 
 
 " Stand back, can't you ? " to the dense crowd 
 that lined the passage ; while outside there rose a 
 murmur of — 
 
 " They're going to begin ! " and then they did 
 begin. 
 
 We shall not attempt to follow the forms of the 
 inquest ; for at Northope they didn't much 
 trouble about forms, and were quite content if 
 only they could get at what they supposed to be 
 the substance. Neither shall we dwell on the 
 evidence, the facts of which are akeady known 
 to the reader, except where we see special reason 
 for doing so. We may remark, then, that the 
 story was completely brought out, and in tolerably 
 due sequence ; namely, the appearance of Xobby 
 Bob at the Traveller's Joy — his sudden disap- 
 pearance a little before the departui'e of the
 
 174 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 ladies — his stopping them on the hill — then, on 
 the same night, the alarm at the Hall — the dis- 
 covery that burglars had broken in — that one of 
 the servants had run away, who was supposed to 
 be in connivance with the robber — then the dis- 
 covery of the concealed treasure by the tramping 
 shoemaker — the identification of the dead man 
 with this burglary by the digging of the hole 
 where the plunder was found — then his first 
 apx^earance during the shades of evening on 
 Saturday at the present alehouse, and his staying 
 there, where he had been assuming the part of a 
 wandering joiner seeking work — his breaking 
 into Mrs. Maxfield^s the same night — the meeting 
 between the two men — the deadly conflict — and 
 the fatal shot. All this the Coroner managed to 
 get out very neatly, and with as little of repetition 
 and circumlocution as the case permitted. 
 
 Of course he had his interruptions and difficul- 
 ties : the course of coroners' justice does not run 
 very smooth in small country places. When, for 
 instance, the Squire's horse was heard outside, 
 there was a decided stop for all other evidence 
 till he had come in and condescendingly given his 
 evidence, and bowed graciously when he had done, 
 in answer to the Coroner^s, 
 
 " Very much obliged to you. Sir. We will not 
 detain you any longer ; " and so he rode off.
 
 THE rS-QUEST. 175 
 
 Generally tlie Coroner managed to impose a 
 kind of ceremony upon the witnesses while giving 
 their evidence ; but that was out of the question 
 with Mr. Jessop, whom no one ventured to ask to 
 get up and stand near the Coroner while speak- 
 ing; so, after a dubious look at his person, he 
 was permitted to say what he had to say from his 
 seat where he was, and then he spoke in so per- 
 fectly easy and conversational a manner as to 
 irritate the Coroner by his seeming insensibility 
 to the dignity of office. 
 
 However, on the whole, they got on very weU, 
 notwithstanding these and similar little rubs ; and 
 they were not much disturbed even by the com- 
 ments outside, which now and then raised a laugh 
 over the faces of the jury, and called forth a 
 threat that the window should be closed and the 
 blind let down if there was not silence. 
 
 All this while not a single dangerous counte- 
 nance had Reuben perceived in the room or out- 
 side, nor did a single fact start up to alarm him ; 
 for the chief witness who might have seriously 
 compromised him — the big landlord — spoke so 
 carefully and well of what passed at his house 
 that the impression was left on every one's mind 
 that the meeting between the two men, though 
 remarkable, considering the results, was perfectly 
 accidental — every one's mind, at least, except the
 
 176 ONE AGAINST THE TVOELD. 
 
 Coroner's, who, to Reuben's alarm, began to do 
 something very like cross-examine him when he 
 had finished taking all the other evidence. 
 
 " Reuben Polwarth you said, I think, was your 
 name ? " 
 
 *'Yes." 
 
 " Always known by that name ? " 
 
 " Good God!" thought Reuben, "what does he 
 mean by that? Has he or any one overheard 
 Nobby Bob call me Gent Rube ? " But his reply 
 was instantaneous, 
 
 " I don^t understand your question." 
 
 The big landlord looked approvingly on the 
 youth's open face and generous glow of indigna- 
 tion; but what he would have felt if he could 
 have known the truth, and the promptness of the 
 young hero at lying, we can only venture to 
 dream of. 
 
 The Coroner did not repeat his question, and 
 srreat was Reuben's relief thereat. He then 
 thought that it must have been only a fit of ill- 
 temper or personal dislike that had prompted the 
 inquiry, not actual information received, 
 
 " Are you a friend of this lady ? " asked the 
 Coroner, looking at Mrs. Maxfield, who now sat 
 with Bella close to the judicial side. " I mean, 
 were you acquainted before these events oc- 
 curred ? "
 
 THE INQUEST. 177 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Do you know any one in these parts who can 
 speak to your antecedents ? " 
 
 "No. I left London only a few days ago, 
 being desirous of seeing a little of the country, 
 and paying my way by the exercise of my voca- 
 tion — that of a tuner of pianofortes." 
 
 "And I understand you to say that till the 
 meeting — the casual meeting — at the " Traveller s 
 Joy/' you and the man whom you subsequently 
 killed in defence of this lady's house never met ? " 
 
 Just for one moment Reuben again hesitated 
 in the belief and the terrible fear that the Coroner 
 knew something that would contradict his (Reu- 
 ben's) evidence, and perhaps altogether discredit 
 it ; but he felt he had no alternative but to reply, 
 
 "Never!" 
 
 There was a general hum of assent, almost of 
 applause, which seemed to annoy the Coroner, 
 as if intended to reprove his unreasonable 
 suspicion. Suddenly he said, in a loud and 
 sonorous voice, 
 
 " Call Tommy Larke, the shepherd." 
 
 " The shepherd ! " thought Reuben, and in an 
 instant he remembered the shepherd lad he had 
 seen on the hillside who was reading when he 
 and Nobby Bob were advancing together through 
 the solitude of the valley towards the spot where
 
 178 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 they had agreed to separate, in order to meet 
 again as strangers at the " Traveller's Joy." 
 
 Bella looked at Eeuben, saw the sudden pallor 
 upon his face, but saw also the equally sudden 
 smile which drove it off as he met her eyes, and 
 she wondered what it was that had frightened 
 her so. 
 
 Tommy Larke came in — a dull, sheepish- 
 looking youth, in a smock-frock, and with his 
 crook in his hand, and stared at the Coroner as 
 if seeing nothing but him in the whole place. 
 
 Tommy having been sworn and made to kiss 
 the book, which he almost forgot to do in the 
 intentness of his gaze upon the Coroner's face, 
 was told, after some preliminary questions, to 
 look round the court. He did so, and his eyes at 
 once fixed on Eeuben. 
 
 " Have you seen that young man before ? " 
 
 "Y— yees!" 
 
 "When?" 
 
 " On Friday morning last." 
 
 " On the side of our great field — the Ten 
 Acre." 
 
 '' Was there anybody with him ? " 
 *' Y — ees ; another gentleman." 
 *' How dressed ? " 
 "In black clothes."
 
 THE INQUEST. 17 9 
 
 " Have you seen the body of the man who is 
 now lying dead in the yard ? " 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Go, then, and take a careful look at him. 
 Martin," said the Coroner to the sexton ; " go 
 with him. Let nobody speak to him." 
 
 The two went out, and there was an almost 
 awful silence in the court as the people waited 
 for the return.. Reuben did not dare again to 
 look at BeUa. He could not venture another 
 lying sndle of assurance — not now, when he 
 might within a few minutes be convicted of par- 
 ticipation in the robbery of the Squire. 
 
 "^Tien the sexton returned with the shepherd 
 the Coroner said to the latter, 
 
 "WeU, Tommy Larke, is that the gentleman 
 you saw with this gentleman ? " 
 
 "X— o, Sir." 
 
 " Xo ! " said the startled Coroner, who had 
 evidently been told by some over-hasty busybody 
 that the shepherd could identify the young man 
 as a companion robber to the old one. " No ! " 
 he repeated, wonderingly, while Reuben's thoughts 
 were flying back to the villager who had spoken 
 to the Coroner just when they were coming into 
 " court." 
 
 " That gentleman had black cloHies ; this un 
 
 hasn't," responded Thomas Larke, with a kind of 
 
 s 2
 
 180 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 doggedness of tone that argued well for his 
 adherence to his first notions. 
 
 " Oh, that's a trifle. Clothes may be changed. 
 His clothes have been changed. We know that 
 he did wear black." 
 
 " Besides," said the youth, in the same slow 
 but determined tone, as if, while he felt in- 
 stinctively the necessity for concentrating all his 
 mind to a point, he also felt able to go through 
 with his purpose when he did so concentrate it, 
 " that gentleman hadn't black hair/' 
 
 " Neither had this one. Mr. Jessop has told 
 us how he must have changed its colour by some 
 dye." 
 
 " Eh ? '* said the shepherd, with open mouth 
 and wondering stare. 
 
 ** Don't you understand that we already have 
 it in evidence that this man, who now lies dead 
 out in the yard, is known to have worn black 
 clothes, and to have had, on Friday last, light- 
 coloured hair, 'just like the man you saw ? " 
 
 " Pardon me, Mr. Coroner," interrupted Reu- 
 ben, *' I did not at first understand the meaning 
 of your question — the assumption that I could 
 possibly be connected with any burglary being so 
 gross — but I beg you to observe that this youth, 
 who speaks so honestly and with such evident 
 good faith, does not recognise in the dead robber
 
 THE INQUEST. 181 
 
 the gentleman he ssljs he saw with me crossing 
 the valley." 
 
 The Coroner was evidently confused. At last 
 he said, 
 
 *' Do speak up, Tommy Larke, and like a man. 
 Do you think the dead man is the gentleman you 
 saw with this young man ? " 
 
 "N — o!" said Tommy; but still a little he- 
 sitatingly. 
 
 Eeuben felt that at the best he was about to be 
 left with a heavy suspicion hanging over him ; so, 
 as a kind of desperate throw of the dice, he 
 trusted all to one chance. If the shepherd had 
 noticed one peculiarity of Nobby Bob he could 
 scarcely have forgotten it, or omitted to mention 
 it. He trusted all now to that small hope : — 
 
 *' Permit me," interposed Reuben again, " to 
 ask this witness, Mr. Coroner, if he noticed any- 
 thing remarkable in the gentleman's person that 
 he saw with me. ? " 
 
 " Speak, Tommy Larke ; " and the Coroner 
 repeated the question. 
 
 "No, nought but his good black clothes, which 
 made me wish I had a Sunday suit like 'em." 
 
 " You are sure you noticed nothing else ? " 
 repeated the Coroner, guessing Reuben's thought 
 as he remembered the previous evidence about 
 the burdar.
 
 182 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 " No, nought else, except I thought the hair on 
 his face were getting as white and bald-hke as 
 our old sow's back at home/' 
 
 This remark greatly tickled the jury; and, 
 being caught up by a listener at the window, was 
 repeated outside, and raised a great roar, which 
 the Coroner allowed to subside before going on 
 with the business. 
 
 " Then undoubtedly there was a something 
 remarkable," said Keuben, boldly, "for it has 
 been again and again testified to by all the wit- 
 nesses. When I first saw this man at the ' Tra- 
 veller's Joy,' it was that that struck me, as it did 
 Mr. Jessop, and Miss Maxfield, and the man who 
 discovered the property.'' 
 
 ** You mean " began the Coroner. 
 
 " The shortness of the robber's arms." 
 
 " Can you yourself throw any light upon the 
 incident of this shepherd's seeing you in com- 
 pany?" 
 
 " I think I can," said Reuben. " I did not at 
 first remember, for the incident was so very 
 slight ; but as I came into the valley I did, some- 
 where on the slope of a hill, pass a gentlemanly 
 man, of whom I asked the way to the * Traveller's 
 Joy; ' but we did not walk ten yards together, 
 nor speak for more than a single instant." 
 
 " Tommy Larke," said the Coroner, " did the
 
 THE INQUEST. 183 
 
 two gentlemen you saw separate after a word or 
 two, as you have just now heard given in evi- 
 dence." 
 
 " Yes ; that they did. For I wondered why, if 
 they had come together, they didn't go on 
 together." 
 
 Reuben saw his chance, and now followed up 
 his former hit by a new one. With a kind of 
 simple ingenuousness of truth- speaking, he 
 added, " But, to tell you the whole truth, I do not 
 think that the gentleman I met carried any bag 
 such as the robber undoubtedly did when he came 
 into the ' Traveller's Joy* ; therefore," continued 
 he with a smile, as he looked round the room, 
 " if the witness swears the gentleman he saw had 
 such a bag, and that he was with me " 
 
 " Had the gentleman in black a bag. Tommy?" 
 
 " X — o; I didn't see any bag." 
 
 No. Eeuben could have told the court that, 
 for he had remembered just in time to venture 
 this bold piece of finesse, that the bag and the 
 tools had been kept concealed about Nobby Bob's 
 person till he should have got into the high road, 
 near the " Traveller's Joy," where he was to 
 appear as a commercial traveller. 
 
 That last bit of candour on Reuben's part 
 finished the business. There was a general sense 
 of relief in the court, and of sympathy with the
 
 184 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 young fellow's feelings, who, after fighting so 
 bravely for two unprotected women, and bearing 
 at this moment the marks of suffering in their 
 behalf, both in his pale face and slung arm, was 
 himself assailed with the vile and absurd suspi- 
 cion of being an accomplice with the very robber 
 he had so boldlj^ challenged and killed ! 
 
 The Coroner was himself now quite convinced, 
 and began to make amends : — 
 
 " Very well. I'm glad this doubt, which I 
 need not say was put into my way — which I did 
 not seek — is cleared up. I think, gentlemen, we 
 can now deliberate on our verdict. Let the 
 * court ' be cleared." 
 
 Of course, the verdict substantially was that 
 Nobby Bob had fallen a victim to his own crimi- 
 nal practices ; and the com't presently broke up 
 — meaning by that, they began to smoke and 
 drink as hard as they could, being helped vigor- 
 ously in both operations by the Coroner, who 
 threw off his dignity and began to unbend in a 
 regular fire of jokes, and by the giant landlord, 
 who was delighted to find once more the suspi- 
 cion that had been brought back by the shepherd's 
 statements removed, and his young guest left to 
 enjoy the honours due to his gallantry.
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 A robber's last resting-place. 
 
 When Mrs. Maxfielcl and Bella and Reuben 
 had shaken hands with Mr. Thomas Jessop, and 
 wished him, mockingly, a pleasant journey back 
 in his airy vehicle; and when they had got a 
 little clear of the houses of the village, and were 
 approaching home, Mrs. Maxfield fell a little 
 behind Bella and motioned to Reuben that she 
 wanted to speak to him apart. He joined her, 
 and she said, 
 
 "What will they do with that poor unhappy 
 man's body ? " 
 
 " Do ? I never thought of that ! I'm sure I 
 can't tell. Perhaps bury it at the dead of night, 
 as I have heard they do with suicides." 
 
 " Oh ! that would be shocking. I shouldn't 
 like that. Surely he can have Christian 
 burial?" 
 
 " As far as he's concerned, I don't think he'll 
 mind it much," said Reuben, but was stopped
 
 186 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 by the evident displeasure of Mrs. Maxfields 
 tone. 
 
 " I should think you would be glad for your 
 own sake to know that all has been done that can 
 be done for him. It's a dreadful thing to have 
 the blood of a fellow- creature on one's hands." 
 
 Eeuben was almost prompted to ask whether 
 she would have preferred that the " fellow-crea- 
 ture '' should have had his (Reuben's) or her (Mrs. 
 Maxfield's) blood upon his hands, since she was 
 so dissatisfied with the result ; but he had already 
 learned that he was often, when thinking thus, 
 only displa3^ing his ignorance of Christian -Hke 
 dealings, his inexperience of honest ways ; so he 
 was silent. 
 
 " Now, I have been thinking that if the sexton 
 were spoken to he might, perhaps, consult the 
 minister, to see if he would not read the burial 
 service over the unhappy man. I will willingly 
 pay the proper fees. And if you, Mr. Polwarth, 
 would but see to the matter for me " 
 
 Reuben hesitated — in real dislike, almost fear, 
 of the task suggested. He had never realised 
 the idea of death till now. It had shocked and 
 sobered him, this death of Nobby Bob, although 
 with a kind of bravado he tried to throw off the 
 influence it exerted upon him. But here were 
 two helpless women. Could he propose that
 
 187 
 
 they, or one of them, should go running about 
 the village to see to this matter ? No ; he must 
 do it. So he said, " Very well ; I will return and 
 speak to the sexton." 
 
 Reuben found him amongst the crowd in the 
 " court " room of the little alehouse, almost un- 
 discoverable in the clouds of smoke that filled the 
 place. He came forth readily enough at Reuben's 
 request, but seemed uncommonly discontented at 
 the nature of Reuben's business when that was 
 explained to him outside. However, as he was a 
 tenant at will for a bit of land to Mrs. Maxfield, 
 he did not care to offend that lady ; so he and 
 Reuben went off to find the Curate, who they 
 learned had gone a few miles away to spend the 
 night. 
 
 What now was to be done ? 
 
 After some cogitation the sexton said there was 
 a little cemetery attached to a Wesleyan chapel, 
 and he thought there was an aged farmer who 
 often officiated in an irregular sort of way as a 
 preacher on the hillside, who might be persuaded 
 to do what was required. And that, anyhow, the 
 man might be buried there, and his grave got 
 ready. But here a serious question arose in the 
 sexton^s mind : — 
 
 " Was the deceased a member of the Church, 
 or would he have objected to belong in death to
 
 188 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 a Dissenting congregation ?^^ Eeuben thought 
 that the sexton must be jesting; but, on the con- 
 trary, the latter was evidently quite in earnest in 
 desiring to be satisfied as to the rights of con- 
 science being respected even in this extreme 
 case. However, when Reuben said that, from 
 the little conversation he had had with the 
 deceased, he was satisfied that the robber would 
 have been quite willing to let any religious body 
 that pleased claim him after he was dead, the 
 sexton went away to prepare the gi'ave, which 
 it was agreed should be done while Reuben 
 went back to fetch the irregular minister. 
 
 Two or three hours later Reuben stood bare- 
 headed with the sexton and the aged farmer- 
 minister on the edge of a grave in the little 
 cemetery that displayed its sloping rows of 
 tombstones upon the hillside. The tall poplars 
 were waving to and fro and making melan- 
 choly music ; the night was dark and cold, 
 though at one side of the sky there was 
 a kind of flush of light, strange and wild- 
 looking, that constantly attracted Reuben's 
 eyes. A lantern, set down on the very edge of 
 the planks, threw its dim rays into the darksome 
 pit where lay the robber in his last earthly bed. 
 The coffin was of the very rudest construction — 
 had no ornament, not even a nail, that could be
 
 A robber's last RESTrS'G-PLACE. 189 
 
 seen — and was, of course, without inscription or 
 name. 
 
 As the minister read a chapter out of the 
 Gospel of St. John, and put forth a fervent 
 prayer that dealt with the violent and sudden 
 death of a criminal thus arrested in his career, 
 Reuhen felt more moved than he had ever felt in 
 his life before. His hatred and disgust of his 
 old " pal " seemed to die out ; numerous little 
 acts of passing kindness which had here and there 
 gleamed through the robber's otherwise unlovely 
 life, were called up ; then came thoughts of the 
 kind of career that Nobby Bob had passed 
 through — probably one of crime, or preparation 
 for crime, from his very earliest years ; then the 
 scene of the wild, dimly-lighted moor, the night 
 so dark, the fear that his own future might even 
 yet be more nearly like his late companion's than 
 he had tried to believe ; all these things, added 
 to the agitation of the day and the weakening 
 effect of his wound, made him feel no longer 
 master of himself, and, before he knew what he 
 was doing, he was dropping tears into the grave 
 of Nobby Bob. 
 
 And when the brief, but sensible and pertinent, 
 service was over that the kind and earnest- 
 minded "W'esleyan performed, and Reuben had 
 shaken hands with him, and watched him go
 
 190 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 awaj^ lie himself still waited as if to see the 
 sexton fill in a few spadesful of earth. But soon 
 he, too, took his departure, saying he could finish 
 in the morning, and Keuben was left alone. 
 
 Alone ! He sat down upon the dirt-covered 
 planks that formed the rude platform around the 
 mouth of the grave, and began to call up, year by 
 year, month by month, and deed by deed, the 
 whole of his past life since it had fallen under the 
 dead robber's influence. 
 
 Was that his life ? he seemed now to ask him- 
 self, with a shudder. Was it possible that he 
 had lived as this man now buried here had lived, 
 by ceaseless acts of fraud and violence ? And 
 was it to such an ending that he had been blindly 
 marching, with all his senseless gaiety of soul, 
 until his late determination to change ? 
 
 He could not fathom what was going on within 
 him : but this he was conscious of : change — 
 daily — hourly — almost momentarily. Was it 
 through the influence of that fair young maiden, 
 whose belief in his innocence almost seemed to 
 re-create him into the very state of innocence that 
 she believed ? Or was it that, his eyes having 
 been once opened by her ministrations to a 
 dawning sense of the possible beauty of honesty 
 and virtue, he was able by his own inherent 
 vigour to find food everywhere for the new life ?
 
 A robber's last resting-place. 191 
 
 Certainly he had experienced new sympathies 
 with all sorts of things and men during these 
 three days — with men and things that he would 
 have mocked at before. The giant landlord, 
 whose heart had warmed towards him — Bella — 
 her mother — they seemed to be now all making 
 Eeuben's heart yearn in return to do something, 
 or be something, different from what he was, if 
 it were only that he might throw off the constantly 
 increasing burden of hypocrisy. 
 
 How Eeuben had lied, and with what success, 
 before the Coroner, we have shown. Time was 
 when Eeuben would have made the thieves' 
 quarter ring again with the mirth produced by 
 his narrative of the proceedings — by his vividly 
 dramatic imitations of the Coroner's voice and 
 manner; but all this was dead now. And, in- 
 explicable as it seemed to Eeuben, he felt growing 
 over him an uneasy consciousness that lying, even 
 to get out of danger, was not the manhest of aU 
 accomplishments, not one that he would hke to 
 brag of before Bella Maxfield. 
 
 Yes, the work of discipline was beginning, 
 though slowly and imperfectly. Meantime, 
 Eeuben had warded off for the moment all 
 danger, and stood master of the position. He 
 had rendered a priceless service to his new 
 friends ; he was an inmate of their house ; would
 
 192 ONE AGAINST THE \\'ORLD. 
 
 get to know their friends ; must have chances of 
 earning a creditable livelihood ; and his old enemy, 
 Nobby Bob, was lying here, — no longer able to 
 threaten, no longer able to interfere with Reuben's 
 meditated career. 
 
 Why, then, is he so despondent ? He cannot 
 tell. He half wishes at this very moment, as he 
 hears the lumps of earth that he has moved with 
 his foot drop with heavy thuds on the coJ0&n, 
 that he, too, lay there, and that the frightful 
 mistake or criminality of his past life may thus 
 be prevented from creating what he fears a long- 
 drawn future of misery and humiliation. 
 
 Yes, that is Reuben's fear. Even now, when 
 he thinks of the future, does he see danger and 
 obstacles, none of which he can meet as brave 
 men meet ordinary difficulties, because his dif- 
 ficulties are in their nature base. He begins to 
 see that — to feel that. 
 
 At times a sort of wild thought steals over 
 him that he will fly from England for many years, 
 then come back again when his name and deeds 
 must be swept out of all memories, and then 
 again come into this happy valley, and see if he 
 cannot win as a bride this sweet maiden whose 
 image fills his soul. But then he knows well 
 that if he were to lose just now the incitement to 
 virtue that he finds in her face, voice, habits,
 
 A robber's last resting-place. 193 
 
 home, and neighbourhood, he would relapse, be- 
 cause the magical power is not in him but in her, 
 and comes to him only from her. 
 
 But, as he is, will he not be a villain — ay, as 
 great a villain as the robber who now lies dead 
 in the grave here — if he wins this young girl^s 
 love only to let her find out by-and-by that she 
 has loved one whose very touch is pollution? 
 
 She must find that out ! He knows not how. 
 He will exert every faculty he has to prevent her 
 finding it out ; but he cannot resist the depressing 
 feeling coming over him whenever he ventures to 
 think of the future, that she will be sure to dis- 
 cover his past. 
 
 Why, he must tell her himself — if no one else 
 will ! Thus he is ready to cry out in despair. 
 Already, rogue and liar as he is constrained to 
 think himself when he confronts the actual facts 
 of the case, he shrinks from the baseness and the 
 folly of seeking to win her with that dread story 
 unknown. 
 
 And he begins again to recall all the sad cir- 
 cumstances of his early life, and once more the 
 tears are dropping into the robber's grave. 
 Reuben cannot help some self-pity. He cannot 
 help saying to himself, " If they knew all, would 
 they not forgive, forget, and accept me in spite of 
 all ?" He tries to reahse the position of sitting 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 194 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 in that parlour, facing them, while he recounts 
 the incidents of the dreadful story. He goes on 
 for a while successfully ; but at last he shrinks, 
 and then starts fiercely up — 
 
 "No, no; silence is my only hope. They 
 would drive me from their door as they would 
 drive away some noxious beast that had suddenly 
 appeared in the village, if they knew the truth/' 
 
 He then stood for a while silent on the edge of 
 the grave, and at last said, " Well ! good-bye, old 
 comrade ! I wished you good-bye before, but not, 
 I think, in the right spirit. I begin to under- 
 stand myself too well to be very free of abuse for 
 you. Farewell ! If there be a better place, and 
 it be possible for you and I to get there, I'll wish 
 you as much luck as myself. I can't pray for 
 you, for I can't pray for myself. But I wish, old 
 pal, you could have heard and understood as I 
 did the talk of this man to-night over your grave. 
 It might have done you good, as it has done me 
 good, by making you uncommonly uncomfort- 
 able. This is the second time in two da3^s that 
 I find myself inclining to listen to talk that I 
 always thought only invented by knaves for the 
 better guidance of fools. Good-night ! good» 
 night ! I haven't forgot my promise to you about 
 your boy. Lie quiet, then, old fellow ; you are 
 in your last bed. The * chick ' shall be seen to."
 
 A ROBBERS LAST RESTING-PLACE. 195 
 
 Reuben then stole homewards; but managed 
 to get to bed without seeing either of the ladies, 
 though they, wondering at his behaviour, sat up 
 a good while listening to his perturbed footfalls 
 over their heads. 
 
 2
 
 CHAPTEB XX. 
 
 Reuben's promise to nobby bob. 
 
 It was easy enough for Reuben to promise his 
 dying comrade that he would see to the interests 
 of his child, and very natural that he should do 
 so under such appalling circumstances. But it 
 was by no means easy to redeem the promise, 
 as Reuben's own instinct told him almost im- 
 mediately after he had made it. 
 
 It was not pleasant — it was hardly even 
 safe for him to leave Northope and his 
 new friends for three or four days (and the 
 journey and the business in London could 
 scarcely be accomplished in shorter time) ; for 
 the suspicions that he had managed to allay by 
 his readiness and skill might revive again dan- 
 gerously during his absence. 
 
 But putting that fear aside, another arose 
 which was even more perplexing. Could he be 
 quite sure that if he once got back to his 
 old haunts and associates he would not be
 
 REUBEN S PnO^nSE TO NOBBY BOB. 197 
 
 tempted to forget liis late resolves and plunge 
 once more into crime and licentiousness ? Might 
 he not, when he once got fairly away from this 
 place, find that he had heen the victim of a wild 
 though fascinating dream, and that he would then 
 awake and laugh to himself for his prolonged 
 delusion ? 
 
 No ; Reuben was quite clear as to that. He 
 could settle that question very briefly. He felt, 
 on the contrary, that it was his past life that had 
 been the delusion, and that it was the present 
 one that was awakening him to true conscious- 
 ness. But then he could not deny that his 
 fortitude seemed often failing when he spanned 
 with hopeless eyes and a depressed soul the long, 
 dry, dusty, and fatiguing road of duty that he 
 saw before him. The love of Bella Maxfield was 
 indeed a delicious bit of refreshment for him; 
 but Reuben had too much sense not to see that 
 it would be equally foolish and difficult to try to 
 win her as his wife before he was able to show he 
 could support her in comfort and honesty. He 
 had, however, on the whole, no doubt that he 
 could persevere through a great deal of difficulty 
 if only she cheered him on ; and he felt quite 
 certain that no temptation would keep him in 
 London one hour longer than he was compelled 
 to stay.
 
 198 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 "What, then, was the nature of the obstacles 
 that appalled him in his desire to fulfil his 
 promise to Nobby Bob ? It was simply the 
 danger — danger to life, danger to his future 
 career. He had not thought of these things 
 while he saw his late companion weltering in his 
 blood at his feet ; he had not had time to do so ; 
 but now they pressed upon him witli awful 
 force. The position was most serious. He had 
 to go back alone, and say, not only that his- 
 comrade was dead, but that he had died by his 
 (Reuben's) hand ! For, if he concealed the latter 
 fact, how could he be sure that they might not 
 have already heard of it through the newspapers, 
 or through those more secret and professional 
 channels which they often commanded? Were 
 he to be found out in a clear case of lying of this 
 kind, it would be concluded at once he had played 
 the traitor to his comrade, and made away with 
 him to conceal the fact. Reuben knew very well 
 that his own life would not then be worth the 
 value of the smallest coin that the Queen's 
 Mint had ever sent forth. The " honour-among- 
 thieves " doctrine, however hard of digestion to 
 honest folk, has an undoubted existence and 
 reality among those who have such vital need of 
 it. The " war '' against society would soon come 
 to an end if the rank and file who compose the
 
 199 
 
 army of felonry could not trust each other while 
 on the march. Mutual confidence within certain 
 limits that are pretty generally understood is, 
 therefore, the first of virtues, as any breach of 
 this law of mutual trust is esteemed the one un- 
 forgivable crime. 
 
 But he had promised, and he must perform. 
 Eeuben. approved of the law — he had faith in 
 the honour even of thieves : himself till lately a 
 thief, he knew that no one in the thieves' quarter 
 had ever dared to impeach his honour. He had 
 killed this man — in a good cause, no doubt ; but 
 still he had killed him. There was now an 
 infant's future depending upon the due fulfilment 
 of the engagement made. But it was useless 
 thinking any more about it ; he had better be oft' 
 at once and get it over, and feel himself safely 
 back again. And there was one thought that 
 quickened his resolve : — Supposing he delayed 
 this business, and he get on well in the village, 
 and he were accepted by Bella, would it not be 
 terrible then to have any kind of communication 
 with the world of thiefdom ? when she would 
 have a right to ask him where he was going and 
 what he was about to do ? Yes, there must be 
 no delay. He must get the ugly business over at 
 once. 
 
 Nobby Bob's friend, of whom he had spoken in
 
 200 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 his last moments — Billy Marks — was a kind of 
 thief trustee or treasurer — that is to say, a man 
 who, though originally himself a thief and a 
 pugilist, had, somehow, dropped out of both 
 vocations and become a publican, whose house 
 was visited only by the better sort of thieves ; 
 men who would submit to the rules of discipline 
 imposed by Billy Marks, or if they didn't, would, at 
 all events, bear submissively the knock-down blow 
 with which the ex-pugilist fortified all his argu- 
 ments in the last extremity. But he soon became 
 known among them for his good temper and his 
 unimpeachable honesty, and his popularity was 
 immense. His house became a kind of thieves* 
 savings bank ; and no stranger ever ventured to 
 doubt with impunity either the solvency or the 
 good faith of Billy Marks. Reuben had often 
 seen and spoken to him, though he had not en- 
 couraged much personal acquaintance, for the 
 very sufficient reason that Nobby Bob looked 
 upon Billy Marks as his particular friend. Reuben 
 had for a long time past done his best, in a quiet 
 sort of way, to sever all connection between him- 
 self and his tutor that did not strictly relate to 
 business, their tastes and views not being at all 
 in accord. And this very fact had indirectly 
 helped Reuben to keep off some of the worst 
 consequences of his life. It drove him away from
 
 the thieves^ quarter to the casino, the concert 
 room, the theatres, and the operas, and to the 
 society of men and women whose life, though for 
 the most part abandoned enough, did not prevent 
 them from exercising unconsciously some moral 
 influence over Reuben's notions of pecuniary 
 morality. 
 
 Reuben's means for the meditated journey were 
 not very large. However, he found he could 
 manage, by using the money from Bella's stolen 
 purse, to pay the railway fares each way between 
 London and the nearest station — some thirty 
 miles distant — and have a trifle over for inci- 
 dental expenses. And, as to other things, if he 
 fell short he had no doubt that, considering the 
 nature of his business, he might safely throw 
 himself upon Billy Marks's hospitality for a few 
 hours, including a nisht, seeing that if he had 
 rightly understood Xobby Bob in his last mo- 
 ments, the " Treasurer " had funds in hand 
 belonging to Nobby Bob's little boy. He was 
 not sorry thus to be able to dispose of Bella's 
 property, for its possession was a constant source 
 of disquiet to him, though he saw, with rather a 
 blank face at the prospect, that he would be left 
 penniless at his return, and therefore dependent 
 upon what he could earn in an honest way. 
 
 He took an early opportunity to mention to
 
 302 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 the ladies the nature of the promise he had given 
 to the dying hurglar ; and, although they both 
 seemed satisfied in a sense with his explanations, 
 there seemed also a kind of surprise and con- 
 straint, and which, to Reuben's great pain, seemed 
 to remain the longest time with Bella. But then 
 came the thought that perhaps she had fancied it 
 an excuse for his leaving them ; and that thought 
 led to another — that she must feel deeply about 
 him thus to display any kind of feeling ; and so, 
 on the whole, Eeuben managed to extract more 
 pleasure than pain out of Bella's behaviour. 
 
 " And when do you return ? " said Mrs. Max- 
 field. 
 
 " Within three days, I hope and trust." 
 
 " Excuse my asking the question, but this is 
 as much our business as yours : can I help you 
 with the expenses ? " 
 
 " Oh no, thank you ; I have quite enough/' 
 said Reuben, in a sort of flash of personal dignity, 
 and then adding to himself, a moment later, 
 " What an ass I was not to take some ! I might 
 have spent the purse-money this way and kept 
 what she gave me for my future needs ! " How- 
 ever, he had committed himself, and there was no 
 remedy. 
 
 As he went off one evening directly after 
 supper, so as to walk the thirty miles durinsf the
 
 Reuben's promise to nobby bob. 203 
 
 night, and reach the station in time for the six 
 o'clock parliamentary train, without incurring 
 the expense of a previous lodging at an inn, he 
 found the ladies had both forgotten their doubts, 
 if they had ever felt any. Mrs. Maxfield was 
 more motherly in her kindness than he had ever 
 yet known her ; while Bella seemed alternately 
 in such high and such low spirits — at once so 
 melancholy and so animated, as if she could not 
 help letting him see how sorry she was at his 
 going away, even for three days ; and yet how 
 very sure he might be of a genial welcome when 
 he came back. And so, with the best wishes on 
 both sides, they parted ; and Eeuben was soon 
 trudging along the white road, over hill and moor, 
 gazing every now and then up into the sky, where 
 one very large and beautiful star seemed to shine 
 right down upon him as if for his own special 
 solace, while rather confusing his ideas as to its 
 identity or relationship with Bella. Towards 
 daybreak, when he had completed a good part of 
 his journey, he met a cavalcade, consisting of a 
 kind of light waggon with an awning, drawn by a 
 single horse, and, walking by the horse's side, 
 was the driver and another man, in whom Eeuben 
 recognised the shoemaker who had given evidence 
 before the Coroner as to his finding the squii'e's 
 property. Although Eeuben's own connection
 
 204 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 with the concealed plunder made it dangerous 
 for him to trust himself into much talk on the 
 subject, his curiosity got the better of his pru- 
 dence, so he went up to the lucky shoemaker and 
 greeted him as an old acquaintance. Of course 
 he was instantly recognised, and the good-natured 
 tramp began to tell how his wife and two children 
 were asleep in the waggon ; how that he had got 
 there all his worldly possessions — furniture, tools, 
 &c. ; how he had paid all his debts like a man ; 
 and how, with the squire^s patronage, he was 
 going to begin the world on a new plan and work 
 hard. 
 
 "That's it, my boy ! I've found it out at last. 
 It isn't talking about your luck and running about 
 everywhere after it as if you were hunting a will- 
 o'-the-wisp that makes men get on. No; it's 
 sticking like a burr to the first real thing that 
 offers, and so making luck. I don't say I'm 
 going to earn a fortune ; but I do say that 
 I'm going to be an independent man and give 
 up tramping." 
 
 " Quite right, too," said Eeuben, who could not 
 help sympathising with the man's enthusiasm 
 about his future lot, and who thought to himself, 
 " It isn't everybody who knows how to use a 
 chance so well. I wonder whether he or I will 
 stick longest to our purpose.'^
 
 Reuben's promise to noeby bob. 205 
 
 The shoemaker would not let Reuben go on 
 till they had breakfasted together ; so they turned 
 the cart round to go back for haK a mile or so to 
 a little inn where signs of an early lising host 
 had been noticed ; and, as Eeuben felt somewhat 
 faint with his long walk, and was glad to have a 
 good breakfast without paying for it, he con- 
 sented. By the time they reached the house the 
 shoemaker^s wife and children were awake, and 
 Reuben fancied at the first look of the former 
 that he espied a new reason for the tramper's 
 undomesticated habits — she looked so very 
 shrewish. Reuben, however, could not but 
 admu'e the way in which she got hold of a brown 
 pan of water, and took out a piece of yellow soap 
 from her pocket, and began to rub away vigor- 
 ously at the two half-sleepy, half-crying young 
 faces till she had brought them to a satisfactory 
 state of cleanliness and lustre. Xor could he 
 help a laugh as he happened to turn from the 
 group and met the shoemaker's eye. That sly 
 but cautious man gave an almost imperceptible 
 shrug of the shoulders, and ventured a wink that 
 spoke volumes. The matron was, however, veiy 
 gracious to Reuben when she heard that he was 
 in some remote way or other connected with her 
 husband's windfall; and so, after a capital breakfast 
 off the tea and bread and butter and cold knuckle
 
 206 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 of ham, which were produced from a basket in the 
 waggon, and after a squabble with the innkeeper 
 that he was not content to provide an early break- 
 fast for the value of the hot water and the loan of 
 the tea-things, as the lady seemed to think right, 
 they all parted on mutually good terms ; the cart 
 and the rest of the cavalcade going towards the 
 village where Keuben's last robbery had created 
 them a new home ; and that unsuspected robber 
 pursuing his way towards London, to fulfil a 
 promise made in death to his companion in the 
 robbery. How the worthy though indolent shoe- 
 maker would have stared ii he could suddenly 
 have known the true relation of this pleasant 
 young fellow's doings to himself and his fortune !
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 A thieves' TREASXniER. 
 
 Eeuben reached London in the afternoon, about 
 five o'clock, and hastened away from the station 
 towards Billy Marks*s house. xA.t first he had 
 been inclined to wait in some retired place near 
 the station until it was quite dai-k ; for he had a 
 nervous apprehension of meeting old acquaint- 
 ances in the streets and being recognised by them, 
 and perhaps compelled either to offend them 
 (which was dangerous just now) by his refusal 
 to drink, or to lose precious time by giving him- 
 self up to their society. But, on the other hand, 
 he knew enough of the habits of his old com- 
 panions to be sure they would not be collected in 
 any number at Billy Marks's in the beginning of 
 the evening. Those who had been out exploring 
 for the day would hardly return so soon for the 
 enjoyments of the night, while those who, for 
 reasons of their own, had been keeping indoors 
 during daylight would be just at this time ventur-
 
 208 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 ing out under cover of the evening shades. 
 Eeuben thought, therefore, that it was just pos- 
 sible he might get his business done and him- 
 self safely away to some other and distant har- 
 bourage for the night, before the thieves^ revel 
 would begin ; when, if he were anywhere about, 
 he knew he must join, or be suspected of some 
 grave reason for not doing so. 
 
 Billy Marks^s house was in that curious region 
 of London which has St. Giles's for its northern 
 boundary and Seven Dials for its centre. It was 
 situated in one of those little and silent-looking 
 narrow streets that can there be found. Although 
 a popular house among its own frequenters, the 
 owner did not seem to share in the tastes which 
 have turned so many gin-shops into palaces. On 
 the contrary, the exterior of his house was chiefly 
 remarkable for its dingy respectability. It almost 
 seemed as though it had never been quite decided 
 whether the house should remain what it origi- 
 nally was (a private one), or whether it should be 
 converted into a public-house ; so that the pro- 
 cess of conversion, having been commenced, had 
 apparently stopped half way. The lower portions 
 of the wide and high windows were all filled up 
 with woodwork, so that the glass was almost out 
 of reach ; and the panes that did appear above 
 were ground glass, through which the position of
 
 209 
 
 the flaring gas inside could be known from the 
 surrounding atmosphere, as the nucleus of a 
 Comeths tail is known, by a spot of superior 
 brightness. There was no sign ; no showy bills 
 of attestation of the merits of stout, pale ale, or gin ; 
 nothing but the name, in faint letters, of " ^\il- 
 liam Marks, licensed to sell," &c., in the usual 
 form required by the Excise. 
 
 One peculiarity struck Eeuben now for the 
 first time as a peculiarity — the swing doors, in- 
 side the chief door, which prevented passers-by 
 outside from looking into the place, and which 
 enabled the modest and shrinking persons who 
 resorted to the house to step in and withdraw 
 themselves from observation very quickly. Eeuben 
 knew well enough that such doors had another 
 use ; they might on occasion be suddenly closed 
 and held fast while an escape was going on beyond, 
 though it was part of Billy Marks's system never 
 to quarrel with the police nor allow them to be 
 quarrelled with by his guests. But he was, in 
 the thieves' estimation, *' so very good a fellow " 
 — such a " real A 1 " — such a "jolly trump " — 
 so true to the very backbone — that they knew 
 they could rely upon him for all reasonable and 
 temporary help to get out of the way when 
 danger threatened, provided only they didn't 
 expect too much. 
 
 VOL. I. p
 
 210 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 Eeuben found his wife — a little, peevish, 
 querulous- voiced woman — serving two or three 
 lounging customers at the door, and was told 
 that Billy Marks was sitting alone over a cup of 
 tea in an adjoining room, as he had been out on 
 business and came home late. This was capital, 
 Reuben thought. He went to the door indicated 
 and tapped, reminding himself he must not forget 
 an occasional use of the old language which Billy 
 would expect from him, though he didn't use it 
 much himself. 
 
 " Come in !" shouted the ex-pugilist. 
 
 Eeuben went in. 
 
 " Ah ! Gent Eube, my boy, is that you ? Come 
 back at last ? And where's Nobby Bob ?" 
 
 "Dead.'' 
 
 " Dead !" exclaimed Billy Marks, pushing away 
 the teatray in his astonishment, and then pushing 
 up his hair off his forehead, as if to enable his 
 brain — not a very quick one — to deal with so 
 astounding a fact. " Dead ! Bless my soul!" 
 
 " Yes, Billy, dead ; and I've come to tell you 
 all about it. It's a queer story, and I should 
 hardly expect to be believed, only that you'll see 
 no reason why I shouldn't be believed when you 
 see me here to tell it." 
 
 BiUy Marks looked at Eeuben doubtfully, as 
 though the fact of Nobby Bob's death did seem
 
 A thieves' treasurer. 211 
 
 so beyond belief that he (Eeuben) must not be 
 surprised at any amount of wonder and incre- 
 dulity the story might excite. 
 
 " Well, you see, this is how it was. We got 
 down to the place nicely, kept ourselves quiet, 
 cracked the case the same night, carried off lots 
 of swag — gold and silver plate and jewels, and had 
 a pretty hue and cry after us. We got safely into 
 a wood, and hid the swag in a tree. And there 
 Nobby Bob and I had some talk. Now, Master 
 Billy Marks, I want to tell you the whole truth 
 on the square, and therefore I shall tell you 
 what the talk was about. I was tired of my 
 mode of life ; Nobby Bob wasn't. A difference 
 of opinion, you see. Well, after a deal of chaf- 
 fing on both sides, I agreed to let him have all 
 the swag, and he was to help me off in my new 
 career by swearing never to interfere, nor let 
 anybody else if he could help it. And so we 
 parted. 
 
 " What next followed I know only by putting 
 things I heard from others and things I saw 
 myself together. Nobby Bob, I suppose, got 
 frightened about me — thought I might go back 
 to the tree and make off with the swag — so he 
 removes it to a hole in the ground, was seen 
 doing it, and so the Squire recovered all his pro- 
 perty." 
 
 p 2
 
 212 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 " You don't say so ?" gasped Billy Marks. 
 
 " It's quite true. He's got it all back again, 
 and that seems to have made Nobby Bob des- 
 perate. He found me out at a widow's house, 
 where I was lodging ; but, without any warning, 
 came in at the dead of the night to rob them. I, 
 not knowing who he was, flipped him ; and 
 when they brought the light there was my old 
 teacher and 'pal,' poor Nobby Bob, lying on the 
 ground dying. 
 
 " The moment he knew me he begged me to 
 go to London to tell you, because of his little 
 chick. I told him I would, though I didn't 
 know before he had got a child. And then he 
 died. And here I am." 
 
 " Well, this is a surprise, Gent Rube ! — This 
 is a surprise ! And, as you say, you needn't 'a 
 come if it wasnH true, else I tell you flatly I 
 should mistrust sich a story. Here, you two go 
 away together on your lawful — no, I mean on your 
 or'nary business, he the father of a family, so far 
 as this little boy goes, and you his ' pal,' and now 
 you comes back without him — saj^s he's dead — 
 says you killed him, and the swag's gone. I 
 shouldnH like you to have such a story to tell at 
 the 'Bailey, eh ?" 
 
 " Well, Billy Marks, every word you say is 
 true : and, if it hadn't been for that child and
 
 A thieves' treasurer. 213 
 
 my promise to Nobby Bob, I wouldn't have come 
 and thrown myself on your hospitality. But, 
 look at my arm. That was Nobby Bob's doing 
 when we had this unlucky scuffle. You may 
 think that that alone would have kept me from 
 here if I hadn't felt I ought to come." 
 
 " Yes; there's something in that." 
 
 " Look you, Billy, this is all the money I have 
 left, thirteen bob and a tanner, and I have got to 
 go back again to where I came from. So if 3'ou 
 can't draw it uncommon mild for me as to 
 charges for supper and bed and breakfast, I 
 shall be obliged to ask j^ou to give a poor fellow 
 for nothing what he hasn't got money enough to 
 pay for." 
 
 " Gent Bube ! can you look in my face and say 
 that you haven't made away with that swag, and 
 killed off your pal to cover the transaction ?" 
 
 " Upon my soul, I can." 
 
 " And that that's all the money you've 
 got?" 
 
 *' Upon my soul, it is." 
 
 "Very well. Then say no more about it. 
 You're welcome to have what you like — if only 
 for poor Nobby Bob's sake. Besides, right's 
 right. If what you say be true, and I ain't going 
 to doubt you, you oughtn't to be put to any 
 expenses. Some of the lads have ordered a
 
 214 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 good supper at twelve — so you're in luck ; they'll 
 be glad to see you." 
 
 " Thank you ; but I'm so horribly tired — for I 
 had a walk of thirty miles before getting into the 
 train — that I'll finish our bit of business and go 
 to bed, if you won't mind." 
 
 " Oh, Tery well — as you like. I should have 
 
 thought " there Billy Marks stopped ! 
 
 *' Yes, but as I am leaving the concern, they 
 
 mightn't like '' and there Eeuben stopped. 
 
 " That's true again. Yes — perhaps it'*s best.'' 
 " I suppose you understand all that poor 
 Nobby wished in sending me to you ?" 
 
 " Well, yes ; I reckon he wanted me to cash 
 up faithfully to his chick or babby. Let me 
 see." 
 
 And then Billy IMarks began to rummage out 
 from his pockets handfuls of letters and docu- 
 ments of various kinds, on which he had placed 
 memoranda, sometimes inside sometimes outside, 
 now in ink now in pencil. 
 
 " S'pose you take a pen and a piece of paper ;" 
 and therewith he handed a half sheet of dirty and 
 greasy foolscap paper, ruled, to Eeuben, "and set 
 down the sums I tell you." 
 
 Reuben took his seat at the table, and got 
 ready to record the items of an account which 
 already, in anticipation, he felt some interest in.
 
 215 
 
 " Now, I can't pretend to give you days of the 
 month, and the months of the year, and all that 
 sort of thing. I don't know as I can always be 
 quite sure of the year without a good deal of bother 
 and trouble. Other people have their ways, and 
 I have mine. I never forgets events. If a man 
 brings a hundred pound or more, or only a five- 
 pound note, and teUs me to take care of it for 
 him, and only gives me a hint as to how or where 
 he got it, then, as sure as my name's Billy Marks, 
 he'll have it forthcoming whenever he wants it. 
 They're the fruits of the campaign, and as I'm a 
 sort of Chancellor of the Exchequer to the body 
 politick, why I looks after the fruits, and sticks 
 to 'em. So, of course, I can't forget 'em. Well, 
 now to begin. Write down 179Z. 10s. for Nobby 
 Bob's share of the swag when the jeweller*s shop 
 in Oxford Street was cracked by him and Bully 
 White." 
 
 Reuben wrote it down, though wondering when 
 the incident had taken place. 
 
 *' Well, now write j;<?r contra, as the wise 
 men say, what that affair cost Nobby Bob. 
 lOOZ. for a good stiff alibi. How those two 
 witnesses did swear to be sure ! They made 
 me sweat only to hear 'em ; and though not a 
 man in the court believed them, somehow they 
 created a doubt, and so Nobby Bob got offi
 
 216 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 and loved a doubt ever after. Written that 
 down?" 
 
 "Yes — lOOZ. for an aliU:* 
 
 ** Well, and then 601. for the counsel's fee, and 
 64Z. 17s. lO^d. for other expenses/' 
 
 " Not a very profitable job, apparently, on the 
 whole, this of the jeweller's ?" 
 
 "Don't talk, there's a good fellow; I donH 
 want to rob the innocent orphan, and I'll be 
 very likely to forget something if you set my 
 brains a wandering. AVell, now write down 350?. 
 for Nobby Bob's revenge on the jeweller."' 
 
 " Which side of the account am I to put that ? " 
 
 " Wh}^, to his credit, to be sure. And a credit 
 it was to him in every way, I should say. He 
 felt so aggravated about the jeweller's conduct in 
 getting him trapped for the first business, and 
 making it so expensive for Nobby Bob to get 
 clear away, that, six months after, he broke into 
 his house one Sunday night, all alone, and carried 
 off jewels which he exchanged for that amount 
 before he went to bed." 
 
 Eeuben recognised his old master in that 
 touch ; and as Billy Marks went on, he began to 
 recognise some of his own handiwork in the 
 record of exploits he had almost forgotten tiU the 
 " fruits " began to turn up now as part of the 
 orphan's dowry.
 
 A THTEVES' TREASURER. 217 
 
 We need not further particularise the items of 
 this strange debtor and creditor account, which 
 told of Nobby Bob's adventures and his ups and 
 dowTis for many years, though we must remark 
 that one or two things struck Keuben with 
 surprise. The first was, to see how the credit 
 side of the account was growing, in spite of 
 numerous disasters per contra; for, when the 
 ex-pugilist came to a standstill, Reuben ran up 
 tlie figures and found to his astonishment that 
 the oi*phan was Billy Marks's acknowledged 
 creditor to the extent of above llOOZ. ! No 
 wonder that Billy Marks seemed to feel uneasy 
 when told the total amount. He nodded his 
 head, said there must be some mistake, and began 
 to re-peruse all the backs of his letters, &c., and 
 at last his countenance brightened up with quite 
 an honest smile as he exclaimed, 
 
 '"' I have found it. Here 'tis, almost rubbed 
 out (it was in pencil) — 601. that Nobby Bob 
 brought me once and didn't tell me, as it hap- 
 pened, where he got it. Now, put that to the 
 rest and you'll find, I think, just 1192Z. odd 
 shillings. I know it was 119'^/., for I always go 
 on adding and subtracting in my mind when 
 there's any change of balance, and that's the sum 
 I Lave got put by in a bank for Nobby Bob's 
 boy."
 
 218 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 This honesty was the second thing that sur- 
 prised Reuhen. The man's evident and careful 
 honesty when there were no witnesses to dispute 
 his word if he had chosen to deny every farthing 
 of his debt, struck Reuben very much. 
 
 He couldn't help sajdng what he thought ; but 
 he was answered by the quiet remark, 
 
 " They behave well to me, and I mean to stick 
 to them, honour bright, as long as they do. If 
 they are thieves, what's the use of showing them 
 that there is no honesty in the world, not even 
 among them, or their friends ? Will that make 
 them better ? Not a bit of it. I never shares, 
 myself, in any of their jobs ; I never buys their 
 swag ; but I keeps a sort of honest house for 
 their use, and they comes to it ; and listens to 
 me with great respect ; though I say it as 
 shouldn't say it; and they takes my judgment, 
 and puts their money into my hand, and gives me 
 a good living ; and so, though I don't belong to 
 the fraternity myself, I says nothing to them as 
 do, but * behave yourselves properly whenever 
 you come to me, or don't you come at all,' that's 
 what I says and what they listens to ; and so we 
 gets on very well, and they calls me their 
 treasurer and 'friend,' and I am proud of the 
 titles." 
 
 " And what will you do about the child ? "
 
 A thieves' treasurer. 219 
 
 " Ah ! that's a ticklish question. I wouldn't, 
 if I could help it, let a child o' mine grow up that 
 way. A man's a man ; but a child's only a child, 
 you see." Eeuben quite understood the logic, 
 though it was so briefly and tersely explained, 
 and he said in answer, 
 
 " Of course you think so ; that's just what I 
 wished to hear." 
 
 " Well, I must see what's to be done. It's 
 awkward. The funds in hand will pay well 
 enough for a good school; but, then, even schools 
 will ask some questions, though, I gi'ant, not 
 many, when they've a chance of scholars. It's 
 awkward to say his father was a cracksman, 
 isn't it?" 
 
 " Very," responded Pweuben. 
 
 " AYell, well ; I must do the best I can. I 
 know what Xobby Bob wanted, and why he kept 
 you all so ignorant about his family. He wanted 
 the mother (a decent creature, though she did 
 take to Xobby Bob) not to be seen by any of the 
 young uns ; and so he kept both mother and child 
 far off, on the sly." 
 
 " Then, at all events, I may wash my hands of 
 the affair." 
 
 " Yes, all right. But now, won't you stay up 
 to see the lads ? " 
 
 *' If you will excuse me, I shall be glad ; and
 
 220 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 shall be still better pleased if you will keep my 
 coming here quite unknown." 
 
 " I am afraid 'tis too late for that. My missus 
 see you ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "Anybody else?" 
 
 " Two or three men at the bar that I didn't 
 know." 
 
 " Then she'd tell them, and they'd tell every- 
 body else ; so, if you don't mean to be in for a 
 night of it, you had better go to bed, and I'll 
 say you were clean done up, and couldn't appear 
 till to-morrow." 
 
 " Thank you ! That will be the very thing." 
 
 "Here, Missus!" The ex-pugilist knocked 
 with his feet, and his wife came in. " Give the 
 lad a bit of supper, up in the No. 3 bedroom, and 
 a bit of breakfast early in the morning. He 
 doesn't want to be visible to-night." 
 
 "No. 3?" scowled the wife, and went out 
 without another word. 
 
 " After her, and keep quiet. Good-night, Gent 
 Rube!" 
 
 " Good-night, Billy Marks !" 
 
 Reuben was then led up the narrow stairs to a 
 dirty-looking and ill-smelling room, that seemed 
 to express the character of his whole past life 
 when contrasted with the exquisite cleanliness
 
 A THTEYES' TREASrEER. 221 
 
 and purity he had found at Northope, and which 
 seemed to invite him to so different a future. 
 
 Although greatly fatigued, he could not sleep. 
 He had done his mission satisfactorily, but felt 
 he was in a dangerous neighbourhood. To be 
 sure, there was the protection of Billy Marks, 
 who was evidently satisfied, on the whole. So he 
 tried to believe there was no danger. Still he 
 could not sleep. The odours of the place were 
 overpowering. He heard the hours strike one 
 after another — ten, eleven, and twelve — while his 
 busy thoughts were recalling into vivid life the 
 early days of his training under Nobby Bob. 
 Again he saw the hard-headed robber stand as he 
 stood in giving him his first lesson in pocket- 
 picking, praising his every success and black- 
 guarding him for every failure. Again he re- 
 membered that hour of triumph when Nobby 
 Bob, having said, probably without exactly in- 
 tending it, that if he could get liis gold watch 
 away from his pocket without his — Nobby Bob's 
 — knowledge, he should have it ; he had artfully 
 managed to turn his teacher^s thoughts and eyes 
 in quite another direction, and then had produced 
 before the burglar's wondering eyes the glittering 
 prize. Again he was reviewing the first robbery 
 they did together, when he, the half-frightened 
 pupil. Was caught and the master escaped ; but
 
 222 ONE AGAINST THE WOELD. 
 
 when, just as Eeuben's heart and eyes were alike 
 giving way to grief and alarm, he saw a respect- 
 able gentleman come up, who " knew him so 
 well," and spoke to the policeman, and handed 
 the latter his card in token of respectability, and 
 then, as the gentleman and the boy went off to- 
 gether, the former whispered, 
 
 " Eun when you get round the corner ; I 
 shall." And so he knew that the gentleman 
 himself was only a messenger from Nobby Bob. 
 
 Again — ^but there his recollection stops, for he 
 hears steps blundering up the stairs, as though of 
 a half tipsy man. But, hark ! there is not one 
 man only, but two, three, four — more than 
 Eeuben can well distinguish. He starts up in 
 bed. " Where is Billy Marks ? " he asks him- 
 self, in alarm. A moment more and the door is 
 burst open, and in they come, man after man, 
 with brutal, lowering, and heated faces ; some of 
 them known, others strangers, to Eeuben. As 
 he stares in alarm to see the threatening circle 
 that gathers about his bed, one of them, an old 
 enemy of Eeuben, who had offended him by his 
 pride and by his keeping aloof from him in their 
 pleasures, said, 
 
 " So, Master Gent Eube, we come to give you 
 welcome, since you didn't choose to come to us 
 and receive it." Then, seeing Eeubeli's eyes
 
 A thieves' treasurer. 223 
 
 wandering towards the door, " Oh ! Billy Marks 
 is in bed asleep long ago. We got him off in 
 quiet. He doesn't care, you know, for any rough 
 work." 
 
 " Rough work ? " repeated Eeuben. 
 
 "Ay, we hear strange talk about your pal. 
 There have been people listening at the keyhole 
 who do say he's dead, and that you helped to kill 
 him." 
 
 " I have explained everything to Billy Marks." 
 
 " How very good of you. Can't you let us into 
 your confidence a bit?" 
 
 " Hark ye, Bully White; you know I can't fight 
 you now, for you see I am disabled." 
 
 " Ay, that was Nobby Bob's last blow in de- 
 fence when you murdered him, you treacherous 
 hound ! " 
 
 " Gentlemen," Reuben began, in an appeal to 
 the others, who were evidently growing more 
 and more excited under the language of their 
 leader. 
 
 " Down with him ! " shouted Bully White, and 
 himself struck Reuben a blow in the face that 
 brought the blood, but that also aroused in him a 
 determination to sell his life dearly, maimed as he 
 was. He took one leap right out among them, 
 knocking down two of the rufl&ans by the force of 
 his descent ; then, snatching at a water-jug, he
 
 224 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 levelled it at the head of a thu'd, who was 
 advancing, and who was at once placed beyond 
 the power of further injury. But there Reuben's 
 success stopped. He was suddenly grappled with 
 by Bully "White, and in another instant would 
 have been a dead man but for the interposition 
 of a new combatant in the person of Billy Marks, 
 who, half undressed, came fighting his way into 
 the room with the most wonderful coolness and 
 success, not throwing away a single blow, but 
 punishing his men right and left till he had got 
 to Bully White, who received a blow in the stomach 
 that doubled him up, and left him and Reuben 
 masters of the field. 
 
 ** Get out of this, all of ye, will ye, my pretty 
 lambs ? Oh ! you are nice men, you are ! Do 
 you want to be told again ? " 
 
 They did not need anything of the kind, for 
 they disappeared as fast as they had come. 
 
 " Warm work, boy!" ejaculated the ex-pugilist. 
 *' But they've had a lesson, I think. Go to bed. 
 They won't meddle with you again. Trust me 
 for that. Good-night ! once more." 
 
 Reuben and he shook hands, and the latter 
 tried once more to sleep, after washing away the 
 blood from his face, and at last he got off for an 
 hour or so — not more. 
 
 He was called by the kind and watchful Billy
 
 A thieves' teeasurer. 225 
 
 Marks to breakfast at four o'clock, ate a good 
 meal, and then was taken by Billy himself to the 
 station, in a cab, for which he paid. 
 
 At parting, he said, merely, 
 
 ** I hope you'll prosper, lad, in your new call- 
 ing ; but I fear I shall have to stick to mine — 
 though I don't altogether like it. Good-by ! " 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 GLEAMS OF PEACE, HOPE, AND HONEST LABOUR. 
 
 A STRANGE lull feU upon Reuben for some 
 days after lie had seen the last of his old " pal," 
 and settled the one bit of business that Nobby 
 Bob had left him to do in his dying moments ; 
 a lull of "which the elements were peculiarly 
 mingled — joy and depression of spirit, pleasure 
 and pain, hope and despair. His wound had been 
 dressed at the time by a neighbouring surgeon ; 
 who, after a visit or two, and full explanations to 
 Mrs. Maxfield about dressing it daily, had thought 
 the patient was getting on so well that he need 
 not any longer make formal calls at Northope to 
 see him. But, although Mrs. Maxfield was a 
 good nurse, Reuben was anything but an atten- 
 tive invalid ; and since his visit to London there 
 was a slow but determined tendency in the arm 
 to grow worse. It became gradually more stiff and 
 inflamed, and then again the doctor was called in, 
 and Reuben became more careful, and again there
 
 PEACE, HOPE, AND HONEST LABOUR. 227 
 
 was some benefit obtained. But it was, in truth, 
 the mind that was injuring the body, rather than 
 the body that was affecting the mind ; though 
 mind and body were alike only too well prepared 
 to re-act against each other under the circum- 
 stances. This arm was one of Reuben's troubles, 
 though he thought little of it, and suffered by its 
 consequences rather than by its direct action. 
 
 But during this same period — that is, the two 
 or three weeks succeeding to the attempt on Mrs. 
 Maxfield's house — other things were going on 
 that also materially affected Reuben's state of 
 feeling and view. He tuned Bella^s piano, and 
 tuned it so well that neither of the ladies thought 
 of secretly commenting to themselves on the un- 
 professional way he went about it, or the time he 
 took in the operation. But when he had done so, 
 and began to hint about the necessity of his de- 
 parture and looking for other jobs, &c., I^Irs. 
 Maxfield not only refused to let him go, but said 
 he must be quiet, and not trouble himself with 
 any duties for the present. 
 
 This, however, was irksome to one of so rest- 
 less a disposition as our hero ; so, after he had 
 two or three times begged Mrs. Maxfield to let 
 him be of some use while he tresx3assed upon her 
 hospitality, she allowed him to cast up figures, 
 make out small accounts of sales of dairy and 
 
 Q2
 
 228 ONE AGAINST THE WOKLD. 
 
 farm produce, and, at last, to become at once her 
 unacknowledged book-keeper and clerk. Then, 
 again, she would send him to settle a bill for her 
 in the village, or to make a purchase in the neigh- 
 bouring market town of Hadford of articles wanted 
 for the farm or household. All these things 
 Eeuben did so well when once she made him 
 understand what was expected from him that the 
 widow grew more and more gracious, and at last 
 sent him with Matthie, on a market day, to dis- 
 pose of above a hundred pounds' worth of hay 
 and corn. It is true Eeuben was paid in cheques, 
 crossed for Mrs. Maxfield's bank, so that he could 
 not ver}^ readily have misappropriated the money; 
 but still the trust implied sent a thrill through 
 Eeuben's heart and almost frightened him into 
 asking, " Can I be safely trusted ? " But, some- 
 how, he did not find any great difficulty in coming 
 home with the cheques and handing them to 
 their owner ; or, while in chat with Bella over 
 his tea, in forgetting altogether the height of 
 moral virtue and self-control he had that day 
 achieved. 
 
 But it was the constant communion with this 
 fresh young maiden that he now enjoyed that 
 gave at once the brightest sunshine and deepest 
 shade to his life. Often, under her magic influ- 
 ence, he seemed to be able to look back at his
 
 PEACE, HOPE, AND HONEST LABOUR. 229 
 
 own career as if it were some other man's, or, at 
 least, as a something so far off that it mattered 
 little now. But the spell that produced this de- 
 lusion never lasted long, and was bitterly paid for 
 by the miseiy and shame that succeeded. At 
 times, in the middle of some conversation, when 
 he was full of animation and laughter, and when 
 the musical tones of her voice seemed to Eeuben 
 to linger faintly but lovingly all about him long 
 after their utterance, he would stop as though 
 some hand had been suddenly laid upon his 
 heart, the dew would break out on his forehead, 
 and he would murmur in reply to the changed 
 and anxious face and voice, 
 
 " Oh, 'tis nothing ; the wound troubles me 
 occasionally — that is all." 
 
 And then Bella's face would darken with 
 anxiety. The tears would stand in her eyes, and 
 she would scarcely know what she said, for the 
 words fell so tremulously from her lips that she 
 was frightened at their sound, and at what they 
 might be supposed to convey. 
 
 But then there would be in his eyes no lover- 
 like exultation, no sudden and irrepressible token 
 of reciprocal love. He would more probably rise 
 abruptly and go out for a walk on the wild moor ; 
 or, if it were late, go to his bed-chamber, and 
 there begin the ceaseless wandering that had
 
 230 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 become a part of his nightly life, and which 
 troubled Bella more than he knew of or guessed. 
 
 But in a short time a slight incident began to 
 work serious changes in Reuben's mood. 
 
 It was early in April — a fine, clear morning, 
 and with a gentle wind blowing that seemed to 
 exhilarate Reuben's spirits — when he set out to 
 amuse himself by fishing in the little brook or 
 river that ran under the windows of Mrs. Max- 
 field's house. The spot chosen was some half- 
 mile ofi", where the stream passed thi'ough a 
 charming wood that was a perfect tangle of low- 
 growing trees, wandering branches of blackberry, 
 and other creeping and climbing plants, and 
 where the beautiful wood anemone, and the still 
 fairer flower, so like the anemone — the sorrel — 
 were now in plenteous bloom. 
 
 He could not fish. He had no taste that way, 
 and had only accepted Mrs. MaxfiekVs offer of 
 the loan of her husband's rod and tackle in order 
 to avoid awkward remarks upon his health and 
 spirits ; but, once at the spot, he struck the iron- 
 pointed end of the rod firmly into the ground in 
 an inclined position, and let the line and bait 
 float as they pleased in the water, and catch as 
 many fish as they could without trouble to him. 
 He sat down under the curving line of the rod 
 and looked at the float, but saw neither float, nor
 
 PEACE, HOPE, AND HONEST LABOUR. 231 
 
 water, nor the dark forms gliding about in very 
 mockery of his hook; he saw only that one 
 eternal image which involved for him whatever of 
 beauty or goodness he was yet capable of ima- 
 gining. So deeply was that image stamped upon 
 his heart after so many hours, and days, and 
 weeks of contact, that he did not need to gaze 
 upon the artificial portrait of her that he carried 
 about him. But there were times — and this was 
 one of them — when he grew irritable by the 
 feeling of the net that fate and circumstances 
 had thrown around him, and which — soft and 
 gentle as was its every thread — held him with 
 irresistible force. And in such moods he would 
 seem to yearn for his old and lawless liberty ; and 
 he would pull out the locket from his breast and 
 gaze upon that fair portrait, asking what it was 
 that so thralled him, and trying by new examina- 
 tion to get some better answer. 
 
 He was thus engaged when he heard a voice, 
 saying, 
 
 " What ! too idle to take up the fish you have 
 caught ? " 
 
 Eeuben started, looked up, saw Bella, hid 
 hurriedly the locket he had held, and then, re- 
 membering her words, he looked towards the 
 float and saw it convulsively rising and falling. 
 He leapt to his feet, tore up the rod, and landed
 
 233 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 a fine trout, though it must he owned that it was 
 done a little clumsil3^ He then prepared to 
 return with Bella, but saw her moving rapidly off 
 in quite another direction, scarcely looking back, 
 and giving no further explanation than a slight 
 wave of her hand. 
 
 *' Of course she is going further, and doesn't 
 want me, I suppose, to go with her. 
 
 " And yet how strange, after the laughing way 
 in which she came upon me and spoke. Is it 
 possible she saw this ? " His face visibly 
 whitened as he took the locket from the waist- 
 coat pocket where he had hidden it for the 
 moment. 
 
 " Did she see this ? Did she know it ? 
 And, if she did, did she at once rush to the 
 thought — that I must have been the companion 
 of the man who robbed her mother of it ? Did 
 she forget in an instant all her own dreams about 
 me, and know at last the hard, naked, hideous 
 truth ? 
 
 " Can I go back to the house and to her with 
 this question unanswered? Oh, it is absurd 
 thus to start at trifles ! She could not have 
 identified the portrait in that hasty glance ; and, 
 if she could, it is impossible that she could think 
 me a robber and the friend of robbers, owing to 
 me what they do.
 
 PEACE, HOPE, AND HOXEST LABOUR. 233 
 
 " But what, then, could she think ? That the 
 locket had accidentally fallen into my way, and 
 that I coveted it too much — valued it too dearly 
 to give up my prize ? She would forgive me that ! 
 Oh, there's no fear ! There can he none ! 
 
 " I will get home first. I will make myself 
 unusually agreeahle to the mother. I will appear 
 in capital spirits when she returns. Yes, so she 
 shall find me. And then, if any momentary sus- 
 picion did cross her mind, she will laugh at it 
 and forget it. 
 
 " Forget ? But will she not, even without any 
 fear of me, mention to her mother what she has 
 seen — if she did see ? — and certainly, if she does 
 do so, my possession of it will he challenged. 
 
 " "What am I to say ? That is the question. 
 Stay, Yes, that is what I will do ! I will confess 
 that I found it on the floor after my scuffle with 
 the burglar, and that " 
 
 Here Keuben's thought stopped, in contempla- 
 tion of a new position — perhaps a new difficulty. 
 He had never yet, by look, word, or act, done 
 anything to draw the mother's special attention to 
 his feelings as regarded her daughter. He could 
 not even deny that he had played off" upon the 
 former a subtle bit of double dealing. He had 
 managed to seem on the whole exceedingly atten- 
 tive to the widow, and to be simply polite and
 
 234 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 genial with Bella. But the explanation he might 
 now be driven to make to shield himseK from the 
 danger of discovery in his true character, would 
 have no meaning except as an acknowledgment 
 of love. How would such an explanation be 
 received by Mrs. Maxfield ? How by Bella ? 
 Most likely, he feared, by a coldness so marked 
 as at once to put an end to all these delusions by 
 which he was trying to bribe himself into honesty, 
 and which would render longer residence here 
 impossible. 
 
 In vain did he try to hit upon any other and 
 less serious answer to the question, " How did 
 you get the i)ortrait ? " So that he was obliged 
 to content himself with the hope that, after all, 
 Bella had not noticed the locket in his hand, or 
 that, if she had, she would conceal the fact for 
 the present, and so enable him, perhaps, to deal 
 more satisfactorily with the incident that had 
 caused him so much alarm 
 
 He found Mrs. Maxfield sadly worried by some 
 bill of charges that had been sent in to her, and 
 which she was sure was incorrect. She felt quite 
 glad to see him at once begin to study it item by 
 item, till he had found an important error which 
 had been made against her, and the discovery of 
 which put both her and Keuben into excellent 
 spirits just before Bella came in.
 
 PEACE, HOPE, AND HONEST LABOUR. 235 
 
 But she did not come into the parlour. After 
 a while, Mrs. Maxfield went to seek her, and did 
 not return for nearly an hour, when she seemed 
 quite concerned. 
 
 " Poor Bella ! She has come home quite un- 
 well. But I have put her to bed, and I hope 
 she'll be right again in the morning." 
 
 " I hope so, too," said Eeuben, aloud ; but in 
 his heart he added, '• She'll never be right again, 
 so far as I am concerned ; she knows all about 
 me at last."
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 DID BELLA SEE THE STOLEN LOCKET ? 
 
 If Eeuben might live to the age of Methusaleh 
 he would never forget the anxious misery of that 
 first night, when he feared that Bella had begun 
 to suspect his true character. Again the strong 
 impulse to fly from a pain and shame so unen- 
 durable tempted him ; but it was checked bj^ the 
 consideration that such a flight — which, possibly, 
 might yet be avoided — must be fatal to his last 
 chance with them. Then, again, no moth ever 
 fluttered more helplessly or more persistently 
 round a candle than Eeuben felt compelled to 
 hover about this young maiden. Every hope of 
 a better life that had grown up of late in his 
 breast seemed destined to perish if he quitted her 
 side. If there were such things as guardian 
 angels in this world, she was his. 
 
 That unfortunate locket ! A score of times 
 was it brought forth, in obedience to a kind of
 
 DID BELLA SEE THE STOLEN LOCKET ? 237 
 
 fascination, and then put away again, as if in fear 
 of some secret eye. At last he quieted himself 
 for sleep by saying, 
 
 " I will watch her in the morning. She must 
 meet me again then, and then" and so think- 
 ing, he did, at last, sleep. 
 
 They met at breakfast, as he had expected. 
 Yet, a moment after, he was unable to say 
 whether there was or was not anything of an 
 alarming nature in her behaviour to him. She 
 smiled and shook hands as she met him, but the 
 smile was more languid than usual, and the clasp 
 of hands more brief. So also she wished him, in 
 the old fashion, 
 
 " Good morning ! " but then he could not but 
 feel the tone of the welcoming phrase was less 
 genial than usuaL Of course that might be 
 through the indisposition of the night before. It 
 must be so. He needed the belief. 
 
 Reuben tried hard to eat the savoury slice of 
 broiled ham that Mrs. Maxfield placed before 
 him, and to drink the steaming cup of fragrant 
 coffee that followed ; but the one sickened upon 
 his palate and the other burned his throat, and he 
 desisted. 
 
 Bella did not once speak to him of her own 
 accord after her first greeting, nor could he 
 obtain on a single occasion that glance which he
 
 238 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 had been accustomed to look for and to receive 
 with such eager, though secret, delight. 
 
 "Yes," thought he; "it is clear enough. 
 There can no longer be any doubt. She knows 
 of the locket, and knows me, too, now." 
 
 How heavily the hours dragged on through the 
 whole of that day! Keuben hung about the 
 house, scarcely left it for a single minute — 
 seemed unusually desirous to be busy and to be 
 serviceable — and thus managed to keep up a 
 kind of watch upon the movements of the two 
 women. The fact is that, even in his despair at 
 the thought of Bella's recent discovery, he could 
 not resist a kind of half-insane fancy that all 
 might not be lost if even now he could only pre- 
 vent her from speaking to her mother. 
 
 He tried, therefore, whenever he caught sight 
 of Bella, to win from her a word or a look that 
 might lead to conversation, and so to his 
 influencing her, if she did at all care for him, to 
 keep in her own breast the perilous secret she 
 had discovered. But it almost seemed as if 
 Bella had on her part foreseen that precise 
 danger and determined to avoid it by decHning 
 all opportunity. 
 
 Once only, as he sat after tea in deep and 
 moody silence, his arm, through a sudden move- 
 ment, happened to make him start with a half-
 
 DID BELLA SEE THE STOLEN LOCKET ? 239 
 
 suppressed exclamation of pain ; then she turned 
 to look at him, and their eyes met — hers full of 
 an unspeakable sadness, his of an equally un- 
 speakable apprehension. 
 
 They parted that night exactly as they had 
 met in the morning, except that the cold hand 
 that was offered to him seemed to tremble more 
 now than before. This gave Eeuben new alarm. 
 Was she waiting only for the night to speak to 
 her mother ? Had she been silent all the day in 
 order to give him an opportunity to speak to her, 
 and make any explanation that he could as to the 
 fact of his having in his possession the very 
 locket of which her mother had been robbed ? 
 
 When it was too late — that is, when he had 
 parted with her for the night — he wished he had 
 played a bolder part ; had spoken to her about 
 the locket, and, without acknowledging any fear, 
 had let out the explanation he had prepared to 
 give. An indirect avowal of love might, if it did 
 nothing else, have thrown her into such an 
 agitation and disposed her so favourably towards 
 him that she might have changed, or modified, or 
 suspended her opinion, even if it had become 
 what he feared. 
 
 But when he saw this was too late he also 
 went off immediately — as if to bed ; but, in truth, 
 in order that he might learn by listening if the
 
 240 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 two met that night. He drew off his boots, put 
 out his light, and stood listening just within his 
 door, which he had set ajar. 
 
 Bella was in her own room ; that he knew ; 
 for he was so well acquainted with the sound of 
 her steps that he could in thought follow her to 
 any part of the house as he sat in the parlour 
 listening to them, while seeming to be intent on 
 Mrs. Maxfield's business affairs. To-night he 
 had thus been able to overhear her going straight 
 to her own room. But was she not waiting till 
 her mother came up — to go to her — and there 
 confide all she knew or suspected ? 
 
 As he stood there, listening for Mrs. Max- 
 field's heavier footfall, he became conscious of 
 the increasing pain and stiffness of his arm and 
 of the great heat which seemed to run from the 
 finger-tips right up to his shoulder, and to throw 
 off burning rays that penetrated his very brain. 
 He tried to cool the growing fever in his blood 
 by drinking glass after glass of water and by 
 bathing his burning brow, so that he might keep 
 himself in a condition of mind to watch all that 
 might be passing, and act as prudence might 
 dictate. 
 
 But his hand trembled so violently whenever 
 he raised the glass to his lips : his knees 
 seemed to be so suddenly stricken with weakness
 
 DID BELLA SEE THE STOLEN LOCKET? 241 
 
 while he stood there trying to listen, and such 
 cold shiverings began to alternate with the hot 
 fits, that he was obliged to fetch a chair to 
 enable him to keep his place of observation. 
 But he did keep it ; and, just as the clock gave 
 warning for eleven, Mrs. Maxfield, who had been 
 busy finishing off the trimmings of a new cap, 
 shut the door below, ascended the creaking 
 stairs, and went straight to her own room. 
 
 "That, at all events, is some relief!" thought 
 Reuben. "My ill luck doesn't put it into her 
 head to go to her daughter's room, and so put 
 them in the way of talking together. If 
 Bella " 
 
 But his thoughts are arrested. A step that he 
 knows now only too well for his comfort is gliding 
 along the passage with a softness that seems 
 almost stealthiness. The mother's door is 
 opened and raj^idly closed again. The two are 
 together; and Eeuben's divining soul, which is 
 just now scarcely less feverish and diseased than 
 his body, whispers to him, 
 
 "At last! at last!" 
 
 The sense of impending danger roused once 
 more into activity whatever of bodily or mental 
 power Reuben remained in possession of under 
 the fever that was growing upon him and filling 
 his veins as with molten lava. He stepped out
 
 242 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 into the passage ; listened a moment, to be sure 
 the servant was not still up ; felt the chill breeze 
 coming across his face through some window that 
 had been left open, and again seemed paralysed 
 by it and by the conflict between the two oppos- 
 ing influences of heat and cold. He shook as 
 with an ague — felt severe pains darting through 
 Ms loins and ascending to his shoulder-blades, 
 and could scarcely avoid returning, in obedience 
 to a physical instinct of safety, to his room and 
 to his bed. But he battled bravely with this new 
 and, to him, fearful enemy ; for it was not so 
 fearful as the thought that still was leading him 
 on — that he might possibly be able to listen 
 outside the door, where the two were now to- 
 gether, and know all that he most needed to 
 know. 
 
 He reached the place, though he was then 
 obliged to hold by the lintels of the door, and 
 risk all the danger of another discovery only less 
 humiliating than the chief one — that of his being 
 foimd outside — a listener. 
 
 For a few seconds he could hear nothing, there 
 was such a tumult of the blood in his own ears ; 
 but at last, after long and low murmuring within 
 the room, he heard a kind of smothered ciy of 
 anguish, then a shaking of the bed, and then 
 weeping and sobbing. He could listen no more.
 
 DID BELLA SEE THE STOLEN LOCKET ? 243 
 
 He staggered back, like a drunken man, to his 
 room, or rather like one who is doomed, but 
 doomed by such a stroke that it is not even 
 possible to bear up under it with the smallest 
 semblance of manly fortitude and manly self- 
 respect. 
 
 He staggers in through the open door of the 
 bedroom ; he tries to collect his trifling posses- 
 sions, but with hands so hot that the mere touch 
 of the earthenware basin sends a shudder through 
 his frame ; but his brain reels. 
 
 " Where am I ? What must I do ? O God ! " 
 A moment more and he is spared all further 
 consciousness ; he hes on the floor delirious with 
 fever. 
 
 Let us repeat the conversation which Eeuben 
 had striven to hear : — 
 
 " Mother ! are you in bed ? " 
 
 " Yes ; but come here. How is it you are not 
 yet in bed ? Why, child, what is the matter ? 
 How you tremble ! Dear me, whatever is it ? 
 Speak ! " 
 
 " Oh, mother ! I don't know how to tell 
 you." 
 
 " Nonsense, Bella. You don^t mean '' 
 
 "What, mother?" 
 
 " That you have taken a liking to Why, 
 
 s 2
 
 244 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 what does possess you, to sliudder like that ? I 
 declare you are quite frightening me ! '^ 
 
 *' Oh, mother ! can he — can he be a rob- 
 ber ? " 
 
 " A robber ! " exclaimed Mrs. Maxfield, start- 
 ing, and sitting up in her bed. "A robber!" 
 she repeated. " Who ? " 
 
 " Why, this — this stranger." 
 
 " Bella, dear, are you out of your right mind ? 
 Didn't Ije defend us from that dreadful robber 
 who would have broken into the house ?^* 
 
 Bella sighed deeply and was silent, as if again 
 a gleam of hope came with her mother's words — 
 words that she had said previously so often to 
 herself that they had lost at last all power. 
 
 *' Mother, he has got the locket." 
 
 " The locket ? Nonsense V 
 
 "I saw it in his hands when he was fishing 
 yesterday, although he hid it the moment he saw 
 me.^' 
 
 Mrs. Maxfield was now silent in turn, evidently 
 puzzled and uneasy, but unwilling to think ill of 
 one to whom she had given so much of her con- 
 fidence ; and especially unwilling to believe that 
 a young, inexperienced girl could have so much 
 more penetration than herself as to be right in 
 her alarm, even if this story of the locket were 
 true.
 
 DID BELLA SEE THE STOLEN LOCKET ? 245 
 
 " But, Bella, you are not usually so suspicious. 
 How is this?'' 
 
 As Bella gave no answer, the mother went on. 
 
 *' Don't you see that the locket may have acci- 
 dentally got into his possession, and that he took 
 a fancy to it for some cause or other ? " 
 
 Again Mrs. Maxfield wondered at Bella's 
 silence, but went on speaking herself: — 
 
 ** Very likely, after all, he valued it as a relic 
 of us. You know I have been kind to him, 
 and '' 
 
 "Mother!" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " I didn't like to tell you before, for it seemed 
 so shocking that I didn't myself believe it — no, 
 not for a minute. But that dreadful night, while 
 I was waiting outside, trembling and listening, 
 wanting him to take from me the powder and 
 ball I had fetched, I heard the two men talking 
 within quite low, not a bit like what I had 
 expected ; and the horrible thought came to me 
 that they knew one another — that they were com- 
 panions — and that, after the older one had robbed 
 us on the hill, the younger one had come up 
 merely to get acquainted with us, and so to do 
 some more dreadful act afterwards. And now 
 they were met in our house, and were talking in 
 low voices together. But just as I was about to
 
 246 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 run back and tell you I heard the guns fired, and 
 then I could think only how false and cruel my 
 suspicions had been. And then, when I went 
 into the room, there was he wounded, and stand- 
 ing over the dead robber." 
 
 Mrs. Maxfield had during this slid out of bed, 
 and begun to put on her clothes, though her acts 
 were curiously belied by her words, which per- 
 sisted in expressions of disbelief. 
 
 "Why, of course, Bella, everybody felt just 
 that ; everybody must feel so.'^ 
 
 " Yes, mother. But listen — I have been silent 
 too long ; I know I have, and I feel now how 
 wrong it was." 
 
 " Do you know anything more ? " 
 
 " I know, mother," she said, with increasing 
 vehemence — " I know that I have again and 
 again heard him say things that have filled me 
 with doubts and vague alarms ; but somehow I 
 could not tell them to you — could not quite 
 believe them myself. You know that the shep- 
 herd boy said there were two came into the valley 
 together ; you know that Mr. Jessop said he and 
 the robber dined together, and were friendly 
 while in his house ; you know that it was he who 
 gave to us the other portrait, wrapped up and 
 addressed, which he said had fallen from the 
 pocket of the dead robber ; you know how strange
 
 DID BELLA SEE THE STOLEN LOCKET ? 247 
 
 he often seems, even with us — how he walks 
 ahout at night " 
 
 " Pooh — pooh, silly giii ! You are frightening 
 yourself unnecessarily." 
 
 " Oh, mother, do you — do you think so ? " cried 
 the poor girl, almost convulsively. 
 
 " To be sure I do. There, go back to bed, 
 and we'U talk it over by ourselves to-morrow; 
 and you'll see he'll give us a proper explanation 
 the moment we ask him." 
 
 But here the speaker is interrupted ; for, after 
 a vain attempt at repression, Bella gives one 
 piteous cry of, 
 
 " Oh, mother ! " and then begins to sob so 
 violently and with such a passion of grief that the 
 mother can no longer misunderstand what is 
 passing before her, but takes her daughter in her 
 arms and kisses her, and quiets her, and at last 
 whispers, 
 
 " There — there — don't cry, darling. I fear I 
 have been very blind. Come, undress and get 
 into. my bed; we will sleep together, and pray to 
 God to enlighten us as to what we ought 
 to do." 
 
 And the poor child, who had thus thrown off 
 at last a burden that had become too great for 
 her, and who had obtained what she had yearned 
 for but dared not hope, her mother's condemna-
 
 248 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 tion of her fears, was soon undressed, and soon 
 nestling in her mother's bosom and going oif 
 into a happy sleep ; for again her faith had 
 revived.
 
 CHAPTEK XXIV, 
 
 BELLA LEARNS ALL AT LAST. 
 
 Breakfast next morning happened to be a 
 little later than usual through these events ; 
 there was, therefore, all the more reason for won- 
 dering that Reuben was not down when the two 
 ladies entered the parlour. 
 
 " The lie-a-bed ! " exclaimed Mrs. Maxfield, 
 good-humouredly. " Eun, Bella, and knock at 
 his door, and ask him if he knows it is nearly 
 nine o'clock." 
 
 Bella did begin to run, as her mother said, and 
 there was the old vivid blush on her face at the 
 thought of what her mother's manner implied ; 
 but she stopped when she had got a few yards, 
 and determined she would send the seiwant 
 instead. Then, again, that seemed so full of 
 consciousness of something which Bella felt she 
 had no right to dwell on that she fulfilled the 
 message herself after all. She knocked, but she 
 got no answer.
 
 350 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 Presently Mrs. Maxfield, who was pouring out 
 a cup of tea, heard a violent scream. Then, 
 rememhering the last night's conversation, she 
 jumped instantly to the conclusion that some 
 practical evidence was forthcoming of the folly of 
 her own confidence in Reuben. The first result 
 was that she ran to a cupboard where she kept 
 her money, unlocked the door, took out a cash- 
 box, opened it, though with difficulty, on account 
 of her nervous fright, and saw all her money 
 safe; then, thinking only of her daughter, she 
 forgot cash -box, cupboard, and everything else, 
 as she ran upstairs, leaving the money ready for 
 dishonest hands, if any such were near, as for- 
 tunately for her there were not. 
 
 On reaching the passage where Reuben's room 
 was she saw her daughter still outside, but stand- 
 ing there like one who had suddenly been frozen 
 into ice or petrified into stone by an unexpected 
 revelation of horror. 
 
 She was just able to murmur, 
 
 " Oh, mother ! I am afraid to go in ; but he is 
 raving mad." 
 
 And in that condition did the two women find 
 their guest, though he was no longer lying on the 
 floor. He had got up in some moment of com- 
 parative sanity and crawled on to the bed, still 
 dressed, with the exception of his coat.
 
 BELLA LEAENS ALL AT LAST. 251 
 
 It was no wonder that Bella had stood there 
 resisting every womanly and natural impulse to 
 help one so afflicted. These were the words the 
 mother caught, among many more that were un- 
 intelligible, but terrible enough even in their 
 vagueness. 
 
 " I won't have it. No blood ! no blood ! There 
 never was any yet on my hand, and there shan't 
 be. Do you hear ? " 
 
 " We'll rob him, if you like. That's all right 
 enough, while we are as we are." 
 
 " Ay, it's a miserable life after all. Women, 
 such women ! They make even a young man 
 feel old and grey in wickedness. But I've done 
 with them. But, hush ! That's a secret yet. 
 Oh, I have been thinking about it for a long 
 time, and now I mean to act. Yes, now's the 
 time. A little extra courage, that's what's wanted. 
 Tell him your mind, and have done with it. He's 
 only a bully at bottom, though he has overawed 
 me so long." 
 
 Then he began to sing, 
 
 '* ' How the world goes round and round, 
 How the world goes round. ' 
 
 " But, stop ! stop ! I want to stop, only I'm 
 so confounded dizzy. What was I singing ? " 
 Again he sung. This time it was the verse
 
 253 ONE AGAINST THEWORLD. 
 
 from the flash song that he had chanted to 
 Nobby Bob in the forest, 
 
 " * A cross cove is iu the street for me, 
 And I a poor girl of a low degree ; 
 If I was as rich as I am poor, 
 Ye never should go on the cross no more.' 
 
 " What d'ye think of that. Nobby ? No— no ; 
 don't be a fool ! Nobody can hear me. Don't 
 you know we're two hundred and more miles 
 from the beak and from Bow Street ? 
 
 *' Ay, I can tell you — though I don't care to 
 talk about it — she just is beautiful ! But that's 
 the least of the matter. Hark ye ! Can you 
 keep a secret ? Listen ! Well, I have found out 
 that there is some sense in honesty and good- 
 ness. She's taught me that. 
 
 " Ah ! If — only — she — knew ! " 
 
 This was said with so much feeling that 
 Bella's eyes began to overflow, but her mother 
 had heard enough. A few minutes had changed 
 her whole heart towards Reuben. She forgot 
 all he had done or seemed to do for her ; she 
 remembered only the appalling truth. She had 
 brought a robber into her house, into her confi- 
 dence, and, worse than all, into her daughter's 
 heart. 
 
 " But, mother," said Bella, hesitatingly, and
 
 BELLA LEARNS ALL AT LAST. 253 
 
 about to say something in pity of his present 
 condition and need. 
 
 " Go, I say, and leave him to me." 
 And Bella obeyed ; and the mother, with 
 stern face and unpitying heart, sat down to listen 
 to whatever else he might say, not from any 
 curiosity — she was too much horrified for that — 
 but in order to enable her to judge better of his 
 condition and think to herself how she was to 
 deal with so extraordinary a calamity as this that 
 had befallen. 
 
 It was nearly an hour before the doctor 
 came. During the greater part of the time 
 Mrs. Maxfield could only continue to encourage 
 the anger she felt at having been so grossly 
 imposed upon. Every word that broke from the 
 white and parched lips helped to confirm the 
 truth, so recently discovered, that this young 
 man, whom she had received with so much 
 confidence into her family, whom she had even 
 secretly thought of as a husband for her daughter, 
 and who had, without waiting for a mother's 
 sanction, already entangled the unsuspecting 
 girl's affections, was literally a robber, and in all 
 probability had come into their house with the 
 view to a robbery of them. She understood now 
 clearly the meaning of the facts brought out at 
 the inquest about the meeting of the two men
 
 254 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 at "The Traveller's Joy/' and the evidence of 
 Tommy Larke, the shepherd. So, also, the pos- 
 session by Keuben of the locket was explained ; 
 and as she thought of these things she grew more 
 and more bitter with the sense of the humilia- 
 tion, as well as more and more frightened at the 
 prospect of the danger. Well (she said to herself), 
 she knew the truth at last ; and she would at all 
 events keep sharp watch now upon him till he 
 was out of the house and the neighbourhood. 
 
 Ought she to give him up to justice, and leave 
 it to the law to determine whether or no there 
 was sufficient evidence to commit him for trial ? 
 No ; she would not do that. There would be too 
 much exposure involved. Besides, she must not 
 forget her poor Bella; who, while glad enough, 
 no doubt, of her escape, would be appalled at the 
 idea of their taking up a hostile attitude towards 
 him. No ; they must get rid of him as quietly 
 as they could, and she must address herself with 
 all her care, to lessen to her poor child the con- 
 sequences of so great a shock. 
 
 While she was thus thinking, and letting her 
 angry thoughts flow in a kind of strange accom- 
 paniment to Reuben's delirious speech, she sud- 
 denly got up from her chair, moved by some 
 impulse, and went towards a coat which she saw 
 hanging on the back of the door.
 
 BELLA LEARNS ALL AT LAST. 255 
 
 " It is no time to stand on niceties now ; such 
 a man puts himself beyond the pale of ordinary 
 courtesies. I will see what he carries about 
 him." She found nothing of moment in the 
 pockets of his coat, and was again hanging it up 
 when she felt, as she thought, a thickening in one 
 particular part. So she felt that part carefully 
 all over, and then could distinguish the shape of 
 something within that clearly was neither the 
 external cloth nor any part of the internal lining. 
 She drew out a pair of scissors from a case in 
 her pocket and ripped up the lining, and lo ! a 
 purse — her daughter's purse ! 
 
 " Just as I thought. I thought I knew the 
 shape of it by the feel outside. So he shared, 
 did he, the fruits of the very robbery about which 
 he was so full of hypocritical sympathy ! Oh, 
 the young villain ! And I to be so imposed 
 upon ! No doubt, then, Bella was correct about 
 the locket. But where has he hidden that ? It 
 is not here. He must have it about him.^^ 
 
 After simply taking off his coat the previous 
 night Eeuben had thrown himself on the bed as 
 he was ; and, of course, remained in the same 
 state all through his subsequent hours of delirious 
 anguish. Mrs. Maxfield went back to the bed- 
 side and gazed upon him. He had turned with 
 his face towards her, and she shrunk in fear as
 
 256 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 she saw him look her way. But he took no 
 notice. He did not know her, though his ravings 
 seemed to show that some impressions, partly 
 false, partly true, had been made upon him by 
 her presence. 
 
 The pain exhibited in that youthful face did 
 then for a moment overpower the widow's stern 
 resolves with something like pity. She took a 
 handkerchief from her pocket, dipped it in the 
 water-jug, and wrapped it round his burning 
 brow. This evidently soothed him a little — he 
 dropped back, with eyes partly closed, and in a 
 few minutes was in a state as nearly resembling 
 sleep as it was possible for a human being to be 
 with the brain in such a state of morbid activity. 
 
 Mrs. IMaxfield now looked closely at his waist- 
 coat, and after a time was able, during one of his 
 movements, to perceive — inside it — the opening 
 of a pocket in the lining, some distance from the 
 edge. She could not help trembling as she shd 
 her hand across his breast, under the waistcoat, 
 to reach this pocket, for the act made her feel 
 as though she were herself for the instant a kind 
 of thief. But his unceasing restlessness caused 
 her to draw her hand back in a fright, without 
 having actually got into the pocket at all. She 
 was too much engrossed (perhaps even too much 
 agitated) to reflect that, in his present state, she
 
 BELLA LEARNS ALL AT LAST. 257 
 
 might do what she pleased with him, and yet be 
 quite free from the danger of his discovering 
 anything about it then. 
 
 But she had a great desire to get back this 
 locket. It seemed to her that while he held it he 
 would be still dwelling upon the possibility of 
 Bella^s affection ; for she was inconsistent enough, 
 poor woman ! to believe the sick robber did care 
 for her daughter, even while she continued to 
 reason about him and his actions on the hypo- 
 thesis of robbery being his exclusive end and 
 aim. Presently she heard the doctor's horse 
 galloping along the hard road, and then she re- 
 membered that the doctor might himself discover 
 the locket in its hiding-place, and so guess just 
 what the poor mother didn't want anybody now 
 to guess or speculate upon. Again she slid her 
 hand, but more determinedly, into the inner 
 pocket of Reuben's vest, and drew forth the 
 locket which the young thief had placed so near 
 to his heart. 
 
 Reuben just then gave a deep sigh, as though 
 conscious either of some relief or some great 
 trouble ; and the mother could not but feel 
 moved, nor avoid a superstitious belief that he 
 was in some way conscious of her act and re- 
 proaching her for it. 
 
 But all such reflections were cut short by the
 
 258 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 opening of the door, and by the doctor's appear- 
 ance on the threshold, accompanied by Bella, 
 who had evidently been doing her best to wash 
 away before he came the tell-tale tears that per- 
 sisted in flowing forth every now and then ; but 
 who, while desiring to shun observation, could 
 not help lingering for a single moment at the 
 door, nor casting one most anxious and inquiring 
 glance towards the bed before she retired in the 
 same silent way in which she had approached. 
 
 " Why, what's the matter with our young hero 
 now ?" asked the doctor. " Is greatness too 
 much for him ? The fame of his valour I find 
 is flying everywhere about through the whole 
 valley." 
 
 " Please to look at him/' said Mrs. Maxfield, 
 evasively. '* We found him in this state only an 
 hour ago, when we came to call him to breakfast. 
 He is quite delirious." 
 
 *' Oh ! I think you needn't be frightened. He's 
 a strong young fellow, and not to be knocked over 
 like a ninepin by a rude blow. The wound and 
 the excitement together have no doubt done it 
 aU." 
 
 While the doctor was thus speaking, and while, 
 after his speaking, he went to feel Eeuben's 
 pulse, look at his face and head, examine the 
 state of his wound, l\:c., all as carefully as he
 
 BELLA LEARNS ALL AT LAST. 259 
 
 <:ould, Mrs. Maxfield vras hurriedly thinking to 
 herself, 
 
 " Shall I tell him what I have discovered ? 
 No, I think not. It will he pleasanter for us 
 when he has gone away if no one else knows. 
 Besides, the young man may have, intended better 
 things than we give him credit for in coming 
 to us. It would be cruel to deprive him of a 
 chance of living an honest life in future, if that 
 is really what he means. No ; I think I'll keep 
 things as quiet as I can, both for his sake and 
 ours." 
 
 No doubt Mrs. Maxfield intended to reason 
 justly, and therefore believed in her reasons 
 when she spoke of doing this partly for his sake ; 
 but it is equally clear that she thought a great 
 deal more of the benefit to herself and daughter 
 of the secrecy proposed.^^ 
 
 Presently the doctor began to listen to some of 
 Reuben's ravings with curiosity. 
 
 " Oh, it's a bad life ! it's a mistake ! Give it 
 up !" Then, as if his own words had misled 
 him and drawn him off into another track, he 
 went on: "Yes; give it up to me! Splendid 
 place up here ! Make a fine owl's nest, for it 
 opens to the au\ I can see the stars through 
 this hole in the tree. If the Squire's plate had 
 been twice as bulky this would hold it all. Don't 
 
 3 2
 
 260 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 you wish we were going to try if it wouldn't, 
 Nobby Bob ?" 
 
 "Nobby Bob," echoed the doctor, half in 
 amazement, half in wonder. 
 
 " Oh, it seems to me that his poor brain has 
 got quite muddled with all the stuff we heard at 
 the inquest about the robbery, and the conceal- 
 ing the plate in or about a tree." 
 
 " Oh, yes, I understand. Well, well ; we'll 
 soon set him right again, I doubt not. Keep 
 that wet handkerchief to his head ; it can't do 
 harm and may do good. Change it as often as 
 it gets hot. I'll send you some medicine im- 
 mediately, and call to-morrow. But I predict 
 this will be a short case, though it's a little heady 
 and furious while it lasts."" 
 
 *' Thank you ; we should like to have him 
 better for his own sake, poor young man. You 
 know he's quite a stranger to us." 
 
 " Yes, yes ; I know. You took him in quite in 
 the scriptural way, and you have been rewarded." 
 
 " Yes," said Mrs. Maxfield, drily, for she was 
 thinking of anything rather than what the doctor 
 referred to — the service Eeuben had performed 
 in defending the house and family from the mid- 
 night burglar. 
 
 " Miss Bella doesn't look very well this morn-
 
 BELLA LEARNS ALL AT LAST. 261 
 
 "Oh! 'tis nothing — nothing/' hurriedly re- 
 sponded the mother, half divining that the doctor 
 was ahout to hint something ahout the connec- 
 tion between her indisposition and Eeuben's 
 great danger. But the doctor, whatever he might 
 have desired to learn for liis own use or satisfac- 
 tion, said no more, and so they parted.
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 KEUBEN THINKS TO EVADE TROUBLE. 
 
 About midnight, that is to say, about four- 
 and-twenty hours after the first attack, Eeuben 
 woke to a kind of consciousness. He seemed to 
 himself to have just wakened from the sleep that 
 followed the attack made upon him in the garret 
 at Billy Marks's, so vivid was the impression 
 remaining of all the incidents of that affair. 
 Feeling pain all over him, every limb aching and 
 languid, and a confusion of brain so great that 
 he could not for a long time tell where he was, 
 Eeuben did at last realise that he had been 
 dreaming, and dreaming with extreme vividness, 
 of events that had not taken place this night, but 
 some time previously. 
 
 In vain he struggled for mental light. There 
 was a kind of stupor over him that seemed to 
 shut out every avenue to perception ; he only 
 knew he wanted very much to be able to perceive.
 
 EEUBEN THINKS TO EVADE TROUBLE. 263 
 
 to think, and, above all, to know what was the 
 matter with him. 
 
 As he lay in this way for an hour or two, again 
 and again going off into absolute sleep or insen- 
 sibility, he became aware of some one's presence 
 in his chamber. He heard, or fancied he heard, 
 a door open and close ; then a step ; and then 
 it seemed to him that some one was actually 
 standing over him, looking down upon him ; and 
 yet so great, so irresistible was the stupor, that 
 he could not open his eyes and see who it vras. 
 Once he fancied he did at last open them just for 
 a moment, and a thrill of horror passed through 
 him to see nothing, while still feeling there was 
 some human or supernatural being near. 
 
 Suddenly he feels an exquisiteh' gi'ateful sense 
 of something cool passing across his brow, and 
 drawing away as if in innumerable thin streams 
 or threads all the pain of his head. The thick 
 darkness seemed to grow lighter by degrees. If 
 now, he thought, he could only open his eyes he 
 must surely see if there was any one tliere, or if 
 he were all the while only dreaming on in this 
 terrible way. Again he feels the coolness upon 
 his brow. It is now as if an angel had de- 
 scended from the skies and breathed gently upon 
 his forehead. How sweet it is ! 
 
 " Oh, do not fly ! '" he seemed to yearn to say
 
 264 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 to it ; " wait for me till I know you again as I 
 knew you once when I was a very little child." 
 And the presence seems to understand the un- 
 spoken thought, and to stay, and to smile upon 
 him, and to whisper,^ 
 
 " I will stay. Be patient. You shall know me 
 yet — who I am." 
 
 And then for the third time the delicious cool- 
 ness caresses his brow, and the world grows sud- 
 denl}' brilliant, and his eyes open, and though 
 they are at first dazzled by a glare of light from 
 which the}^ are obliged to turn away, it is only to 
 enable them to see, when again they open, the 
 bending form and fair face of Bella Maxfield. 
 
 Yes, Eeuben sees that, and sees the glad and 
 brilliant flush of maiden shame that spreads 
 over the fair cheek at being thus unexpectedly 
 surprised while trying secretly to minister to his 
 wants, and he can just hear and comprehend her 
 words. 
 
 " You are better. Mother will be so glad ; I 
 will tell her." And then, a moment after, she 
 was gone ; and, although the candle she had held 
 remained, the former darkness seemed to come 
 round him as if to repossess itself of the whole 
 of Eeuben's life — past, present, and future. 
 
 He knew where he was now, though for a 
 time he still did not remember his horrible
 
 REUBEN THINKS TO EVADE TROUBLE. 265 
 
 position. That face, that blush, in his present 
 twilight of mind, carried him back to the days 
 preceding the dread discover}'; and made him 
 feel happy, strangely happy, in his bed of sick- 
 ness, in spite of a consciousness of surrounding 
 gloom, which he had no need yet to examine. 
 
 But he was also conscious of intense bodily 
 languor, that seemed to weigh down his spirits 
 and suggest an impending evil. What could it 
 be ? She was the same. Sweet and modest as 
 ever, and by no means inclined to forget him. 
 "Would she had stayed ! He might not have 
 been able to talk to her ; but what good it would 
 have done him to have her sit there by his side 
 prattling to him, and allowing him, now and 
 then, to look upon her face. 
 
 Ah ! — her portrait ! Was that safe ? He put 
 his hand to his breast outside the vest — feels it 
 is gone ; he thrusts the now fierce hand inside ; 
 the pocket is empty. Eeuben cannot but cry 
 out. And then, alas ! he finds himself awakened 
 once more to the real light of day, and to all the 
 cruelty of the actual truth, so different from his 
 late pleasant dreams. 
 
 Again he feels the fire, so nearly extinguished, 
 burning up fiercely in his brain, mounting higher 
 and higher with every thought of anguish and 
 despair that comes across his mind.
 
 266 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 " I have been out of my senses, and I shall 
 lose them again if I do not take care. Sta}', 
 stay, stay ! Yes, I remember that I took off my 
 coat when I came in, and then I felt such intense 
 pain — such shiverings and burnings, and then 
 
 . No, no ; it is all a blank from that time. 
 
 and yet, a blank in which I seem to have lived 
 over again my whole life. 
 
 " But the portrait. Was it here when I came 
 to bed ? Yes ; I'll swear to that. And now it is 
 gone. 
 
 " To lie down and die will be at once the 
 easiest and wisest plan. I feel three parts dead 
 already. Can't I help the process ? If I could 
 reach my razor. VU. try ; though my limbs don't 
 seem to belong to me any longer." 
 
 Eeuben slid off the bed on to the strip of 
 carpet, quite unable to stand, and began to crawl 
 towards the dressing-table, when a new thought 
 arrested his progress. 
 
 " Let me be sure it is as I suppose. If they 
 have searched me, l3'ing in that state on the bed, 
 they have previously searched my coat. The 
 purse was there." 
 
 Eeuben reached the door, and got on to his 
 knees, and then was just able to let his hands 
 creep up the coat by holding to it for support 
 at the same time, till they reached the place
 
 REUBEN THINKS TO EYADE TROUBLE. 267 
 
 where the purse once was, but was now no 
 longer. 
 
 "Yes, that's clear enough. Well, 111 soon 
 settle all now." 
 
 And as he again crawled towards the spot 
 where he could obtain the instrument to end his 
 miserable existence, he felt himself speculating 
 on his own motives. 
 
 " Suicide ! I didn't think to end life that 
 way, either. Nor do I think I should do it if I 
 could get this honible heat out of ni}- brain. But 
 that, and the seeing them again, now that they 
 know me to be a robber, are enough for me. 
 Quite enough." 
 
 He did not hear the step that was behind 
 hLm ; did not know of the watcher who was fol- 
 lowing him, wondering as to his purpose, yet half 
 guessing it, and waiting t6 be quite sure — waiting 
 till the shaking hand opened the little drawer of 
 the looking-glass and touched the ivorj'-sheathed 
 danger. Then there was a hand laid upon his 
 hand, stronger at present than his own ; and for 
 an instant he gazed at the hand as if fascinated 
 by its thin white fingers, not turning his head to 
 see to whom it belonged, for he had fancied it 
 was Bella^s, and dared not meet her gaze. 
 
 *' Madman I Are you so wicked as this ? " 
 demanded Mrs. Maxfield, in a tone of lofty anger,
 
 268 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 that, perhaps, was of all things the best calculated 
 just then to check Keuhen's mood. " Have you 
 not sinned enough in 3'our life but you would now 
 make your death a still greater sin ? So young, 
 can you be so hardened against levery thought of 
 God, who intrusted to you this frame for wise 
 and good purposes, and added to it talents that 
 might have made you conspicuous among your 
 fellow-men ? Come back, this instant, to your 
 bed, and there, I conjure you, pour out your soul 
 in thankfulness to Him that you have been spared 
 this last and worst outrage." 
 
 Pteuben had neither voice, nor thought, nor 
 strength of any kind to contend with her. He 
 had only a kind of fear that she would shame 
 him, if he did not obey her, by lifting him as a 
 child back to the bed. So he was got back, he 
 knew not how, partly by his own efforts, partly by 
 hers ; and then, when he had sat for a few minutes 
 staring like a maniac towards the window, and 
 wondering what it was this woman was saying to 
 him, he was brought back by the sight of a tear 
 glittering in the woman's eye, and something of 
 nervous sympathy quivering about her lip, and 
 then he heard her say to him, 
 
 " Oh, I beseech you, if you are sorry for your 
 past life, and determined to amend it, do not add 
 to our grief — to mine and my daughter s " — she
 
 EEUEEN THINKS TO EVADE TROUBLE. 260 
 
 could not help lowering her voice over that last 
 word, as if to make it pass more easily or alto- 
 gether unnoticed, and thus onlv made it seem the 
 more full of significance — '"'by any rash and evil 
 behaviour. We will nurse you till you are well. 
 Then, all we ask is, that you will go away in 
 peace, with our best wishes, and with your guilt 
 unknown to any but ourselves." 
 
 Reuben looked at her, as his feeble mind strove 
 to take in, sentence by sentence, the full meaning 
 of all she said ; and at last his Hp began to quiver, 
 and then he tried to command his emotion in a 
 manly manner; but he could not, he was yet 
 scarcely of man's years, and he was sorely tried. 
 So he turned and dropped on the bed, giving way 
 to his grief in a manner new to him, and which 
 wrung Mrs. Maxfield's heart, as she heard his 
 low sobs, and saw the rise and fall of his quiver- 
 ing shoulders and frame. 
 
 " Come, come, be of good cheer ! You are so 
 very young, and therefore have so much time to 
 set things right both with God and man. Now 
 quiet yourself, and I will come in again by-and- 
 by. Only, before I go, if I ask you one request, 
 or favour if you like to call it so, dare you refuse 
 me ? " 
 
 Eeuben shook his head. 
 
 "I do not understand that. Do you give me
 
 270 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 your solemn promise that neither now nor here- 
 after you will touch your own life ? Give me 
 that assurance, and I on my part promise you in 
 
 all sincerity mine and Bella's " she here went 
 
 back to alter her words, " mine and my daughter's 
 full forgiveness." 
 
 " I promise," said Eeuben, in a hollow voice. 
 
 *' Good-by, then, for a little while ! Compose 
 yourself. Sleep if you can." And so saying, Mrs. 
 Maxfield went out, carrying with her, as a precau- 
 tion, the razor. 
 
 " Sleep ! " echoed Reuben, mockingly to him- 
 self, as he turned his face to the wall, and there 
 lay, hour after hour, without movement or sign of 
 life.
 
 CHAPTEE XXVI. 
 
 TEE doctor's STRAXGE CONDUCT. 
 
 The doctor was right in his faith in Pteuuen s 
 vital stamina. He began steadily to mend, 
 though he was at once so silent and so depressed 
 that the doctor was strangely puzzled. Usuall}- 
 he had found such patients recover more than 
 their old animal spirits, from the very force of 
 reaction against the causes that had temporarily 
 kept them down, ^ut the better Eeuben's health 
 became, the more gloomy grew his mind. In 
 vain the doctor tried to induce him to talk, either 
 about little incidents of the neighbourhood, which 
 liis professional experience made so interesting, 
 or about pubhc events, or about himself, his re- 
 covery, his movements, or his friends. Eeuben 
 listened — sometimes with interest, always with 
 patience, but always in silence. 
 
 Of course some theory was sure to spring up 
 under such mental provocation; and the doctor's 
 theory was that the young fellow was in love with
 
 273 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 Bella Maxfield, and that the young lady did not 
 in return care for him. How natural that when 
 the two were thrown together under such exciting 
 circumstances that one, at least, of the pair 
 should be deeply touched by a feeling for the 
 other. The unlucky thing was that the effect 
 was not reciprocal — that is to say, if the young 
 fellow was what he seemed to be, clever, re- 
 spectable, deserving. How natural, too, that one 
 so young as Eeuben should be smitten by the 
 sight of so beautiful a girl, and allow his feelings 
 to get too strong for him, under the circum- 
 stances of the case ; and so tell her, perhaps, 
 what he ought to have concealed, and then find 
 in what a delusion he had been. 
 
 This was the doctor's theory ; and although he 
 said nothing about it for some time, during which 
 he paid daily visits to the sick man's chamber, 
 he thought it a pity for the lad to be there, 
 " eating his heart out " for want of a word of 
 counsel. The doctor had known in his younger 
 days a very sharp disappointment of the same 
 kind ; and although now^ with his buxom wife 
 and his five children, he could laugh at all such 
 reminiscences, he knew well enough that his 
 boyish love-story had been no laughing matter at 
 the time. 
 
 But what should he do with his theorv ?
 
 Reuben was a stranger, and !Mrs. Maxfield might 
 be seriously offended by any hint on the subject. 
 Still, he thought he would tiy at the first oppor- 
 tunity to say something to her ; and one morning, 
 just when he was leaving the house, not having 
 met with its mistress, he found her waiting for 
 him at the porch, obviously desiring to speak 
 with him. He was now, in fact, to have his 
 opportunity. 
 
 *' Well, 'Mr. Rbbson, how do you find him this 
 
 mornmg 
 
 " Better, decidedly better— as regards his body. 
 His pulse is good, appetite middling, but his 
 spirits as bad as ever. In fact, there^s evidently 
 something upon his mind." 
 
 " Indeed ! '' 'said Mrs. Maxfield, but not with 
 the surprise the doctor had anticipated, and 
 which he thought would have been natural. 
 " And when do you think he is likely to be able 
 to go away ? " 
 
 " Well, that is a very difficult question to 
 answer. I might say — if the question were only 
 to get rid of him — he might go in three or fom* 
 days ; I mean there would be then no imputation 
 on me professionally nor on your hospitality, 
 if it were thought necessary so to arrange it. 
 
 But " and then the doctor stopped, looking at 
 
 Mrs. Maxfield, whose eyes turned from his. 
 
 TOi. I. T
 
 274 ONE AGAINST THE WOFvLD. 
 
 She paused for full half a minute, beating her 
 toe on the gravel, as if impatient of her own 
 silence and his ; and then she said, 
 
 " I should like him to be really able to move 
 about and attend to his business without danger 
 of a relapse before ^' 
 
 " Well, I think that particular danger need not 
 be feared/' 
 
 Again the toe beat on the gravel. Whj' 
 didn't the doctor speak out plainly his meaning 
 — " that particular danger '^ ? Was there, then, 
 some other danger that he saw and thought she 
 ought to see ? 
 
 " Come, come, my dear madam, I am a bad 
 one to beat about the bush ; and I think, after 
 we have known each other so long, it scarcely 
 ought to be necessary. I will say, then, that if I 
 myself cared anything about this 3'oung man I 
 should not like him to go off in his present 
 frame of mind." 
 
 " Is he so very miserable ? " 
 
 " I don't think I ever saw in one so young 
 such persistent melancholy — a gloom so un- 
 reheved b}^ natural fits of hope or gaiety. I 
 don't mean to say he is absolutely immov- 
 able. I have made him laugh once or twice ; 
 but it did me so much more harm to see him 
 after it than it could have done him good while
 
 THE doctor's STEANGE CONDUCT. 275 
 
 the mirth lasted, that I hacluH the heai't to try 
 any more." 
 
 '* Can you suggest any cause, or throw any 
 light upon the matter ? " 
 
 " How is that possible ? He has not said one 
 
 word to me, and " you will not — the doctor 
 
 seemed to be thinking, as he stopped and looked 
 at her. 
 
 *' Neither am I prepared to do so," said ^Irs. 
 Maxfield, decisively. '"' We must just do the best 
 we can to get him fairly well, and then, of course, 
 he will depart. As I said before, he was quite a 
 stranger to us." 
 
 " Very well. I wish you good morning," said 
 'Mr. Eobson, a little nettled at his own failure. 
 He didn^t think this treatment exactly neigh- 
 bourly. Here had he for years past been 
 narrating to Mrs. Maxfield, in his quiet, non- 
 committal sort of way, all the gossip of the 
 neighbourhood, to her great personal satisfac- 
 tion ; and yet the first time that she could repay 
 him with interest, and add to his stores for the 
 future, she turns silent and obstinate, and will 
 say nothing. 
 
 Of course this behaviour again modified his 
 theory. It was INIrs. Maxfield now that was the 
 obstacle, not the young lady ; a fact that was 
 strengthened by what he had observed of the
 
 276 ONE AGAINST THE WOELD. 
 
 young lady's countenance and behaviour when 
 he was called in on the outbreak of the fever. 
 It was true that her distress might have 
 been caused by the mere consciousness of the 
 distress that her want of love was inflicting 
 upon him — her and her mother's youthful 
 benefactor ; but the doctor acknowledged to 
 himself, on a calm review of the case, as illus- 
 trated by all the pertinent facts of life he 
 had ever heard of, that young ladies do bear 
 with wonderful fortitude that kind of distress, 
 and even at times snatch from it a sort of 
 " fearful joy,'^ a proud though secret content- 
 ment. 
 
 But what was he to do ? Of course he could 
 not by word or deed act in an unfaithful way to 
 the mother. On the other hand, he really 
 thought it would be best for all parties if he 
 could get Eeuben to speak, and see the hopeless- 
 ness of his desire (if the doctor's theory were 
 correct), and the necessity for manly resignation 
 to get over the business as soon as possible and 
 have done with it. It needed little penetration 
 to see that if Reuben really cherished a hopeless 
 love for Miss Maxfield, the sooner he was out of 
 the house and far away from the neighbourhood 
 the better for him ; so that talking with Eeuben 
 might help to promote the widow^s object of a
 
 speedy departure, and yet benefit the melancholy 
 invalid himself. 
 
 On the very next visit the doctor determined 
 he would try to bring things to a crisis ; so, after 
 feeling the pulse, &c., he began : — 
 
 ** Do you know you are behaving badly to me ? " 
 
 " Badly ! You ! " echoed the astonished 
 Reuben, who rose on his elbow on the sofa where 
 he was reclining, in the sudden excitement of 
 this unexpected attack. 
 
 " Yes. You make me look like an impostor ! " 
 
 *' I ! Really " Here Reuben stopped in 
 
 confusion, while the colour began to come to his 
 cheek. 
 
 " An impostor, I say ! You make me seem as 
 though I didn't know what's the matter with 
 you ; or, at least, if I did, as if I hadn't the skill 
 to cui'e you of your malady.^' 
 
 " I — I — do not understand,'' said Reuben, 
 strangely troubled, and having a kind of con- 
 sciousness there was something dangerous 
 beyond all this odd behaviour. 
 
 " Now, I say, I do know ; and that I have 
 cured you ; and therefore, if you don't behave as 
 a man should who is cured, it is you who must 
 be the impostor." 
 
 Reuben's eyes began to flash with a fierce, 
 red light ; but the doctor s tone, and face, and
 
 278 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 manner were all so full of good liumour, and of 
 a latent sense of fun, that it was impossible to 
 quarrel, with him, and not easy to believe he 
 really meant any kind of personal mikindness. 
 
 " Come, that's right ! I am glad to see you 
 have a bit of life and energy in you, even if it's 
 only to tempt you to pitch into me." 
 
 Eeuben laughed, then turned away uneasily-, 
 wondering in his secret soul what all this was 
 about, and shrinking from explanations that he 
 might have only too much reason to dread. 
 
 " Come, now ; can't you rouse yourself to 
 something like a healthy feeling again ? That's 
 what I want to see. What's the use of making 
 jokes to a deadly -lively fellow like you, that 
 either can't see them at all, or passes them over 
 in superb contempt ; or, worst of all, pretends to 
 laugh very much as one might suppose a spectre 
 would laugh if arrested in one of its midnight 
 wanderings from yonder churchyard, and com- 
 pelled to listen to a good thing." 
 
 This was too much for Eeuben. He did laugh 
 now till he fairly roared again ; but at last his 
 mirth subsided, and he began to set his teeth 
 hard, and to look viciously at the doctor for 
 having broken through the pale of reserve and 
 melancholy in which he took a kind of pleasure 
 in obscuring his life.
 
 THE DOCTOn S STRANGE CONDUCT. 279 
 
 Suddenly the doctor ^clianged his whole man- 
 ner. He threw off all affectation of plavf illness, 
 and said, in his hluntest and most serious 
 manner, — 
 
 " There's something the matter with you that 
 you. conceal ; and I want to ask you whether it's 
 either manly or reasonable to let things go on in 
 this way without a proper effort being made. 
 Tell me what it is, and I promise you, first, 
 absolute secrecy ; and, secondly, my best help 
 in counsel." 
 
 *' Thank you. Sir ; but there's nothing to tell. 
 I'll get away as fast as I can. Til go to- da}' — 
 nay, this hour, if you think me strong enough." 
 
 " Don't be a fool. I understand. You wish 
 to keep your own counsel, however much it may 
 injure you to do so. But there are others con- 
 cerned." 
 
 " Others ? " 
 
 " Yes. You are a stranger here, I understand, 
 accepting the hospitality of a stranger. Once 
 again, I say, don't be a fool I And do keep quiet 
 on the sofa. Keep quiet, will you ? Of course 
 I know you can put on your things and take up 
 your knapsack, and walk — right through the rain 
 — for a mile or two, perhaps even for more, to 
 drop down at last, and be picked up by some good 
 Christian on the roadside. But I don't myself
 
 280 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 see mucli independence in leaving us all that way, 
 
 after " 
 
 " No, no ; and I beg you to understand — all of 
 you — that I am truly grateful/' 
 
 " Very well. Show your gratitude, then, by 
 your good sense. When you do go, go in a sen- 
 sible and Christian -like manner. And suppose, 
 before you go, since you won't tell me what's 
 amiss, what do you say to my telling you ? " 
 
 Reuben's face grew even paler than it now ha- 
 bitually was. Was the doctor about to speak of 
 his past life ? Did he, too, know his patient in 
 his true character — that of a robber ? Had Mrs. 
 Maxfield told him ? Or was it Bella's relations 
 towards him that the doctor was thinking about ? 
 And, if so, of course Mrs. Maxfield had not yet 
 revealed her knowledge of his guilt. 
 
 Tossing between these thoughts and fears, 
 Beuben said nothing in answer to the doctor's 
 query. That gentleman therefore resumed — 
 
 *' Come ; I was a young fellow myself once, 
 and can imderstand your case perfectly. Bella 
 Maxfield— eh ? " 
 
 Still Eeuben was silent, though now he could 
 not help listening in a somewhat different frame 
 of mind. 
 
 *' The young lady is very beautiful, certainly ; 
 and she's as good as she's beautiful — eh ? "
 
 THE doctor's STRA^^GE CONDUCT. 281 
 
 Reuben was still silent. 
 
 " And the mother, as is the way of mothers, is 
 cantankerous, I suppose, and nips the budding 
 hopes — eh ? " 
 
 Eeuben was still silent, but looking stern, as if 
 angry, shocked, and resentful that such liberties 
 should be taken with such names, persons, and 
 ideas. They were sacred to him. 
 
 " Silence, you know, is always consent in such 
 cases." 
 
 " No, doctor " began Eeuben, with a terrible 
 
 cloud on his brow ; but he was stopped, nor was 
 he sorry to be stopped ; for although he did feel 
 really aggrieved by the conversation, his own 
 position in the matter was so complicated, that 
 honest and healthy speech or action were alike 
 paralysed. 
 
 " Stop ! Hear me out, and then talk to your 
 heart's content. Suppose — only suppose, I say — 
 that things are as I have sketched them, does it 
 follow that you are to lie here eating your heart 
 out" — a favourite phrase of the doctor's — "and 
 doing nothing else ? Hang it, man, you can either 
 determine to give her up and tiy to find another 
 girl as good ; or, if that doesn't seem a very 
 hopeful prospect in your present mood, you can 
 determine to nurse a truly heroic resolution — 
 never to worship anybody else ; but then you
 
 2&2 ONE AGAINST THE VrOPXD. 
 
 know you must work, and do j'our duty, as the 
 catechism says, in the station to which it has 
 pleased God to call you, for else you'll only be a 
 milksop instead of a hero ; or, lastly, if neither 
 of these methods will do, can't you say I won't 
 give her up, I'll go away ; but 111 come back 
 again rich enough to remove all objections (if that 
 is the objection, about which I know nothing); 
 ay, and I will win her, spite of everybody, spite 
 of the very devil himself!^' 
 
 Eeuben got up, and, forgetting his weakness, 
 began to walk once or twice across the floor, 
 though he soon sat down again on the sofa, made 
 conscious of his weakness. 
 
 " Now, don't say I advised this, that, or the 
 other. I onl}' say don't i^ine on in this miserable 
 hang-dog fashion, and make everybod}'' else 
 miserable about j'ou." 
 
 "Well, doctor," said Eeuben at last, with a 
 sickly smile on his face, and putting out his 
 hand, which the doctor took warmly and shook, 
 " I will promise you that, and in the spii'it in 
 which you ask it." 
 
 "That's right; that's right. I always had 
 faith in you, only you were getting to be such a 
 deuced long time in justifying one's faith that I 
 thought I'd give you a fillip. That's all." 
 
 " I would speak more frankly," said Eeuben,
 
 THE doctor's strange CONDUCT. '283 
 
 with a slight tinge in his cheek ; " and I wish 
 I could " here he bec^an to falter and hesitate. 
 
 o 
 
 " So you can. Out with it ! 'Twill do you 
 good." 
 
 The deathly paleness of Eeuben's face at that 
 moment arrested the doctor's confident assertions, 
 and showed him that Eeuben's mental ailments 
 were either deeper seated than he had thought, 
 or else that his bodily strength was less than he 
 had calculated on. So, after a pause, while he 
 made Reuben take the medicine-draught that was 
 now due, he said, 
 
 " Well, we have talked quite enough for 
 to-day. We understand each other now. And 
 aU I have to say is, I shall be glad to help you it' 
 I can." 
 
 The two men again shook hands, and then the 
 doctor went away. 
 
 "Ay," thought Reuben to himself; "he's a 
 good fellow ; but even he would be appalled were 
 he to guess what it is I should have to tell were 
 I to begin to speak. He has rightly divined one 
 part of the case. How he would stare if he 
 were informed that that is ahnost a trifle to 
 the other part, of which he knows and suspects 
 nothing ! 
 
 " Well, one thing is clear. It is time to be 
 going away. What a prospect for me ! Why did
 
 284 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 not I finish the business I was about when she 
 stopped me ? 
 
 " Tell all ! Ay, I wish I could. How many 
 times of late has that desire come over me ! 
 Yet, how is it to be done ? I could not tell m}' 
 story to him. I need some motive greater than 
 he can afford me by any amount of kindness for 
 the pain and shame I must endure. Xo ; it is 
 they who ought to know. Yet, even if they 
 would listen to me, could I sit before them and 
 look upon their faces, and watch the changes 
 there as I went on ? Xo ; that were a tortiu'e 
 beyond, I think, the willing endurance of any 
 living man. To fancy one's self saying, in one's 
 secret thoughts, ' Madam, such has been my past 
 life ; — does it not entitle me to your daughter ? 
 Bella, I love you, and I am a thief; can you 
 refuse me ? ' 
 
 " Of course I shall go over the old ground 
 again — fever, fi-enzy, and all the rest of it, if I 
 begin to talk to myself in'this way. Cease, then, 
 cease ! As the doctor says, don't be a fool ! 
 
 " What if I were to write my story and leave it, 
 at my departure, for them to read ? Would it 
 not give me some occupation to help me over 
 these remaining days that I must spend here ? 
 I shall think of the same things, whether I write 
 about them or no ; only that, if I write I may
 
 please iTi3'self by the fancy of some possible good 
 to my future resulting. 
 
 " This is clear. I will not deceive them any 
 more, even if I can do so. I do not know that I 
 could deceive them if I would. But I will 
 not. They know enough to suspect all the rest. 
 Men don't suddenly become robbers and com- 
 panions of robbers ; so that they can easily guess 
 the nature of my past life from what they have 
 known of the recent life. 
 
 *' Is it mere delusion, or do I rightly think 
 that even now Bella does not altogether hate me? 
 She well might hate me. I begin to understand 
 now the sort of outrage upon her I have com- 
 mitted in daring to love her at all — to think of 
 her at all. I can see at last, and personally 
 realise, how the respectable world sees the pro- 
 ceedings, and how she might and must resent it 
 if she be like the rest of the world. 
 
 " God bless her ! — If it was indeed she who 
 was bending over me when I waked, and who 
 spoke so sweetly to me before I could well under- 
 stand what she was saying, and whose voice 
 seemed so much to resemble the voice nf that 
 angel who seemed to descend to me in my dreamy 
 sleep or delirium. 
 
 " If she were to read a faithful record of my 
 life, saw how I became a — how I became what I
 
 286 ONE AGAINST THE V.'ORLD. 
 
 am, and why I Lave so long had a something 
 •within me craving for a different and better life, 
 might she not, by degrees, begin to pit}^, to for- 
 give, and so at last again to love me ? 
 
 "But only if I were myself then worthy of 
 her. I understand that. I could have no other 
 chance with her than that. And could I not 
 work ? Could I not toil, and suffer scorn and 
 poverty, and hunger, if only I were once deter- 
 mined for them ? And I could be determined if 
 only she gave me hope. 
 
 '•' But she will never do that. No, at least she 
 will not do that now. She cannot, she ought 
 not. Have I, then, courage to go on without, 
 merely to hope that some day she will ? I can- 
 not tell. I fear ; but at least I will do this thing 
 which I have so often thought of. I will write 
 my stor}', and judge after it is done how to make 
 it known to them/' 
 
 But there was a humble though serious diffi- 
 culty in Reuben's way — the absence of pen and 
 ink and paper. He shrank from any kind of 
 premature disclosure of what he was about to do. 
 He did not even feel sure he would be able to go 
 through with it, no matter how narrow the limits 
 imposed upon himself. 
 
 Should he offer to go on with some of his 
 former duties — preparation of accounts, Sec. —
 
 THE DOCTOP/S STEANGZ CONDUCT. 287 
 
 suggesting it as a kind of useful recreation during 
 his days of convalescence, and so get the things 
 he wanted about him in a natural way ? No ; 
 he was in no position to remind them of their 
 former confidence. He was no longer their friend 
 or their guest. He must rigidly confine himself 
 in all relations with them to an attitude of com- 
 plete isolation, offering nothing, expecting 
 nothiuf^. Better as it was to sav so to oneself, 
 he must not forget he was a robber, for they 
 assuredly would be always remembering it while 
 he was in the house. 
 
 He began to look around his room to see if 
 there was anything that would do for the paper. 
 It occurred to him that he might ask for pen and 
 ink without exciting the same kind of remark 
 that would necessarily be caused by a request 
 for many sheets of paper. There was an old 
 wardrobe in the room, which he had looked in on 
 the night of his arrival — his fii'st night here — 
 and well he remembered how he had turned away 
 from it in a kind of fright as he saw it was filled 
 with things of greater or less value, as if he had 
 felt instinctively the necessity to shun the 
 temptation of looking any further. 
 
 No danger of that no^v. Eeuben was just con- 
 scious of his improvement in that respect, and, 
 in a sense, grateful for it : and the fact coming
 
 288 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 home to him thus unexpectedlj^ told him how 
 gi'eat a gulf divided his former from his present 
 self. He really felt no longer capable of any 
 kind of pecuniary temptation. The new ideas, 
 new desires, had so filled his whole being with 
 new habits of thought that he, perhaps rightly, 
 felt he might be trusted under circumstances of 
 difficulty to his honesty with untold gold. 
 
 He went to the wardrobe, pushing a chair 
 along before him for the support of his hand, 
 and tried to open it. It was locked ! The mere 
 consciousness that it was so, and that it must 
 have been locked during his illness (in alarm, of 
 course), was like a dagger driven suddenly into 
 Eeuben's heart. When honesty is really grow- 
 ing up out of dishonesty it does so want to be 
 acknowledged ! 
 
 He was in no mood to continue his search just 
 then. 
 
 In the afternoon, when he had dined and when 
 he began to feel a little stronger, he again set out 
 on his search round the room. He found, high 
 up towards the ceiling, a little cupboard which he 
 had not before noticed, or, at least, not with any 
 interest. He got on to the chair to reach it. 
 He could not at at first open it, and he began to 
 fear that this, too, was locked. But, at last, by 
 the aid of his knife, he was able to get hold of
 
 289 
 
 tlie edge of the door and to open it ; and there, 
 among many other old and dust-covered relics of 
 bygone times, he saw several large and decayed- 
 looking parchment account-books. One of these 
 he got out, and looked at its leaves. They were 
 all written over, from beginning to end of the 
 volume. He took another, with the same result. 
 But when he came to the last of the series he 
 found a number of blank pages at the end, as 
 though the deceased Mr. Maxfield had altered 
 his plan of book-keeping, and begun with a new 
 set of books. 
 
 Those blank pages should be his writing paper. 
 The servant would bring him pens and ink, 
 and he would at once begin his self-imposed 
 task. 
 
 An hour later Beuben was accordingly sitting 
 with his little table before him, his writing 
 materials ready, his eyes gazing vacantly (so 
 far as the objects they saw were concerned) out 
 upon the open moors, but with tears gathering 
 as he sat, and thought, and tried to shape his 
 thoughts into words which would not come. He 
 seemed only able to feel, not think, as he strove 
 to begin. But at last the trembling hand — 
 trembling alike with bodily weakness and mental 
 agitation — began to move across the paper : first 
 very slowly, and with many attendant blots and 
 
 VOL. I. V
 
 290 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 erasures, but by-and-by with greater speed and 
 facility, as lie began to forget the art of expres- 
 sion and give way to the flow of natural emotion 
 and memory. And thus Eeuben told his story.
 
 CHAPTER XXYIL 
 
 REUBEN TRIES TO EXPLAIN HOW THE " WAR " 
 BEGAN BETWIXT HIMSELF AND THE WORLD. 
 
 " In attempting to give you some notion of my 
 past life, I know very well there are certain pre- 
 liminaries to be settled. I write this, you will 
 think, in the hope of influencing your judgment 
 and sympathy ; nor do I wish to deny that, if I 
 could hope anything, this would be the one desire 
 of my heart. But that hope, if it exist at all, is 
 too weak to bias my coiu'se now. I ivant to tell 
 the truthf both for my own sake and yours. I 
 want you to believe it is the truth, and that I 
 conceal nothing that you ought to know — if, 
 indeed, you care to know anything more what- 
 ever about me. 
 
 " This is my fear— that you will not believe 
 me. Can I wonder at your disbelief? No. I 
 confess to you that I have lived in the conceit that 
 I was skilful in deception — that it was my faith 
 that to cheat the world so skilfully that it did not 
 
 u 2
 
 292 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 even suspect it was cheated was one of the most 
 useful of arts. Why, then, are you to believe me 
 now? 
 
 "I cannot answer my own question. I can 
 only say, and, with an anguish of which I have 
 never before had experience, that if you do not 
 believe me you will err, and you will do me the 
 greatest possible injustice. 
 
 *' But perhaps you will think that, even if I try 
 to tell truthfully so shameful a story, my own 
 habits and want of principle must have unfitted 
 me for such a task. It may be so : I dare not 
 deny the statement. But, on the other hand, I 
 ask you if no allowance is to be made for great 
 changes in our whole being ? It seems to me 
 that I am no longer the same man that I was in 
 any way. I have lost much — my courage, energy, 
 cheerfulness of spirits ; and sad, indeed, is my 
 case if I have gained nothing in the sense of what 
 is right. 
 
 " But why dwell on these things, except to 
 delay what I have wished to perform? Yes; 
 even now I find myself stopping between every 
 sentence, gazing at what I have written, and 
 hesitating whether I shall not tear the paper to 
 pieces and hurry back to my old career. The 
 temptation is often strong upon me. If I finally 
 give way to it, do not wonder — you ought even
 
 HOW THE "war" began. 293 
 
 to pity me. Meantime, I must at least act on 
 the assumption I have taken up — that I have 
 quitted for ever the world of knavery, and stand 
 like a mendicant outside the door of honest 
 respectability, knocking feebly, and asking with- 
 out hope of success for admittance and succour. 
 This, then, is my story : — 
 
 " In one of the filthy lanes in the neighbour- 
 hood of St. Giles's, many years ago, my parents 
 rented a cellar, at the mouth of which, spread 
 along the pavement, was an assortment of the 
 most heterogeneous articles that can well be 
 imagined. Old boots and shoes, saucepans, 
 workmen's tools, pocket-handkerchiefs, broken 
 iron, and dingy, coloured prints in maple frames, 
 some grossly indecent, some of the most exalted 
 religious character — a bargain picked up at a 
 sale — were our staple commodities. My earliest 
 recollections of my parents are of a short, thin 
 man, with a patch over his left eye, whose hoarse, 
 surly voice I never heard without an inward 
 shrinking; and of a whitefaced, stooping woman, 
 whose gentle tones still linger in my memory in 
 startling contrast. About eleven o'clock every 
 morning my father would get up and go abroad, 
 seldom returning until midnight, frequently an 
 hour or two later; when, peeping cautiously
 
 294 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 above the clothes from my little bed in the 
 corner, I used to see him come rolling down the 
 steps, growling some unintelligible but sufficiently 
 understood denunciations. The tears of my 
 mother in reply to some more than usually harsh 
 expression particularly annoyed him; and not 
 unfrequently his hints that she should give over 
 
 that ' d snivelling ' reached her in the shape 
 
 of the first article he could lay hold of to hurl at 
 her head. But if he had experienced a run of 
 ill-luck at the cards, quarrelled with a comrade, 
 or been balked of his object in his nocturnal 
 adventures, he was sure to knock my mother 
 down on some provocation or other, real or 
 fancied, before he could sit to his supper in peace 
 or enjoy it with any relish. And, to do him 
 justice, when these little enjoyments had been 
 obtained, he would not unfrequently, after supper, 
 be gracious enough to give my mother a kiss, and 
 seat her on his knee whilst he smoked his pipe. 
 And woe to her if she were not instantly and duly 
 grateful for these condescensions ! 
 
 '^Whilst very young I was sent to a school 
 kept by an old woman several streets off; and 
 well I remember the care with which my mother 
 kept me by her side in passing to and fro ; how 
 fiercely she kept off other children from speaking 
 to me; and how frightened she always was of
 
 HOW THE "war" began. 295 
 
 my getting any kind of childish acquaintances 
 among the people about us. When I was quite 
 old enough to go alone to school, still she went 
 with me ; or, if she could not, she sent an old 
 man who used to run errands for her, in return 
 for a bit of bread now and then. My poor 
 mother ! I knew not then what it meant. I know 
 only too well now. She wanted to keep me from 
 the life into which I subsequently fell. 
 
 *' The first great blow to her in this hope was 
 the conduct of my father. Happening one day to 
 want the very fourpence which my mother had 
 given me, wrapped up in paper, for my week's 
 schooling, he swore I should give up going to 
 school. What was I to go for ? Did I want to 
 be a better schoUard than he was ? And so, 
 with a few oaths from him and some tears from 
 her, it was settled there was to be no more 
 school. 
 
 ''I remember crying in the midst of my joy; 
 for I was fond of school and of my mistress ; but, 
 on the other hand, I had a strange notion of the 
 new liberty I should get by being freed from 
 school restraint. From that time my daily occu- 
 pation was to look after our stock in trade on the 
 pavement, whilst my mother was busied below ; 
 but this I managed to vary whenever I could by a 
 play with the other ragged and filthy boys of the
 
 296 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 neighbourhood, merging not unfrequently into a 
 fight, and this again ending generally in my 
 being unexpectedly snatched up by my mother, 
 and ingloriously borne off amid the shouts of my 
 comrades. 
 
 " Of our customers little need be said. They 
 were generally the poorest and most squalid of 
 the very poor and very squalid inhabitants of the 
 parts around, who used to haggle for half an 
 hour with my mother for the merest trifle, the 
 manoeuvres on both sides almost invariably 
 coming to the same conclusion — the party seek- 
 ing to purchase walking away in the hope that 
 my mother would then yield and call after him, 
 whilst she, apparently quite decided, would bustle 
 about among the things, all the while, however, 
 skilfully measuring with her eye the distance of 
 the retreating party, so as to let him go just so 
 far as to be convinced of her obstinacy, and, if 
 he must have the article, return, but not so far 
 but that when that hope failed she might send 
 me to catch him, bellowing lustily all the way, 
 * Mother says you may have it ! ' 
 
 '* But the parties to whom we were customers 
 were a peculiar race. They were of divers ages, 
 sexes, and appearance, but had a marvellously 
 similar mode of doing business. They seemed to 
 prefer twilight; were apparently of a retired,
 
 HOW THE "war" began. 297 
 
 unsocial disposition, avoiding our lane whenever 
 strangers were bustling about; and, when tliey 
 did come, appeared merely looking for something 
 they wanted to purchase, until having reached 
 our cellar they would dive down suddenly into its 
 recesses ; and if I happened to be there my mother 
 always sent me up to the pavement — a direc- 
 tion I obeyed with glee, as long experience 
 had taught me I might more safely indulge my 
 wandering impulses at such times than at any 
 other. 
 
 " Though pursuing her business, as I judge, 
 with much skill, my mother seems to have had 
 no such ambition for me. To this circumstance 
 it may be attributed that my ideas of right and 
 wrong were not of a confused but simply of a 
 negative character. They were not long to re- 
 main so. On an occasion when my mother was 
 engaged with one of these mysterious personages 
 in the cellar, I joined a group of boys standing 
 close by, and found one of them, with an air of 
 furtive exultation and dignity that I still distinctly 
 remember, exhibiting a sixpence as his own — a 
 real silver sixpence ! To all our eager inquiries 
 his only answer was to button his sixpence safely 
 up in his pocket and run away, calling me, whose 
 unsophisticated admiration had especially pleased 
 him, to follow. I did so. He stopped at a con-
 
 298 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 fectioner's, and regaled liimself and me with a 
 variety of delicacies until the money was spent. 
 What a mine of wealth I thought he must be 
 master of ! For some time the secret was hidden ; 
 but, watching his opportunity, the same boy called 
 me aside one afternoon, and said, 'If I wasn't 
 afraid, lie'd show me how to get money whenever 
 I wanted it.'* I trembled, partly with expectation, 
 partly perhaps that I was afraid. He then pointed 
 out some article in my mother's store (one not 
 likely to be missed) and told me to go and take 
 it ; only to be sure that no one saw me. Now, 
 though I certainly had not the remotest glimpse 
 of right or wrong in the matter, I had an instinc- 
 tive perception, that was not to be mistaken, that 
 my mother, and still more my father, would treat 
 me, if discovered, in a way to make those abstract 
 points of little importance. I hesitated. He 
 called me a coward ! — and all the boys did so ; 
 and, at last, with an air of the supremest con- 
 tempt, offered to do it for me. This my spirit 
 could not brook. The danger began to assume 
 an heroic aspect. In one instant the stolen thing 
 was pressed against my panting breast ; and in 
 the next we were running — I know not whither — 
 until we stopped at a shop, at some distance, in a 
 part unknown to me, and went in. All around 
 were articles of a similar kind to those my mother
 
 HOW THE "war" BEGAX. 299 
 
 dealt in, but in greater profusion, and interspersed 
 with some of a more valuable kind. An old man, 
 whose smiles did my heart good at the time to 
 think of, and who had two projecting yellow 
 teeth, and a polished bald head, addressed us as 
 his * poppets,' and taking the article we had 
 brought, gave us twopence. I happened to know 
 that it had cost my mother sixpence. AVe spent 
 the money, and returned home. Behold me, from 
 that time (why should I now mince the word, 
 however bitter) a Thief ! 
 
 " My education progressed rapidly. Scarce a 
 day passed but something or other was missed by 
 my mother, who, gi'eatly troubled, and angry, at- 
 tributed all to dishonest passers-by and to my 
 carelessness. It is the old story : success made 
 me imprudent — I was caught. My mother beat 
 me. Still, to my surprise, she seemed so much 
 more grieved and depressed than angry, that I 
 know not what folly (as my companions would 
 have esteemed it) I might not have been guilty 
 of, but that my father just then returned home. 
 Before she could summon up calmness enough 
 to deceive him as to what was going on, the truth 
 was out. That day was an epoch in my life. He 
 did not merely beat me fiercely and savagely, he 
 well nigh killed me. Long after I had fallen on 
 the ground he kicked my helpless body; and
 
 800 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 when my mother, half frantic, endeavoured to 
 restrain him, felled her also to the floor hy a 
 tremendous blow. From the blood that bathed 
 me, a red mist seemed to ascend and envelop my 
 whole spirit. I cursed, and had I had strength, 
 could have killed him. Boy as I was, I knew 
 that he had treated me thus, not because of the 
 theft, but because the theft had been perpetrated 
 upon him. 
 
 " For months I lay ill ; and hour by hour a 
 silent and appalling hatred grew up in my breast, 
 concentrating with every fresh outrage on my 
 mother, against him who, from that terrible day, 
 never heard from my lips the name — Father ! 
 There were times when I would have pronounced 
 it ; but I felt as though the word would suffocate 
 me in the attempt, and I remained silent. In 
 other respects this was a no less eventful day : 
 young as I was I became a man thenceforward. 
 
 " My mother treated me with unwearied devo- 
 tion; and my feelings towards her would now 
 certainly have made me what she wished — an 
 honest and respectable man. Nay, already I had 
 visions of a time when I should be able to take 
 her away from the cellar to a home of my own, 
 where I would maintain her by the labour of my 
 hands ; when, alas ! my mother died. How^ I 
 must now tell you.
 
 HOW THE "war" began. 301 
 
 " One evening, after I was tolerably recovered 
 and able to move about, my father, contrary to 
 his usual custom, returned about seven o'clock, 
 and demanded some money. 
 
 " ' I have none,' was the quiet reply. 
 
 " With a brutal oath, and a still more brutal 
 threat, which made my young blood boil, he re- 
 peated his demand, remarking that he knew she 
 had a shilling. 
 
 " ' I have laid it out in medicine for Eeuben ; 
 and this, indeed,' said she, placing twopence on 
 the table before him, 'is all I have left to buy us a 
 bit of supper. But we can manage without it, I 
 daresay.' He stood, and stared in silence, first 
 at her and then at me ; his face and brow grew 
 livid with rage ; and catching up a knife that was 
 on the table beside him, threw it at me. My 
 mother, on seeing this movement, shrieked, and 
 darted forwards to save me. The knife struck 
 her temple, and she fell on the floor streaming 
 with blood. Horrible as the scene was, and is, 
 I have sometimes been unable to repress a sort 
 of bitter smile at the spectacle of my poor, little, 
 weak, emaciated self, leaping forward, seizing the 
 murderer with my tiny hands, whilst my shrill 
 voice made the neighbourhood ring again with 
 the cry of ' Murder ! murder ! murder ! ' The 
 cellar was soon filled with the neighbours. As
 
 302 ONE AGAINST THE WOELD. 
 
 for him, who had at last consummated his bruta- 
 lity, who saw the gallows preparing for him in the 
 distance, he stood, or rather leant helplessly against 
 the table; some dirty playing-cards falling from 
 his waistcoat pocket, and which were afterwards 
 found on the floor bedabbled with my mother s 
 blood. He took no notice of me, or of my violence. 
 An ashy paleness overspread his face ; his knees 
 tottered, and his eyes glared now on the neigh- 
 bours, now on the cellar mouth, as though some 
 thought of escape crossed his mind. In a word, 
 the dastard soul of the bully came forth in all its 
 nakedness. 
 
 " After the first few moments I threw myself 
 beside my mother on the floor, where she lay 
 senseless, and called to her in the most agonising 
 tones, ' Mother ! mother ! ' All that I had ever 
 done to grieve her rushed at once to my memory, 
 and — I knew not what I said in words, but my 
 heart was bursting with a thousand promises of 
 repentance. Oh, if she would but live! She 
 recovered from her swoon; but the wound was 
 mortal. A short time before her death she de- 
 sired the neighbours (whose kindness to her 
 forms one of the strangest, most grotesque, 
 and most beautiful revelations life has made 
 me) to withdraw to a distant corner of the 
 cellar; then, pressing me to her breast with
 
 war" began. 303 
 
 endless tears and kisses, she asked me if I 
 would do what she told me when she was dead 
 and buried. 
 
 " * Oh ! yes — mother — I will — I will,' I cried 
 as soon as my sobbings would let me. 
 
 "/ Barrett is not your father ! ' Her lips con- 
 tinued moving, but not a word more could I 
 catch. My soul was on fire. One moment re- 
 lieved from the idea that Barrett was my parent, 
 my heart seemed to let loose upon him without 
 remorse my pent-up hatred, and exulted in his 
 probable fate. Then, the wings of my fancy 
 expanding, I flew over the whole range of possi- 
 bilities as to what and who my father could be. 
 Then, forgetting all but my mother, I wept 
 bitterly over her upon the bed. When she spoke 
 again her voice was stronger. 
 
 " * I'm afraid I can't tell you all I should, but 
 I'll try. I oughtn't to have waited till now. But 
 I was frightened of him, and I was frightened as to 
 how you might take it. Give me some water, Rube.' 
 
 " I did so. 
 
 " * And wet this cloth in the vinegar. Oh, 
 please God to give me a little strength, for I've a 
 good deal to say ! ' 
 
 " ' Keep quiet, mother, and speak softly. I shall 
 hear you. I'll keep my ears close to your lips.' 
 
 " ' Kiss me, Rube. Oh ! my darling, I didn't
 
 304: ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 think to die like this — I who was a lady born and 
 bred.' 
 
 " ' A lady, mother ? ' 
 
 " * Ay, Kube, but I wasn't what would have been 
 much better for me — I wasn't a good woman. 
 Before I was seventeen I was led astray by one 
 who pretended to marry me in Scotland, when he 
 thought I had money, and then, when he found 
 that I hadn't, denied that we had ever been 
 married at all. He left me, and then I went 
 wrong. Oh Kube ! boy, it's dreadful to talk to 
 you about these things, but I must, for I've no- 
 body else to talk to, and it concerns you much.' 
 
 *' * Oh mother ! don't mind me ; say what you 
 like, but do tell me all I ought to know.' 
 
 " * Well, dear — But I am growing very faint. 
 Where was I ? Oh ! I know. Yes, Eube, from 
 being an injured I became a guilty woman, and I 
 grew worse and worse, and at last I was punished. 
 He grew tired of my occasional visits to him (for 
 I followed him to London and found him out), 
 and of my appeals for help as I sank deeper and 
 deeper in degradation and poverty, so at last he 
 sold me to this man — my husband.' 
 
 " ' Sold you ! ' 
 
 " * Ay, Rube — Heaven help thee — thou canst 
 not understand yet all the wickedness of the 
 world. He sold me — his own wife, if I had had
 
 HOW THE "war" began. 305 
 
 my rights ; but you may judge of the sort of sale 
 it was when you hear that it was the man who 
 bought me who received the money — a hundred 
 pounds. That was what your father gave to get 
 rid of me — he for whom I had sacrificed my all. 
 That's what he gave Barrett to marry me, and to 
 take care of you, and relieve him from us both 
 for ever. I did not refuse. I had become too 
 miserable — had sunk too low. Any kind of 
 acknowledged marriage, any kind of real home, 
 seemed to me just then better than my state. I 
 <jonsented, and by that very act shut myself out 
 for ever from the power of asserting my first 
 marriage. I ought to have taken better care of 
 you ; but I had become a poor spiritless, broken- 
 down creature, and I had no proof; so I con- 
 sented to marry Barrett, who hated you ever 
 after.' 
 
 *' Here she fell back in a deadly swoon, and in 
 my anguish and alarm I thought she was dead. 
 But after a long delay she again spake. 
 
 " * Go to your father, when — say Fanny Const 
 forgives him — bless you — darling — bless " 
 
 " ' His name ? ' I shrieked out. 
 
 *' * Polwarth — law-stud — ' She continued 
 murmuring, but I could not catch distinctly 
 another word, for she fainted away ; and, alarmed 
 I called the women, who endeavoured to restore
 
 306, ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 her. I had heard no residence, then, nor did I 
 clearly understand my father^s occupation. Half 
 wild at the thought of being left thus ignorant, I 
 wished— enough : she revived but for a moment. 
 There was a sudden grasp of my hand, so tight 
 that I should have cried out but that I was re- 
 strained by a something that seemed to steal over 
 my mother's face, and which strangely hushed 
 me; then a long-drawn sighing sound — oh, so 
 full of relief — and she was dead !
 
 CHAPTEH XXVIII. 
 
 Reuben's story ixtereupted. 
 
 " I MUST pass over the days immediately fol- 
 lowing my mother's death. They were days of 
 such acute misery to me that even now the recol- 
 lection of them is enough to make every other 
 trouble seem, for the moment, light, and to 
 dissipate in an instant every thought of joy. I 
 had not a friend or a relative in the world except 
 my father, and him I knew not where to find. 
 And if I did find him I was already^but too well 
 aware that he would, in all probability, disown 
 me and diive me back to my own life and associ- 
 ates with scorn. But it was the loss of my mother 
 that I most felt. Although I had always loved her, 
 I did not know till now the depth and fervency 
 of my love, or of what priceless value to me was 
 her love and sheltering care. I could not then 
 think of the wrong done me by her yielding to a 
 second marriage ; I could think only of her ten- 
 derness of heart, of her daily anguish with such
 
 308 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 a brutal husband, of ber constant hope that I 
 should yet turn out an honest man. 
 
 " She was buried very soon, and well I remem- 
 ber walking the streets hour after hour, almost 
 blinded by my tears, heeding no one, and scarcely 
 heeded by any of the people around, till I reached 
 the dark arches of the Adelphi, where I threw 
 myself down and sobbed I know not how long- 
 Every thought I had in my mind helped to drive 
 me back to her — made me see her in some more 
 and more loving light — till, at times, I grew 
 almost frenzied with my grief, and felt as if my 
 heart would suddenly burst with the violence of 
 my emotion. 
 
 " The few things in the cellar were sold by the 
 neighbours to pay the expense of the funeral and 
 some little debts, and, finally, I found myself 
 without even that home, and with the sum of ten 
 and sixpence in my pockets wherewith to begin 
 the world. 
 
 " But, before I could begin to think of how I 
 was to live, all my time and thoughts were en- 
 grossed by the prosecution of Barrett. He was 
 tried, and convicted (chiefly on my evidence) and 
 sentenced to transportation for life, having a 
 narrow escape of the scaffold. He sent for me to 
 the prison. I knew not what he wanted — 
 probably to secure the property left in the cellar ;
 
 REUBEN S STORY INTERRUPTED. 309 
 
 but I returned a passionate answer, calling him 
 * Murderer ! ^ and he made no further attempt to 
 see me. He was transported, and from that time 
 I have heard nothing of him ; nor do I know 
 whether he is dead or alive." 
 
 We must here interrupt for a moment Reuben's 
 narrative. "While he was engaged, as we have 
 seen, in showing how he became a thief, while at 
 the same time endeavouring to fortify all his good 
 resolutions to remain a thief no longer, but 
 change the war against society into a war against 
 himself — i.e., against his own habits and crimes 
 — there was to be offered to him a new temptation 
 that would possibly make all his resolves of little 
 value, and send him back with increased zest to 
 the indulgence of a criminal career. 
 
 It was one fine afternoon in May when Reuben 
 finished the first portion of his story, showing how 
 he was left alone in* the world by the death of his 
 mother. He put down his pen and began to 
 pace to and fro the room restlessly, while there 
 was a soft moisture in his eye as the recollections 
 of his poor, weak, erring, but loving mother came 
 back. In one of these pacings he happened to 
 stop and look out of the window, when he saw 
 a fashionably- dressed man coming up towards the 
 house, and looking apparently about him with
 
 ylO ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 great interest as he did so. Reuben was moving 
 to draw back, not caring to attract attention, 
 when he saw this man wave his hand in a familiar 
 way towards him — Reuben. 
 
 " He knows me ! Who is it ? " Reuben rapidly- 
 questioned himself, but for a few moments could 
 not get any satisfactory answer. But at last he 
 recognised the man, and his face seemed greatly 
 to change as he did so. 
 
 "Swell Jack, by all that's unlucky! What 
 can bring him here?" Reuben hurried to the 
 door, half thinking he would venture down and 
 intercept him, and so get rid of him before he 
 should get into conversation with Mrs. Maxfield 
 or Bella ; but, as he listened at the stairs-head, 
 he heard the visitor say, in a loud voice, 
 
 " Good-morning, Madam ! good-morning, Miss ! 
 Fine day. Charming walk across the country 
 from the railway station, though rather long. 
 You have a young friend of mine staying with 
 you, I believe ? I saw him just now at the 
 window as I came up." 
 
 Reuben could not hear what answer was given ; 
 but presently there were heavy footsteps on the 
 stairs, preceded by the lighter ones of the servant, 
 and then, a few seconds later, Swell Jack was 
 introduced into the room. 
 
 He was some years older than Reuben, and
 
 Reuben's story interrupted. 311 
 
 looked much worn by dissipation. His face was 
 good-humoured enough, and had a kind of reck- 
 less expression that bespoke the effects of his 
 hazardous calling. " Swell Jack/' or " Jack the 
 Swell," for he was called by both names, had 
 been often a companion of Eeuben in his walks 
 or visits to public places of recreation ; though, 
 on account of Nobby Bob's jealousy of any inter- 
 ference with his pal, no joint business operations 
 had ever taken place between the two. 
 
 As soon as the servant had gone he began, in 
 a somewhat lower tone, to speak to Keuben : — 
 
 " Ah ! my dear boy, so I've found you at last. 
 Heard you were ill — came off directly to see what 
 was the matter and offer you my help." 
 
 Reuben could not, of course, help taking the? 
 extended hand, though it was done with some 
 reluctance, a fact that did not escape the visitor''s 
 notice. Before saying anything in comment, 
 he helped himself to a chair, which he placed by 
 the window, opened it, then sat down on the 
 chair, leaned back, and put his legs out on the 
 window-sill. 
 
 " Fine prospect ! Deuced fine prospect, though 
 monotonous, I imagine, after a few weeks — eh ? 
 And the stairs, so long and narrow, in getting up 
 to it made me think of the everlasting staircase."* 
 
 • The treadmilL
 
 S12 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 " Jack !" said Reuben, anxiouslv; " 3'on might 
 be overheard. You used to make it your pride to 
 show you could talk like a gentleman when you 
 pleased." 
 
 " All right ! " said Swell Jack, laughing ; " take 
 a cigar ? " 
 
 Reuben took one in silence and sat down on 
 his couch, wondering in his heart what was to 
 come of all this. 
 
 " So Rube, my boy, you're not glad to see me, 
 after coming two hundred and odd miles to hunt 
 you up?" 
 
 •'* I didn't say so," observed Reuben ; " but 
 suppose you tell me your business, and then I 
 can better judge, you know, of your dues." 
 
 " Quite right ! Quite right ! Well, here goes. 
 I say, Rube, that's a fine girl I met at the door. 
 Now, hang it, old fellow, don't let your face 
 darken in that sudden way. Well, then, be quiet 
 and listen. I wasn't one of the party, you know, 
 that pitched into you in such a blackguard fashion 
 that night of your visit to Billy Marks. You 
 know that, I suppose ? " 
 
 " I don't know it, but I take your word for the 
 fact. I didn't see you there, certainly." 
 
 " Well, when I heard all about the row, I had, 
 you see, my own notions about the business. 
 Nobby Bob was dead, and you had killed him.
 
 Reuben's story interrupted. 313 
 
 No wonder. And great luck to you to get rid of 
 your old man of the mountain. I wonder how 
 you bore him so long. My shoulder-bone often 
 ached in sympathy with yours when I saw how 
 he put upon you. So you see I understood un- 
 commonly well why you wanted to get rid of him. 
 But then the story was that you were leaving us 
 all, and to turn good ! I laughed above a bit at 
 that. Sly rogue, says I, Master Gent Eube ! 
 Begins to find his value, I suppose. Wants no 
 pal. "Wants to be supposed to belong to quite a 
 different cut henceforward. Sees, no doubt, how 
 to go into things of a much more profitable kind, 
 and on a very much grander scale. All right, 
 thinks I. But, even then, he must need his 
 supports. The boldest captain must still have 
 his lieutenant. And so, you see, I came to the 
 conclusion that I alone understood you. And 
 now here I am to offer my services. If you are 
 going to move a step up in the world, and push 
 along the war gloriously, Tm your man ; up to 
 everything, and not above acknowledging my 
 superior. So go ahead, and Til follow you. Eh ? '^ 
 " My dear Jack," said Reuben, after a pause, 
 "I'm sorry to have led you into so great a delu- 
 sion. Absurd as it may sound to you, I really 
 mean to try to get my living henceforward as an 
 honest man.'^
 
 314 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 " Whew ! " whistled Swell Jack, after a pro- 
 longed examination of Eeuben's face to see if he 
 were serious. " Nonsense ! You don't mean 
 it?" 
 
 " Upon my soul, I do ; and I must beg you, 
 once for all, not to do me an evil turn and throw 
 difficulties in my path. It isn*t an easy one as 
 it is." 
 
 "I should think not, indeed. Well, I am 
 amazed. Fairly taken in and done for ! Utterly 
 flabbergasted ! Gent Kube, of all the fellows in 
 the world, to turn milksop ! " 
 
 *' Well, Jack, what do you mean to do in the 
 matter ? " 
 
 "FU tell you what I dont mean to do. 1 
 don't mean to come over you a second edition of 
 Nobby Bob. Take your davit of that. If you 
 
 like to go to the devil — I mean if you like ^' 
 
 Here Swell Jack's logic seemed at fault, and he 
 stopped. 
 
 *' Not to go to the devil ? " interposed Eeuben, 
 with a faint smile. 
 
 " Well, I'm not going to meddle, though you 
 have cost me a first-class ticket down and up, 
 and no business doing by the way." 
 
 " Thank you for that assurance.-" 
 
 "But come — explain a bit. W^hat are you 
 going to be after ? "
 
 Reuben's story interrupted. 815 
 
 *' Haven^t the least notion yet." 
 
 "Get help here?" 
 
 " No ; they have found me out/' 
 
 " Whew !^^ again whistled SweU Jack; and as 
 he looked on Eeuben's face and remembered the 
 look (black as midnight) that had been pre- 
 viously called forth by the allusion to the beauty 
 of the young lady, he began to have some dim 
 idea of Reuben's position and mental state. 
 Evidently his sympathies were touched, for from 
 that time the mocking tone dropped out of his 
 voice, as he went on with his questions : — 
 
 " Have you any notion of the sort of hangdog 
 life a fellow must be prepared for who tries your 
 game?'' 
 
 " I'm afraid I have," said Eeuben, sadly. 
 
 " Then why the deuce do you make yourself 
 such a fool ? However, I can guess. But do 
 you believe that you can ever so whitewash your- 
 self and your prospects as to be able to marry a 
 girl Hke this ? " 
 
 " No." And the voice, in spite of the con- 
 straint exercised over it, grew stiU more melan- 
 choly. 
 
 " Very weU. Now, then, I begin to see my 
 way. You give all this up. Go back with me. 
 I'll lend you whatever cash you need till we shape 
 out some good thing. I've got a slap-up lodging.
 
 316 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 We'll come out like two blue -blood aristocrats. 
 We're both, I take it, rather handsome ; at least, 
 the women say you are ; and if I'm not, why I 
 feel as if I were, and that does just as well, even 
 among the women. Come, old fellow ! this is all 
 nonsense. You've got a sort of evil eye upon 
 you here, I suppose. Let's get away, and 
 it'll all come right. Why, there's that blue- 
 eyed beauty that you so much admired one night 
 at the Opera, and who disappeared so unaccount- 
 ably when we waited for her outside after the 
 performance. I have met with her since. By 
 the Lord, she is a lovely creature ! Looks better 
 by day than at night. I managed to get into 
 talk with her, but found she only listened in order 
 to drop a sly question about you. She lives in 
 slap-up style — St. John's-wood — elegant villa — 
 livery servant — conservatory all ablaze with 
 flowers, and all that sort of thing. I asked her 
 if I might tell you of her question. She laughed, 
 showing all her pearly teeth, as she said with 
 something that looked like a blush, ' Please 
 yourself,' and then she got into a pony-phaeton, 
 — two beautiful greys — and drove off, the servant 
 touching his hat the while." 
 
 Did Keuben hesitate, say for a single minute, 
 as he listened ? We will not undertake to answer 
 in the negative. With his habits of life, it was a
 
 317 
 
 trying alternative that now offered ; hard work, 
 which must be disgusting at first, poverty, 
 perhaps hunger, certainly scorn and degrada- 
 tion ; and aU to be borne in the mere hope of 
 some haven at last ; after, it might be, five, ten, 
 or twenty years of bitter, ceaseless struggle. 
 This was the prospect on one side; while on the 
 other there were his friendly companions ready 
 to help ; immediate luxury ; and, most tempting 
 of all, the smiles of a beautiful and obviously 
 not too scrupulous woman, whom he had gi'eatly 
 admired. All these things, accompanied, cer- 
 tainly, by dangers, but dangers he had grown 
 accustomed to make light of; and followed by the 
 odium which society attaches to the idea of a 
 thief, but then he had already learned habitually 
 how to shut out from his thoughts aU care for the 
 opinions of society, and to be content with the 
 very different opinion of his own circle. 
 
 Swell Jack knew his advantage when he saw 
 Reuben pause for a few minutes, as if iiTesolute, 
 so he went on, 
 
 "How's the arm?" 
 
 " Nearly weU." 
 
 " Can you do without the sling ? " 
 
 Eeuben removed the sling, and bent his arm 
 two or three times as if in exclusive answer to 
 the remark ; but he seemed abstracted and to be
 
 318 ONE AGAINST THE WORLD. 
 
 thinking of other matters — probably turning 
 over all that Swell Jack had been saying to him. 
 
 " And you can travel ? " 
 
 " Yes ; the matter is easy enough so far as my 
 bodily state is concerned." 
 
 " And what have you been writing ?" 
 
 " My story before I went away." 
 
 " Then you were going ? " 
 
 " Yes/' 
 
 " That's right. Come along. Stop the story 
 till some other time. I shall hunt up your 
 things." 
 
 " No — no, don't do that." 
 
 "But I shall. You've nothing to stay for 
 here, only to get insulted. By midnight Fll 
 take you to the arms of that beautiful girl, and 
 by to-morrow you'll have forgotten all about this 
 nonsense, and thanked me for bringing you back 
 to common-sense." 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
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