1. CRADLED IN A STORM Wy SEA S ..... BY THEODORE A. SHARP ZNA ........ RA. A CUSHING'S MANUAL. RULES of PROCEEDING and DEBATE BY LUTHER S. CUSHING. DELIBERATIVE ASSEMBLIES. A Complete Guide for Instruction and Reference in all Matters pertaining to the Management of Public Meetings according to Parliamentary Usages. Addition of Propositions. Adjournment. Amendment. Apology. Assembly, Deliberative. Assembling. Blanks, filling of. Chairman, preliminary elec- Committees. [tion of. Committee of the Whole. Commitment. The contents embrace the following subjects: | Question. Quorum. 20 Reading of Papers. Reception. Recommitment Reconsideratio Recording Officer. Recurrence of lusiness. Reports of Committees. Reprimand. Resolution. Returns. Communications, Consent of the assembly. Contested Elections. Credentials. CONTAINING Debate. Decorum, Breaches of Disorderly Conduct. Disorderly Words. Division. Elections and Returns. Expulsion. OF Floor. Forms of Proceeding. Incidental Questions. Introduction of Business. Journal. Judgment of an aggregate Lie on the Table. [body. REVISED BY FRANCES P. SULLIVAN, List of members. Main Question. Majority. Members. Membership. Motion. Naming a memb Officers. Order of a deliberative assem- Order of business. [bly. Order, rules 01. Order, call to. Orders of the Day. Organization. Papers and Documents. Parliamentary Law. Parliamentary Rules. Petitions. Postponement. Power of assembly to eject [strangers. Preamble. Precedence. President. Presiding Officer. Previous Question. Privileged Questions. Proceedings, how set in mo- Punishment. [tion. Quarrel between members. Roll. Rules. Secondary Question.. Seconding of motions. Secretary. Separation of propositions. Speaking. Speaking member. Speech, reading of, by mem- Subsidiary Questions. [ber. Suspension of a rule. Transposition of proposition. Vice-President. Voting. Will of assembly Withdrawal of Motion. Yeas and Nays. In addition to the above this volume contains THE CONSTITUTION OF THE UNITED STATES AND THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. 208 Pages. Bound in paper, 25 cents; bound in cloth, gilt back, 50 cents. Sent by mail on receipt of price. One- and two-cent stamps taken. Address M. J. IVERS & CO., 86 Nassau Street, New York, N. Y. AMERICAN SERIES. CRADLED IN A STORM. BY THEODORE A. SHARP. A Dam LIBRARY NEW YORK: M. J. IVERS & CO., PUBLISHEZ 86 NASSAU STREET. 812 Sh23 Amen Ab. MAY 22 '42 OC A STORY OF GAUNCHESTER-HAUGH HOW IT GOT INTO PRINT "WELL, of all the extraordinary tales I ever heard, com- mend me to that," I said, as my friend concluded what he had been telling me, and what he had promised to tell me some time before, but had been prevented. "There you are, then-put it on paper; you are welcome to it," said he. "But, my dear fellow, why don't you? It would cer- tainly be worth your while "" "C No, no; I'm no hand with the pen. You are an author; you use it; I am free to give you permission ; and if it turns up trumps, so much the better." Well, thank you, then I will. I shall tell it as nearly as possible as I have heard it from you." now (" << At any rate, you can write with the courage of con- viction-the conviction of truth." : Yes, I felt that I knew he was not a man to exag- gerate, and that he had his facts from the best authorities, the central figures themselves. Consequently, this strange story is submitted to the reading Public with a warranty which may possibly give it additional interest. 1005331 CHAPTER I. CONTENTS PROLOGUE IN THE STILLY NIGHT II. THE WATCHDOGS AND THEIR PREY III. IN DREAD OF MADNESS IV. "UNLICENSED TO ETERNITY! V. A NAMELESS GRAVE VI. DISMISSED WITH IGNOMINY (( FORBIDDEN SWEETS THE STORY AS TOLD BY MATTIE REITH I. II. MY HIGHLAND LADDIE III. HOW I WAS GREETED ON MY RETURN FROM SCHOOL IV. A HIDDEN TERROR V. A DOUBTFUL EXPLANATION. VI. HOW I RESORT TO STRATAGEM TO RELIEVE MY MIND THE MORNING MAIL VII. VIII. HOW OUR MYSTERIOUS VISITOR RETURNS, AND WHAT I LEARN FROM HIM "" 3 • IX. THE LOTUS POOL X, OUTSIDE THE ENEMY'S CASTLE • • PAGN 1 6 12 20 26 35 29 6 62 75 85 95 102 10 117 127 138 CONTENTS XVI. XVII. CHAPTER XI. HOW LOVE CREEPS IN THROUGH THE PORTCULLIS XII. THE WRITING ON THE PANEL XIII. THE SECRET OF THE TOMB. XIV. HOW THE GENERAL INSULTS TIE PARSON AT MY EXPENSE HOW I THROW DOWN THE GAUNTLET AND HAVE TO XV. PICK IT UP AGAIN XVIII. MATTIE FREITH'S STORY-continued • EPILOGUE NIGHT PROWLERS HOW THE GENERAL REVIVES AN OLD ENTERTAINMENT FOR MY BENEFIT A FATAL GAGE D'AMOUR THE STORY COMPLETED BY ATHOL KELSO XIX. XX. XXI. A RARA AVIS XXII. THE BUTLER'S DYING STATEMENT XXIII. A SECRET DESPATCH XXIV. THE SANCTUARY. XXV. WITH RATHER QUEER CHARACTERS XXVI. A SHINY NIGHT XXVII. TWO SUSPICIOUS STRANGERS XXVIII. IN THE HOUR OF NEED THE AVENGING HAND. XXIX. XXX. A DOVE-FEATHER'D RAVEN XXXI. FOUL SECRETS XXXII. THE NIGHT IS LONG IN THE HOUSE OF THE DEAD MISADVENTURE OR MANSLAUGHTER • PAGE 148 158 169 180 190 200 213 226 242 262 · 268 277 287 294 309 318 327 334 341 350 359 368 874 CRADLED IN A STORM Prologue SUB CHAPTER I. IN THE STILLY NIGHT Such was the mansion where the great man dwelt, A widower and childless: and he felt The loneliness, the uncongenial gloom, That like a presence haunted every room; For though not given to weakness, he could feel The pain of wounds, that ache because they heal. AUNCHESTER-HAUGH stood in the midst of a low-lying tract of flat sward-land, close to a winding river-hence the latter part of its name. The river was deep and sullen, and crawled sluggishly down to the sea between rugged banks, which, for the most part, hid it from view. Its waters were shadowed by overhanging woods and giant alders, far along its tortuous line, both to east and west of the mansion. There was a weird style of beauty about Gaunchester- Haugh, an old-world look, which gave it a charm, investing it with the glamour of mystery and age. The house was Elizabethan; its several gables, thickly covered with ivy, 2 CRADLED IN A STORM which rounded off the vertical angles and crept up into the crooked chimney-stacks, making the old building look like 1. vast bower of evergreens. Most of the latticed windows were choked with the ubiquitous creeper, which, together with the deep shade of hoary, lichen-covered elms standing around, kept out the light, and rendered the interior of the house gloomy on the brightest day. GE The soil was heavy and fertile; there was an over- growth of luxuriant vegetation on every hand; an un- kempt look about the lawn, the shrubberies, the paths, and the trailing rose-bushes which sprawled over the half- weeded flower-beds; the gravel-drive in front of the house was encrusted and gangrened with damp, and be- sprinkled with grass-tufts; the sun-dial was clad in velvet green; moss also grew in the corners of the doorsteps and on the sides of the casements and window-sills. Yet the place was not uninhabited, and the owner was at home. It was simply degenerating into a howling wilderness from indifference and neglect. General Crutwell was that owner; a Waterloo veteran, who had retired from the world when he retired from the service, having seen a great deal of both, and more than enough of the former to disgust him for life. He now lived, or rather vegetated, as a misanthropic recluse, "the world forgetting, by the world forgot," and refused all intercourse with his neighbours. He was not an old man at this preliminary period of the story-barely fifty- five; but the last ten years had ploughed deep into his face, and aged him so that he looked nearer seventy. In that bitterly eventful decade of his life he had been dishonoured, robbed, and stricken with grief. No wonder he had forsworn the world, its pomps and vanities, its deceits and hollow pleasures. But he had done more, as if in penance for the sins of others; he had become a IN THE STILLY NIGHT 3 mortifier of the flesh-an ascetic hermit and miser, denying himself many of the ordinary luxuries of a gentleman, and crowning his lonely misery with self- privations and discomfort. The General's staff of servants was limited to three- Seroils, his butler and factotum; Harriet, wife of the latter, acting as housekeeper, cook, and maid-of-all-work ; and Nathan Slugg, an apathetic gardener, who lodged as an indoor servant-altogether a gloomy household in a gloomy house, with no young faces to brighten it. The gardener, Nathan, as he preferred to be called, perhaps considering his patronymic of Slugg as rather a reflection of his true character, was utterly incompetent to contend single-handed against Nature on that prolific soil; so, finding he had always more to do than he could manage, ended in doing nothing, and allowed the premises to run wild without fear of reproof or remonstrance. Peter Scroils was an old soldier, who had served with his master through several campaigns, and in earlier years had acted as his bâtman when the General was a Captain commanding his company. He had seen that master under the enemy's fire unblanched and steady as a rock, and he had seen him under the fires of sorrow withered and bowed to the ground. He knew all the painful secrets of his heart; but the past was a sealed book to both. General Crutwell was not one to invite confidence, and the faithful Scroils knew his place better than to speak on such matters unless spoken to; so the events of those ten years were never alluded to, and remained buried in the tomb of silence. Although General Crutwell had cut himself off from the world and civilisation, the formalities of a gentleman's house were ever strictly observed at Gaunchester-Haugh. Each night the gong sounded for dinner, and each night 4 CRADLED IN A STORM the tall, spare figure of the old soldier, erect and military in carriage, and invariably attired in evening dress, came down the stairs and went into his study on the opposite side of the hall to the dining-room, and there awaited the butler's announcement that "dinner was on the table." And a ghost of a banquet it was to which the grave, silent master of the house sat down every evening; a truly frugal repast—a mockery on the name of dinner, and seeming the greater mockery from the stiff ceremony attending it. But Harriet had standing orders as to her catering, and never presumed to exceed them. A tedious, lugubrious affair was that formal meal in the dark, oak-panelled dining-room-a gloomy room at any time-less so now, perhaps, in the evening light of summer than in winter, with a dimly-burning moderator lamp upon the table and not even a candle on the sideboard; the butler, in his noiseless shoes, stalking around like a phantom; the General never opening his lips except to admit food, which he ate slowly, sparingly, with auto- matical movements-the more slowly, too, since he was handicapped by the loss of one arm, the left, shot off at Waterloo, and now represented by a looped-up sleeve. With some dexterity from custom he used a scimitar- shaped knife, the curve of which was adapted to cutting up his meat with one hand, whilst the point did duty for a fork. But it was a long, solemn process, and Scroils was always glad when it, was over, and when the tall form of his master rose from the table and marched back into the study. There the old General sat poring over abstruse litera- ture till twelve o'clock at night, without even the solace of a cigar, a cup of coffee, or a modest glass of whisky-and- water. In fact, his only stimulant was a little light claret at dinner; his only extravagance, that of burning the mid- night oil. He read to forget, not what he read, but what IN THE STILLY NIGHT 5 مد he had suffered of late years; and while he studied, an even sterner look than at other times pervaded his sharp- featured visage. His was not a handsome face, though aristocratic and soldier-like; there was a gaunt, wolfish look about it- gaunt like his frame, attenuated by scanty fare and mental wear and tear. He was close-shaven, and wore his grizzled hair cut short. His thick eyebrows hung like eaves over his black, flashing eyes; his nose was long, and straight, and thin, with dilating nostrils; his mouth hard, lips compressed—the upper seamed by the sabre of a French cuirassier. Taking him altogether, General Crutwell was of a repellent aspect-not the sort of man you would care to make a friend of, still less an enemy. So silent is it everywhere- So silent you can hear the mouse Run and rummage along the beams Behind the wainscot of the wall. It is summer-a warm, still night in July-yet the master of Gaunchester-Haugh is not tempted to step out into the sweet air, laden with the scent of clover from adjacent meadows, nor to take a stroll through the romantic grounds. No; he pores on and on over those musty books by the light of a green-shaded reading-lamp placed on a table near the window, which is open, and reaches to the ground. It is dark outside; an infant moon and a few hazy stars relieve the sable awning of the heavens, but throw little light upon the floor of the earth. Not a rustle disturbs the stillness of the night; everything is asleep; all is perfectly quiet and silent. But by-and-by, as it draws near midnight, something seems to disturb the studies of the General. Two or three times he looks up quickly from his books. Is it at some sound he hears, or at some thought that strikes him? 6 CRADLED IN A STORM Ha! What's that? Great heavens! what's that?” He starts up from his chair, and nearly overturns the lamp in his sudden movement of alarm-alarmed, and very naturally, for at that moment the still night is ringing with frightful shrieks, the shrieks of some one in terror or agony, and at the same time the guttural snarling and worrying sound of some savage beast is heard close by-somewhere out in the grounds amongst the shrubberies. "Help, help! Valdor! Valdor! Help!" The screams rise higher and higher, the deep snarls and growls louder and fiercer. (6 Merciful heavens.! who is it? What is it?" The General pauses to listen for one instant; then, snatching up a stout stick from a corner of the room, darts out into the semi-darkness, in the direction whence these terrible noises seem to come. (( CHAPTER II. THE WATCH-DOGS AND THEIR PREY THE frantic screams suddenly ceased, but the furious savaging still continued. Guided by the tumult, General Crutwell made his way to a spot on the further side of the wide lawn, where he discerned a motionless body stretched out upon the dewy grass, and beside it two huge dogs locked in mortal strife. The dogs were his own, as he realised at once. By a whim of their master's, they were let loose at nine o'clock every night to keep off thieves; not that the neighbour THE WATCH-DOGS AND THEIR PREY 7 hood, far away as it was from any large town, was ill-famed for burglars, but General Crutwell had a monomaniacal dread of being robbed. No prowling felon, however, had yet come near Gaunchester-Haugh; and had any done so by chance, he would have found two formidable watchmen on the alert somewhere in the sequestered walks surround- ing the house-one a savage young mastiff, the other a powerful wolf-hound, an old pet of the General's, which he had brought over with him from the Pyrenees. Sh Now at last this four-footed night-patrol had caught some intruder, and, having apparently worried their victim to death, were fighting over the body, and tearing the life out of each other. Who was that victim? A woman, as the General, to his horror and amazement, could see by the dim light of the blurred moon and stars-an uncertain light which filled the atmosphere with a spectral haze. He struck at the hounds with his bludgeon, but failed to separate them; and then, more concerned for the fate of the luckless person who had fallen under their fangs, paid no further heed to them, but leant over the prostrate body, and called loudly to his servants for help. But the woman, whoever she was, was still alive, as he discovered from her low moaning, which above the horrid noise of the dogs he could not hear until he stooped down close to her. But though not dead, she was quite un- conscious, and lay there weltering in her blood, which smothered her face and rendered her features unrecognis- able-her throat and hands lacerated by the dogs' teeth, and the bosom of her dress torn open. Again the General shouted out to his servants, and presently the dancing gleam of a lantern was seen approaching from the house, and in another half-minute Scroils and the gardener came running to the spot. Meanwhile, the fierce struggle between the hounds 8 CRADLED IN A STORM raged on. With muffled roars they rolled over and over on the turf in a confused heap-an indistinct jumble in that weird light. But suddenly the fight came to an end. One had the other down in a gurgling death-grapple, and in a few minutes was mauling at the unresisting carcase of the vanquished. The hyæna-like jaws of the wolf-hound had throttled the life out of the young mastiff, which, though ferocious as a maddened tiger, had not attained its full strength, and so succumbed to its older and tougher antagonist. Here, Scroils, quick! call Harriet!" cried the General, still bending anxiously over the mangled form of the unfortunate woman. These dogs have half killed some one." ،، "Bless me who, sir?" exclaimed the butler, in con- sternation. "Ah, dear, dear, I was afraid those awful screams meant mischief. "Then why didn't you come out quicker?" "I only waited for the lantern, sir. Ha! mercy on us, it's a woman! What could she be doin' out here this time o' night?" 22 "Um-bad job, bad job!" muttered the gardener. "Fernal darvils! I knew they'd murder some 'ut." Then as the light of the lantern fell upon the dress of the prostrate person, Nathan added in astonishment: "Why, heart alive, sir! it's a lady, sure-li." (C Yes, that it is, sir! a lady, and no mistake," observed Scroils. Who on earth can it be?” "How should I know?" cried the General impatiently. "Don't stand talking there. Take her into the house, and call your wife." << "Hey! get out, you brute !" A vicious kick from the gardener, and a yelp, followed by a threatening growl from the wolf-hound, who had left the dead mastiff, and just THE WATCH-DOGS AND THEIR PREY 9 then came limping back towards the group around the fallen lady, called forth: "( How dare you do that? Let the dog alone!" from his master. "Down, Valdor! Why, what's the matter with him? Here, stand back!" to the servants; then, raising his stick, the General repeated, in a voice of thunder: "Down, Valdor!" But, in spite of the repulse, the hound drew near again, and with a low whimpering cry, crept cringingly up to the insensible form lying in their midst, and licked her hands, at which Nathan muttered that "the brute was just craving after the blood." The animal's behaviour was certainly strange, but he evidently meant no further mischief, and appeared cowed and trembling. Seeing this, the General spoke to him gently, and patted his back, but withdrew his hand hastily, for the wolf-hound's coat was wet with gore and saliva from the recent encounter. "He's killed Tartar, sir!" said the gardener, throwing the lantern-light on the stiffening form of the other hound. "Can't make it out," remarked Scroils. "Here, never mind anything else!" said the General, who was equally puzzled. "Take that poor woman indoors at once. Back, Valdor! Good dog!" The animal obeyed, wagged his tail, and looked in- telligently up into his master's face. The two servants between them now gently lifted the unconscious lady, and carried her into the house, the General preceding them with the lantern, whilst Valdor limped alongside, whining now and again as though in pain. They laid her on a sofa in the housekeeper's room, and committed her to the care of Harriet, who was wringing her hands at the terrible accident, and going on in a very alarming way, much to the General's irritation. The sight 10 CRADLED IN A STORM of so much blood, and the dreadful wounds on the poor sufferer's throat, were enough to shock any woman; but Harriet quickly recovered herself on a sharp rebuke from her master: (6 'Get some warm water and bandages," said he. "Bathe her face, and attend to her properly." ،، 'Hadn't I better go for the doctor, sir?" suggested Scroils. "Doctor! no; what can he do?” Them dog-bites, I mean, sir-oughtn't they to be looked to-costicked or something?" (( Oh, no, nonsense; there's nothing the matter with the dogs.' "" (C Very good, sir. I expect it was the young 'un that mauled her, and perhaps old Valdor was taking her part, and that's how they fought "-a view of the matter which now occurred to the butler as possible, though at the same time unaccountable; and so thought his master. "It's a most extraordinary and unfortunate affair,' muttered the General, adding, “but-your wife can do everything that's necessary. Wash all that blood from her face, Harriet; cleanse the wounds thoroughly, and then apply wet bandages. She'll come to presently; directly she does, give her some wine and water." "But excuse me, sir, I really think we ought to have the doctor," ventured Harriet. << "Stuff and nonsense; there's no need at all for that," rejoined the General, whose objection to calling in medical aid, unless absolutely necessary, arose from the fact that he did not wish the strange mishap to become public, and so cause a possible scandal. With hermit-like instinct he shrank from publicity in any form. But had he known it, there was another and a stronger reason in the background for keeping the matter private. When he did know it THE WATCH-DOGS AND THEIR PREY 11 presently, he looked upon his precaution as prophetic and providential. But another discovery immediately nullified such precaution. Harriet remonstrated, and said she was afraid of the responsibility; but the General paid no heed to her re- marks, merely replying that as soon as the lady recovered consciousness they were to let him know, and with that left the room. As he passed out through the door he found the wolf- hound stretched across the mat as if keeping sentry. He spoke to the animal, and called him by name to follow; but Valdor refused to move, and the General, wondering again at the dog's peculiar behaviour, allowed him to stay. where he was, and went back to his own study. It was with a vague pretence of reading that he settled again to his books, for what had just happened disturbed him considerably; nor had he sat down more than five minutes before he was interrupted by Scroils suddenly appearing at the door. Ah! has she come to? "No, sir; but we think we've found out who she is. Will you please to step this way?" Scroils both looked and spoke mysteriously, and his master without further remark followed him back to the housekeeper's room. As he re-entered, Harriet greeted him quietly with: "It's Miss Mariana, sir. Look. Poor thing! Poor thing!" What? Miss who?" (C ر, "I should say Mrs. Freith, sir, begging your pardon." "Mrs. Freith? Impossible-she dares not come here!" "It is, sir-see!" Harriet held a candle to the unconscious face, from which she had sponged away the blood. The General drew near, and stood over the sofa, looking down at that 12 CRADLED IN A STORM face with a strange expression on his own of mingled surprise and sternness; but no pity, at least no outward sign of pity, for the injured woman was in his austere gaze. "It is Mariana!" he murmured hoarsely. "What does this mean! Why is she here?" Neither Harriet nor Scroils spoke for a few minutes; the former continuing in silence to dress the lacerated throat as best she could, whilst General Crutwell stood by, staring down at the still white face of the sufferer, with its strong contrast of raven-black eyebrows, lashes, and dishevelled hair. The features were strikingly like the General's-the same square forehead, straight-cut nose, and thin lips- features cast unmistakably in an identical mould. General Crutwell, glaring with hard, pitiless eyes upon the insensible form lying there, was a father looking upon his daughter- an angry, disappointed father on a wilful, prodigal child. CHAPTER III. IN DREAD OF MADNESS SUDDENLY Harriet interrupted the dead silence, and, turn- ing to her master, said: "C 'Pray excuse me, sir, but you must send for the doctor." "I shall do nothing of the sort." showed him to be far more resolute "I'm only glad I didn't do so at first. the least necessity." The General's tone now in his refusal. Besides, there's not "There is, sir, begging your pardon," IN DREAD OF MADNESS 13 Harriet then, after slight demur, drew him apart and whispered something in his ear, which seemed to darken the expression in his face still more. He paused for a moment, then asked in a low tone: Are you sure?" << "" Quite, sir.' ،، “Very well, then; I suppose there's no help for it. Let Nathan go for him. I'll tell him." General Crutwell turned his back on the sofa, and was making towards the door, when an exclamation from Harriet stopped him. .. 'Ah, sir, look! She's coming round at last-thank heaven, she opens her eyes!" "I'm glad of it—but I—I have no wish to see her. I refuse to speak to her." "Oh, sir!" (( 'And you can tell her so." "Oh, sir! sir! remember she's your daughter," pleaded Harriet, sobbing; "and maybe she's dying. Oh, poor young lady! poor young lady!" ८८ There, there, my good woman, don't be childish." By nature Harriet was rather of the stern than tender order, but this sad sight touched her deeply. "Take every care of her," continued her master. "Dr. Rench shall come to her directly; but I'll see him first." The last words the General muttered to himself and left the room again, apparently relentless as ever, for Violent things will sooner bear assuaging, Their fury being spent by its own shock, Than the stern, single, deep, and wordless ire Of a strong human heart, and in a sire. It is a hard, although a common case, To find our children running restive-they 14 CRADLED IN A STORM لی In whom our brightest days we would retrace, Our little selves re-formed in finer clay: Just as old age is creeping on apace, And clouds come o'er the sunset of our day, They kindly leave us. Ere the hot July sun had risen high in the heavens next morning, Mariana Freith was a mother, a baby-girl having been hurried into the world before her time, not only through the terrible incident of the previous night, but from another and even more terrible cause, as yet to be revealed. Immediately on the arrival of the doctor during the small hours, General Crutwell had taken him aside and explained how the accident had arisen, adjuring him for certain private reasons, not particularised, to keep his own counsel on the matter. The polite, though slightly sar- castic, reply that a respectable medical man knew better than to betray the confidences of his profession-was sufficiently reassuring. Dr. Rench pronounced Mariana to be in a critical state, not from the wounds inflicted by the dog, which he had duly cauterised, but from the violent shock to the system that had brought about the premature birth of the child. The injuries to the throat, he said, were severe but not necessarily dangerous, unless the dog was suffering from rabies. That this was not the case. the General felt quite certain, and was also convinced now that the deceased Tartar was alone responsible for those injuries-that Scroils' surmise was correct as to the young mastiff's attack and the wolf-hound's defence of his whilom mistress. The report on her precarious condition somewhat softened General Crutwell's heart towards his daughter, who, moreover, appealed to him in a pathetic message, through Harriet, to come and see her and her little child. IN DREAD OF-MADNESS 15 He hesitated, and at first declined, saying that it was better she should not be excited in her present state. But soon natural parental feelings prevailed; and he feared that if he did not obey her summons now, he might never again behold her alive. He entered the partially darkened room, and approached the bed with soft, measured steps. Mariana did not hear him; her eyes were closed as if in sleep, but ere long they opened at the faint cry of the babe lying at her breast, and then she saw him standing in silence by her side. "Oh, father, forgive me!" The low pleading murmur reached his heart. Though hardened by the world, General Crutwell was not all stone. He bent down, and gently pressed his lips to her forehead. Not a word escaped him, but Mariana wanted no more than this. She breathed a deep sigh of relief to know that she had made her peace with him whom she had so justly angered. It was thus. Two years ago, a young medical man from Liverpool, named Waller Freith, purchased a practice in the neighbourhood, and took up his residence close to Gaunchester-Haugh. In course of time he met Mariana Crutwell, and fell in love with her; and she, struck by his handsome face, encouraged his addresses. But this she only dared to do clandestinely, being fully aware that her father would be furious at such folly, not to say bad taste, on her part; for, with all his well-bred-looking face and polished manners, Waller Freith was not a gentleman, nor had he a good reputation with those who knew him—which reputa- tion somehow followed him to shire, and handicapped him at starting in his new practice. General Crutwell, with others, held him under suspicion from the first, owing to the mysterious side-winds which reached them, and Mariana was accustomed to hear him 16 CRADLED IN A STORM spoken of in terms of doubt and disparagement. But with that extraordinary infatuation evinced by many another wayward woman who has allowed herself to be prepossessed by a good-looking mauvais sujet, and ended in falling in love with him, Waller Freith's questionable antecedents, instead of prejudicing Mariana against him, seemed to have an opposite effect. To be sure, there was the excuse for her that she led a dreary, isolated life at Gaunchester- Haugh, was seldom taken from home, saw little or no society, and certainly never a swain in the county whom she would care to call her lover. And there was yet another excuse in that she inherited all the warm Southern blood of her mother, who was an Italian by birth, and felt that she must love and be loved to live, or pine and die. That same passionate nature in the wife had already wrecked the happiness of General Crutwell, and was destined to do so again in the daughter. But the cases widely differed. The wife had dishonoured her husband, and brought shame and disgrace upon his name. His phlegmatic temperament had been at the bottom of this; Catarina, the hot-blooded Italian girl, fancied herself neglected and uncared for, whereas the General loved her with all his soul, howbeit, by his undemonstrative manner, the light of that love was hidden under a bushel. Hence her impulsive, throbbing heart, chilled by the apparent lack of response, turned for solace to another-to the bosom friend and brother officer of her husband, who outraged the implicit trust placed in him, and snatching at this frail prize, ruthlessly robbed the General of his wife, and fled the country with her. The daughter had acted in heartless defiance and dis- obedience of her father; and though well knowing how tenderly he cared for her as his only child, and all he had left to love in the world, and that such an act would go far IN DREAD OF MADNESS 17 to break his heart, she eloped with this adventurer-this medical upstart-and caused a second crushing scandal to fall upon the house. Under any circumstances, General Crutwell would have scouted the idea of her allying herself with a man in such a position; as it was, the act was greatly aggravated. But Mariana paid the penalty of her headstrong folly. In wrecking her father's happiness she had wrecked her own, as she discovered when too late. "Ah, I have indeed been bitterly, bitterly punished, she moaned out to her aggrieved parent; "my marriage has been too miserable for words, I cannot describe to you my utter wretchedness! Once that man got me into his power he asserted his legal right to torment me, and revenged himself for having, as he put it, been insulted and slighted by you-taunting me, besides, with having ruined him.” << "" There, there, my dear child, don't talk any more now," the General interrupted kindly and soothingly. (6 (C 'No, I don't wish to speak more of him; but oh, I did love him so, and now Ha! what am I saying?" She started up in bed with a sudden wild cry and a terrified look in her dark eyes. 'Oh, it all comes back to me! Oh, father, what have I done? what have I done? God have mercy on me, what have I done?" She sank down again on the pillow and gave way to a burst of hysterical weeping. The General was bewildered and helpless; her intense excitement he attributed to illness and the nervous shock she had sustained. Finding he could not calm her, he summoned Harriet to the room and left it himself, saying he would return by-and-by when she was better. Days passed and Mariana improved in health, but appeared greatly disturbed in mind; a rooted terror seemed. to have seized her-a morbid dread of hydrophobia from 18 CRADLED IN A STORM the injuries she had received, for the ragged wound in her neck caused by the dog's teeth had become violently in- flamed and refused to heal. This dread she confessed to her father, who did his utmost to talk her out of it, and assured her there was no reason to fear such a conse- quence since the young dog was perfectly healthy when it bit her. Q But there was more on Mariana's mind than this; an awful feeling of approaching madness from another cause. Fierce goblin thoughts haunted the belfry of her brain from morn till night, and threatened to crack within and set in jangling discord the harmonious bells of reason. Yet these thoughts she could not bring herself to confide to her father. She only told him that she had fled from her husband be- cause she found it impossible to live with him another day; then explained what had happened that night of her return, which proved to be as supposed. She said she was stealing timidly up to the house (having walked all the way from Harlingford, which place she reached by the last coach from Liverpool), when the savage mastiff suddenly flew out at her from the shrubberies and dragged her to the ground. With quick presence of mind she remembered her old friend Valdor, and, guessing that he also would be loose about the grounds, called him to her rescue with the result shown. The secret of her coming back to her father's house was well kept for a time, and only the doctor and the parson of the place, Mr. Kelso-through the functions of their respective professions-knew anything about it. But the fact of her return was destined to impress itself by-and-by upon the mind of the latter in the form of a startling tragedy. The Rev. Kenneth Kelso was a bigoted Scotchman, of good family, poor as a church mouse, and proud as Lucifer. IN DREAD OF MADNESS 19 But notwithstanding his pride he determined to take no offence at General Crutwell's gloomy reserve and the noli me tangere look which he noticed upon his face whenever they met; being cognisant of his recent sorrows, he viewed the old soldier's eccentricities with a charitable eye, as became a minister of the kirk. He had only come into the living within the last two years, and had lost no time in trying to cultivate his mysterious neighbour, but without much success. The parsonage grounds ran down to the river on the side opposite to General Crutwell's meadows, and a little way below was an ancient Norman bridge con- necting the two properties, over which bridge lay the nearest road to the church. The General was a very regular church-goer, and was frequently intercepted by the parson on his way thither, and drawn into conversation. whether he would or no. By this means only could Mr. Kelso snatch opportunities for becoming better acquainted with the unsociable and taciturn soldier. But as a preacher he found special favour in the eyes of the General, his extempore sermons being clever, earnest, and full of good argument; very different indeed from the sing-song, soporific rigmaroles of his predecessor, who read his long effusions- compiled, no doubt, from the best authors-in the same dreary monotone from the text to "now unto God." Maybe Mr. Kelso's superior preaching and the General's appreciation thereof might have bred a friendship between them, had not an untoward circumstance intervened, and put such a contingency for ever out of the question. That circumstance, instead, made them enemies for life. ១ 20 CRADLED IN A STORM CHAPTER IV. st UNLICENSED TO ETERNITY!” Oh damn'd despair!-to shun the living light, And plunge thy guilty soul in endless night! THE summer was past, and had given place to a wet, chilly autumn, with heavy rains which swelled the river Furion to its banks, and hastened the general decay of Nature. Mariana Freith was still at Gaunchester-Haugh, but kept in the strictest seclusion with her father. Yet long ere this her presence there had leaked out to the inquisitive neighbourhood, as was inevitable. Mr. Kelso was asked to christen the baby privately at the house; but here he gave them the first taste of his rigid Scotch scruples by a prompt refusal. He said his church was at their service, and that he made it a rule never to baptize infants elsewhere, except in urgent cases, where a child was at the point of death. Although it was not this refusal that led to an open quarrel between them, General Crutwell took great umbrage at it, and the christening of his grand-daughter was postponed sine die. Throughout these three months Mariana's mental con- dition continued to give her father the greatest anxiety. She was calm, but seemed to have lapsed into an alarming state of hypochondria; and it was the General's conviction, although Mariana had ceased to speak of it, that she still brooded in secret fear of the possible results from those terrible dog-bites. Yet the wounds had long since healed, and she appeared in fair health, showing no signs of any ailment beyond extreme depression of mind; but this was driving her mad-had driven her mad, in fact-an incipient * "UNLICENSED TO ETERNITY!” 21 madness none the less dangerous from its quiet, subdued power. Late one wild afternoon, towards the end of October, Nathan Slugg was making a feeble attempt to sweep up the leaves on the back lawn-choosing the very worst time, by-the-bye, with an equinoctial gale neutralising his half- hearted efforts—when he caught sight of his master's daughter flitting past through the shrubberies near where he was at work. She was bare-headed, and wore neither cloak nor shawl to protect her from the chilly blast; her raven hair was flying in the wind, and her large black eyes seemed starting from their sockets as she hastened by. The gardener saw the strange, scared look on her face, and, knowing she was "queer i' the head," as he called it, he was prompted to throw down his broom and go after her. Mariana heard his footsteps, and, stopping in her hurried walk, turned on him suddenly, and asked what he wanted, and why he was following her. Nathan mumbled out some reply, whereat she peremptorily ordered him back to his work; and, like a fool, he obeyed, and allowed her to continue on her way. About the same time Mr. Kelso was walking in the Rectory grounds beside the river, with his little son Athol, a child of four. The boy had begged his father to take him down to see the flood come tearing past in all the majesty of its strength. He was forbidden by Mr. Kelso to go near the water at any time without his nurse, and never at all during the floods except with him. The river was now brimming up to its high banks, and rushed by in a turbulent torrent, dead-level with the Gaunchester meadows on the one side and the parsonage garden on the other, the lower part of which was constantly submerged during the winter storms. A regatta of floating 22 CRADLED IN A STORM drift-wood came racing madly past on the swirling, discoloured water-large branches of trees and rotten logs-which had much attraction for the boy, who imagined them ships and boats upon the sea. They had been watching this pro- cession of wrecked timber for some time, and it was now growing dusk; so the parson and his son were about to retrace their steps towards the Rectory, when Athol suddenly exclaimed: "Who's that, papa? Look! who's that coming there?" "Where, my boy?" "There, there, by those trees!" Mr. Kelso glanced in the direction indicated, and saw the slight figure of a woman-a lady in a black dress- walking quickly, almost running, down to the river on the opposite side. She reached the water's edge some seventy yards above where they were standing, and paused for half a minute, as if contemplating the yellow flood flying by at her feet. Mr. Kelso recognised the General's daughter immediately—wild and spectral as she looked in the twilight-and wondered what on earth she was doing there without bonnet or cloak this boisterous evening. She was, apparently, as mad and eccentric as her father. He had hardly time to think these thoughts ere a piercing cry came down on the wind, and, to his horrified astonishment, he beheld her throw up her arms to heaven and plunge deliberately into the seething current. There was no doubt about it-the act was deliberate and evidently premeditated. The parson was no coward, but only a moderate swimmer, and as the dark form came drifting swiftly towards them, now sinking out of sight, now rising to the surface, he asked himself whether, as a husband and a father, he had a right to risk his own life by jumping into the angry river to the rescue of that poor, crazed suicide. But now as she swept rapidly past, and he caught a glimpse of her white → "UNLICENSED TO ETERNITY!” 23 face, the hunted look, the agonised eyes, humanity pre- vailed-the man beat the philosopher, and in a trice his hat and coat were off. (C Oh, don't, papa—don't!” cried the frightened child, seeing directly what his father meant to do; "don't, you'll be drownded!" and he clung to his knees in alarm. "Leave go, boy-leave go!" exclaimed Mr. Kelso. "Run up to the house-quick!-call William !-tell him to bring a pole-a rope-quick! quick!" Whereat little Athol scampered off in obedience. Mr. Kelso had also to run fast to get in advance of the drowning woman, before he should take a header in after her. Her clothes, and the swiftness of the stream, had kept her afloat so far; but he knew she would sink very soon for the last time. As he ran along the bank, shouting at the top of his voice for help, a large dog came bounding over the meadows towards the river. old Valdor, the faithful wolf-hound, who had spied his mistress from afar, and was flying to join her. Directly he got to the bank he seemed to know by instinct what had happened, and turning sharply, darted down stream till he caught sight of her in the water. Then almost at the same instant of time parson and hound leapt into the racing flood together, and swam after Mariana's sinking form. But just as they reached it she disappeared. Mr. Kelso dived immediately to recover her, but they were swept down some distance, and he had to repeat the dive three times in the muddy water before he succeeded in clutching hold of her long, loose hair as she drifted in front of him. At last, much ex- hausted himself, he managed to bring her to the surface, whereupon the wolf-dog, who was still swimming close at hand, seized her dress in his powerful jaws, and the two thus held her up whilst the swollen river, here at its most rapid point, whirled them along with tremendous velocity. - 24 CRADLED IN A STORM The clergyman now realised for the first time the presence of his canine companion in the rescue, and spoke a word of encouragement to him. He needed all his aid, for their danger at this moment was great. The thick, impetuous water seemed to be flying with them at racehorse speed, and before he could get out of the middle of the current to make for shore, he saw that they were drawing fast towards the Norman bridge, and in imminent peril of being sucked beneath its now hidden arches. But luckily other help was at hand. William had heard his master's frantic shouts before the child had time to reach the house, and guessed that somebody had fallen into the river. Snatching up the first thing to hand, which happened to be a long hay-rake, he ran down the garden, and came up with the trio in the water at a bend of the stream, where he was just able to reach them with the handle as they went sweeping by. Mr. Kelso seized it, and he and the drowning woman were drawn to the bank. But meanwhile Valdor had disappeared. From some unaccountable cause the wolf-dog had relinquished his hold, and was now being swept helplessly down to the bridge, beneath which he vanished ere many seconds into the dark depths. The parson witnessed this with a pang of regret that his brave comrade should so perish; but his attention was quickly turned from the fate of the hound to that of its mistress for her appearance gave sufficient cause for alarm, and it seemed as if the gallant attempt to save her life had been in vain. An apprehension only too well founded; for though she was still breathing faintly when they got her to the bank, this last spark of vitality soon died out, and all their efforts at resuscitation by artificial means proved unavailing. It was evident her face must have been under water nearly all the time of her immer- sion. "UNLICENSED TO ETERNITY!” 25 Mariana Freith was a dead woman, and had died by her own act. Of this Mr. Kelso was fully convinced. They carried her body up to the Rectory, and thence the parson, having changed his wet clothes, took it on in his own carriage to the General's house. He had only entered that house twice before on formal visits, and now on this painful occasion entered it, as it turned out, for the last time during the owner's life. Before removing the corpse of the unhappy woman from the conveyance, he rang the bell, was admitted to the General's presence, and then broke the shocking news to him as gently as he could. General Crutwell was staggered, but in his heart felt, from secret reasons, that this had taken place only as he had dreaded. Mr. Kelso touched modestly on his own courageous efforts to save the poor girl, and the bereaved father thanked him in a voice tremulous with emotion, but did not ask how she had fallen into the river-he guessed too truly—and the clergyman spared him at that mournful moment by refraining from any precise explanation of what he had witnessed. 26 CRADLED IN A STORM CHAPTER V. A NAMELESS GRAVE Is she to be buried in Christian burial that wilfully seeks her own salvation ? We should profane the service of the dead To sing a requiem, and such rest to her As to peace-parted souls. I tell thee, churlish priest, A minist'ring angel shall my sister be, When thou liest howling. SCARCELY an hour ago General Crutwell had held a dis- tressing interview with his daughter, and in that interview had learnt the true cause of her mental agony. She had suddenly burst upon him in his private room, with eyes distended, white quivering lips, and the dews of terror on her brow. She strove to speak, but the words died away in a gasping sigh, and she sank speechless and trembling on the nearest chair. Her father was greatly alarmed; the thought immediately crossed his mind that she was seized with the first symptoms of the awful malady. which constant brooding in silent dread had brought upon her. And she had come to tell him this at last! But no- it was no poison of the blood, but of the heart-the con- science-that thus tortured her. What she had to tell was of yet more fearful import than even that he apprehended. Then at length speech came to her, and she cried in thrilling tones: (( Oh, father, save me! Hide me from him! He is here--here in this house at this moment!' "" 'Who, child? What do you mean—who?” A NAMELESS GRAVE 27 "My husband! my husband!” "Your husband-here in my house!" General Crutwell rose instantly from his chair, and moved towards the door. "But no-stay, father! It cannot be. It is some horrible vision that haunts me. It cannot be he, for he is dead-dead!" "Dead! What are you saying, Mariana? What wild frenzy is this?" "It is no frenzy, father; he is dead, and I have this minute seen his spirit. It passed before me as I sat alone in my room; I beheld it as distinctly as I see you. I see it now! It freezes up my marrow, and forces the confession from my lips! Oh, father, it is indeed so he is dead." Her voice sank into a terrified whisper. "He died before my eyes and by this hand! Yes, I killed him! He raised the devil in me--I was exasperated, maddened by his coarse brutality—I bore with it for long in suffering and patience -but in an evil hour he drove me beside myself, when I seized a knife-unluckily at hand upon the table-and stabbed him to the heart!" General Crutwell recoiled from her in dismay; he, in his turn, was struck dumb with horror. Then, after an awful pause, he asked in a strange, suppressed voice : (C Mariana, is this true--or some freak of your distorted brain?" "It is true-God help me, only too true!" "God help you, indeed-you, my daughter, a mur- deress! Ah, it needed not this to crown our shame and sorrow!" The old soldier fell back into his chair and buried his face in his hand, stunned by this terrible blow. Another solemn pause ensued, and then a piteous cry broke from the cowering woman by his side. 28 CRADLED IN A STORM (( Oh, father, have mercy on me-do not turn from me at this awful moment. Ah, if you but knew all I have suffered through my own wicked folly and disobedience, you would pity me-indeed, indeed you would." The General rose again slowly, but he seemed bent and shrunken now from his lofty'stature, and shook in every limb. "My poor unhappy girl," he murmured in a husky voice, "it is not for me to judge you: I may pity you, but the law has none. It will search you out, it will drag you in shame to the bar of justice, and may Heaven protect you, for I cannot." CC No, no, they have not found me yet, and now they never shall," she cried impetuously. "I have seen his spirit to-day, and it has warned me. I shrank from con- fessing to you before, but I will spare you this disgrace; they shall never place me in the felon's dock-they shall never lock me in a murderer's cell! Never! never !-do not fear it !” She was hurrying from the room and had reached the door when he called to her : "Stay, Mariana! What would you do? Where can you go? God only knows—not I! Abroad-to another country -to another world!" The last words were muttered inaudibly, and before he could stop her she had rushed from the study, and, as he thought, upstairs to her own room; hence he left her alone to grow calmer by herself. Now, albeit the General apprehended danger from her present demented state, he did not realise how near that danger was, and little thought that he had looked upon her alive for the last time, and that within an hour she would be brought into his presence a corpse. Eleven days and nights had elapsed since Mariana (( "" A NAMELESS GRAVE 29 · Freith had sought that "undiscovered country from whose bourne no traveller returns," had flown to other ills she knew not of, and still her body lay uncommitted to the grave. For a week past the remains had been soldered up in their leaden shell and screwed down in the oaken coffin, but the funeral was postponed. An unlooked-for and painful obstacle had arisen to the carrying out of the last sad ceremony. The Rev. Kenneth Kelso refused to bury her in con- secrated ground! B General Crutwell had intimated to him by note the day on which he wished the funeral to take place, and received the following reply: "CHEPSLOW RECTORY, "October 29th, 1839. "MY DEAR GENERAL CRUTWELL, "Feeling as I do the deepest commiseration for you in your great affliction, you will, I am sure, believe me when I say that it gives me all the more pain to answer your letter as my duty compels. I wish, indeed, I could have spared you that answer, and earnestly hoped that I might not be called upon to give it. In such a dark hour a man with all Christian sympathy at his heart would fain regard the feelings of his brother, but the tenets of my sacred calling are imperative, and I can acknowledge but one law for the rich as for the poor. Ere you read thus far you will anticipate what I would say—what I have no option but to say. "I witnessed your poor daughter's death, as you are aware, and when I plunged into the flooded river to snatch her, if possible, from that death-the death eternal-alas, too obviously self-sought and self-inflicted-I prayed to God to aid me in rescuing her body from the grave, her soul from everlasting perdition. But it was not to be; she 30 CRADLED IN A STORM had flown in the face of Providence, and Providence re- jected me as its instrument of salvation. Believe me, dear General Crutwell, I am grieved beyond measure to be obliged to frame the sentence, but as it was God's will that she should perish by her own rash deed, so as God's minister is it my duty to refuse her burial in His sacred ground. "I will not pain you further by entering into the legal technique of the case, but must add that no coroner's inquest could have sat with the record of my unwilling evidence before it, and vouchsafed me that authority which by the Church ordinances I am debarred. Pray forgive my powerlessness to waive the ecclesiastic decree, nor cherish unjust resentment for my compulsory refusal to your request. "I am, my dear General Crutwell, "Yours in all sincerity and fellow-feeling, KENNETH MCL. KELSO." << The General's blood boiled when he read this letter. He looked upon it, plausibly couched though it was, as a deliberate insult, and despised the man for his heartless sophistry. On furious impulse he hastened over to the parsonage, to answer that letter in person. He was shown into Mr. Kelso's sanctum; the room, no doubt, where all those beautiful sermons were thought out before delivery. Bah! the hypocritical effusions of a cold-blooded, bigoted churl? So General Crutwell now deemed them; and he looked around the shelves with a bitter sneer at the array of theo- logical works and God-like books, which had taught their owner (if he read them) no better Christianity than this. Mr. Kelso entered the room to greet his visitor with a full apprehension of unpleasantness arising from his letter, yet scarcely prepared for violence. For the first few ▲ NAMELESS GRAVE 31 minutes of the interview, however, the incensed father suppressed his rage by a superlative effort. He loftily declined the proffered chair, and both remained standing. The old soldier's tall form towered above the squat, broad figure of the Scotchman, like a mountain peak dominating a rounded hill-a volcanic peak, indeed, smouldering with latent fires, and threatening every moment to burst out into fierce eruption. And burst it did, when Mr. Kelso had replied to the preternaturally calm question as to whether he would recall that letter, or whether it was to be considered final-a courteous, deferential reply enough, but acting as a spark to a magazine. The explosion was instantaneous. Then followed a stormy scene-stormy, at least, on the one side; but the parson's placid exterior remained comparatively unruffled under the tempest of wrath which swooped down upon his head. "And you mean to tell me this," cried the General, his voice crescendoing with each indignant word; "you mean to tell me that you presume to refuse my poor girl a place in our own vault in the church!" << General Crutwell, pray ye pardon me, but I have no choice in the matter. The case is most distressing, to me as to you, but, being one of felo de se beyond any doot- 22 "By what right do you say so? What evidence have you to prove such a thing?” "My own eyes, unfortunately. I witnessed the act. I stood within a few yards of her, and saw her deliberately throw herself into the raging river. Would I had not done so; but, since it was ordained that I should, I ask ye, can I, as Christ's meenister, reconcile my conscience with Him and give her Christian burial?” "By heaven, man, may you reconcile that conscience with God at your last hour, when you remember this 32 ORADLED IN A STORM refusal!" The General's voice was hoarse with passion as he hurled the malediction at him. "May your cruel insult to the dead recoil upon your head, and make you curse, as I do, your mean, unchristian creed! Did I but choose to drag my grief along the roads and demand inquiry, I could obtain a verdict which would over-rule your narrow-minded scruples, and force you to perform that sacred rite, as is your duty and her due. For the rest, mark me if I have to open the vault and carry her to it myself, I say she shall be buried there; and let me see the man who will dare to oppose it!" "I shall do so, General Crutwell, be assured," replied Mr. Kelso, roused at last by such words. "Angry abuse will no daunt me from doing what I know is right, however painful it may be; and I, as rector of this parish, shall both oppose and prevent ye." r By the living God, sir, stop me if you can!" cried the infuriated father. Stop me at your peril!" .. The look and action were so threatening, that the parson fully expected an assault there and then; nor would his cloth have protected him for another minute, had not the General, feeling that he could trust himself no longer in that presence, dashed out of the house with the fierce words of defiance on his lips. He hurried impetuously through the parsonage gates, a vacant, unseeing look in his eyes, rage and vengeance wrestling with the sorrow at his heart. But, as he reached the old Norman bridge, the sight of the river recalled him. He paused for a minute, gazing at the very spot where his daughter had been taken from the water, dead. Then the reaction set in, and he continued on his way to his own house with slow, measured step. On reaching it he retired to his study, and, throwing himself into an arm- chair, wept bitterly. A NAMELESS GRAVE 33 It was years since the floodgates of his heart had been thus opened; even his daughter's self-destruction had failed to open them, though his grief was none the less poignant-all the harder to bear the dull ache in his over- burdened breast which now at last found vent in tears. On calm reflection, he felt how utterly powerless he was; that his threat to the pharisaical parson, as he con- sidered him, was an empty one-mere words. The terrible circumstances of the case bound him hand and foot. He knew that any public action on his part would but court exposure and further disgrace. The unhappy girl had destroyed herself in the insanity of remorse, and had perished with her husband's blood upon her head. She had been tempted to rush uncalled into the presence of her Creator-had died in mortal sin, without shrift, unction, or absolution. No, she must be consigned to the grave quietly, secretly, and the double tragedy of her married life buried with her; that tragedy must be put out of sight as soon as possible, lest the world should seize upon it and make it history. With this new resolution in his mind, General Crutwell ordered a private vault-a miniature mausoleum-to be built in a remote spot amid the wooded walks of Gaun- chester-Haugh; hence the delay of the burial for a few days. There he laid her to rest, and read the service over her himself, as he had done for many a comrade in the field; his butler, gardener, and housekeeper constituting the funeral cortège. There was something strange and weird, yet singularly impressive, about the ceremony, performed as it was (by the General's wish) at twilight, for twilight in these umbrageous depths meant almost midnight darkness. broad day, and on the sunniest day, that portion of the grounds, with the moss-grown paths vanishing in the In 34 CRADLED IN A STORM tenebrous shade of ancient evergreens, was mysterious and eerie; far more so, then, at gloaming. The lonely site of the vault was hemmed in by patriarchal box-trees and junipers, which completely hid it from view even when you were close upon it. The two men-servants led the way slowly from the house, carrying the coffin between them by handles at each end, as though it had been a child's; the General followed it immediately in rear, with gray head bared, prayer-book in hand, and not a spot of white visible in his attire, the black military surtout fastened close up to the throat, and the high, old-fashioned stock taking the place of cravat and collar; behind him came Harriet Scroils, and in her hand a large basket of white roses and lilies to be strewn upon the body at the last moment. As they neared the grave the General opened the book, and by the flare of two torches held aloft by the coffin- bearers read out in clear, sonorous tones : "I am the resurrection and the life, saith the Lord; he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live; and whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die." They reached the new-made vault, halted, and laid the oaken coffin down reverentially beside it. Then came a long pause a monastic silence. The evening was perfectly still, as befitted the solemn scene; not a breath of air stirred the flames of the torches, which flickered on the funereal foliage around, and rendered all beyond their rays black as Erebus. For a few minutes the General appeared overpowered, and unable to proceed with the service, whilst large tears rolled down his deep-lined cheeks and fell upon the coffin at his feet. Presently, with startling suddenness, the harsh note of the night-jar broke upon the deathlike DISMISSED WITH IGNOMINY 35 quiet, and seemed to rouse the mourner from his tearful reverie, when he continued reading, but now in a low, quavering voice, and evidently labouring to the end. And near by the vault they buried the faithful Valdor, whose body was found, when the river fell, wedged in between some roots and the brickwork of one of the arches of the bridge. Over the grave of the wolf-hound was placed a smali tablet, with his name and a brief line to his memory; on the tombstone of Mariana Freith simply the initial M., and the date of her decease. CHAPTER VI. DISMISSED WITH IGNOMINY AFTER the dreadful occurrence of his daughter's violent death, General Crutwell found the renewed solitude of his home insupportable: the walls of the house seemed haunted with strange echoes and ghostly images. He could bear it no longer, and for the first time for several years left Gaunchester-Haugh, and went abroad to pass the winter at some out-of-the-way place in the South of France. His infant grand-daughter he committed, meanwhile, to the care of his maiden sister, Anna Crutwell, who was the only near relative he possessed, and one of the very few people with whom he now corresponded. She lived by herself on the dreary fens of Lincolnshire, in much the same sort of seclusion as her brother, and seemed glad to take temporary charge of the child at his suggestion; but beyond the fact of its mother's sudden death, knew nothing of the sad story connected with the parents. 36 CRADLED IN A STORM Spring was merging into summer when General Crutwell came back to his home, and, shortly after he did so, an unexpected event greeted him. It was his daily custom of an afternoon to pay a visit to his daughter's tomb, in its sequestered corner, where he would spend hours in silent self-commune, his thoughts in unison with the gloom of those sylvan solitudes. On one of these occasions he was returning sooner than usual from his pilgrimage, warned by the darkness, which seemed to have descended with tropical suddenness, and made him fancy that night had overtaken him while lost in meditation. But the abrupt obscurity arose from another cause. For the last hour, complaining murmurs in the murky heavens had told of distant strife among the elements. Dense, lowering clouds had gathered swiftly overhead, and turned the perpetual dusk of the yew walks. into nocturnal shade, when each mystic nook became a cavern black as the interior of a wolf's mouth, the deep brown shadows of the trees dark as pitch. Presently the lurid clouds burst into lines of liquid flame, as though Satan were hurling coals of fire across the firmament, and the earth vibrated with an instantaneous roar louder than a volley of giant guns, which rolled away in a dropping, bumping sound, like a heavy body falling from stair to stair. It was the first thunderstorm of the summer; in fierceness and grandeur not likely to be outdone by any that should come after. Now and again a large space of sky opened with a flash of blinding splendour, seeming to reveal beyond the very glory of heaven, and at each blaze the crest of the yew woods stood black to the dazzle. Then down came the rain in a broad, hissing sheet, deluging the ground and minimising the danger of the electric fluid. The General quickened from his usual leisurely pace to regain the house. All at once he stopped, and started C DISMISSED WITH IGNOMINY 37 back with an exclamation of alarm. Immediately before him, in the pathway, stood the figure of a man, who seemed to have sprung up from the ground, or fallen from the lightning-clouds like a thunder-bolt, so sudden was the apparition. He had no belief in the supernatural, but that this was some apparition he could scarcely doubt, when the next flash revealed to him the face of his murdered son-in- law. The incident, the place, the time, the abrupt revelation of that spectral-looking figure in such a gloomy haunt, amid the glare of lightning, were enough to daunt the stoutest heart. General Crutwell, naturally fearless though he was, was thoroughly taken aback for the moment. "Good God! What are you?" he gasped. "You know me, I think, sir! I am your daughter's husband, and I have come for her.' 39 The sound of the human voice was a relief, but the words were not so reassuring. << In heaven's name, what do you mean? Who-who are you?" stammered the General. (C I have said who I am-Waller Freith, your son-in- law !" "You! Waller Freith? The man's dead!" "Ah, you think so? Murdered by his wife, eh? She told you that, then? But he wasn't! She meant it, and very nearly did it, too; but he pulled through, and here he stands." "Psha! Don't tell me that-I don't believe you! This is some attempt at imposition. If you are not off my grounds in five minutes, I'll send for the police. Let me pass. >> General Crutwell had recovered his nerve, and now moved forward again. "Stop a moment, sir," replied the man, putting out his 38 CRADLED IN A STORM hand to detain him. "What I say is true enough. Can you doubt my identity? There!" Just then another flash of lightning lit up his features. "You know my face. I am no impostor and no beggar. All I have come to beg is my wife to claim her." cr "I-I don't understand it, but-follow me," said the General, perplexed and wavering. "Come up to the house out of this rain, and I will hear what you have to say.' Thereat he walked on, and the other obeyed without further remark. >> On going indoors, the General led the way to his private room, having first changed his wet coat in the hall. He allowed his visitor to remain in his, without deigning to offer to have it dried for him. Nor did he even invite him to be seated when they entered the study, and himself took up a standing position on the hearthrug, with his back to the mantel-piece, renewing the interview with a laconic "Now, sir!" The room was as dark as the walks, but at intervals a brilliant flash illumined it, and then followed a detonating clap of thunder that shook the old mansion and made the windows rattle again, while the rain still came down in torrents. << 'Well, it only remains for me to repeat what I have said, General Crutwell," resumed the man. "I am your son-in-law-Waller Freith in the flesh, and no other- recovered by a miracle, and after a long illness, from a dangerous stab dealt by my wife in a fit of frenzy. She fled from me and left me for dead, and, I have no doubt, thought she was a murderess; but, thank God, a good con- stitution spared her that. I have been for months in hospital, but resolved when I could to go in search of her. For that purpose I came down here to-day. There seemed to be no one to answer the door, so I ventured to look for you in the grounds." DISMISSED WITH IGNOMINY 39 While he was speaking, General Crutwell lighted two candles on the mantel-piece, and now closely scrutinised his face. The examination seemed to convince him that the man's story was true as to his identity. He appeared very young-not more than three-and- twenty. His face was now pale, and he looked wretchedly ill-his slight figure, of medium height, much pulled down; but in health that face, hairless as a boy's, was of remark- ble beauty, as much for its intellectual cast as perfection of feature. His short curly hair clustered around a well- shaped head, like that of a Greek god; his broad forehead, ich prominent perceptives, and straight-cut nose, were outlined in the same Grecian mould. But his eyes spoilt lin; they were not true, and seemed to change colour with his moods—were now soft and liquid, now hard and lower- ing; and with their variable expression the mouth altered correspondingly, so that a handsome, winning face became transformed in a moment into one malevolent-looking and forbidding. << CO And what do you want of me?" General Crutwell demanded curtly. "Your wife-my daughter, whom you stole from my doors? You are too late; she is lost to you -for ever!" "Lost to me for ever! Where is she? You don't mean she is "" (( Dead!" "Dead! No, no; don't put me off with that." Waller Freith in turn doubted the General's word. "You want to keep her from me, but you shall not.” "I tell you she is dead," said General Crutwell, in a stern, solemn voice. "And I tell you I won't be put off with that," cried the other impetuously. "You are deceiving me! She is here -she is hiding from me and I mean to take her back." 40 CRADLED IN A STORM (( "That will do, sir; I am not in the habit of lying,” retorted the old soldier haughtily. "There is the door!" General Crutwell, look here! Do you take me for a fool, to be treated in this way? Give me back my wife, or tell me where she is. If she is not here now, she has beer to you, or you couldn't have known about "" "Once more, man, I repeat, your wife is dead; and were she alive, she would never return to you. True, she has been here, and told me what had happened-of her misery and your brutish conduct, the cause of all." "Ah, well, there are two sides to that question, General," returned Freith, in an offhand tone. "You know something about her temper, I think. But I needn't try to defend myself to her father. All I will say is, she ruined me. I threw up a promising practice here for her sake, and found I had made a bad bargain.' "" (( I am heartily glad to hear it. It was a just reward for your treachery." << 3 Treachery! What treachery? There was none on my part-I loved her" The General gave a snort of contempt. "Loved her! Don't talk to me of your animal feelings. I say you lured my child from her home by some infernal sorcery, or she would never have stooped to a low- "" "Steady, sir! Take care how you insult me. I don't wish to forget myself, but I will not brook an insult from you or any man living. Listen here! Your daughter cast her lot in with mine of her own free will. We knew your consent was out of the question, and had no alternative but to run away together. That we did so you have only to thank yourself.” "Confound your insolence!" cried the General. "You dare to aggravate the case by telling me this! I will hear no more from you. Go out of my house this instant !" "Not before you have answered me these questions- P DISMISSED WITH IGNOMINY 41 If Mariana is dead, where did she die? and where is she buried?" "II decline to tell you. Go, sir!" "Then I decline to believe you. It's a quibble. You mean she is dead to me. But, by God, I'll find her out- I'll make her come back to her husband, and the devil himself shan't prevent me!" There was a fiendish look of determination in the man's face as he spoke, which his hearer duly noted. (C 'Do your worst; I am only thankful she is beyond your power. And now, Mr. Freith, oblige me by leaving this house." The General spoke more quietly as he put his hand to the bell. Stop! don't ring yet. Grant me a few more minutes. I won't fight against you any longer. I'll give in." Waller Freith abruptly changed his tone and manner to suit his purpose. "If you pledge me your word as a gentleman that poor Mariana is dead, I'll believe you." (( "I have already given you that word, sir" "Then I am indeed shocked to know that it is really so." "Don't ask me anything further, for I refuse to answer." et Very well, then, I will not. As to how and where she died, and where she is buried, you have some reason for keeping from me, I suppose. What that inscrutable reason may be I don't understand. But let it pass. I come to another subject. General Crutwell, I am a ruined man!" The statement was impressive, and to a certain extent true enough, but the General received it with a discouraging air. "I have lost all for her sake," continued the young man-"my practice here, my practice in Liverpool. Every patient has slipped from my hands whilst a patient myself. I have been laid on a bed of sickness-near proving my 42 CRADLED IN A STORM death-bed-put to torture and expense, and all through her. I appeal to you, then, as the father of my dead wife, to have some sympathy for me- "Ah, that is the other subject?" interrupted General Crutwell, with a sneer. "I thought you said you were no beggar!" ور (( "Nor am I; but, under the painful circumstances, surely I have some claim on you as-as your son-in-law. Under the painful circumstances I decline to see that, Mr. Freith." The General's tone became still harsher and more unyielding. "Who asked you to become my son- in-law, and what have you brought to me by the alliance? I consider it a gross effrontery to urge such a point." "To you it may seem so, sir; but I am desperate, and staring starvation knows no over-refinement of scruple. You are rich, and can save me if you will. I sink my pride, and ask this in memory of Mariana." . "" That sad memory alone would be enough to ensure my refusal. I only marvel at your want of judgment in imagining otherwise. I do refuse-unhesitatingly, em- phatically." "For God's sake, don't! Don't send me from here to-night in despair and degradation. I beseech you, don't do so, General Crutwell, or" He paused. "Or what?" Waller Freith was silent. 'Um-you have changed your key considerably since the commencement of this interview," resumed the General, after waiting for a few seconds for him to go on. "It seems now that your object in coming here to-day was not to ask for your wife, but for money. "> "I came for her and her alone, and it is only because I have lost her that I appeal to you for help and pity. I hoped earnestly to have seen her for her to have been DISMISSED WITH IGNOMINY 43 restored to me-that when she beheld me a wreck like this she would have regretted her passionate act, and that we should have become reconciled under your roof and with your approval.” Never with my approval; nor would you have found reconciliation with her. But both are now beyond discus- sion. Death, in lieu of the law, has stepped in between you, and you are separated for ever. As for myself, you are nothing to me, and I decline to have anything to do with you." Waller Freith bit his lip and clenched his fists with tearing, impotent rage, but did not speak for a few moments. Suddenly he burst out: (C "General Crutwell, you are a cruel, flint-hearted man! I verily believe you had no more love for your daughter, nor sorrow for her death, than you have pity for me.' ८८ If I had not it would be little indeed, Mr. Freith. I have nothing further to say. Our interview is at an end,” and with that he rang the bell. "Then I have humbled myself in vain! You refuse me a helping hand after all I have suffered on your daughter's account? I wish to understand that thoroughly, so I ask you once more "" "Spare yourself further humiliation. You have my answer." CC Very good, then, I accept that answer-for the pre- sent. Perhaps by-and-by you may change in your disposi- tion towards me." The General smiled coldly. "At any rate I will wait. Meanwhile pray let me apologise for my importunity. I ought to have known better." "I think you ought," was the old officer's reply. The butler now appeared; from his promptness in auswering the bell it appeared as if he had been hovering scшewhere near. 44 CRADLED IN A STORM "Scroils, show this gentleman out," said his master pompously. "Good evening to you, General Crutwell." Waller Freith extended his hand in ordinary politeness, but the General drew back and bowed stiffly. At this affront before the servant a demoniacal look leapt up into the young man's white face, a look enhanced at that moment by a vivid flash of lightning. He paused at the door, then bowing in return, said: "I have had great pleasure in making your acquaint- ance to-day, sir, and I look forward, I assure you, with even greater, to renewing it on some future occasion." There was not much in the words, but the angry eyes glistening through the transparent smile conveyed a covered threat which the unbending father-in-law could not fail to note, but received with supreme scorn. "Since it still rains somewhat," continued Freith sarcastically, "perhaps you will permit me to take refuge outside in your porch until-?" ८८ Certainly not, Mr. Freith; oblige me by taking a seat in the hall till the storm is over." "Sir, I am infinitely indebted to you" Not at all, you are most welcome to the accommoda- tion." Waller Freith then left the room, followed by Scroils, but naturally did not avail himself of the shelter so in- sultingly offered. He went straight across to the front door, and there paused for a moment with his hand upon the handle, when Scroils stepped forward, saying: (C "C Allow me, sir,” and was about to open it for him, but it stuck, as it often did, from the damp, and he fumbled and tugged for a few seconds before he succeeded. Mean- time with quick, stealthy action, Freith, unobserved, had written something on the woodwork at one side of the door. DISMISSED WITH IGNOMINY 45 A quivering dazzle and simultaneous crash in the heavily-loaded sky drove the butler back from the open doorway, the rain now descending like a water-spout. But without further hesitation Freith passed out into the pitiless storm, and quickly disappeared in the semi- darkness. Scroils looked after him for a few moments, and shook his head gravely; then turning to his master, who came out into the hall as the front door closed, said quietly : 'I wish you'd asked that young man to stay dinner, sir. Let me call him back." Call him back! what do you mean?” Again Scroils shook his head. r Excuse me, sir, but I know who he is, and I'm afraid he won't forget this. I watched his face while he was speakin' to you, and if ever I saw the devil it was there! I'm sorry you sent him away so, sir. I shall never feel safe in the place now, especially without them dogs!" Tush, man! don't talk like an old woman! ex- claimed the General impatiently. "Go back to your pantry and mind your own business.” ८८ Scroils obeyed without a word. disciplined to argue with his austere master. เจ General Crutwell himself, as already hinted, did not know the meaning of the word fear. His Victoria Cross, with bar, won by acts of daring in the field, fully testified to that. He had ever been accustomed to hold danger of any kind in contempt. Certainly, then, he was the last person to be intimidated by the masked threat of an angry, disappointed man, or to be daunted by the anticipation of any imaginary or possible evil that might arise from this scornful repulse of his unwelcome son-in-law, who had dared to invade the sanctity of Gaunchester-Haugh. (( "" He was too well THE STORY AS TOLD BY MATTIE FREITH CHAPTER I. 1 FORBIDDEN SWEETS This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath, May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet. LOOK around at the quiet old place now, not a whit altered from what it was in the days I am going to tell about, and can scarcely realise that the strange and terrible events which took place within its walls, or within the boundary of its premises, are actual facts, and no frightful nightmare. I often doubt my own memory when I think of it all, and yet have good reason not to do so. Old houses, like dead men, tell no tales. They stand, till demolished by time, in grim and silent record of the past, together with their fellow witnesses, the Methuselah trees, who sigh, and moan, and howl around as though in perpetual lamentation of all they have seen and heard. But the dark histories are brought to light and duly chronicled-sometimes by a faithful pen, sometimes by the pen of hyperbole. I propose to tell my story with the first. FORBIDDEN SWEETS My early life at Gaunchester-Haugh was divided into three short periods-five months of infancy, five years of childhood, and less than one of girlhood, at the age of nineteen. With the first period, of course, I have nothing to do; the second I will just skip over lightly, and, like a good story-teller, come promptly to the third, for in that period lies the pith of what I have to relate. I say my childhood at the old home I will skim over quickly, that is, will only follow it As a traveller follows a streamlet's course through the valley : Far from its margin at times, and seeing the gleam of its water Here and there, in some open space, and at intervals only; Then drawing nearer its banks, through sylvan glooms that conceal it, Though he behold it not, he can hear its continuous murmurs; Happy, at length, if he find the spot where it reaches an outlet. Anything for a change! And no one ever welcomed that anything more than I did when I left Aunt Anna's great ugly house on the Lincolnshire fens, and went to live with my grandfather, General Crutwell, at Gaunchester- Haugh. Not that the one house was any livelier than the other, but the latter was a novelty. With the romantic grounds I was simply enchanted. Such glorious woods and grand old trees were in delicious contrast to the dreary, timberless flats I had been accustomed to. I, Mattie Freith, christened Martha (thank goodness. for the abbreviation a name singularly prophetic, for I was destined to be troubled about many things), was just twelve years old when sent back to my birthplace, and at that age full of youthful appreciation for the new glories of nature which here burst upon me. I remember, when I took my first walk round the grounds with my grandfather, I thought what delightful fun I should have climbing this or that feasible tree and looking for birds' nests, or roaming about alone in tle 48- CRADLED IN A STORM ! mysterious walks, and fancying myself in Wonderland. My great-aunt had been very kind to me in her way, but had kept me terribly under the apron-strings of my nurse; and being of a roving, I'm afraid rather tom-boyish dis- position, I yearned for freedom. Not that there was much inducement to rove about the flat, uninteresting fen country, but here, oh, how different! Now I longed more than ever for that freedom, only wishing I might get it; and I did. For some time after I returned on his hands, the General considerately let me do much as I liked, and I was bothered neither with a governess nor any too obtrusive attendant. I was now beyond a nurse. Child companions I had never known, so did not miss them; I was very independent, and revelled in my own society. My only playmate was a queer old tom-cat called Cæsar; but he was never allowed in the house, for the General, like "Dog Tray," was a mortal foe to the cat tribe, and averse to pets of any kind, which I considered horrid of him. There was a strong affinity between Cæsar and me. We used to scramble up trees and walls together in friendly rivalry, and I believe I was almost as active as the cat-so the servants said. Traces of me were to be found every- where-little bits of frill or muslin at various elevations. These disagreeable old Nathan, the gardener, was wont to collect spitefully and take to my grandfather, when I got a good scolding for spoiling my clothes, and the promise of a birching if I did it again. But, of course, old people can- not be expected to enter into youthful spirits, or appreciate monkey-like habits, and I forgave them. Good gracious ! how tremendously ancient they all seemed, that quartette of the grandfather, Scroils, Harriet, and Nathan-as old as the house and trees themselves. The only creature there about my own age was Cæsar, and he was pretty antiquated for a cat. - FORBIDDEN SWEETS 49 But I was soon destined to meet somebody more inte- resting, and of a more kindred spirit than even my feline friend. It was a silent, peaceful afternoon in autumn, about a month after my arrival at Gaunchester-Haugh-silent, save for the cawing of grotesque old rooks in the elms, and the chattering of starlings among the gables. The ill-kept grounds were bathed in a faint yellow light, the sad sunshine of the declining year. The gardens bore the seal of gradual decay, and on the lawns and walks amber leaves fluttered down slowly, incessantly. The time of flowers was fast waning, nearly over, but the orchards were rich with golden pippins and rosy-faced apples. The russet woods beside the river stood ripe to be stript, yet still full of leaf. The pastures were mellowed far and wide, but much rain had fallen since the last moon, and the grass was heavy with moisture; the lawn dank and sodden, with layers of wet, rotting leaves lying in neglected places. The wand of an early frost had changed the green bracken into gold, and out in the misty meadows, beyond the yellowing shrubberies, the blackberries swarmed upon the prickly labyrinths of bramble. Thither I hie me, with a basket on my arm, to feast on the wild fruit, and, squirrel-like, to lay in a hoard for the morrow, in case of a rainy day. My shoes and stockings are soaking wet before I have half crossed the swishy meadows to get to the best black- berry brakes; but I am regardless as a young gipsy of such a trifle as this. I wander along for some time picking and eating, and smearing my face and hands, as well as staining my frock, with the dark purple juice, until I find myself close to the river. It has risen a great deal from the recent rain; the lively, fast-running water attracts me, so I leave the blackberries to go and watch it. Hitherto I have only 50 CRADLED IN A STORM seen it crawling along at tortoise-pace. Now it is wide awake, and seems to be making up for lost time in its hurry to get down to the sea, and I have to walk smartly along the bank to keep up with it. Presently I come opposite to the parsonage grounds. At the bottom of the garden is a boy also watching the river. I stop and look across at him; he looks at me, and I can't help thinking what a particularly handsome face he has, for I am already quite old enough to admire beauty in the opposite sex. He seems to be about fourteen, and wears a short jacket and large turned-down collar, like the traditional school-boy; and that's what he is-young Kelso home from Eton, as I soon discover. We stand staring at each other in the rudest manner for at least a minute, and neither speaks. Suddenly a bright thought seems to strike him. He smiles, picks up a large piece of wood close by, and waving it at me across the river, roars out: "I say, look here! You throw in that bit at your feet there, and I'll race you with this down to the bridge." I accept the challenge on the spot. "All right, I'm Cambridge !" I cry in reply. "All right," says he, "I'm Oxford. Now then, when I give the word three-one, two, three!" and splosh go the two pieces of wood into the muddy stream, his getting rather the start. (( Oxford wins! I'll back Oxford!" he shouts, as we trot alongside, watching our respective bits of timber, and quite imagining them for the occasion be eight-oared outriggers. + "No, no, Cambridge!" I scream at the top of my voice, as my boat pulls up and passes his. "Not a bit of it-look there! Bravo, Oxford!" On we go dancing, and prancing, and shouting down the › FORBIDDEN SWEETS 51 banks in friendly familiarity as though we had been brought up from the cradle together, and great is our ex- citement, as first one, then the other boat gets in front. Now Cambridge is caught in a swirling eddy and hangs back, while Oxford glides by triumphantly; then Oxford gets stopped by some obstruction, and Cambridge snatches the lead again, and so on, up to the ancient ivy-covered bridge, on nearing which the two race nose and nose at a great pace, and it looks like being a dead heat, but just at the last Cambridge puts on a spurt and palpably shoots the centre arch first by a few inches, when I scream out in triumph: "Hurrah, Cambridge! well rowed, Cambridge! I told you so. "" "Not a bit of it; Oxford !" yells the bare-faced youth. Oxford won by a foot !" "Oh, you horrid story!" I retort excitedly, regardless of the etiquette due to a stranger. "I tell you it did," he contradicts, with equal dis- regard. "I tell you it didn't," and we both run on to the bridge and look over the other side of it, to see our two boats go bobbing and drifting down the river together until a bend shuts them out from view. << Then he turns to me and says, more politely: "How do you do?" and shakes hands, urging afterwards, with a twinkle in his blue eyes, "but now, really and truly, you know, I think Oxford did win." (C Oh, I don't think so, indeed," I reply, emulating his more civilised tone. Very well, then; it shall be as you wish-I won't contradict a lady." Come, what a nice boy! "But you will own Cambridge won fairly, won't you?' .. 52 CRADLED IN A STORM I press coaxingly, not at all satisfied to be allowed the victory only on sufferance, and sticking to my point like the woman with the scissors. "Yes, yes, of course-I was only humbugging. Here he looks at me critically, at my tousled hair, and mouth decorated with blackberry juice. "I say, excuse me, who are you?" he asks, rather abruptly. (( I'm Mattie Freith." "Mattie what?" Freith. (6 "Oh and where do you live?" "There," pointing at our house. What, with the General ?" Yes; he's my grandfather." "I've never seen you before. ፡፡ "" << When did you colne?” Only a few weeks ago. And now, who are you?" Mr. Kelso's son-the clergyman there," tossing his thumb over at the parsonage. (( tr "" What's your name?” "Athol." ("What a pretty name!" I think) "I came home for the Michaelmas holidays, but stayed on because I haven't been well." C (C "Oh, I'm sorry for that." "What-that I stayed?" smiling. "That you've been ill, of course; and when do you go back?" "The week after next.' "Oh, what a pity!" "Why?" "Because I hoped we might have some fun together." Well, so we will till then, and I shall be home again at Christmas. You'll be here still, won't you?" "Oh yes, I suppose so; I'm living here now." "" FORBIDDEN SWEETS 53 "That's jolly. We'll have some more races. What have you got there?" (C Blackberries. Have some. (C Thanks." He helps himself, and we cement our acquaintance by gobbling together. I am pleased to see that his mouth is soon in much the same state as mine. "Hulloa! there's my guv'nor," he observes presently, catching sight of somebody in the distance. "Your what?" "My paternal-my dad, you know." "You mean your papa, I suppose. Why don't you call him so?" "J (C Oh no, we never do that; it's girlish. Have you got a father?" "" "No, I don't think so. "How do you mean?" >> "None that I ever heard of." "A mother?" ،، 'No; she died when I was a baby.” << 'Ah, I see; so you've come to live with your grand- father?" "Yes; but I was born here." "Indeed!" "Athol Athol !" calls the voice of the "guv'nor." "There! I must be off. Good-bye." "Good-bye." "I say, be here to-morrow.' "What time?" "Three." Very well;" and we part. I was delighted at our meeting, and went home in high glee at the prospect of having a jolly boy like that to play with. But my glee was doomed to an immediate damper. << "9 £ 54 ORADLED IN A STORM As I was running back to the house, I met the General taking his evening stroll. - .. Hulloa! where have you been, Mattie ?" he asked. Blackberrying, grandpa." My hands, face, and frock proved that, as well as my basket. (( Where?" (4 "Down by the river.” "I told you not to go near that river alone." "Oh, but, please, I haven't been alone. "Whom have you been with ?” "I met somebody there-such a nice boy- "A boy! what boy?" "Mr. Kelso's son, Athol.” "Young Kelso!" My grandfather's face grew black as midnight. He caught hold of my arm tightly with his one hand, and in a terrible voice said: "Now listen to me, Mattie. If ever you dare to speak to that boy again, on any pretence whatever, I shall flog you soundly. Do you understand that?" >> "" "" "Ye-es, grandp-pa. And I began to blubber, wondering what harm I had done. "Or to his father, or any one belonging to that house. Do you hear me me?" 66 Ye-es, grandp-pa-bo-oh! The bony fingers hurt my small arm, and his fierce, ogre-like eyes frightened me, so I roared out lustily, and tried to wriggle away. Now, don't cry, child." Here he gave me a rough shake, and thereby pumped up more tears and howls. "There's nothing to cry about. Be a good girl, and do as I tell you. There, run along in to your tea.' (C "" And off I went, glad to get out of his vulture 13 claw. I told Harriet at tea-time all about Athol, and what the General had said, and wanted to know what it meant. FORBIDDEN SWEETS 55 But she was not explicit, and merely remarked that I must do as I was bid, or I should "get the birch." The old housekeeper was a hard-featured, bony-looking woman, with light-coloured, expressionless eyes, and a grimness of countenance in which she seemed to take after her master. She was not the sort of person to win a child's affection, and certainly never tried to win mine. I was more afraid than fond of her. Now, although my grandfather gave me freedom enough, he seemed bent upon ruling me with a rod of iron, or rather of twigs, for I lived with that essentially Saxon weapon of chastisement, the birch, perpetually hanging over my head like the Damoclean sword. With all deference to Solomon's maxim, I venture to think this fortiter in re system was a mistake with a girl of my disposition, for though of rather a contumacious nature, I am certain the suaviter in modo would have answered better in the end. It was not till years afterwards that I understood my grandfather's misguided motive for his severity towards me. He was cruel to be kind, no doubt, in his own thinking; but a sensitive child fails to appreciate that nice distinction. between cruel kindness and downright cruelty; the coupling together of such contradictory terms is beyond its under- standing. I had no intention of wilfully disobeying his commands on this present occasion, and only wandered towards the bridge next day just to explain matters to Athol Kelso, lest he should think me rude-to tell him that, very much to my regret, I had been prohibited from ever speaking to him again. When I reached the bridge, no one was on or near it; the stable clock had struck three long ago, there- fore I was late; he might have come to the spot and gone away again. Still, the chances were, he would return 56 ORADLED IN A STORM presently. I waited about for a considerable time in the hope of his doing so, for I was anxious to let him know the situation, but at last had to give it up, as I could see nothing of him, and went home not a little dis- appointed. Three or four days afterwards, our second meeting came about quite by chance. I was out nutting in the woods. below the bridge, on our side of the river, but away from it, when I heard some one just on ahead whistling "The Girl I left behind me," dreadfully out of tune. I knew at once it was a boy's whistle, and only hoped it might be Athol's. It was. Now, this was purely accidental, and no fault of mine. Of course he would speak to me first; then I couldn't help answering, and my conscience would be clear. I come up with him. He is nutting too, but only cracking and eating them as he goes along, like a monkey ; whereas I am gathering mine in a basket for the General's dessert. The finest cobs grow in these woods-which woods, by the way, belong to my grandfather, so Master Athol is trespassing. I shall tell my young friend of that, and show him my importance. He seems too busy to notice me, so I pretend not to see him, and go on picking. Then, as he won't look my way, I begin humming an air (more in tune than his whistling, I flatter myself) to draw his attention. He turns and faces me; but, to my surprise, instead of coming forward, only grins, without speaking, and dives into the bushes out of sight. This is too much for my equanimity; what does he mean by it? But of course he's only playing. However, I'll pull him up for trespassing, so call out in a shrill treble : ↑ "Hi! I saw you, you know! You've no business here -these are our woods. My grandfather will give it to you." FORBIDDEN SWEETS 57 "Dare say he will if he catches me," replies a nut- munching voice in the depths beyond, "but I don't mean to let him. I'm off." "No, no, stop-I want to speak to you." "I don't want to speak to you that's to say, I mustn't." "What do you mean? Come out of there and ex- plain." "All right, wait a second-let me pick these first.' Then with a rustle and scramble he reappears. Such a dear, bonny boy he looks! I feel quite mutinous when I think of my grandfather's injunctions. "Now, who said you weren't to speak to me?" I inquire imperiously. "My guv'nor; he saw us the other day on the bridge and asked who you were, so I told him.” "And my grandfather forbid me to have anything to say to you isn't it funny? What do they mean?" << Well, you see, the guv'nor and the General are bad friends quarrelled years ago, before you were born." "" "What about?" "That I can't tell you exactly, and nobody at our place has anything to do with anybody at yours. That's how it was I didn't know you'd come. They keep things precious dark at Gaunchester-Haugh. It's a good joke, isn't it, their wanting to stop us, and here we are talking together like one o'clock!" << 'I couldn't help it." "More could I, but I didn't speak to you first." "Now, that's mean-just like a man." "I'm not a man-yet, but” << Well, a boy; it's all the same. You take after Adam; he blamed Eve, and you want to put it on me." "Oh no, I don't; I'll say it's my fault if we're caught; 58 CRADLED IN A STORM but I like talking to you, and I don't see why we shouldn't, especially if we meet by accident" "Yes, there's not much harm then, surely." "And we can often meet by accident if you choose." Very well, I'll try," I answer naïvely. "And, by-the- >> << (6 Then bye, I went down to the bridge that next day, but Did you? I'm so sorry-I couldn't come. you're not much afraid of your grand-dad, I suppose?" "Oh yes, I am, dreadfully." (6 Why, does he whip you?" "He hasn't yet, but he's always saying he will." "What a beast!" "No, he isn't!" I retort, bridling up with a consan- guineous feeling highly creditable to me, I think, under the circumstances-"he's my grandfather." "I don't care, he would be a beast to whip a dear little girl like you." Athol speaks with a very chivalrous air. "I only wish I was bigger, I'd stick up for you—such a pretty little girl, too. Yes, you are pretty, Mattie,” look- ing at me critically with one of his eyes half closed; “I suppose you know that?" (C 'I didn't," I reply; "but it's nice of you to tell me so, no one else ever did.” "I say it because I think it. Will you give me a kiss, Mattie ?" S How could I refuse after such a compliment? I turn my face up to his-a small brown face with very black eyes and red lips, I know that much-and he gives me a hearty kiss on those lips, and that is how it began; from that kiss, duly returned, sprang the course of our true love which was destined to run anything but smooth. Even now a great rock was just ahead, for as we came out of the wood together in true lover-like fashion, with an arm around each other, we tumbled literally into those of my grand- FORBIDDEN SWEETS Kụ father; at least we might have done so, but that he had only one, and this fact, perhaps, favoured us. With a scream I dodged, threw down my basket, and ran off in one direction while Athol bolted in another. The General shook his fist in impotent rage at Athol, and then gave chase to me. But a young girl with two legs can run faster than an old man with one arm (meaning no disrespect to his misfortune), and I soon put a safe distance between myself and my furious grandfather, whom I heard growling in my wake like a pursuing lion. I flew for my very life, and hid in the yew walks, choosing a good hiding- place, as I fancied, behind something that looked like one of the tombs in the churchyard. It was nearly covered with ivy and thickly surrounded by trees, and there I felt tolerably secure till dusk, when I meant to steal into the house and go to bed without anybody knowing. But after a time I began to get tired of my cramped position, and thought I might safely move about a little to stretch my legs, so ventured forth from my lair. I had no sooner done so than I heard footsteps approach- ing; I scurried back and re-ensconced myself as quickly as possible, and was only just in time, for a moment afterwards my grandfather appeared through the dense phalanx of trees. Shaking like a jelly all the while, I watched him from a convenient peephole. Was he looking for me? How clever of him to think of coming here; he'd make a good player at hide-and-seek. I only wished he would play at it sometimes, but not in this sort of way. He stood staring at the ivy-mantled tomb (I wondered if it could be a tomb, or what?) for several minutes with such a strange look in his face and eyes, very different from his usual expression-softer, and not so like that of an eagle. What did he see? Why was he looking at it so? Then I noticed something glistening on his cheek: a spot 60 ORADLED IN A STORM of rain, perhaps—it couldn't be a tear; I smiled at the thought. Suddenly his glance changed its direction, and fell upon the exact spot where I lay. I knew I should be discovered in a moment; those keen, flashing eyes could see through a wall, I verily believed, and, of course, would penetrate my leafy retreat. Ah, yes, he saw me, sure enough; but it was a protruding piece of my print frock that had betrayed me. I knew that, when too late to draw it back. He took a step nearer, and peered through the evergreens. (( Mattie, is that you? No answer, except from my thumping heart, which was going like a threshing-machine. << Come here, child." It was not the least use skulking any longer; I thought I had better come out and get it over. With quaking bosom I rose, and crept from behind the tomb. Oh, how tall and weird and grisly he looked in the ghostly gloom, like some terrible giant in my story-books. I expected to be annihilated on the spot. But, no! To my surprise he didn't pounce on me, as usual, like a hawk on a sparrow; instead, he took hold of my arm quite gently-for him. All the same, I began to whimper. "So that's where you've been hiding, is it? You naughty, disobedient girl!" he exclaimed, in a tone which did not sound so very angry after all. "Ah, you tremble! No wonder you're frightened. You know what you deserve; but now-stop crying, and I won't flog you this time. I'll forgive you this once, if you promise never to disobey me again. Do you hear?” "> "Ye-es, I p-prom-promise," I replied, with con- vulsive jerks from the sobs which shook my tender frame. Then, to my further and utter amazement, his great gaunt figure came down to my level, and he kissed me- FORBIDDEN SWEETS 61 actually kissed me. I didn't understand it-I couldn't understand it a bit, but I know I felt really penitent at the time, and my heart was very full. I still sobbed on, but no longer from fear; the kind tone and action had sprung a different well in my young breast. "There, there! wipe your eyes, Mattie, and come. indoors with me;" and taking my little hand in his, he led me away from my dusky retreat, and kept me so by his side till we regained the house. After this, I determined to be good and not see Athol Kelso any more if I could help it; a resolution all the harder to keep in this budding time of my child-love, for I was a poor, lonely little creature, with nothing else to care for except the cat; and this perhaps made me rather pre- cocious in my early attachment to Athol. But I did keep my resolution, and he went back to Eton without our meeting again. I fretted about him a good deal, and remembering what he had said, sought consolation during my fits of the "blues" in my looking-glass. For had he not told me I was pretty? and surely he ought to know doubtless he saw plenty of other girls to judge by, whereas I only saw him. I tried to think he was right, and that on this account he would not altogether forget me. Nor did he. ; 62 CRADLED IN A STORM CHAPTER II. MY HIGHLAND LADDIE Oh, ye're a' the warl' to me, lassie! Ye're a' the warl' to me; This heart shall cease to beat for aye, Ere it proves false to thee! Love is like a lamb, and love is like a lion! FOUR years have passed; I am now sweet seventeen instead of a little child, a "big girl," or, as my grand- father is pleased to call me, a "responsible young woman (( "" "" in mind and feelings more matured, and my heart filled with the great treasure which has grown with it. I begin to look upon la grande passion now with a womanly under- standing. I have learnt to conjugate the verb "to love" both in and out of the school-room, taking my lesson with Miss Pridden, my governess, in the one case, and with Athol Kelso, whenever I could, in the other. In short, our "bud of love" has ripened into a "beauteous flower; through many frosts and many obstacles it has come out in triumph a full-blown blossom. To explain this process of development, let me go back for a moment to the time when I made that promise to my grandfather not to meet Athol any more. During the subsequent Christmas holidays I never saw him at all, except at church, and then only peeped at him slyly from under my broad-brimmed hat. This was not at his father's place of worship-the General would not allow even his servants to go there-but at a little picturesque Norman church about a mile off, which we attended regularly, and where Athol knew he would have a chance of seeing me. ""> MY HIGHLAND LADDIE 63. Again at Easter he came home, and we never met, nor was it till late in the following midsummer holidays that we came together once more. But as this was quite by accident, I did not consider I had broken my promise. My grandfather thought otherwise, however, when, as bad luck would have it, he came upon us unawares, and caught me in flagrant delict. It was useless to protest and make ex- cuses, he would believe nothing. It was enough that he saw Athol sneaking away over the bridge, and me standing near it with a face like a damask rose, and trying to look innocent. In the hurricane of his wrath he took me up to the house, and then and there carried out his long-standing threat, and birched me ignominiously. Yes, actually birched me, Mattie Freith, a girl then more than thirteen years of age, as he would have flogged a little school-boy! It was a gross indignity, and I couldn't get over it. I went straightway to Athol the moment I had the chance, crying with rage, and still smarting from the wales on my poor little person. I knew where to find him, as he said he was going fishing by-and-by. With many a sob I told him of my cruel humiliation, and though the announcement was scarcely unexpected, it roused Athol, who declared it was all his fault, to a high pitch of fury. He wanted to go up to the house forthwith, and kick the General's shins till he apologised, and I had much ado to calm him, and prevent him from committing some desperate act to avenge me. After my grandfather had so degraded me by this corporal punishment, I was utterly reckless, and met my boy-lover as often as I possibly could, during his holidays, not in open defiance-there would have been less charm in that but secretly still, which gave special zest to the affair. This sort of thing, however, was not allowed to go on for long. Although my grandfather never caught us again, he 64 CRADLED IN A STORM knew I was acting in down-right rebellion against him, and took his steps accordingly. At the following Christmas he procured a governess, to whom he gave the strictest in- junctions regarding me, and at the same time communicated with Mr. Kelso on his son's disgraceful behaviour in in- citing me to mutiny, which last measure effectually put a stop to our meetings for a time. But Athol Kelso remained staunch to me, and I to him, in face of everything and everybody. Our constancy was the more creditable, since we had very few opportunities of seeing each other during the latter part of those four years, years which had also wrought a great alteration in the appearance of my boy, who, now nineteen, had developed into a strapping young man. I was intensely proud of him. He had long since left Eton and passed into the Royal Military College at Sandhurst. Of late the Rectory had known him only for short, flying visits during vacation´ time, his father preferring him (entirely because of me, I believe) to keep away as much as possible. But on those few occasions when he did come home, I managed, by careful strategy, to keep up the clandestine link between us, and to elude the vigilance of Miss Pridden, who was either not very sharp, or else very good- natured. I suspected the latter, and found, ere long, I was right that she knew of our sly meetings, and, pitying me, had blinked at them. And that brings me to the dénoue- ment of this period of my life at Gaunchester-Haugh, to an incident with which I will close the brief record of those days, the honeyed time of my childhood's stolen romance, very sweet to me, in spite of birch-rods, bread and water, and, latterly, long French lessons, as penance for my sins. Athol had passed his examination for the army, and had been gazetted to the 93rd Highlanders, at that time serving in Bengal. Oh, how I quaked when I knew it! MY HIGHLAND LADDIE 65 The Indian Mutiny had just broken out, and was rapidly swelling into a flood of bloodshed and horrors. I dreaded my lover going to the far East in the very teeth of such perils-as it seemed to me, into the very jaws of death. Before sailing for India, he came home for five days, to bid his parents good-bye and get together his things. There was no time, therefore, to be lost in waiting for a chance meeting with me. I received intimation of his presence on the second day after his arrival, through the medium of a confidential parish school-girl, who managed to slip a note into my hand while I was out walking with Miss Pridden. I lingered behind to pick a flower and read furtively: 'Here I am, back again, dear little Mat, but only on a flying visit, so be at the old spot at four to-morrow, if you wish to see a real Highland warrior in the flesh, and say farewell to "Your faithful lover, << TOL." I loitered till my governess was out of sight round a corner, and then scribbled on the back of the note-I had no other paper, but, luckily, a pencil: << 'Darling boy, of course I will be there, and the old gentleman himself shan't stop me. (Don't be shocked; I only meant my grandfather.) Pray come in uniform; I am dying to see you in it. Don't fail, for it may be my only chance. "Your unhappy sweetheart, "MAT." This precious scrawl I gave to the girl with anxious 66 CRADLED IN A STORM injunctions, and she departed on her way the richer by a munificent twopence, while I hurried forward and rejoined Miss Pridden with as innocent a look on my flushed face as I could muster. Unlike our sex in general, whether in love or out of it, I was very punctual next day at our place of tryst (the skeleton of an old riven elm, standing in the heart of the nut-woods); more than punctual-I was before my time. But I held with Rosalind that "he" (or she-it applied to both, in my opinion) "that will divide a minute into a thousand parts, and break but a part of the thousandth part of a minute in the affairs of love, it may be said of him that Cupid hath clapped him o' the shoulder, but I warrant him heart-whole." my Now old friend the stable clock had struck four at least five minutes ago-and as yet no Athol! However, he presently appeared, and not in uniform. What a shame! I did not mind his breaking that five minutes, but I did think he would have done as I asked him. Stay, though, what is that large bundle he carries? Perhaps that will explain. He at once kissed away the suspicion of a pout on my red lips, and plunged in medias res, i.e., the bundle, which he proceeded to open. "I've brought it, pet, to please you," said he, with just a pardonable little swagger in his tone; "but I couldn't go strutting about here in my war-paint, you know, or the gude folks would think I'd gone mad. I was determined you should see it, though, so here you are," taking the things out proudly, one by one, much to my curiosity and delight, which rose with each article. "There! there's the far-famed bonnet-one of the very identicals that came over the Border. I shan't want it in the gorgeous tropics, by the way; but my outfitter seemed to think otherwise-out- MY HIGHLAND LADDIE 67 fitters generally do, I believe. They are rather particular about your having everything complete at the paternal expense; afterwards, you may become wiser if you choose. Then there's the philibeg, the sporran, and all the rest of the 'pomp and circumstance.' Ain't they stunning? Something like a uniform-eh? I shall look splendid, shan't I?" Words could not express my admiration. "Oh, pray put them on!" I cried feverishly. "Shall I? All right, so I will." I think he rather favoured the suggestion. "You just wait a bit, and I'll go over to the other side of the wood and whip into them in no time." << Oh, can you? Do, there's a dear boy.” << "Very good; but mind, it's no conceit, you know, Mat; it's only just to oblige you.” "Of course, I understand; don't be long.” "I won't be two jiffies" (however long that might mean); and gathering up the things, he runs off with them to his al fresco dressing-room, in a remote corner among the trees. He is certainly marvellously quick in donning that brand-new and rather complicated attire-though I doubt whether he did it inside the "two jiffies" named-and presently, with a shrill "whoop," bounds forth again into view. Oh, he does look perfectly splendid; and with that great ostrich-feather head-piece, as tall as the General! I dance round and round him, clapping my hands for joy. During the last year he has filled out wonderfully, and his figure, though still slight, seems almost burly in the kilt; he has a beautiful pair of legs, too, as I now notice-I can't help looking at them. Ay, he is a bonny lad-a young Apollo-the very beau-ideal of a fine Highland soldier. 68 CRADLED IN A STORM After executing my war-dance I drop into a circular walk, and inspect him closely; this takes some little time. All at once I bethink me of the other side of the picture- the blank canvas which will soon be turned on me- —and then recollect that he is only provided with this handsome dress to go and get killed in it. "Oh, Athol, take it off! take it off! I hate the sight of it all. Oh, I can't bear it. Athol Athol darling! what shall I do without you?" And I fall a-crying on his breast. He tries to soothe me, but I hear how his voice shakes, and take comfort in the thought that he feels it as much as I do. We remain in a sorrowful en brace for some time, exchanging murmured vows of imperishable love and constancy; and though weighted with woe at the immi- nent parting, thus heart to heart we are happy for those sweet, full moments. Had there been any one near to witness our romantic meeting, I think they might have pronounced us a rather picturesque couple-I, standing there with my large straw hat, and thick coal-black hair hanging down my back in wavy masses, and my soldier-boy's arms around me; he, in his historic garb, with his lofty crest, stooping to meet my sad up-turned face. Ha! what's that? A faint rustling among the bushes. brings us down abruptly from heaven to earth. Some one is near--approaching-who? Perhaps my grandfather, prowling about after his errant grandchild! But no, I catch a glimpse of a petticoat through the trees, so it can't be the General, unless he has suddenly taken it into his head to disguise himself as a woman to catch me; and, with all his eccentricity, that's not quite likely. No; instead of his grim face, I am presently relieved to see that of my mild and tolerant gouvernante peeping at us between the boughs. " Oh, it's all right, dear," I whisper, much relieved, in MY HIGHLAND LADDIE 69 Athol's ear; "it's only Miss Pridden. I'll go and talk her over, and introduce you." And this I do far more easily than I expected, and she appears so much impressed with my handsome Highland laddie that she makes but the feeblest attempt to reprimand me for disobedience of orders, and enters into friendly con- versation with him. But all at once she appears to be seized with a panic at her dereliction of duty, and begs us to bid each other farewell as quickly as possible, and get it over, at the same time considerately withdrawing a short distance to look for some particular fern. The further law she grants us is very short, all too short; but this is not to be our good-bye, and as Miss Pridden again draws near, we give each other au revoir instead, with a long, long kiss and a whispered assignation for the morrow. Alas, l'homme propose! But On my way back to the house I thank my kind-hearted governess for her consideration, upon which she confesses her secret sympathy for us, and only hopes it may not get her into trouble with the General. Prophetic words! No sooner did we enter the grounds than I saw my grandfather coming to meet us, with much condescension, as I imagined for the moment; but I was quickly undeceived. He did not even wait to take Miss Pridden apart and speak to her privately, but with a low ironical bow, said: "Madam, allow me to express my appreciation of the very honourable manner in which you have observed the trust I reposed in you regarding my grand-daughter, and- to request that you will find it convenient to leave Gaunchester-Haugh to-morrow as early as possible." Not another word did he vouchsafe her; nor did she, poor woman, venture any remonstrance, her usually pale cheek owning fierily to the betrayal of his confidence. 70 CRADLED IN A STORM Now I could not stand by and see her suffer for my disobedience, so exclaimed impulsively: Oh, grandpa, indeed, indeed it wasn't Miss Pridden's fault. I—I—" He cut me short in a voice of thunder : "Hold your tongue, miss! and go to your room this instant !" (( I burst out crying, not on my own account, but on hers, and, obeying him, went upstairs and threw myself on my bed in a passion of tears. No one came near me that evening. Tealess and supperless I went to bed, and, amid the tempest of my sobs, did not hear the jarring lock of the door as it was turned upon me. Poor Miss Pridden! I never saw her again until long afterwards; sure enough, she went the following morning. She had a married sister living near Kellingsby, with whom she went to stay for a time, and from there wrote me a touching little letter, begging me not to fret on her account, and only hoping that happier days might be in store for me, and that we should meet again. We did, under cir- cumstances far more painful to us both than those attending our parting. Now, who had seen and told? Who had spied upon us in the wood, and then gone up in hot haste to betray us to the General? Who but that horrid old Nathan Slugg? And Nathan it was, as I subsequently learnt. I lay awake half the night crying at what had hap- pened to think that I had lost my poor governess her place—and, worn out at last, slept heavily towards morning. I was roused from my sleep by hearing the grating lock turn in my door; and directly I heard it I understood what it meant. I thought so. Harriet came in with a sphinx- like face and silent as a ghost, to deposit beside my bed a cup of cold water and a plate of dry bread. I knew now Gal MY HIGHLAND LADDIE 71 that I was doomed to two or three days' imprisonment at least; and at the same instant the dreadful thought darted across me that Athol would be gone in that time, and I should have no chance of seeing him even once more to say good-bye. Such a thought maddened me. To-day, at four o'clock, we were to have met again at the old place. He would be there, and finding me not, would know that some- thing had happened to prevent me from keeping my tryst. What would he do? Go again next day, and again be dis- appointed. And then? Oh, surely he wouldn't give it up, and leave without seeing me! No; "what love can do, that dares love attempt," and I felt quite certain he would. make an effort to get at me somehow. For that I waited expectantly, impatiently. Two days dragged their slow length along, and I remained still in durance vile, my poor little body and soul only kept together by that starvation bread and water. Oh, what a hard, cruel man my grandfather was! I began to hate him in my heart, and vowed to do all sorts of desperate deeds when I should get free. Free! And why should I not get free? Was I a helpless fowl to be cooped up here at the top of an old barn, and my lover not six hundred yards away, yet separated from me as effectually as though we were ten thousand miles apart, which indeed we soon should be? I felt distracted and desperate. The third day had drawn to its weary close; the long dusk of the summer evening was deepening into night, and still no sign of Athol. Ah! was it possible that he had gone without making that effort? My heart sank at the idea-I could not believe it. Well, as he did not come to me, I would find some way of going to him. I beat about at my window like a wild bird against the bars of its cage. I was determined to get to him, if I had to leap out into the garden. 72 CRADLED IN A STORM I could understand now the daring of prisoners who so often in the annals of martyrs and criminals have risked life and limb for liberty. My window is rather high, over twenty feet from the ground; but the ivy! Surely I can climb down by the ivy! Whether I can or no, I mean to try. It is not a matter of choice or calculation-it is do or die. I open the window, and clamber out upon the ledge. Just as I do so, I fancy I hear somebody moving in the shrubbery below. I pause to listen. It is nearly dark, for the moon has not yet risen. Ha! yes a cautious whisper, a smothered call reaches me. It is Athol! Nothing can stop me now. I answer back in a low tone : "I hear you look out below! I'm coming! Catch me if I fall!" "No, no, don't, for heaven's sake, Mattie! You'll kill yourself!" he cries in alarm, quite loud enough to betray us if any one is near. "Stop, darling, I'll climb up to you." But this will be bad for him if caught, so I decide quickly. "No, no, you mustn't! I can manage it!" And without more ado I catch hold of the ivy, and commence my descent; but, alas! it fails to support my weight, and I scream out involuntarily as I feel myself falling, falling through the leaves. Then comes a crash-a flashing of stars-and oblivion ! I am stunned, but not for long. I have fallen into my lover's arms, my head striking against his shoulder; and now he is bending over me, in pain himself from the blow. With loving murmurs he tries to woo me back to life, and I hear him groaning in distress. "Oh, Mattie, Mattie, my brave little Mattie! Are you hurt?-are you hurt?" MY HIGHLAND LADDIE 73 B I open my eyes, and whisper faintly : (C No, not much, dear, only shaken-but it's worth it! I would sooner have died than missed seeing you." No bones are broken, I am relieved to find; and, except for a grazed arm and a bump on my forehead, I am none the worse. "You plucky little pet!" Athol exclaims enthu- siastically, snatching me back to his heart. "Now I know how you love me! But you might have killed yourself." Not with you to catch me. you?" CC You did, didn't ፡፡ Yes; but think of the force from that height." "Oh, are you hurt, dear?" I ask anxiously. (( С، Nothing to speak of; and, as you say, it's worth it. So, somebody told?" "Yes; that old wretch Nathan, I believe; and poor Miss Pridden's been sent away." What an awful chouse! Ha! look out, Mattie ! Quick-stoop down! The gleam of a lantern warns us. It comes quickly round a corner of the house, and in our direction. We crouch together in the bushes, close as two Indian spies. Then my heart stands still, as I hear the General's voice challenging like a sentry: "C Who is there?" (C "" A silence. "Who is there? Answer, or I fire Oh, heavens!" I whisper. "Hsh!" from Athol. Another silence-an immensely long one. Every moment I expect to see the flash of the pistol, and perhaps feel the bullet, for that my grandfather is in earnest I make no doubt, and I know he always keeps a great horse-pistol ready to hand in his study. 74 CRADLED IN A STORM The suspense is fearful. There are two figures; some- body is with him carrying the lantern; he is in front, as we can tell from his height. They advance four or five paces towards us. >> "Who is there, I say?" more loudly and sternly. "Do you hear? Answer, or take the consequences." "Oh, Athol!" I cry, with bated, trembling breath. "Hsh! be quiet." "He will shoot." "] 'He daren't!" (( Very well, then, if you won't answer last challenge. "" came the I can bear it no longer. I jump up screaming: "No, no, don't, grandpa, it's only me! Run, Athol." "Blowed if I do-I'll see you through it." He has also risen and stands beside me, a champion at bay. I feel safer, but dreadfully frightened for him. The others draw near, and Scroils flashes the lantern on his face. << 'So it's you, is it, you young blackguard?" exclaims the General, closing towards him threateningly. Athol never flinches an inch. "Yes, it is me," he answers dauntlessly, also rather regardless of grammar, "but no blackguard, if you please." "Then what do you call yourself, pray, to come prowl- ing about a gentleman's house like a thief in the night? Be off with you this instant. We will hear what the magis- trates have to say to this. As for you, you minx! here my grandfather turns upon me with gloating wrath and seizes me roughly by the arm, when, to my horror, Athol interposes and drags me back. "General Crutwell, you shall not touch her," he says. quietly, but with desperate firmness. My grandfather is astounded. "I say you shall not touch her. You, an old "" MY RETURN FROM SCHOOL 75 soldier, and strike a helpless girl! I am a soldier now, and, by G-d, I'll stop you!" The rest of that terrible scene is a confused memory. I see the General raise his bludgeon as if to strike, and Athol, instead of avoiding the threatened blow, spring for- ward from my side. Then I hear a loud smack, a sicken- ing thud, and behold my grandfather lying on his back on the grass, with Scroils kneeling beside him, and my young lover standing staring at him, dazed and scared at what he has done. CHAPTER III. HOW I WAS GREETED ON MY RETURN FROM SCHOOL Ir is a year ago since Athol Kelso felled the General to the ground in my defence. Now my doughty champion is in India fighting the Sepoy rebels under a withering sun, while I am at school at a French convent finishing my education, and fretting my heart out for his safety. The sequel to that eventful evening at Gaunchester- Haugh I may give in a few words. Athol, it appears, confessed to his father what had happened directly he got home, and next morning came a letter of apology to the General from the young ensign. To this the old officer replied in a temperate tone which filled me with agreeable surprise and great thankfulness when I knew of it, for until the crisis was over I had a horrible dread of what would be done to Athol for his assault and trespass, and fully anticipated that my grand- father would visit on his youthful head some terrible re- prisal. But instead of that he behaved in a most moderate 76 CRADLED IN A STORM and magnanimous manner, and showed up in colours more in keeping with the honourable order he had won on the field of battle. Verily, my grandfather was an anomaly, a strange compound character. Before Athol left England he sent me a copy of both his letter and the reply (which I kept as curiosities), with a note from himself saying that he thought the General must be a much better fellow than we gave him credit for being, in fact, Terpaywvòs ävev yoyoû, or in other words, as he kindly explained, a regular brick! In Athol's apology he expressed his sincere regret for his violent act, and wished to add that in the darkness, and heat of the moment, he quite forgot that the General was a cripple with only one arm, or he would never have struck him even in self-defence. But I found further excuse for the apologist in my own mind when I recollected that my grandfather wielded a huge cudgel, which surely made up for the deficiency of an arm. The General's letter was to the effect that he accepted. Athol's apology, and decided to overlook his monstrous behaviour, since it was evident he had been carried away by an excess of chivalric feeling; but he might think himself exceedingly lucky that he (the General) was one who could appreciate pluck and spirit in a youth, although displayed in an outrageously wrong cause. The General went on to say, he did not wish to do anything that might injure a young soldier at the outset of his military career, but trusted that this forbearance would act as a warning against, rather than as an encouragement to, his letting his valour in the future get the better of his discretion towards his superiors in the service. As for myself, he told me quietly on the morning after the fracas that I was quite beyond him, and that he thought we had better part for the present, adding, with amiable sarcasm, that now my lover was going away, and my trust- MY RETURN FROM SCHOOL 77 worthy colleague had gone, he supposed I should hardly find it congenial to remain on at Gaunchester-Haugh alone with him. In this I quite agreed, privately, and was over- joyed to hear that he had decided to send me to school abroad, where, as I say, I have now been for a twelvemonth. It was during the latter part of this term that Lola La Touche appeared upon the scene, and entered into my life, our subsequent friendship having an important bearing upon this story. She was three years older than I, and came to the school in the position of a junior monitress, having been sent thither by her parents (who were poor) to qualify for a governess. They were English people, but Lola was born and brought up in Paris, and had passed all her life there. She was a fine, handsome girl, of splendid physique; some people would have called her massive, others, voluptuous. Her wealth of bronze-brown hair, with a natural ripple in it, she wore coiled on her head in thick braids; when let down it reached nearly to the ground, and reminded me of Haidée's : Her hair's long auburn waves down to her heel Flow'd like an Alpine torrent which the sun Dyes with his morning light--and would conceal Her person if allow'd at large to run. I never think that the best pen-and-ink description can convey a true idea of a person's face, and am sure that any attempt on my part to portray Lola's would be utterly futile. I have said she was handsome; but there was a peculiar charm about her beauty which grew upon you—a charm that cannot be put into words—a charm about the listless, sleepy look in her lovely, velvet-brown eyes, which she kept habitually half closed, and a general languor of expression, which earned from us the sobriquet of loir (dormouse)—a corruption, so to say, of her own name. 78 ORADLED IN A STORM She had the most dazzling white skin I ever saw, a com- plexion so frequently accompanying that rich-tinted hair; full red lips, and a perfect set of teeth, which she displayed a good deal when laughing, though that was seldom, for Lola seemed too lazy to do more than smile. In short, she may be totalled up tersely and exactly in the lines : Somewhat large, and languishing, and lazy, Yet of a beauty that would drive you crazy. But the lethargic look on her face, giving her almost an air of stupidity, belied her strangely, for she was by no means fool; on the contrary, a shrewd, clever, and well-read girl, as I soon discovered; a student of Voltaire, Molière, Montaigne, Rousseau, and the best classical French writers; that is, she had studied them at home under the eyes of her parents, but from the time I knew her at the convent she seemed to show a decided preference for lighter litera- ture, especially French novels of a nature which could be anything but improving to a woman's mind. By chance I dipped into one or two of these, but soon closed them with a blush. When I spoke to her about them, and asked why she wasted her time on such pernicious trash, she smiled in her quiet way, and said she did not see any more harm in the novels than in the daily papers, which everybody read. "Besides, Mattie," she added, "I am a good deal older than you, remember, and have more experience of the world, consequently such books are not calculated to influence ine as they might a very young girl like yourself. If you don't mind, dear, don't peep into them again." I did not require to be asked not to do so. From the little I had read I had no desire to explore further; and notwithstanding Lola's somewhat matronly argument, was sorry in my heart that she should persist in this sort of recreation. However, that by the way. I had no business MY RETURN FROM SCHOOL 79 to criticise her tastes; it was rather hers to take care of mine. Suffice it that I liked Lola. She had a smooth, irresistible way of endearing herself to you, and from liking I grew to love her the acquaintance of a few months ripening into a warm friendship. Very soon after I got to know her we exchanged con- fidences; that is, I told her a good deal about myself and my home, but heard very little in return. She seemed rather reticent as to her own affairs, whereas I was the reverse, quite the gushing little school-girl; but only to Lola, whom I had taken into my young heart, and intended to keep there-if I could. At the graphic description I gave of old Gaunchester-Haugh she was much interested; it roused her to enthusiasm. "Delightful!" she exclaimed, as I finished my picture. Now that is exactly the kind of dear old place I should love to live in; it must be beautiful-romantic and mys- terious. I would give anything to see it." "Why shouldn't you?" I answered at once. "I mean to try to take you back with me when I go. I shall ask my grandfather." "Now what a little dear!" she rejoined, kissing me; "that's a sweet thought of yours-and you could hardly say less after my flagrant fishing, could you? Well, I should like it immensely." "I'm not sure that you would, Loir," I said, with a doubtful smile. CC re Why not?" "Because my grandfather is rather a queer old man, and not easy to get on with—at least, I never found him SO." 'Indeed! Weren't you happy at home, then?" 'Not altogether; yet in one way I was very happy." And this led me to tell her of the great romance of my (C 80 CRADLED IN A STORM life, and draw a still more graphic picture of its hero. Afterwards I often talked to her about Athol; indeed, like most lovers, I am afraid I fell into the fault of boring my friend somewhat about my affaire du cœur. Still, she was very good-natured, and never suffered me to see that I overtaxed her patience. Directly I arrived at the convent, I wrote to Athol in India to give him my address, and since then we had corresponded, though not so regularly as I should have wished, owing to his regiment being in the field, and con- stantly moving about. Some parts of his letters which were most exciting, telling Of hair-breadth 'scapes i' the imminent deadly breach, of marches and counter-marches, hardships and dangers, battles and victories, I read aloud to Lola, and doubtless this relieved the monotonous burden of my song—my daily dose of sentiment and panegyrics regarding him. But to dismiss further mention of my school-days, as more or less uninteresting, and to come to the time, some ten months later, of our leaving the convent together, Lola and I, when I took her home with me to Gaunchester- Haugh, not as a guest, however, but as a finishing governess. This was under an arrangement made with my grandfather, partly on the recommendation of the Lady Superior, partly through my own intervention-an arrangement that suited Lola's shallow pocket, and ensured to me her companionship for a longer time than might otherwise have been the case. As this private tutorage was advocated on the plea of my not having quite finished my studies, I was rather sur- prised that the General should remove me from the convent before I had done so ; but flattered myself on reflection that he must have grown tired of solitude, and welcomed even a renewal of my society as a change. MY RETURN FROM SCHOOL 81 And no doubt this was the case, for with all his rigour and harshness, I believe he did care for me a little, after his fashion. How soon that meagre affection was to be turned into distrust and aversion, and what stirring scenes were in store for us at Gaunchester-Haugh, never, I am sure, entered either into his head or mine to imagine. Early summer-England in her loveliest garb greeted my return from the Continent. It was Lola's first visit to the mother country, and from the time we left Dover, she had been in a quiet trance of delight at the rich, varied landscape of each smiling county through which we passed, so widely different from the hill-less tracts and everlasting rows of poplars we had left behind. When at length the Gaunchester woods loomed in the distance, I pointed them out to her with some little pride, and as we drove up to the house in our open landau, felt that the old place was looking its very best. We rolled over the Norman bridge, and once more I beheld the winding river, which brought a flood of child- hood memories upon me and filled me with sadness, for, alas! how far away now was the dear boy with whom I associated that ancient structure, the river, and each familiar tree along its banks-with the greater sadness just at this time since I had not heard from him for several months. He had not answered my last three letters, and I was full of anxiety and apprehension about him. It never occurred to me to doubt his constancy, or to think that he had suddenly changed. I had far too much faith in his nature. His silence, I was sure, arose from some other cause. What? My heart shrank from the gloomy conjectures which forced themselves upon me. But, with an effort, I put away these tristful thoughts as we pulled up at the hall-door, and entered my grandfather's presence 82 CRADLED IN A STORM with a smiling face. He received me graciously, almost affectionately, and Lola in a courteous manner which agreeably impressed her. We arrived shortly before. dinner, and, as we went upstairs together to our rooms, she remarked: "Why, Mattie dear, your grandfather is very different from what I expected; I thought to find a surly old bear- but he is charming, quite a gentleman of the old school. I am sure I shall get on with him famously." "I hope you will, dear," I replied; "no doubt he can be very pleasant if he pleases, and I dare say I shall find him so now that the apple of discord between us is re- moved." I thought, with a sigh, how much I wished that apple still hung in the home orchards at any cost of domestic harmony. We had not time to unpack, so made no change in our toilettes for dinner, and went down together into the drawing- room a few minutes before the gong sounded. There we found the General awaiting us in scrupulously neat evening dress, as I ever remember him. He rose and came towards us, looking askance, as I fancied, at our travelling attire, upon which I ventured an apology. (C My dear child," he said kindly, laying his hand on my shoulder, “pray make no excuses; I quite understand. Besides, you have no maid to help you-a deficiency, by-the- bye, which we must see about remedying." Dear me, was this my grandfather talking? I could not believe my ears. Truly a most pleasant change seemed to have come over his nature since we parted. Everything used to be conducted on such an economical, I may say parsimonious, scale at Gaunchester-Haugh, as I had good reason to recollect, that the mere suggestion of procuring me a lady's-maid appeared incredible, something too mar- 2 MY RETURN FROM SCHOOL 83 vellous to be true. And I am bound to add, such suggestion remained a chrysalis; it never developed into an act. Presently Scroils announced dinner, and the General led the way into the dining-room, pompously as ever, with Lola on his arm, I following. It seemed strange to find myself once more in that sombre room, with its black- looking panels, watching my grandfather carving cleverly at the meat on his plate with his curved knife (as a child, I used to think this wonderful), and to feel, rather than see or hear, the cat-like Scroils prowling around us in attendance. But somehow, notwithstanding the under- lying sadness about my absent lover, the gloomy atmosphere did not depress me that evening as it used to do when I was a little girl; perhaps because I felt grown up, and no longer stood, or rather sat, in awe of this great modern Timon at the head of the table. Moreover, he conversed with us most condescendingly during dinner, instead of preserving a deathlike silence as was his wont in days of yore, when the only sound audible in that quiet room was the soft jingle of glass and silver, like the tinkling of distant sleigh-bells. Then, as to the dinner itself, here was another vast improvement-soup, fish, and quite a choice of dishes, in place of the exceedingly stingy fare for which Gaunchester-Haugh was once so famous. Added to this, my grandfather actually asked us what wine we would drink-quite the crowning stroke of all! In short, a thorough transformation had taken place. I only hoped it might last. We sat for a long time at the table, owing to the General's leisurely movements, which made dinner very tedious, and the twilight was giving way to darkness before we got up and left the room. It was a lovely night, with a three-quarter moon just 84 CRADLED IN A STORM rising above the black line of the yew woods, so Lola and I sauntered out into the garden together, leaving the General to his calf-skins in the den, whither he had repaired, as usual, from the dining-room. I wanted to take her to some of my beloved haunts, which would now be prettily bespangled with silver gleams; but she shrank from entering the old walks, dark and goblin-like as they looked at that hour, and preferred to explore them in the daytime. I laughed at her for her cowardice; and we wandered round to the other side of the house instead- towards the entrance-gates, through which we passed, and walked a little way down the carriage-drive. We had just turned, and were going back to the garden, when we heard. rapid hoof-beats on the gravel drawing near, and in another few seconds a horseman loomed in sight. He whisked past us like an arrow, as if in great haste to reach the house. The closed gates stopped him, and he was some little time trying to open them; while he was doing so we overtook him. As we came up, he raised his hat, and said, in a breathless, excited manner : "Pardon me, ladies, but can you tell me if General Crutwell is at home?" I answered in the affirmative, wondering who he was, and what could be the matter. From a brief glimpse of him in the moonlight I noticed that his face was of a deathly pallor, and that he had a long black moustache and heavy eyebrows, which gave him a dark, fierce look. "I want to see him immediately," he continued, in the same tone. "May I trouble you?-my horse is so fidgety." He was still endeavouring to unfasten the gates from his saddle. I opened them for him. He raised his hat again and A HIDDEN TERROR 85 thanked me, then passed through quickly, and rode on at a brisk trot. When we got back to the house we found Nathan leading the steaming horse up and down in front, and its rider gone indoors. (C Who is it, Nathan?" I asked.. 'Don't know, miss. He's with the General in his room -something important, I reckon." I was filled with curiosity, and paused for a moment as their voices reached us through the open window of the study. The stranger was speaking in the same excitable, agitated tones we had just heard, the General interrupting with ejaculations as of surprise or alarm. Some extra- ordinary communication was evidently being made to him. "Death and the devil! I'll send for the police im- mediately!" was one sentence I caught from the old man's lips. A quick, eager remonstrance came in reply, and we could hear the ominous words, "God protect you!-too late-shocking murder!- imminent peril!" Then the window was closed with a bang, and we heard no more. CHAPTER IV. A HIDDEN TERROR CURIOSITY at once gave place to fear. What could be the meaning of those terrible words? Lola had heard them and shared my feelings. She stood trembling by my side. Instinctively I threw my arm round her, and we went into the house whispering wonderingly to each other. After 86 CRADLED IN A STORM waiting for a few minutes in the drawing-room, I rang the bell for Scroils. It was answered instead by Harriet. "Oh, Harriet, what is the matter?" I asked anxiously as she came into the room. 'Who is that gentleman with 6 C the General?" "I don't know, miss." "Where is Scroils?" "In the study, miss, with the master." "I'm sure something dreadful has happened! I heard them talking. Who can this man be? Your husband opened the door to him, didn't he?" "Yes, miss, and he said it was a Captain Somebody or other-quite a stranger to him. Ah! they're coming this way, miss." She withdrew at the approach of voices across the hall. Have the ladies come in yet, Scroils?" I heard my grandfather inquire. "I'm not sure, sir." "C "Go and see-request them to do so directly, and then fasten up the house." "We are here, grandpapa," said I, going to the door. "Oh, that's all right, my dear. I thought you were out in the garden still, and-and it's getting late and " damp. His voice sounded very peculiar quite unlike his own. He gave some other direction to Scroils in a low tone, then turning to the stranger, who was standing in the middle of the hall, said: "Will you come in here, Captain Zollern? This is my grand-daughter, Miss Freith." I bowed slightly as they entered the room, and by the lamp-light stole another look at our visitor. He was handsome, beyond question, a very striking-looking man- a foreigner, I imagined, from his black drooping moustache A HIDDEN TERROR 87 and the imperial he wore. But I only just glanced at him, for his eyes met mine directly and made me lower my gaze; moreover, I was thinking little of his looks-those portentous words we had overheard haunted my ears, and I waited with quick-beating heart to know the cause of this unusual visit--in expectancy of some startling revelation. But evidently we were not to be enlightened at present. The remarks that followed were of the most ordinary kind, albeit I could see they were entirely forced. "As this gentleman's business has brought him over here rather late," the General said to me with calm constraint, "I have prevailed upon him to stay the night. with us." Captain Zollern smiled, and murmured that "he was most happy, and that my grandfather was very kind." (C 'I would gladly send for your things," continued the General, "but just at this hour, and being some distance off, I—” ८८ 'Oh, I beg you will not speak of it-I shall manage very well." I presumed he was staying at an hotel in the nearest town; he could scarcely be a resident of the neighbourhood, or Scroils would at least have known him by name. I certainly had never seen him before. My grandfather appeared very restless, and had not sat down since entering the room, but kept walking from one part to another while he spoke. After a few minutes he went to the door, saying: "If you'll excuse me, Captain Zollern, I will leave you with the ladies for a little, as I have something to-" He withdrew without finishing his sentence. Lola and I were alone with our mysterious visitor. His recent excitement, from whatever cause, had somewhat quieted down, while my grandfather seemed still in a perturbed 88 CRADLED IN A STORM state as the result of his visit. Captain Zollern now spoke in a more natural manner, and said politely after the General had gone out: "I believe it was you, Miss Freith, whom I had to thank for opening the gates for me?" I inclined my head. "I feel I owe you ladies an apology for my scant courtesy at the time, but I was rather in a hurry." This gave me an opening, so I replied: "Excuse my asking-I don't wish to appear inquisitive. -but you were excited, agitated, and I could not help overhearing something you said to General Crutwell in his study, which has frightened me. You have come upon some serious matter, sir, have you not? >> Without answering at once, he rose with an air of deliberation, and changed his seat to another chair nearer the sofa, on which we were sitting. After slight hesitation, he rejoined: "I am extremely sorry to have alarmed you. I-I would not do so unnecessarily, but-ar-yes, I must con- fess, it is rather serious. I trust, however, my coming to-night may have averted-ar-any danger." "Danger! To whom? Pray explain." I put the question quickly, almost imperiously. "C 'Forgive me. I-I cannot say more at this moment.” Hitherto Lola had remained silent, still as a statue, white to the lips, and with her beautiful eyes widely opened. "But what kind of danger?" she now asked timorously; surely we may know that to know the worst, and be prepared for it, would be infinitely preferable to this uncom- fortable mystery. I shall be quite afraid to go to bed to-night." << "Oh, you need not be. I-I think there is little likelihood of your being disturbed" A HIDDEN TERROR 89 • "But I am afraid. I feel thoroughly worked up into at state of nervous dread," she exclaimed, rising from the sofa. abruptly and crossing the room. "Pray don't keep us in this uncertainty; such feeble reassurances are calculated to terrify us ten times more." "Ladies, believe me, I would willingly enlighten you at once if I could," he remonstrated politely, "but I am bound in confidence not to do so-that is, my lips are sealed for to-night; but," in a quieting tone, "pray be patient; ere long you will doubtless know all, and—and understand." Well, I suppose it is useless to press you further," Lola replied, coming back to the sofa, "and we must con- tinue in unblissful ignorance. Plaisant, n'est-ce pas, ma chère?" turning to me with a smile, and shrugging her shoulders like a Frenchwoman. "I scarcely anticipated such a reception on my very first evening in England." << "Indeed! you have just returned from abroad?" he inquired, as if glad to change the conversation. "I can hardly say 'returned,' for I have never been in England before. This is my first visit. Miss Freith and I only came over from the Continent to-day." Ah! and you arrived this evening, too?" he exclaimed, looking at me as if in surprise; adding in an undertone, "how very strange!" r "C Why is it very strange?" I asked, wondering what he meant; then explanatorily, "but it is not my first visit ; this is my home; I am General Crutwell's grand-daughter, as you heard. I have been away at a French school for the last two years." Exactly; I see. Well, no doubt you are glad to get back again." " 'Under other circumstances I might be, but I am not sure that I feel particularly jovial at the prospect of being murdered in my bed directly I return," I answered, with (( 90 ORADLED IN A STORM grim humour, "for that's what all this mysterious alarm seems to portend." tr "Oh, pray don't talk in that way, Miss Freith," he rejoined, in a quick, deprecating tone, "pray don't imagine anything so dreadful. I-I am truly grieved to be the indirect cause of your uneasiness; I certainly shouldn't have told you anything to raise a panic. I am only sorry you overheard what you did." He might have intended to allay our fears, but his manner, and the way in which he spoke, were far from having that effect. Presently he rose from his chair with a slight shiver, and turned to the window, which was partly opened. "Don't you feel the night air rather chilly?" he said. "Will you allow me to close this? "Thank you, perhaps it would be wiser." "I think so-much wiser." "" He said it in a marked tone, as he went to the window. He was in the act of shutting it, but suddenly stopped, and opening it instead still wider, leant head and shoulders out into the shimmering moonlight. He remained in this position for several seconds, as if listening intently. Lola and I looked at each other, but without speaking. Now I cannot explain the how or the why, but there was that in his manner and action so significant, yet unaccount- able, such a creepiness about him-to use a modern mongrelism that I felt my blood turn to icy rivulets-I could not bear it. I jumped up from the sofa, exclaiming: "What is it? What do you hear?" Lola seized my arm, and held it fast. He made no answer. Again I asked: "What is it you hear? What are you listening like that for?" He lifted up his hand to hush me, and, after another pause, drew back into the room, and shut the window A HIDDEN TERROR 91 quickly. As he turned towards us I thought his face had grown paler-more deadly pale even than before; this might have been fancy, my feelings were much wrought upon; but most certainly he was in a state of painful apprehension from some inexplicable cause. "It's nothing, it's nothing," he observed carelessly. "I merely thought I heard a noise outside, a rather peculiar sound; but no doubt I was mistaken." He rose, crossed to the door, and came back again. "How long do you think the General will be?" he asked. "I really can't say."-I answered him rather snappishly. “And what time do you ladies think of retiring?" "Not at all," I returned as abruptly. "Good gracious! You cannot suppose we could go to bed and sleep, frightened out of our wits as we are by all this mystery? For mercy's sake, sir, tell me, what is the matter? What is the danger?" "Don't press me to-night, I beg of you; by-and-by you shall know more-all. As I have said, the danger is guarded against. Let me persuade you now to go to bed, ladies, and rest yourselves after your long journey. You will be safe-quite safe." His words sounded like mockery; tired though we were, we well knew that neither of us would close an eye that night. My grandfather now came back into the room. Captain Zollern was near the door as he opened it, and mur- mured something to him in a low tone, whereat the General started, and exchanging a significant glance with his visitor, urged also that we must surely be fatigued from travelling, and begged us to retire. I saw he was in no mood to be communicative, so abstained from questioning him, and, after a little while, went upstairs with Lola, though not to bed. As we said good night, Captain Zollern held out his hand, but I drew back and bowed coldly. It was a strange 92 CRADLED IN A STORM impulse I could not quite understand it; for the man had tried to convey to us that his presence was a sort of safeguard. Yet I did not feel this. Some powerful instinct told me that he was not here as a friend, and that his coming boded us no good. I took Lola to my room. Of course we never thought of parting company for that night, and agreed to sit up together and improve the occasion by unpacking. We were glad of that occupation, but all the while could only think and talk of the one subject-of this handsome stranger and the alarm he had given us. We exchanged various conjectures as to the cause of his mys- terious visit, but ended in being as much mystified as ever It was the indefinite, the unexplained, that so enhanced our feelings of dread and apprehension. Present fears are less than horrible imaginings. r "I am afraid this will give you a bad impression of my home, Loir," I said apologetically, "to be terrified in such a way the moment you come into it. I am so sorry, dear; it's enough to make you feel nervous ever afterwards in the old place." << Oh, no; I shall soon get over it," she replied quietly. "Besides, there may be nothing, after all, to be frightened at; it's silly to get upon wires and fancy the worst. The man said there was no danger; doubtless we shall have an explanation in the morning. 19 "I suppose so. I hope we shall.” "But we may get it before then.” "How?" "I mean something may happen in the night to solve the mystery." "Good gracious! What do you think will happen, Lola?" "Of course I haven't the least idea, but I am quite sure A HIDDEN TERROR 93 that that Captain Zollern, from his manner, anticipates something, and so does General Crutwell." I was sure of that also. Now, I am not naturally a coward—perhaps my nerves are stronger than most girls'- but on this occasion they were thoroughly unstrung, and I may honestly confess that in all my life I never felt more cowed and timid than I did throughout that night of suspense, with this unknown spirit of evil-this cacodemon of imagined peril-hovering over us. And our old house was just such a ghostly, rambling building as might be chosen for the scene of some uncanny legend. We finished our unpacking at length, and taking off our travelling-dresses, etc., put on our dressing-gowns; then, to further pass the time, Lola took down her beautiful hair, which I brushed out for her in front of the glass, as I often used to do at school. While so engaged we conversed in undertones, but every now and then paused to listen at the slightest noise that disturbed the midnight quiet. Happily it was summer, and dawn would soon come to our relief; it would have been far worse to have kept broad vigil on the tenterhooks of terror throughout the long hours of a winter night. Towards morning a breeze sprang up, and soughed through the tops of the lofty elms which swayed to and fro around the mansion. It was pleasant to hear it-it was company; but at the same time as it grew in strength it gave extra food to our worked-up imaginations, and mingled wildest fancies with tamest facts in the subdued chaos of sounds. Amid the methodical cracks and creaks of the rickety doors, windows, and furniture, and the incompre- hensible thumps and thuds at intervals, now close by, now afar off, which one hears at night when the wind is playing about the house, we imagined every minute something suspicious, some stealthy sign, such as a whisper just out- 94 CRADLED IN A STORM side, the soft step of a person prowling along the passage, the cautious opening and shutting of a distant door-in fact, a hundred timorous fancies all gravitating towards one point, a solution of the mystery which so exercised our brains. But they were not all fancies; others besides our- selves were on the watch and listening-restless spirits moving about the building in "the silent dead of night." Once or twice in the small hours I heard and recognised with quite a feeling of relief the substantial, unmuffled tread of my grandfather in an adjoining corridor, by which I knew that he, at all events, had not yet gone to bed. At last the pale gray of morning crept into the room, and as it gradually grew lighter we regained confidence. By now both Lola's eyes and mine were beginning to draw straws, for we were quite worn out, and longing to get into bed, so I suggested drowsily that we should do so. But ere we could summon even energy enough to carry out the intention, we dozed off where we were-Lola on the sofa, I in an arm-chair. Mine, however, was a dog's sleep, and in my half-waking dreams I continually heard footsteps pacing the gravel path below, and men's voices. I opened my eyes, and heard them still. It was now broad daylight. I went to the window, and, peeping out from behind the blind, saw my grandfather and Captain Zollern walking up and down underneath. So nothing had happened after all! Ap- parently nothing. What the danger really was to which we had been exposed was not revealed to me until some time afterwards, and then only in strictest confidence. The vague terrors of the night evaporated under the bright morning sun, and I felt secure. I looked at the time; it was only a quarter past five-much too early to begin the day, dead tired as I was. Lola was still slumber- ing peacefully upon the sofa. It seemed a pity to disturb ▲ DOUBTFUL EXPLANATION 95 her, but she would be more comfortable in bed, so I woke her up; and, slipping off our things, we turned into the cool, grateful sheets together, and in less than another two minutes were both fast locked in sleep. CHAPTER V. (C A DOUBTFUL EXPLANATION TWELVE o'clock was striking when I awoke. I looked round the room, puzzled at first to know where I was, and with a vague impression of having been visited by some horrible nightmare. But a glance at Lola's sleeping form beside me brought back directly the sensation of the pre- vious evening, and I understood why I felt so half rested, as if I had only come home from a ball a couple of hours. ago. But a cold bath soon put me all right, as it did Lola, who seemed more refreshed by her morning's sleep, and we went downstairs together at luncheon-time. The gong had sounded about five minutes when we entered the dining-room, where we found the General and Captain Zollern already seated at the table. I was rather surprised that the man had not left before now, but no doubt he was waiting to see us and tender some explanation ere he took his departure. In this I was mistaken. Good morning, Miss La Touche," said my grandfather, rising graciously and shaking hands with her; "morning, Mattie, my dear," and he kissed me. “ I must remind you that time and tide, and the rules of Gaunchester-Haugh, wait for no man- or lady either. As you did not come down to breakfast, I didn't know whether to expect you at 96 CRADLED IN A STORM luncheon. Harriet told me you were both fast asleep, so I would not have you wakened; I knew you would be tired after travelling. "" "Yes, we were very tired, grandpapa," I replied, adding drily, "but neither Miss La Touche nor I closed our eyes till five this morning." Here I threw a semi-reproachful glance at our foreign- looking friend opposite, to whom we both bowed distantly and took our places at the table. He smiled pleasantly, and murmured something about being "extremely sorry to hear of our sleepless night." p 'Never closed your eyes till five o'clock! How was that, Mattie?" said the General. "I think you need scarcely ask, grandpapa; if I mis- take not, you didn't go to bed at all.” "" "You are quite right, I did not. "" Well, since the danger, I presume, is now passed-if there was any-will you kindly enlighten us as to what all that alarm meant last night?" (( - "Certainly, you shall know. May I give you some of this hashed duck, Miss La Touche, or will you have some cold lamb?" + "" Some lamb, if you please. Captain Zollern cut some, and as he handed it to Lola I saw him gazing very searchingly and admiringly at her soft, dreamy face. She looked particularly handsome this morning, notwithstanding our dissipated hours-her wavy bronze hair carelessly done up, with tiny truant curls toying with her Parian-white neck, her dress a narrowly striped muslin, unmistakably Parisian in make. I felt rather insignificant beside her; I always did, but used to console myself with the gross flattery of some of my schoolfellows who averred that I was the better-looking of the two, and called me, jocularly, la belle de couvent. I did not believe A DOUBTFUL EXPLANATION 97 them, but I also recollected what Athol had said many a time, and began to think there must be something in my looks after all, despite my grandfather's very opposite opinion. He often used to go out of his way, I considered, to tell me what a particularly plain girl I was. No doubt he was very right, and had his reasons; I suppose he wished to make me unconceited and lowly-minded. However, on the strength of Athol's better opinion and that of my school flatterers, I am tempted to describe myself, though I well know any such self-description, however truthful, must appear more or less vain. But this is an age of self-advertising, and if I modestly abstain from giving you my portrait now, I don't quite see who else is going to do so at this period of the narrative. Therefore, with all apologies to the great guns of art and canons of good taste, here goes à l'avertisse- ment. Height, five feet four and a half; figure, slight and graceful; hands and feet, small; hair, raven-black, and plenty of it; eyes, also black, large, and liquid; brow, rather broad and square; nose, straight and thin, like my grand- father's; mouth, elastic, with rose-red lips-in repose small, in laughter wide, as though proud of the ivories in- side; complexion, a rich mingling of carnation and palest olive (en passant, that's a quotation-I heard somebody else call it so, and I cannot think of any other colouring to describe my skin). Altogether, may I say a tolerably pretty girl of the brunette type? I also wore a gossamer frock, like Lola's, but younger in the make and not quite so artistic. And there I am before you. Now, Mattie, you are eating nothing," said my grand- father. "And considering you have had no breakfast" (( "I am waiting to hear about last night, sir. I really cannot eat till you tell me "" (( Can't you, indeed? What, does your curiosity take away your appetite ?” 98 ORADLED IN A STORM "It gives me too much food for reflection, which is the same thing. I can think of nothing else till I know; pray tell me. (C All in good time," returned the old man provokingly; "have patience, my dear, and eat your luncheon. Your curiosity is equally great, I presume, Miss La Touche ?" I am afraid it is, sir," replied Lola, smiling; "“but I do not let it come between me and my commissariat. I felt nearly famished just now. (( "" "I am sure you must have done so after your long fast. Ah, I see you are a sensible young lady. Let me recom- mend you that salad." "Allow me, Miss La Touche." Captain Zollern helped her to some, and again I caught him scrutinising, almost gloating, over her sweet face and splendid figure. He was evidently much struck with her. Perhaps he had been so on the previous evening, but if he had, I was then too much preoccupied and excited to notice it. I now took a more careful survey of him. No, he certainly did not look like an Englishman. Nor was he one, as I ascertained, but a Hungarian-an ex-officer of the Austrian army. His foreign accent, however, was very slight, scarcely per- ceptible. I have already said that he was handsome; but the more I saw of his face, the less I liked it. It was a sly, cunning cast of countenance; and though I am no physiognomist, I could imagine him, from his eyes and the cut of his mouth, to be capable of cruelty. He had peculiar eyes, of a hard gray colour, which shifted from yours as you met them and if you persevered in your look, yet seemed to be still keeping you under their focus in a side-glance; crafty eyes, which appeared to betray a spirit lurking within widely at variance with that conveyed by the outer bonhomie of his manner. He looked rather older by day than by night, for I observed that his black ➡ • A DOUBTFUL EXPLANATION 99 moustache and imperial were slightly touched with gray; but not so his close-cut hair. I caught him gazing at me, as well as at Lola, several times during luncheon with a queer, inquiring look, as if he could not quite make me out-altogether different from the ardent expression, as of admiration, which he bestowed upon her. I felt inclined to resent this staring propensity of his, and gave him back once a very severe, haughty glare, with which I meant to freeze him up, as our Transatlantic cousins say. But it failed in its impression, for I caught him distinctly smiling, under cover of his heavy moustache, and this made me turn quite hot and angry. Meanwhile my affected non-appetite (for I was in reality hungry) did not appear to hurry my grandfather in gratifying our curiosity, so I paid more attention to the luncheon, and finished my plate of hashed duck ere I ventured again to press him. "Now, grandpapa, what is this great mystery?" said I at length. "See, I have eaten to oblige you, so oblige me in return.' "" "Well, well, it is no great mystery after all," he replied, though with some hesitation. "The fact is, Captain Zollern got to know by accident of a daring scheme for breaking into this house last night-by a-a notorious character; of a proposed burglary, in short. But don't be alarmed; all precautions have been taken. Forewarned is forearmed, and, thanks to Captain Zollern, we are quite ready to receive the miscreant or miscreants whenever they like to come. We owe this gentleman a great debt of gratitude for his kindness in riding over last night on purpose to put us on our guard." "Oh, not at all, General Crutwell; surely any man would have done the same," modestly protested Captain Zollern. "I am only glad if my coming was of service; it 100 CRADLED IN A STORM rather seems as if our burglaring friends had got wind of it, and so left you alone.” "It does; yes, it certainly does look like it." "But won't they wait and come another night?" said I. "They may; of course there's no telling," said my grand- father; "but they'll find us on the alert if they do. You young ladies need not be afraid, I have given notice to the police, and taken other precautionary steps. Moreover, this gentleman is kind enough to stay on with us for two or three days in case of anything arising. Oh, by-the-bye, Captain Zollern, I mustn't forget to send a man over for your things." << Thank you, General Crutwell; I am only sorry to give that trouble." Now up to this point I had been taken in, and believed what they told us, but suddenly my quick eyes detected another half-concealed smile on our visitor's face. He was staring steadily down into his plate while the General was speaking, but neither the attitude nor the mask of his large moustache could altogether hide that smile. I knew directly they were deceiving us for some inscrutable reason, and felt puzzled, indignant. This cock-and-bull story about burglars was all a blind. I thought their remarks did not sound very natural-there was not a true ring about them-they were not genuine. If it had been no more than a contemplated attack of house-breakers, why should this Captain Zollern have betrayed such abject nervousness about the matter last night, unless he were the most arrant coward that ever wore a sword? Why should he show such fear and agitation on our account, who were not even casual acquaintances of his? It was altogether preposterous; I dismissed the explanation with contempt, and rather electrified my grandfather by my candour. 2 ▲ DOUBTFUL EXPLANATION 101 "Excuse me," I said coolly, "but what you have told us is not true.' "What do you mean, Mattie? How dare you!" ex- claimed the General. I saw him flush; from anger or consciousness? The latter, I think. "I repeat that this tale of burglars is not true, or, to put it more delicately, utter bosh-got up to deceive us. The cause of all that trepidation and mystification last night had nothing to do with house-breakers." "You are very shrewd, Miss Mattie, exceedingly shrewd," said my grandfather, with lofty severity; "but you don't seem to have improved much in manners from your residence abroad. I will thank you to conduct your- self like a lady in my house." This, before a stranger, was too much, and again I saw Captain Zollern smiling. I turned scarlet, and half rose from the table. "There, there, sit down, my dear"—the General extended his bony hand over my head, as though he would double me up like an indiarubber Jack-in-the-box-"we need not argue the point. You asked for an explanation, and I gave you one; accept it or not, as you please." There was no more to be said. I held my tongue, and shortly afterwards we adjourned from the dining-room. I was not convinced far from it but considerably perplexed; and found on consulting Lola that she thought, as I did, that there was something behind all this-some- thing which my grandfather and Captain Zollern were keeping dark. *** That latter gentleman extended his visit to five days, and, although he made himself extremely agreeable to us girls, and never lost an opportunity of cultivating our society, especially Lola's, I could not get over the first feelings of awe and antipathy wherewith he had inspired 102 CRADLED IN A STORM The cloud of mystery in which he had so suddenly descended into our midst had not yet been dispelled satis- factorily, and, until it was, my distrust would survive. But he never swerved from the original explanation, although I pressed him on the subject. Each night we took due precautions against any possible visit from these supposed gentlemen of the mask and "jemmy;" but as familiarity breeds contempt, so each night we girls thought less of the danger of any attack, and each night strengthened our doubt as to the likelihood of any such event. At length Captain Zollern took his departure. He had evidently ingratiated himself to an unusual extent with my adamant relative, for I heard the old man pressing him to renew his visit as soon as possible. Captain Zollern, how- ever, feared that he should not be able to avail himself of this invitation, as he expected to be returning shortly to his native land. But should anything unforeseen arise in the meanwhile, he added significantly, he would come down again to Gaunchester-Haugh at once and without fail. This promise seemed to gratify my grandfather, and he let him go with that understanding. me. CHAPTER VI. HOW I RESORT TO STRATAGEM TO RELIEVE MY MIND ALTHOUGH these first few days after my return from abroad had been filled up, so to speak, by a certain amount of excitement and novelty, which tended to relieve depression, I never forgot for a moment the one absorbing interest of my life. My thoughts were ever taking flight to the land I RESORT TO STRATAGEM 103 of Ind, my anxiety ever on the increase about Athol, of whom I had had no tidings for so long. Oh, what had happened to my boy? Was he ill? Or-dreadful thought! -had he fallen at last in one of those fierce, unequal struggles with a savage foe? Such thought was torture-I could not bear to dwell upon it; nor could I tolerate this painful suspense for another day. I must find out about him at once. But how? With this feudal barrier separating our house from the parsonage, I could not possibly go straight up to the latter and make my inquiries. No; I must devise a little stratagem. I must see Mr. Kelso him- self without delay. There was no one else to ask, except the servants, whom I could not get at; Mrs. Kelso was an invalid, confined to the house; and Athol, like me, was an only child, with no convenient brothers and sisters to help one at such a time. The old Scotchman, therefore, was my only chance. He had not seen me since I went to school in France, and before that seldom and generally at a distance, so I thought he would be very unlikely to recog- nise me now. My idea, then, was to go to his church next Sunday with Lola, to waylay him after the service, and get into conversation with him about his sermon. JË To-day was Saturday-it must be to-morrow-so at dinner that night I blurted out in an offhand manner: "Oh, by-the-bye, grandpapa, do you mind my going to Chepslow Church to-morrow morning with Miss La Touche?" He looked at me in surprise, and answered shortly: "I would rather you didn't- why?" "Because we want to hear Mr. Kelso preach." "Indeed! I think you will do very well without. Tollingham Church is only half-a-mile further off, and the man you will hear there is a good man and a true Christian." 104 ORADLED IN A STORM "So everybody says of Mr. Kelso, grandpapa," I ventured. "I don't wish to hear what everybody says," returned the General curtly, "I-I am not governed by public opinion. Please to change the subject." But I was no longer a baby to be snubbed in this sort of manner, and continued, after a minute, knowing all the while that I was coaxing up a storm ; "Well, whatever he may be, grandpapa, we are both anxious to hear him preach, so I hope you won't mind sinking your prejudice for once in a way." "Don't presume to talk to me about my prejudices, young lady," was the crushing retort; "you forget your- self, I think. I say I shall not give my approval to your going to that church. You can do as you please about it, but if you choose to go, understand me, it will be entirely against my wishes." This was meant to be a finisher, and I pretended to collapse. ،، Very well, grandpapa," I replied meekly, with a sigh as of resignation; then, in a tone of mild argument, "but surely little Mr. Lectern's preaching is a very poor sub- stitute-not to be compared with Mr. Kelso's___” (C What do you know about it? You have never heard the other man. Mr. Lectern may not give you such a flashy, theatrical sermon, but, take my word for it, there will be more truth and godliness in it. However, let all that be as it may, you know my objections, that is enough. And let me request you, Mattie, never to bring Mr. Kelso's name up again at my table or in my house; it is not very good taste on your part to do so, but-perhaps you have forgotten; be good enough to recollect in future. I stole a glance at Lola, and saw by the expression on her face that she was beginning to understand what I meant when I told her about my grandfather's peculiarities "" I RESORT TO STRATAGEM 105 Now what was I to do? I was bent upon seeing Mr. Kelso as soon as possible, even if I did not attend his church, and the one act would be just as seditious as the other in the eyes of my grandfather, therefore I thought we might as well go. Accordingly, after a little trouble, I over-persuaded Lola, and we did go, leaving it to chance whether the General discovered the fact or not. After the service we loitered in the churchyard, reading the inscriptions on the tombstones near the vestry-door, until Mr. Kelso came out. Then Lola, as planned, seized her opportunity and appealed to him as pastor of the parish to give her certain information about one Eliza Sparks, who lay beneath a stone, the epitaph on which we were then deciphering. It was old and weather-beaten, and had been put up long before Mr. Kelso's time. He could not give her the information. "You are strangers here, I think," he said, speaking with a Scotch accent, and looking at us inquiringly; cr at least I have niver had the pleesure of seeing ye in my church before." That was a relief anyway. Then he did not know me. But I hardly expected he would. "Yes, we are," replied Lola, with a little economy of the truth. "And as strangers will you permit us to offer a tribute of praise-an expression of thanks for the beauti- ful sermon we have just heard?". He looked pleased. "I am glad ye liked it," he said. "I endeavour to be plain and understood; but I'm no so sure that I always succeed. They tell me I go over the heads of my congrega- tion, which is vary likely, for they're puir, simple-minded folks hereaboots. Ech, it's a treat, I assure ye, to see fresh and intelligent faces like yours under my pulpit." We acknowledged the point-blank compliment by a smile. 106 CRADLED IN A STORM · I could not help thinking, as I looked at the square- shouldered old parson before me, what a strong contrast there was between him and his son-between the tall, handsome Athol, with his aristocratic face and figure, and the rather squabby, coarse-looking old man, his father. Mr. Kelso was quite the typical Hielander, with a much be-freckled face, light red hair and whiskers-in which "silver threads among the gold" now predominated-large bony hands, also freckled (he wore no gloves), and broad, angular frame, the great width of his shoulders detracting from his height. There was a humorous look in his pale- blue eye, with its invisible lashes-a kindly twinkle, which softened his features. When he turned to speak to Lola I searched his face, and fancied I saw in it other signs of the milk of human kindness which I was glad to find there. "I was much struck by your earnest allusion to our poor soldiers in the far East, Mr. Kelso," I said presently, with enforced composure. "It is indeed a dreadful time for them. Have you any relations in India?" • "I have one, yes-my son is in the Ninety-thard." "I trust he was well when you last heard?” " 'I canna say that exactly, for he has been vary near goin' over to the majority, poor lad—at death's door, they tell me." I gave a gasp-a start. Mr. Kelso looked at me. He saw the effect of his words, but perhaps attributed it only to a natural womanly feeling of mine on hearing of a fellow- creature's sufferings. "He got badly wounded," he went on to say, "some four months back, in a wee bit skir-rmish, after having got free through mony a big battle. Niver a line have we had since, except from the adjutant of the regiment, joost to tell us that he was still alive and goin' on as well as could be expected." I RESORT TO STRATAGEM 107 Ah! now I understood; it was as I dreaded; he had been wounded, near to his death-sick and in lingering pain. My poor darling! But, thank God, he was still spared. "( Then he is better-he is recovering?" I asked, with a superhuman effort to hide my anxiety. Nevertheless, my voice trembled; I felt I was fast betraying myself. "He is, I am thankful to say," replied Mr. Kelso, again looking at me rather narrowly, "and, please heaven, he'll be coming home on sick leave in a few weeks' time." He paused, then inquired, rather abruptly: "Pardon me, but whom have I the pleasure of "Miss La Touche," said Lola, coming to my rescue. "And your name, may I ask?" turning to her as she spoke. "" "That is mine." "What! ye're sisters, then?" Lola bowed and smiled equivocally. Nay, surely that's not so. ladies more deefferent in looks." (( I niver saw two young My cheeks were all ablaze. I felt them glowing like red-hot coals. To stand on that sacred ground and act a lie, even though we did not utter one, to the very clergy- man himself, made me blush fiercely. Lola coloured also. Between the tell-tale cheeks of us both we roused his suspicions. "You'll excuse me," he said, with a shrewd glance, "but ye're no sisters." (( Well, no-not exactly," Lola admitted. "I merely meant to say "" "Sisters-in-law, perhaps?" This was getting awkward. We both shunned a deliberate falsehood, and saw that the old Scotchman meant to find out who we were. 108 CRADLED IN A STORM 4 "And are ye staying in the neighbourhood?" he con- tinued, taking another forced smile as an answer to his last query; "or did ye drive over to church from Kellingsby?" He was now staring hard at my peony countenance. I managed to answer collectedly : "We are staying near here." "C Yes, vary near, I ken; joost over the water, if I am not mistaken," tossing his thumb at the river. "Ah, yes— yes-to be sure-I'm much obliged to ye, Miss Freith, for your kind inquiries aboot my son." I felt it was coming. (C I didn't know ye at fir-rst, and ye've grown since ye went abroad. Um-it is long since I had the pleasure of seeing ony one from Gaunchester-Haugh inside my church. Your grandfather is well, I hope?" "Quite well, I thank you." A pause. << "And so ye've not forgotten the lad?" with another shrewd look into my face. 'Aweel, he'll soon be with us again now. He was but a raw chap when he went away, but 'home-keepin' youth hath iver homely wits.' Let us hope travelling and soldiering have improved him, and knocked all the nonsense out of his noddle. Ye know what I mean! Well, our meeting to-day is an accident, of course, but I'm glad to have seen ye, and looking so well. Good morning, good morning." He held out his great hand, and I shook it feebly, though I felt inclined to give it a good squeeze, in gratitude for his information; then, with a snatch at his shovel-hat, he went on his way and left us both looking rather foolish, I am afraid-me, at any rate. "What a queer old man, Mattie !" said Lola laugh- ingly, as soon as the parson was out of earshot. "But he's sharp enough-he saw we did it on purpose. Do you think he'll tell the General?" "I don't know," I answered absently, and with my I RESORT TO STRATAGEM 109 large black eyes staring into space, where I beheld my winsome lover lying prostrate with suffering and looking, oh, so wan and wasted from his former self. "I do hope he won't," Lola continued. "I cannot help it if he does," I said, still too much preoccupied with thoughts of Athol to give other matters. due consideration. "I have found out what I wanted, and my mind is easier.” And that's all you care about, Miss Mattie !" returned Lola, in some surprise- no wonder! "Think what trouble. I shall get into as your female mentor if your grandfather hears of this." (( << Ah, true, I forgot, dear; pray forgive me," I exclaimed quickly, now coming to myself. "But I'll take all the blame; you slan't suffer." Though I said this, I didn't feel at all confident that my assurance was worth very much; and the memory of poor Miss Pridden's abrupt dismissal flashed across me most uncomfortably. I reproached myself for my selfish- ness, and only hoped I might not lose Lola in the same way through my wayward indiscretion. My feeling of thankfulness in having gleaned, or rather filched this intelligence about Athol, was, therefore, much qualified by one of apprehension lest my grandfather should find out what I had done-that he should detect me repeating the wilful acts of my childhood immediately I came back to his roof. I was considerably relieved, then, on our return from Chepslow Church, at his asking no questions, and appearing to accept it as a matter of course that we had been to Tollingham instead. 110 CRADLED IN A STORM CHAPTER VII. THE MORNING MAIL A FEW mornings afterwards brought us an eventful post. I came down to the breakfast-table as my grandfather was rummaging the letter-bag, and just when he had extracted from its leathern depths a black-edged letter addressed to himself, and sealed with a large black seal. This letter evidently excited his curiosity, for he at once fixed his gold- rimmed glasses on his nose and looked closely at the writing. Without waiting to take out the rest of the morning's budget, he broke the seal and read. I watched his face while he did so, and gathered from its expression that the contents of that black-bordered sheet were of con- siderable importance. He read it quickly at a first glance, and started up from his chair with an exclamation, whether of surprise or emotion I could hardly tell. Then he went to the window and read it again more deliberately. My curiosity, in turn, was aroused by his manner, and I wondered whom the letter was from. It was probably to announce somebody's death. Whose? Poor Aunt Anna's, perhaps; he had no other relative or friend in the world that I knew of. .. 'Any bad news, grandpapa?" I ventured to ask. He took no notice of the question, but remained up by the window staring at the sheet in his hand with a look on his face which I now saw was one of anything but sorrow, rather of relief or satisfaction. Perhaps some one had un- expectedly left him a thumping legacy. I could think of no other explanation of that serene, satisfied look. "No bad news, grandpapa, I hope?" I ventured again, laying stress on the "bad." THE MORNING MAIL 111 "Eh, what, Mattie ?" I had roused him from his pre- occupation at last. "Bad news?--Well, no, not exactly -ehem—that is, something rather sudden; but not about anybody you know-nothing you would under- stand." Then it was a legacy. I thought as much. (c May I look if there is anything for me, grandpapa?” "Certainly." I did so, while he still stood at the window, with his back towards me. This was rather lucky, for the very next letter I pulled out was one from India, forwarded from the convent—a letter for me at last from Athol. I say it was lucky, because though I had looked and longed to hear from my soldier-lover, I rather dreaded a revival of hostilities between myself and the General, when he should discover that Athol and I corresponded. The strength of my love, and the strength of the old man's opposition, drove me to deception and underhand proceedings. And here I had a chance of keeping things quiet yet a little longer, by slipping the letter into my pocket unobserved. I just did this in time, for my grandfather now came back from the window and took his seat again at the table. "Was there anything for you, Mattie?" he inquired, emptying out the rest of the bag. "Only one from the school, grandpapa" (a pardonable quibble)" not very interesting, I expect. Dear me! Lola's late; she must have overslept herself. I'll run up and hurry her," and I rose from the table, when my grandfather put out his hand and pulled me towards him. Ha! I was caught after all! But if so, he was acting a very deep part, probably to give extra effect to his attack, for I had never seen him look at me so kindly, so affec- tionately. (C 'You have not kissed me this morning, little child,” he 112 CRADLED IN A STORM said, drawing me down and pressing his lips to my guilty red cheeks twice, quite warmly. True, he generally kissed me of a night and morning now (a thing he very seldom did when I was in short frocks), but not in this sort of manner. It took me by surprise. I never could under- stand my grandfather, and I supposed I never should. All at once the unworthy thought came into my head that somebody had left me a legacy, that that was what he had learnt from the funereal-looking letter, and why he was so pleased and loving. How little I guessed the true reason! I returned his two kisses with one, half timid, half apologetic, as if I felt it was quite a presumption, and that he could not really appreciate it; then ran out of the room and upstairs two steps at a time, little traitor as I was, dying to read my boy's letter. In the same breath I told Lola that the General was at breakfast, and that I had heard at last from Athol-" would she make haste and go down, like a dear, and keep the old man company while I examined my Indian news?" "Certainly; she would be down in half-a-minute," and congratulated me with a kiss. In the sanctity of my own little room I tore open my lover's letter with trembling, eager fingers, and the while I greedily devoured the three closely written sheets my heart thumped audibly, beating quick time to the rapid perusal. I would fain have dwelt on every dear word, but was afraid to stop upstairs very long for fear I should rouse my grand- father's suspicions-conscience makes such cowards of us-so merely scrambled through the pages, promising myself a supplementary feast at leisure after breakfast. And it was a feast, but a feast of sweets mingled with bitter—to know and think of all he had suffered. That letter seemed to speak. As I read it I could almost declare I heard the THE MORNING MAIL 113 voice of him I loved so well; but the writing in places was uncertain-many of the syllables left unfinished, showing that he had written with much difficulty, when ill and in pain. Poor dear boy! He began by explaining the cause of his long silence, which I had already learnt from his father; then went on : "I know it will take me days to finish this, little Mattie darling, for I can only do a bit at a time, but I wouldn't get another fellow to write for me-to you. I have been longing to tell you all about it, but could not before. At one time, and often, I thought you would never hear from me again, that I should never get back to dear old England, never more see the sweet little face which flits above my hot pillow every night-indeed, day and night. All through this dreadful time I have seen it so, a gleam in the darkness, hanging over me like an angel. It was your spirit watching-such an anxious, mournful little face, but Mattie's, clear and distinct; sometimes I would put up my thin, weak hand to touch it, it was so vivid and close. I knew how you were praying for me, darling! I felt your prayers; they seemed to be sent on to me from heaven, and to help mine to get there. You knew I was ill, didn't you, dear? You knew nothing else would have kept me silent to my sweet little gipsy queen for such a time-nothing but death, and I have been very near that. But I mustn't write any more like this; I am better now, thank God-getting stronger every day, and shall soon be up, but not off the sick-list; no, they are going to send me home with invalids directly, and I shall reach Chepslow, I suppose, very soon after this gets to you. I am looking terribly washed out, of course-you would hardly know me --but no doubt the voyage will pull me round a bit. And now to tell you how I got this wound. With all the fighting I had been through since I joined my regiment, I 114 ORADLED IN A STORM never got touched till after Lucknow had fallen, when I joined Sir Hope Grant's flying column, which was organised to clear the country of a lot of marauding mutineers, who were looting and devastating everything that came in their way. I had had the honour of being 'mentioned' during the siege, you know, and on the strength of that was made one of Sir Hope's gallopers. Our column's first big scrim- mage was against a large force of the rebels near a place called Bhari, and here I got a slight wound, but a mere scratch compared to that later on, which so nearly polished me off. The scratch was a cut from a tulwar, on the shoulder, delivered by one of the enemy's cavalry-the commandant himself, I found out-a man they called 'the Moolvie,' one of the ringleaders at Lucknow, who was put in irons for sedition before the Mutiny, escaped, and became afterwards our most implacable foe. Their sowars were hard at work trying to cut off our baggage guard, and as I - happened to be pounding along to the rear with orders I cannoned against some of them, when I received this slash. I retorted by potting 'the Moolvie' on the spot with my revolver. The heat at the time was frightful, and aggra- vated the slightest damage done to one's person, so that my shoulder took longer to heal-in fact, it hadn't healed when I got this, a very different matter. It was in a rough-and- tumble skirmish with some fugitives. I had just cut down an infatuated nigger, who wouldn't run away and seemed to wish to be killed; I thought I had obliged him, and rode on, when I felt a hot sting in the small of my back. It was a bullet. The fanatic had picked up a loaded rifle beside him, almost in his death-struggle, and taken a good shot at me as I was riding away. After that I saw no more fight- ing. It was some time before the surgeons could get out the bullet, which had gone deep and taken a bad course. It was a long, lingering affair. From one week to another THE MORNING MAIL 115 the wound seemed to get no better; then mortification threatened; then I got fever; then the doctors gave me up. But enough of these details; I don't wish to horrify you, my gentle little Mattie; I only want you to know how ill I have been, and understand that I could not possibly send you any news before. Oh, how I long to get home! You can't imagine what that longing is to a poor sick soldier far away from all that is dear to him. I can hardly believe that my life has been saved, considering what I have gone through; but I don't know even yet that I am out of the wood. The doctors tell me I must be awfully careful. You see, it's a bad time to send home invalids, as the hot weather has set in, and the winds are blowing across the plains like the breath of Nebuchadnezzar's furnace. But they couldn't get us off before, their hands are so full- such a lot of poor broken-down fellows all going home at the same time, many of them, I fear, never to reach there. I dread the journey across the desert from Suez to Alexandria, but once on the other side I shan't care; only let me scent the salt spray of Biscay's troubled Bay, sight the white cliffs once more of dear old Albion's shore, and new blood will jump into my feeble veins. At any rate, you see the Sepoys haven't knocked quite all the poetry out of my composition. << Now, little sweetheart, take your map and imagine me on my homeward voyage; follow me from point to point, and when I get to such and such a place I shall think you have just put your finger on it to welcome my safe arrival there. What a lot I've written! At least it seems so. I feel quite an author, as if I had composed a big book. But I must stop now, or my dear friend the doctor (cur surgeon-major, who has been so good) will pitch into me for disobedience of orders in over-exerting myself; so I'll only take one more dip, a deep one, into the ink-horn, to 5 116 · CRADLED IN A STORM r write this thickly and plainly at the end to tell my loved little Mattie that I am more hers now than ever-that time, distance, excitement, fighting, and suffering, seem only to have drawn me nearer to her. And now, good-bye, keep up your dear heart for a wee time longer, and then 'All ever your own, what's left of me, ! “ATHOL.” "P.S.-I hope you and the General will get on better when you go back. You know the old saw about holding the candle to the ahem! I should try that with him.” About a fortnight after the arrival of this memorable post, my grandfather received another black-edged letter, and, as I judged from a quick glance at the address, in the same handwriting. He generally left the perusal of his correspondence till after breakfast, but this letter he opened and read before he spiked the usual matutinal egg (which almost constituted his frugal meal), and having read it, observed with a placid smile : cr Captain Zollern is Ah, now I'm very glad of this. coming down again to see us, Mattie. It appears he has postponed leaving England for a time, and so remembers my invitation. That will be nice for you; he will stir up our stagnation a little, won't he? Um-ar-yes—a very pleasant fellow." I was not sure that I agreed, and mumbled out some- thing that might mean anything. As for stirring up our stagnation, I looked forward to another, a very different person from Captain Zollern, doing that before long. The only point in favour of this myste- rious stranger's return to Gaunchester-Haugh that I could see, was the possible gratification of my gnawing curiosity which his first visit had so excited. I meant to try again to get to the bottom of that. OUR MYSTERIOUS VISITOR RETURNS 117 The first black letter, then, was from Captain Zollern? Of course; a communication obviously of much importance, which my grandfather had kept to himself. I was madly inquisitive—intensely exercised to understand it-to know what the mutual interest could be that had thus suddenly and mystically arisen between this man and the General. Of course it was no business of mine; at least I supposed not, or my grandfather would have felt bound to tell me. I only wished he were not such a reserved, unfathomable creature, and would recollect that I was no longer an infant, but a young woman of discretion in whom he might safely have confided. To win his confidence, however, I must try to win more of his affection; and to keep that when I had won it, must follow Athol's advice about holding the candle to the old gentleman in his darkest moods. I did not feel that this would be at all easy, notwithstanding the present improvement in his manner, and, consequently, any resolution of mine to carry out such a purpose was rather lukewarm and half-hearted. CHAPTER VIII. HOW OUR MYSTERIOUS VISITOR RETURNS, AND WHAT I LEARN FROM HIM THE following afternoon Captain Zollern arrived. We girls were having five o'clock tea on the lawn, under the paternal protection of an old sycamore, as he drove up to the house. He saw us and lifted his hat with a smile, his white teeth gleaming from under his great black moustache. He got out at the front door and rang the bell himself; then, having paid the flyman and handed his luggage over to the 118 CRADLED IN A STORM butler, came towards us. We could not quite make up our minds whether to be glad or otherwise that he had come; certainly he might somewhat relieve the dull monotony of the place, as the General suggested, but for my own part looked upon the man with distrust, as I have already said an instinctive feeling of suspicion, almost dislike. I was offended that he had taken part in trying to hood- wink us-that he should have this secret with my grand- father which he refused to let us share. It was foolish of me, no doubt-another instance of inordinate female curiosity. Nevertheless, as he was the General's guest I was bound to receive him civilly. "This is a pleasure I hardly expected to be able to give myself," he said, after the usual greetings, and taking a garden-chair beside us, "but unforeseen business detaining me in England, I resolved to put off my departure till the autumn. I then bethought me of your grandfather's kind invitation, and here I am. "" Good gracious! Did the man intend to stay with us for the rest of the summer? It sounded rather like it. I murmured that we were delighted to see him, and asked if he would have a cup of tea, which he declined, but requested permission to light a cigarette instead. (( My meat and drink almost," he observed, puffing the fragrant Turkish tobacco into the leaves over his head. "We foreigners smoke twice as much as your Englishman, I believe, especially these things. Our mercurial natures, perhaps, require more sedatives than the average phlegmatic Briton. Did you ever try a cigarette yourselves?" What a question! To my surprise, Lola answered, in her quiet, lazy tone-she generally spoke with rather a taking little drawl-that she had done such a thing after dusk on the Boulevards. OUR MYSTERIOUS VISITOR RETURNS 119 I saw a twinkle in his eye at the admission, and he actually had the audacity to offer her his chased-silver case. 'Oh, no, not now, thank you-I mean, not here," she said, with a slight laugh. << "Exactly; I understand-à la bonne heure," and he replaced it in his pocket. "Your grandfather is out walk- ing, the butler informed me, Miss Freith, so I didn't go indoors with my baggage. It looked deliciously tempting under here. I was drawn to you at once, you see." The latter sentence seemed addressed to Lola. Do you think I should find him about, if I went to look?" he added, turning to me. "I don't know, I am sure," I answered, continuing quickly: "Yes, very likely you would, somewhere in those walks." I hoped he would go, for I did not feel inclined to talk to the man, still less to accompany him. But he made no attempt to move, saying, with a suppressed yawn, that "no doubt the General would appear presently.' در He now indulged in a little spasmodic praise of the garden and grounds-of the said walks which he had been through on his former visit. "( Such delightful old goblin haunts," he called them, "but romantic enough to make the most prosaic bachelor fall down and worship at the shrine of Venus—that is, if he got inside there and found a Venus ready to hand, ha, ha, ha! But you have them very much to yourselves, have you not? A creepy spot in the evening, especially for ladies without a male protector-as full of legends, I should say, as the old Thuringian forests." His remarks appeared to me frivolous, artificial. I did not trouble to respond to them; I left Lola to do so. "Ah, you were reading, I see," said he suddenly, leaning forward in his chair towards Lola. One of those 120 CRADLED IN A STORM abominable French novels lay in her lap, only partially covered by her lace-edged handkerchief. His roving eye detected it. "And who is our author-may I look?" The impertinence! "Pray excuse my curiosity," and he stretched out his hand for the book, so that Lola could not well refuse to give it. I felt quite sorry for her. But she took it very calmly; more so than I should have done. Well, thank goodness, the novel was not in my lap. I only hoped he might not think that she had been reading it aloud to me, or that I ever read such things myself-not that I need care for his opinion. He glanced at the title and the author's name, and apparently knowing the book, began discussing the plot with her, which seemed a pot bouilli of murder, suicide, conjugal unfaithfulness, and everything that was ghastly and improper. While they were engaged in this edifying discourse (for the most part carried on in French), my grandfather came in sight and sauntered towards us. I was glad of the in- terruption, and rather wondered to myself at Lola's tone of conversation--at her "freedom of speech" with this perfect stranger. Seeing the General coming, Captain Zollern returned her the book promptly, with a peculiar smile, and rising from his chair went forward to meet him. My grandfather received him cordially. I never remember him so gracious. to any one as he was to this man. Such geniality was quite a new departure in his character. And it was not only an outward form of courtesy, for he treated him with generous hospitality, and made Scroils bring up the best brands in his honour from the vast cellars under the dining-room, which cellars, I had heard, held a large stock of choice wines seldom drawn upon. OUR MYSTERIOUS VISITOR RETURNS 121 Before Captain Zollern had been with us a week, I am bound to confess my feelings towards him had undergone a change. The secret of this was that he had overcome my prejudice by taking me at last into his confidence. It happened on the third day after his return; I was rambling by myself in the shady walks, indulging in a sulky" after luncheon, when he came upon me. "Ah, Miss Freith, 'on lonely meditation bent!"" said he, suddenly overtaking me. "I hope I don't disturb you." I started slightly, then replied with a laugh: "Oh, not the least; you are the very person I was thinking about" (scarcely the truth unless he and Athol had exchanged identities)—" that is, the very person I wanted to see," I added, correcting myself. "Indeed! I feel flattered." (C 'You needn't be," I said, laughing again; "I only want you for what I can get out of you." "Gra'merci, then I don't feel so. What may that be?" "You know; this secret of yours-this mystery between you and my grandfather. Come, I want the truth; you promised to tell me." "I did." "You confess I haven't heard it yet?" "I do; but I have been debating whether you ought to hear it." "Debating with whom?" 'Myself-questioning whether it would be to your (C happiness." "My happiness! Does it concern me, then? "Well, yes, it does." "Then certainly I ought to know." (C I am not so sure that you ought. At any rate, if I you, will you promise- "" tell "Never to tell a soul?" I interrupted eagerly. "Of 122 CRADLED IN A STORM course I won't, Captain Zollern; I promise you faithfully won't," I added, becoming more and more fervid as my curiosity increased. ،، Yes, people always promise faithfully," he replied, in a quietly satirical tone. "Do you doubt my word, then?" I exclaimed. "Not at all; but I am not going to bind you too strictly, and tempt you to break it. I know what a pleasure it is for young ladies to exchange secrets, and no doubt you would like to tell Miss La Touche, your confidential friend." 2 "" "I don't know that I should; it depends upon what it is." "I give you leave to confide in her, but on no account must you let the General find out that I have told you; he might consider it a great breach of confidence." "Oh, I should think I won't, indeed," I cried promptly. “The General and I are not confidants.' "" "I suppose not; but-ar-you mustn't think I wish to encourage you to deceive him." (C I don't mean to think anything of the sort; and with all respect for your fatherly feelings, I hope I'm too old to be easily led away"