Coulson_The_Lacy_Diamonds.txt topic ['13', '324', '378', '393']
CHAPTER I.
Doctor Cunningham's Testimony,
IT was raining ^I was going to say, cats and dogs, but it was a
great deal worse it was raining pius and needles. I was riding
in a north-easterly direction, and the little, sharp particles of frost
scarified my nose and my right cheek in an extremely unpleasant
manner. My horse winced and snorted as each gust swept pver
us ; and as my road lay along the west bank of the river, we were
ever and anon exposed to the full violence of the storm, as it came
roaring across the broad water. Sometimes a curve in the stream,
which the road did not follow, would give me the slender protection
of ^a clump of dwarf cedars, but I never had the friendly shelter
long at a time 5 and it always seemed, as I emerged from the lee
of the bushes, that the fragments of sleet were considerably heav-
ier, sharper and more numerous than before.
I had left home ^arly in the afternoon, before the rain, and as I
had a long ride before me, and some prospect of detention, I told my
wife that I should probably be away all night. I was called out
to visit a poor patient, John Hawder, who lived fdll eight miles
from my home. Had he been a richer man, I should have postponed
the Visit until the next day ; but I promised myself, when I first
began the practice of medicine, that the poor should always have
my services upon demand. Hawder was very sick. He had no
near neighbours, and he lived alone with his little motherless boy
in a log house near the river bank. I don't know how the man
lived, but he never seemed to be in actual want. I left him with
a heavy heart, after I had prescribed for him, and was the more
saddened by the cheerfulness of little Elbert, his son, who listened
with great gravity to my instructions as to the administration of
the medicines. I had intended to go to a farm house two or three
miles back from the river, where I also had a patient, but as this
8 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
case was not at all urgent, I concluded to go back home from
Hawder's. The storm caught me before I had ridden a mile on my
homeward journey.
It grew worse and worse. I pulled up my liorse under the lee of
a '^ yaller pine," Finus mitis, a stunted tree which afforded very
insufficient slielter. There were three long miles of exposed road
right up the river bank before I could turn my back upon the
water and the sharp blast that whistled over it. The sleet rattled
through the thick foliage of the little tree, sounding like a rain of
shot upon plate glass. I rubbed my nose, wondering how long I
could keep that useful and ornamental feature if I faced the storm
again. There was a ferry just at this point, and while I was debat-
ing about the dreary prospect ahead, I heard the sound of oars,
and presently saw the boat come up to the landing, and a passen-
ger leap lightly to the bank. I saw him hand a piece of money to
the boatman, and heard him say : " You will have a hard pull back,
old fellow, and ought to have double fare. Good night !''
He came up the bank, crunching in the sleet that now whitened
the ground. As he reached the level of the road he saw me.
" Hillo, stranger !" he said, in a cheery voice, " are you going to
Baird's ?" and he drew nearer. " I beg your pardon, sir, but I
was thinking how jolly it would be if you could put me across the
creek dry shod."
He was a handsome fellow, about twenty -five, frank and manly
looking. While he waited for my answer, his blue eyes twinkling,
and his white teeth glistening in the twilight, I made up my mind.
Baird's tavern was a little country inn, rather more than a mile
from the river. I had never been there, but I knew it was on this
road, leading west from the ferry.
" I think I loill go to Baird's," I answered ; " my home is so dis-
tant, and the storm will then be behind me at least. Beppo will
carry double, so I can put you across the creek, if there is one to
be crossed. Will you mount at once F
** Thank ^u, no," replied the stranger; "I have been cramped
up in that boat, and want to stretch my legs a little. I can keep
up with you for a mile, anyhow," and he started up the road at a
brisk pace, ahead of me.
As I followed, I noticed that he had a knapsack strapped to his
back. H^was dressed in coarse, homespun garments, the legs of
his trourors stuffed into his boots, and his coat collar turned up,
covering his ears and most of his face. The brim of his slouched
DOCTOR GUNNINGHASrS TESTIMONY, 9
hat drooped around his head, and he looked as though he could
endure the pelting of the storm far better than I could. As we
advanced into the woods the pines grew larger, and we were a little
more protected from the sharp wind and sleet.
"This is a dreary country,'' he said, as he strode along beside
me ; "it afibrds a striking contrast to to lands tljat I have seen
elsewhere. The hand of man has not done much towards smooth-
ing the rugged front of nature in this locality. The inn is a mile
from the river, and two hundred yards beyond the creek." He said
this with the air of one repeating a lesson.
"You mean the country is dreary in comparison with your
own."
" In comparison with my own T he repeated.
" Yes, with England. You are an Englishman ?"
" I don't know why you should thiril so," he answered.
"Oh, you called Baird's an Mnn' just now. Besides, there is a ,
certain accent which distinguishes your countrymen."
" Do I drop my H's, or make too liberal a use of them F he re-
plied, laughing. " I wonder if I may consider it complimentary to
be taken for a Britisher. I cannot discover any remarkable differ-
ence between my speech and yours."
" You have decided then that I am an American !" replied I.
" Yes. I don't know, though. I can't say, I'm sure."
" There you go again I Americans don't say ' I can't say, Pm
sure.' They are not sure, they guess."
"Well, I shall count you for a countryman till you deny it. I
am Mr. John Smith, at your service."
" I think I have heard the name before. I am Dr. Cunningham^
at your service, sir."
He pulled off his mitten and gave me his hand, which was
white and soft. Altogether, he impressed me with the idea that
liis ordinary dress was not homespun, nor his proper name John
Smith.
Baird's was a lonely country tavern, where all the inmates seemed
to be just waking from a nap. I saw Beppo sheltered in a comforta-
ble stable and supplied with a sufficient quantity of hay and oats.
Mr. Smith stood by while I gave my directions to the hostler,
and then we entered the public room together. The landlord went
behind his bar, expecting us to imbibe some of his jwtations, but
be was disappointed. We told him we wanted snpptr and beds,
with the privilege of smoking by his cheerful wood flR after we
10 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
had satisfied the cravings of li linger. We soon had some hot coffee,
some broiled ham and good biscuits and butter. The evening meal
appeared to be over, as my comi)anion and I were the only persons
at the table.
" I feel so much invigorated," observed Mr. Smith, as we drew
our chairs up to the fire, *' that I could face the storm again now
if it were necessary. Yours must be a hard life, doctor, if you
are often exposed to weather like this."
*^ I am accustomed to it," I replied, " and I do not find the duties
of my profession irksome. In many cases I am able to relieve
suffering, and then I am amply repaid for toil and exi^osure."
" I have often fancied," returned he, " that the most trying part
of a physician's experience must be his constant contact with
humanity in affliction. It is true you can sometimes ameliorate
the condition of the sick afnd suffering, but there are also many
cases beyond the reach of your art. And when you know, as you
often do know, undoubtedly, that your patient will die, you must
suffer somewhat in advance in your natural sympathy for those
about to ,be bereaved."
*' It is not the actual sickness of my patients that makes the
largest drafts upon my sympathies. More frequently the attending
circumstances affect me more. Kow, to-day ." I paused.
" You were saying ^
" I hesitated," I answered, " because I don't know that I would
be justified if I tell you a story that will sadden you, especially as
there seems to be no remedy."
" You make me only more eager to hear it. Pray tell it, unless
there is some other reason."
" Kb. It may be told in a few words. There is a poor fellow
living on the river bank, a mile or two below the place where I
met you, who is sick. His name is Hawder. I think he is going
to have typhoid fever and will probably die. There is no one in the
^ house with him excepting his son, a child probably not over ten
years old. I do not know whether or not the man is in absolute
poverty, but his dwelling is not comfortable, and he requires care-
ftd nursing. While I was there this afternoon I was struck with
the little boy's intelligence and cheerfulness. He listened with
attention to my directions, and I have no doubt he will obey
them faithfally. But, somehow, I have not been able to shake off
the melancholy feeling that comes over me whenever I think of
thatchild^
DOCTOR CUNNINGHAM'S TESTIMONY. 11
Mr. John Smith sat there opposite to me with sympathy in hiia
big blue eyes. As I proceeded with my story he threw the stump
of his cigar into the fire, and when I finished, he rose and buttoned
his coat.
" Please repeat your directions to me, doctor." he said simply 5 "I
am going right down there."
"Your
"Yes, II God forgive me! here am I, brimful!, running over
with health and strength, with nothing to do, and that infant is
fighting a giant's battle alone. Yes, I am going down there im-
mediately. Here, Mr. Baird I I am going out again. I shan't be
back to-night. Take care of my knapsack till I return."
"Why, sir," answered the astonished landlord, "you can't go
anywhere to-night. The storm is worse than ever. It is a regular
iior'easter !"
" That's the kind of storm Fm partial to, Mr. Baird. What are
the directions, doctor ?"
" I shall order a strait waistcoat for you if you don't sit down
here and be quiet," I answered. " What has put this insane pro-
ject into your head ?"
" Doctor," he said, gravely, " I am going down to that sick
naan's house. I am going if I have to encounter ten devils in my
path. If you won't tell me what ought to be done, Fm going all
the same. I can shield that boy at least ; besides, I know some-
thing of enteric fever."
"My friend, you don't know all the case. This disease may
be, and probably is, contagious; and you have no right to*
throw away the health of which you boast. Is there no one living
who has an interest in your life !"
" Pooh 1" he replied. " Perhaps there is ; but I am not going to
take any disease. I am going to start when I count twenty. If
you'll tell me what ought to be done while I'm counting. Til listen.
Here goes. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight ^but III
take my knapsack."
" Stop an instant and listen. Landlord, is there a near way to
Hawder's f Mr. Smith was strapping his knapsack to his back.
" Yes, there is a road right down the creek. There is a bridge
at the mouth of the creek near his house."
" !N^ine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen ^"
" Stop again, if you please. I left four or five powder* with the
child. The patient ought to have one evexy thr^ ox iQW\iQ^v%
12 THE LACY DIAMONDS,
If he Rleeps, don't waken him. If he has fever and is thirsty, give
him some sleet in a spoon. It ^yill bo better than water, and you
can get it at the door."
'' Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen how much sleet may he have I"
" As much as he wants in moderation. You had better take a
sober second thought ^
"Nineteen, twenty! Good night, doctor!" and he banged
the door after him as he issued forth into the storm.
Mr. Baird stood looking stupidly at me, listening to the strong
voice of his departed guest, as it came back to us outroaring the
tempest. He was singing " A wet sheet and a flowing sea," and
I heard his voice dying away in the announcement tliat " Old
England was on his lee." He had reached the pines below the
tavern by that time, and we heard him no longer.
" Well," said the landlord, drawing a long breath, " he sings
nice, don't he ? But it is a mighty quare start. I wonder what
he is after at old Hawder's? He didn't pay for his supper, nei-
ther."
" Hell be back again, landlord, to-morrow or next day. I'll
pay for his supper, though. Put it in my bill to morrow."
" Oh, I'm not pailickler, doctor. What do you want, Nelly I''
The question was addressed to a beautiful child that came into the
public room at the instant.
" I want the key," she answered.
" You mustn't come in here, Nelly, when anybody is here," said
Baird as he walked behind the bar. The girl made no reply, but
looked curiously at me.
" Come here, my dear," I said, and she came immediately. I
took the little thing up on my knee and kissed her. " You are a
fine little 4ady. What is your name V-
"Ellen."
"What else?"
"Nothing else; only Ellen."
" Here, Nelly, run out now. Here is the key," said Baird hur-
riedly. I kissed the child again and put her down. She took tbe
key and vanished.
" What a beautiful little daughter you have, landlord," I said.
"She is your daughter, I suppose!"
" No, sir," replied Baird j " she is some relation to my wife. I've
got no children."
" What is her name t I mean her surname."
DOCTOR CUNNINQHAM'S TESTIMONY. 13
** Kelly Willis, I s'pose,'' answered he discontentiftdly. "You
see, her mother wasu't married."
"Pardon me. I did not mean to ask an improper question.
But the child is so beautiful that she interested me. Do you know
how old she is?"
" About seven, I s'pose. It's storming again wonderful. Hell
have a nice walk !"
" Who ^Mr. Smith H Yes, he will have an unpleasant walk.
How far is it to Hawder's by the creek road t"
" Two miles, good. Where is he going to sleep ? Hawder ain't
got no place to put him."
" I don't think he intends to sleep there to-night," I replied 5 " but
I believe I'll try to get some sleep myself, if you will show me my
room. I was called out very early this morning."
He lighted a candle and led the way through a passage behind
the bar. I passed him at tlie first landing on the stairway, and
-when I reached the hall on the second floor I saw the child stand-
ing in a doorway. I held out my hand to her as I passed.
" Good night," she said.
" Good night, little darling," and I stooped down and kissed
ber again.
" There, there, Xelly !" said Baird, impatiently ; " run in now
and shut the door." She smiled and nodded her little head to ^e,
and obeyed him.
I have so often been compelled to sleep away from home that I
am somewhat hardened. It is always a luxury to stretch myself
upon my own bed; but when I have to accept a sleeping place at
the houses of my patients, I am mainly concerned about the quan.
tity of the covering and the cleanness of the couch. But I have
always hated to sleep at public houses. I don't know wliy, but
the repugnance grows upon me instead of diminishing. Every-
thing in my chamber was clean and comfortable ; but I sat down,
when the landlord left me, and concluded to wait until 1 was more
drowsy. There was a fire in the room, and a log or two of wood
on the hearth. A rocking-chair, made of split hickory, stood
in one comer. It was rough in appearance, but decidedly com-
fortable. I drew it up to the fire-place, put out my candle, pulled
off my boots, and resting my feet on another chair, I lighted a
cigar and waited for the drowsy god. The sleet was rattling
against the window panes, and I could hear the wail of the wind
sweeping through the pines near the house. I thought of the
14 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
generous young man who lial voluntaiily encountered the fierce
blast and the pelting of the storm to minister to the wants of a
poor creature, whose only claim upon his sympathy was the pos-
session of a common nature. Then, when I remembered little
Elbert, I wondered that I had tried to dissuade him when he an-
nounced his intention to go at once to the child's relief. I thought
of the loneliness of Hawder's house, and wondered what possible
concatenation of circumstances had brought the man there with
that boy, and had kept him there for some years isolated fi*om
all his race. The man who brought me the message in the morn-
ing was a chance traveller, who met the child on the bridge near
the house, and Avho found out, somehow, where Doctor Cunning-
ham lived.
The logs fell apart on the hearth, and I put their points together
again and thought I would go to bed. But the fire was still
comfortable, and I stretched myself out on the chairs again and
began to think of the little girl, and then I fell asleep.
I dreamed that I was half floating and half swimming in tjie
river, and near the bank where the ferry boat had landed Mr. John
Smith. It was a very pleasant sensation. The water seemed to
bo particularly dense or my body unusually buoyant, as I floated
without any effort. Suddenly I saw Baird come down to the mar-
gin, leading the child by the hand. lie waded out a little way
and then threw the child far out into the stream. I tried to call
out to him, but could not utter a sound. He waded back to the
shore and walked uj) the bank and out of sight. I then struggled
violently to reach the girl, Avhose hitelligent face exhibited no
sign of alarm. Her head was above the water, and her curls
floated away from her neck as she moved with the current. I
could not reach her. The dense element mocked my efforts, and
mj' strongest exertions appeared to accomplish nothing. Then I
saw Smith and Hawdei: come down to the water's edge. I tried to
call out to them, but again I had no voice. They looked at the
girl as she floated down the stream, and Smith appeared to talk
very composedly about her situation. He made no effort to res-
cue her even when she floated near the bank. Then she began to
sink, and she stretched her hands out to me, crying, " Doctor !
doctor!" and I awoke.
I was in total darkness. The fire had gone dead out. I got up
and began to remember where I was, when the voice came again : ^^'^
" Doctor! doctor P and the door-knob rattled.
-1
..
DOCTOR CUNNINGHAM'S TESTIMONY. 15
" Who's there f I said.
" It's me Baird," he answered. " Fm sorry to wake you, but
my wife is sick. Won't you please come see herf I've got a
light."
I stumbled to the door and admitted him. The dream was still
upon me, and I felt inclined to take him by the throat for the mur-
der of the child.
" Did you call me before F I asked, as I drew on my boots.
^' Yes, sir ; I called you once or twice. You haven't been abed!"
" Ifo, I fell asleep in my chair. I am ready now."
He preceded me along the passage, and opened the door at
which the girl was standing when I went to my chamber. There
was a little crib in a corner, and she was in it asleep. Although
I was now broad awake, yet somehow the memory of the dream
dung to me, and the sight of the child relieved me. Baird's wife
was lying in the bed a gaunt, hollow-eyed woman, who looked
anxiously into my face as I felt her pulse.
*^ Am I going to die, doctor f she asked in a husky voice.
" jS^ot at present. You need not think about dying. I will tell
you whenever I think you are in danger."
She sunk back ou the bed with a sigh of relief.
" Where is your pain !" I inquired.
"I am sick at the stomach all the time, and my feet are cold;
and I feel so drowsy sometimes, that I fall asleep till the sickness
wakes me again."
" What have you eaten to-day ?"
" Oh, nothing to hurt. I had some pork steaks for supper, and
eat purty hearty of them but I did'nt feel sick till I was in bed."
" I want some hot water, Mr. Baird."
" The fires are all out, and "
"Well kindle one somewhere and heat some water. I will
prepare some medicine while you are gone."
When he left the room I sat down at a table and made up a
prescription. The woman fell asleep while I was thus engaged.
The table wiis near the crib and I looked at Kelly again. She
was sitting up, bolt upright, watching me with her round bright
eyes.
" Lie down, Ellen, my child," I said in a low tone, " and go to
sleep."
" I want my mamma. Can't you take me to her ?"
" Kot to-night. Don't you hear the rain 1 Where is your mam-
ma F
16 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
" I don't know. Dou't you ?" and she looked eagerly at me.
" Is your inamraa named Mrs. Willis T
" No ! &lie is not my dear mamma. Oli, 1 want her so hadJ^ I
heard Baird coming up the steps.
" Go to sleep now, my darling," I said hurriedly 5 " Mr. Baird don't
like you to talk to me. I will take you to your mamma if I can ;
but you must not say a word till I tell you. Do you understand f "
" Yes. You are a good man and 1 love you !" she answered a
she laid her head down again. I believe she was asleep in a min-
ute. When Baird came in I was at his wife's bedside again. She
awoke as he closed the door. I administered the medicine. She
was somewhat relieved when I left her, telling Baird I would see
her again in the morning before I left the house.
When I got back to my chamber I threw myself upon the bed
and tried to sleep. But it was in vain. The gray dawn came in
at my windows before I closed my eyes. That child 1 Could it be
possible that any villany, of which she was the victim, was perpe-
trated in the midst of a civilized community, where the laws were
administered and their sanctions dreaded ? Besides, what possible
object could Baird have in view, if the girl was stolen away from
her parents ? He was a thick-skulled, inofifensive sort of man, and
did not look like a rascal. Could I account for his evident uneasi-
ness, when the girl was talking to me, by accepting his story of her
relationship to his wife and her illegitimate birth 1 He did not
seem unkind to her, and she did not manifest either fear or dislike
when he talked to her. But the dream, and the child's eager de-
mand to be taken to her mother, and her denial of Mrs. Willis's
right to that title all these things confused and troubled me. As
the light increased I grew more composed, and when I went down
to breakfast I had decided upon my course. I only needed my
wife's approval of my plans, and I would do nothing and say nothing
until I saw her and communicated the facts in the case.
Baird's wife was worse. Her symptoms, without being exactly-
alarming, were very annoying. The weather was less inclement,
and I ordered my horse, intending to visit Hawder and Mr. Phil-
lips, a farmer residing at no great distance from the Creek Bridge;
and, if the weather improved, to return to Baird's in the evening.
I did not see the child either in Mrs. Baird's room or down stairs.
While I was waiting for my horse a stranger came into the bar
room.
He was a tall, muscular man of about thiriy. The first thing I
DOCTOR CUNNINGHAM'S TESTIMONY. H
noticed about him, when he removed his oilskin cap, was a long
red scar across his forehead, about an inch above his eyes. I
wondered if he had ever been in a battle and got a sabre-cut there.
He wore a long bushy beard, and without looking exactly vulgar
be had a flash appearance and manner. His dress was made of
good material, though somewhat worn and shabby. He walked
up to the bar without noticing me, and asked for brandy and
water.
" How is the ^filly ?" he said as he set his tumbler down.
'^About the same, I reckon," replied Baird ; " but my wife is sick."
'' Much sick F asked the other indiiferently.
" Yes ; the doctor there says she is purty sick," and he pointed ,
over to the fire-place where I was standing. The stranger turned
and nodded civilly to me.
'' It is a raw morning, doctor," he observed. " I think last night
was the worst night I ever saw. I was out in the storm, dpWn-
there by the river. I wanted to stop at Hawder's, Billy" ^h^re
lie turned to Baird '^but he was sick abed."
" Did you go in ?" inquired the landlord. v
" No ; the boy told me his father was sick. While I was talk- j
ing to him at the door, a queer looking chap came out of the back* .i*v
room. He had his face tied up in a handkerchief and he stuttered ":
dreadfully. But I managed to understand that he was nursing." ,.
Hawder." / --r-C^
" What time o' night was it?" said Baird. - -^ :
" Nigh midnight, I s'pose. I went a mile up the road aind got
shelter at a farm house, after fighting a cross dog half an houri^
The hostler here put his head in at the door announcing that my
horse was ready. I stepped up to the bar to settle for my enter-
tainment, and interrupted a whispered conversation between the
pair. I overheard the new comer say : " she will have to stay a
little while longer. I'll take her when I can find a safe place."
It suddenly occurred to me that they were talking of the child, and
I waited for Baird's answer, but only caught fragments of sentences.
" Nobody to watch her;" then another whisper, and then, " if you
can get Kitty to come here " " never mind your bill, doctor 5 Fm
afraid you will have one against me bigger than mine." I had no
excuse for lingering, so Beppo and I were speedily on the road to
my home.
When I related to my wife all the incidents concerning the little
girl, I could i)erceive that her woman's heart was touched, and
2
18 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
that I mi^ht safely rely upon her cooperation. My plan \ras dis-
cussed and approved, with some slight modifications 5 the changes
being suggested by her fears that I might get involved in some
serious trouble, and suffer some bodily injury, if I came into col-
lision with the men I hal seen in the morning. But we agreed
finally that I should endeavour to find out any secret that might be
hidden under the story told by Baird, and as I would undoubtedly
be at the tavern every day for a week or two to come, I should
have an opportunity if I kept my eyes open. I had scarcely a
doubt that Baird's wife had typhoid fever, and her symptoms were
on the whole unfavourable. If I found in the afternoon that the
disease had developed itself positively, I should give orders to re-
move the child's crib from the sick room. The question of con-
tagion is an open one, but I have always thought it wiser to use all
possible precautions to avoid the risk. I rode away after an early
dinner, for Hawder's first, then for Mr. Phillips's, and finally for
Baird's, where I would again remain all night if the case was
urgent.
I
CHAPTER II.
Child Stealing.
FOUND Mr. Smith walking up and down the road near Haw-
der's, smoking a cigar. He told me some of the sick man's most
prominent symptoms before I entered the house. Little Elbert
^ was with his father when I went in, looking fresh and cheerful.
* He told me Mr. Smith came there " before he was sleepy," and soon
put him to bed in the front room, while he staid with his father.
. I thought Hawder would recover, with patience and careful nurs-
ing, the disease with him not having assumed any of its alarming
aspects. I have never been able to get rid of anxiety, however,
when I have had patients with " continued fever ;" neither have I
ever got my own consent to subject any healthy person, except a
necessary nurse, to the risk of contagion.
" It is my duty to tell you, Mr. Smith," I said, when we had left
the sick chamber, " that you are incurring more . or less risk by
attending upon this man. He has typhoid fever, and will require
incessant attention for two or three weeks, if he is to get well."
^ " Pooh ! doctor," he answered, " do you think I am afraid of such
a bugbear as contagion f Never fear for me."
CHILD STEALING, 19
^' I heard this morning that j^ou were far from well. You had
your head tied up last night, and had a serious impediment in your
speech."
ECe laughed uproariously, and little Elbert joined in the laugh
witti great glee. I told him to come to me and tell me allfcbout
Mr. Smith since he first came, ^^
^' I gave father one of the powders last night, and came in this
rooBi for some water for him, and then Mr. Smith knocked at the
door. He was all wet when he came in, but he took off his coat
and then he hugged me, and told me you had sent him to help me
nurse father. Then he opened that black bag jonder, and got out
a pair of little shoes, and he took off his boots and put the littj^
shoes on. Then he got some of the snow off the window bUI iy "
the tumbler and gave father some with a spoon. Father said
was so nice. Then he told me to go to sleep there on them chairs,'' ,
and he pointed to an extempore sleeping place in the comer, " and
he told me to say my prayers, and he tucked the blanket all rodbd/^
nie. When Mr. Butler was a knocking he woke me up. He told
nie to get up and tell Mr. Butler you know, he has got a red
mark on his face to tell him father was very sick, and he could
not stay here. But Mr. Butler wanted to stay because it was
a-raining so hard, and then Mr. Smith came out of father's room with
his head all tied up with a handkerchief, and he told Mr. Butler
that he might catch the sickness but he talked so slow and funny !
So Mr. Butler weAt away and I went to sleep again. This morn-
ing Mr. Smith went into the river and washed himself."
" Into the river ?"
"Yes, sir! he undressed himself and jumped right into the
^ater, and then he dressed himself again out there in the cold."
*'The lavatory arrangements are not extensive in Mr. Hawder's
residence, doctor," remarked Mr. Smith ; ^' but I prefer the river
anyhow. One has more room out there."
" If you have no objection to tell me, I should like to know why
yon changed your appearance last night ?"
"None in the world. I thought I recognized the voice of the
visitor, and I did not wish to be recognized in turn. So I wrapped
y face up and put a couple of bullets in my mouth. It would
have been quite annoying if he had insisted on remaining ; but
he Went very quietly when he heard there was some danger of
contagion. This boy is a bright little fellow."
"Yes, I must manage to get him away from here for ^ ^e^\L ot
"a'
20 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
two. I think Hawder may escape a very severe illness, but the
case may be protracted, and he must have a nurse. I am going
now to Mr. Phillips's, and think I can get a woman there to come
here for two weeks.''
" I will pay the expense, doctor, and I will also stay here until
the man is better. I have special reasons for remaining in this
neighbourhood. Perhaps I may go back to Baird's to-night or to-
morrow, if you get a nurse for Hawder. Where can you put
Elbert?"
" I want to stay with father," said the boy earnestly.
" Your father will get well sooner if you are somewhere else,
Elbert," I said. "You want him to get well soon, don't you I"
'^^ " Yes, sir ! But I may come and see him ?"
"Yes, you shall come whenever he is well enough. I know you
will be a man, and wait until I tell you that you may come."
" I'll do whatever father says," replied the child ; " but I think
he likes me to nurse him. He took the powder last night without
anything to take the taste out !" ^
" Well, he won't have to take any more medicine just now. I
am not going to give him any more powders."
"Before father got sick," said Elbert, after meditating a few
minutes, " he said I might go stay a day with Johnny Phillips.
Mr. Phillips was here and asked father to let me go. I could
walk over here from Mr. Phillii^s's house ; I know the way Pve
been there many a time."
" Very well. Pll see Mr. Phillips this morning I am going
there now ; and if he says so, I'll take you over on my horse to-
morrow."
It was so decided when I left Mr. Phillips. He very kindly
oifered to send for the boy, and to keep him until his father re-
covered. I also got a black woman, the wife of one of his farm
hands, to stay at Hawder's and nurse the sick man. She went
there the same afternoon. I had several other patients in the
neighbourhood, and it was near nightfall when I reached Baird's.
As I expected, I found Mrs. Baird worse. Her symptoms were
more strongly marked and decided. There was very little to be
done except to give directions to the woman I found in her room,
whom Baird introduced as " Mrs. Willis." I asked her if she was
prepared to stay with the sick woman for two or three weeks.
She replied in the affirmative, and I then endeavoured to explain
to her the nature of her duties, and the precautions she should
CHILD STEALING. 21
observe to avoid the coustiiiit danger of contracting the disease
herself. She listened to me attentively and x)romised to follow
my directions. I told Baird the child's crib must be removed
from the chamber. He looked doubtfully at Mrs. Willis, who
promptly proposed taking Nelly into her room.
" Where is your room f I said ; " let me see it.''
" It is next to the one you slept in last night, doctor," replied
Bairdv
"Very well. I think there is danger of contagion, and it will
do no harm to keep on the safe side. No one ought to sleep in
this chamber. Mrs. Willis and you can reUeve each other- in
watching the patient, who will probably be worse and worse for
a "week, or perhaps two, and who will require attention all the
time."
" Do you think she will die, doctorf said Baird tremulously.
''It is impossible to say. She has typhoid fever, and her
symptoms are not very favourable. I hope, however, she will re-
cover. There is nothing alarming in the case at present, and if
she is well nursed, and her mind composed, she may be better
next week."
" Her mind F repeated her husband, inquiringly.
" Yes. It is very important that her mind should be perfectly
composed. There are some slight appearances of cerebral de-
rangement now, and there will be more to-morrow."
Baird and Mrs. Willis exchanged a rapid glance. I caught it
as I stood near the door, for I was watching them.
"Does the child's presence in the chamber annoy or disturb
your wifef I asked. " I see she is not here."
"I believe it does. Nelly is in the kitchen. Mrs. Willis
will put her to bed in her room, and she shall stay there till
till ." ,
"Until your wife is better 5 very well. But Mrs. Willis will
have to stay in this room most of the night."
" Oh, Nelly sleeps all night. She is a good little gal, and does
whatever we tell her."
" Well, you had better remove the crib at once. Take one end ;
I will help you." So saying I took one end of the little bed and
we carried it along the hall to the room he had designated. As
we set the crib down in a comer I glanced around the room. It
was similar in every respect to the one I had occupied on the
previous night. Two windows looking out upon the pines and a
door communicating with the hall.
^
22 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
"I shall remain here to-nigbt. I suppose I occupy the same
room again F I said, as we walked down stairs.
" YeSj sir. There's a lot of drovers in the bar room who will
stay here to-night, but Fll put 'em all in the back building. I
s'posel needn't tell 'em there's a catching sickness in the house f
'^ It is not necessary. You may caution them to keep quiet, as
your wife will be disturbed if they are noisy."
We went down stairs, and I returned to the sick room after
supper. ]\Irs. Baird was sleeping fitfully and muttering incoherent
sentences. I tried to listen, but it always happened that Mrs.
Willis spoke to me before I could catch more than a word or two.
Once I heard her say " that child !" I was careful to manifest no
interest, as part of my plan was to ai)pear indifferent to every-
thing relating to the little girl. It was my duty to remove her
^'' from the sick chamber on the patient's account, and I excited no
suspicions when I ordered this change. I could find no fault in
the matter or manner of Mrs. Willis's frequent interruptions. She
always managed to attract my attention, and always made some
appropriate remark, or asked some appropriate question. I began
to conclude that she was very nearly a match for me in the game
we were playing. I could not decide whether she was merely
watching against any possible revelations the sick woman should
make, or whether she suspected me of an undue interest in the
child.
For two or three nights I was at the inn until bed-time, watch-
ing the progress of the case, as the more unfavourable symptoms
began to appear. I had but little hope of Mrs. Baird's recovery
from the first 5 and during the second week, when she began to
exhibit those manifestations which a medical practitioner so
quickly recognizes as the precursors of death, I intimated to Baird
that he would probably soon be a widower.
At last the climax arrived. It was on Saturday, and the night
was clear and cold. I had ordered the man in charge of the
stable to put my horse away for the night, and when I entered
the bar room I saw Mr. Smith sitting by the open fire-place, astride
of his chair, with his face resting on his arms, which in turn
rested upon the back of the chair. I recognized him by the out-
lines of his handsome person and by his homespun dress, and by
the slouched hat which concealed his features. The disagreeable
looking man, Butler, was leaning idly against the counter, and
looking with a puzzled expression at the stalwart form of the only
CHILD STEALING, 23
other occupant of tli3 apartment. Butler nodded to mo as I
entered, with a ^'Good evening, doctor." I walked up to the
fire 5 Smith was breathing deeply and apparently in a sound
sleep.
''That chap's doing a good deal of sleeping, doctor," said
Butler. "Fve hollered loud enough to wake a dead man, but he
hasn't stirred for half an hour."
"Better let him have his nap out," I answered carelessly.
" Have vou heard how Mrs. Baird is F *
" J^o, sir. Baird is in the kitchen, I believe. I'll call him."
So saying, he left the bar room.
"And I'll go to bed," said Smith, quietly raising his head.
" Good evening, doctor. Mr. Butler is so noisy a cpmpanion that
I will take advantage of the present opportunity and get rid of
him for the night. I will see you in the morning, I suppose ? 1
think I overheard you tell the hostler you would remain here to*-:
night f ' _
" Yes," I answered, " I shall stay to-night. Are you off? Good
night;" and he passed into the hall leading to the chambers as
Butler re-entered the room, accompanied by the landlord.
If this was the proper jjlace, I should like to record my opinion
of the course, crises and termination of the disease kuown as
continued fever. Mrs. Baird's case was an exceptional one. The
symptoms and the course of the disease up to this Saturday night
were identical with nearly all the cases I have attended. I had
concluded, when I visited her on the previous evening, that she
would die withm the next twenty -four hours, but had decided to
pass the next night in attendance upon the case if she were still
alive. I also thought, if she should die in the course of the night,
I might have the opportunity for which I had long waited to
converse a little with Nelly. I had had occasional brief glimpses
of the bright-eyed little giii, who had always looked cheerful and
particularly knowing as she nodded her pretty head to me in
passing.
There was no perceptible change in the condition of the patient.
I could det^ect no difference in her pulses or in the general symptoms.
She was sleeping', looking gaunt and cadaverous, but she had pre-
sented the same appearance from the first. It was near midnight
when I left the sick room, directing Mrs. Willis to call me if there
should be any necessity for my presence, and also recommending
her to remain by the bedside for the next hour or two. I then
24 THE LAGY DIAMONDS.
walked swiftly and quietly along the passage leading to my
sleeping apartment and tried the door of the child's room. It was
locked. Without pausing, I passed into my own chamber, and
drawing a chair to the fire-place I sat down to think.
It was probable that I should have an hour or more at my dis-
posal, and the first thing to be done was to gain an entrance into
Kelly's room. There was no key on the outside of the door, and I
inferred that it was reposing in Mrs. Willis's pocket. Perhaps the
key of my door f^ould unlock Nelly's. I decided to try it, and was
about to re-enter the passage, when I thought I heard some one
step across the floor of the little girl's room. I drew backJ^^aud
letoiug against the thin partition, I hastily concocted an answer,
if it should happen that I found any one older than Kelly in the
chamber, to inquire into my motives for paying her so unseason-
able a visit. Then I very plainly heard Nelly's voice laised a
little above a whisper. I listened intently, but could distinguish
no words. After a moment's silence I heard a step again and the
creak of a boot. It was undoubtedly a man's footfall, and he was
walking with gTcat care. Matters were getting complicated, and
I sat down once more.
Who could be in the room ? Butler, of course ! How did ho
get there ? What devil's work was he doing ? And, hardest
question of all, what was my duty ? I don't know how long these
perplexing questions chased each other through my troubled brain,
or what rash conclusion I should have reached if I had not been
suddenly aroused by Mrs. Willis's voice at my door:
'^ Doctor, come quickly, please !" she said j " I believe she is
going !"
This abrupt summons eifectually dispelled all my doubts for the
present. I had just time to congratulate myself upon my good
fortune. If Mrs. Willis had found me trying the lock of my little
neighbour's door, I should have had all my well laid plans frustrated
at once and forever. Mrs. Baird's case was urgent Nelly's could
wait.
There was nothing peculiarly alarming about Mrs. Baird. She
was more restless and flighty, occasionally muttering some inco-
herent sentences, but I fancied that her pulse was better than
when I saw her earlier in the night. Her attendant looked pale
and careworn, and somewhat awe-stricken as she stood at the foot
of the bed. Baird was sitting in the corner, looking glum and
ugly-
CHILD STEALING. 26
" She's quieter now, sir," observed Mrs. Willis, " but she has
been going on awful."
" What has she been doing f
" She has been talking kind of wild like."
" I want the gal!" said the sick woman distinctly; "I want to
see the gal ! I tell you she is ^"
" There, there !" said Mrs. Willis ; " don't go on so. I'll bring
her to you if you want her."
" Give me some water," answered Mrs. Baird. I put a spoonful
of wine in the tumbler before she took it. I walked over to the
corner where Baird was seated, and the fellow looked as though
he expected me to decapitate him on the spot*
"Your wife is not so ill, after all," I said; "she may even re-
cover if her mind is undisturbed."
" She has been calling for Nelly, sir," replied he, starting up,
" and if you say so, I'll bring her in here. I think she misses the
child ; she used to sleep in the little crib over yonder, and she
misses her."
" Not at present," I said, as he moved towards the door ; " if
she asks for her when she wakens, you may bring her in."
She slept for more than half an hour, probably forty or fifty
minutes, and when she awoke she looked steadily at me for a
moment, as if trying to recognize me.
" How do you feel, Mrs. Baird f
" I think I'm better doctor ; I've had a good long sleep. May
they bring little Nelly in to see me f
", Yes, Mrs. Willis will bring her," and in obedience to my look
she left the room. I heard her walk along the corridor ; heard
the rattle of the key as she put it into the lock ; heard the snap of
the bolt as it shot back, and then I heard her walking swiftly
back ; she pushed the door open and, standing on the threshold,
beckoned me out.
" The child is gone !" I caught her arm as she tottered away
from the sick chamber, and taking the candle from her shaking
hand, I went to Nelly's room, Mrs. Willis following me mechani-
cally. The chamber was empty. The little crib in the corner had
been occupied, the bed clothing was turned down, and the im-
pression of little Nelly's head was plain on the pillow.
" I locked the door after she was asleep, and have had the key
in my pocket ever since," said Mrs. Willis. " Her clothes were on
the chair there by the crib ; they are gone. I remember putting
her shoes on the chair ^"
26 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
" Where is Butler !" said I, interrui)ting her.
She looked at me with a half scared expression^ but made no
reply.
'' I do not doubt," I continued, " that Butler has carried the
child away, and probably by your connivance. If my suspicious
are not entirely unfounded, you two have committed an enormous
crime, of which this child is the victim, and I swear to you that I
am resolved to ferret this mystery out. If you will tell me all of
the matter, truthfully and unreservedly, I will befriend you as far
as I may be able to do so. I am willing to believe that you have
been misled by a worse criminal, and it may be possible to save
you from any worse punishment than the gnawings of your own
conscience.''
" You are partly right and partly wrong, doctor,'' replied the
woman after a pause. " Before I called you to-night, I saw But-
ler go into his room down stairs too drunk to do more than fall
upon his bed. K you don't believe me," she added, in answer to
my incredulous look, " step down stairs now, you will find him in
the little room behind the bar."
I took the candle, and leaving her in the chamber, I went
down stairs, wondering if this could be true. I heard the man's
stertorous breathing before I opened his door. There he was,
doubled up upon the bed, with swollen features and such marks
of helpless intoxication about him as could not be simulated. I
was only a minute absent, and found Mrs. Willis where I left her.
"I think I know what has become of the child," she said,
" and, God knows, I am only glad she is gone. If you want to hear
a long story, I will tell you every word of it. If you can quiet
Mrs. Baird and send her husband to bed, I will tell you to-night."
The crisis of Mrs. Baird's case was passed. She was sleeping
quietly when we returned. I advised the landlord to leave the
patient with us, telling him that all her symptoms were favourable.
I may say here that she recovered her usual health, and seemed
to mend more rapidly after she was made to understand that the
little girl was in safe hands. I sat down near her bed, placing the
light on the hearth, and Mrs. Willis commenced her story.
MBS. WILLIS'S CONFESSION. 27
CHAPTER III.
Mes. Willis's Confession.
I AM an Englishwoman. I was bom in Devonshire. I am not
going to tire you with a long account of myself, but some things
I am obliged to tell you, as you would not otherwise understand a
great deal of the story I have to relate. I know that you will be
most interested in that part of ifc which includes the cliild's his-
tory, but I must tell it in my own way.
Ladj^ Lacy was very frequently in the village in which I was
bom. It is called Lavington, and belongs to a barony of the same
name. The Lacys had once owned large estates adjoining the
lands of Lavington, but the family had been unlucky for two
or three generations, and Sir John Lacy inherited only the old
house and park, and I think there were some mortgages on this
small remnant of the old estate when he took possession. I don't
know how he managed to get his wife, who was the only daughter
of Lord Morton, of Lavington, and who brought him enough money
to pay off all the debts on his estate, and more le8ides. He was
a careless, good soii: of a man, of whom I never heard much good
or bad, and I suppose he attracted more attention because he was
the representative of the old Lacys than from any other cause.
All that I have to tell you about him is, that he was killed by a
fall from his horse a year after his marriage, leaving his young
wife with a little baby girl, just born. This happened just seven
years ago.
Lady Lacy remained in the old house, though it might be called
a new house then, as Sir John had repaired it very thoroughly
before he took his bride into it. It was called the lied Hall, not
on aecount of its color, for it was built of gray stone, but on ac-
count of some bloody legend that belonged to the family. I don't
know rightly what the legend was, but I remember some poetry
refening to it, which predicts the early death of the head of the
house. No, sir, I don't remember the lines exactly. Maybe they
will come back to me before I finish the story. I know that I
heard people repeating the poetry when Sir John was killed, and
the villagers seemed to consider his death as the only sort of death
that a Lacy of the Ked Hall could die. I wish I could remember
the poetry.
S8 TEE LACY DIAMONDS.
Maybe I onght to mention here that Sir John was the second son
of the former baronet Before he died that is, Sir Elbert, Shr
John's father he had quarrelled with his old er son, a boy less than
ten years old, and at the end of the quarrel the boy left his father^s
house and never returned. It was said that he ran away and
came to this country and died here. I was a little girl then, but I
can recollect Sir Elbert and his remaining son going into deep
mourning. I am telling you all this to give you some idea of this
queer family. There has always been some kind of a curse follow-
ing them, that is certain.
Very soon aftex Sir John's death I went to the Hall to nurse
little Ellen. Yes, sir, the little girl who has been stolen awafjr from
this house tonight.
I don't understand the laws, and don't know anything about
Sir John's estate. Lady Lacy had plenty of money in her own
right; but I have heard the neighbours speak of the Red Hall going
to some male heir of the Liujys, who, however, never came to
claim it. There was one gentleman, Mr. Lacy Barston, who lived
in the neighbourhood, and who was a relation of Sir John's, and it
was said that the lawyers thought he was the rightful heir to the
Ited Hall and Park. But he always denied it himself, which was
curious, as he and Lady Lacy disliked each other excessively. He
was never at the Hall after Sir John married, though he was his
sworn Mend before, and people said he never went anywhere else
where he was likely to meet the baronet or his wife. All the while
I was at the Hall I never heiuxl my lady mention his name. There
was some secret cause for this mutual dislike which I tried to find
out a hundred times, but never could. Yes, sir. He was undoubt-
edly a gentleman who stood high in everybody's opinion except
my lady's. He was a sort of a lawyer, at least he had been edu-
cated for the bar, but he spent uu)st of his time in travelling,
sometimes on the continent, and sometimes to outlandish places
that nobody ever heard of before. I have known him to go off on
one of lus long tiipa maybe to South America, maybe to China
and be gone for a year or two, mul then quietly come back when
nobody was expecting him. No, sir. He had no relations that I
know of nearer than Sir John,
I don't know why I have told you all this about Mr. Barston.
Although he was never at the Bed Hall, he was everywhere else.
I can't say that I disliked him, though I always felt uncomfortable
when he was near me. I could not help thinking that he knew
MRS, WILLIS'S CONFESSION. 29
exactly what I was thinking about, and then I was always sure
to think of things that I did not want him to know when he was
in the same room. It was when I was out with the child that
1 would see him. Sometimes, when I would be driving out (for my
lady frequently sent me with Ellon when she was not disposed to'
drive herself), Mr. Barston would come galloping up after the car-
riage, and take the child before him on his horse, and gallop off
with her. He seemed to be very fond of her, and she loved him
better than anybody in the world, except her mother.
After Sir John's funeral was over, Mr. Barston came home. He
hatl been absent nearly a year, but it seemed that he was now going
to settle down. The old place, Oakland, where he lived, was re-
paired, and he rode over to the village one day to offer me the
place of housekeeper. It wa after I had agreed to go to the Red
Hall, and I could not have accepted his offer if I had fancied the
place. He persisted in his arguments when I told him I was en-
gaged to my lady, and offered me " any wages I wanted.'' I sup-
pose he was more anxious to get me, because he thought my lady
would be disappointed. Once, when he met the carriage, he re-
newed the offer, asking me when my engagement would be at an end
at the Hall, but I then told him plainly that I did not wish to
make the change. My husband was courting me then, and he
hated Mr. Barston so thoroughly, that I had learned to dislike him
too. No, sir. He was not a drinking man then 5 he has learned
to make a beast of himself in this country. Ko, sir. His name is
not Willis. His name is of no consequence. It is like enough
that Mr. Barston had caught him in some improper conduct ^poach-
ing, maybe. I remember one time, as he was handing the child
back to me after one of his gallops, he said, "Kitty, I wish you
would quit keeping company with that fellow. He is not good
enough for you, or for any other decent girl." I asked him what
he had to say against him, and he answered, " He is a brute, and
lias only a brute's instincts ; but you won't be advised by me. I
see it in your face." And so he rode off. Heigho !
My husband I was not married then had been gamekeeper for
Lord Morton. I never knew exactly why he left Lavington, though
I know he left in disgrace. He blamed Mr. Barston for interfer-
ing, as I found out from things he would let drop when speaking
of him 5 and it is very probable that Mr. Barston, who was fre-
quently at Lavington, had given my husband a bad word when-
ever he had the chance. During Sir John's lifetime there was
30 THE LACY DIAMONDS,
some liard quarrel between liim and Mr. Barston, which my hus-
band helped to aggravate in some way. He never told me the
particulars. I only know that he had kept them apart a long time
after they were willmg to be friends again. I just remember the
lines I spoke of, and may as well repeat them before I forget them
again. I never could see any sense in them myself.
"A Bcoro and a half score he ne'er shall attain,
Wlio holds the Red Hall and the Lacy's proud name "
I have forgotten it again. It is something about bloody jewels,
but the principal thing is the prophecy that no Lacy should live
thirty years, and they do say that they have always died young,
and always by some ^dolent death. There is something in the
poetry about " kinsman's blood f maybe I'll remember it all before
I finish my story. Sir Elbert was found dead in his bed the day
before his birthday, when he would have been thirty. There were
marks of violence, I have heard, but no one ever knew who killed
him. He was married very young had married against the
wishes of his relations and friends, and both his sons were bom
, before he was of age. His wife died when Sir John was bom.
My husband ^yes, sir, certainly. We were married in Scotland,
by Scottish law, as you will hear presently. I was going to say
that my husband has always hated all the Lacys and all belong-
ing to them. I really don't know what reason he has, but I am
certain of the fact.
You want to know about my marriage *? Well, sir, we were in
Scotland. My lady and her bosom friend. Miss Clare Tam worth,
had a cottage near Stirling. One day, when I was driving with .
Ellen, Mr. Barston came galloping after the carriage. He had
been away a year or two, but the child remembered him, and
clamoured for him to take her on his horse. I cannot understand
why my lady allowed it. She always knew it, for the child always
told her. Ko, sir ; she never mentioned Mr. Lacy Barston's name
to me, or to any one else, so far as I know. But she might easily
have told me to keep EUen in the carriage if she objected to her
gallops with Mr. Barston- However, he told me that day to meet
him at the same place an hour later, and rode off with the child.
I had to go to Stirling to get a brooch which my lady had left at
a jeweller's to be repaired, and while I was in the shop Mr. ,
my husband, came in. He was dressed like a gentleman. I had
left him at Lavington a month before, and had received two or
three letters from him, but did not Bxpect him. The coachman
'MES, WILLIS'S CONFESSION. 31
had taken the carriage somewhere to get a bolt replaced that had
been lost, and , my husband, told me he had come to many
me, and had arranged everything for the ceremony in a neigh-
bouring street. I was easily persuaded, for I loved him. When
we reached the place I think it was a magistrate's office he told
me I must answer to the name the man asked, and to write it in a
book. I don't see why you should insist on knowing the name,
but it makes no diflference over here. It was Clare Tamworth.
Yes, sir, he did sign his real name. I shall not tell you what name
he signed. The marriage was legal. I asked a lawyer, who cer-
tainly knew all about it, and I have the certificate. After we
were married he walked back to the jeweller's and left me there,
bidding me keep the marriage secret until he gave me leave to
tell, I did not see him again or hear from him until a month
later. . '
My story is almost done, sir. Last summer we went to Clifton,
Tvhere Miss Tamworth lived. I used to take Nellie out on the
Downs every fine day between luncheon time and dinner. Some-
times my lady and Miss Tamworth would be with us, and some-
times we would be alone. One day Nellie and I wandered down
to the bank of the river ^the Avon. A large ship was going
down the river from Bristol going out to sea. The tide was
rising, but was not high enough', and the vessel came close to the
bank and got aground. There was a great deal of confusion on
board. Some sailors got into a boat and brought a rope ashore
to fasten the ship until the tide was high enough to float her off.
While I was watching the sailors a gentleman clambered over the
side of the ship and leaped down on the shore. It was my hus-
band.
" Kitty, my dear," he said, " Fve come for you. I was going to
walk over from Bristol, but the ship sailed twelve hours before the
appointed time. The captain suddenly decided to go out on this
tide, and I should have missed you if we had not got aground."
I was very much bewildered. I was glad to see him, of course,
and I was only too happy in the prospect of going away with him.
" ni take Nelly home, then "
"That is impossible," he answered; "the ship will be afloat
before you could get up the bank. Bring her with you. We can
send her home by the pilot boat. Nellie, do you want to go on the
big ship F
" Yes, yes !" replied the chiy eagerly ; and before I eowVi q^^t
32 THE LACY DIAMONDS,
an objection he took her in his arms and stepped in the little boat.
I followed, hardly knowing what I was doing, and in a few min-
utes w^e were climbing over the side of the vessel.
" I have no clothes,'' I whispered, as he di'ew my arm through
his; " and I cannot possibly go in this way "
" Pooh, pooh ! I've a trunk full of dresses in the cabin a regu-
lar outfit. This is the lady, captain Mrs. Butler "
" And daughter F replied the captain, touching his cap to me.
*' You did not mention the cliild, Mr. Butler."
" Didn't I ? I forgot it, I 8upi)ose. Come on, my dear; I will
show you the cabin," and we went down stairs.
All this occurred more rapidly than I can tell you, and I did not
exactly know what I was doing until we were all in our state-
room. While Kellie was engrossed with the strange sights
around her, my husband endeavoured to pacify me .with his expla-
nations. He said he had been several weeks in Bristol, had taken
passage in this ship for himself and wife, had bought "my outfit,"
as he called it, and was coming to Clifton for me that evening.
When he found the ship was actually going in the afternoon, instead
of the next morning, he made up his mind to go in her, and write
for me from America. He said " a good Providence " had run the
ship aground just at that spot. I thought so too, then, but now I
think it was a bad devil !
The ship was soon moving. A little tug towed her down the
long river very slowly, because the tide was coming in so strongly,
and it was dark before we were in the channel. The child went
to sleep, and I laid her in one of the berths. It was almost mid-
night when the pilot went off in the tug. I could not send Nellie
I could not bear to do it ; so my husband bade me write a letter to
my lady which he sent by the pilot.
The next morning we were at sea. I have never known a happy
hour since that day. Nellie was told I told her, that the ship had
sailed away with us while she was asleep, and that she must call
me " mother " and Mr. Butler " papa" while we were aboard, and
that we would take her home whenever we could " get the ship to
turn round." We told her she must not say anything to the cap-
tain about her real mother, for fear he would not take us back.
She is a wonderfully oM. child, and she obeyed me implicitly. She
was not much distressed, and if she had not cried for her mother
sometimes in the night I would not have been so miserable. We
reached New York in twelve days and came directly here. My
JOHN HAWDERS STORY. 33
husband has been getting drunk nearly every day since we came.
We have a house not very far from Hawder's. N^o, sir I I dare
not tell you my husband's name ; he would kill me I I have not
dared to write to my lady since we landed, but I have made many
X)lans to get away with Nellie and get back to England. I am cer-
tain my husband did not intend to bring her away, and he sol
emnly swore to me only yesterday that he would take me and
her back as soon as the spring opens. If he would only leave off
drinking I believe he would do it. He has no business, sir. I
don't know where he gets his money. Mrs. Baird is awake.
CHAPTEE IV.
John Hawder's Story.
I DON'T think talking hurts me a bit, doctor. You have
pulled me through this bout so fast that I feel quite well
enough to go out if you would allow me 5 but if you won't, you
can let me sit up here in the blessed sunlight at least. English!
Yes, sir! Devonshire, too, the garden spot of the world! The
Jjacys ? oh, yes, I have known them all my life. They are a queer
lot, but I can't say they are altogether bad leastways not all of
them. Sir Elbert was a real gentleman, though he was head-
strong and violent. He was always very kind to me, and was
godfather to my poor brother, who is now in heaven, and I called
my boy after him. My father was Sir Elbert's steward, and his
oldest son. Master Elbert, was born the same day I was. I remem-
ber well enough playing with him and his brother, the late Sir
John, when we were all younger than my boy yonder. I was too
young to know much about the final quarrel between Sir Elbert
and his son, but I heard a good many of them. Sir Elbert was
violent and the boy was fierce. He was proud as Lucifer, and
when his father struck him that morning, he said, " You are my
father, and I cannot strike you back, but I'll leave your house,"
and that night he ran away. Within a year he died, or was killed
in some horrible way, I don't know how, and Sir Elbert did not
live long after him. The prophecy I Well, sir, the people used
to say there was a prophecy about the Lacys dying young. 1
don't know it It was something about " bloody ^^^N^\&.^^ kSX^x
3
34 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
Sir Elbert's death his son, Sir John, went to live at Oakland with
Mr. Barston, who was his uncle. He was not very rich, but lived
in a quiet way among his books ; and his two boys, as he called
them, that is his son Lacy and Sir John, grew up together. They
were a good deal more like real brothers than the two young Lacys
were, and I am sure they loved each other dearly. Mrs. Barston
was Sir Elbert's sister, and one of the best women that ever lived.
The people called her Lady Mary, though she had no title. There
is another tradition current in the neighbourhood, which says all
the bad of the *' haughty Lacys " is monopolized by the men of the
race and all the good is monopolized by the women.
It has been nearly a dozen years since I saw or heard anything
about Devonshire people. My father had a large family, and I
persuaded him to let me come to this country when I was quite a
youth. 1 had been fairly educated, and thought I could make my
own way in the world if I only had room. But I have never been
lucky, somehow, though I have always managed just to get along
and keep my head above water. And now I am thinking of tak-
ing my boy to Devonshire, and let him grow up among his own kin.
Oh, yes, sir, I am sure of employment that will yield me enough
for my wants.
You wish me to tell you what I know of Mr. Butler If I would
rather talk about something else. I suppose you have some good
reason for asking, but I don't know anything very good about
him, and have no desire to harm him in any way. You are very
good, sir 5 but I do not believe you can ever befriend Butler, un-
less you could make him leave off his drink, and that cannot be
done. I have known him to be perfectly sober for a year at a time,
and then suddenly fall back again into his old habits. He is terri-
ble whoA he begins one of his spells, but he soon gets stupid and
hannless. The first time I ever saw him was six or seven years
. ago. It was in New York. I can tell you about that, certainly. I
was working in one of the theatres, doing odd jobs and getting
very fair pay. I had to stay until late. When I had finished my
. duties, I went through the stage door into the boxes, to see the last
. of the play, and just as the curtain fell there was a row near me.
One man was fighting two, and that seemed wrong in my English
eyes. So I went in and took one of the two in hand. It only
lasted a minute or two. I polished my man off, and then I saw
some policemen coming, and I slipped back by the stage door.
Before I got through it the single man followed me, crossed the
JOHN HAWDEES STORY, 35
stage with me, and we were soon in a side street and safe. It was
Butler. He was perfectly sober, was well dressed, and looked like
a gentleman, and talked like one. The fellow he was fighting had
a knife and had cut him a little in the arm, and I took him home
with me and dressed his wounds, and then made him a bed on the
sofa. He had that scar on his forehead, and it was something that
the bruisers at the theatre had said about that which brought on
the fight.
When I went down stairs the next morning I found Butler up
and dressed. He was trying to get the blood stains off his coat
sleeve. I got him a needle and thread, and he sewed up the cuts
in his sleeve very neatly. " I learned that at sea," he said. My
wife was sick, and Elbert was a baby then. I kindled a fire and
made some tea. After he drank a cup he got up to go.
" You're English," he said, " and your name is Hawder. I read
it in the Bible yonder before you came down. I am going now,
but I want to come to see you again some time. I have nothing
to say about last night's work. If I had seen you or any other
man beset by two bullies, I should have done what you did. So
would any Englishman. I hope your wife will soon be well again.
Good-bye."
She didn't get well again. A month later I buried her. When
- 1 got back from the funeral I found Butler at my door. I was
not in very good spirits, and did not want company, but I had to
invite him in. He did not talk much, as he was pretty full of rum.
I made up a bed for him again and left him asleep. In the morn-
ing he was worse. He had been drinking in the night and was
furious. He talked a lot of wild stuff about being at sea, and
fights on bloody decks and bs^s of doubloons. I was not much
afraid of him, though he was frightful enough ; but I could not
leave my baby boy in the house with him 5 so I took the child out
by a back door, and left him with a neighbour when I went to my
work. When I went back at dusk he was gone. He repeated
this the next week, and I don't know why I endured it as long
as I did. Somehow I could not get my own consent to turn
liim out or refuse him admittance. He was an Englishman, and
somehow, he seemed to think he had a sort of claim upon me 5
j)erhaps because we had been in the scuffle together at the theatre.
And besides, he would come sometimes well dressed, with nice kid
gloves on his hands he has very small white hands and would
behave like a gentleman. He would tell interesting stories about
\
36 THE LACY DIAMONDS,
storms at sea, or about adventures with savages in some tropical
island. One night, I remember, he told how he and a shipmate
had got lost in the bush. It was on the other side of the world 1
think in Australia. They had gone ashore to lill their water
casks. He must have been an officer, as he left the men at their
work and wandered off into the woods with his companion. " We
did not know we were lost until dark,'' he said ; *' in those latitudes
the sun goes down like a shot. We did not have much time for
discussion before we knew that we were among enemies. A long
spear came glancing through the bushes and plunged into a tree
trunk by our side, and quivered wickedly in the failing light.
There was only one thing to be done, and that was to charge in
the direction from which the spear came while we could see. So
we tore our cutlasses out and dashed into the dark bushes, shout-
ing aloud in English for our men. Another spear met us and
made an ugly hole in Jack's side. I suppose that hurt cost half a
dozen of the niggers their lives, for we were among them in a
minute, and Jack laid about him like mad ! I was as cool as I am
now, and kept up the shouting while I fought. My pistols were
emptied very soon, and no shots were wasted. There seemed to
be a hundred of the black devils, and they would have finished
my history pretty soon, if the men had not come up, and if I had
not been wise enough to keep close to the savages so that they
could not use their spears. Half a dozen pistol shots from the men
concluded the fight. The savages disappeared like a lot of ghosts.
We had to leave poor Jack, who had fought his last battle. My
only hurt was a wound in the head, that was not dangerous."
"Is that the scar on your forehead f I asked. His face sud-
denly became ghastly pale, while the ugly seam grew purple. At
last he answered :
" No ! And, Mr. Hawder, please remember that all reference tp
this beauty spot of mine is forbidden for all time to come. And
now good-night." And he walked out of the house before I could
speak.
He came afterwards, and did not seem to remember my unluckj^
question, which I need not say was never repeated. I asked him
on one occasion, when he was telling of some other fight he and
his men had, how it happened that they were armed ? He looked
at me with a queer expression, and said " it was customary down
thercj^ but that was the last of his fighting stories. When he was
drunk he would talk all kinds of outlandish gibberish, but never
JOHN EAWDERS STORY. 3t
said anything that was connected or comprehensible. I have
never known him to laugh, except in such a horrid fashion that
it made my flesh creep. My belief is that some dreadful secret is
on lus mind, connected with that ugly scar, maybe, that drives
Mm to drink as he does.
One of the theatre managers owns this farm, and he offered me
enough money to give me a bare living, with this house to live in,
jfl would come here and oversee his land. I was tired of New
^ork, and tired of Mr. Butler, and my boy was puny and fretful,
so I consented and moved here two years ago. Elbert seemed to
Stow strong and healthy at once, and I was able to have him
instantly with me, and as I left no traces, I lost Mr. Butler or
^^ther he lost me. I never saw him after I moved until last
Autumn ^it was October ; the boy and I were in the orchard yon-
der gathering apples. We were under the big tree by the road
^ide when a Jersey wagon came down the road, and the man who
^^as driving stopped his horse, and asked me the way to Baird's.
^t was Butler. He had a lady and a little girl with him, and one
^^r two trunks were in the back part of the wagon. He knew me,
^Df course, and I knew him, but he gave no sign of recognition, and
Neither did I. He thanked me civilly for the information I gave
^im and then drove on. I have not seen him since, but I he^rd
liis voice the other night, when Mr. Smith was nursing me so
iindly.
Did I know Mr. Lacy Barston ? Yes, sir, I knew him well. He
^as a mere stripling when I left England. Heigho ! It is a won-
derful relief to change the subject of discourse. Mr. Barston is,
or was, the noblest gentleman I ev^er knew or heard of. Ko Lacy
blood in him, except what he got from his mother. Lady Mary,
and he could get nothing but good from her. His father was not
^ch, and he had very little pocket money, but what he had was
mostly spent for the comfort of poor people about Oakland. I
remember that he and Sir John were out shooting one day, and
Sir John shot at an old horse of Farmer Dawson's in pure wanton-
ness. The horse was too far oft* for the shot to hurt him, but he
was frightened, and tried to leap over a fence and got staked, so
that he had to be shot in earnest. Mr. Barston said nothing about
it, but he saved up his Aveekly allowance until he had enough to
buy another horse, which he sent to Dawson with Sir John^s good
toislies. I know all about it, because I took the. horse and the
message, being bound to secresy first. I never saw him out of
38 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
temper in my life, though I have known hini to endure bad treat-
ment from his cousin more than once, and fairly conquer him at last
by sheer amiability. It was not for want of pluck, sir. He could
have doubled up Sir John in two minutes, and I don't believe lie
knew what fear was. He was always playing off some prank, and
his whole life appeared to be one joke. His great delight was to
disguise himself and pass himself off for somebody else. ' The
last trick I knew him to play was upon Lord Morton, to whom he
got introduced as a French governess. He wrote a lot of letters
from i)eople Lord Morton knew, aud took them himself to Laving-
ton, and actually was engaged by Lord and Lady Morton for their
daughter. Miss Eet, now Lady Lacy. It was she who discovered
him after he had deceived everybody else. They did not agree,
for some reason, though there was never any quarreling between
them. Oh no, sir ! he only passed himself off for the French
woman for a joke. None of his jokes ever hurt anybody. He
would not harm a fly.
Since I left England I have heard of his father's death, and also
that he had inherited a good lot of money from some distant
cousin. And in the last half dozen years he has wandered all
over the earth. No one can tell where he is at any time certainly.
He has been in Australia, in South America, and once on a polar
expedition, where he was caught two winters in the ice. Yes, sir,
I think he has been in this country too. Well, yes, sir, I may say I
haow he has. Have I ever seen him here ? Well, sir, I might have
seen him many a time without knowing him, as he can make him-
self look like anybody rather than himself. Have I never seen
him to know him ? Well, sir, you know if I had seen him in
any other character than his own I would not feel at liberty to
; thank you sir, I am sure you would not wish me to betray any
confidence. I don't mean, though, that I have been bound up ; I
mean I don't mean anything. I feel a little tired talking so
much ; might I go lie down awhile % Thank you, sir.
CAPTAIN STRONG'S STORY. 39
CHAPTEE Y.
Captain Stbong^s Story.
I AM. captain of the royal mail steamer " Austria," belong-
lig to the New York and Liverpool line. I have crossed the
Atlantic ninety times^ and have seen all sorts of weather. Yes', I
have carried all sorts of people, too. Perhaps the queerest lot I
ever carried was on my last voyage. The ship left Xew York at
noon on the tenth day of April, in the midst of a blinding snow
storm. I remember that everything about the land was white,
and that we sailed into bright skies and shook the snow out of our
sails before dark when the pilot left us. The wind came cold and
strong off the Long Island coast, which lay all white on our lar-
board quarter, and took the old ship like a race horse out of sight
of land. We had but few passengers, as it was too early in the season
for the Yankee rush. You know the Yankees don't begin until
May. The day before we sailed a nice gentleman came aboard to
look at his state room and arrange his trunks. I had a list of my
Ijassengers, or rather the purser had, and we looked through the
list to find his number, as he had forgotten it. We soon found it
" Mr. John Smith and daughter." He had one of the best state
rooms in the ship. The twin room next to it, number six, was
taken by Mr. and Mrs. Barston. Mr. Smith seemed to think this
w^as f3L queer name, and asked me a great many questions about
them. But I could not tell him, as I had not seen them. But at
sailing time there was no '* Mr. Smith and daughter," and I had
to go without them. Just before dark, when the pilot boat
quitted us, an old gentleman, who had a bright little boy by the
hand, handed me a letter, which only contained a line or two. 1
remember every word of it. " Mr. John Smith presents his com-
pliments to Captain Strong, and regrets that his name must be
erased from the passenger list. But his friend, Mr. John Jones,
the bearer, has taken Mr. Smith's ticket for himself and son, and
the agents have kindly consented to the transfer. Mr. Jones will
take charge of Mr. Smith's luggage to Liverpool, as he has very
little of his own." Of course I was bound to be polite to the old
gentleman, who was very feeble, and I showed him to his state
room, number eight. Mr. and Mrs. Barston were already in num-
ber six. I think Mr. Barston had had something to drink before
he came aboard, and I know he had had something since the ship
40 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
left her dock. Mr. Barstou kept up steam enough to run the ship
in his own stateroom. His wife, who was a very handsome woman,
stuck faithfully by him and must Iiave had a hard time. She was
seasick, too, poor thing. For a whole week she never got on deck,
and her husband never stopped drinking. He had a bottle of
chaiftpagne at breakfast time, and always linishod it beforete left
the table. He was veiy polite, especially to old Mr. Jones (who
sat next to him), and would have been good looking enough if it
had not been for a long seam across his forehead that looked like
a sword cut. It was generally red, but when he would take a
tantrum, which was pretty often, it would get purple, and then he
looked like the devil. The steward always had to take him to
his state room from the table, while the stewardess took care of
his poor wife, who did not eat enough to sustain a snipe.
Old Mr. Jones was very regular in his habits. In the morning
he and his little boy, Johnny, had a regular romp on deck. They
had it all to themselves, as none of the other passengers got about
so early. The child was very shy, and I could never get more
than a word or two out of him, and he was always watching his
father as if he wanted to know what he would like him to say. I
picked him up one day suddenly, to show him a school of por-
poises near the ship, and asked him, *' Is your name Johnny I''
Bless you, he was only a mite, but he opened his eyes wide and
sharp and answered, "That's what papa calls me!" I hadn't
time to ask him any more, as the old gentleman took him out of
my arms, saying, " He is the best child alive, captain, but is a
little shy !''
After breakfast the old gentleman always went into the second
cabin. You know the second cabin passengers could not come
into the saloon, and could not come abaft the mainmast, but the
first cabin passengers could go where they liked. Mr. Jones was
very fond of pottering about among the seasick passengers and
brightening them up a bit. There was one poor fellow, a Mr.
Hawder, who was very miserable, but Mr. Jones actually got hini
on deck a day or two before we saw the Irish coast. He had a
boy with him, too, a bright little fellow who staid by his father
all the time. When Mr. Jones got them up and comfortably fixed
near the funnel, he went down after his boy, and walked about
the deck for some hours. I suppose the children would have
liked to play together, but the old gentleman kept to his own part
of the deck and never let go his boy's hand. It was all well
enough, you know, for him to go among the second class passea-
CAPTAIN STRONG' 8 STORY, 41
gers, but he did not intend the child to form any second class
acquaintances. Bless you! he was as proud as Lucifer!
I am coming now to the end of my story. We sighted the coast
on Sunday, a gale blowing from the nor'west. It was just after
dinner and nigh dark. We had had good weather until that Sun-
day, Imt it came in with a gale of wind, and by night it was a
regulaPstorm. Most of the passengers were huddled in their
berths, but when the storm was knocking the old ship the hardest,
who should jijlne on deck but Mr. Barston ! He had been pretty
sober all day^^that is, for him. But I have always noticed that a
man who gets champagne drunk I mean a good regular drunk
don't get entirely sober under a week. His wife was not able to
be with him, as the rough sea had put her to bed, where she lay
helpless and miserable. Old Mr. Jones had Mr. Barston's arm,
and they both appeared rather to like the weather than otherwise.
" I think you will find it more comfortable below, gentlemen," I
said, as they clung to the rail on the lee side of the gangway.
" Below !'' shouted Mr. Barston. " Why, captain, this is glori-v
ous! It is the first good weather you have had. I liave been
caught in a cyclone twice, and could sleep comfortably on deck in
this little breeze.''
" But, Mr. Jones ^
" Kever mind me, captain," said the old gentleman. " I, also,
have seen worse storms than this. Mr. Barston was anxious to
tell me a story, as he expresses it, and says he can only tell it in
the open air."
They seated themselves on the edge of the skylight grating,
just under -the lee of my cabin. I was studying my charts, and
was within a yard of them while they sat there.
"You will remember, then, Mr. Barston," said I, "that you
must not talk any secrets, as I cannot help overhearing you."
" All right, captain ! My story is only a bit of romance that I
am anxious to tell Mr. Jones. I dare say it will put you to sleep
if you listen."
But I didn't go to sleep. And when the story was over I half
fancied that I should never go to sleep again ! I had put the ship
bead to wind, and felt pretty safe for the night, and only wished
to confirm my judgment by going over the charts once more. Mr.
Barston had evidently a fit of the horrors, as no man perfectly
sane could have said the things he said. I cannot understand to
this day how poor old Mr. Jones took the thing so quietly, Tlift^
42 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
sat there, and talked and smoked cigars, raising their voices when
the wind howled through the rigging, but neither of them paying
the smallest attention to the storm, which was about as bad a
storm as I ever encountered.
^' Well, Mr. Jones,'' began the other, " my story is about some
English people boys and girls, and men and women. You are
an Englishman I'' ^
" Yes.''
" I thought so. But it is not likely that you ever heard of my
boys and girls. Let me see ! There were two boys, brothers, who
lived in England no matter what part some years ago ! What
did you call that youngster of yours f
'' John."
''And that kid of Hawder's is called Elbert, is he notF
" Yes."
" Well, let me call my two boys Elbert and John. Those names
will do to distinguish them as well as any. Elbert was the elder
by a year, and was heir to a good name and a fairish estate. But
his father spent about eight years in developing whatever there
Avas of the devil in the elder boy, and at the end of that period
struck him. On the same night Elbert ran away, and he never
set foot in his father's house afterwards. In a year or two his
father heard of his death, and not long after died himself j so John
was left the last of his race. Do you understand ?"
" Yes."
'' Elbert walked out of his father's house a mere child, mind
you and within a mile he fell in with a company of roving players,
who took pity on him, and gave him a blanket to sleep on in their
tent. By daylight they were off, taking the boy with them. He
had a little pocket money, but the^^ would take none of it. During
the day they plodded on, aiming to reach some village by night-
fall, w^hen they would spread their tent and gather all the loose
shillings they could by their performances. One of the actors had
a daughter about Elbert's age. Her name was well, call her
Kitty Willis as Willis was her father's name, and Kitty Avill do
as well as any name to designate her. Elbert told this girl his
story the exact truth and they two kept the secret. She was
kind to him then and always. God bless her ! She ought to be
blessed, for nobody else was ever kind to him ! It seems to me
now, as 1 recall his story, that he came into the world at enmity
with humanity, and that poor little girl, the half orphan daughter
CAPTAIN 8TR0NCPS STORY. 43
of a strolling player, set herself against humanity in pitying and
befriending him !
" For three months the boy wandered through the provinces, tak-
ing some little parts in their plays sometimes, rather tolerated than
otherwise, and leading a hard enough sort of life. The other child
kept a sort of watch over him, and did what she could to lighten his
burdenafJ He was a mere mite, you know. But it never once oc-
curred to him that he might go back to his father's house and live
like a gentleman. One day^ three months after he had left his
home, the players were in Liverpool, and Elbert was accosted in
the street by a gentleman who recognizedhim a Mr. . 'Eo mat-
ter ; he was a neighbour of his father's. Yes related to him. He
^the'old gentleman said the boy must certainly return to his
father's house. The boy answered by darting down an alley and
escaped. But before he got away the old gentleman had extorted
a promise from him that he would communicate with his father
the next day. So he kept his promise. He addressed a note the
next evening to his father from the deck of the Hindoo^ a Cal-
cutta liner, and gave it to the i)ilot at the mouth of the Mersey.
He had shipped as a cabin boy, a poor orphan who could read and
write a little. Twenty years ago the Hindoo sailed probably with-
in a few miles of this very spot. She was spoken just out of sight
of land, and she was never heard of again I
"But master Elbert could tell the history of that voyage if you
could only get at him ! The ship got round the Cape and was
crawling along under light breezes in the Bay of Bengal when
she met another ship. This was a brigantine, which outsailed the
Hindoo in the light wind, and was soon within half a mile, and
then she hoisted a black flag and began to fire upon the big ship.
The boy could not give many details. He could tell of a day's
fighting under that burning sun, of decks slippery with blood,
of the gallant stand made by a score of desperate men as a
hundred fiends at last clambered on board. He could remember
the hopeless struggle against enormous odds, and the death of the
last man who resisted. He could tell how the pirate captain hes-
itated a moment whether or not to chop off his head also, and
finally concluded to spare him, because he cursed him to his face!
He could also tell how the ship was gutted and scuttled, and how he,
the solitary survivor of all her company, sailed away from the scene
of the strife, imder the black flag of the pirate, as her cabin boy.
'' The brigantine was manned by men of all nations. The eaytaiiv
44 THE LACY DIAMONDS,
was an American, and his name was Butler. He was the mosC
hideous mortal that ever lived. He was all brnte. But, for som^
unaccountable reason, he took a liking to that boy the waif h^
had gathered from the sea and though he cursed him twenty
times a day, he did not maltreat him. For ten years, in which the
boy passed into manhood, he was the constant companion of that
brute. And when the captain died must I tell you how he died f
Well ! It was on the other side of the world.
** They had a law on the brig, in fact they had several laws. One
related to the distribution of gains. Every man had the same
share in the gains, which were sometimes honest enough, except
that the ship paid no customs. She was an armed smuggler, and
they had an island on the Australian coast, which was totally in-
accessible except at one spot known only to the smugglers. It
Avas the mouth of a little river, almost concealed by the dense
undergrowth, but affording secure anchorage. It was a famous
hiding place. Here they would land .their guns sometimes, and
leaving nine-tenths of the crew, would sail out, their yards all
down, and go on a trading expedition under fore and aft sails.
An officer or two staid with the shore crew and maintained disci-
I)line, which was rigid and inexorable. Another law related to
quarrels, which were infrequent. This provided that any serious
quarrel should be settled by the quarrelers. They were landed at
some safe place, armed only with cutlasses, and time allowed them
to settle their differences. The survivor was taken aboard and
no questions asked. Officers were the peers of officers, and they
could not quarrel except among themselves. The men were not
allowed to answer officers, and no disputes were possible.
'' Elbert was a lieutenant. He had been promoted, as all officers
were, by the unanimous vote of the men. He had done something
that the men thought iartieularly jilucky in a little fight with
savages. The ca))tain would have prevented the promotion if he
dared, but he was i)owerless against the unanimous vote of the
crew. But it was possible to tantalize the boy ^for he was under
twenty when he was elected and one day there was a savage
quarrel. You may think it strange, but they quarrelled about
their nationalities. One might think all love or respect for one's
country would die out in such a life, but it did not. Each said
some terribly hard things about the other's birth j)lace, and at last
some words were spoken that brought the steel out of the scab-
bard. They were quickly disarmed, the brig's head put about,
CAPTAIN STRONG'S STORY. 45
and the next day they were on the Australian coast, far out of the
track of ordinary traffic. A boat was lowered, and the captain
and Elbert were landed with their weapons in their belts. As
they walked into tlie bush Elbert recognized the old battle ground
where he had encountered the savages a few months before.
" I don't know whether you are enough interested in the boy to
care about his emotions, but I may as well tell them. He thought
first of his kindred in far-off England, and the thought of them
made him more eager to settle accounts with Butler, who had
dared to traduce them in traducing his country. Then he
thought of the fierce struggle that had occurred under those very
trees when he had fought his way from forecastle to quarter deck.
Then he thought of a resolution he had formed, which was to quit
that accursed vessel that day, dead or alive ! He had collected all
his booty, which was mainly in Bank of England notes, and it was
belted around his body. He had exchanged a lot of gold for this
money the last time the brig had been a schooner, when they were
in a civilized port. It was Melbourne.
" A hundred yards from the shore ^it was a little bay on the north
coast they came out of the bushes upon a sandy opening, and
Elbert unbuckled his sword belt, drew his cutlass, and threw belt
and scabbard on the ground.
^' See here, Britisher !" said Butler, as he bared bis own blade,
" have you any objection to jaw a little before we begin P
^' ^KTone in the world, except that time presses. There is a storm
brewing, and the brig would be safer a little farther from the
shore."
" Wa-ali'' drawled the captain,'' we need not trouble ourselves
about the brig. I have a proposition to make !"
" Make it !"
" Wa-al ! I bear no malice. If we git to choppin' one another
here, I guess we'll both git hurt some. I don't want to hurt you
particular, and dam'me if I want to git hurt myself!"
" I do not understand you !"
" Oh, it's all plain enough. Instead of fightin', s'pose we toss up f
whichever wins shall return to the brig. The other stays here !"
" I am not going back to the brig in any event," answered El-
bert coldly. " If you will apologize for your insulting words, you
may return and welcome."
"And if not ^"
" 1 will assault you when I count ten. One, two, three, four "
46 THE LACY DIAMONDS,
"Hold hard, Britisher! I cave! There's my hand. What!
you won't take it I Wa-al ! no matter. I apologize for what I said,
and I think you might oblige me by tossing up! You won't 1
Waal, I'll go then. Look here, boy! Don't be fool enough to
think I am afeard to fight you. You have seen me tackle bigger
men before now. The truth is I am sick of the brig, and I did not
want to kill you, and if you had a grain of sense you would go
back! They would make you captain! You won't! Wa-al?
good bye, and good luck to you! It is not likely that we shall
meet again this side of whatever place sich good people as us
go to! I s'pose you know that bushmen live hereabouts f
"Yes. I saw a few of them just where 3^ou stand only three
months ago !"
" Waal ! that's cur'ous. But I b'lieve you're right; and if you
think this is a healthy spot, I don't. You are not likely to come
off as well this time as the last, and the best piece of advice I can
give you is to keep your eyes skun ! Good bye."
" Elbert watched him as he pushed his wa^'^ through the bushes,
picked up his belt and sheathed his weapon, and then creeping on
hands and knees, gained a little knoll near the beach, and saw the
captain ostentatiously wiping his bloodless cutlass on a handful
of broad leaves that he had plucked as he passed through the bush,
and stepping into the rocking boat. Half an hour later the boat
was hanging at the davits, and the hoarse song of the crew as they
hoisted in the anchor came floating over the water.
" The heavens were black, and the wind came in little fitful gusts,
as the brig expanded her wings and turned her prow seaward.
Elbert climbed a tree on the high ground and watched the vessel,
as she rose and fell, slowly crawling away from the coast. Then he
fastened himself securely in a fork of the tree with his sword belt,
and fell asleep sleeping as only a sailor can sleep amid the roar of
the storm, as it swept over land and sea. You hear the wind now f
Well, it is a mere zephyr compared with that tropical tornado !
" Now there are two or three things that I must tell you to make
my story hang together. First, about the boy. In the ten years
he spent in that floating hell he had never once forgotten that he
was born a gentleman. All his gains were honest gains, barring
the absurd customs. He participated in the profits of smuggUug,
but he shared not in the profits of piracy, though these were by far
the larger. Again, he had never destroyed human life, except in
one terrible fight with savages, so brutal that they might scarcely'
CAPTAIN STRONG'S STORY, 47
be called human, and then he fought for his own life. In the hor-
rid conflicts that occurred, though rarely, he simply refused to take
a part, though he also refused to shelter himself while the fight
lasted. He would stand on the deck and take his share of shot
or sabre stroke, though he would not strike back. His life was
preserved by one long miracle ^reserved for worse horrors than
any he encountered on the pirate's deck.
" The second point relates to the ship. It would seem incredible
tliat a vessel should live a dozen years in these days of steam,
jTeying upon all mankind. But it is nearly certain that no man
lived who knew the true character of the innocent schooner
-^^QV'i whose marine papers were always straight and regular.
She remained the Feggy until she disappeared in the thick
growth of her secret anchorage, and when she emerged, brig
^igrged, with her two terrible guns, she was altogether another
ship. And again, whenever she assaulted a strange sail, it was
clearly understood by every man under her flag that it must be
^^ictory or death ; and also, that no witnesses must be left when
tlxo victory was won ! When she left the island armed for piracj^,
^very man was required to be on board, and when she sailed away
from the coast that afternoon, she carried with her every mortal
"tliat; knew her except the boy that was peacefully sleeping in the
^i*ee. As for him, his chance of escape from that dreary wilder-
ness was less than it would have been had he been cast into the
soa a thousand miles from land, with an oar to keep him afloat.
*' The third point relates to the strange proposition of Butler to
remain in the wilderness, and allow Elbert to return to the ship.
I oannot explain his conduct. It is not credible that he was
aft'a^id, or that he doubted as to the result of the combat. If they
had fought he would have killed the boy, for he was a cold blooded
svoxder of no ordinary skill. There may have been some lingering
^y of human feeling left in his wicked bosom. The boy had
iiuxrsed him once when he was badly wounded and mad with
fev^^Xj and staid by him, enduring his curses, until the crisis was
past. Or he may have had some plan of escape that I cannot
^^oeive. The north coast of Australia, in that day, was the
crxt^rofthepit!
' * The last point relates to the boy sleeping in the tree top. How
^^Id he sleep, knowing all I have told you f I cannot explain
this either. He had lived a hard life, and had gathered some sort
of pliilosophy out of it. He had carried his life in Ma Iv^w'^^ ^q
48 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
long that Le did not value it very highly. He was young and
strong and hopeful, and he saw his dismal prison floating away
from him. And God had been merciful to him thus far, for his
hands were unstained. Poor, poor boy! if you had known him
you would Jiave pitied him also."
I do pity him from the core of my heart,'' replied Mr. Jones.
"Do you? Well, well! the boy slept; possibly because there
was a natural reaction from high excitement. When he opened
his eyes the tempest was over, and the streaks in the eastern sky
betokened the approach of day. The sun rose out of the tossing
waves, and Elbert, hungry and thirsty, began to estimate his
chances and form his plans. He climbed higher up the tree and
peered anxiously into the virgin forest, wondering how long it
would be before he would see the long spear of the bushman
glancing among the green leaves. Then he looked seaward along
the line of coast, and he saw two things. First, the hull of a ship,
dismasted and broken, rolling in towards the beach, and second,
the body of a man in the water, bobbing up and down, almost at
the foot of the tree. He descended rapidly, and pausing to plunge
his head in the little stream that trickled over the sand, and to
quench his thirst, he waded out through the surf and drew the
body to the beach, recognizing the unlovely features of his late
captain, swollen and disfigured in death.
" A more careful survey of the bay showed him a boat, bottom
up, drifting towards the shore. The brig had grounded just inside
the eastern headland a mile or more from where he stood. With
the prompt decision of a sailor he stripped off his clothes, and
swam out to the boat, and, with great difficulty, turned it partly
on its side, when he discovered the mast and sail still in place.
Partly swimming, and partly carried by the tide, he once more
gained the shore, where the boat, beating on the shingle, shook
the mast out of the step. Securing this, and drawing it out on the
sand, his next task was to right the pinnace with infinite labour,
and then with patient toil he baled her out with his hat.
"It was high noon when he pushed off from the land, and with a
fair breeze sailed towards the wreck, now hard aground and
motionless. The stem had caught on a tongue of rock projecting
into the bay, and the battered bows were almost submerged when
he clambered on board. Securing his boat on the lee side of the
wreck, he picked his way among the obstacles that encumbered
the deck to the officer's cabin, still out of water. The storeroom
CAPTAIN STRONG'S STORY. 49
adjoining was locked, but, seizing an axe, he with ready hand
beat in its panels. He filled a large bag with biscuit, happily
uninjured, and dragged it to the jside and placed it in the pinnace
Then with great difficulty he got a small water cask strapped
down under the thwarts, and filled it with a bucket, pumping the
water from the large cask that was securely fastened near the
after hatchway. This took half a dozen journeys from his boat to
the cask. He took a pair of pistols from the rack in the cabin?
some ammunition, a spy glass, the ship's compass, a pair of oars,
and then, with the confident courage of youth, pushed off, spread-
ing his sail, and passing the headland, steered boldly out upon
the restless ocean with a mere cockle shell for a ship. As he sat
in the stern sheets, munching a biscuit, he looked back at the long
curve of the bay, and to the spot where he left the body of the
captain, and saw the beach swarming with black savages !
'' The breeze was steady and favourable. He rounded the western
. cape, and, guided by his general nautical experience, he set his
course southwest, vaguely intending to land at the brig's island if
he could find it, and if not, to get into the general track of Aus-
tralian liners. When the night came on the breeze died away, and
he took down his mast, and securing it by lashing to the thwarts,
he stretched himself out in the bottom of the frail boat, rising and
falling in the placid swell of the sea, and slept.
"At the end of the second day the sun went down in a bank of
cloud, and Elbert, warned by occasional gusts of wind from the
west, shortened his sail and kept awake, running as close to the
wind as possible. By midnight he was obliged to take his mast
down and keep his boat across the waves with his oars. He
estimated his distance from the coast at about a hundred miles, as
he had been sailing a little south of east for nearly forty -eight
hours. But he could not estimate the eastward drift of his boat
since the wind had changed, and he waited the return of daylight
with great anxiety. Before the dawn came he distinctly heard
tlie roar of breakers, and with manful determination he pulled
away from the dreaded sound. The rain came in torrents with
the returning light, and then he could dimly see the rocky coast,
and when the boat rose on the crest of a wave he could see the
line of white water stretching away to the south, and within the
quarter of a mile of him. He knew he was in deadly peril, but
his pluck did not desert him, and he drew off his boots and pre-
pared to battle with the angry elements. Suddenly, with a hoarse
4
50 THE LACY DIAMONDS,
shout, he turned his boat's prow towards the shore and palled
through a rift in the line of foam into smooth water. He had
recognized the island. In a few minutes he had secured the boat^
and walking up the rocky path, entered the hut which the whole
crew had vacated a week before. Here was rest, security and
undisputed dominion. He was undoubted monarch of all he sur-
veyed, and sole heir to the island and all upon it.
" Do I make you understand the situation ! A few words will
make all clear. The wreck was tenantless, and the crew had cer-
tainly taken to the boats before the brig struck. All the boats
were gone, and it was almost certain that Butler had been one of
the crew of the pinnace which had escaped destruction. But
there was hardly the ghost of a chance for any other boat. Elbert
would have seen them if they had entered the bay, and it was far
more probable that they sought the island when they aban-
doned the ship. The bay was a mere indentation in the coast,
aftbrding no secure anchorage in heavy weather, and the only
chance left them was to pull away to the east. But in the face of
the storm that wrecked their ship they could not possibly escape
destruction. They were dashed to pieces upon that iron coast, and
probably the captain was the solitary body yielded up by the
remorseless sea. All of this was perfectly clear to Elbert as he
lay in his hammock under shelter, while the rain poured down
from day to day. The hut was rudely fashioned, having a roof
thickly thatched with many layers of broad leaves and bits of old
canvas, and water-tight over the sleeping quarter where hammocks
were suspended when the island was inhabited. Provisions and
stores were abundant, gathered from many luckless vessels that
had been robbed and scuttled, and during the week of incessant
rain Elbert cooked his meals daily, taking such variety as his
stores afforded. In the intervals he smoked and reflected.
" The island was nearly circular, rather more than two miles
across. Its coast was rock bound and inaccessible on all sides
excepting the narrow opening that gave egress to the little river.
In the centre, which might be the crater of an extinct volcano, the
land was higher and bare of vegetation. From the highest
point the entire horizon was visible over the tree tops. Here
Elbert repaired every day, when the rain was over, and anxiously
scanned the wide expanse of waters, hoping to see a passing ship.
But none ever appeared. The island was distant from the great
ocean highways. His only hope of escape was by the pinnace.
CAPTAIN STRONG'S STORY. 61.
wliich was a large boat, entire!}' seaworthy, and capable of carry-
ing a dozen or more. It is very probable that it was overladen
when the brig was abandoned, as the three boats would not con-
tain the numerous crew, except by 5lose packing, and it was
doubtless capsized in the storm. The other boats carried no sails,
and if overcrowded, would hardly live a minute in the fierce storm
of the tropics.
" There was a large cavern near the hut, in which the valuables
belonging to the crew were stored. There were nearly a hundred
wicker baskets, neatly made, each bearing the name of the owner.
It spoke well for the morals of this community of outlaws that
there were no locks upon any of these. A few had become com-
mon property by the death of former owners, and these contain-
ed undivided spoils, small arms, and such articles of value as
belonged to the furniture of the brig. By their law Elbert was
sole owner of all that the island contained. But he never thought
even of looking into the baskets bearing the names of his late
shipmates, though he knew there was enough wealth in that cave
to satisfy the most extravagant wants he could ever indulge.
From the common stock he took freely all that he required.
"The pinnace was originally schooner rigged, and the main-mast
and sail were on the island. Elbert devoted many days to the
task of fitting her out de novo. There was an abundance of spare
canvass and cordage in the cavern, and by contriving a system of
blocks and pulleys he was able to take in both fore and mainsail
fix)m his place in the stern. The jib was more unmanageable,
and he concluded to risk this sail, which was under his control in
a great measure, as he trailed the jib sheets also to the stern.
His plan was to carry as much canvass as the boat would bear, to
make the most of any favourable wind he might have. He had re-
solved to quit the island, to sail to the southward, and failing to
find a ship, to get round the south western cape and perhaps to
Adelaide or Melbourne.
" In the ten years he had spent on the brig or the island, Elbert
had made but one friendship, and that was scarcely worthy of the
name. There was a taciturn Englishman, who was called Jack
SchoUard, because he was " fond of his book," as the rough sailors
said. He talked very little, and read incessantly when the ship's
duties allowed him the leisure. As a fighter he was the most
desperate of the savages around him, and had won his rank of
lieutenant by his prowess. The kindness he showed to the boy
52 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
was in lending him books and explaining difl&culties which Elbert
could not surmount unaided. He spoke most modem languages,
and sometimes when he and Elbert Avere alone he would encourage
him to resume the language of civilization in exchange for the
slang of the ship. Once, when Jack was sick, he was left on the
island while the brig was away on a long cruise, and Elbert was
left with him to attend to his wants. These were few and simple,
but as his eyes were diseased, he could not read, and he kept the
youth reading aloud to him day after day for several months. It
was a mine of wealth to the boy, who got a sort of education by a
royal road, in spite of the proverb. He never manifested any
emotion Avhatever, though Elbert once and again expressed his
gratitude to Jack for allowing him to remain with him, and,
indeed, selecting him for his companion on several occasions.
Tbree months before the wreck of the vessel Jack had landed in
the i)innace at the very spot where Elbert and the captain had
parted for the last time. They had brought .some water casks to
fill, and while the men were employed at this work Schollard and
Elbeit wandered into the forest, where they were suddenly attacked
by a swarm of savages. In the fight Schollard was killed and
Elbert wounded, but the men who rushed into the fray found him
astride the body of the lieutenant fighting his maiden battle,
and doing a man's work. The natives were put to flight and
Elbert carried aboard the brig, and before sunset was formally
elected lieutenant. As his wounds healed he quietly resolved to
quit the ship forever at the first opportunity. He did quit, as I
have told you, and thereby saved his life.
" The only excuse I offer for giving this incidental bit of history
is my desire to account for the change that had come over Elbert,
transibiming him from boy to man. It was a great shock to him
to lose the solitary friend he had in the world, for his world was
the hated ship ! And when he looked over the book basket a day
or two before he left the island, I am obliged to say that he
dropped some tears of genuine sorrow. Poor Jack ! What horror
was in his earlier history, turning the cultivated gentleman into
the tiger, no man knows! Poor Elbert! The fixed purpose of
his soul, when he was left by Butler on that savage coast, was to
find the bones of his friend and bury them !
"And now as the youth, whose lip and chin were covered by .the
silken down of early manhood, steered his little ship between the
mimic capes of his harbor and out upon the swelling ocean, he
CAPTAIN STRONG'S STOBY. 68^
thought he cast out of his hfe all the memories of his bitter past.
He had ballasted his boat with enough provision to suffice him
for a month at least, and with a fair westerly wind, his sail close
hauled, he sped away on his old southwest course. He was steer-
ing from memor^^, as he had no charts, and only a yague idea of
the trend of the coast. His purpose was to sail as steadily as the
wind would allow on this course for ten days, and then to turn
his prow eastward and seek some port in South Australia. He
did not heed the truth that his chances were as one in a hundred,
and that a very moderate storm would certainly wreck his frail
boat. Oh, the blissful confidence of youthful ignorance ! How
dire the loss, \^hen this is exchanged for the experience of
maturity !
" I can hardly tell you how he slept or how the time passed for
six days. Sometimes the wind died away, and then he would
lower his sails, unstep his masts, and securing them as well as he
could, would sleep, sheltering himself from the sun by an awning
he had made while on the island. Such a calm found him on the
sixth day, after twenty hours of steady progress, and he stretched
himself out about noon and fell asleep. He was wakened by the
whistling of the wind as it tore his awning out of its fastenings,;
and blew it away to leeward. He lay stupidly gaziog up at the
sky, sparkling with a million stars, until, recognizing his peril,
he seized the helm and with a sailor's instin(^ tried to bring his
boat head to wind. In vain! The boat shipped a sea as she
rolled in the trough and then turned slowly over. He clung to
her side, and as she half righted, rising upon the crest of the
wave, he almost lost his hold. But he was again in the trough in
a moment, and managed to get into the boat, which was full of
water. As he mounted the next wave there was nothing above
the surface for the wind to catch, and he was tolerably safe. And
so he rode out the storm, which was only a transient gust, and
when the sun rose the sea had almost gone down again. Every-
thing was lost from the boat, oars sails and provisions and she
was no better than so much lumber, buoyant enough to keep him
on the surface, but utterly worthless for all else.
"I cannot. tell you coherently what happened next. The sun
beat pitilessly upon him throughout that seventh day, and when,
the night brought out the magnificent constellation of the southern
cross, with the myriads of brilliant stars that seemed to whisper
hope to him, he was almost past the reach of hope. When the
54 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
day came again he was only partly conscious of the burning sun,
and then all was night. Hungry, thirsty, weary and disheartened,
his last thought was that the death so swiftly approaching was
the truest friend he had ever known !
" As his senses returned he was bewildered by the uproar around
him. He was lying in a bunk, in his clothes, still wet, and a man
was leaning over him, trickling brandy into his mouth with a
spoon. He saw a good-natured face kindling in a smile as he
opened his eyes.
"Ah!" said the man, "we are coming round again! Keep
quiet now, and swallow just two more spoonfuls. Sol now, if
you want to sleep again but stop ! Here, cook ! bring a basin
of that soup. Can you take a little soup I I thought so ! How
long have you fasted I Never mind ! You will be all right by
daylight. More soup ! Well, cook, give him another basin and
no more, and don't let him talk till I come back. Kot a word )P
" Accordingly, as the little doctor bustled away, the first word of
the cook, who was a fat Irishwoman, was
" How did ye get drownded, darlintF
" What sbip is thisF answered Elbert,
" The Bellony, darlint j how did ye ^
" Where are we F
"In port. Port Philip. The divils are all gone crazy about
the gowld !" *
" What gold r
" Sure, thin, ye don't live about here! Why, the gowld they
are picking up out of the dirt beyant Melbourne. All the pas-
sengers and most of the crew are off, and the rest are goin' ^
" How came I here f
" We picked you up this evenin', just out here in the bay. You
was floatin' on a bit of a boat in a dead faint. The ship was nigh
runnin' you down, when one of the b'ys see'd yees. It was Pat
forninst ye there. The docthor has been workin' wid you these
three hours. Ah! whist! here he comes!" and then with an
affectionate whine she continued, " ye must just mind the
docthor, darUnt, an' keep quite ! He'll tell you everything in the
morn' !"
" The doctor felt his pulse, which was beating with healthful
vigour under his fingers, held the light up to see his pallid cheeks
regaining their colour, as the soup and the brandy and the assur-
ance of safety all combined to work the rai)id cure.
CAPTAIN STRONG'S STORY. 55
'' I was capsized in a sudden squall last night or. two nights
ago. I don't know which ^^
"All right, my lad!" interrupted the doctor. "You must
positively go to sleep now and you can tell your story in the
morning. Promise me that you will not talk any more until day-
light."
" I promise^ doctor. But x)lease give me a little more soup."
"Not a taste! You are getting along famously now. You
shall have a good breakfast by daylight. Go to sleep !" and he
clambered up the staircase to the deck. Elbert turned on his
side obediently, but was instantly pounced upon by the old
woman as soon as the doctor's back was turned.
" I've brought you a dhrop more of the soup, darlint," she said
a^ she handed him a basin, holding about half a gallon. " The
docthor is very good at say ; but we are so neaif the shore now
Holy saints! How the boy does ate! How long have ye starved,
darliut !f"
" Elbert worked away steadfastly until the basin was empty, and
then handing it back to the old woman, he pressed his finger on
his lip and pointed to the staircase. In another minute he was
peacefully sleeping, while the ship was warped into her dock.
" By the first gray light of the dawn he examined his belt and
found his money intact. He rose from his bunk, and, gaining the
deck, found the sailors gathered in knots eagerly discussing some
subject of universal interest. The Hibernian who had been point-
ed out to him as the man who pulled him out of the water beck-
oned him to his side.
" Do ye know where the gowld counthry is?" was his eager ques-
tion.
" No. I am a stranger."
" There's a dozen of us, all handy boys, who are going to look
for the diggin's. Will you go along wid us f
" Yes. When do you start ?"
" As soon as we get our wages. They are buzzin' about it now
in the cabin. The captain don't want us to lave, but our bargain
is out when the ship is docked, and that's now. Half the boys
have gone without their wages.'^
" Can I go ashore F
" Sure ye can go when ye plaze. There's the shore and there's
the gangway."
^^ Amid the confusion Elbert quietly walked as^ioi^. ^QSs ^"^vvl
56 THE LAOY DIAMONDS,
dress was his passport. He joined a gang of half a dozen at the
head of the pier and passed from the view of all who knew any-
thing of his previous history. Three days later he was at the
gold diggings beginning a new life. And that is the end of my
story, and with your permission I'll try for some sleep.''
As Mr. Barston rose he turned his haggard face to the light
that was swinging at the head of the cabin stairway. Old Mr.
Jones supported him. He stopped at the door of my state-room
as the ship lurched, and a great wave came aboard and went hiss-
ing astern. Mr. Barston fumbled in his bosom and drew out a lit-
tle box, which he opened, and taking out a large necklace he threw
the box on the deck. Mr. Jones picked it up, and then clutched
Mr. Barston's arm again. He seemed to have a fit of horrors as
he rattled the jewels in his hand.
" Do you know,." he said hoarsely, '^do you know that I am mad
enough to believe that this accursed bauble is the cause of all my
trouble ? It has been hidden in my bosom for seven dreary years.
In all that time, which seems like seven ages, my only solace has
been drink. Anl now, as I feel the old fit coming upon me, I have
enough manhood left to tear away this infernal chain at least. Lo !
avaunt ! and quit my sight I'^
As he spoke he cast the necklace over the side. A mountain of
dark water received it, sparkling like a hundred glow-worms as it
disappeared. With a horrid laugh he threw himself on the deck,
his body quivering in convulsions. Mr. Jones knelt by him, loosen-
ed his neckcloth, and raised his head and shoulders with the
strength of a giant.
" Take his legs, captain, please,'' said the old man, composedly,
"and let us get him quietly to his berth."
" My dear sir, let me call the steward. You can never carry
him."
" But I can, captain," replied the old gentleman. " We don't
want any steward. He is quite light. Come on I"
That Mr. Jones must have been a stunner in his youth. He
tripped lightly down the staircase and through the passage way,
carrying more than half of our unconscious burden. When we
reached Mr. Barston's room, Mr. Jones coolly pushed the door open
and we laid him down on the sofa. His poor wife was huddled
up in a comer, and to my astonishment little Johnny was in her
arms. He was in his night dress and looked just like a little girl.
His eyes were something smaller than saucers.
CAPTAIN STRONG'S STOBT. W
" I heard her crying, papa," said he, as his father looked in
mute amazement at them, "and I heard her calling me. She woke
me up, crying and calling me, and I had to come."
" You did right, my darling," answered his father, " but Fll take
you back to bed now.'? ^
" Oh, please don't take the child from me," said Mrs. Barston,
moaning pitifully. " Let her stay with me to-night." The poor
woman evidently thought Johnny was a girl, and old Mr. Jones
humoured her.
"You shall have her again to-morrow," he replied, as he took
Johnny in his arms, "that is if you are discreet. But now your
husband needs attention. The captain will send the doctor to see
him. Good night."
" Let me kiss her, papa," said Johnny. Mr. Jones held the little
fellow down to her and he kissed her tenderly, patting her cheek
with his little hands.
" Heaven bless you, sir," said Mrs. Barston, as he left. " I will
do whatever you tell me."
The next morning the storm had abated, and I put the ship about
and ran for Queenstown. As the sun rose we sighted Cape Clear.
I announced to the passengers that we should be in Cork harbour
in the course of the day, and most of them got on deck. Mrs.
Barston was like another woman as she sat on the lee side of the
stairway, with little Johnny cuddled up on her lap. The boy was
bold as brass and seemed very fond of her. Mr. Barston was
doing well, but the doctor kept him in his state-room. Old Mr.
Jones wias extremely attentive to Mrs. Barston, who seemed to re-
gard him with a sort of reverence. They spent an hour or more
in very earnest conversation, and when the tender left us at Cork
Mr. Jones and the boy went off in her. He said he would catch
the night boat for Holyhead and be in London the next morning.
The sight of land appeared to make him young again, and he
skipped about as lively as a kitten. As the tender steamed away
he was holding the boy in his arms, who was kissing his chubby
hands to Mrs. Barston, while Mr. Jones was singing, as loud as he
could,
^ A wet sheet and a flowing sea,
And a wind that follows fast."
Se sang elegantly too.
68 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
CHAPTER VI.
Thj: Ladies.
IF tbe gentle reader has read all the foregoing, he or she ought to
be tolerably well acquainted with tbe most of the iersonageR
that figure in this story. It will be necessary to introduce him or her
to two or three others, who thus far have been only incidentally
mentioned, and to bring them more i)rominently into the narrative.
Hitherto the author has been obliged to allow the characters to do
their own talking, and he has discovered that this is a very unsafe
procedure, inasmuch as they rarely know when to stop. It is a re-
markabh^ fact, probably known only to authors, that these fictitious
people are really more unmanageable than real people. You can-
not snub them. You cannot change the subject. You cannot
walk off and leave them. They will talk. The author fondly hopes
that the change will be acceptable to the gentle reader, who is
probably a lady, and therefore antagonistic to talkers on prin-
ciple.
It is also requisite that the reader, fair as well as gentle, should
^o back some six or seven years. It is a comfort to know that this
also will be easily done, as the honoured sex, of which she is an
ornament, proverbially manages this chronological feat with great
facility. In fact, the author distinctly remembers several ladies,
who were well grown girls forty years ago, who are somewhere
in the thirties to-day.
The time, then, some few years before the events recounted in the
preceding pages. The place, the fairest portion of the earth's sur-
face Devonshire five miles from Exeter, the village of Laving-
ton, always thriving and always pretty, with the spire of the church
at the south end, and the gray tower of Morton Priory peeping
above the green trees of the park at the north. You can just see
the flag on the tower, hoisted to indi^jate that Lord Morton is
there. During a large part of the year he resides upon another
estate in Essex, for he is a working member of the Upper House, and
one of his sons, Mr. Allan Harwood, is the member for Lavington
in the House of Commpns. But this is the season when London
is deserted, depopulated a barren wilderness of houses, with only
a million or two of its population left.
THE LADIES, 69
If you will enter the lodge gates and walk through the park
you will be charmed with its beauty. The carriage road follows
the windings of a little stream, a branch of the Esk, until you
reach the rising ground upon which the house is built. You will
have to go around to the western side, where the ladies are upon
the terrace. There are three of them, and with honest trepidation
the author begins the hardest part of this true history the de-
scription of the sovereign rulers of humanity.
Lady Morton sits in the American rocking chair near the bay
window. No fairer specimen of womankind can be found in Her
Majesty's dominions. The bloom of youth is not lost but
developed into the maturity of the matron. All that was lovely
in her beautiful girllu)od has ripened into surpassing loveliness at
her third climacteric, to which she has now attained. Those
honest, bright brown eyes, looking into yours with fearless
majesty, are the windows through which you catch a glimpse of
the pure woman's soul, full of gentleness and truth. That broad
brow, so calm and smooth, without the wrinkles that care brings,
or the furrows that sorrow ploughs, betokens the royalty of the
wife and mother, whose lightest wish is the undisputed law of her
realm. There is a fine curve in her nostril, and a quiet firmness
in the lines of her mouth, that indicate the possession of a decided
character, yet give no sign of strong-mindedness. You would not
think of her as taking part in wordy contests. Her countenance
gives no such intimation. Over all, like a veil, there is an expres-
sion of sobriety, which has been wrought by experiences through
which her heart and her head reached maturity many years agone.
Placid, wise and good too proud to be haughty, and adorned
with too true a humility to be servile, she is to her children the
ultimate authority in all questions of taste, of propriety, of morals;
and to her lord, the light of his eyes and the pulses of his heart.
Her daughter, Eet Harwood, who sits near her in the window
seat, may be described in the same words if you deduct thirty
years and their experiences. The likeness betwixt those two fair
women is very remarkable. The golden tints in the hair of the
younger hava ripened into minute threads of silver in the elder.
But you see the same calm eyes, gentle and true, in both.
Do you expect any description of their dresses ? If so, you are
doomed to disappointment. No masculine reader would know
anything al)out it, be the description never so elaborate, and the
ladies would probably be skocked at the horrid taster Olasj^Y^^^^M
60 THE LACY DIAMONDS,
they conld see the attire of those who dressed in a fashion now ten
years old. Moreover, the author is lamentably ignorant on this
general subject., and would be certain to commit some atrocious
blunder if he essayed such a description.
The third lady is something under twenty. She has blue eyes, a
profusion of light yellow curls, like floss silk, floating over white
shoulders and neck. No signs of sobriety here. She has two
rows of pearls that are perpetually visible, when she smiles or
talks, which is all the time. This is Miss Clare Tamworth. She
is an heiress, an orphan, a Lady-Bountiful at her own home near
Clifton, a harmless little flirt, who has never allowed any of her
numerous victims to fall deeply in love with her. She has no
faculty for sentimental love making, and woe to the wretched
wight who attempts sentimental dialogues with her for interlocu-
tor ! The men who have deliberately set themselves to win this
fair prize have never progressed beyond a sigh or two. She con-
tradicts all established theories. The ready tears spring from her
gentle eyes at the recital of a story of sorrow or suffering, but if
the raconteur should attempt to slip in a love plea while her heart
was thus softened, he would be astounded at the readiness with
which the sympathizing tears gave place to merriment and
mockery. The unanimous verdict of the men who sought her
favour was that she was utterly heartless. And, like many other
unanimous verdicts, it was false. Hitherto the right man had
not come. Woe to the man who should really love her and love
in vain I Happy the man who should so love her as to compel a
reciprocal passion! As she stood at the edge of the terrace,
twining a clematis vine over its frame, she looked like a fairy, free
from care, and taking all the enjoyment life afforded, as the hum-
ming bird takes its sustenance from the free flowers that adorn
the earth.
'^ Come sit by me, Clare," said Lady Morton, " we must arrange
the programme for the week."
" It is all arranged, my lady," replied Clare. " Eet and I made
it up last night."
" Subject to your approval, mother," said Ret.
" Let me know what your two wise heads have planned. I re-
cerve the right to amend your plans, remember."
" First, then," said Miss Tamworth, seating herself as directed,
" to-morrow is devoted to the Red Hall. This is by special invita-
tion from Sir John, and your veto will not apply here, as your
THE LADIES. 61
lord and master has accepted * for self and friends.' We are to
lunch there at one."
"That disposes of to-morrow," answered Lady Morton, *' as the
gentlemen return here to dinner. Have you arranged the mode of
conveyance f
" Yes. You and Eet are to go with Lord Morton and the rec-
tor in that old stuffy coach. I am to go on horseback, escorted
by Sir John. We are to flirt all the way to the Hall and back.
Sir John is to take you down to dinner, of course, and he is to flirt
with liet during the evening, while I try to enslave the rector."
'^ I wish you success, my dear. But John is almost as impene-
trable as yourself."
" And that is the very reason why I should assault him ! Be-
sides, he is quite passably handsome. I noticed his whiskers in
church yesterday. They are positively elegant !"
" For shame, Clare !"
"That is quite en regie, mother," said Eet mischievously.
"You know that the chief glorj^ of episcopacy consists in freedom
from those little restraints which dissenters practice."
" ni tell the rector that speech. Miss Ret !"
" Very well. But it will accomplish nothing. We have a com-
pact, Johnny and I, by which I am a dissenter at Harwood House
and a churchwoman at Lavington. I made this agreement to
avoid scandalizing his flock."
" What are we to do on Wednesday, girls?" said Lady Morton.
" Clare says she is dying for the sea-coast, mother," answered
Miss Harwood, "and we thought, if you approved, we would
make up a party to the Smuggler's Cave."
" That involves a drive of forty miles."
"Only nineteen, mother ^
" And nineteen to return."
" But you cannot count the return journey, my lady," said Miss
Tamworth. " If we get there we are obliged to come home again.
The rector says we can gather multitudes of shells, and the cave
is a great curiosity."
. " We will decide about the sea-coast later. What have you for
Thursday?"
" We leave that to you, madame," answered Clare.
"Why, Clare!" said Eet, "you know we had decided to ride to
Oakland."
"Did we?" said Miss Tamworth. " Well, we must wait for the
invitation^ I suppose. My programme ends witti "W^diii^^dL^^ ?
62 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
" Mr. Barston is to come ou Saturday," observed Lady Morton.
" I don't see how you can get an invitation in the meantime."
"We might meet Mr. Barston," said Glare, bhishing a little;
" and we saw him in London, you know ^"
" Well !" said Lady Morton, amused.
" Well, ma'am, hef invited us to Oakland then that is, he gave
a general invitation. The rector says it is the prettiest place in
Devonshire."
" It is very pretty," answered Lady Morton. " I have not been
there since Mr. Barston died. Lacy was a mere youth then. He
and John were at Oxford, and I have hardly seen him since.
I doubt if I should have kno^vn him with his great beard if I had
not expected him and looked out for him. But one could not be
mistaken in his kind eyes who had ever looked into them."
" Sir John says he is a regular muff," said Clare.
" Johnny says he is a regular Methodist," said Ret.
" Your father says he is a spotless gentleman," said her mother.
" Of course !" replied both young ladies in a breath.
" You must remember, girls, that he is not very rich ^
" And take care not to fall in love ^
" Be quiet, Clare ! you know that was not my meaning. I only
desired to remind you that you cannot expect Oakland to be very
elaborately furnished. One of his quaint sayings is, Hhat going
in debt is first cousin to stealing,' and he says he has never owed
any man anything, and never will. Since he came of age he mor-
tally offended a rich old cousin by refusing a loan from him. The
old gentleman wished the house repaired and modernized, and
oircrcd to advaiice the necessary funds. He was not entirely dis-
interested, as he is Lacy's heir-at-law. But the boy stoutly re-
fused to accept the money, saying he was free born and would
not become any man's servant by borrowing. The cousin then
' l^roposed to give him the money, or at least to require no security.
But Lacy declined, saying a gift involved an obligation only
more intolerable than a loan."
The girls listened with great attention to this story. Clare said
nothing, but Ret after a little pause said,
" I think he did right, mother."
" Certainly, my dear."
" Captain Callahan tells a queer story about him, too," said
Clare. " He says they were in Paris together a few months ago,
and Sir John got involved in a quarrel with a Frenchman, who
THE LADIES. 63
challenged him. Sir John referred the Frenchman's second to Mr.
Barston, who was the only countryman he knew. They were at
the opera, and on the way to the hotel Mr. Barston recognized the
gentleman who presented the cartel, and after the polite formali-
ties with which those horrid men preface a meeting for murder,
Mr. Barston asked him some questions abortt Sebastopol. You
know he was there during the war. The other he was a Captain
Dutilh soon became interested and told of a hair-breadth escape
both he and his " i^rincipal," Sir John's antagonist, had made in
the trenches. They were both wounded, and their men had been
driven out by the Eussians, and while they were under a heavy
fire ^some Englishman' had carried them, one at a time, beyond
the reach of bullets. They said they certainly ^ owed their lives
to him;' whereupon Mr. Barston mentioned some circumstance
that proved himself the deliverer, and then very quietly said he
would ' take the settlement now.' And the result was the with-
drawal of the challenge and an interchange of explanations. The
carious part of the story was the literal acceptance by Mr. Barston
of the Frenchman's professions. Captain Callahan says he coolly
told Dutilh that, having the choice of weapons, he should choose
cavalry sabres, and Sir John being invincible with that weapon,
would kill his friend, whose life belonged to Mm, Barston, and
therefore the foolish quarrel must be made up."
'^ Johnny told me about that, mother," said Ret. " He says Mr.
Barston never intended to let them fight at all. He had concocted
some wild scheme to stop the duel when his recognition of Cap-
tain Dutilh suggested the other plan."
" Your father has had charge of both these young gentlemen
since the death of Mr. Barston's father, and he has frequently told
me of Mr. Lacy Barston's eccentricities, as he calls them. I have
se^n very little of him since his boyhood, but he is a prime favourite
of mine in spite of his pranks. He was a terrible young rascal in
his bojish days."
'^ He is tolerably given to tricks still," observed Miss Tamworth.
"I have heard of some recent escapades of his, in which his bosom
friend, Sir John, participated; but I have never heard of any
harm following his practical jokes."
" Sir John has improved vastly since they were schoolmates of
my boys. He was passionate and quarrelsome, and his cousin,
Barston, was perpetually getting him out of scrapes. Lord Mor-
ton was present when old Mr. Barston died^ and heard hinLgive a
64 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
solemn charge to his son to take special care of his cousin.
* While he lives, my son/ he said, ^ remember that he is your
mother's kinsman, and as you revere her memory, be father,
brother and friend to John Lacy.' The quaint manner in which
young Barston has fulfilled this obligation has amused your father
many times, but hef tells me that he has faithfully and effectually
performed his duty in this matter."
^^ I suppose the baronet is out of leading-strings by this time,"
said Miss Harwood.
" He never knew that he was led, I fancy," replied Lady Mor-
ton j "but he has always been disposed to rely upon Barston in
any emergency."
CHAPTER Vn.
The Gentlemen.
IF the village of Lavington the most attractive and most com-
fortable house is the rectory. It was built by Lord Morton
very soon after his inheritance of the barony. He demolished two
or three cottages to make room for the garden and lawn, and the
young trees he had planted here are grown to a good size. It
stands near the church, whose stately spire, at the south end of
the town, faces the gray tower of Morton Priory at the north.
There is a modest chapel, held by dissenters, midway the main
street, and this also was the gift of the lord of the soil, who is
himself a dissenter, though the family attend the church when
they are in Devonshire. It is a noteworthy fact also that the
rector and the Presbyterian minister are close friends, which is
not often the case in English towns, more's the pity.
The rector's library was lighted by one large bay window open-
ing upon the lawn, and here were gathered four gentlemen, indus-
triously filling every nook and comer of the room with tobacco
smoke. It was a little past noon, and the debris of luncheon
encumbered the table behind them, as they had drawn their chairs
to the open window, and gazed lazily out upon the green lawn
while they enjoyed their cigars.
Peering through the smoke, you may see the handsome face of
Lord Morton, so much more handsome than any of the others, as
THE GENTLEMEN. 65
experience, and gravity that grows out of experience, and the sense
of respousibility and fixity of purpose, the result of laborious
thought and kindly interest i i humankind beautify the counte-
nance. These overb^ilanced the fancied advantages of lightly bur-
dened youth. His long brown whiskers have sundry silver threads
in them which are positive adornments. His bold gray eyes, full of
truth and kindness, twinkle* like stars at small provocation, be-
cause he carries in his bosom a perennial fountain of humour,
which he perpetually labours to smother, and perpetually fails to
do it. He must keep up the dignity of the statesman and legis-
lator. His joyous holidays are the days he spends in company
with his wife and children at Morton Priory, where he gets rid of
a volume of jokes accumulated in previous mouths of repression.
He attained manhood in early youth by brave endurance of deep
heart sorrows, and his subsequent life has been passed in sunlight.
Ko one of his four children has the remotest touch of jealousy of
any of the others, and his friendshipj over and above his fatherly
love for them, is their dearest inheritance.
The rector, or " Parson Johnny," as he is universally called by
his kindred the name being given him by his father when he
first turned his attention to theological studies is the next to come ^
into view. He comes of a handsome stock and shows it. Like ?
his father, he cultivates a pair of side whiskers, long and silky,
but he has inherited a sedateness of demeanour from some other
ancestor that his immediate progenitor missed. There are certain
indications of his clerical vocation about his attire, and probably
also in his countenance and demeanour. The guileless simplicity
of his character has fitted him most accurately for his calling.
The air of truthfulness and fearless honesty in his eyes, and tones,
and gestures, is the heritage of his race. He is a man of parts,
has been a diligent student, and were it not for a sort of laxity in
his grasp of theological dogmas, in so far as these apply to minor
points, and a sort of readiness to find correspondencies betwixt
his creed and that of dissenters, he might aspire to high prefer-
ment in the church.
Sir John Lacv is in the cushioned arm-chair. He has a habit
of falling into soft spots and of taking special care of his own com-
fort. With many praiseworthy qualities, he has this sort of pol-
ished selfishness that distinguishes well-bred Englishmen from
men of other nationalities. He was a soldier in the Crimean war
-a cavalry subaltern and he brought back with him.an unscarred
5
66 THE LACT DIAMONDS..
body and a good reputation. It could not be said of him that he
shrunk from exposure to any danger that came in the line of duty,
but he did not volunteer for the mere sake of incurring risks. He
fought well and valiantly, when fighting was to be done, and
complained fretfully of the privations incident to camp life when
the battle was over. He is a little vain of Jiis shapely i)erson,
especially when he dons his uniform. He is colonel now of a regi-
ment of volunteer riflemen, and the ultimate authority in military
matters at Laviiigton. He has sleepy looking blue eyes and a
profusion of tawny beard, and would be remarkably good looking
if he were not contrasted with Lord Morton and the Eeverend
John Harwood.
You need not waste much time in examination of the other
occupant of the library. !N"othing striking here ; only a plain ath-
lete Lacy Barston. He also was soldiering; when his cousin
went to the Crimea he went with him. Ifothing special was said
about his prowess, and in fact there was not much chance for dis-
tinction in his regiment. ^' He was a jolly companion and a very
safe sabre to have at one's bridle-arm in a cavalry charge." This
was Sir John's judgment, and I may remark here that Barston
always managed to take that precise position in their short war ex-
perience. He was " whimsical, but true as steel." This was Par-
son Johnny's judgment, and I think he probably knew Barston's
interior life better than any other. He was "a gentleman in
every pulsation of his heart." This Lord Morton said, and there
was no better judge. As he sits apart there, blowing the fragrant
smoke through his thick moustache, you would not give him a
second look unless you should chance to catch a glance from his
deep blue eyes, so earnest, so thoughtful ^revealing a capacity for
unmeasured jollity, and if you are swift enough to detect it a
limitless capacity for tears as welL
These are very slight sketches. Will the reader please fill up
the rude outlines? or, still better, wait until these gentlemen
" pronounce" themselves in the course of the story ?
" I must say. Parson Johnny," said Lord Morton, " that you are
a capital judge of cigars."
" Do you like the flavour, father f
" Yes, very much. I believe they are better than my Cabanas."
" That cannot be," objected Sir John 5 ^' those Cabanas you gave
us in London should be branded ne pltts ultra. These are very
fine, parson, but your father is perhaps the only man in Eng-
land that can produce anything better."
THE GENTLEMEN, BT
"What is your verdict, Barstonf ' said the rector.
"I have a special reason for withholding it in this presence.
Be content to know that they are good enough."
" Come, sir," said Lord Morton, " you only excite our curiosity.
Favour us with your opinion."
" Kofc unless Parson Johnny insists ^
" Certainly I insist. Always obey your seniors !"
Mr. Barston took a letter from his pocket, which he unfolded
with great reluctance. Glancing over it he hesitated, shook his
bead, and put it back.
" Cannot do it ! It is too cold-blooded P he said.
" If you don't read that letter," said Sir John, half rising, " we
three will throttle you and take it by force I I see it is one of
your tricks, but you cannot escape us all !"
" I am too lazy to fight, but I do not doubt that I could evade
you. I will read the postscript. This letter is from Parson
Johnny, who orders me to read it. * P. S. If you are at Har-
wood House, old Swiss, please get the butler's key and look on
the first shelf at the right of the door, and steal me a box or two
of father's Cabanas. You had better get one Colorado and one
Oscuro. The latter are the better, but father is coming down and
he prefers the others ' " He put up the letter and continued, *.
" These are the Colorados !"
" You young rascals !" said Lord Morton, when the laugh had
subsideil, " do you keep up all your supplies in this fashion F
^' Oh no, sir," answered the rector. " You know my bachelor
establishment is very inexpensive. I am pretty well supplied
with cigars, anyhow, and this theft was perpetrated wholly in
your own interests. I might have written you to bring some
'Colorados,' but it looked so awkward to invite an expected guest
to furnish his own cigars. Swiss, did you get a box for yourself f'
" Certaiuly not," said Barston, indignantly. " As Lord Morton
prefers the light cigars, may I ask why you ordered the Oscurosf"
'^ Why for you, of course. You agreed with me in thinking the
dark ones better when we were at Harwood House in the spring."
" My lord," said Mr. Barston, *'you cannot trust Parson Johnny.
He might send some less honest person into your house, and rob
you more shamefully. I hope I need not say that I did not bor-
row ^ the butler's key.' Kothing would induce me to do such a
thing."
"May I inquire how you got the cigars^ theuV
68 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
"I did not get thein at all, sir. I just read Parson Johnny's
letter to your hopeful son, Allen."
'^ A nice lot of vipers I liave raised !" said Lord Morton, i)re-
tending to sigh. " I suppose Alien did not object F
^ On the contrary, he said it was jolly. ^ You see, Swiss,' he
said, 'it will play two tricks on father at once. First, he is
awfully stingy about the Cabanas, and second, it will be prime
iiiu for Parson Johnny to make him run down his own cigars !"
The senior joined in the laugh witli great enjoyment. *' I have
never heard," he said at last, '^ how Mr. Barston obtained his title.
I know you boys have been calling him ' Swiss' since your school
days "
" Let mp tell that story, father," said the rector, eagerly, " that
is, unless ' Swiss ' wishes to relate his own adventures ?"
" Not I. You have so vivid an imagination that it always re-
freshes me to hear your yarns. If you mean the cow story, though,
you have no right to call that my adventure."
" Well, let father decide. You remember, sir, that we were all
at Oxford together, and all freshmen. Barston could have entered
the higher class, but he generously declined to start ahead of us.
As far as rascality was concerned, his education was aheady
iiuished. All of the ordinary villanies of freshmen he disdained,
but constantly invented new tricks to astound the authorities. He
was never caught, and kept up a fine reputation by perfect fecita-
tions, eiiemplary behaviour during hours, attendance at chapel,
and general outward rectitude. But at night ' Swiss ' displayed
his peculiar talent, and the rest of us used to wait patiently for
his guidance. One of our 8iecial enemies was old Doctor Blixem,
who had a favourite cow, and one night Barston unfolded his
scheme, which was to put old Blixem's cow on the roof of our
dormitory. I can't tell you how he got her up stairs ^"
'* I twisted her tail," interrupted Barston, coolly. " There's a
great deal of fuss made about scientific discoveries, but the
fact is, the most of them have been either accidental or else
suggested by some corresponding law in nature. There is the
steam engine business ; one fellow, I remember, is said to have
discovered steam power by being half drunk and throwing a
' Florence flask,' whatever that is, into the fire. The flask con-
tained a little wine, and it bubbled up and made steam, and blew
the fellow up, or the back out of the fire-place, I forget which.
Another chap saw the tea-kettle lid bobbing up and down, and he
THE GENTLEMEN. 69
made an independent steam discovery. Then Mr. Watt made the
engine and got the credit. Now, here is the application of power
to the stern of vessels ^the propeller instead of the paddle wheels.
No fellow was wise enough to think of propulsion, but the paddle
wheel was universal. Now I venture to assert that the screw i)ro-
peller was suggested to some boy who screwed a cow's tail to
make her go ; but when he came to apply his discovery to steam-
ship navigation, he had not the manliness to confess where he got
his inspiration. Again, if I do not weary you ^
" Go on, go on P said his audience.
'^ Well, the propeller only half does the work after all. Not,
an experienced man can not only propel the cow, but can steer her.
I steered Blixem's cow, and she was awfully green and cranky,
and kicked abominably. I am sure I could put that cow up stairs,
after a little practice, without a baulk. But I tire you "
" Go on, go on!" said his listeners.
" Well, gentlemen, I feel indignant when I see the amazing pre-
tension of these inventors ! Who has ever tried to steer a ship
with the screw ! Some villain has got a patent, no doubt, and i^
now rolling in wealth, for applying an original discovery of mine
and Blixem's cowl Proceed ^vith your narrative, Parson Johnny.
I have finished."
Parson Johnny indulged in a quiet laugh and went on.
" Anyhow, he got her up and on the roof. There is a balcony
about large enough to hold the cow, and there he left her. During
the night she lowed dismally, and Barston said she wished to be
milked. So he took a bucket uj) and actually milked her while
the rest of us watched on the campus. While thus employed he
sang nielodiousl}' :
' Come, arouse thee, arouse thee, my brave Swiss boy,
Take thy pail and to labour away 1'
He had and still has a magnificent voice, and old Blixem heard
him. The next day the cow was got down with blocks and pul-
leys, and we were all hauled up for examination. Old Blixem
was in a great rage because the cow had been milked, and was
intent only upon finding the milker. None of us had any trouble
about denying that part of the business, until Barston's turn
came, when the doctor said he would not insult so exemplary a
gentleman by questioning him, especijxlly as he had heard him
singing in his room at the very hour when the milking must have
been done. We all got off, and of course Barston became the
* Swiss Boy^ at once.
TO THE LACY DIAMONDS.
" Did it end in this way ?" asked Lord Morton.
"Ob, no. Swiss told Blixem the whole story before the term
was over, and that was the brightest manifestation of his genius.
' He said the cow was a very valuable animal, and he thought it
would injure her to let her go unmilked, and therefore he did it.
Blixem not only forgave him but thanked him.''
'^ Doctor Blixem is a regular trump, sir," said Mr. Barston. ^' We
were fast friends, and he helped me over many a tough place. I
could not take so many kindnesses from him, you know, without
clearing that cow out of the way. I had to tell him.''
'^ Well, sir," said Lord Morton, rising, "I have several cows at
Morton Priory, and they are all at your service. Come, stay there
while we are in Devonshire. It will be more cheerful for you than
your solitary life at Oakland, and a great favour to me."
" You are very kind, my lord, and I frankly accejit your invita^
tioii to spend as much time as I can at your house. No other house
in England is so attractive to me."
" And no guest will be more welcome than yourself. Lacy. Shall
1 send for your traps ?"
'^ No need, sir. Parson Johnny will drive me over when I am
ready. He must have a drag, you know, to take his big fiddle."
OHAPTEE YIII.
The Eed Hall.
IT was a bright noon-tide in August when the gay party passed
through the lodge gates and caught sight of the tall gray
tower of Sir John Lacy's house. This tower had been known iu
former days as the Lacy Keep, and was more ancient, by several
centuries, than the rest of the building, which had been added ^o
the tower, a bit at a time, and without regard to architectural rules.
The park surrounding the Hall was almost a wilderness, as the
property had been totally neglected during the baronet's minority.
But as Lord Morton's carriage, followed by the two equestrians,
drew nearer the buildings, the signs of renovation increased. The
windows were all open, and the scaffolding of the workmen covered
all the main front. The disagreeable odour of paint pervaded the
larger part of the house, and was escaped only when they reached
THE RED HALL. 71
the dining room, which was the ground floor of the old Keep. Here
tliere had been no improvement attempted. The walls were wains-
coted, and the grim old farniture, all oaken, like the walls, gave
an air of antiquity corresponding with the marks of age distin-
gcnishing this part of the edifice. The large dining table in the
centre was covered with a snowy cloth, upon which the noonday
repast was spread when the party entered.
**I bid you welcome to the Eed Hall, my lady," said Sir John,
with courtly grace, ottering his arm, " and I beg you to honour
me so far as to occupy the throne, at the head of the table."
'' That were an ill omen. Sir John," she replied ; " take the head
yourself and allow me to sit at your right hand."
" I accept your presence here as the harbinger of better days
for the Hall. This is my first appearance since the renqi0.tion
began. Later in the summer I hope to take more formal possess-
ion, when you and my lord will preside at a regular festival. It will
be his valedictory, as he relinquishes his guardifinship and inducts
the heir of all the Lacys into his heritage. Parson Johnny, you
may sit next Miss Tamworth, at the end of the table. I have been
sounding your praises on our way hither. See that you keep m^ /
your reputation. Miss Harwood, my love, be seated. Serve,
Thomas !"
It was a recherche little feast. Sir John had brought a cook with
liim from Paris, and that artist won golden opinions from the hun-
gry party. Green turtle, some chops, a salad, and a little wine.
English men and women in sound health extract enjoyment from
feeding that other nationalities are strangers to. After the repast,
which was prolonged a little by all, Lord Morton dismissed the
ladies with great politeness.
" You will have an hour, ladies," he said, " in which to explore.
Sir John desires you to investigate eveiy nook and (torner ^
" And beware of the paint " put in the baronet.
"And while you are absent," continued Lord Morton, '^I will
have to indulge these boys in a smoke. Parson Johnny stole a lot
of my cigars, and has a sui)ply with him. My lady, I beg you to
keep the keys at your girdle hereafter. It begins to grow serious
wten they get after my Cabanas !"
"Nobody had the keys except Allen," said Lady Morton.
" I think you had better jnake no exceptions. Allen, I learn,
thought it special fun to rob his poor old father, because he fan-
cied I was particularly " stingy" about my cigars. Certainly thft^^
72 THE LACY DIAMONDS,
sons of mine have inherited tlieir proclivities from yowr side of the
house^ as no ancestor of mine was ever caught in such tricks."
" My kiudreil have always borne a good reputation," replied Lady
Morton, with pretended dignity. " You bear the name of one of
them whose history is part of the history of England."
" Well, well ! I will say no more. If you once get a womdn
talking about the virtues of her ancestry, there is no telling when
she will stop. Allow me to indicate the way. Keep the corridor
the whole length of the new building. The staircase is at the end.
No danger of paint up stairs. It is all dry. Come, Parson, pro-
duce your stolen proi)erty. I hope you will give us a sermon upon
honesty next Sunday."
Leaving the smokers reeking in the fumes of the vile weed with
which they poisoned the pure air, we will follow the ladies in their
explorations. At the end of the long hall they found the stair-
case, and at its foot a little old woman with a bunch of keys in
her hand.
" Mrs. Froome, the housekeeper, my lady," she said, dropping a
curtesy to Lady Morton. '^ I am to show you the way."
She tripped lightly up the steps with this introduction, followed
by the ladies, who looked with surprise at each other and at the
ivctive little body that preceded them. Arrived at the first landing,
she faced them again and fumbled among her keys, chatting vol-
ubly the while.
^' This corridor, my lady, is on the back of the house, and all the
rooms on this floor open upon the fi'ont lawn. Since Sir Elbert's
death nobody has lived here except my grandson, Thomas, and
myself. You saw Thomas, the butler, at luncheon."
" Your grandson!" said Miss Tam worth, " why he is fifty years
old !"
"Yes. I am ninety-one. I have lived eighty years in the Red
Hall. This is the yellow room. It is the principal guest chamber.
The furniture has not been renewed in my lifetime, and is faded a
good bit. Mr. Lacy says we cannot have any new furniture at
present."
"You mean Sir John?" said Miss Harwood.
" Ko, ma'am. I mean Mr. Barston. He has ordered all the
repairs, and Sir John has only been here once or twice. Mr. Lacy's
father was Sir John's guardian, you know, and since he died, Mr..
Lacy has been watching over him like an older brother. Isn't it
strange," and here she dropped her voice into a confidential whis-
TEE RED HALL. 13
per "isn't it strange that Sir John should look exactly like Sir
Ranald ? I will show you his portrait presently. None of the
Lacys have resembled him, and they do say as Sir Eanald was the
first of the line. But I beg your pardon for chattering so much."
"Goon, Mrs. Froome, if you please," said Lady Morton, "we
are very much interested."
" Well, my lady," resumed Mrs. Froome, " they used to say, ever
so long ago, that the last Lacy would look like Sir Eanald. There
is nothing about it in the prophecy."
"The prophecy!" said all three of her listeners.
" Yes. Many a time I have heard it. This chamber is Sir
John's. You see there is modern furniture here. That is the door
of the dressing room. There is another dressing room adjoining,
and then comes my lady's room. You can go through the two
doors. Ko fear of paint. It has been quite dry for a week. You
can see Oakland from this window."
^'The view is charming," said Lady Morton; "but you were
spsaking of the prophecy."
^'Yes, my lady, if you are not tired we will go to Sir Ka-
nald's room. It is in the tower just over the dining room." She
unlocked the door as she spoke, and passing the other chambers,
reached the end of the corridor. Descending two or three steps
^^^G opened a door, deeply set in the thick wall, and entered a spa-
cious chamber almost bare of furniture. The walls were hung
^ith old tapestry. A large sofa covered with crimson velvet, and
t^o or three arm chairs to match, were grouped together in the
centre of the room. The tapestry was of the same colour, and there
y9,s a sombre air about the apartment in spite of the bright sun-
^lit that streamed in at the open window^s. A faded red carpet
^^'ered the floor, apparently more worn by age than by use. At one
^^d of the room a large open fire-place, with great brazen andirons,
"i&hly polished. A red fire screen, folded, leaned against the wall
Jiear by; opposite, a variety of armour was arranged, some sus-
pended upon the antlers of a deer, fastened to the wall, and some
hanging from iron hooks. In the midst of the armour, a large
^It frame, the picture being covered with a crimson cloth. The
^^^^ixi and its furniture, scrupulously free from dust, had an inde-
xable, weird aspect, that sensibly affected the visitors. The old
"^Usekeeper seemed to enjoy the effect of this show chamber upon
^*ie ladies with a grisly satisfaction, that was positively comical,
^Pou her bright and pleasant countenance. She wheeled the sofa
U THE LACY DIAMONDS.
round, facing the liglit, and when tlie ladies were seated, she dx*
one of the chairs in front of them, and evidently indicated by 1
whole demeanour, as she seated herself, that she was prepared
gratify their curiosity if they chose to question her. My fi
reader, they were descendants of your ancestress. Mother E^
Need I tell you that they did !
^* We always show this room to visitors," began Mrs. Froom
smoothing her apron ^^but I don't have much to say alout tl
family to strangers, of course. But you are kinsfolk, and aft
Mr. Lacy, you are the nighest kin Sir John has. I have beai
many bits of stories about the old Lacys, and maybe you cf
tell me some things I don't know."
"Indeed, Mrs. Froome, we know very little. We can hardly 1
called kindred, however. Lord Morton's grandmother, I think, w;
married to one of the Lacys but I am not sure. I have nev
heard a word about the prophecy, and hope you will tell us aboi
it, that is, if there is no family secret that should not be revealed
The old woman nodded pleasantly, and ambling to the wiudo
she pointed to the gentlemen sauntering under the trees a quart
of a mile off.
" They won't be back under an hour," she said, smacking h
lips. " Of course there is nothing to conceal, leastways from yoi
But to tell you about the prophecy I must begin with Sir Kanald
She resumed her seat, and without more ado furnished the mx
terial for the succeeding chapter.
CHAPTER IX.
Sib Ranald Db Lacy.
I CANNOT tell you, ladies, in what reign Sir Ranald lived,
think it was in the time of Henry Y. I know he fought in som
French battle, and I think it was Azincourt. He was a grea
warrior and a favourite of the king in spite of his religion^ All th
Lacys have been Protestants. It is said of Sir Ranald that h
kept }iis religious views to himself, though he was veiy intoleran
when he could safely indulge his prejudices. He was called th
" Fighting Lollard." After the great battle of Azincourt the Eng
lish army overran Normandy, and it was here that Sir Ranald'
story begins.
SIB RANALD DE LACY. 75
It was at the siege of a French castle where the defenders fought
with great desperation under the Count De Lys. When the Eng-
lisli got in at last they still fought from room to room, and liually
the count and his family, driven into the topmost chamber, made
tbeir last despairing stand. Sir Ranald gained this room with two
or three of his followers, and it is said that he killed two of the
count's daughters who were fighting like men, with his own hand,
and cruelly wounded the third, who fought like a tigress over her
father's body. But she was not killed, and when the conquerors
returned to the main army Sir Ranald brought her with him.
Til ere was a great lot of booty gained and Sir Ranald got the lion's
share, all in jewelry of value. To make himself secure in the pos-
session of this wealth he married the Lady Marie, a French priest
performing the ceremony while the lady was thought to be dying
from her wounds. There is a legend which sajs Sir Ranald bought
tho priest to consent by professing to renounce his religion, and
tlxGt Lady Marie^ who was very bigoted, consented because she
til ought she was dying and wished to secure a higher place in
ff ^aven by saving a notable heretic like the Fighting Lollard,
^Ixose name was a terror in all that region. She did not die, how-
ev^^r, but came to England and lived a year in this very tower,
wliich then stood alone in the midst of the Lacy lands, which in
tliose days reached to Morton Priory.
Once secure in his own home, Sir Ranald's conversion faded away
^U. his retainers were Lollards, and nobody got entrance to the
L ix cy Keep but Protestan t s. Th^re was great strife between him and
his French wife, which culminated in declared hostility when Sir
Ra/nald had his infant son baptized by a Lollard preacher. He
laughed at her vehement recital of his former vows, and when she
reitiiuded him that the most solemn part of his promise related to
tlie faith of any children that might be born to him, he said his
promises to the priest were an " agreement with hell," and were
annulled by a more solemn authority. The unhappy lady, who
was of a violent temper, then declared the marriage was null also,
^^l announced her intention of quitting Lacy Keep with the child
^^ the first opportunity. Whereupon Sir Ranald imprisoned her
lu the room above this, and carried the key at his belt, taking her
daily food to her with his own hands and allowing no communica-
tor ^ith her whatever.
You know the country was in a very disturbed state in those
^^ys. The Lollards were persecuted and slain, wherever it could
1^ '.. .*,
16 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
be done, and this particular locality was the scene of many bit "
feuds. All the nobles nearest the Keep were Catholics, and i^^
had not been for other wars that drew attention from this lit^
corner of the kingdom. Sir Eanald would have found it hard
hold his lands. Besides this, his old reputation as the Fighti:^^
Lollard stood him in stead, as it was well known that the takic^
of the Lacy Keep would be a most costly victory.
I should have told you earlier that Sir Eanald had a half-brothe-^
though not of the Lacy blood. His mother was the widow of S^
Anthony Yane, and her son was two or three years older than S^
Eanald. This man, Sir Hubert Vane, was a rigid Catholic, anc:;
on that account, a favourite of the king. He was also an accom
l)lishe(l courtier, contrasting strongly with Sir Eanald, who wa^
more of a warrior, and whose religious prejudices were opposed \m
the frivolities and excesses of court life. There was a hollow Mend-
ship between the half brothers, tliough each secretly despised th^
other. After the marriage of Sir Eanald the courtier visited th^
Keep once only, bringing some message from the king, and wa,
entertained with all the hospitality due from a Lacy to a guest.
In the few days Sir Hubert spent at the Keep he managed to in-
gratiate himself with Lady De Lacy, and to establish very confiden-
tial relations with her, partly on the score of kinship and partly
on the ground of a common faith. It was just at the time that
Sir Eanald began to display the cloven foot of the Lollard, equal-
ly hateful to his wife and his kinsman. They parted in anger at
last, each regretting that the acciSont of birth forbade an appeal
to the arguments they carried in their scabbards.
After the birch of her son, the countess she called herself the
Countess De Lys resided constantly in her chamber. I would
take you up to see it but it is not necessary. It is like this room,
but has never since been used except as a lumber room. I sup-
pose no one who ever heard the story of the countess would sleep
in it for the Lacy lands. Sir Eanald spent some hours each day
with her, treating her with great courtesy at all times, steadfastly
refusing to discuss the question of creeds, and steadfastly refus-
ing to release her from this imprisonment. All that he could give
her, except liberty, she had. But when he left her she and the
infant spent the long hours alone, seeing no countenance and hear-
ing no voice but his for weary months. He dared not allow her
maids to attend upon her, as he knew she would fulfil her threat
to quit the Keep upon the first opportunity. But her woman^s
wit was too much for all his precautions.
SIR BANAL D DE LACY. 17
Of course the forced seclusion of the countess was known be-
yond the walls of Lacy Keep. Stories of that sort are very apt
to get out. And it happened that Sir Hubert Yaue heard of the
birth of the child, of the mother's imprisonment, and, probably,
of the cause.
Sir Hubert came to Eieter with a body of men-at-arms. One
(lay, when De Lacy was in the lady's chamber, an arrow came in
at the window and fell at his feet. He took it up and found a
billet fastened to the barb. It was from his half brother, address-
ed to his wife, proposing to deliver her from her imprisonment,
and appointing the next night for her flight. The letter also said
that the king promised his protection, and that the church would
annul her marriage with her heretic lord, but woiUd assure the
succession of the Lacy estates to her child. The countess sat
quietly by while he read the letter, and no words passed between
them. Sir Ranald retired from the room and passed the earlier
hours of the night in perfecting his plans to circumvent his wife
and kinsman. It was a serious business to defy the. king ; it was
a far lighter matter to slay his kinsman. He concluded at last to
question the countess again, and if she refused to obey him, to re-
move the child. Accordingly, he climbed the stak again, torch
in hand, and reentered her apartment. It was empty. He rushed
to the open window and saw the rope ladder fastened to the sill
heard the tramp of horses' feet, at the very base of the Keep. A
bow and a sheaf of arrows stood near the window, and catching up
the weapon he discharged an arrow into the darkness. He heard
it ring against a steel corslet, heard a shriek and a curse. He
threw down the bow, and with a Lacy's recklessness leaped upon
the window sill, grasped the frail ladder, and in another moment
was on the ground, sword in hand. At the same instant the court
yard gate was flung open and half a dozen men from the Keep
rushed out with torches and flashing weapons. The horsemen
fled, all but one^ and he was encumbered with the lady. He drew
his sword, howejrer, and spurring upon Sir Eanald, met his ready
weapon. Before the retainers reached the spot the combat was
over. The long sword of the Fighting Lollard had passed through
the body of his half-brother and slightly wounded the countess,
hanging nearly lifeless upon his arm. Sir Ranald's arrow had
glanced from the knight's corslet and pierced the body of his wife.
When the bodies were taken into the Keep the jewels belonging
to the Countess De Lys were found in the bosom of Sir Hubert
78 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
Vane. He had unclasped liis corslet and tlirust the precious
packet in the breast of his leathern doublet. Before he had time to
refasteu his armour the impetuous assault of Sir Ranald compelled
him to betake himself to his weapon, and he had dealt one blow
upon the unprotected head of the furious Lollard an instant be-
fore the latter's blade had found the opening in his corslet. If it
had not been for his anxiety to secure the jewels he would have
escaped the sword thrust. And his blood was the first that stain-
ed them since they had become the Lacy Diamonds."
Lady Morton started.
Yes, my lady, his was the first. They got plenty of stains later.
Such nide surgery as was practiced in that day was soon
applied. The wounds were bound up, the lady carried back to
her chamber, and the dying knigl^t placed upon Sir Eanald's own
couch. Before he died his incoherent mutterings revealed that
the jewels were the real attraction that had brought him to his
death, and not the poor countess. Fearful of attracting attention,
he had come to the Keep with but three of his followers.. To one
of them he had confided the child, directing him to ride to his
camp near Exeter, and he was speedily followed by the others,
when half a dozen armed men issued from the Keep. The corres-
pondence between Sir Hubert and the lady had been carried ou
by arrows, the countess being able to bend a bow equal to a man-
at-arms. Those old oaks you see from the west window sheltered
the knight and his men. And when Sir Ranald liad retired with
the intercepted letter, she immediately sent a shaft into the wood
bearing a note in which she besought Sir Hubert to deliver her
that night. The note was found in his doublet.
The knight died and was buried among the Lacys with due
honours. The countess lingered day by day, weeping for her lost
child. Sir Ranald's wound was slight, and the day after the com-
bat he was scouring the country in search of his heir, but no trace
of him could be found. The men-at-arms that had been encamped
at Exeter had disappeared, leaving no clue by which they could
be followed. Ko information could be obtained from the dying
countess, and Sir Ranald, baffled and wearied, after three days of
fruitless search returned to the Keep in despair. He found his
wife speechless and insensible, evidently entering the dark valley;
and when the sun disappeared behind the fatal wood the lady's
attendants announced to Sir Ranald that she had ceased to
breathe.
THE PROPHECY. n%
OHAPTEEX.
The Prophecy.
WHILE the women were busied preparing for the burial of
Lady De Lacy, Sir Eanald paced his chamber in deep dis-
tress. His life had been passed in contention and strife, but since
Azincourt, where lie had won great renown by his prowess, he
had been followed by a series of misfortunes. In the storming of
the Castle De Lvs he had stained his sword with the blood of
women, and the savage cruelty of that day's work saddened his
after life. It is very probable that the wounds he had inflicted in
the heat of that last struggle in Normandy were given in self-
defence, for the legend says the French women were armed cap-a-
pi6 and fought like the Amazons of ancient times, and in this
last catastrophe he had certainly slain his wife by accident. There
was a proverb extant that declared the " sword that slew woman
or priest" was accursed, and Sir Eanald was not free from tbe
common superstition of his age. He lost the king's favour, and his
companions in arms shrunk from him. Since the birth of his child
and the bitter contention that followed his baptism, his intercourse
with his wife had been most unhappy. While she loaded him
with reproaches and threatened him with desertion, he maintained
the same courteous demeanour, though inflexibly refusing to admit
any professor of the Catholic faith within the walls of the Keep.
The only exception to this rule was the solitary visit of his half
brother, and this had been fatal in its results.
His sorrowful meditations were interrupted by the entrance of
an old man with snowy hair and beard. Sir Eanald placed a
settle for his visitor and continued his walk.
" Thou art disturbed in mind and ill in body, my son," said the
old man ; " I pray thee rest upon yonder couch and I will watch
while thou sleepest."
" I cannot sleep, Father Ealph," replied De Lacy 5 " the events
of the last few days would seem to banish sleep evermore. I
cannot find ground for self-reproach, yet my unhappy fate has
heaped sorrows upon me without measure. Bethink thee: my lady
slain by my hand ; my mother's son died on my sword 5 my child
lost to me beyond the hope of recoverj'^ I And in addition to all
this the certainty of royal wrath and probable persecution of aH
80 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
Lollards for ray sake. . Where wilt thou find shelter if Lacy Keep
be garrisoned by royal soldiers f
" Think not of me, valiant knight. There are many sure
refuges for me, even here in Devon, and many true Christians
who will still gather to hear my message ; but I would fain com-
fort thee in thine affliction, lie member, it was not thy will that
sped the shaft against thy lady's breast ; and to her life was well
nigh intolerable, else would she not have essayed this desperate
V^entnre. The death of Sir Ilubert was instead of thy death, and
thou wilt carry the scar from his brand upon thy brow while thy
life endnres; and I have hope of finding thy son when the bruit
of these late events is over. Thou hast indeed deep cause for
sorrow, but thou knowest there is abundant consolation within
thy reach."
Sir Eanald listened with profound respect to the aged pastor.
It was a distinguishing trait of the Lollard heretics that their
spiritual teachers were universally revered and loved. So many
instances of heroic endurance of persecution and privation were
found among these wandering preachers that they seemed to bear
a charmed life. On his return from France a year or two before,
Sir Eanald had encountered a party of Lollard preachers, in cus-
tody of a small body of archers, led by a Carmelite monk. It was
at night, and the two little troops encamped in the outskirts of a
village. Sir Eanald's Protestantism was not suspected, as Lol-
lards of noble birth were comparatively rare ; but in the morning
the i)risoners were all gone, and De Lacy zealously assisted in the
search for them in the wrong direction ; and a day or two later
the fugitives arrived at Lacy Keep, where they found shelter and
security. Father Ealph, who was among the captives, had re-
mained as chaplain of the Keep, beloved by all its inmates except-
ing the countess.
Sir Eanald paused in his walk, and putting aside the tapestry
opened a secret closet in the wall. From this he took a jewel
case, and seating himself near the venerable Lollard he drew out
a glittering necklace. It was composed of twenty-four diamonds
of wonderful brilliancy, each set in a framework of gold shaped
like an open lily. The gold work was of exceeding delicacy and
beauty, and the precious gems were set in the opening cups of the
gold lilies, the double clasp being covered with emeralds of unu-
sual size. There were spots of blood disfiguring the necklace and
bedimming the flashing stones.
TEE PROPHECY. 81
" Thou seest this accursed bauble," said the knight, '^ aud canst
estimate its value better than I. Know, Father Ealph, that the
rumour of this toy reached me at Azincourt, and the insane desire
to j)Ossess it induced my foray, which ended in tbe fall of the elas-
tic De Lys. Perhaps the possession of these jewels inspired the
owners to resist to the death, and certes, the foul greed that pos-
sessed me in that fierce fray was begotten of the fiend. I need
not tell thee that it is hateful to mine eyes. And now I pray thee
take it into thy keeping. It has been in the custody of its rightful
owner, the mother of my lost heir, and now it belongs to him.
Take thou the charge and tell thy faithful son, who is now wan-
dering in Scotland, the story, that he may assume the charge after
thee. I repent me now that I consented to his departure from the
Keep.''
" Better to entrust both jewels and story to Hester. She is a
wise maiden. The dangers that threaten me and her brother will
not reach her; and it is through her agency chiefly that I hope
to find the child. Thou wilt remen^ber also that the accident of
gentle birth is in her favour, though I have learned, and thou
also, I trust, that no birth is gentle save the new birth. Howbeit
the Lady Hester Langley can gain entrance into houses wherv3
Ealph the Lollard would ne'er be welcome."
'^ Thy daughter is even now in the chamber above," replied the
knight ; " do as seemeth good to thee. Tell her the sad story and
give the jewels to her keeping. Canst thou not exert thy skill
and give me an hour of sleep f
" Doubtless," replied the Lollard. He took a vial from his vest,
and with steady band dropped a small quantity of liquid into a
cup of wine. "Drink this, noble sir, and betake thee to thy
couch. Slumber will steal upon thee anon, and I will watch here
while thou sleepest. I have rare entertainment at hand even a
true copy of a Gospel, which yonder benighted monk, from whose
power thou deliveredst me, had with him. Strange that he should
extract lessons of cruelty and idolatry from such a source !"
Sir Eanald drank the composing draught, and unbuckling his
sword-belt he stretched himself upon the couch. The Lollard drew
the taper behind the knight's helmet, casting the couch into shadow,
and producing his precious parchment was speedily engrossed in
its contents. The deep breathing of Sir Eanald soon proved the
potency of the preacher's drug. The noises of the Keep sunk into
silence^ excepting the clash of armour as the sentinel turned in his
6
82 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
monotonous walk upon the outer wall. As the night cirew on the
wind rose, increasing in volume until it grew into a furious stonn.
The thunder roared and rattled, the lightning gleamed, the rain
lashed the walls of the tower, but the sleeper slept and the student
read, each unconscious of the warfare of the elements. The dia-
monds were lying in the open case, also shaded by the helm, but
to each flash of the lightning, as it came in at the lattice, the jew-
els responded with a shower of rays, like sparks from an anvil.
So prompt was the response, so vivid the answering flash, that
the preacher's attention was attracted, and he laid aside his manu-
script and watched the gems with eager curiosity. Although far
above the current superstition of the time, the Lollard was some-
how impressed with the idea that something weird and uncanny
attached to the jewels, and he stretched out his hand to close the
case. At the instant there was a long, blazing flash of lightning,
accompanied with a terrific roar of thunder, that seemed to shake
the solid Keep to its foundation stone. The old man glanced at
the couch and saw Sir lianald starting up, his countenance looking
ghastly in the ghire of the lightning and his hand pointing to the
opposite side of the chamber. Turning his eyes in the direction
indicatexl, the Lollard saw a sight that seemed to freeze the life
currents in his veins.
The tapestry was drawn aside, the heavy folds held in the white
hand of the Conntess De Lys. She was attired in a long white
robe, a dark crimson spot staining the right side. An arrow in
her right hand, with blood stains on its barb and feather, all visi-
ble in the momentary glare of the lightning, was pointed at the
couch occupied by her lord. A fold of white linen was bound
upon her forehead, and her long black hair fell over her shoulders.
Her pallid lips moved, and while the Keep vibrated and the sub-
siding roar of the thunder formed a hideous accompaniment^ both
knight and Lollard heard each sentence she uttered :
^ 6m)nit)}Ul wit!) bioot) tnatm from hiitdtnan^d otin,
1Cl)e cutde'Ciimbeteb ietueb fl)eit stain bo retain
ICHI tl)t salt toatjes of ocean sljall masl) out tl)e stain !
tDi)0 Ijtretl) Itcb J^eep, of tt)e Cacji^s strain,
^ score anb a Ijalf score XMiji neoer attain,
^11 tl)e totuer anb tl)e last of \\)t acji name
;$l)aU pass from tlje eartl) amib tempest onb flame P'
. The words issued from her lips in a dull monotone, and as she
concluded, another blinding flash illuminated the chamber, and
THE PROPHECY. 88
again the Keep shook under the crasli of the thunder. Her black
eyes glared upon the appalled listeners an instant longer, and
then the tapestry fell into its plaqe, and they were alone. Sir
Ra,Tiald fell back upon the couch, and the Lollard, drawing an
inkliorn from his pouch, rapidly wrote down the words of this
^'iird prophecy while they were still ringing in his ears. When
^e bad finished he placed the parchment in the box with the neck-
lace, which he closed and deposited in his pouch.
The knight collected his confused faculties, and rose from the
^uch while the preacher was still writing, and, after a brief
pause, motioned the old man to follow him. Taking the taper in
his hand he led the way to the stair, and the two ascended to the
death chamber above. The body of the countess was ujjon the
ted, cold and lifeless. The knight laid his hand tenderly uxk)d
her hrow, and could scarcely believe the testimony of his senses
when he felt the cold, smooth surface, and saw the unmistakable
tokens of death. The bloody arrow, which had been drawn from
her side, was lying on a settle, near the bed. Hester Langley
was kneeling at the bed foot, her face resting upon her arms in
peaceful slumber.
" What thuikest thou, good father F said Sir Eanald. " Did
we see that vision but now, and hear those fearful words, or are
we both crazed f
^I cannot answer thee, noble sir,'^ replied the Lollard. "I
have written down the words I heard, or thought I heard. I
cannot think we have both been deluded by the same wild
dream. What sawest thou 1"
" I saw my wife standing in the chamber below, with the shaft
in her hand. I heard the words thou hast written. I saw theuh
overlooking thee while thou wast writing. If I dared to yield to
niy most earnest longing I should spend the remainder of my days
in solitary vigils, like those benighted Avorshippers whose creed
we abhor I Surely there remain for me no more deeds of knightly
prowe^ss. The hand that sped yonder fatal shaft is bereft of its
cunning. The ear that hath heard those words of doom is deaf
henceforth to the sound of trump. Naught remaiueth for me but
the swift fulfilment of her grewsome word. ^ A score and a half
score.' There are three or four dreary years between me and
tliat attainment.''
Ladies, the story of the Eed Lacy is almost ended. Two years
later he married the Lady Hester Langley. A& TiQ\}!QA\i^ ^^s^
84 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
beard of his first-born son, at his death, which occurred a year
after his second marriage, Ralph Lacy, the infant son of the Lady
Hester, was the acknowledgel heir of Lacy Keep.
CHAPTER XI.
The Lacy Diamonds.
I SHOULD have said at the beginning, that J repeat all this
long story just as I heard it. The Lady Mary, Mr. Barston's
mother, told me the most that I have told you, and have yet to
tell. The Red Lacy, as Sir Ranald was universally named, re-
linquished all his warlike habits, and lived the life of a hermit,
very zealous for the Lollard faith, and at the last a preacher of
note among these persecuted people. It is said that he was killed
by a kinsman of Sir Hubert Vane, who was hunting heretics by
authority of Henry Y. in the last year of his reign. The knight
was found at the edge of the dark wood yonder with a cloth -yard
shaft through his body.
Twenty-five years later a gay cavalcade appeared beneath the
walls of Lacy Keep, then occupied by Lady Hester Lacy and her
sou. At the head of the brilliant array was a young knight, who
demanded possession, as the Signior Henry De Lacy, the first born
of the fighting Lollard. The claim was haughtily rejected by the
lady and her son, Sir Ralph. The new claimant then demanded
the jewels of the Countess De Lys, offering to relinquish his
claims to the Lacy lands if these were surrendered. In those
days the value of the diamonds was very far greater than that of
all the lands. This also was refused, and the new comers pre-
pared to assault the Keep. The fight was prevented by the
appearance of Sir Ralph upon the wall, who demanded a parley*
The resemblance between the two knights Avas apparent as they
stood face to face, each scowling upon the other. The object of
the parley was to propose a settlement of their rival claims by
single combat. This was so accurately in accord with the senti-
ment of the time that the proposal was immediately aocepted, and
Sir Ralph rode forth from the court yard sheathed in armor, with
the fatal necklace glittering upon his plumed crest. Their lances
were laid aside by common consent, and they rushed upon each
other with sword and dagger. The elder born was killed^ and the
T^ LACY DIAMONDS, '85
ther, sorely wounded, was carried into the Keep to die. The
nights who had accompanied Sir Henry informed the lady that
is widow and twin sons were in London, and before Sir Ralph
Jied he urgently entreated his mother to yiekl the Keep and
lands to them, the rightful heirs. These half brothers also were
X aid side by side in the cemetery which now belongs to Morton
3*riory, and they are the last of the old stock interred in Devon-
ashire.
The next step in this catalogue of deaths was the sad fate of the
^win brothers; Halberd and Hugh. They had entered the service
^Df the rival houses of York and Lancaster, and in the wars of the
oses they met at St. Albans' under shield, and Sir Halberd fell.
is brother, who did not inherit the Keep, escaped the Lacy curse,
sind lived to see Henry YII upon the throne of England and two
generations of the elder branch laid in early graves. In all the
contests the jewels were somehow the bone of contention between
nival kinsmen, and so continued until they passed out of the
:family nearly a hundred years ago. They were secured by will to
^ Lady Lacy in the reign of George III, and she married a Sir
IVIark Denham after the death of her first husband, and so the
Jewels are gone. I have heard that the Denhams took them to
America, and there is some legend about their death in a wild
part of that country, where they were seeking the diamonds which
had be^n lost. I do not know the particulars ; but I am thankful
to say they are gone. There are the gentlemen on the lawn.
"Ladies," said Lord Morton, "if you intend to dine at Morton
Priory you will have to begin your return journey at once. I
have ordered the carriage."
" We will join you immediately," replied Lady Morton. " Mrs.
Froome, we have leen deeply interested in your story, and some
day I may tell you the sequel. At present we must leave Lacy
Keep ^^
" Look at Sir Eanald first, my lady," said Mrs. Froome. She
drew the curtain from the picture, and the three ladies looked
with curiosity and with a certain trepidation at the face of the Eed
Lacy. It was a sad countenance, not repulsive as they expected,
but positively handsome but for a scar upon the forehead which
the painter had probably exaggerated.
" It was painted after his second marriage," said Mrs. Froome.
"He was called the most dehonnaire of the English knights at
Azincourt. I like to look at him. But there is not the least re-
semblance to Sir John. Do j^ou see any F
86 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
"Xot the slightest!" said the three hidies with a little shiver.
Before they descended, Miss Tarn worth and Het made an ex-
change of apparel. That is, Miss Harwood assumed the riding
habit and Clare took her place in the carriage. The old time
story they had heard was still on the minds of the ladies, and of
course was also on their tongues.
"Do you remember, Herbert, any story about the Lacy dia-
monds'?" said Lady Morton, as they rolled through the lodge
gates.
" Ah !" answered Lord Morton, " Mrs. Froome has been at her
old tricks ! Yes, I have heard her story at second hand. My
dear friend and cousin, Sir Charles Harwood, told me the old
legend. He had learned it from Barston's mother, the Lady
Mary, as she was called; and since his death 1 have heard it
substantially from her. She was the sister of the late Sir Elbert
Lacy, John's father, Miss Clare.''
" Yes, I know. But you have some more recent history of the
jewels, have you not 1"
"Yes. They came into my family and now belong to Lady
Morton. They were left by will to my grandmother, and my
father was her heir. The testatrix was the second wife of Sii'
Mark Denhani, and the diamonds were claimed by his son with-
out any shadow of right. My father thought of emigrating to
America, and these jewels with other valuables were taken there."
" You seem reluctant to speak about them," said Miss Tam-
worth. " I hope you will pardon my question, if it was indiscreet,
and forget it. How beautifully Eet rides I You can see her
there through the glade. She is flirting with Sir John s^ini-
nably!" ^
" Dismiss your fears," said Lady Morton, gayly, " Ret will keep
within bounds. She would require a week to get even with you.
My dear, Clare has heard so much about the diamonds that she
is devoured with curiosity to hear more. Do you object to con-
tinue the story f
" Kot at all. It is rather sad in some parts of it. This Den-
ham, the son of Sir Mark, and a younger son, by the way, went to
Louisiana in search of the jewels, accompanied by his sou. They
were hidden in a grove, and he had somehow got an inkling of
the locality. However, he became involved in some political plot
and was hanged, with his son, on* one of the trees in the identical
grove. The jewels were there for a whole generation. By a very
THE LACY DIAMONDS, 87
remarkable eoncateuation of circumstances I also learned some-
thing about the probable locality, and found them.''
*' Did the old fate attend them I I mean was there any ^ kin
^lood ' shed in the effort to reclaim them f '
Lord Morton started.
" I had forgotten about that legend P' he said. Yes, there cer-
tainly was. A near kinsman of my own, then unknown to me,
tried to kill me, and very nearly succeeded I He was undoubtedly
searching for the diamonds when the fray occurred, and so was I."
" Did you kill himf said Miss Tamworth, timidly.
"No. Heaven be praised! I wounded him severely. We
fought with swords. In that country at that time it was custom-
ary to carry arms. We both had sword canes. He assaulted me,
and in defending myself I wounded him. He wa killed by a rifle
bullet, however, at the end of our encounter. The shot was prob-
ably fired by an Indian whom he had maltreated."
" And the diamonds F
" Were dug up afterwards. Lady Morton wore them on her
wedding daj'. I have never seen them since.''
" I will show them to you some time, Clare," said Lady Morton.
"At present they are in London."
" Were they not injured during their long burial f
" Ko. They, with other valuables, were enclosed in a box that
was cove7'ed with sheet lead and iMjrfectly impervious. We have
passed the equestrians, who are lagging behind us."
" My Lady," said Clare, " pardon me just this last time ! I saw
Eet when she was presented, you know. She had a lovely brooch
and earrings. The former was in the shape of three lilies, with
the diamonds in the bells of the flowers. The earrings were single
lilies, exactly matching the brooch. Are these part of the famous
Lacy diamonds f
" Yes and no ! They were included in the inventory which Lord
Morton received, but I have since learned that they were added
by Lady Denham, who was very rich. The original jewels were
only those of the necklace, and they are larger and finer than those
you saw."
^ Well, I am truly glad, of that I They are so lovely ! and it is a
comfort to think that the horrid curse don't attach to them !"
The gentlemen laughed at this sally.
" Would you not wear the necklace, Miss Clare?" said the Eec-
tor. " Suppose they should be left to you by will "
88 THE LACY DIAMONDS,
"Never!" said Miss Tam worth, with a little shudder. "You
may laugh as much as you please. But I believe every word of
that story, and I would as soon put a snake around my neck as the
Lacy diamonds!'^
OHAPTEE XII.
Two Happy Fellows.
AT the Kectory in Lavington there was a cosy chamber known
as " The Swiss Boy's Den." Mr. Barston, whose habits were
somewhat erratic, was the proprietor of this apartment, which was
kept in scrupulous order. In one corner was a most elaborate col-
lection of fishing tackle. In another, two or three guns and some
curiosities in the shape of outlandish arms. Along one entire side
of the room were some book cases well filled with volumes which
Barston had culled from the large library at Oakland. His father
had been a great student, and Lacy walked in his footsteps. Oak-
land was also a bachelor establishment and the ostensible home
of the " Swiss," but Parson Johnny pleaded so piteously for com-
imnionship that Barston had by degrees grown into the habit of
living with him the larger half of his time. He was swallowed up
in legal studies, and was making faipous progress.
On the morning succeeding the visit to the Eed Hall, Barston
was seated at the table in his " den," deeply engrossed in a formal
looking letter which had just arrived. The Eector was out visit
ing a sick parishioner. There was a glow of contentment on the
handsome countenance of our hero there, it is out ! The author
did not intend to announce him so early, but his gentle readers
have already discovered that Lacy Barston is the hero of this
story. It is hoped, however, that the identity of the heroine is not
so apparent. The author will be very cautious and envelope her
in mystery as long as possible. While Barston was thus engaged,
the hall door was closed with a bang, and coming up the staircase
three steps at a time. Sir John Lacy burst into the den.
" Swiss ! I have been looking for you. It is jolly to find you
here. I have something to tell you ! Botheration on your letters !
You can read them after. I am too happy to wait !"
"My letter contains good news, Jack. I also am happy this
morning."
TWO HAPP Y FELL OWS. 89
" Shake hands then, old fellow ! We are two jolly dogs together.
May I tell my story first V^
^' Certainly,^ answered Swiss. " Here, take this stuffy old chair.
Put your long legs over this one. So I Now fire away while I
hunt a weed.^
'^Kever mind the weed, Swiss, but listen. Just get behind me
so as not to see my blushes ! Oh, Swiss ! 1 think I have got her !
^^ Got whom V^ said Barston, moving behind him.
^'Eet, Ret, Ret Harwood! My beauty, my darling, my darling
Ret ! Oh, Swiss, if I should be mistaken I am lost forever !"
The bright glow passed away from the joyous face behind him,
auclacloud of unspeakable agony settled down upon the broad
forehead. Then lifting his blue eyes to the ceiling, as if in piteous
appeal for strength to endure, and then smoothing his thick beard
ov^er his quivering lips, and with the dauntless air of a tried war-
rior, he came round in the light and faced his happy friend.
* * Let me hear your whole story. Jack," he said steadily-. " Maybe
I can judge better than you what the chances are."
' ' I can hardly tell you P said the excited baronet. " I only know
that I love her so desperately that she must be mine ! You know
we went to the Hall yesterday i Well, she came back with me on
horseback. Oh, how she rides like a Centauress, Swiss ! Well,
she found I was spoony and did not repulse me ! I ventured to
say two or three things about stttling at the Hall, and about the
fu^tnre Lady Lacy and, and, I canH tell you all the foolery I talked.
But she listened, Swiss, and listened kindly. I told her lots about
you and your goodness and "
''And what F
"And that I thought you would make love to Clare if you were
^ot so confoundedly proud of your * poverty,' as you call it, and so
determined not to marry a rich woman !"
"Did your
'* Yes. She says Clare would be a priceless treasure to any man
i^ she were penniless. Those were her very words ! Well, I dined
at the Priory, you know. And after dinner we had music. And
then a promenade on the terrace, and I talked some more foolery,
and she listened ! Oh, Swiss, if I were not so far gone, if everything
were not at staJce, I should feel confident."
"What do you intend to do. Jack?" said Barston.
"I can't do anything until I talk to Lord Morton. And, Swiss,
who is there in the world to take my case in hand but you I Yoii^
90 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
who have stood by me brother, friend, father almost. You, who
have delivered me out of troubles scores of times, saved me from
the consequences of my follies stood between me and death more
than once I And now, that I am menaced with something worse
than death, to whom can I go but to you !''
As he spoke he rose and laid his arm on the shoulder of his
kinsman and hid his face upon it The warrior forgot his wounds,
though they were bleeding, and laying his hand on the heail of his
agitated cousin, his kind eyes filling, he answered him,
" Dear Jack, you can rely upon me. What man can do I will
do for you. I cannot imagine any reason why the course of your
love should not run smooth. It shall if I can make it so, Gk)d
helping me !"
The young men resumed their seats, and Sir John remained
silent, a little ashamed of the emotion he had displayed. His
companion rested his head upon his hand and meditated.
" Jack," said he at length, " let us understand one another. I
never had any serious thoughts about Miss Tam worth. It is not
my poverty but you have not heard my news."
" No I what a selfish fellow I am ! I forgot you had good news
too. What is it F
" This letter," replied Barston, handing it across the table, "is
from Parchment. It announces the death of my grand uncle. Miles
Barston, and my inheritance of his estate. I am not poor now.*^
'' Why that is the old Indian who wanted to repair Oakland."
" Yes. He died suddenly. Parchment authorizes me to draw
upon him for any amount up to fifty thousand pounds. He says
the estate will yield much more."
"I congratulate you, Swiss, with all my heart. If somebody
would only die and leave me such a lot of tin I should feel more
confident about my wooing."
" For shame. Jack ! How can you say or think anything so un-
gracious either of Lord Morton or his daughter !"
" I only meant that I should feel myself a better jpar^'," replied
Sir John, a little abashed. '^ I have no idea of my own pecuniary
condition. Lord Morton has had charge of my interests since
uncle died. I shall not have to give a list of my possessions to
him, fortunately, as he will have to give the list to me shortly.*^
" You will have a good estate, I fancy," said Barston. " There
has been a long minority, and both my father and Lord Morton
have managed judiciously. I know the mortgages are all paid ofil"
TWO HAfPY FELLOWS. 91
'^ I don't care about estates ! If I owned this entire island I
^vonld cheerfully give it for a kind word from Eet. Must I tell
lier that I was mistaken about you and Miss TamwortU f
" Yes ! No ! don't say anything about it. It is damaging to a
young woman to be talked about in that way. When I get spoony
ril tell you in time. Where are you going f
" Back to the Priory. Won't you come with me ?"
" IN'ot to-day. 1 must ride in anotber direction. Did you know
that I had Eoland down here f Yes 5 Parson Johnny sent for him
yesterday, and he is dancing about in the stable yonder, dying for a
good gallop. I am going down to the coast. You know I have a
piece of land there. Here are my riding boots, too. How kind
and thoughtful Parson Johnnj^ is. Do you know, Jack, that he is
about the best man alive P
" No I don't, but I do know who is. It is Lacy Barston, and I
am ready to maintain it on foot or horseback, with lance or sword,
with cudgel or fist, or any other way you choose. There lies my
gauntlet!" He dashed his glove down on the floor, shook his
cousin's hand warmly again, then picked up the gage of battle and
ran down stairs.
Barston followed him more deliberately. Sir John's horse was
at the door. As he mounted Barston called to him to wait until
Boland was saddled, as their way lay together to the end of the
village.
Boland wasted an enormous amount of equine energy as his
rider curbed him, making him shorten his strides so long as they
were in the street.
" It's a bright day, Swiss," said the baronet, " everything looks
jolly. Roland is mad for a canter. There is a good lot of happiness
in the world, Swiss, after all."
" Happiness, Jack, is said to be a flower or a fruit that can never
be graffed. It comes only from one root, and cannot be cultivated
except about the root.**
" And the root F
" Is Duty. You may meditate upon that bit of philosophy as
you ride. I promise you I will. Good bye."
" Stop, Swiss I I don't know so much about your philosophy
and your roots, but I do know if there are two real happy fellows
in England they are here, just about to part. Away with you !"
93 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
OHAPTEE XIII.
Ebenezeb.
ROLAND snorted with delight as his rider tamed out of the
long street, and shaking his rein loosely, started away over the
downs in a mad gallop. They were great friends, Eoland and Swiss^
and had passed through some rough experiences together in the
Crimea. That both of them came out of that little adventure with-
out a scratch, was one of the marvels of the age to all who knew
their history. On the part of Barston the perils he encountered and
evaded were not by any means selected. He had no dare-devil
recklessness about him. But there was a calm philosophy, per-
fectly genuine, that superficial people called fatalism, which maile
him totally indifferent about results when he was working out a
definite purpose. He omitted no needful precautions. For in-
stance, he had a thick steel plate seven or eight inches in diame-
ter securely fastened over his left breast, completely defending his
heart, and he always wore it under his vest when he went into bat-
tle. " You see," he said in explanation, " those Cossack fellows
with their confounded long poles might poke one suddenly, and it
is not on the sword arm side.'' There was always a method about his
" whimsicalities," of which he had any quantity.
All the country between Lavington and the coast was perfectly
familiar to him. He rode through shady lanes, sometimes cutting
off a mile by leaping a hedge and riding across wide fields, where
the odour of the hay cocks was like the breezes from the Spice
Islands. It was high noon when he reached a farm house half a
mile from the little arm of the channel that washed his land. A
boy with a long cut across his face, filled with white teeth, met
him in the lane.
" Sarvant, Master Lacy," said the youth, pulling at a lock of
flaxen hair in lieu of a hat 5 " be ye goin' to the 'ouse F
^' Not now. Tommy. Are you all well f So, Eoland !" and he dis-
mounted. "Here Tommy, mount!" and catching the boy under
the shoulder he swung him into the saddle. " Now ride gently,
Tommy. Put Roland in the stable and give him a mouthful of hay,
and an hour hence some oats. Tell your mother I hope to find a
curd when I come back. I am going down to the water. It is
now twelve and a half. I expect to be back by two o'clock."
EBENEZER. 93
As the boy trotted down the lane Barston crossed a stile into
the meadow. At the other side the ground fell away, and in the
descent to the coast became more broken and rocky. A small
stream ran along the edge of the meadow, and Barston followed its
windings, through stunted bushes and over rough stones, until the
sea burst into sight as he cleared the covert. At this point the
streamlet plunged over the rock, falling eight or ten feet, and then
by a succession of small cascades reached the belt of sand which
the tide left uncovered. The head of the first fall was fully sixty
feet above the sea level. Swiss clambered down the face of
the rock and with cautious footsteps at last reached a wild plat-
form about half way down, where the water was collected in a lit-
tle pool. All around was the solid rock, and the large, flat stone
at the bottom of the pool had been worn smooth by the floods of
ages. At the times of heavy rainfalls, a furious torrent roared
through this rocky defile, and all the earth was washed from the
rocks, which stood in fantastic shapes on every side. It is proba-
ble that no mortal foot had ever reached this nook of the earth
except Lacy Barston's. It was almost inaccessible either from
above or below.
He threw his felt hat on a projecting crag, and drew off his long
boots, and then stretching his body face downwards on the broad
flat rock at the edge of the pool, he gave some slight vent to the
agonies he had been suffering for hours. No human eye could see
him here; no human ear could hear his groans. The plash of
the rill tumbling from the rock above hita, and the gentle murmur
of the stream as it passed out of the pool and rippled on towards
the sea, were the only sounds audible to him. And here hidden,
torn by conflicting emotions, the quaintness of his nobility was
manifested. He spake aloud, holding strange converse with him-
self and One other, and the only Auditor he had.
" Put off thy shoes !'' he began his monologue, " for the place
where thou standest is holy. Oh, my beloved ! How sweet has been
my dream ! And now I know full well that I must dream of thee
no more. Father ! It was a heavy load thou laidst upon my
brain, and heart, and soul! My mother's kinsman! And yet if the
charge had. not been solemnly put upon me I could not have
escaped. My Eet ! My beautiful, my pure Ret ! Mine no more )P
He stood erect, his beautiful face calm and gentle, his kind eyes
looking around this wild prayer place. A great round boulder as
high as his head was on his right hand, and above it a long gray
94 THE LACY DIA3I0ND8.
stone was lying amid the debris of the last flood. He chimbered
upon the boulder and raising the monolith, the young giant stood
it upright on the larger mass. There was a fissure in the top of
the boulder, and the end of the stone he had reared up, slipped
into the crack and wedged itself tight by gravitation. As he stood
by the side of this rude pillar he held up his hand reverently and
said :
" If thou lift thy tool upon it thou hast polluted it. To this spot
will I return whenever I am in sore distress and while this witness
stands. 1 will remember the hills from whence cometh my help.
Hitherto hath the Lord helped me. Ebenezer !'
Half a dozen hours before Sir John had announced to him that
they were the two happiest men on earth. And while he spoke
his own heart was running over with happiness, while Barston's
was waging a grim combat with despair. But now this athlete
had conquered despair, and looked forward with cheerful courage
to the future, and the pang that had rent his heart had been won-
derfully healed, and at this very moment the heart of his kins-
man was torn with agonies that could find no expression in words.
" This place is my Proseuche. Ko temple made with hands can
equal it iu grandeur. No closet of man's contrivance can match it
in privacy. And I alone know the way to it from the hill-top and
from the beach. Now, Master Barston, keep in mind the lesson
learned here to-day. Watch over Jack. The devil told you while
you were galloping over the downs that you were a better fellow,
and worthier of Ret. Sister Ret I It must come to that, my boy. If
the devil had not lied, and if you were every way worthier, so
much the more are you bound to teach Jack how to equal you.
It is part of the charge. And the main lesson you must remember
is the weakness of nature and the strength of grace. So take the
motto-word ' Ebenezer !' I must go up there once more.''
He climbed the boulder again, and stood by the side of his pil-
lar. There was an odd mixture of superstition and of simple
reverence in the man. " It would take a power equal to the lift of
a ton weight to withdraw this stone from its socket," he said, as
he bent over and kissed its rugged summit. " And now for a dip
in the bright sea. * Ebenezer !' "
Going down the rock from point to point with the assurance of one
familiar with the pathway, he reached the naiTowing belt of yel-
low sand. As he looked out upon the water he saw three things.
First, the cluster of rocks a mile out towards the sea, known as
THE SMUGGLERS' GA VE. 95
"The Smugglers' Cave;" second, half way between him and these
rocks a boat drifting in shore, her sail swaying from side to side
as she ran up into the wind now and again ; third, a swimmer
coming in from the rocks, evidently after the drifting boat, but
gaining nothing, though he was putting forth all his strength.
** Heaven be praised !" said Barston, as he ran down the shallow
bank, "there is time enough if 1 do not waste my powers. *Eb-
enezerl'^' and he clove his way through the advancing tide, run-
ning like a mill race, with the vigour of a trained athlete.
CHAPTEE XIV.
The Smugglers' Cave.
TII EFOEE Sir John Lacy reached the Priory he met Lord Mor-
-^^ ton's carriage. The two young ladies were within. He had
^^eu so filled with his story, and so engrossed while ho talked
'^th Barston, that he forgot the appointment of the previous
^'^ening. It had been arranged tbat he should take them Eet
^^d Clare to the Smugglers' Cave, and his errand to the village
"^^s to engage Barston for the fourth seat.
** And you have forgotten everything," said Miss Tam worth
reproachfully.
** I confess my fault," replied Sir John. "Don't scold, please,
^^t listen. Both Swiss and I had matters of high import to
"^iscuss, and he has gone on horseback ahead of us. We shall find
^^tt at the farm house, no doubt."
^^ What farm house F
'* At the Eipple Farm. It is Barston's property, and is near the
^^ly spot. We will take the next turning and save five miles by
^"^oiding the village. I can leave my horse at Oakland, which is
^ot far distant, and join you in the carriage. Take the first turn
^ the left, William, and I will catch you at the lodge as you
P^ss." So saying he galloped ahead and was soon lost to view.
''He is a nice youth," said Clare. "I had arranged a pretty
speech for Mr. Barston and shall forget every word of it now."
*' Never mind, dear," replied Miss Harwood, " you can compose
^^other. I never knew you at a loss. If we meet Mr. Barston
^n the coast we can bring him back with us."
When the Baronet joined them again he looked so contrite and
96 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
humble that he was forgiven at once. " It was all owing to my
confounded selfishness !'' he said. '' I was so intent upon my per-
sonal gain that I hardly listened to the good news Swiss told me.
His grand uncle is dead, Miss Harwood, and Barston gets a big
lot of money."
" Indeed ! That is good news. Father will be glad to hear of
Mr. Barston's good fortune."
" So will everybody else that knows him. He took it very
coolly himself. I don't think he expecteil it either, as he and the
old gentleman did not part on very good terms, the latter being
displeased because Swiss would not accept a loan from him. He
was a peppery old fellow, and told Swiss ' he was very independent
on a very small foundation.' "
^' What did Mr. Barston reply F asked Clare.
" He said ' his independence was the bulk of his capital, and a
debt incurred without certain means of repayment was a theft.' ^
" Which is true," remarked Miss Harwood.
^'Bosh!" said the baronet; " such a theory carried out would
destroy the credit system."
" And abolish the bankrupt courts," retorted Eet.
"There you go!" said Sir John; "that comes of having a
brother in Parliament. I suppose Herbert rehearses his speeches
to you before delivery, and you will know as much as a blue book.
Hasn't he been tinkering at the bankrupt courts lately !"
" Indeed I don't know. It was Father who told me about the
bankrupt courts. From the little I understood I thought they
were a necessary evil, though."
" Here is the Eipple Farm," said Sir John, " and there is Tommy
Dawson. Hillo, Tommy I has Mr. Barston been here to-day ?"
" Yes, sir," answered Tommy, opening his gash ; " he left his
'orse and went down to the water 'cross the meadow. He is coomin'
back at two o'clock, and mammy is fixin' a curd for him."
" All right. Drive on, William ; we shall find him at the Rip-
ples. That is the little fishing village, ladies, whence we are to
sail for the cave."
But Mr. Barston was not there. Sir John soon secured a trim
little boat, and, rather vain of his nautical skill, declined all offers
of assistance, put off with his fair freight and reached the Smug-
glers' Rocks in safety. They landed, and leaving the sail free. Sir
John secured the boat by bringing the anchor on the rough pier and
sticking the fluke in a crevice in the rocks. Then passing around
THE SMUGGLERS' GAVE. 9t
^o tlie sea side of the miuiature island they were soon engrossed
^u -tleir explorations.
In less than an hour after their arrival Sir John noticed the
^apid encroachments of the tide and warned the ladies that they
"^onld soon be forced to embark or to take refuge in the cave
proper, which was ten or fifteen feet above high water mark. It
^ad been voted inaccessible upon the first survey, and they de-
clared their readiness to return. Sir John led the way to the
landing, and they beheld with dismay the boat adrift and far out
of reach, wind and tide both carrying it towards the shore. The
anchor had slipped from its fastening, and was probably retarding
the boat's progress as it occasionally touched the bottom. The
gravity of the situation was instantly apparent to the barpnet,
and he maintained a cheerful demeanour with great difficulty.
" Ladies," he said, * you must return to the other side of the
rocks and I must swim after the boat. Do not delay, for seconds
of time are now of enormous value- If the tide advances before I
get back you can climb the rocks. Be brave and hopeful, and if I
do not return. Miss Harwood, you will know that I have given
my life a forfeit for imperiling yours I Not a word, but do quickly
as I counsel you I" He threw off* his coat and waistcoat while he
talked, placing them high up on the rocks near him, and the terri-
fied girls hastened to obey him while he struggled out of his boots.
A minute later he was riding with the tide and making too much
progress to last !
Our friend Barston with measured strokes neared the boat, and
with his muscles in full vigour grasped the gunwale. With his
hands once upon the boat's side the trick of the gymnast stood
Mm in stead, and in a moment he was Ij^iug panting in the bottom
of the rocking boat. Small rest served him. He had detected
the trailing anchor before he reached the boat, and his first task
was to draw that in. Then catching the sheet he drew the sail
close aboard, putting the tiller down, and went with race-horse
speed across the course of Sir John.
" Keep up a minute, Jack!" he shout^ed 5 " I must tack once."
" ^NTever mind me, Swiss I Go to the rocks and take off the
women. I can keep up here an hour."
Swiss made no reply, but putting the boat about passed within
ten yards of the baronet. Another short tack brought the boat
beyond him to windward, and then letting the sheet loose, Bar-
ston drifted down upon him. Getting his arms around Mi& ^Ai^-
7
98 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
pery body, he got bis sboiilders, then his waist, above water, and
finally dragged him into the boat by main strength.
Sir John was exhausted. He had put too much steam on at
the start. While he was getting back his powers his companion
talked to him.
" It would slightly surprise the ladies. Jack, for me to present
myself just now. My apparel is on the main land, yours is on the
rocks. When you are equal to the task I will relinquish your
boat to you again and take to the water. By-the-bye, one more
tack will bring us to the rocks. How do you feel F
'^ I believe I can breathe, Swiss. How does it happen that you
are always near when I am endangered f
"it is my charge, Jack. !N"oue of your nonsense now! Can
you howl F
' Yes.''
" Well, howl out loudly. The girls will hear you now."
'^ Howl yourself
" I won't. I don't wish them to know I am here 5 I should die
of shame 1 Howl, you villain, and relieve their minds !"
" Courage !" shouted Sir John. " Scream if you hear."
A very musical squeal, in duett, came floating over the water.
" There, Jack, take the tiller. Are you all right f
" Certainly. Where the deuce are you going I"
"Ashore," replied Swiss, as he plunged head foremost over-
board. When his head emerged he went on : " Before you can
get into your duds I shall be near the land. The wind and tide
both favour me. Don't mention me to the girls. I will meet you
at Eipple Farm."
When Mr. Barston reached the shore he saw the little vessel
gliding from behind the Smugglers' Eocks, the broad sail full and
the baronet astern with his hand on the tiller. Her head was
turned towards the shore, and Barston drew his body up the face
of the rock and was speedily hidden behind the stunted bushes
that grew in the crevices ; but while he was not visible he was
audible, and if the boat had been half a mile nearer its passengers
would have heard a voice of wonderful power and sweetness car-
olling out :
" A wet sheet and a flowing sea,
And a wind that follows fasti"
" I have two things to do," said Swiss, as he reached his Pro-
seuche *^ first, to return thanks to the Helper I" and he stood
TEE SMUGGLERS' CAVE. 99
:everently a few minates in silent devotion ; " next, to dress and
^0 to Eipple Farm ; and I may add, thirdly, to eat Mrs. Dawson's
-^urd before the ladies get there, lest she have but one ! One curd
between two healthy young women, at two o'clock, P. M., would
be a hollow mockery ! Besides, I saw a lunch basket in the boat !
Perhaps they don't like curds either; or if they do, they don't
know anything about Mrs. Dawson's ! Heigho ! It is a clear case.
I shall have to do without the curd until I know they won't have
any. It would be dreadfully underbred to eat it !"
The air of lofty indifference with which Mr. Swiss regarded Mrs.
Dawson's spread, was very comical. There was a curd of about ten
inches diameter and two inches thick. There was a little pitcher
of yellow cream. There was a dish of golden Porto Eico sugar that
had never been passed through refiners' hands, and was therefore
saccharine. Swiss licked his lips in his mind's eye while he re-
sisted the old dame's entreaties to partake of her dainties. He
put her off with various evasions until Lord Morton's equipage
appeared in the lane. Mr. Barston assisted the ladies to alight,
kept a grave face as he glanced at their wet shoes and skirts, for
the sea had caught them before the boat reached their perch on
the rocks, and listened very politely while both of them together
recounted their adventures. The story was not very coherent,
but Swiss understood it all.
" Mrs. Dawson will allow us to dry our feet at her kitchen fire,
I am sure," said Miss Tam worth.
" And she will divide between you goddesses some nectar and
ambrosia she has been saving for you," said Barston, loading the
way into the kitchen. " Behold the feast, and fall to !
"Not one taste I" said Miss Harwood, decidedly. "Tominy
announced to us two hours ago that this curd was not prepared
for goddesses at all. Allow us to return the invitation ; ^ fall to '
yourself."
"Never! Curds are my daily food. I am tired to death of
curds ! And this is raw Porto Eico sugar ! Terribly indigestible
stuff no doubt."
" Oh, how nice it looks !" said Eet.
" Nice ! Do you know what you are saying T
" Certainly. I always take raw sugar with curds."
" Do you indulge in curds. Miss Harwood f
"Whenever they are abundant and not bespoken," said Eet.
''tlease eat it up, Mr. Barston, if you can. I don't V^^VVkk^ ^ko^-
100 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
body could eat that monstrous curd all at once. We had sand-
wiches in the carriage.''
" Lawks, my lady !" said Mrs. Dawson. " I have three more
curds ^"
"Mrs. Dawson," said Swiss, "it is unjustifiable homicide for
you to keep them another minute. If you will produce them I
will show these ladies that one honest man can manage one curd.
Jack will eat another, and we will see what they can do with the
other two."
When the party quitted the Eipple Farm Mrs. Dawson had not
the vestige of curd on her premises. William sat on the box and
nibbled sandwiches.
CHAPTER XV.
Ah! Che la Mobt.
THE windows were all open looking out upon the terrace at the
Priory. It was after dinner, and the candles were illuminating
the room where sat Lady Morton, her daughter, Miss Tamworth,
Lord Morton, Sir John Lacy and the Rector. The author has been
oppressed, since he introduced the ladies, with the conviction that
he must describe their dresses at least once, and the present occa-
sion seems ox)portune.
Lady Morton wore a pearl coloured silk, trimmed with two
flounces, pinked out and headed with broad cross cut folds of
pearl coloured China crepcj caught and crossed at intervals with
narrow folds of pearl satin. Her overskirt was of China crSpCy
trimmed with folds of satin and rich fringe. The low body was
trimmed with Grecian folds of crepe de Chine bordered with fringe.
Her fair neck was surrounded with rich lace, held in with very
narrow black velvet.
Her daughter wore a dress of apricot ^owtt de soiey trimmed upon
the lower skirt with a deep flounce of white point appliquS lace.
Her overskirt, sleeves and sash embroidered in a delicate flower
design, scarlet, green, black and white, bordered with lace, was
remarkably striking. Her square open bodice, embroidered to
match, displayed a square of tulle laid in folds upon the neck.
Miss Tamworth was dressed in a black gro8 graiUj with a flounce
AH! GEE LA MORTtl. 101
eight incbes deepj the plaits of which were laid in clusters all one
way, with a space the width of the plaits between. This space
was occupied by three pointed straps of black velvet, the middle
one the deepest. Tunic overdress of black cashmere, trimmed
with a broad band of black velvet and looped up on the sides but
not on the back. She wore a butterfly bow at the back, Hunga-
rian sleeves, and overcoat sleeves of black silk.
This accurate description, the author flatters himself, is a tri-
umih of taste and ingenuity. That the costumes were perfectly
stunning cannot be doubted, and the author has no uucomfortable
dread of making a mess of this business, as he has copied verbatim
the three descriptions from Bemoresfs Monthly. What the ladies
looked like, thus attired, the fair readers Avill judge for themselves.
It is hoped they will approve. If not, they will please remember
that Madame Demorest is responsible, and not the writer, who,
unhappily, does not understand a word of the jargon.
" Come Eet, come Parson," said Lord Morton, " we must try
those s.elections from Trovatore. Are you in accord. Parson F
*' Twang, twang. Yes, sir,'^ responded his son.
" Well, commence, my dear. Andante I One, two, three, four,
now !" and tossing his violin into place he led off. Lady Morton,
mistress of the instrument, played the piano accompaniment.
The rector with his violoncello added to the firmness of the foun-
dation, while his father played the plaintive melody with exquisite
grace and feeling. The listeners were charmed, and unanimously
demanded an encore. As the first notes of the prison song, "Ah!
che la mort^,'^ were sounded, a voice joined in from the terrace,
"Ah I I have sighed to rest me
Deep in the quiet grave,"
and the wail was so life-like and genuine that all the listeners were
visibly affected. Mr. Barston stepped into the room through the
French window as the song concluded.
" Why, Swiss !" said the rector, " I never heard that song with
such power before. Do you really want to die 'i^
" Not immediately," replied Barston. " But to confess the truth
I was affected when I began to sing, and perhaps my voice trem-
bled a little."
"What was it, Swiss F
" Why, I discovered that you were playing in two flats instead
of four. That high B took all the skin off my throat. I did not
know it until it was too late to stop."
102 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
This was a very lame and impotent conclusion. All of his audi-
tors Jaughed excepting the rector.
" Why did you not come to dinner, Mr. Barston f said Lady Mor-
ton ; " we waited for you."
" The ladies promised to visit Oakland to-morrow, Madame," re-
plied Swiss, " and I had to ride over to warn my retainers. Tbey
will expect luncheon, and the experience I had of their prowess
to-day at Eipple Farm, coupled with my knowledge of the state
of the Oakland larder, made it doubly necessary to prepare "
" Why, Mr. Barston F said Miss Tamworth, " we had nothing
but curds."
" And bread and butter. Mrs. Dawson looked aghast when she
removed the dishes. There were four curds all of good dimen-
sions."
'* And Swiss had the big one and ate every bit of it," said Sir
John. "In fact, I believe he had engaged all four of them for
himself. Mine was quite small and I just nibbled at it. Swiss
looked so cross that it took away my appetite."
"Come out on the terrace, Swiss," said the rector; "I would
not stay here and listen to such slanders."
When the young men got beyond earshot the jt;tor put his
arm through his friend's and gave an affectionate squeeze.
" What ails you, Swiss f - he said simply.
" Don't ask me any questions, Johnny. I am slightly unstrung,
but I shall be better anon."
"Don't tell fibs, Swiss. You are not slightly unstrung but
thoroughly miserable about something. Out with it. Maybe I
can help you."
" Alas ! no. If kind sympathy were all I wanted I know yours
would be freely given ; but, Johnny, I will just say one word, and
that is, I cannot tell you^ of all men, what distresses me. Let that
sufi&ce, dear friend, and don't torture me with questions."
The rector looked amazed, meditated a moment, and blushed.
Swiss saw the colour mounting up to his temples, in the moon-
light.
" Your song was not all sham, Swiss, was it ?"
" No. I am ashamed to own it to you even. But it would be a
great lie now. The manhood that longs for death is little worth.
In a few days I shall find the path I must take. I am confused
now. Did you read Parchment's letter? I sent it to your studj^"
" Yes. It cannot be that which troubles you."
AH! CHE LA MORTtl. 103
" I don't know. I think I should sufTer less if I were poorer.
The old gentleman has left a large estate. I must go to Calcutta,
H think, as he had extensive interests in ludia which require look-
ing after. I am thankftil for that prospect. Let us talk about
something else. It is not at all jolly for a fellow to be moaning
over his own troubles. Johnny," he added suddenly, ^' if I have
"to go away, promise me that you will watch over Jack.''
" Certainly, Swiss. I should do that anyhow without a promise.
"You must tell me what special dangers to avert."
" I need tell you nothing. We have been boys together, and
'^Q know each other's faults and foibles. I know yours so well
that I can transfer Jack to you without fear, if you will only feel
that you have a charge, as I have always had. Jack is a good
hoy, has good impulses, but he is easily misled. My work has
ever been to counteract evil influences, to watch for them, and to
thwart the devil on every side. If you appeal to Jack's honour
you will always get him. Let him see the right and he will avoid
the wrong."
" Swiss, dear friend, tell me, have you gotten rid of ^dh! che la
morte P There is an intonation that reminds me of it while you
talk."
Barston stopped in his walk and raised his big eyes to the glo-
rious sky. The full moon was climbing over the tree tops on the
eastern edge of the park. The rector watched his calm face
anxiously, until Barston turned his eyes to his and answered, with
inexpressible sweetness,
" Dear Johnny, I know that my grief is entirely and thoroughly
selfish. I hate selfishness enormously. Don't you think I shall
root it out ? I know I shall. But in the process there are some
poor little plants that I have been cultivating, and watching, and
watering, and loving, that must be rooted out also. It will hurt
me a little, but will not kill. When I was singing that lying song
I did think of possible tigers or cobras in India, but that is gone.
I cannot think of any lines more utterly mendacious than " and
here he bui*st into song
" Ah I \ have sighed to rest me
Deep in the quiet grave I"
" Let us go in. Parson. Those amiable ladies are sharp eyed
and sharp eared. If you have blundered on the truth, with your
slow masculine reasoning, how much more infallibly will feminine
\
104 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
clairvoyance analyze inflections in a fellow's voice. The next hor-
ror to positive misery is the pity it invokes. Let us go in and be
hilarious."
" That is deceit, Swiss.''
" On the contrary-, it is genuine phUosophy. I cultivate jollity
upon principle. I must go to London on Saturday. When we
meet again the clouds will be gone, and we begin to dissipate
them to-night. Come in."
" Poor Swiss !" said the rector, " you must grant me the luxury
of sympathy. If yon would allow me I might gild the edges of
your clouds a little."
" Bad policy, Johnny I Don't waste gilding on such bad mate-
rial. I happen to know that the sunlight is behind them, and
sooner or later they will vanish. It is the Sun of Bighteousness,
Parson, with healing in His beams."
" Swiss," said the rector, " I was called out this morning to see
one of my flock. It is old Willis. I tbink his days are num-
bered. If you would see him you might comfort him in many
ways, chiefly by giving him cheerful views of the country beyond
the dark valley. There are things he would say to you which he
will not say to me. What do you say f My profound conviction
is that a sure place to look for the rays you speak of is in just
such ministrations."
"Thanks, Parson," answered Barston, "I will visit him to-
morrow. But my creed is not Episcopal, you know."
" Pooh ! what do I care for your creed f All creeds are alike
when one faces death. I mean the minor fripperies that separate
evangelical sects. I am entirely willing to risk Willis in your
hands, and I engage to endorse every word you say to him."
" Come in ! I am going to have ' Trovatore' over again. Your
father can easily transpose to A flat, and we will make Miss Glare
sing Leonora's part. AUons F
OHAPTEE XVI.
Willis.
^^ "jVyTY name is Lacy Barston," said that gentleman as the
-iyJL door of Mr. Willis's house was opened, in response to
his knock. " May I come in ? Mr. Harwood, the rector, told mo
Mr. Willis was sick. Are you his daughter
WILLIS. 106
" Yes, sir,^^ answered the handsome girl he addressed 5 " walk
iflj sir. Father is sitting np to day. He feels better."
Swiss followed her into the little sitting room at the end of the
passage, and found the invalid, propped up in an arm chair at
the open window. His daughter placed a chair for the visitor,
and taking up some needlework, which she had apparently laid
down to admit him, resumed her seat at a little distance, furtively
examining the new comer as she bent over her sewing. She had
clear, cold eyes, watchful and keen, and a decided air of self-pos-
scission and composure that attracted Barston's attention.
^' I am glad to see you down stairs, sir," said he, as the girl an-
nounced him" Mr. Lacy Barston, Father."
*^ Thanks," answered Willis, feebly. " I think I feel better
down here. The doctor bids me throw physic to the dogs, which
r ^m quite ready to do."
^' The rector invited me to call upon you," said Swiss, turning
^lie full blaze of his gentle eyes upon him; " and it will give me
S'l^eat pleasure to serve you in any way."
^^A little less than kin but more than kind," muttered the sick
^^^a.11. " That is a poor travesty, too. I am sensible of your kind-
^^ss, sir, yet hardly know how to avail of it."
^* Mr. Harwood knew I was going to London in a day or two,
^^i*liaps he thought I could render you some service there."
** Ilfo, unless you might . But I hesitate to trouble a gentle-
J^J^^n like you with petty commissions."
*^ I beg you will dismiss your scruples and entrust me with any
^^^siness that I can do. It will be a kindness to me, as I desire
^-^^^Upation above aU things."
*^ Well, sir, there is a manager in London ^his name is Tomp-
^itis who may be found at ITo. 10 Burnet street, Strand. He
^vv-^sj me certain moneys. I do not know how much, but, much
^-^ little, 'twill be acceptable. It is my proportion of the gains of
^^^ last tour through the provinces."
" How can I teU if he makes the proper settlement f" said Bar-
^^^n, entering the name and address in his note book.
. " He is honest. You will only have to tell him that Joe Willis
^ ill and in need. He will pay you if he has the money. We
*ia.\r^ been together for three years ^players, sir, but
** All the world's a stage
And all the men and women merely players.' "
** And at which scene are you now performing ?" said Barston,
^^Hfeing pitifulJj at the wan face of his interlooulot .
106 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
^^Tlie lean and slippored pantaloou at least, and perhaps
little lower. But the last scene-shifting does not appal me s
much. I am in doubt about Kitty there, and cannot decide as tc^
her future. There is something in your face and manner, sir, thaC:=^
emboldens me to ask you to watch over her ^"
" I need no one to watch over me, Father," said Kitty, gently
but decidedly.
*' Foolish girl ! the world is full of snares and pitfalls. This
gentleman is the son of the Lady Mary, of whom I have told you.
I am a native of the village, Mr. Barston, though I have rarely
seen it for more than a dozen years. BLitty was born here, but
has been the companion of her father through all his wanderings.
When I become a ^ grave man ' I pray you to think occasionally
of my daughter, and shield her from harm if you can."
" I will. When I return may I see you again I Thank you.
I have been a medical student and have some little knowledge of
diseai^es. I think you will be feeble while you live, but that you
will live longer if your mind is tranquil. Have you any other
considerations that cause you anxiety besides those that belong
to earth f '
" I can hardly answer you. Perhaps I rely somewhat upon the
record of a blameless life, and so find tranquility."
" It is a safe dependence, my friend. I have no other hope
than that, except it be the record of a death also. It is the
blameless life and the blameful death, united^ that make the un-
answerable plea."
" The rector said as much," answered Willis. " He left a book
for me to read that interests me greatly. It is here," and he pro-
duced it.
" ^ The Pilgrim's Progress,' " said Barston. " My dear sir, I
leave you in good company. My deUberate judgment is that no
uninspired book can compare with ' Bunyan.' When I return we
will discuss it."
" I cannot take kindly to this theory of imputation, on either
side of it," said Willis thoughtfully. " Adam was too far remote
from me to damage me, even if the transmission of guilt were
right."
" Did your father have any pulmonary trouble If" said Barston.
^' Yes. He died of pulmonary disease."
"And therefore you sit there feeble and fainting. All the
doctors of all schools will tell you that physical ailments descend
WILLIS. lOT
from sire to son. There are many analogies in natm^e's laws.
Why should not moral ailments be transmitted also f -
" I have not thought of that ! It may be so. But if true, it
adds to the difl&culty of the converse proposition the righteous-
ness V^
" Ah I brother mortal, that is inherited also ; read rare old
* Bunyan.' Ko other man has so clearly stated the case. You
will be pleased with the quaintness of his utterances. Eead the
allegory, and if you find him incomprehensible apply to the rector
for explication* I almost know ' Bunyan ' by heart, and as I grow
older, and meet with works of greater pretension, I admire him
the more.''
"It is pleasant to hear yoUj sir," replied the sick man; " when
may I see you again ?"
"To-morrow," said Barstou, rising and pressing his hand. "Good
bye. Miss Kitty, you may read to your father if he tires. He is
happy in having a woman to minister to him, especially as that
woman is his daughter." He shook hands with her at imrting, and
w^alked rapidly in the direction of the rectory, where Eoland
awaited his coming. Half an hour later he was cantering through
the lodge gates of the Priory, whence an equestrian party was
about to start for Oakland.
" I am puzzled with this new charge," said Swiss to himself, or
to Eoland. " Here is an old fellow in the last stage of Phthisis
PulmonaliSy if my medical lore is not at fault. The girl evidently
knows it, and she is entirely resigned,, apparently. She is as self-
reliant as Eet Harwood. But there is a wide difference be-
tween them. Eet walks the earth like a bom princess, endowed
with a majesty that is unselfish and beneficent. The other seems
to rely upon constant watchfulness* Eet's face refiects a thousand
emotions. The other manifests no emotion whatever. I foresee
that Kitty will furnish me occupation when her father dies. Cold,
distrustful and wilful. It would have been far more pleasant to
watch over Eet. But there comes in the innate selfishness. In-
nate ! Selfishness was a prime ingredient of the forbidden fruit.
" Two or three things to be done, Master Barston. First : con-
vince yourself that Jack is a worthier fellow than yourself, and
then instruct Eet and her father. It is not difficult if you will only
be honest. Second : get Parchment to use some of this new money
in paying the mortgage on the Lacy lauds, and see that you do it
SQ secretly that Jack will not even suspect you. There is a test
108 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
for your wit, my boy. I suspect Parchment won't do. Some otlit^
legal limb mu8t be found. Parchment would interpose some stc^
pid objections, and Lord Morton would pump him dry. Third : olc
Willis and his money. It is not probable that Mr. Tompkins wil
have a large balance. You must make him owe Willis, say Miy
pounds, and let him remit it himself. If you take it Willis will
question you, and lying is out of your line of business.
'^ If you attend properly to these little matters, you may perhaps-
spend Christmas in Calcutta. If all goes well, Jack wiU be out of
your charge by that time, and Willis will also be beyond the
reach of your ministrations. Then you may spend a year of mod-
erate mourning, and educate your heart to cultivate new affec-
tions. Don't be ass enough to conclude that all nature is antago-
nistic because you have to root out your foolish love. O, my prin-
cess! if I might have won thee! But that is positively your last
groan, my boy. Accustom yourself to think kindly and as be-
comes a brother of Jack's wife. There's another stinger for you to
throttle. It is worse than old Blixem's pet problem, which you
solved by foi*ty-eight hours of patient application. This is a mat-
ter for forty-eight years, if you live so long. So go at it.
" Eoland ! I sometimes fancy I should like to be with you in
the Crimea again. But it was very poor amusement to be chop-
ping up those Russian fellows. Yet how you used to enjoy it,
Eoland. I have known you to leap clear of the gTound, you old
rascal, with sabres flashing around you, and the din of the bottom-
less pit driving men mad. Do you remember getting that scar on
your neck ! That was a Cossack lance. The poor fellow that car-
ried it carried his right arm home in a sling, sir.
'Away with melancholy,
Nor gloomy changes ring.'
" The chap that made the music for those jolly words must have
had a queer idea of congruity. The Dead March in Saul is no
worse. There is the house, and there are the ladies. Jack is assist-
ing Miss Harwood to mount. Parson Johnny is escorting Miss
Tamworth. Eoland, you shall have the honour of trotting beside
Lady Morton's bonny bay. Most excellent lady ! I love and re-
vere you ! You keep ever before me the memory of my mother.
A large part of my last dream has been the hope of transferring
that title to you. Bah ! Good morning, ladies. You honour me
by trusting my punctuality. It is ptecisely one o'clock. My lady,
may I escort you to Oakland F
ONE YEAR LATER. MR. BUTLER. 109
CHAPTER XYII.
One Year Later. Mr. Butler.
THE will of Miles Barston, Esq., contained several stipulations.
One provided that five thousand pounds should be expended
in repairs at Oakland, and even indicated the sort of improvements
lie desired. Another, after enumerating certain Indian possess-
ions, directed the legatee, Lacy Barston, to proceed to Calcutta
(where the testator died), and to dispose of this property under
very accurate instructions. The amount of money invested in
Indian securities was considerable, and the wisdom of the old man
was manifested in the directions he left for their disposal. When
Barston embarked upon the return journey, he was possessor of
rather more than one hundred thousand pounds that the East
Indian part of his inheritance had yielded.
The ship Orion had very few passengers from Calcutta, but she
called at Port Philip and took up a few more. She also took a new
mate, replacing an officer who had died in Calcutta. The new
man, whose name was Butler, was young, but proved himself a
thorough seaman, to the satisfaction of the captain, who was com-
pelled to dispense with his ordinary caution and to accept the only
sailor he could find in the port with sufficient knowledge to navigate
the ship. Butler was very taciturn and reticent would give no
other account of himself than that he had deserted from an Ameri-
can vessel a year earlier to engage in the hunt for gold. He had
found some, too, and when the bargain was concluded he entrusted
a weighty bag of gold dust to his captain, to be returned to him
upon the arrival of the Orion at Liverpool. The ship from which
he deserted was the Bellona^ and he only did what every other
sailor on board had done, namely, relinquish his wages already
earned and join the crowds then flocking to the newly discovered
diggings. He was not an officer only an able seaman. Th/a story
was corroborated by the authorities of the port in the main, and
the offence was very materially modified by its universality at that
particular time. Butler was sober, expert and vigilant, and rather
a favourite with Captain Hardy after they had been a few weeks at
sea.
Mr. Barston was attracted 3lso by something in the mate's man-
ner or appearance, but the attraction was not mutual. The sea-
110 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
man, who was tolerably affable with the other passengers, was
silent and gloomy whenever Barston was near. Sometimes he
affected not to hear wheii the latter addressed him, and he always
spoke in monosyllables when obliged to answer. It was a remark-
able example of instinctive repugnance with no visible cause.
Swiss was puzzled. He had never encountered such unmistakable
dislike before. Once there was a sudden squalT, common enough
in those seas, and in the confusion attendant upon an unexpected
order to shorten sail, the mate clambered up the mizzen shrouds in
his zeal to aid the sailors, and was dashed down by a blow of the
flapping sail. Barston, who was holding himself erect by the
leeward rigging, foresaw the catastrophe, and starting forward
caught the mate as he fell and drew him under the bulwark, pretty
much as an elephant would pull down a bullock. Butler started
from his encircling arm with a muttered curse, darted up the lad-
der again, and fairly secured the sail by skill, strength and pluck
combined. But for Barston's interposition he would have been
swept over the bulwarks and lost beyond a doubt. Instead of
softening in his manner, however, the mate was more repellent
than before.
Swiss had a habit of ^^ not giving up things,'^ as he himself ex-
pressed it, and he pursued the sailor with his friendship through-
out the long voyage. To an onlooker the contest was very amus-
ing. Barston, quietly persisting in polite inquiries as to the mate's
health, the ship's progress, the portents of the heavens and the
like. Butler, with sleepless vigilance watching tJie xossible drift
of each question, and answering with the fewest words possible,
and finally wriggling out of the conversation by some pretext con-
nected with his official duties.
" I thought you were a Yankee, Mr. Butler," said Swiss one day,
catching the mate when engaged in securing a boat at the davits.
He could not quit the job until completed, and Barston pursued
his advantage.
" Did you f '^ replied Butler.
"Yes. But I discovered my error when I heard you speak.
There are certain intonations that are not indigenous out of Eng-
land. You are not only English but Devonshire."
Butler glanced at him half in terror and half in anger, but made
no reply.
" I have given some attention to this matter of dialects," contin-
ued Swiss, meditatively. "If I had time I half fancy that I could
ONE YEAR LATER. MR. BUTLER. Ill
fix a man's birthplace very accurately by his speech alone. ITow
Captain Hardy is undoubtedly Yorkshire. Mr. Moody, the first
mate, is as certainly Lancashire. Beautiful Devon has a lingo of
its- own.''
" I see no difference," muttered the sailor.
"Ah! that is because you have not given the matter your at-
tention. Devon is the garden of the earth. Perhaps climatic in-
fluences may affect the voice, as they certainly affect the physical
organism, and it may be true that the delicious air of Devon
softens the intonations. I don't know any of your name there,
but I would wager that you were born not far from Lavington."
"Here, Tom," said the mate desperately, "splice this infernal
ratlin, 1 must go to the maintop." A sailor relieved Mr. Butler,
who was at the masthead a minute later.
" This chap puzzles me enormously," said Mr. Swiss, lighting a
cigar and walking aft ; " there is something about him that seems
to recall old memories, and now I am convinced that I have some-
where and sometime encountered him or some of his breed. I
wonder if I ever harmed him or his If I have a great mind to ask
him. But I must not be hasty. My little encounters with Mr.
Butler relieve the monotony of this tiresome voyage amazingly.
I shall tackle him systematically every day, until I find out why
he recoils from me so decidedly."
Mr. Barston's benevolent intentions were frustrated very unex-
pectedly the next day. He found the mate standing near the
wheelhouse, and, putting on his customary innocent expression, he
asked him if he knew the coast near Exeter.
" Mr. Barston," replied the sailor coldly, " all reference to my
birthplace pains me. I have avoided you because I knew you
were from Devon. You said vou took me for a Yankee. But no
Yankee that I have ever met can match you in curiosity !"
" I sincerely beg your pardon," answered Swiss penitently ;
"what you say is true. I have annoyed you, I know, though I
meant no unkindness. Pray forgive me, and I will trouble you
no more. There is the hand of an English gentleman I Take it,
man, and let us be friends !"
" And strangers," answered the other, grasping his hand.
"As you will," replied Barston. "I am ashamed of myself for
troubling you, and apologize honestly for the past, which was,
after all, only a clumsy proffer of Mendship. Say that you will
fbrget it.^
112 THE LACY DIAMONDS,
" Ay, ay \^ said Butler, composedly. I harbour no malice. TcC
caught me the other day when I was goiug to Davy Jones I
think you made a mistake 1"
" !N'ow," said Swiss, as the mate left him, " here is anothe
problem for me to work out, and it's a stinger I The rascal has
tied mo up hand and foot, and I cannot investigate him withou'
denying my very nature. There was something thoroughbred ii
the way he called me a Yankee I I have a presentiment that Mr.
Butler will be a whetstone for my wits for some time to come
What am I to do f I will die before I give up the task of finding
the key to this mystery ; and I will die before I tackle him again,
either secretly or openly ! I must wait the developments of Pro
vidence, and watch !"
When Mr. Barston stepped ashore at Liverpool the problem
was still unsolved. It is quite probable that he rather enjoyed
his perplexity, and promised himself pleasant occupation in the
future while he accumulated facts and recalled memories. " Ij
I can only get enough conditions the equation will be easy,'' h(
thought. The next day he was in London and in consultatioi
with Mr. Parchment about the investment of his Calcutta money
and the next found him gliding over the rails towards Lavington.
The train arrived in the night and Swiss went to the inn. He
had not announced his arrival in England, and no one expected
him. A sleepy waiter showed him his chamber and asked foi
orders for the morrow's breakfast.
" Is Mr. Harwood at the rectory f asked Swiss.
" Yes, sir."
" Well, I shall breakfast with him."
" Shall I call you, sir f
" No ; I always waken at the right time. Good night I"
Poor Swiss was the victim of memories. It was just a yeai
since lie sailed for India. During the voyage, and during his
residence in Calcutta, his mind was occupied with new interests.
But now he fell back upon the life he had left in Devonshire.
There had been some changes whose reports reached him in the
east. Eet Harwood was Lady Lacy, that was the first Jack's
wife. This is the short sentence he had been repeating three hun-
dred days and nights, like a school boy. Each time he said it
with new emphasis, and it always hurt. It was a hard lesson, but
he had it now pat Jack's wife. Ho wondered if Jack appreciated
the fact, and he said "of course I" and then he knew he wag
BAD NEWS. 113
lying. He tried to think of Lord and Lady Morton, of Allen and
Parson Johnny, but he came back to the old lesson, " Jack's
wife," and then he suddenly remembered the Proseuche I
*'Ah!" said he, turning wearily on his side, "to-morrow, if
Boland is alive and well, I shall visit Eipple Farm. It is curd
time, too P
Willis died soon after he left last year. There was Kitty to
look after. He would go there to-morrow on his way to break-
fast. Kitty first that was duty. Breakfast next that was neces-
sity. Finally, Proseuche that was strength. And so he fell
asleep.
He was wakened by the roar of a train coming into the station,
and found the sun looking into his window. While he dressed he
heard the 'bus drive up to the inn door, and the clatter of luggage,
and the voices of porters and passengers. He thought he recog-
nized a voice, but was not certain, and could not see from his win-
dow any of the talkers. When he went down the new comers
were lounging lazily in the coft'ee room, but were all strangers.
He paid for his lodging, and leaving directions to send his lug-
gage to the rectory, he marched out on the path of duty. A short
walk brought him to the trim little cottage where Willis had
lived. He knocked once and again, the door being ajar, and at
last, no one appearing, he pushed it open and entered the sitting
room. Kitty was there, looking very pretty in her black dress,
and her beauty probably somewhat heightened by her blushing
face and beaming eyes, as she extricated herself from the encirc-
ling arms of Mr. Butler !
CHAPTER XVIII.
Bad IN^EWS.
" npAESOK JOHNNY," said Swiss as he sipped his coffee,
-L " this Mocha is good. I have brought you a bale, how-
ever, that has been highly praised. I invested a lot of tin for it
in requital of your teachableness. Do you remember how long it
took me to make you give up those poisonous Chinese weeds and
take to the fragrant beny ?"
" I have not given up tea, Swiss. I always drink it at the Red
HalL By the bye, you have not asked for Ret. She has a little
8
114 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
daughter. There goes another cup! Sally broke one yesterday.
How did you drop it F
" The coffee was hot, Johnny, and that is mendacious ! I was
so startled by your news that I dropped the cup. Bet's baby !
By the three kings of Cologne ! I adopt the child this minute !"
This was the extent of Mr. Barston's profanity. " How old is the
child, and is she like her mother V
" One question at a time, Swiss. How old I Let me see, this
is the eighteenth. The prodigy is three we^ks old. Besemblance?
Well, I have not studied her features very carefully, but I think
they look like a small lump of pink putty.''
"What an old heathen you are! But no matter. Give me
another cup of coffee. Here, make it in the ^gg cup, as you are so
stingy about your china. Why don't you get married, Parson,
and live decently ? It is not canonical for a man to be moping
over broken cups and saucers !"
"Why don't you get married yourself, Swiss f retorted the
rector. He looked anxiously at his friend's face as he spoke.
"ITow that is a very sensible question," replied Barston,
thoughtfully. " I will give the matter very serious consideration.
I brought a hundred thousand with me from India. I must either
marry or give some of it away. It is too much for a bachelor.
By the bye, perhaps I can set up a couple I encountered this
morning. Kitty Willis and "
"Kitty Willis!*' said the rector, "that must be a mistake,
Swiss. Sbe has no masculine friends."
" Ah, but she has. The gentleman came from Australia with
me. His name is Butler. I saw him hugging Kitty in her own
house. Do you happen to know any Butlers in this vicinity ?"
" Yes, two or three. Father always brings old Saunders down
here with him. Mr. DeVere has a very stylish butler, who looks
positively gorgeous on state occasions. I dined there recently,
and was struck with his manly beauty. Such legs, Swiss ! Then
Mr. Bottomry, who made such a lot of money on cotton, has a gor-
geous butler, that he took with the property when he bought Den-
ham's estate. None of these know Kitty ^"
" What rubbish you are talking. Parson ! ISTow listen to some
sensible observations. This Butler joined oui'ship at Port Philip.
I heard him talk, and discovered by his accent, first, that he was
Devonshire, and second, that he was Lavington ^"
"You are talking rubbish now, Barston; Lavington has no
itlioms."
BAD NEWS. 115
*^ Indeed P' replied Barston. "Well, I certainly had no intima-
tion of his birthplace, yet I pronounced him Lavington out at sea,
aa-d he acknowledged that I was right. You need not laugh.
There is a certain sound in words ending in E peculiar to Laving-
ton,'?
** For example !" said Mr. Harwood.
^* Contour, uproar, far, spar, bar, tar-^^'^
** Very good, Swiss. I notice that you twist your tongue half a
dozen times round the terminal letter but who elsef
"Why, Jack Lacy."
" Well, any others P
"Yes; mother always did.'^
" Any other F
Yes ; Mr. Butler.'?
"Who finishes your catalogue. ISTow, Swiss, FU give you a
ittle solid learning. That unfortunate twist in your tongue was
^^^oiheJtited jfrom the Countess De Lys, the ancestress of yourself,
our mother, and Jack. It is merely a Gallic shibboleth. Mr.
utler probably was similarly unfortunate in having a French
ncestor. You never heard me, or Allen, or Father, or Eet talk in
at absurd fashion."
" No,?? answered Barston dryly, " you are all new comers. You
ave brought with you the lazy drawl of Essex. I don't remem-
er just at this moment any other examples, but no doubt there
plenty within reach. I wish you would look after that Butler
httle. I have an uncomfortable presentiment whenever I think
f him. I don't know any harm of him, however. Ho is a good
^^ailor, a glum sort of fellow, but sober, self-contained and silent.
*Lrhere seems to be large capacity for evil in him.''
"Come back to the mutton, Swiss. Your own matrimonial
T!^lans are more interesting to me. ITow, I will venture ^"
" Look you, Johnny, I will answer you once for all, seriously
nd positively. The woman does not live whom I can ask to
::inarry me I You need not look shocked. Just rest content with
^this assurance. I were a wretch to think of it !" And he strode
~ ^ver the rector's carpet with the tread of a giant, his smooth brow
and placid eyes openly contradicting his dilated nostrils and quiv-
ering lips. " Some day I will perhaps tell you a story. Parson.
If I ever tell it you shall be my auditor. I have never whispered
a syllable of it to any man excepting One, whose human sym-
pathy and whose divine compassion are botb. eiig^%^^ \\i ^h^I
'. t.
116 THE LACY DIAMONDS,
behalf. And I am sure I should have gone mad long ago if He
had not heard and helped.''
The rector rose, and putting his arm round the burly waist of
his friend, walked silently by his side. Presently they stopped
by a book-case, and the rector produced some cigars. As they
lighted them he touched the bell and a servant entered and
removed the breakfast remnants. Then they drew their chairs to
the window, and throwing open the sash they filled the outer ak
with their fumigations.
^ Swiss, my dear brother," said the rector tenderly, ^'I am
about to lighten your sorrows by telling you something ^
Barston started, and looked upon him with dilated eyes.
" I know how to make you forget your troubles," continued Mr.
Harwood ; " it is only to excite your sympathy. Know, then, that
I also am greatly afifticted."
Swiss studied his distressed countenance with great concern
but made no reply.
" What I tell you, Swiss, I have gathered in fragments, by ob-
servation and inference. I have not spoken to any one about
either "
" What do you mean by * either f" said Barston.
" Either trouble, for I have two. The first is not entirely per-
sonal. It relates to Eet, however "
" Don't torture me with your horrible rigmarole. Say what yoa
have to tell."
" I hardly know how. Jack is going astray and is fast break-
ing Bet's heart. I don't know what he is doing. I have only been
able to detect restraint and anxiety, but have not dared to ask
any questions. Perhaps I overrate the trouble, but I know that
my sister is unhappy and that her husband neglects her cruelly."
" How long has this been the case?" said Barston.
" Always. They went to the continent for the honeymoon.
The restraint and anxiety were visible to me when they returned.
I sometimes think my Mother suspects it, but am not sure. Eet
does not dissemble, but she makes no sign. My inference is that
Jack gambles. He is in a bad set. Callahan is at Exeter with
his regiment, and he and a lot of his fellows are at DeYere's every
week, and Sir John always meets them there. They play every
night, and for high stakes, I fear. Old Mr. Bottomry, who has the
reputation of lending money upon good security, asked me some
questions touching the value of the Bed Hall and lands only a
COLONEL SIR JOHN LACY. 117
"iveek ago. I don't believe he would have made the inquiries
^thout aa object, and I suppose Jack is trying to borrow money
ifrom him. I was at the Hall yesterday and learned not from
Eet but from Mother that Sir John had been absent a week.
One would think that nothing short of urgent business would take
him away at such a time. Eet is very much engrossed with her
baby, and did not appear distressed ; but, Swiss, that marriage
has proved a failure. Alas I it is a horribfo failure !" and the rec-
tor covered his face with his hands and groaned aloud.
" Johnny," said Barston steadily, *' it may not be so bad as you
think. It may be that God has brought me home in time. You
were right about my sorrows ; they are all gone. And now I have
positive, clearly defined work before mo, which I hope to perform.''
" What is your purpose, Swiss f
"To restore Jack's honeymoon! I want wisdom and grace.
Oh ! Johnny, I am sorely distressed I I see, better than you can,
how Jack has been misled led captive by the devil of play. It
is the outbreaking of an old leprosy. I got him away from Baden
last year almost by violence. He is the most desperate gamblej
I have ever seen or read about. And you, dear Mend, have beed
brooding over this all this time. Why have you not consulted
Lord Morton !"
" Ah, Barston, how could I distress my Father ^"
" It would have been better and wiser ; but now let us keep this
miserable secret between us. If I cannot restore Jack to paths of
rectitude no one else can. Heigho ! Out of the depths have I
cried unto thee, O Lord I Heavenly wisdom is the prerequisite
here. If any man lack wisdom, let him ask of God, who giveth
Uberally. That is a faulty traiislation, Parson ; it is not ^ liberally,'
it is far more. The word is * simply 5' that is, God giveth simply
as if all His perfections culminated in His character of the Giver.
What blind moles men are to yield to despair ! Courage, Johnny I
I have a Proseucho I"
OHAPTEE XIX.
Colonel Sir John Lacy.
\\r HILB the two friends were discussing the matters recorded
V V in the preceding chapter. Sir John Lacy was rapidly riding
towards the Eed Hall. He had spent the previous night at Mr,
DeVere's with two or three officers from Exeter. T!\i^ txslxsiqvsx^ ^I
118 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
heavy play were founded on fact, and Lacy had lost large sums,
and his friends had given him very significant hints of their desire
for settlements. At the time of his marriage Lord Morton, who
had been his guardian, announced his intention of paying the
mortgage upon the Lacy estate ; but the solicitor who represented
the holder of this claim had declared it satisfied, asserting that
some transactions between him and Sir Elbert Lacy were still un-
settled, and enough money remained in his hands to free the Red
Hall from encumbrance. Mr. Parchment was very much dissatis-
fied with the report he received, but he could extort nothing
from his brother solicitor beyond the bare acknowledgment that
the mortgage was paid. The ten thousand pounds which had
been devoted to this object Lord Morton then settled upon his
daag:hter. It was all gone before the haj^py pair returned from
the Continent, and poor Ret came home disenchanted. Her ex-
postulations seemed to cause her husband such exquisite pain that
she shrank from their repetition until the last of the money was
gone. He was repentant and full of plans of reformation, when
they were fairly settled at the Red Hall, until he met his old
associates, Callahan and others, a few months before Barston's
return. ,
The rector was right in his surmise about the mortgage. Mr.
Bottomry had a lien upon the Red Hall equal to the amount Bar-
ston had secretly paid, and it was Sir John's application for an
additional loan that had induced the old money lender's questions
to Mr. Harwood. f
The baronet had recently been elected colonel of a regiment of
volunteers. It was at the time when the formation of rifle regi-
ments was the popular amusement of Englishmen. There was a
review to come off to-morrow on the downs near Lavington, and
Sir John was going to the Red Hall for his uniform.
And something else.
This inveterate gambler had arrived at the point reached by all
fools who fall into that vortex. He thought he had learned how
to ?rm, and if he could only get a few thousands to start with
he could soon reclaim his losses. He had seen Mr. Bottomry
that morning, who declined making farther advances upon the
Red Hall unless " Lady Lacy's dower right were vacated.'' He
would lend upon other property, such as jewels, but the ten thous-
and he had already lent was the utmost extent he would go upon
Sir John's signature alone.
COLONEL SIR JOHN LAGT. 119
^^^ow^ thought the baronet, as he cantered over the turf, " if
I oan persuade Eet to sign the paper, or get her to lend me her
diamonds, I shall be all right again.''
Ee threw his bridle into the hand of his groom and entering
tine hall met Mrs. Froome the housekeeper. The old lady was
perpetually on the watch for dismal portents.
*^ How f^es my lady F said he.
^' Better, Sir John. She is sitting up in her chamber. Walk
'U.j, sir.
^^ Presently, Mrs. Froome. I came away so early that I have
li^d no breakfast. Can you send me a chop and a cup of tea F
*^ Certainly, Sir John. Where shall I serve F
** to the library, please. I want to look over some papers. Can
you \k my lady for the safe key F
"Yes, sir; but but hadn't you better step up yourself! It
"^vill take a few minutes to cook the chop, and mj- lady might
-fclxink ^"
" Oh, certainly. I have been away two days. Fll be down in
^^ few minutes, Mrs. Froomg^' and he went up the great stairs.
" Dear me !" muftereil Mrs. Froome ; " he said the identical
^^Vords : ' How uea my lady V When the Bed Lacy came in that
^^arful nigfat4hat was his question. I vow he looks like the pic-
'tvire, too I'' So saying she bustled off to the kitchen to order Sir
John's breakfEUst.
The pallid face of Lady Lacy flushed slightly as her husband
^titered the chamber. She was in a reclining chair near the open
"vv^ndow. Miss Tamworth was by her side, holding the sleeping
l^abe upon her lap.
*^ Goocl morning, Eet. Good morning. Miss Clare. I am glad
"to see you sitting up, my dear. Is that the heiress of Lacy!
"What a jolly little mite it is ! I had forgotten the review, Eet,
Which comes off to-morrow, you know. I wish you were well
Enough to drive over to the downs. Miss Tamworth, you can go.
Certainly.'^
" Not without Eet, Sir John. We shall have to wait for the next
time. Take this chair."
" No, thank you. I am going to get a chop in the library. I
left DeVere's before they were up, and the ride has given me a
famous appetite. My lady, lend me the safe key, please ; I want
to look over some law papers."
'' The key is in the jewel case. There it is, near the head of the
bed. It opens with a spring. You know ttie sfcCTe^^ V
120 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
"Oh, yes; open sesame! Comme ga I Here it is;'^ aud lie
held up the key. I will bring it back after breakfast. There is
Mrs. Froome's signal tinkle, tinkle ! The chop is ready and so
am I Ladies, au revoirl Miss Lacy,'' and he touched the cheek
of the infant timidly, " I wish I dared to take you in my arms.
What a jolly little pink mite it is!"
And stepping gingerly over the carpet, with the air of a man
who respected the sanctity of a sick room, the baronet withdrew.
After satisfying the cravings of his vigorous appetite, the young
husband and father set himself resolutely to the investigation of
his " law papers." These consisted of copies of mortgages and
various memoranda of indebtedness, with a statement of his
sources of revenue. With knitted brows Lacy pursued his un-
customary toil with figures and estimates, and finally put away
the documents with a sigh.
" If I could only get clear of that cursed mortgage to old Bot-
tomry, and wipe out the I. O. U. that Callahan and DeVere hold,
I should be passably comfortable." He muttered this as he walk-
ed restlessly to and fro, swinging the safe key on his finger. The
only place to look for lost property is in the hole it was lost in.
That stands to reason. Ecart^ ! The devil never invented the
equal of that game. But I think I have discovered the way to
win. And this shall be my last trial, by Heaven !"
He sat down and covered his face with his hands, as if to shut
out the light, and after some minutes he started up again; he was
greatly disturbed as he resumed his march and his self-commun-
ings.
" Here is the case. I must get back that money ! And I must
have Eet's diamonds to start with. They are worth twenty thous-
and pounds. I will borrow ten on them, and win back my lands
and money, and then replace them. I cannot discuss the matter
while Miss Tam worth is there ; and the case is lying waiting for
me. I touched it when I got the key. I can touch it again when
I put it back. After all, the jewels are mine by a double right.
They are the old Lacy heir-loom, and I am the legal owner of my
wife's personal property. And I am onl^' harrowing them. It
really looks like a change of luck already begun to have them
actually under my hand."
This was very cogent reasoning.
When he went back to his wife's chamber he found her nlone.
Her chair had been wheeled round away from the window and she
COLONEL SIR JOHN LACY. 121
seemed to be sleeping. He went noiselessly to the corner where
the iron box stood, and opening it replaced the key. The little
case was there, and seizing it with unsteady hand he allowed the
iron lid to fall into its place with a snap. The sound aroused Lady
Lacy, and thrusting the jewel case into his pocket he approached
her hastily.
" I have put the safe key back," he said, avoiding her eye.
" Have you !"
" Yes. I must go back to DeVere's to dinner. He has invited
a lot of fellows from Exeter all officers of the regiment and it
just suits me, as I can wear my uniform, you know. The review
comes off quite early ^
" Mother will be here this evening. I thought you would be
home to-night. She has promised to stay all the week."
" Well, I shall have the pleasure of dining with her to-morrow,
and every other evening. This is my last night away from home.
Dear Ret," he continued remorsefully, " you were out of luck when
you took so good-for-nothing a dog as I. What a poor selfish wretch
I have been! But I will do better hereafter." He stooped over
her and kissed her forehead. " This time I am tied up to these
fellows, but I shall be clear of all entanglements after to-night. I
must go before Lady Morton comes, 1 fear, as I have to see old
Bottomry on business. Will you make my excuses I"
" Yes, if you must go."
" I think I must. Here is Mrs. Froome. When you go down,
Mrs. Froome, please tell Burgess to put the military saddle and
holsters on Saladin. I must get my uniform. Good-bye, my lady,
until to-morrow."
" Good-bye ! Will you return early F
" I hope so. Yes, certainly." And so they parted.
An hour afterwards the handsome young soldier was cantering
gaily down the road, his long sabre hooked up to his belt. He had
met Lady Morton's carriage, and exchanged greetings with his
mother-in-law, giving her encouraging accounts of Bet's convales-
cence. " What a beautiful boy he is !" thought Lady Morton as the
caniage proceeded," if he were only more stable. Perhaps paternity
may sober him. I hope so for Bet's sake. People get along with-
out very excessive love now-a-days!" and she mused upon the
short, undemonstrative married life of her daughter until the car-
riage stopped at the grand entrance to the Bed Hall.
It was near the close of the afternoon when Sir John turned out
122 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
of the maiu road and rode down a shady lane. Mr. Bottomry'a
house was a mile or two off by thb lane. The baronet remem-
bered a short cut aeross the meadow, and selecting a low place
in the hedge he spurred his horse to the leap, and as he struck the
soft turf on the other side of the hedge he reined up Saladin to
avoid the shock, as another cavalier galloped up to the spot he had
just cleared.
OHAPTEE XX.
Swiss.
"tackp
^' Swiss!"
" Where are you going f Where are you fix)m F said both to-
gether, as they shook hands with great vigour.
*^ I am 80 glad to meet you, dear Jack," said Barston. " I have
been to the Eipple Farm, and came through by Bottomry's. Were
you going there!"
^' Yes," answered Sir John doubtfully. " What in the world
did you want of Bottomry! Surely you don't want to borrow
money !"
*^ No, indeed, I am rolling in wealth. I should like to see you
borrowing from anybody else than Lacy Barston. So! You were
on your way to this old rascal, were you ! What do you want
with money, Jack, and how much do you want !"
" Too much for you to lend me, Swiss," answered the baronet
gloomily.
^' That answers only one question. What is your present need !"
" Don't ask me, Swiss. Please let me go to Bottomry now. I
pledge you my honour that I will never go there again."
" You won't go this time either," answered Swiss, positively. "I
have just left Bottomry, and you are out of his debt. Hero! I
have bought your mortgage, Jack, and I would tear it up before
your eyes only there are certain legal formalities to observe.
Meantime, you owe me ten thousand pounds."
" Swiss !"
^' Where are you going, Jack !"
^ To De here's."
*^ Well, I called there this morning, too, and have an invitation
to dine and sleep there. If you go, I go."
SWISS. 123
^^ Oh, Swiss, I don't want you to go. Just give me this one
night I cannot tell you any lies. Those fellows have won so
huge a lot of tin from me that I am desperate. I was going to
borrow a little more fix)m Bottomry and then win back my losses."
^^ Poor Jack," answered Barston pitifully ; " why, you foolish boy,
.Vou can never win from Callahan and DeVere. If you had all of
bottomry's money they would have it before morning. I know
them thoroughly. They are UDprincipled sharxers, and if they
don't positively cheat, they at least have a way of winning that
is infallible. Did I ever deceive you, Jack F
*^ Never, Swiss."
** You can't win. Jack, because you are a gentleman. Those fel-
lo vvfi are not troubled with tlmt obstacle. They are blacklegs !"
^* Fie, Swiss I You should not say so."
^^ But I should. Jack, because it is true."
^^ You should not say so in their absence."
^^ I will repeat it. Jack, in their presence to-night if I go back
"^^itili you," answered his friend quietly.
* * You would have to fight them, Swiss."
* * Very likely. If any of their brother of&cers overheard my
^^voarks they could hardly avoid it."
** And then r
* ^ And then I would fight them with cavalry sabres and cut off
?iir fingers," replied Swiss coolly. " It would spoil their skill
ccart6. Don't you believe I could do it f You have seen me
'Xidle the implement. Here, hand me your sabre. So, Eoland !"
taking the weapon he rode up to the hedge. " See here. Jack,
^x*e are five buds, watch them !" Waving the bright blade above
head as it flashed in the sunlight, he went through the ordi-
'y exercise, counting at each stroke.
*^One, two, three, four, five! There are the buds on the turf.
liave the same wrist that I brought from the Crimea. Do you
^^x^Qember that poor Cossack that wounded Eoland f
** Yes, Swiss. He thrust his spear into Eoland's neck because
would not let him get at me, and then you laid his shoulder
^t^n."
^* Exactly I If he had been playing ecartd with you I should
^^Ve taken his fingers. Come, Jack, brother, come home!"
^* Impossible! My regiment parades to-morrow, and I have
P*Xmised DeVere to siend the night with him ^"
*^But I bear you his permission to spend it with me instead,"
124 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
answered Barston. " I told him I had just arrived from IndE"
and he could not deny me. I could not ask him about your deb
to him, Jack," he continued simply, " because that would ha\^===
been indecorous, and because I knew you would tell me. I wL
pay him. Come home !"
" Barston,'' said Lacy, with glistening eyes, " I cannot take thi-
money from you. You cannot humiliate me so, can you f DonV
you see how sorely you hurt me *?"
" Jack !" said Swiss, his loving eyes blazing " dear kinsman^
bethink you ! In all the world I have no kindred but you an9
your baby. When Parson Johnny told me of her birth I vowedJ
she should be my heiress. I have brought a hundred thousand,
pounds home with me. I left as much in England. Why should.
you not have it now I It is yours if you outlive me, and it is your
child's anyhow. To whom could I leave this useless money I and
how much more sensible and pleasant to share it with you now,
while none will know it but ourselves and God. Humiliate you,
my brother I Wliy, Jack, you put me to shame, because you com-
pel me to remind you that I have placed my life between you and
danger more than once. Do you think more of my money than of
my blood I Oh, Jack, you need not be told that I am ready to im-
peril life and fortune for you and yours, now and always."
" Swiss," said Lacy, " suppose our cases were reversed. If you
had been foolish and weak and had involved yourself in ruin ;
suppose I had two hundred thousand pounds, would you take
my charity and live in idleness and peace IP
Barston winced. His entire life had been one of sturdy inde-
I)endence. His slender patrimony had barely sufficed for his
simple wants until his eccentric kinsman had left him his fortune,
and yet no eloquence could persuade him to accept a penny from
the old Indian while he lived.
" Jack," he said, at last, " your question is unfair. I am so
constituted that I could not have fallen into similar circumstances.
For example: I could not play ecart6 at all. I couldn't bear to
keep the money if I won 5 it would scorch my fingers ! Again, I
could never have been deceived and cheated by such shallow
knaves as Callahan and DeVere. But, brother !" and here his
great eyes kindled again, " if you had inherited money, and I were
in need, surely I would take freely from you what you would freely
offer me 5 especially, if you had no mortal nearer than myself to
share with you."
SWISS, 126
** But you wUl many, Swiss ^
* ISTever ! my heart is in the grave !" replied Swiss passionately.
^* Oh, Jack ! my heart is hard as the nether millstone dead as a
"toix of door nails ! and if you deny me the brother's right to help
you, to live for you, to deliver you from the devil's clutches, as in
tliG present emergency, to restore you to your wife with the
lixixlen off your heart oh. Jack, do you not know that she is
^^vithering under the same burden ! if you deny me now, I swear
'^o ^-ou the blessed sun shines in vain for me I"
* ^ I am conquered, Swiss ! God helping me, I will nevermore
"^oxxch a card ! I will do precisely what you say, dear kinsman,
.e friend, loyal gentleman ! Shall I go directly home I You
not doubt me F
* ^ Doubt you, Jack ! Surely not. You may go to DeVere's if
like. I will trust you in the very jaws of the pit, now that I
-t^^Te your promise. Will you let me settle with those villains
^^^^ will you take some of your money to-morrow and do it your-
^^Xff
^' Better let me do it. I will ride back now. Where are you
dngf Won't you come with mo *?"
^' As far as Lavington. I must see Parson Johnny to-night,
hmorrow I want to see my heiress. Ha ! Eoland, over we go !
XDme on. Jack ! Saladin leaps like an antelope. Here, put up
mr sabre again. I forgot I had it."
" It looks very stupid, Swiss," said Sir John, " for me to be
"^^fiing over the country in all this finery."
" Behold !" answered Barston, " the orb of day is sinking be-
^tiind the western hills. An hour hence he will be hidden beneath
^lie tossing waves, and then we will ride on in darkness and
^our finery will be invisible. By the time the moon appears you
'^Vill be within striking distance of the Eed Hall, and when her
light appears above the tree-tops of the Dark Wood you will be
filing your wife's heart with joy in telling her of your late re-
J^olve.'^
" And of my brother's faithful love ^
* [N^one of that nonsense. Jack. Just tell her that you have re-
flected and decided to do right. Don't bother her about your
pecuniary affairs. Women don't know anything about such
matters ; and besides, she might tell Lord Morton, and make all
sorts of mischief. I think you and I can arrange everything. You
tnow my father was your guardian, and no doubt he owed you a
lot of money . What are you laughing at V
126 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
" It sounds so funny to hear you lying, Swiss !"
" You're another P said Barston. " Here's my road and there
is yours. Oh, Jack ! if I could only tell you how happy you have
made me. The last vestige of pure emotion that is left me is my
love for you ! Good night I God bless you, old Jack P
" Good night I God bless you, old Swiss I'^
OHAPTEE XXI.
The Power of Pbayeb.
'^ TDAESON JOHNI^," said Swiss, pushing his chair back
JL from the table, " this business of feeding three or four
times a day is altogether unworthy of intellectual beings.'^
" It depends a little upon physiological science, Swiss," answered
the rector. " If the brain is the thinking part of your organism,
the doctors say it requires supplies of phosphorus, which you get
from food."
" Very well. I accept the explanation. I wonder if there is
any phosphorus in curds I The old lady had two to-day, and I
am afraid I ate both of them."
" Where did you find Jack ?"
" In Bottomry's meadow 5 I went first to my Proseuche ^"
" What in the world do you mean, Swiss ?"
^' Don't you know ! Well, Paul found Lydia at one of those
places ' where prayer was wont to be made 'that is, ' ProseueJie.^
Some of the patriarchs had them. Jacob had several; Bethel
was one. Samuel had one, where he reared the great pillar,
Ebenezer. Ko doubt Paul had one ^"
*^ You mean Saint Paul, I presume," put in the rector.
" Yes. I also mean sinner Paul. He bore both titles. Concern,
ing his saintship, he says he is less than the least of all saints.
Concerning the sinnership, he says he is the chief of sinners. I
opine that the Proseuche was more precious in view of the
latter."
"Go on with your story. I cannot stop to argue with you
now."
" I suppose not. I went to the curds next. Then to DeYere's.
I found Callahan there, and found that Jack had been there some
days. I also learned that he had gone home for his uniform, and
THE FOWEB OF PRATER, 127
that lie had some business with Bottomry. So 1 went there. I,
also, had a little business with Bottomry, which I despatched.
Jack not arriving, I concluded to meet him en routCj and taking a
short cut across a meadow, I found Sir John leaping the hedge
just as I was putting Eoland at it.''
" Go on, Swiss," said Mr. Harwood, with kindling eyes.
*' There is not much more to say, Johnny. He was overjoyed
to see me, and very soon told me all his story. He thought he
was terribly involved, and was eonsequently somewhat cut up.
But the poor boy never did know much about figures. Confiden-
tially, parson, those rascals have been cheating Jack's eyes out
of his head, but with careful management he will come out all
right. When we compared notes he found out he was better off
by ten thousand pounds than he thought !"
" Indeed ! The notes you compared were bank notes '^
" Your wit is positively stunning, parson. What I say is that
Jack owed ten thousand pounds less than he thought when I met
him. The little he owes those blackguards I'll lend him, and he
has done with cards forever."
" Are you sure, Barston F
" Yes, positively certain. I trust his promise, and while he lives
I shall never leave him again. Yesterday I projected a trip to the
Arctic circle. I wished to verify some isothermal charts. To-day
I trample upon all the demands of science and devote myself to
Ja^k. He is safer under tutelage, and he will allow no one to
bully him except old Swiss."
" You have never seen him since his marriage until to-day," said
the rector. " I remember that you sailed as soon as the prelimi-
naries were arranged. Jack has your room furnished at the Red
Hall. It is the great room Sir Eanald's."
Barston's pleasant face clouded. A troop of thoughts galloped
through his mind, all of them painful. He tried to think of Eet
and her child as rejoicing in Jack's peaceful life, but he could not.
Something oppressed him, and he longed for some secret place
where he might hide himself and groan, and as he glanced out at
the pure moonlight he actually thought of getting his horse again
and seeking his " munition of locks."
" Parson," he said suddenly, " you know Episcopal preaching
usually consists of moral essays twenty minutes long. Suppose
you vary the performance and give your flock something didac-
tic P
128 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
**Wliat can you suggest, Swiss P replied the rector, good-
humouredly.
" The potency of prayer. Let us discuss it a little and you can
write a sermon in an hour. There are only two or three points.^'
" With all my heart. I should like to have you for my curate,
Swiss. Begin I"
" First, then, the condition of the creature, when normal, is de-
pendence upon the Creator. Elaborate that You will find some
good hints in John Owen on the one hundred and thirtieth
Psalm, if you don't mind stealing some old thunder. You vnYL be
pretty safe, as no man among your auditors will detect the theft
unless I am there.''
" That is very good, my reverend friend. So much for the duty.
Now for the encouragement."
" It is not so easy. If you make your argument upon bare
revelation there is no difficulty. There are multitudes of texts
containing the promise of success. I need not quote them to you.
But there is a little book, by Godwin, called ^The Eeturn of
Prayers,' which has some wonderfully clear arguments set forth
in quaint style. This, also, is a safe place from which to steal
ideas, as the book is not at all popular."
" I have the book and have read it with great pleasure and
profit. John Owen , also. It is quite likely that I have already used
them both without quotation marks. But you have not suggested
what I am waiting for. I want some distinct line of argument
that will meet the current unbelief of humanity. Men repeat
prayers, day by day, with some vague apprehension of the duty,
and still more vague expectation of profit. How can I argue to
make this expectation distinct and positive ?"
Barston rested his head on his hand and mused. The rector^s
question was a hard one, and the ready answers that came into
his mind were not arranged in order for didactic discourse.
" Let us light our cigars. Parson, and walk out in the moon-
light," he said at length. " Perhaps I can shake my ideas into
shape as we walk."
" With all my heart," answered the rector. " We will walk the
entire length of the street, and then our cigars will have van-
ished. As we return we will stop and see Kitty Willis. I should
like to ask her some friendly questions about this new arrival
what do you call him Mr. Butler?"
Miss Kitty answered their knock in person. They found an
THE POWER OF PRAYER. 120
old dame in the little parlour, who, Barston learned afterwards,
iad been living with Kitty since her father's death. Kitty was
an expert sempstress, demure and diligent, and she resumed her
work, blushing a little at the remembrance of her morning inter-
view with Mr. Barston ; but she was so perfectly composed that
the rector found it diflftcult to ask her his '^ friendly'^ questions.
" Mr. Barston tells me," he said, after the ordinary greetings
had been exchanged, " that his vessel brought a friend of yours
from Australia a Mr. Butler P
" Yes, sir,'' replied Kitty.
" Have you known him long F continued Mr, Harwood.
" Fourteen years, sir."
'^ Is he a native of Devonshire F
"Yes, sir."
" Do you know any of his kindred ! The name is new to me in
this locality."
" I have not lived here very long, sir. You know my father
came only a year before he died. I did not become acquainted
with Mr. Butler in Devon."
" Has he not spoken of his family to you ?" persisted the rector.
" Not much, sir. I believe he is not on good terms with his re-
lations. I met him first in Yorkshire fourteen years ago, when
we were both children. He afterwards went to sea, and has not
been in England since, until to-day. There are some reasons why
reference to his English life is disagreeable to him, and I have
not felt at liberty to distress him only to gratify an idle curios-
ity." All this was said very steadily, and the rector was rather
discomfited. Swiss thought he would like to be somewhere else,
but he came to Mr. Harwood's assistance.
" It is something more than idle curiosity, Miss Willis," he said
gravely, " that prompts Mr. Harwood's questions. He is much
interested in your welfare, and as the rector of the parish, it is his
duty to watch over you. You may also remember that your
father requested me to shield you from harm if any threatened
you. The obligation is binding upon me. I do not assume such
responsibilities lightly, nor do I relinquish such charges without
good reason. If you cannot satisfy us about the moral character
of Mr. Butler, we are both bound to seek information from other
sources. You are inexperienced, and may be misled by your
feelings. We need not tell you that we have no motive in our
interference but your good."
9
180 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
" You and the rector are both very kind, sir,'' answered the
girl, " but you may rely upon my discretion in this instance. It
may be that Mr. Butler will volunteer to satisfy one or both of
you in due time. It would not be proper for me to suggest this
to him. You and Mr. Harwood will decide for yourselves whether
or not you are called upon to investigate him." This was said
with so much composure that her visitors felt that their work was
done for the evening. They accordingly bade her good night and
retired.
" It appears to me, Swiss," said the rector, when they were
again in the street, ^' that Miss Kitty rather got the better of you
in that discussion. You looked very crestfallen as you left her."
" Sympathy, my dear Parson," answered Barston. " If you are
so easily daunted by a woman's sharp tongue in all your pastoral
visits, I pity you."
" I don't think I ever encountered one like Kitty's. She is the
pluckiest girl in the village. What in the world did you take me*^
there for f
" I believe you mean ^ what in the something else,' only you
don't like to express your real sentiments. I did not take you.
You took me."
"But it was some suggestion of yours about this Butler that,
got me into the mess. What is amiss in the man !"
" I cannot tell," replied Swiss, thoughtfully. ^' My instinct,
which I dare not distrust and cannot contradict, bids me beware
of this Butler. I am attracted to him, interested in him, and at
the same time repelled. I am not at all sure, however, that Kitty
is not a Ml match for him. What a tigress she is! It is a curious
fact that she exerts the same double influence upon me ^half at-
tractive, half repulsive. Her cold self-possession is* a perpetual
challenge !"
"I suppose I may as well tell you, Swiss, that I have caught
you in a fraud. All that matter you were trying to get out about
the power of prayer I read in print. It was published in the
Christian Visitor about a year ago. I remember it was signed
* Proseuche.' Now, you read the thing there, and have imbibed
the sentiments, and have tried, in your blundering way, to put
them forth as your original thinking,"
" Was it a good paper. Parson *?"
" Very. Far better than your dilution of it."
" Well, Parson," said Swiss coolly, " some of these days your
sharpness will be the death of you. I wrote that paper !"
^ A LETTER. 131
** Did yoa, old Swiss !" replied his friend, squeezing his arm.
" Tou don't know how much comfort you have given me ! I al-
most kn^w it by heart. My poor Swiss ! you must have passed
through deep waters to have thought out that article I But you
have made me so confident that I almost think I can get what-
ever I ask for ^
" So you can, Johnny, with certain limitations. I got Jack to-
day because I prayed first. He was going to destruction ; and.
when I left him ho was on the high road to prosperity and peace.
If we don't get the exact form of the thing we pray for, we get
mors and better. Hero is the station, and the London train will
start in five minutes and will take me. I must see old Parchment
ttf morrow. M"o use to expostulate, my boy. I have to go. I stole
four of your cigars, so I am supplied with all necessaries. There
. is the bell, by the three kings ! Good night. Parson."
j The rector watched the train until it was lost to view behind
the hills, and then slowly returned to the parsonage. At the
door, a groom holding a horse accosted him with startling in-
telligence. *
. " Oh, Mr. Harwood, please mount Saladin and ride at once to
the Hall ! Sir John has been thrown, and I am a&aid he is dead.
I have sent the doctor, and Jennings went to the Priory for Lord
Morton. ^ Bide fast, sir, please!"
%
OHAPTEE XXII;
A Letter.
London, SUt August^ 18.
^^nv yTT Dear .Johnny: How can I go to Devon! I cannot.
JAlL There is no possible occupation for me there. It seems
like a year since Jack died, and it has only been two weeks ! I
dare not go back. Indeed, I am not at liberty to go. Do you re-
member Spencer at Oxford? He has been on two exploring
expeditions, and to-morrow starts on the third. His destina-
tion is the Antarctic circle, and I have enrolled myself among
his crew. He said Providence had certainly sent me to him, as
he lacked a man with my smattering of scientific knowledge.^
132 THE LACY DIAMONDS,
my smattering of medical lore, and my invincible physique. Oh,
Johnny ! it is true that Providence sent Spencer to me, for T
should have gone mad under the terrible shock, if this long
voyage and its duties had not been presented. I long to get
away from the earth, and this comes nearest to it. It is the
wildest goose-chase that any poor lunatic ever projected. Yet
Spencer is so fiill of it, so sanguine, so determined, that I have
caught the frenzy. When this reaches you I shall be on blue
water.
'^Parchment has my will. I have made you my executor,
Johnny. If you have to assume the duties of the ofl&ce, dear
friend, before another summer comes and goes, will you not be-
lieve that I have found rest! Ah, what a full answer that would
be to all my prayers since they began at my mother's knee !
" I ought to say something to you for you to repeat to Lady
Lacy. I was with Jack last. The substance of our conversation
I told you that fatal night. But she will probably wish to know
every word he spoke. Alas ! I cannot recall anything. I only
remember his beautiful face, full of affection, when we parted ;
and I think I may say his mind was free from trouble, as he and
I had fully arranged matters before we separated. All the future
looked bright to him, poor boy !
'^ But there is one thing I may say to you, and to Lady Lacy
through you. I have been denying it to myself for three or
four years, yet I knew all the time that it was true. Jack had
organic disease of the heart. In the year or two I spent in the
hospitals I gave my special attention to this class of diseases, the
more because there are other ailments that simulate the symptoms.
But there are certain infallible signs, and Jack exhibited them. I
stated his peculiar symptoms to Doctor Holly, who pronounced
them fatal without hesitation. Knowing this I have been some-
what prepared for the shock of his sudden death, and should now
be comparatively calm in the midst of my sorrow were it not for
^n awful conflict of thoughts, purposes, memories and regrets that
overwhelms me, and which is as appalling as indescribable. If I
live a few years I hope to unfold them all to you, but now my
only refuge from madness is the salt spray of old ocean.
" I have mentioned the fact of Jack's disease for two purposes.
First, he has been in the jaws of death from his boyhood, and you
and I have always been on the verge of the present distress. The
circumstances might have been infinitely worse. Suppose he had
A LETTER. 133
died before I met him? Sappose the excitement of his late
engagements with DeVere and Callahan had been too much for
liim, and he had died in the midst of ecart^ ! Second, it is very
probable that he died and then fell from his horse. You tell^me
there was no scar or bruise upon him. 1 believe this must have
been the case, for he was a thorough horseman, and was certainly
not thrown. I have seen him in a cavalry charge shake his feet
clear of the stirrups and stick to his horse as if he were part of
bim, while the mad brute was dashing frantically over a field
flashing with a thousand sabres. He could not have been thrown.
It is true that Saladin may have fallen with him, but there would
have been some bruise or scar to betoken it if he had. It is possible
that Saladin may have fallen in his frightened gallop to the Hall.
There is a wide ditch between the stables and the Dark Wood,
I remember, and this may account for the earth stains on his
saddle.
" Make such use of these suggestions, in your talks with Lady
Lacy, as your own excellent sense will indicate to be best.
" I must say a word about Butler, and I desire to write with
great caution here, because I have nothing but my instinct to
plead as a reason for my profound distrust of the fellow. I know
absolutely nothing of his previous history. You heard Kitty tell
of her earlier acquaintance, and she told very little. And now
hear and heed 1 By some sort of intuition I seem to know that this
man's life has been marred. There is some hideous episode in his
history that will stain it evermore. He is silent, watchful, sus-
picious, resolute, passionate. Once and again I have been im-
pressed with the conviction that he is of gentle breeding. At sea
I have watched him in perilous circumstances, and he has always
been prompt, cool and efficient. If I were engaged in a desperate
venture, where pluck, endurance and cool ferocity would win, I
should feel safe with Butler at my side. I would not hesitate to
entrust uncounted, money to his honesty, and if he were my
enemy I should dread no blow in the dark. He is not that sort
of a man. Yet 1 should feel assured that a conflict was inevita-
ble, and that it would be h Voutrance when it came. Sometimes,
and indeed most times, I find that I rather pity than dislike him,
yet I always recoil from him and the thought of him with inex-
plicable horror. There mmt be some reason for this! Watch
him, Johnny, for Kitty's sake. Do him no injustice because of
my vague distrust, and, on the other hand, suffer him to do no
184 THE LACT DIAMONDS.
wrong by disregarding my warning. He bias plenty of money.
When he came aboard he was from the gold diggings, and he
had been very successful. The captain told me that Butler had
givep a large bag of gold dust into his charge when he joined the
ship.
"Another word about Kitty. She is handsome and good, I
believe. But this new-comer must be an accepted lover. I saw
him with his arm around her waist while she rested ber head on
his breast. She is not the sort of woman to assume such a posi-
tion unless matters were pretty well settled betwixt them. She
is wonderfully self-reliant, and will baffle you if you are not cau-
tious and persistent. But don't let that fellow get her until you
know more about Uim.
"And now, my dear Harwood, I have purposely left to the last my
answer to your remark anent our last conversation. I have thought
two or three times since I began this letter that I would leave
that portion of yours unanswered. And then I thought I would
content myself with general reflections, without noticing the argur
mentum ad hominem. But this would be disingenuous, so away
with it! I will endeavour to give you my exact thoughts, albeit
they are beclouded and somewhat erratic.
"First, then, I hold to my original proposition. Man must
needs pray always. When he does not he contradicts a primal
attribute of his nature. Second, this being normal, and enstamped
by the Creator, it is one of !N"ature's forces, as potent and as real
as centripetal attraction. There may be other and counteracting
forces, but these must needs be abnormal, and the consequences
of the fall, and, therefore, transient. You know the late discus-
sion touching the viscous flow of the mSr de glace in the frozen
north. It is well established that the ice tield continuously moves
toward the sea, and is constantly giving off the icebergs, and
constantly being renewed from Nature's grand laboratory in those
stern solitudes. My friend, the operation of this invisible force
' illustrates the operation of the prayer power. It belongs to the
relation subsisting betwixt Creator and intelligent creature. Now,
advancing a step, consider how the higher relation of father and
child augments the strength of the argument and the vehemence
of the force 1 One step more brings you to the relations growing
out of the covenant, ordered and surel And thus you are shut up
under the inexorable logic of the case. The symmetry of the
scheme of Eedemption would be impaired under the contrary hy-
^
f
A LETTER, 135
pothesis. ^o logical argument can be constructed against this
statement that may not be answered by an appeal to the lapsed
condition of the race. By the ordinance of the Creator, man is as
really a praying animal as he is a breathing animal.
*^ Leaving this inductive process, take still higher ground, and
heed the testimony of lievelation. There you will find the
fetcts stated in the simplest form, and without limitations. ' Ask,
a.iid ye shall receive, for every one that asketh receiveth.' You
know the force of the original word. It is ' because ' this is the
law of heaven's jurisprudence that the asker receives, the seeker
finds.
" I am now prepared to meet your terrible question touching
the disastrous failure of my prayers in Jack's case. I did not fail,
Parson, even in the details I I prayed for success in my projected
efibrts for Jack's deliverance and restoration, and I got. the an-
swer. My poor boy was saved, and his heart was quieted allhd
happy when we parted. His future looked unclouded to him,
aud I believe he passed away in the sunlight. It ijs we who are
left that mourn.
" Aud here I would stop if I dared, but I dare not. It is here that
my thoughts are in chaos ! I cannot bring order out of the con-
fusion, but it will come anon. You hint that a mysterious Provi-
dence has suddenly reversed my prayers, and given me mourning
for joy ^the spirit of heaviness for the garment of praise. Dear
friend, it is not so. Personally, I am enveloped in clouds and
darkness, for I am sorely smitten ; but behold ! through rifts in the
dark cloud I do constantly see the deep, blue vault of heaven,
blazing with myriad stars, and by their light I discern days and
years of happiness and peace for me, Lacy Barston, that would
have come to me never save through the portals of this dread
calamity ! It is not possible for me to write coherently here, and
you must wait until we meet. Meantime, remember me, and re-
ciprocate the affection of
" Your Mend,
" Lacy Baeston.
" To the Eev. John Harwood, A. Jf.,
Lavington^ DevonP
18 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
CHAPTER XXIII.
Another Letteb.
Lavington, bth SeptemheTj 18.
" "jiyTY DEAE FATHER: I left mother and Allen with Ret
jyjL this morning, when I dame away from the Hall, and I
rejoice to tell you that she is quite weU and composed. It has
been a terrible shock, and I marv^el that it did not kill her, in her
weak condition. The dear little baby has proved a messenger of
peace, and she seems to have grown into all the crevices of her
mother's heart. We have missed you more than I can tell you,
xind we all look forward to the end of the week with joyful antici-
pation. IKTobody can fill the vacuum your absence makes. Father.
" The funeral of your poor old gamekeeper brought me to the
village to-day. I have been to see, him every day since he was
hurt, and am charged with many grateful messages from him to
you. The last time I saw him alive he said, ^ Please your rever-
ence. Master Johnny, ask my lord if he won't give my place to yon
lad, Butler, when I am gone.' He then told me all the incidents
.of his fight with the poachers, which I will recount to you.
."It occurred on the same night that Jack was killed. Old
Slake was iu the wood near the Lacy lands, watching for the
rascals that iave been stealing your pheasants. It was quite
early in the evening when they came three of them. It was
moonlight, and he recognized them and imprudently called out
their names. It was Groves and his two sons, and they are a
thoroughly bad lot. As they were three to one, they assaulted
him, and would probably have murdered him outright if Butlei
had not suddenly appeared. One of the sons had a knife and
wounded Blake slightly and gave Butler an awful gash on the
forehead. It is cut into the bone and will disfigure him for life
But notwithstanding this wound he caught up Blake's gun, shot
one of the boys in the legs and knocked the father down, and
then helped Blake secure the third. It was a plucky tight. You
know Blake was fatally hurt afterwards by the accidental dis
charge of his own gun after he reached his cottage. The doctoi
bound up their wounds, but he says nothing can obliterate the
ugly scar just over Butler's eyes. Young Groves swdre positively
that he did not inflict the wound, and Butler said he could noi
ANOTHER LETTER. 131
swear that he did. The three Groves are committed for trial, how-
ever, and will be transported.
*^ I hardly know what to say, my dear Father, about old Blake's
^&gestion. I have delivered his message to you, but you will
^^ect me to say something about this new candidate. Indeed,
I^e may hardly be called a candidate, as he has said nothing about
tile matter to me. He is a stranger, resolutely silent about his
past, though he is a native of Devonshire. The only person who
knows him here is Kitty Willis, and she decidedly declines giving
^Uy information on the subject. Barston told me that he joined
1^ ship, the Onouj at Port Philip, presenting no credentials, but
showing marked ability as a seaman, and Captain Hardy gave
him some official position, whose duties he performed faithfully
^xxd well. Swiss does not like him. He says he has come through
^ bad experience of some sort. You will understand, and Swiss
Xaj:ticularly reminds me, that he knows nothing against the man,
^Ut says he " recoils from him instinctivelj." I ought to say here
^hat Barston is a gentleman of such pure nobility of soul, and of
^Uch delicate sensibility, that his instincts are almost sure to be
Just. I wish you knew my dear friend as intimately as I know
liim. But he may be in error in this case. I think there is a
X^romise of marriage betwixt Butler and Kitty Willis, and this is
iti bis favour, as she is a young woman of good sense, and would
^ot be likely to make an ill choice. Perhaps, if you should decide
t:o make him your gamekeeper, he might marry Kitty and live in
^lake's cottage. Dr. Holly says his wound is not dangerous,
though he escaped death by the breadth of a hair. The cut looks
H if it had been inflicted by a tomahawk.
" Dr. Holly also says, rather positively, that Sir John Lacy died
Of lieart disease, and that a post-mortem examination would prove
it;. His theory is that Jack fell dead from his horse. Barston
Avrote me the same thing just before he sailed last week on his
Xiaad cruise, which is very curious, as they certainly had not com-
Xared notes. You know Barston studied medicine before he went
into the law.
" About the matter of DeVere and Callahan. To think that I
liave been concealing from you, O wise Father, all that I feared
siibout Jack's intercourse with those fellows, and that you knew all
tilie time 1 Well, sir, I went to .DeVere's to-day and saw both him
^nd Callahan. They were very polite and sympathizing. As soon
I could, I asked about the state of Sir John Lacy's indebted-
138 THE LAOY DIAMONDS.
ness to them, and tliey both, with great show of indignation, said
they held no obligations of his. I endeavoured to question them,
but was put off with polite lies. I infer that Swiss paid those
I. O. IPs. If you put the question to Parchment but you cannot
do that, of course.
" Dear Father, I wish you would please disinherit me. I do not
know exactly what forms are necessary, but I very earnestly de-
sire to vacate my inheritance in favour of Herbert. I do not want
to be Lord Morton. I don't like i)arsons to have titles anyhow,
and I mean to be a Lord Bishop when low churchism gets into the
majority. This matter has been on my mind for several years,
but I have never spoken to yo^. about it, because I could not bear
to think or speak of the possibility of outliving yoiu And now,
having said so much, I will stop.
" My best and kindest friend, I have another word to say. Since
Eet's calamity I have seen a great deal of Miss Tamworth, and
have discovered that I could love her if you would allow me. I
have for some years admired her more than any other woman in
. the world except Lady Morton ; but I thought Swiss loved her, and
have therefore repressed my own desires for his sake. Dear
Swiss ! But it has suddenly occurred to me that I was mistaken,
and in the midst of much confusion of thought and many doubts,
I find my blood coursing through my veins with accelerated rapid-
ity whenever I think of Clare. If you teU me I may have her,
there will be nothing to do but get her to have me. I wiU not
think about her ^that is, I will endeavour to keep my thoughts in
subjection ^until I get your kind permission. This is my highest
idea of filial obedience.
" There has been a great deal of a mild sort of flirting betwixt
Miss Tamworth and me. It may be that she is merely keeping
her hand in with me, as no other eligible is at hand just now. She
certainly flirted desperately with Barston, but he is so cold-blooded
a fellow that I could not get jealous. . Perhaps her intent was to
provoke me to jealousy. I am so utterly ignorant of feminine wUes
that I cannot decide the point. But in serious matters, such as
mission work among my poor parishioners, she exhibits so much
zeal and such remarkable sense that I am constrained to admire
her on that account. She would make a most capital parsoness.
" This reminds me that I want a school house, father. 1 do not
expect to make a very heavy draft upon you. I have a good lot
of money of my own. But this Methodist chap ^I beg his par-
ANOTHER LETTER. 139
don, he is a Presbyterian of the free church, I believe ^I mean the
Revereod Mr. Macdower is getting up a regular mission school.
If you don't build me a school house he will get ahead of me, and
bj securing the children, will make the next generation in Laving-
ton dissenters I He is one of the best fellows in the world, and we
are excellent friends on the sly. He had the impudence to ask
my aid in establishing his school, and I have partly agreed to join
him in the enterprise, and to furnish some of the teachers from my
flock! The school could thus be non-sectarian, and as you are not
troubled by any allegiance to the prayer book, you can contribute
with a clear conscience. As for my money, I cannot decide how
much I can spare for dissenters until I know how my matrimonial
schemes will turn out. The locality we have in view is rather
south of Lavington than in the village proi)er, and the pupils we
expect are the children who work in the mills. There are two or
three hundred of them, and they belong to nobody but the devil
and Macdower, and I propose to enter the lists against him. He
has a dozen godly men and women who are eager to begin this
mission work, and I can probably gather as many more. Miss
Tamworth specially favours the scheme, and will jn-ove a most
efficient worker. Two or three hundred pounds will build the
house, and Lord Morton owns the laud we have selected.
" Before I close, dear father, I would just mention the fact that
your supply of Cabanas at the Priory is nearly exhausted. There
were only two boxes left the last time I was there, and there is
only one now ^that is a box of Colorados. The other one was
dark. I suppose you will be bet'ter satisfied to have enough to
last until Christmas, and if you will send some, say a thousand,
to me, I will send them (or part of them) to the Priory. It will
perhaps be more convenient to kfeep a few at the parsonage, and
I would suggest one box of Colorados and five boxes of Oscuros.
You had twenty-two boxes of dark cigars at Harwood House last
May ; 1 counted them. 1 mean twenty-two after I left. Allen is
a great rascal, and may have * conveyed' some of them since.
"Your loving and dutiful son,
"John Habwood.
" To LoED Morton,
^ LondonP
140 TEE LACY DIAMONDS.
CHAPTER XXIV.
Kellie.
MR. BARSTOiN" returned in safety fifom his Antarctic explo-
rations. He claimed the discovery of an entire continent.
He called it " Spencerland,'' in honour of the commander of the
expedition, who was too intent upon his scientific investigations
to care for honours. He and Barston constructed a set of isother-
mal charts, an extensive map of certain inaccessible coasts, which
were closely beset with ice floes eleven months and twenty-nine
days in each year, and brought back to England valuable speci-
mens, geological and vegetable the former being small chips from
the aforesaid coast and the latter consisting of lichens and ndnute
slips of the saxifrage genus. They also presented to the Royal
Geographical Society, of which Mr. Spencer was a member, elabo-
rate treatises upon sea currents, tides and ice drifts ; and these
papers were duly read, and discussed, and printed, and filed away
in the archives of that venerable society. It is probable that one
man in every million of her Majesty's subjects read every word of
this highly entertaining and instructive literature. There were
many adventures, some hair- breadth escapes from ice nips, months
of heroic endurance while " frozen in," all of which might furnish
material for a romance, but which do not concern the present
veracious history. Mr. Spencer, by way of a change, then sailed for
the West Indian Archipelago with the especial object of investi-
gating hurricanes, cyclones and other meteorological phenomena
of that turbulent region. As neither he nor his vessel has been
heard from since, it is probable that he is not yet ready to report
progress. Mr. Barston did not accompany him on this expedi-
tion, and as the reader is more interested in him than in Mr. Spen-
cer, the latter will, with this brief notice, pass out of the present
narrative.
But the gentle reader has not yet done with Mr. Swiss. He
spent several weeks in London, editing the aforementioned scien-
tific papers. Then he went to Lavington. It was in the early
spring, and Lord Morton was in London. Lady Lacy was at the
Red Hall, and Swiss, who had not seen her for nearly four years,
was lull of eager curiosity, and was also conscious of some trepi-
dation as the swifb train approached the pretty village. The
NELLIE. 141
reader has already discovered that his whole life was bound up in
hers, and that all his capacity for loving was employed in loving
her. The rector was also in London, but Mr. Barston went directly
to liis old quarters in his Mend's house. It was rather lonely, but
Swiss was a philosopher. The morning after his arrival he went
. out on an exploring expedition, first to Kitty Willis's house, but
she was not at home. " She had gone to the Eed Hall in Lady
Lacy's carriage," the old woman informed him. Then he mounted
Roland and rode to the Eipple Farm.
Tommy, Widow Dawson's son and heir, was waiting in the lane.
The gash across his countenance was still unhealed, and the
W'liite teeth, which should have been sunburnt from constant
exposure, still glistened within the gaping chasm.
** Glad to see you back, Master Lacy," said the boy. " Mother
heard you were in Lunnon, and we've been expecting you every
day.?^
^^ I am glad to see you, Tommy," answered Barston, shaking
Ms hand. "How is your mother?"
*^ Main well, sir. Must I give Eoland a bite ?"
*^ Yes, and I will get a bite too, I hope. I am going to lunch
on bread and milk."
*^ Better nor that, sir !" replied Tommy, with a grin that threw
tti^ upper half of his head into a right angle with the lower jaw.
*'My dear dame," said Swiss, as he entered the cottage,
" Tommy has raised my expectations I Are curds possible in
^X^ril!"
*^ Curds are possible at Eipple whenever you come, Master
cy," said the widow. " Lawks ! I can make 'em at Christmas !
-^Vigust is the nat'ral month for 'em, but I can make August
"^^^ather by the kitchen fire. Will you have it now, sir "J"
*^ When I come back, please. I am going to the beach for a
^Si dip. Do you know that 1 have been breaking the ice nearly
^"v^cry day for two years to get my salt water bath ? I have been
a country where August is midwinter, and where midsummer
S not melt the ice. Towels ? thank you. Within the hour I
sliall be ready for the curd."
** I wish you would go round by the road, Master Lacy. Some
^^y you'll break your precious neck among the rocks."
** Kever fear, dame. I am very cautious. Don't tell anybody
tliat I scramble among the rocks. That which is easy for me
^ould be perilous for Tommy."
142 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
When Mr. Barston returned from the beach the luncheon wj
ready. He always insisted upon his seat at the kitchen tabU
though Mrs. Dawson had a "best room/' which was regularly*^
aired and dusted but never occupied.
" Mrs. Dawson," said Mr. Barston, "I thought of going to the
West Indies the other day, and one thing I had decided to do wa
to buy a cask of Porto Eico sugar. I have an idea that I could
select the best on the island. Out of this cask a barrel belongs
to you."
" Thank'ee, Master Lacy. Does sugar grow there t"
" Yes, also cyclones. My friend, Mr. Spencer, has sailed in
search of the latter."
" Are they good to eat !"
" !N"o, they are an unwholesome sort of diet, I fancy. I have
heard nothing about Oakland and nothing about Lavington. Can
you give me any gossip F
" Ko, sir. William was here yesterday. My lady has engaged
a nurse for Miss Ellen. Did you know the little baby was named
EUen Barston !"
" No, indeed," said Swiss, startled.
" Yes, sir. She is named for your baby sister. Sir John had
so named her, though she was not christened when he died."
" Who is the nurse, Mrs. Dawson f
Kitty WiUis."
" Ah I How did it happen !"
" William says Lord Morton and the rector recommended her
m
very highly. Master Lacy, I have found out something."
" Indeed I What is it, dame !"
" Do you remember when old Dobbin was killed ! Well, sir,
William says you bought the new horse and not Sir John."
" Pooh, dame, it was all the same. What does William know
about it !"
" Sir John told him," answered Mrs. Dawson, severely. " You
sent Hawder's boy with the horse ^
" And the jackass told Jack, and Jack told William. What a
coil about nothing 1" replied Swiss. ** Tell me some more recent
gossip."
" Don't know any more, sir. Lord Morton's gamekeeper ^
" Old Blake f
" No, sir. Young Butler."
" By the three kings !" said Barston, starting up, " things are
growing complicated I What were you about to say, dame t"
NELLIE. 143
**otlimg, sir only Butler is an ugly brute I William can't
a#l6ar liim. Kitty is a pretty, decent girl, and ought to have a
better spark than that drunken rascal."
^* Softly, dame. Butler is rather handsome. Indeed, if he
Tv-ore dressed in modem costume he would pass for a thorough-
bred. As for his drunkenness, that must be a mistake. I was
two months and more aboard ship with him and he never touched
ram."
*^ Well, sir, he touches it now. I don't want to harm him if he
w-ould let that gal alone. He goes to the village every other night
to court her, and now that she is at the Eed Hall he will go there.
It is more convenient for him. He lives in Blake's cottage, which
is near the Hall, you know."
** Tommy, bring Eoland," said Mr. Barston. " I think I will
ride round by the Priory road and call on Mr. Butler. Dame, the
drd was faultless. May I light my cigar here f
*^ Lawks ! Master Lacy."
*^That means yes. Puff, puff. Good bye, dame. Tommy, you
expect a shilling F
**Ko, sir!" answered Tommy, mendaciously.
** Well, shut your jaws ! Here is half a crown. Ho I Roland I"
-^^^d mounting the restless horse he held him quiet with an iron
hand. ^' Dame," he said, " perhaps it would be better to keep all
that gossip for my ears alone for the present. There is some
^*^ystery about these people. Let us not excite their suspicions.
I aim going to unravel the mystery this time, by the three kings !
-^"W-ay, Boland I" and with a snort and a mighty bound Eoland
"^^i:^^ from the door, while Tommy looked on with admiring eyes.
-*^heii, as the horseman disappeared behind a little clump of trees,
t-*^^ boy turned his gaze upon the bright coin in his hand, while
*^he tipper half of his cranium lifted itself two or three inches.
*''Ere's the 'arfcrown, mother," he said, regretfully; "he allers
f ^ys a shillin', and allers gives me 'arf a crown or a florin. Put it
""^^ the stockin'. Now he's come they'll chink in faster. By Christ-
'^a,^ I'll have a small fortin I" How prone is humanity to forecast
*^^ future!
-A.S Eoland turned into the high road, Barston saw a landau
5^^ti had passed the mouth of the lane a few minutes earlier, now
^^Xt' a mile away. Peeping above the top, which was thrown
^ik, he saw the flutter of ribbons in the jaunty hat of the occu-
P^^t Then as he drew nearer he recognized the horses and then
144 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
the livery on the broad shoulders of Lady Lacy's coachman, Wil-
liam. With beatiug heart he shook his bridle, turning his heel to
Roland's flank, and in a moment he was beside the carriage, peer-
ing anxiously in the face of Kitty Willis, William checked his
horses.
" Hooray I'' he shouted. " Welcome home, Master Lacy I^
"Thank you, William. How is my lady? Well? And this is
Kitty Willis and Nellie La^, by the three kings! Stand,
Roland !" And leaning forward he held out his arms to the child,
while a tempest of emotions swept over his face.
The child gazed into his gentle eyes with steady scrutiny for a
moment, and then holding up her little hands was caught to his
breast, while her rosy face was hidden in his flowing beard.
"My darling! my darling!'' muttered the strong man as he
drew his horse apart. " Ret's baby I Jack's baby ! Oh, Merci-
ful ! My baby evermore !" And scarcely conscious of his own
thoughts or purposes he spurred Roland again, and galloped
away with the child clinging to his neck, crowing with delight.
Perhaps the story thus far told has been so clumsily related
that the gentle reader has failed to see through Lacy Barston's
soul-windows, and therefore cannot account for many of his acts
and speeches. To the author he looms up in grand proportions,
and the steadfast nobleness of his character shows through all his
whimsicalities. Katurally impulsive and passionate, his life has
been one long practice of self-denial and self-restraint. In his
early youth his dying father, recognizing the inherent force of his
character, had charged him to watch over his kinsman, John
Lacy, through life, and this burden, which was a solemn obliga-
tion in young Barston's mind, had doubtless coloured his entire
life. And now that death had relieved him from this charge, he
had comfort in remembering that he had never uttered one unkind
word, though frequently sorely tried by his restless ward. Some-
how he had come to regard Sir John as the representative of his
own father and mother, and therefore entitled to whatever he
might claim of him. Otherwise he would never have relinquished
the only woman who had ever attracted him. And God had been
good to him in tempering the quaint relations he sustained to his
cousin with a brother's love, making endurance and forbearance
easy duties. He had seemed to step into his father's office, and
Jack being gone, the great unselfish love he had cherished for liim
was now suddenly transferred to the infant nestling in his bosom.
THE GAMEKEEPER. 145
" Do you know me, baby f he said at last, pulling up his horse.
" No. What name T
" Cousin Laey. Can you say * Cousin Lacy,' iN'ellie f
*^ Tousin Lacy. I love Tousin Lacy V^ and she pirted his beard
Tvith dimpled fingers and kissed him.
And so the child passed into the core of his heart, taking her
place there with all due authority, and reigning with despotic
sway while its pulsations continue. She is there to-day, exacting,
wUM and loving.
CHAPTER XXV.
The Gamee:eepeb.
W'HEIS" Earston relinquished iN'ellie to her new nurse he
turned from the high road, and passing through a grassy
lane entered the broad domain of Morton Priory. Half a mile
from the highway was situated the gamekeeper's cottage. He
had no definite plan beyond seeing the gamekeeper, and deciding
for himself as to Butler's character and habits. The memory of
old Willis and of the wistful expression of his face, when he
entreated him to watch over his daughter, was the most promi-
nent impression upon his mind. He endeavoured to analyze his
feeling of repugnance, which was always uppermost when he
thought of Butler, but he could not make up a reasonable case.
The reports he had heard from Mrs. Dawson he took cum grano
scUiSy making allowance for prejudice and for i)ossible jealousy on
"William's part. Kitty was attractive enough, and, in Barston's
judgment, far too good for any man in a subordinate position ; as
for allowing her to throw herself away upon a drunkard, that was
not to be thought of. There was also an unaccountable suspicion
in his mind that Eatty was hardly good enough for Butler, whose
rough manners had always seemed to Barston to be assumed for
a purpose. While he was still busy with these reflections, he
reached the stile leading to the cottage, and seated upon it he
saw his quondam shipmate watching him composedly as he
approached.
He wore a gray shooting jacket and trousers, his nether limbs
being covered with long leathern gaiters buttoning above the knee.
A felt hat, cocked up over his brow, half concealed his eyes.
10
146 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
As he straightened himself with indolent grace, there was in his
manner a consciousness that he was on his own premises, and
there was nothing servile in his salute when Mr. Barston checked
his horse at the stile. Two things shot through the mind of the
visitor. First : that Mr. Butler was vastly improved in appear-
ance; second, that he was on guard.
" I heard that you were here,'' said Barston, with direct honesty,
" and I rode in to see you."
^' How can I serve you, sir F replied Butler, quietly.
" By telling me the truth. You need not look insulted ^
^^ I am not in the habit of lying, Mr. Barston."
" I did not mean to imply that you were. I should like to ask
you a few questions, if you do not object."
" Proceed, sir," said Butler, reseating himself upon the stile.
" I scarcely know how, by the three kings !" returned Barsten ;
"but the truth is always safe. I have heard nay, I have seen,
that there is such an understanding betwixt you and Kitty Willis
as should only exist betwixt those who intend marriage."
"Well, sir r
" I have reasons for what I say about this matter. When her
father died he requested me te protect his child from harm. On
that account alone I have sought you to-day."
" You mean that my courtship may harm her ?"
" Possibly. Or rather, that your marriage with her might harm
her. 1 do not know. Hang it, man !" he continued, with a little
outburst of temper, " why are you so infernally glum and myste-
rious ? If you are an honest man, a sober man, and the girl likes
you, it would be a great pleasure to me to aid rather than hinder
you. Who are you ?"
" Lord Morton's gamekiseper," said the other, "passably honest,
perhaps. Passably sober sometimes "
" Who were you ? There is the true difficulty I You come upon
us here a waif from the ocean. For aught I know to the contrary
you may have been a pirate. Why the deuce can't you en-
lighten me enough to quiet my conscience ? Look you ! We have
been together in peril, and if there were not some horrible reason
for your reticence, there would have been confidence betwixt us.
What black spot is in your past that you should be constantly on
the watch against friend and foe?"
Butler rose slowly, and throwing his leg over the stile slid dowu
into the lane.
THE GAMEKEEPER, ' 141
"Waif, drunkard, possible thief, possible pirate !" he said, count-
ing the epithets off on his fingers. " Hadn't you better add ^ possi-
ble murderer,' and so complete the catalogue f and he dashed his
hat upon the grass and faced his persecutor with pallid counte-
nance, on which there was no sign of fear. Then Barston saw on
his forehead a long purple seam, an inch above his eyes, the more
noticeable because of the ashy hue of the rest of his face. Barston
threw his bridle on Eoland's neck and dismounting drew near his
interlocutor, his soul filled with tender pity.
" I have wounded you sorely,'' he said gently, " and I am very
sorry. Let me atone for my fault by befriending you. If you are
crashed under some hideous memory for so my instinct teaches
me I pray you let me comfort you. God is' more merciful than
we think Him. Do you not remember that He allowed me to avert
an impending death once ^"
'^ Ay !" answered Butler ; " and I also know that I owe Him no
thanks for that ! The peace I have failed to find on earth might
have been mine a thousand fathoms down under the sea )P
"You shock me!" said Barston; "such dreadful words should
never issue from mortal lips. No calamity has befallen you that
is not common to man, and no calamity is incurable while life
endures. Will you allow me to aid you f
"I require no man's aid," said the other ; " if you really wish to
do me a kindness, let me alone. As for the young woman, it is
likely enough that she incurs less peril under my protection than
she would under charge of a gay young gentleman like you.'-
"You are not speaking your true sentiments," replied Barston,
with dignity. " The tokens you give of gentle breeding are un-
mistakable. I implore you to confide in a man of your own class,
and let me extricate you if I can from the past, and assure your
future. Mount my horse and ride to Oakland. T will get another
in the village and follow you."
" You accused me of drunkenness but now," said Butler, picking
up his hat and reseating himself upon the stile. " Most men would
say you were either drunk or mad to make such a proposition to
me."
" Perhaps. But you know that I am neither. Will you come F
"A thousand times no !" said Butler. " Is it not possible for you
to leave me to myself?"
" It is not possible," answered Barston, gravely.
" Well then," said Butler, with a defiant air, " let us understand
148 * THE LACY DIAMONDS.
each other. There can be no quarrel between us, first, because
you have saved my life ; and second, because I am not insensible
of your kind intentions. I will say nothing about your conceit as
to my true condition. I know that you are a whimsical gentle-
man, and you may take up some new conceit to-morrow. But I
notify you that I will thwart you in every way, as I have oppor-
tunity, unless you consent to walk apart from me. It may be
that I shall apply to you some day and remind you of your
generous ofiers. In the meantime be on your guard. I am on
mine."
"Pooh!" said Barston, "the contest is unequal. I have no
vulnerable spots. I cannot walk apart from you if I would. My
home is here, and this girPs welfiare was put under my charge. I
cannot relinquish it until I know more of you. If you will at
least quit drink ."
" I cannot. One must sleep sometimes."
" Eum is a poor soporific. You have taken to it since we met
on shipboard."
" Yes," said Butler, wincing a little.
" And you have got a new mark since we parted. Doubtless it
also is due to rumF
" What a devil you carry in your tongue, Mr. Barston," said
Butler, with a ghastly attempt at a smile. " You are very
thoughtful of Kitty's welfare. Heaven pity the unfortunate
woman you may chance to marry !"
Barston mounted his horse. He had thrown away his cigar
when he met ^N^ellie, and he proceeded to light another while he
pondered the last speech of the gamekeeper.
" That strikes me as a very sensible observation, Mr. Butler,"
he said at last. " The truth is, matrimony is a very risky business
on the part of women. Men who are not brutes are very apt to
be fools, and I reaUy do not know more than half a dozen amongst
my acquaintances who are fit to assume so grave a trust. We
shall meet again, and I hope you will be in a better mood. It
occurs to me now, as we are about to part, to ask you if you have
none bound to you by ties of blood who might suffer in seeing
you degraded no mother, no father ^"
" I am alone in the world," said Butler, turning his back upon
him as he crossed the stile. " My mother died before I was old
enough to know her, and all I remember of my father is a scowling
face and bitter tongue. My chief solace now is in cursing his
SWISS IN TROUBLE, 149
Barston watched his retreatmg form until it disapi)eare(l in the
cottage door, and then rode soberly down the lane.
" The fates have dealt hardly with him," he thought, " and I
suppose the mournful tones of his voice awaken my sympathy.
It is the most inscrutable mystery altogether. I am not sure that
I came off victor in yonder encounter of wits. The fellow is
plucky as a dog ! He got that crack on the crown in some devil's
business or he would not have winced so when I referred to it.
He boldly challenges me to the contest, and I purpose to begin
my part by taking Kittj' to Oakland. K I get her there he will
have to do his courting under difficulties. I will offer her the
place of housekeeper, at high wages, to-morrow."
Mr. Butler unlocked a cupboard, took out a bottle and a glass,
and seating himself near the window poured out half a tumbler
of brandy. As he sipped it he watched the horseman riding down
the lane.
" Mr. Barston is a troublesome customer," he thought; "he has
inherited his mother's sharp wit and his father's invincible per-
tinacity. What a handsome fellow he is ! If he were not so un-
deniably thoroughbred I vow I should be jealous about Kitty I
He will be apt to begin operations against me without delay, and
I must get the start of him somehow. I must ask Kitty. She
will know if he has any weak points. Something must be done
to get him out of the neighbourhood. Is there no way to get this
devil's brand from my face f ' and he ground his teeth in an agony
of rage. Then he emptied his glass, and taking a double barrelled
gun from the corner, he left the cottage, and crossing the meadow,
struck through the woods in the direction of the Bed HalL
CHAPTER XXVI.
Swiss in Tkouble.
LADY LAOY'S carriage conveyed her, with Miss Tamworth,
!Nellie and her nurse, to Morton Priory the day after the
foregoing occurrences. There had been an amicable contest be-
tween her and her parents ever since the death of Sir John, touch-
ing her continued residence at the Eed Hall. The elders were
iQore eager to have their daughter resume her old place in her
160 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
old home, because of the incumbrance in little Nellie, who was the
tyrannical mistress of both houses, bat Eet had steadfastly de-
cUned "for the present,'' and had always cogent arguments to
present against the arrangement, drawn from the requirements of
the estate, which she was bound to administer in Kellie's in-
terests. Another plea was furnished by Miss Tamworth's con-
stant residence at the Eed Hall as Lady Lacy's guest. She had
never left her since Kellie's birth, and the thought of separation
did not enter the mind of either.
^ The park was putting on its spring attire and was truly beau-
tiful. The evergreens, standing in clumps near the house, had
gotten rid of the rust of winter, and the deciduous trees, with
their young, green leaves, were bursting into new life under the
delightful sun of Devon. The conservatory runs along the
southern side of the house, and on this bright morning the double
sashes were open and the wealth of fragrant bloom was within
reach of the lawn. Lady Lacy had never yielded her proprietor-
ship of the conservatory, and half an hour after their arrival she
opened the glass door in the drawing-room communicating with
the conservatory and entered her ancient domain. She had taken
but a few steps when she was startled by the sound of voices. The
speakers were hidden by the dense foliage of two huge lemon
trees, and as she retreated she heard a sentence or two.
" You must come and live at Oakland, Kitty '^
" Impossible, Mr. Barston."
" But you must Everything depends upon it. Are you so mad
as to wreck your own happiness ^'^
Lady Lacy passed back into the drawing-room and closed the
door, hearing no more of this interesting colloquy. Miss Tam-
worth was at the piano, and Lady Morton standing near her.
While Eet was still stunned and trying to collect her thoughts,
the glass door opened behind her and Mr. Barston entered with
Kellie in his arms. Kitty, with flushed face, followed, and Eet
was lost in admiration of the cool eftrontery of our friend Swiss,
who approached her with his hand extended.
" I rejoice to see you looking so well," he said, glancing at her
black dress. " My dear little JSTellie met me on arrival au,d bade
me come in this way. I hope I have not startled you !" he added
anxiously, noticing her perplexed look.
" Yes you have, a little. How long have you been here F
" I arrived but now. My lady, I teel that I am indeed at home
SWISS IN TROUBLE. 151
once more when I receive your welcome. Ah ! Miss Tamwoith,
you look as charmingly innocent as if you had no broken hearts
to answer for. I have been in England but a few weeks and have
met half a dozen victims of your flirting powers already ! Nellie !
have you not told your mamma that you met your cousin Lacy
yesterday f '
" Oh, yes,'' answered Miss Tamworth. " Kellie gave us glow-
ing accounts of her ride yesterday. As you have made a conquest
there so expeditiously, I think you must have been learning some
flirting lessons among the Esquimaux damsels."
^' I have not been among them,'' replied Barston, " and I have
not offered ^ dehcate attentions ' to any lady since I saw you last.
The renown you have acquired as a heart-breaker has seemed
like a constant challenge to me, and so I come to prove your
prowess."
^' Indeed, you have come in vain," said Clare, lightly. " I shall
not waste any efforts upon you. I happen to know that you are
sworn to celibacy."
" I f said Swiss, in surprise ; " you are greatly mistaken. For
thirty dreary months I have lived among rude men. Ko woman's
presence to humanize, no woman's voice to soothe. In the midst
of appalling horrors, day after day, when all the days were nights,
I have watched the gorgeous constellations of the Southern Pole,
and longed for the returning sun. The ice, spread around me in
almost limitless floes, or standing in cold splendour, huge bergs,
glittering in the moonlight, was not more desolate than my lot,
deprived of gentle woman's influence and sympathy. And in that
long imprisonment there was no waking hour when the ladies, in
whose presence I stand to-day, were not present in my thoughts.
And I think I may truthfully add, there was no hour of sleep
when they failed to gild my dreams."
" If it were not for the air of earnestness you put on," said Miss
Tamworth, " I would compUment you on that pretty speech. Still
I am sure you have professed to be proof against feminine wiles.
The rector has quoted you ^
"Ah!" said Barston, "Parson Johnny has misunderstood me,
perhaps. He has not been wretch enough to accuse me of ^
" Nothing worse than confirmed bachelorhood. But that freez-
ing account you have just given of your late surroundings has
awakened all my curiosity. I shall require a full chronicle of
your adventures."
152 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
" Mr. Barston has kindly come to entertain us to-day,^ said
Lady Morton. " John and his father will be here to dinner."
" Yes,'' answered Barston, " I left them at the Rectory. Parson
Johnny will drive out here to luncheon. Lord Morton and he
arrived in the early train, and I had the pleasure of taking break-
fast with them. I was too impatient to wait for them. Kellie,
I will take you on Roland's back again after luncheon ;" and he
gave the child to Kitty, who retired with her through the conser-
vatory.
Lord Morton and the rector arrived shortly after and were re-
ceived with great empressement by the ladies. Sundry parcels,
brought down from London, containing articles of feminine adorn-
ment, no doubt, attracted the ladies on the instant, and following
the servant who bore them to some interior chamber, these charm-
ing women gloated over ducks of bonnets until luncheon was an-
nounced, when they gloated over cold beef and salad.
' Do you return to the Red Hall before dinner F said Mr. Bars-
ton, addressing Lady Lacy.
" Yes. The carriage is ordered at two o'clock. Kellie must be
at home before dark."
" May I take her, then, on Roland ? There are some law papers
which Mr. Parchment told me I ought to see. They are in the
safe ^"
"And Mrs. Froome has the key. Certainly you may take
Kellie, if she will not encumber you."
" Then I will go at once, if my lady will excuse me."
" On condition that you return to dine and sleep," answered
Lady Morton.
" Your room has been waiting for you. Lacy," said Lord Morton,
" for years, and you have never occupied it."
'^ " Many thanks ! I cannot accept, positively, until I see those
legal documents. It may be necessary for me to take them to
London at once ; but it will be a great disappointment to me if
it should so happen. Kcllie, my darling, get your wraps !"
Miss Tam worth and the rector followed Barston, leaving Lord
and Lady Morton with Ret at the table.
" My dear," said Lord Morton, " I am greatly perplexed about '
that boy and I require the aid of your sharper wit. Sit still. Ret !
I want your judgment, also."
" Of whom are you speaking ?" said his wife.
" Of Lacy Barston. I had to wait an hour for John this mom-
SWISS IN TBOUBLE. 168
ing, as he had a vestry meeting, and while he was absent, Butler,
the gamekeeper, called. It seems his visit was intended for the
Parson, but he said he greatly preferred telling his story to me.
He is courting your nurse, Eet."
" Yes, sir."
" Well, he is terribly jealous of Mr. Barston ! When he blurted
out this statement I was disposed to get in a passion, but some-
thing real about the fellow's appearance kept me cool. He says
Barston is pursuing the girl constantly. Did she drive on the
Exeter road yesterday, Eet F
" Yes, sir."
" Butler says Barston waylaid her yesterday, and also that he
went to Lavington this morning specially to see her. Was she
there this morning *?"
" Yes, sir."
" Then he saw her, no doubt. As John and I walked down
from the station we met him, and he said he had just seen your
carriage. I cannot tell what to think. I did not ask John, but
have been brooding over the matter all the morning. The girl is
the daughter of an actor, who died here a few years ago, and has
some smattering of .education. But Barston could hardly think
seriously of marrying so far beneath his station ! There is no
accounting for infatuation, however. The whole story is compli-
cated. Butler says Barston offered Kitty any wages she would
demand if she would quit your service and enter his ! It will re-
quire something like an earthquake to shake my confidence in
Lacy Barston's integrity. But I am thoroughly annoyed and per-
plexed. Enlighten me, wife I"
" Come, Eet P said Miss Tam worth from the door. " It is going
to rain. I ventured to order the carriage at once."
They rose from the table, and as Eet arrayed herself in bonnet
and wrappings her mother stood apart, meditating. Lord Morton
waited anxiously for her reply, which came at last.
" Ask John ! Tell him all about it. I feel certain that he will
be able to explain everything. Don't you think so, Eet ?"
" Alas ! no. Good bye, Mother, Father !" and as they kissed her
they noticed the tears in her gentle eyes.
164 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
OHAPTEE XXVII.
Swiss Explains.
AT the Red Hall the Keep, which was the nucleus of the sys-
tem of buildings that made up the residence, was a huge
square tower, rising two stories above its surroundings. The
ground floor was the dining room, and the next floor was Sir
Ranald's room. This had been somewhat modernized by Sir
John, and a stone portico added to the Keep, giving entrance to
the dining room and also to a stairway leading directly to the
library, as this ancient chamber was now called. This had
gradually grown to be the main entrance, and when Lady Lacy
arrived, just in advance of the shower, she ascended at once to the
library, where she found Mr. Barston seated at the table and por-
ing over musty looking deeds and leases. He rose at her entrance
and placed a chair for her, and after some allusion to their good
fortune in escaping the rain, which was now falling, he resumed
his study of the papers while she sat quietly by.
" Cousin Ret," he said at last, " if you will allow me to claim
kindred, I find enough in these papers to make it necessary for
me to return to London. There is a flaw in your title that must
be mended."
^' I do not understand you," she answered.
" It is easily remedied," said Barston, placing the deeds in his
pocket. " You will entrust me with the papers f"
" Certainly. What is the nature of the flaw f
" The death of Elbert Lacy, of which there is no doubt, has
never been legally proven. The inheritance of the Lacy estate is
really in ^N^ellie, in equity, and it could doubtless be established
by Chancery proceedings. I expect to arrange it less expen-
sively."
" I am glad you have mentioned the matter, as I have wished
to consult you about it since for some time. Pray, whose inter-
ests conflict with Nellie's ?"
"None. That is, without some slight rectification the lands
might pass to to another, who has no sort of right to them.
My legal knowledge is so superficial that I wish to consult
Parchment."
" And who is that other F persisted Ret.
SWISS EXPLAINS. 165
" Oh, no matter. You see there was a will three generations
bact, and there has been no will since. Lord Morton would
probably know about it. My father was Jack's guardian;" he
winced as he uttered the name, and his voice faltered a little, but
he went on, *' and when he died he gave me some general direc-
tions, which I have tried to follow."
*^ I see I must speak plainly, Mr. Bars ton. Tou are the heir-
at-law ^
'' ^ot I !" replied Swiss stoutly. '^ What an absurdity ! Who
liiJ^ put such a wise notion into your head f
*' No one. I have read all those papers and some others. Mr.
S^rston," she continued, earnestly, " I owe you a great deal of
^*ioney and I am going to pay it !"
** What astounding bosh you are talking !" said Swiss, rising
^^d approaching her.
** I am talking sound sense," she replied, firmly, " and you know
I a,m right. I owe yon ten thousand pounds, which you paid to
^i*. Bottomry, and some more I don't know how much, but you
^^ill tell me that you paid Mr. DeVere, and I am not going to
^Uow you to deprive yourself of your legal rights to these lands,
sii? ! They are yours, under your grandfather's will, not Nellie's !"
^* lifow, by the three kings of Cologne !" said Barston, stamping
^is foot, " see what comes of a woman's dabbling in law matters.
^ ^v-a^s inaccurate just now when I said my knowledge was super-
^^ia.L I know enough law to be certain that I have no rights
'' Tery well, sir. Waiving that point for the present, will you
^l^a.se explain about Mr. Bottomry and Mr. DeVere f '
*' Explain!" stammered Swiss. " Certainly that is there is
^^^^ thing to explaiu. Seriously, madame, you have no right to
^*^^lie ducks and drakes of Nellie's inheritance."
** Bid you pay any moneys to those gentlemen in behalf of my
^"^sland r said Ket, with deliberation.
** Well, really, this is very irregular, and I may add very un-
^^tcifortable," said Barston. ''I may have had some transactions
-"^^fc the gentlemen you name, but I cannot be expected to re-
^^^liiber all the little details."
** Did you pay Mr. Bottomry ten thousand pounds F
. *^ Perhaps ; but it was not Nellie's money, and allow me to say
^ '^^as not yours, that Mr. Bottomry claimed. According to your
^^^X wild inference it was my own debt I paid, as Mr. Bottomry
*^Aci a lien upon the Lacy lands."
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f ..'. ' ..;).... .-/, t.i.iiifr^.^A 'A-ii.' L.: wUh the sciKm tf passKMif dism^-^f
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li./ M/*. "o.: lU^z r:/nriJiiit of an old sail j pt, and was
'i/w.//yii ^ .K (,;iit. of tb; aiii:icut outer wall of Lacy Keep. It "^^^
A MONOLOGUE MASCULINE. 167
t of massive stones, and on the inner side adomect with gro-
ne carvings of saints and angels. Besides the main arch E^
e were some fragments of the wall still standing, and the
re ruin had been carefully preserved through lat^r generations
le Lacys, and was, in fact, the show ruin of the neighbourhood-
as overgrown with ivy, and there were sundry hiding places
he remains of the wall. Out of one of these, near the arch,
scarred countenance of Mr. Butler peered, overspread with
Tdonic grin, and affording a sharp contrast to the pious ex-
sion on the stone faces in the arch, as he watched the horse-
galloping away. It also afforded a very strong contrast to
lovely face of Lady Lacy, watching him from her chamber
low.
TJI
OHAPTEE XXVIII.
A MoNOi^oGUE Masculine.
i \ DEFEI^CELESS girl!"^ said Mr. Barston, as Roland
-^ sped down the avenue 5 " ^ a defenceless girl,' she said,
ppears to me that she made a very respectable defence. By the
e kings ! how beautiful she looked, while her eyes were blaz-
! How lovely, when they were drowned in tears! So she
lost hates me !' I suppose if I had stayed a little longer the
)st would have grown into the altogether. ^ Insulted !'
unded !' and by Lacy Barston, who has been worshipping her
L blind idolatry for a dozen years. By Lacy Barston, who
Id bite off his tongue before he would insult a woman,
lel!' and I have a reputation for such a degree of milk-
dshness as would not hurt a fly I
What could there have been in my words or manner that
ed such a devil in this gentle girl f I only told her that I
d her. I am sure I should have endured it better than that
le proposition were reversed! What a tigress she is my
ing! She has rejected me point blank! Scouted me and
offer with bitter reproaches! But she cannot prevent me
ag her,'' and he ground his teeth " and I intend to love her
e I live^and afterwards, please Heaven !
I was too abrupt. What a simpleton I was to blurt out a
i
\
..\
168 THE LACY DIAMONDS,
declaration to this ' poor defenceless girl ' without proper warn-
ing ! I should have dangled after her five or six months, made
pretty speeches and written poetry! Oh, Eet! I thought you
had more sense. Alas! it was not that. She dislikes me per-
sonally, and she was outraged because I did not respect her
widowhood. She would have been better pleased if I had gone
about helping her moan over Jack! Why, the poor boy has
been nearly three years 'buried, and she spoke of him with the
coolest composure ! But I have not seen her since 'he died, and
it would have been more decorous in me if I had gone over the
usual condolences ! How is a fellow to know all these conven-
tionalisms who has never liad any practice in the humbug f
"It is clear that the difficulty is just there ! For she said some-
thing about ' the memory of my kinsman ' shielding her from my
outrageous proposal.
"I may as well face the situation. Second marriages are an
abomination. Suppose I had married Eet and lost her could I
ever put another woman in her place ? ]N^ever ! never ! My soul
recoils with unspeakable horror from the bare thought! Nay,
the thought of taking any other woman on the earth gives me a
regular fit of the horrors. I could never do it ! And no doubt
Eet ^I beg her pardon Lady Lacy, cherishes the memory of her
husband as I should cherish her memory if I had suffered similar
bereavement.
" And so I have been led thus far astray by my blind and self-
ish passion, and have pained and shocked my beloved with bru-
tal recklessness ! Yonder reprobate said, ^ Woe to the woman I
married,' and ho was right ! All my thoughts of comforting,
defending, protecting her, were unlimited bosh ! I should have
made her life miserable! To think of linking such sweetness and
beauty to my rudeness ! Ah I if Mr. Butler had only foreseen to-
day's experience, he need not have threatened me with ^ thwarting
my plans.' I must leave the field to him. But I'll warn Parson
Johnny, by the three kings !
" I must go to London to-night and make Parchment fix these
title-deeds. The poor little defenceless vixen cannot prevent that
at least. I do not know how to prove Elbert Lacy's death, but
Parchment can manage it. What admirable wisdom the sharp
little woman displayed in that contest about the Lacy succession,
and she has gotten all her knowledge of the case from these musty
parchments. But Bottomry! How did she know about Bot-
A MONOLOGUE MASCULINE, 159
tomi*^ and DeVere *? It is pretty certain that the rascals did not
tell. Johnny has been prating, no doubt.
*' Xt L3 raining like blazes, and I never knew it ! I wonder if it
was xuining in this fashion when I left her ladyship, and if so, I
woader if slie enjoyed the prospect before me three miles to the
nearest shelter. I will not believe it ; she would not turn a dog
oat in such a storm arS this.
" Just a year ago, in the blaze of the Polar moonlight, I climbed
the liigh peak on the coast of Spencerland. I found the large
saxifrage in the sheltered valley, and I kissed it for her I and
wlieu 1 gained the summit of the black rock, where no mortal
foot bad ever stood before, I ear\'ed her name there with the spike
of my Alpenstock, and it is there stiU, ' EET,' and I thought I
should tell her of it some day, and of the peril I foolishly lared,
merely for the sake of putting that inscription there ! And after-
wards, on my solitary tramp over floes and hummocks, how often
I turned and looked back at the bald crag that bore her name.
" If she knew it she would go tbere, climb where I climbed, and
chop out my inscription with a tomahawk I
" I wonder if any other fellow has been prowling about here or
has met her in Essex \ By the three kings I that would be a jolly
lasiness. She don't know anybody here but DeVere and Callahan.
Is it possible that a puppy so unmitigated as DeVere could catch
^r fancy f Pooh ! Pll not believe it. I cannot understand why
I am not more demoralized, unless it is because she said ' Never I
never!' when I suggested matrimony. If she had a liking for
^^7 other man she is the soul of truth and would have said so ;
and I would cut his throat ! It is not that.
" One of two things must needs be true. I have cancelled the
possibilities on the two sides all but these :
* *' First, she must have been so devoted to Jack that the thought
^ marrying again is utterly abhorrent to her. Let us try that
illation I Jack, poor boy, was not the sort of fellow to awaken
^ undying attachment. He was handsome, brave, truthful, indo-
lent, and selfish. I may say so to myself alone, for I loved him.
He thought he was madly in love, but he wasn't. Had he loved
^er he could not have gotten into the toils of those shallow knaves.
parson Johnny has told me enough to satisfy me that her married
We was not happy. How did she come to marry him ? Well, he
^^ handsome, impetuous, was endorsed by Lord and Lady Mor-
^D, aij^ ^^ ^jyj fancy free. The marriage was very natural, and
160 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
the subsequent repentance natural, too. I dismiss that proposi-
tion, therefore. It is not that.
" Second, for some sufficient reason she must hate me. What
have I done or said ? Could she, in her Harwood pride, resent my
interference in that gambling business *? Ko doubt Parson Johnny
has told her, as I blabbed very freely to him; otherwise she
could not have known about Bottomry and DeVere. When she
was discussing the payment of that money her eyes flashed like
the Cossack spear-heads when Jack and I rode dowu upon them !
Oh, what eyes I and she keeps a lot of tears just under the lids to
drown a fellow after she has scorched him pretty nearly to death,
and beguiled him into a love declaration I But she is too sensible
to hate me for that, and if I had allowed her to squander all that
money in repayment the resentment would have died for lack of
fuel. I dismiss that proposition also. It is not that.
*' I wonder if I am conceited enough to think myself invincible!
It was not conceit that prompted my sudden avowal just now.
She looked so charming, and I have waited so long ! It has been
almost four years since I saw her, and I have been courting her
diligently, in my thoughts, which no mortal could know, and I
was foolish enough to think she might know with her quick wit.
And there is that darling baby ! I mtLst have Kellie ! She said
this morning, ''Oo may kiss me, for I love oo; but your beard
'cratches me !" I did kiss her, and Eet will kiss her, not knowing
that she is so near to kissing me. It is a very unsatisfactory sort
of proxy business, but it is better than none.
" My lady, do you think you have done with me f^ and here he
spoke through his set teeth. *^ If you do, you are greatly mis-
taken I But I must wait. If I had been allowed to select the
circumstances of our late encounter I could not have arranged
matters better. I leave her with a very plain declaration of love.
She dismisses me with a very clear declaration of hostilities. I have
these deeds, and I intend to fix them so that she cannot discover
anything more than she has already guessed about the Lacy in-
heritance. If she insists upon paying that Bottomry money she
may do it. It is all one. Kellie will get it anyhow. Since I sailed
with Spencer my income has accumulated, and I am no poorer to-
day for that outlay ; and then she will remember that interview,
and when she reflects upon her cruel words she will repent ; and
if she begins to repent she will be vanquished ! But ru not have
her that way, either, by the three kings I She shall love me I
ANOTHER MONOLOGUE FEMININE. 161*
"And so Fll be off again to salt water. One day with Parcli-
ment, that is to-morrow, and then Fll take the first ship I can find.
Where shall I go f
^^ Porto Eico first. I must get some sugar. I have a half
promise to Mrs. Dawson. Besides I want some for myself. These
grocery rascals sophisticate their wares, and it will be jolly fun to
watch all the manipulations, and to be certain of the purity of one
hogshead at least. Then I shall go to Cuba. I want cigars, and
I intend to see them made with my own eyes. I'll get a lot for
Parson Johnny, too.
" There is Lavington, Eoland ; you sleek old villain, I am going
to give you a long rest. I have three or four hours before train
time for a bath, a dry suit, a letter to Parson Johnny and a
smoke! Ah, Eet, my love I The prospect of leaving thee is
appalling ! But when I see thee again I shall leave thee no more,
and I leave thee now only to be more sure of thee when I return.'^
OHAPTEE XXIX.
Another Monologue Feminine.
WHEN Lady Lacy parted from Swiss so abruptly she ran
into her chamber and locked the door. She threw her hat
and shawl aside, and as she passed the window she saw Barston
leading Eoland from under the arch. She was a little shocked, as
it was no part of her intention to send him away in the rain, and
while she tried to think of a pretext for detaining him, he twisted
his hand in Eoland's mane and vaulted into the saddle. He
passed her window like a flash, giving her a glimpse of his grave
face as she drew back behind the curtain. It struck her suddenly
that he was handsome. Then she saw the mocking face of Mr.
Butler peeping out of the dripping ivy, and it occurred to her that
ie was hideous. Then, as the tramp of the galloping horse died
away, she sat down and cried.
Of course I
You know how it is, reader. It makes no difference whether
you are gemtle or not.
"It is perfectly outrageous!" she began, clenching her little
hands until the nails imprinted themselves upon her palms.. " To
11
162 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
think that I, of all the women in the worUl, should have been sub-
jected to such an affront I Oh, why did I not scratch his big eyes
out ! How dared ho do it !" and she sprang from her seat and
began to stride about the room. " I had almost forgotten about
his villainy when he began to talk about loving me. Mo !" here
she stamped viciously. " And it has only been a few hours since
I heard him making love to tbat brazen minx, poor Kitty I No
doubt he has been persecuting her with the voice of an angel and
the heart of a liend I Oh, how can he do it, the hypocrite I I
cannot bear to think of it ! What does that ugly wretch look so
satisfied for? It is his work, telling his horrid lies about gentle-
men ! Ah, me I I heard him myself I Oh, Lacy Barston, I have
no faith in mortal man! But that's a story! My Father and
Johnny are true as steel ! And Allen and Herbert ! And I have
been thinking these years that Lacy Barston was all that was
noble and good ! Ah ! the deceitful wretch ! to dare to talk to
me of marriage !
" If it had been possible for me ever to think of such a thing I
almost believe I could have learned to like this false villain I Oh,
how thankful I ought to be that he was unmasked so thoroughly!
" I declare I have no patience with Father's cool way of discuss-
ing the matter ! He seemed to think there was some satisfactory
explanation. Oh, these men ! Didn't I hear him f As she
passed the mirror she paused and glanced at the reflection of
matchless loveliness more lovely and attractive because of the
distress in face and attitude. " What can he see in Kitty, I won-
der 1 He is infatuated. Perhaps he is a lunatic ! A nice busi-
ness to ask me to marry a lunatic !" and here she cried a little
more.
" K he had not been thoroughly wicked he would never have
ridden off in the rain! How it does rain! He is such a tiger of a
man that he don't care for anything 1 I wonder what he will say
when I meet him again? How shall I tell Mother what he just
said to me? I cannot tell her! She would abhor him if she
knew, ril tell nobody 1
" And there's JSTellie, never tired of talking of him. He is not
content with a moderate amount of wickedness, but wants to steal
my child's heart. If I thought he really wished to marry Kitty 1
Oh, what an absurdity! he has never had such an, intention 1
There goes that ugly gamekeeper ! and he looks as triumphant
as Satan I You are a fine gentleman, Mr. Barston^ to choose such
ANOTHER MONOLOGUE FEMININE. 163
a rival as that! He is going to the housekeeper's room. I wish
Mrs. Froome would give him a regular dressing I If he is court-
ing Kitty 1 will get Father to give him more wages and let them
marry. It would be a triple kindness ! Certainly a kindness to
these two, and a mercy to that poor misguided man, who must be
lialf drowned by this time. Drowned I He canH be drowned.
-A.il, he don't know that I know of his exploit when we were at
tlie Smuggler's Cave I To think that he has actually saved my
life I Because John told me that he could never have caught the
loat, and when Mr. Barston got to him he was nearly exhausted!
came he there ? Was he watching over me f Oh, dear ! he
he ' relinquished ' me to John ! My head will burst if I think
^liy more about him !
** Mother did not seem at all shocked, though she was perplexed
ly father's story. She said, ^ ask Johnny ;' as if Johnny could ex-
Ilaiii away that dialogue I overheard in the conservatory. If he
^^^ild oh, if he could ! It wounds me so deeply to relinquish
^^y good opinion of John's cousin ! And then, if he never dared
^^ speak to me again of love, I might come to forgive him in
* ^ Did anybody ever see a man ride like this lunatic ? He bounded
^^oxn the ground as if he had wings on his feet, and tore away on
^h-^t mad beast like the Wild Huntsman! I almost expected his
^oirse to blow flames from his nostrils."
She poured some water in a basin and bathed her face, washing
^"Way the traces of tears. She moistened her handkerchief with
^^U de Cologne, and bound it round her temples. And she sat
^own to tliink.
*' Johnny says I don't reason, but * intuit ' things. Let me try
^^ne point at a time. That is the way these wise men do. First :
*^he gamekeeper's story. I believe he is really in love with Kitty,
^nd if so, jealousy is the next step. It comes easily. His first
charge related to Mr. Barston's meeting with Kitty on the Exeter
^oad. But !N"ellie was the attraction there, perhaps. ]N"aturally he
as eager to see JohrCs child, and Kitty's story of that encounter
^as very straight and simple. He could not have made love
speeches with William listening. That is out of the question. So
ZButler probably told a story about that Then, if he told stories
^bout one thing he would do the same about another. I don't
Jliece a word of that rascal's story. Why did his face wear such
^ triumphant grin just now ? Shall I go ask Kitty ? ]N"ever !
164 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
never I'' and she drew herself up with haughty grace, while the
blood rushed to her cheeks and temples.
" Second : Can there be any explanation of what I heard in the
conservatory f He said, ' Kitty, you must come to Oakland and
live there.' And then he said something about wrecking her happi-
ness. He did not mention his happiness. Altogether he did not
talk like a man in love. The mere words may be explained, as
they were not enforced with tones. It was a far different tone he
used in the library just now, when ho said, ' he loved me with every
pulse of his heart I' If he had not been talking such foolishness,
his voice would have /oread me to believe him!'' and once more the
crimson hue overspread her face and neck.
" Suppose there had been no Kitty in the world, and be had
said all that to me ! What could I have said ? Alas I I cannot
tell. He is such an obstinate wretch that he would not have
listened to my objections. Of course such a thing is too absurd
to tbink of! A young, rich, handsome man, who knows every-
thing and can do anything he pleases, and who could marry almost
any girl in England, to throw himself away upon a poor widow !
Why, Clare Tamworth would be a more suitable match, a hundred
times ! And he could get her easily if he tried. I vow I will quit
thinking about him !
"I am glad we are going to Carlisle next week! Clare is set
upon that visit, and I am longing to get out of this neighbourhood
for a few weeks. And it is not probable that any persecutors will
follow us there, unless he should conclude to court Clare the per-
fidious wretch ! There, I am thinking of him again ! But it would
be so ridiculous to overhear him telling Clare that he loved her
* with every pulse of his heart !'
" The most reasonable thing to expect is, that Johnny will come
over here in a day or two, with some story in defence of his beloved
Swiss. If we can only get away before he does !
" But Mr. Barston is so devoted to l^ellie that he might come to
Carlisle to see her. Suppose I leave her here with Kitty ? That
would be a real sin, for if he had a clear field, me away, and nobody
to take care of that poor girl, nobody can tell what might be tho
consequences ! With that voice of his and those big eyes, that
look so honest and gentle and loving, that horrid man could delude
a saint !
"I don't think I can quit thinking about him. He shocked me
so dreadfully vrith his fierce way of talking that I am entirely
THE RECTOR EXPLAINS. 165
nnstrang. A pretty way he has of making love I To say such
dreadful cross things to a poor woman, and then to rush out of the
house and gallop off in that insulting manner. If I harboured
resentment, I should be delighted to hear that he had taken cold
and was dangerously ill. Ah I" she said, with a charming little
shudder, " how wicked I must be even to think of such a thing.
This is a fine return for saving my life !
" It seems like yesterday when this great giant was a boy and
full of boyish pranks, leading my brothers into mischief and
always standing between them and harm. I can recall a hundred
tricks, but not one unkindness, and no one ever accused him of
falsehood ; yet if these accusations were true, he would be both
cruel and false I What would Johnny say to such charges?
" What an irritable, ill tempered man he must be I Instead of
explaining his misbehaviour he must tear away in a towering rage,
and that after such violent professions of love and devotion. If
he ever dares to renew his professions I ^
CHAPTER XXX.
GtaE Eeotor Explains.
THE rector dined at Morton Priory on the day whose events
are recorded above. The rain continued far into the night,
and he, nothing loth, remained at his Father's house. Two days
after, he, with Lord and Lady Morton, were at the Eed Hall
whose inmates were busy with preparations for a visit to Scot-
land. Miss Tamworth appeared to have charge of all the arrange-
ments, and Lady Lacy was preoccupied and silent. Her languor
disappeared, however, when the rector suddenly said :
" I have a message for you, Ret, from Swiss."
" A message F
^^ Yes ; I have the letter here somewhere,'' and he fumbled in
various pockets. " Ah ! here it.is. I'll read what he says. TJm!
urn!"
" Read it all, John," said his mother.
" Oh, no ; Miss Tamworth might come in. Where is she. Ret?"
" In her own room. She is preparing for our journey to-morrow,
and will not be here for an hour."
" Well, then, Fll read it all. There are no secrets in it, but it
would look odd to Miss Clar
166 THELAGY DIAMONDS.
" ITever mind Clare,'' said Eet, snappishly ; " read while you
have the opportunity."
The rector looked at her with surprise, but obediently began to
read:
^^ ^ My dear Parson 'he's in London, you know that is, he
was. I^obody can tell where he is now. * My dear Parson, I have
two or three things to tell you to-night. First, about Kitty ^ "
" Ah I" said Lady Morton, '^ that is precisely what I am most
eager to hear."
" Indeed !" said the rector ; " what makes you so interested in
Kitty, Mother? Eet is the proper person to ^
** Will you please read the letter ?" said Eet, with perfect out-
ward composure.
"Certainly. Where was I? Oh! first about Etty. I must
stop here, Eet, to explain about Kitty ^Mother wishes to know.
Well, ma'am, Kitty was left to Swiss by her father."
" Left to Swiss I What rubbish are you talking, Parson ?" said
Lord Morton.
" It is all right, sir. When old Willis was in his last illness I
sent Swiss to see him. Ah, if you only knew how Swiss can talk !
The old man told me afterwards that he was an angel I And he
told the truth only Swiss is better than an angel ?"
" John, how dare you talk in that fashion !"
" Far better, Mother. An angel cannot have human sympathy,
and Swiss is filled with it. An angel could not make any man or
woman love him to distraction, and Swiss can."
" Includiug Kitty f said Lady Morton quietly.
Ma'am I"
" I say, has he inspired Kitty with this distracting attachment?"
" I don't know what you mean. Mother. Swiss is a gentleman,
and it would not occur to him to try his powers of fascination
upon Kitty Willis."
" Indeed I WeU, sir, that is just what is said of him."
" Who is responsible for the slander ?" replied the rector hotly.
" Mother, you did not believe it, surely !"
"I have suspended my judgment in the case until I could hear
from you. Your Father said he would ask you."
" I forgot it," said Lord Morton. " The story is a short one,
Parson. The gamekeeper, Butler, told me that Mr. Barston was
persecuting Kitty with his attentions ^
" Attentions 1" said his son, aghast. " My dear Father, how
THE BEGTOR EXPLAINS. 1G7
could you be deluded by so monstrous a story ^ Kilty is a good
girl and is good looking 5 but Lacy Barston, the scholar, th6
accomplished gentleman, the bright Christian humble as any,
yet more haughty in his ancestral pride than
* Haughty Gunhilda's haupjhtier lord 1'
Eeally, I am ashamed to discuss so absurd a proposition. The
man is an ass or a rascal ! Here, listen to Swiss : ' First, about
Kitty. I saw her three or four times, and urged her to take the
housekeeper's place at Oakland. The old woman with whom she
has lived so long would also take some position there, to shelter
the girl from evil tongues. I had a long talk with Butler, and
almost concluded to withdraw my opposition, when I remembered
her father's earnest appeal to me to watch over his orphan child.
Johnny, I am afraid Butler is bad wholly bad. I fancy he is a
man of good blood and I fear he has lost his place in society by the
commission of some horrible crime, I must tell vou the whole
truth, and I do it most reluctantly. I have nothing to support my
opinion but vague instincts, yet when I challenged him to unfold
his past, he put me off with dreadful words about his father, whose
very memory he abhors. Yet with all this distrust and repug-
nance I am strangely drawn to this miserable man, whose life I
saved at sea. He almost cursed me for doing it I ]N"ow that I am
away, I pray you investigate this case. If your mother or sister,
or both, would undertake it, out of pure compassion for a mother-
less girl, it would be far safer in their hands. In my clumsy
efforts to aid and shelter her I have made her hate the very sight
of me, and I have positively failed to accomplish any good. If I
had any influence over her it is lost ' "
He was interrupted by his sister, who rose from her seat and
pointed throufi^h the window at a man on the lawn. It was
Butler.
" It seems to me. Father, that your gamekeeper should make
some explanation, and he happens to be here. No time like the
present." She spoke with composure^ though her face was flushed
and her little hands clenched. The wrong she had done in her
thoughts to poor Swiss filled her with sorrow, and with her re-
pentance she remembered the diabolical grin she had seen on
Butler's face when Barston, laden with her reproaches, left Lacy
Keep.
" Yes," answered her Father promptly, and passing through the
window tie held up his finger to the gamekeeper, who approached
at his signal.
168 THE^ LA GY DIAMONDS,
" Mr. Barston has explained all that was mysterious about his
interviews with Kitty, and your insinuations were false.'' This
was said with severe dignity, and Johnny expected to see the other
confused and apologetic.
"Indeed!" replied Butler, with a sneer. "Your lordship is
easilj'^ satisfied. Or, perhaps, you may think this gay young
gentleman is justifiable in filling a poor young girl's mind with
wrong notions."
" What do you mean, man !" replied Lord Morton ; " do you
persist in charging this gentleman with wicked intentions ^
" That is as your lordship pleases," said Butler coolly. " I have
told no lies, and I am as incapable of that vice as your lord-
ship ^"
" How dare you !" said Lady Lacy, suddenly appearing at her
father's side. The gamekeeper removed his hat, yet returned her
haughty glance without wincing.
^^ Your ladyship will pardon me," he said, " but I do not under-
stand. I am on my defence, it seems, yet I do not yet know whom
I have offended." '
" Go in, Eet," said Lord Morton. " Butler, I would not do you
an injustice, yet you have done a foul wrong in this matter.
Had I not known Mr. Barston so well I should have been misled
by your cunning story. I can make allowance for jealousy "
" Pooh!" said Butler. " Excuse me, my lord. I cannot be held
responsible for your inferences. Mr. Barston has been very offi-
cious in his interference with my affairs ^
" Speak with respect of your superiors, sir."
" I do not recognize them in Mr. Barston or his associates, such
as Mr. DeYere. If your lordship is displeased I will retire. I
have no apology to offer for anything I have said or done."
" I give you warning to quit my service ^"
" No warning necessary, my lord," responded the other. " I am
paid up to yesterday and I will vacate your premises to-night.
Will Lady Lacy allow me to say a word to her nurse ?"
Lord Morton turned into the room, but Eet was gone.
" There is no reason for denying you if she is disengaged," said
Lady Morton. " If you apply to the housekeeper she will inform
Kitty that you ^ish to see her. I think it would be right, how-
ever, to say what you have to say in Mrs. Froome's presence."
" 1 do not object, madame," said Butler. " I only wish to ex-
plain to Kitty my changed relations, and the cause. I also wish to
TBE LETTER. 169
be the first to announce her deliverance from i)ersecntion. Ha!
ha ! pardon me, your reverence, but I cannot help laughing to
think how your zeal and Mr. Barston's have resulted."
** I wish you would come to the Eectory to-morrow,'' said the
rector gently. " If you will allow me to befriend you and Kitty
it will give me great pleasure. There are things you might say
to me that you would not reveal to others ^
" You mean, to explain * my antecedents,' as the Yankees say ?
Thank your reverence ! You are too low church in your views to
favour the confessional. K I go into that business I will apply to
Father Tom, who will probably let me off more lightly."
' What a devil the man is I" sighed the rector, as the otber
passed out of sight around the angle of the house.
" Swiss is right," said Lady Morton, decidedly. " This man is
well born and has been driven by crime from his proper station.
I think, also, he is wholly bad ! Herbert, my dear, I thank you
for dismissing him. Where is Eet ?"
OHAPTEE XXXI,
The Letter.
w
'HEN Lady Lacy returned to the room from the terrace in
obedience to her father's command, her mother and brother
were standing in the window, interested in the discussion between
Lord Morton and Butler. She espied the open letter on the table,
and with the superb grace of a tigress she noselessly caught it up,
and after glancing hurriedly at the others, she silently passed out
of the room. Gaining her chamber she locked the door, and fall-
ing on her knees upon a low ottoman under the window, she
spread out the sheets on the table and began to read. It is possi-
ble, and under the circumstances not indecorous, for the gentle
reader to peep over her shai)ely shoulder. Although the rector
has already read a portion of the letter, it will be more satisfac-
tory to the reader, probably, to have it all together.
London, lat May.
My deab Pabson:
I have two or three things to tell you to-night. First, about Kitty.
I saw her three or four times, and urged her to take the house-
170 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
keeper's place at Oakland. The old womau with whom she has lived
so long would also take some position there to shelter the girl
from evil tongues. I had a long talk with Butler, and almost
concluded to withdraw my opposition, when I remembered her
father's earnest appeal to me to watch over his orphan child.
Johnny, I am afraid Butler is bad wholly bad. I fancy he is a
man of good blood, and I fear he has lost his place in society by
the commission of some terrible crime. I must tell you the whole
truth, and I do it most reluctantly. I have nothing to support my
opinion but vague instincts. Yet when I challenged him to unfold
his past, he put me off with doubtful words about his father, whose
very memory he abhors ! Yet, with all this distrust and repug-
nance, I am strangely drawn to this miserable man, whose life I
saved at sea. He almost cursed me for doing it. I^ow that I am
away, I pray you investigate this case. If your mother or sister,
or both, would undertake it out of pure compassion for a mother-
less girl, it would be far safer in their hands. In my clumsy efforts
to aid and shelter her I have made her hate the very sight of me,
and I have positively failed to accomplish any good. If I had any
influence over her it is lost, and I begin to think I am a general
failure. Perhaps if she is in love with this fellow she may be able
to control him, and deliver him from evil habits, and all my obsti-
nate interference may have been so much resistance to the orderly
march of beneficent Providence.
"iiTevertheless, I cannot shake off the responsibility her father
put upon me, except by transferring it to the excellent ladies I
have named. If they will assume the trust, my cares are at an
end. Use your eloquence. Parson, in Kitty's behalf.
The second matter relates to Lady Lacy. When I saw her last
we had some controversy, touching transfers of certain property.
Will you please deliver this message ? Tell her I hold to every
word I said to her with a tenacity as relentless as death. There
is nothing possible or conceivable in the events of Providence
that can change any part of my opinions or desires as related to
her. Yet I cannot contend with her, and will obey her commands
as accurately as possible. The title to the Lacy lands now
stands in her, with no chance of litigation as against her, except
such litigation should be begun by Lacy Barston. If she insists
upon this litigation, I beg to refer her to Mr. Alfred Parchment
who is my solicitor, and her's also, I believe. You know, or rather
she knows, that the whole question rests upon the interpretation
of the will of Sir Harold Lacy three generations old.
THE LETTER. Itl
" Speaking as a lawyer, I should say here that a serious obsta-
cle in the way of settlement is found in the diflftculty of proving
Elbeii; Lacy's deatb. While I have no doubts on that point, it would
still be proper to demand security from any holder of the Lacy
lands who should propose a transfer of title. My title depends
solely upon the extinction of the Lacy line, and I cannot eject her
by legal process until I prove the line extinct. To do this I must
prove Elbert dead, which would be (legally) both difficult and
expensive. As a matter of pure economy, I prefer leaving her
in peaceable possession.
'* Another point relates to certain money transactions between
Sir John Lacy and Lacy Barston. I am the holder of a mortgage
upon the Eed Hall and lands for ten thousand pounds. It was
transferred to me by Mr. Bottomry. Parchment would not allow
me to cancel this mortgage two or three years ago^^as I desired,
and if your sister still wishes to pay it, I am bound in common
honesty to warn her that the document is defective, as Sir John
had no (legal) right to transfer, while his elder brother's death
was unproven.
"Still another point relates to other money transactions, for
which I have no legal vouchers. It pains me no little to recur to
these matters, but my lady is obdurate, and noblesse oblige. I will
make a fair statement of these when I return, and will abide by
her decision.
" When I return I I cannot now say when this will be. I am
writing in the cabin of the Dixie, a side wheel steamer that will
go down the river an hour hence, bound for * !N'assau and a mar-
ket.' She is laden with sundry commodities very much in demand
in the southern half of the Disunited States, and is commanded by
Frank Hazard, who was Spencer's first oflacer and my good friend.
I am only a passenger this time. I expect to investigate the con-
dition of affairs in the Confederate States, as the Dixie thinks of
going to Charleston for the market which may not be found at
Nassau. She also thinks of returning with a cargo of cotton, if
the blockade of the southern ports is not too strong. Some one
has asserted to me that New Orleans sugar is better than that
from Porto Eico. I hope to satisfy myself by personal inspection
on this point. If I get into the Southern States and out again
with a whole skin, I purpose a short visit to the West India
Islands. Cuba for cigars, mainly for you and your father, and
Porto Eico for sugar, mainly for Mrs. Dawson and her landlord.
It 2 TEE LACY DIAMONDS.
" By the bye, Johnnj^, please ride Eoland down to Eipple occa-
sionally and look after the old lady a little. Eoland knows the
way. And give Tommy an occasional half crown ; it is the tip
he expects from Eoland's rider. You will recognize Tommy by
his mouth. Nature has been bountiful to him in that regard, and
no animal except an alligator can rival him. K you tell Mrs.
Dawson you love me, she will give you a curd of astounding
elegance.
" And now, dear friend, I am admonished by the noises above
my head that my time is nearly up. I also hear the singing of
the steam, and Hazard tells me the last boat will quit the ship in
half an hour. You will wonder what strange freak has taken me
away from England. I cannot explain to you now, though I may
do so hereafter. I will only say that I have been nourishing a
scheme for many years, looking to the acquisition of a certain pos-
session more valuable than all my inheritance. I thought I was
tolerably near the attainment, but have suddenly learned that I
must wait I cannot tell how long. But I am resolved to pursue
this object until I die, unless it shall be revealed to me that sin is
in the pursuit. It does not seem so to me now. If yon were to
ask me how I fell into so egregious a blunder as to think I was
near possession, I cannot tell you. I do not know. It is myste-
rious, perplexing, humiliating. And my restless spirit longs for
the restless sea.
" When I get upon blue water my mind is usually clear. At
present I am stunned, stupefied as one who has been feeding upon
opium must feel. The course of Providence has been inscrutable
to me. Obstacles confronted me from the first inception of desire
for this prize, which has been the solitary object of my life, and
longed for with a passionate longing that is inexpressible. It is
so much a part of my life that I think my life would end if the
longing died. And as the stately march of Providence removed
the first obstacle, a second, more insurmountable, took its place,
and compelled my acquiescence. I thought it was gone forever,
but I was mistaken, and when this also was taken away it seemed
to wrench from me memory, consciousness, hope, faith, and all
tbe attributes of manhood. Then I fled to the sea again, and on
its broad bosom I found peace at last and the old hope revived.
It would avail nothing to tell you what new plans I laid, and how
I api)roached with steadfast steps the attainment once more. It
was too soon, and the coveted possession, almost within my grasp
as I thought^ eluded me.
THE LETTER. 173
" And as I go forth again, with a purposeless energy that seems
akin to madness, I am only conscious of one unshaken determina-
tion, to hold fast to my pursuit, and wait.
" I am upheld in this resolve by the profound conviction that
the prayers of my whole lifetime cannot be wasted. And the suc-
cess which I shall win at last will fully atone for all the disap-
I)ointments I have hitherto endured.
" Anchor atrip I Farewell, dear Mend.
"Laot Baeston.^
As she read the concluding lines Lady Lacy covered her face
with her hands, and while the tears dropped through her slender
fingers upon the open letter she murmured :
"Oh dear I oh dear I what shall I do! He thinks me cruel,
heartless, proud, unreasonable, and yet he loves me, he loves
meP
Later in the day the rector applied to his sister, with troubled
countenance, for consolation.
" Bet,'' he said, " I walked down to the Dark Wood since Butler
was here, and I have lost Barston^s letter ! I am sure I thrust it
in my pocket when that fellow was talking to Father, and then I
forgot all about it until I returned from my walk. I have turned
all my pockets inside out! I have been down to the Wood again,
but it^s gone ! There was a long message to you in it I"
"Can you not remember it?'' she answered, with deceitful com-
posure.
" !N'oI It was something about title deeds and law matters, and
there was a great lot of bosh in it about some wild goose chase
upon which he has set his heart. I thought you might help me
to understand what the lunatic is driving at. FU go back to the
Wood and take another hunt for it."
" Very well, Johnny,'' said Eet, sympathetically. " K you fail
to find it you can tell me the main points, and I can guess the
rest. Make haste back."
And when the perplexed rector passed through the ruined arch,
on his hopeless errand, the heartless vixen drew the letter from
her bosom and nefariously kissed it I
Gentle reador, these feminine characters give an enormous
amount of trouble. One may honestly endeavour to describe
their tricks, but their motives are beyond human scrutiny.
114 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
CHAPTER XXXII.
Glare's Sympathy.
SO little has been said hitherto about Miss Clare Tamworth,
that the reader must be somewhat doubtful about her men-
tal exercises, as she has kept so quiet and undemonstrative. It is
possible that Lady Lacy has a positive identity in the minds
of all who have patiently read the foregoing pages. In the hoi)e
that his duty as a faithful chronicler has been discharged in her
case, the author leaves her to work out her natural destiny, while
a little more direct attention is bestowed upon her chosen friend
and companion.
The playful accusation of our friend Swiss was founded upon
fact. This amiable young lady was lover proof. Barston had
really met with two or three doleful swains in London, whose best
powers of fascination had been tried upon Miss Tamworth in vain.
One of them, the Viscount Lappermilk, was specially discomfited.
He was an Oxford man, and Barston had beMended him there
in his hopeless digging among Greek roots, and won his grati-
tude and confidence, and he unbosomed himself over a dinner at
the club in this wise :
" Miss Tamworth, Swiss, is a wegular stunnah ! She has lots of
tin, too. Don't twy for it, oP fellah, you cawnt go in and win. I
twied ; and weally, I got so spoony that I forgot the tin. But she
is equally beyond the weach of delibewate appwoaches or the pas-
sionate wush. I twied both."
Although Lord Lappermilk was himself rather impecunious, he
was the son and heir of an earl, and would inherit a very fine
estate some day, and Swiss frankly told him that he should waste
no energies in pursuing so coy a damsel. " She has won honour
enough, Lappermilk," he said, " in throwing you over. I shall not
give her the chance to repeat the exploit upon me."
'^ She did not exactly throw me ovah !" replied the Viscount.
" When I made the wush she said it was pwetty , and she had wead
it in a book. I assured her that I spoke my weal sentiments and
was wegular spoony, and she wung the bell and told the flunkey
to ' bwing Lord Lappermilk a glass of iced water.' As she chose
to take it in that way I thought I would not pwess the mattah.
But she is without a heart, Swiss."
GLARE'S SYMPATHY, lt6
To disprove this slander is the purpose of the present chapter.
When the Eeverend John Harwood started for the Dark Wood the
second time, he met Miss Tam worth near a belt of shrubbery be-
yond the ruined arch.
" My dear Miss Clare,'' he said, " I have lost a letter that I am
most anxious to recover."
" Can I aid you in your search ?" said she.
"Yes I Perhaps you may find it in the shrubbery. I think I
passed through this edge of it as I went to the Wood. I am going
back there. It is from Swiss.''
* Where is he ?" inquired Miss Tamworth. " I miss him dread-
fully."
" He is on the sea by this time," answered the rector, with a
pang of jealousy. " K you are so much interested in him I am
glad he is gone I"
"On the sea! What unexplored regions does he seek this
time ?"
" I think he is going among the Yankees, It is some sort of
piratical expedition. The letter tells, if we can only find it. I'll
be back in fifteen minutes," and he walked hastily away.
When she entered the little grove of evergreens Miss Tamworth
diligently examined the ground at each step without finding the
lost letter. It is not probable that her search would have been
successful if she had examined every square inch of the plantation.
She w4s slightly startled to see Butler standing in the path when
she raised her eyes. Kitty was just disappearing in the direction
of the Hall.
" Will Miss Tamworth do me the great kindness to listen five
minutes ^"
" Not here, certainly," replied she, as she turned to follow Kitty.
"I beg your pardon," persisted Butler, "if you will look across
the fence here you will see the gardener within call. .What I say
to you must be said secretly if at all I"
" What do you vrish F said Clare, with calm dignity.
" I wish you to believe me. First of all, I am a gentleman of good
name and the rightful owner of a fair inheritance. I can offer
you no proof but this ;" and he pulled off his leather glove an
stretched out his hand, white and small, with long tapering fingers-
" I thought I might rely upon the instinct of a well-bred lady to
recognize one of her own class even in this disguise." This was
said with steady composure. " I was Lord Morton's gamekeeper
116 THE LAGY DIAMONDS.
an hour ago, but have been dismissed, mainly because I intend to
marry yonder girU'
" Kitty Willis f said Miss Tamworth. " You surprise me. I
know nothing about the matter. Supposing you are telling the
truth about your own station, which I do not dispute, I cannot
see the propriety of the match you propose. It is not probable
that your family ^
"I am thankful to say that I am alone in the world. None of
my kindred, near enough to call for affectionate interest, remain
upon the face of the earth. Besides, the girl is better bred than
you suppose. Anyhow, I am bound in honour to marry her, for I
promised when we were children a dozen years ago, and I have
never yet failed to redeem my word ; and she is dearer to me than
auy other woman can ever be. I only wanted to ask you to be
kind to her.''
" I am not aware that I have been unkind to her.''
" Far from it, madam. On the contrary, I am emboldened to
make this appeal to you because you have been specially kind. If
you will consider what is involved in orphanage and poverty at
least such measure of poverty as makes this place and her wages
important to her and think of the torture inflicted by mistaken
kindness on the part of the rector and hisLfriend, Mr. Barston ^^
" I cannot imagine what you are talking about,'' said Clare, im-
petuously 5 " What do you mean by saying these things F
" I mean that her pastor thinks the discharged gamekeeper is
not good enough for her, and tells her so. I mean that Mr. Bar-
ston told her two days ago that I was a brute, and unfit to marry
any decent girl ; and I mean that I would rely more upon your
gentle charity and your quick wit to shield her while I am absent
than upon anything else. Mr. Barston ^
" Will not trouble you or Kitty very soon. He has gone on a
piratical expedition."
" What say you 1" said the other, a paleness overspreading his
face. " What horrible words are these 1"
" I suppose it was only the .rector's joke," she said, a little
shocked at the effect of her words ; " but Mr. Barston has really
sailed for America."
" On board the Diode^ I'll be sworn 1 Do you know, Miss Tarn-
worth, that I should have sailed in that ship if she had delayed
hey departure only one more day ? and finding Barston aboard, I
swear I would have scuttled the ship to get finally rid of him !
CLARIPS SYMPATHY. 117
What a narrow escape for us both 1 for I cannot quarrel with
Barston, for two weighty reasons 5 one, he saved my life once ^^
" And the other F said Clare, as he paused.
"IS^o matter about the other; one is sufficient. lam greatly
relieved to know he is out of England. Miss Tamworth, I thank
you for your kindness in listening to me. I ask no promise from
you 5 I only remark that I desire to remain unknown and unsus-
pected for the present, and only you and Kitty know that I am
anything more than Butler the drunken gamekeeper. If you could
be told all of my story I should be certain of your sympathy.'' He
brushed his hand across his eyes as he spoke. '^ How much of my
present distress is due to my own misconduct, and how much to
the flagrant wrong doings of others, 1 cannot say, and you would
hardly care to hear. Adieu, madam. It is not probable that we
shall ever meet again I" and suddenly opening a wicket in the
fence and crossing the garden, he passed from her sight forever.
" Poor man I'' said Clare ; " this is decidedly romantic. He
must be a gentleman, or else the prince of dissemblers ! Anyhow,
I sympathize with him in his distress, and will keep his secret. I
shall have opportunities to question Kitty when we get to Carlisle.
I must also find out why the rector takes so deep an interest in
Kitty. Here he comes, without his letter." As Mr. Harwood
approached she recommenced her search, flitting in and out among
the trees like a well grown bird of paradise.
" How kind of you," said Parson Johnny as he joined her, " to
hunt for that tiresome letter. " Never mind it ; some one will find
it, probably, and return it."
"Mr. Butler was here just now," replied Clare, "and I saw
Kitty also, just after you left me."
" Indeed 1 Well, if they should happen to read it they will
scarcely approve of all Barston's sentiments. He speaks of them
both in it."
" Do you remember what he says F
"Yes; that is, I remember the general drift of his remarks.
Swiss thinks Butler is a scamp, and so do I. He confronted my
Father to-day in a manner that was rather insolent, considering
his station. Swiss thinks that the fellow is better bred, than he
appears."
" So do I," answered Miss Tamworth.
" Tou do? well, that settles it. But Barston also fears^that he
has committed some crime by which he lost caste. He will not
12
178 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
allow any one to question him about the past. I noticed that yo^
called him Mr. Butler just now."
" Did I ? He reminds me of some one I have known, but I c^*^*
not tell whom. What does Mr. Barston say of Kitty f"
" A great deal. He knew her father, and has always takei^ ^
great interest in her. Butler is courting her indeed they are ^^
far agreed that they will marry, no doubt. This makes us ea^^^
to know more about him for the girl's sake.'^
" Probably you had better let them alone. Here is Bet j let "t^^
ask her. Eet, what do you think of Butler f
" I think he is a rascal. I was looking for you. The dressin^T
bell has just rung. Come in.^
" You Harwoods are a hard hearted, suspicious, obstinate set,''
said Clare impetuously. I believe Butler is a good sort of man,
and if he wants to marry Kitty I mean to help him. There ! You
need not look so astounded. 1 have been allowing you to have
your own way so long that you are well nigh ruined. When we
get to Carlisle I am going to conspire with Kitty to circumvent
you. Come on, Eef
" Did you find your letter, Johnny F asked Lady Lacy, as they
entered the hall. "Well, never mind it, dear.'^
CHAPTER XXXIII.
Two Years Later.
THE events which have happened during this unrecorded in-
terval do not affect the course of the present narrative mate-
rially. After various adventures Mr. Barston found himself in New
York at the end of two years, and secured passage to Liveri^ool by
the Royal Mail Steamer Scotia. The only circumstance to notice was
his accidental meeting with a countryman in Kew York, one John
Hawder, whom he had known in his boyhood. Hawder's father
was steward of the Lacy estates, and the younger Hawder had
emigrated to America several years before. He was a widower
and had a child, born in the new country, and the sight of our
friend Barston was a bright spot in their dull lives. From
Hawder he learned that Mr. Butler, whom he recognized by his
description, had been in New York a year or two previously, in-
TWO YEARS LATER. 179
dulging in evil habits without stint. Barston hoped to learn
something of his early history from Hawder, but he knew only
some fragmentary portions of his story that did not enlighten
Barston, but rather confirmed him in his distrust of the game-
keeper. Hawder was about starting to take charge of a farm in
the interior of Kew Jersey, and knowing that Swiss would see his
kindred in Lavington, he gave him a post-office address to leave
with them. Barston rarely forgot anything, and this address was
useful to him later.
Shortly after Barston's departure from England Lady Lacy and
her friend, Miss Tamworth, went to Paris, thence to Switzerland,
where they spent the summer. There was no intelligence from
Mr. Barston for nearly two years. He was in the Confederate
States a lai'ge part of the time, and postal communication with
the outside world was attended with difficulties. He finally
escaped in a blockade-runner, bound for Nassau, but being chased
by Federal cruisers, was driven into the Gulf, and finally found
shelter in Kingston, Jamaica. Mr. Barston being unoccupied,
assisted in the ceremonies attending three tornadoes and one
small earthquake, and then sailed for Port Eico. Here he in-
vested some sovereigns in sugar, which was duly shipped to
London, and forwarded thence to Lavington. The rector received
a brief letter from his friend, who wrote very hurriedly on the eve
of his departure for Kew York, and only advised him of this ship-
ment, and requested him to have two barrels filled from the hogs-
head, sending one to the Eed Hall, with his compliments, to Lady
Lacy, and the other to Eipple Farm. He promised to write at
length from New York, but as he sailed by the first mail steamer
after his arrival he did not fulfil his- promise.
One bright morning the Eeverend John Harwood was caught
round the waist on the main street of Lavington by a stalwart
man, with bright eyes and enormous beard, rudely shaken up and
actually hugged, to the great astonishment of two small boys,
pupils in the rector's Sunday school, who had just been patted on
their heads and made recipients of sixpence each.
" My dear, dear Parson !" said Swiss, " my heart is filled with
joy at seeing you once more I''
^ Welcome home, my dear Swiss,'' answered the rector warmly,
" I am truly happy to see you again. When do you embark, and
for what x)ortf'
"I have done with the sea, Johnny. Havc ^o\3l ^\i^ ^i:Jv^\s^fta^
and 'bread at your house 1 I am famishing ^\\k \m.\i^'et?
180 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
" That is jolly I I have not had breakfast yet. Come on !
heard the train just now, but did not hope for this pleasure. -
am forlorn here now. Father is in London, Eet is in Scotland,
If your next ship does not sail for two days you can get a glimpse
of them all."
" Get out with your quips, Parson,'' returned Swiss. " I tell
you I meditate no new flights. My confident expectation is tc
spend the rest of my days on this blessed island. You ought ta
be above assaulting a starving man. Do you know whether you:
have any chops in your larder f
"Certainly, plenty of them! Soyez tranquille! Within ten.
minutes your cravings shall be appeased. Where is your next
ship going f '
. " To Kamschatka I I want a chaplain, and will take you. Here
is the rectory. Have you got a rectoress yet ? Why have you
not written to me these years "? How d'ye do, Bridget F
"Wilcome home, Mr. Lacy," said that hard featured female.
" The master tould me yees was coming, and ye'U find your room
in order. Breakfast is all ready, sir."
Mr. Barston, who was entirely humanized within an hour, plied
the rector with questions. The Eipple Farm people were prosi)erous
and unchanged, except that Tommy had increased in stature. Mr.
Harwood had been there about once a week, and usually partook
of curds. Mrs. Dawson had received her sugar and the Eei Hall
barrel had been forwarded, but Lady Lacy and her household
were at Stirling. Kellie had grown, and being petted by three
uncles and two grandparents, was totally ruined, but more charm-
iug than ever. Miss Tamworth was still unmarried, and, in the
Parson's judgment, was a confirmed man-hater. Lady Lacy was
iu excellent health, but wore habitually the chastened expression
that came with her widowhood. Johnny's profound conviction
was, that poor Eet's heart was buried in the cemetery of the Lacys.
Swiss thought he would try to dig it up, but was somewhat dis-
comfited by the rector's gloomy views,
Mr. Butler had been remarkably erratic in his movements. He
had disappeared for a year or more, very soon after Barston sailed
in the Dixie. Then he had been visible again in Lavington, and
was usually attired in well made gentleman's costume. His habits
were possibly better. The rector had met him once or twice and
endeavoured to converse with him, but pumped nothing better
than monosyllables fix)m him. About Kitty he positively declined
to talk at ail.
TWO YEABS LATER. 181
Kitty was a model of propriety and reticence. All the efforts
Mr. Harwood had made to ascertain the state of her mind had
been unavailing. She listened with great politeness and atten-
tion to his moral essays, but declined to criticise them. Lady
Morton and Eet had talked very kindly to her, and she expressed
great thankfulness, but did not say a word as to her intentions.
Miss Tamworth steadfastly opposed this kind interference, and
the rector said " She patted Kitty on the back, in a figurative
' sense, and in a most exasperating manner.''
" The truth is, Swiss," said the rector, " I am beginning to think
that we have no right to annoy this girl any more. K she is not
able to take care of herself I am very much mistaken. Mother
says it is indecorous to proceed any further."
^^That settles the point, Parson," answered S\^iss; "you a.re ^
always in peril when you run counter to the views of a good
woman. And in this special case Lady Morton is doubtless the
best judge. Did this fellow look like a gentleman ?"
" 1 think he did and does. I cannot forget that he filled a sub-
ordinate position in my Father's household, yet his manner is per-
fectly unaffected and natural. There is a certain roughness in his
demeanour which might pass for eccentricity if one knew him to
be thoroughbred. He has not been educated, I think. In one of
my talks with him I quoted a line from Virgil, familiar to any
schoolboy, and he said, coolly, ^ I don't understand Latin.' If he
had not been of a good breed he would, perhaps, have concealed
his ignorance. My judgment is that he has been intractable and
violent in his youth, refusing to submit to lawful authority, and
has grown up to manhood without restraints, and is now hardened.
He talks grammatically and with a good selection of words usually,
though at times he indulges in regular sea lingo, as if that were
his native tongue. Altogether the man bothers me horribly."
" I am delighted to hear it," said Barston, " and assure you of
my genuine sympathy. 1 have never before encountered a man
who was able to keep me in constant suspense as to his status.
But 1 feel authorized to withdraw from the contest, and shall in-
terfere with him no more. Indeed, if his habits are passably
decent, it will afford me great pleasure to aid him in any way, for
Kitty's sake. It would not be a kindness to help him to ruin."
" What have you been doing, Swiss, in these two years "?"
" A multitude of things, my friend. I have been in many hos-
pitals, trying to comfort wounded, sick and dying men. I have
182 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
been allowed to take last messages to bereaved wives and mothers.
I have learned many lessons of heroic endurance, the like of which
I shall never see again on earth. 1 could not fully appreciate the
sentiments of the men who resolutely faced untold horrors and
who nourished a constant expectation of final success in the very
face of death. Our fellows in the Crimea did about as good fight-
ing as men could do, but there was no such manifestation of de-
votion to a sentiment there. You have told me nothing about
Eoland.^'
*' The old rascal defies the march of time. He is here, ready
for a gallop whenever you please.''
" I will renew my acquaintance with him. I must go to Eipple
this morning. We'll lunch on curds. Returning, I invite you to
dine with me at Oakland ^
" I accept.''
*^ GDhen at nine-twenty I purpose taking the up train ^
" Are you mad, Swiss ?"
" Sane, parson. But I must travel to-night."
" Whither F
" Towards the bleak north. To Stirling I I am dying for a
sight of Kellie ! You will please give me full directions where to
look for the child ^
" Better than that, my friend. I will go with you I I, also, am
dying to see ^Nellie !"
CHAPTER XXXIV.
Stirling.
AMOIS'G Miss Tamworth's possessions was a certain parcel of
land in the outskirts of Stirling. A few a^res, cut off from
a farm which yielded her a small rental, were devoted to a cottage
and the needful outhouses, all enclosed by a hedge and shaded by
stately trees. It is probable that she spent a few months here,
annually, only because of its proximity to the romantic scenery of
the lochs, and at the date of the present chapter she and Lady
Lacy were busily engaged in preparations for a visit to the
Trossachs, Loch Katrine, and possibly to Edinburgh. All this
country was new to Lady Lacy, and she looked forward to the
excursion with bright anticipations. The Wizard of the Korth
STIRLINO. 183
has invested all that portion of Her Majesty's dominions with
special interest, and Eet studied with great eagerness the map of
their projected journeys, noticing the succession of historic locali-
ties, and promising herself unmixed pleasure at every step of
their progress. Later in the autumn they were to spend a month
at Clifton, where Miss Clare professed to live, though for six or
seven years she had been almost constantly a member of Lady'
Lacy's household. These present and proximate visitations were
tacitly accounted a sort of return call, with the understanding
that they would then resume their former relations, Miss Clare
accepting Lady Lacy's hospitality for an indefinite time. These
young women, who had been together from childhood, were sis-
ters in affection, and each was necessary to the happiness of the
other, sharing each other's secrets almost universally, but each
having one little nook in her gentle heart hidden from all mortal
scrutiny.
"Eet, my dear," said Clare, with elaborate indifference, "I
think it very probable that your reverend brother will be here
to-day or to-morrow."
" Indeed ! He said nothing to me of such an intention."
" Yes, he did. He said he desired to accompany you to the
Trossachs, and you told him we should go this week."
" Well. He is a good boy, my dear, and will not be trouble-
some."
" All men are troublesome, Eet, especially in travelling. It is
true they make a great parade, getting tickets, attending to lug-
gage, calling cabs and the like. But you can have all these things
done by your maid, or if you really need a man, you can always
get a railway porter, pay him a shilling and get rid of him after
the service is rendered. You can't pay the rector a shilling and
send him off 1"
" May I tell him your views," said Eet, amused.
" Oh, certainly. But I have already told him."
" How did he like your sentiments F
" My dear, all men are conceited. He said he was entirely
satisfied to take the position, so long as I made no exceptions.
But there was a pleasant smirk on his face, indicating his confi-
dence in his own attractions. You can't get the conceit out of them
by the plainest statements !"
"If he should come and accompany us it wDl be for the sake
of escorting you, and I believe you are secretly delighted to have
the poor boy dangling after you ^you hard-hearted wretch I"
184 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
" Indeed, you are partly right," answered Miss Tamworth, toss-
ing her head 5 " he is better than most of the danglers, in that he
takes himself off for a quiet smoke about every hour, and one
gets short intervals of rest. Bet, I want to look at the Lacy
Diamonds I''
" That reminds me ^ said Lady Lacy. " Kitty P
" My lady F answered Kitty from the garden.
" You are going with Nellie to drive presently. Go to Stirling
to the jeweller's ^here is his card and get my brooch. You had
better pin it in your collar for safety, securing the guard-chain;
cover it with your scarf, Kitty. Here is a half crown. He only
had to repair the guard-chain."
"Yes, my lady. The carriage is here now. Shall I go at
once?"
" Yes. Now, Clare, you will have to wait Kitty's return. The
earrings are up stairs."
" And the necklace ^
" Ah 1 that is not here. My dear, you have seen these gaudy
toys a hundred times."
" I have not seen that necklace for half a dozen years."
" Nor I," answered Eet. There was a cloud upon her fair brow
which the quick eye of her friend noticed. She drew near, put
her arm around her neck and kissed her.
" Forgive my thoughtless folly, my love 1 I fear I have given
you painl lietl" she continued, vehemently, "I do sincerely
believe there is some dreadful curse about those diamonds!
There 1 I have hurt you again I Shall I quit talking about
them r
" Yes, dear, if you don't mind," said Eet quietly. " There goes
the carriage. Look at Nellie ! She is driving I"
" Yes, and if that great monster, Mr. Barston, comes back he
will teach her to swear at the horses I What an amiable lunatic
the man is !" She was looking out the window and did not see the
little glow that spread over her friend's face. " Nellie says the
last time she rode with him she held the bridle, and he only
talked to that wild beast he rides. Nellie says the horse stands
dead still when he bids him. Ah!" she continued, with a little
shiver, " what a life the poor woman whom he marries will lead !"
"Suppose you undertake him, Clare?" said her friend, with
a little grain of spite.
" Never !" replied Clare. " Nobody knows where he is or where
STIRLING. 185
he has been. It is quite probable that he has two or three wives
already in the outlandish countries he has visited. He looks Uke
a regular Bluebeard."
The innocent object of this vituperation was at that moment in-
specting the horses in the stable of the "Castle" inn. He selected ,
a steed and was soon cantering down the street, seeking the road
that led to Miss Tarn worth's cottage. A short distance from the
town a lane deflected from the highway, and led along the margin
of the beautiful Forth, and while Barston paused at the junction
of the roads a carriage approached from the opposite direction,
and he drew his horse aside to give it passage. A child in the
carriage tossed up her arms with a cry of delight at the sight of
him.
* Cousin Lacy !" she said, " take me, take me !"
'^ My Nellie ! My darling 1 Will you come for a gallop with
meF
" Yes ! yes !" said Kellie, struggling to reach him.
He took her in his arms, and restraining his restive horse he
directed Kitty to meet them at the same spot an hour later, and
then turning down the lane was out of sight in a minute.
" I thought you would have forgotten me, Nellie," he said, when
he drew rein after a gallop. " Why, you dear little witch, you
have grown a foot since I saw you."
" Yes," said Nellie, " I grow a little every day. Mamma says I
may have a little pony when I grow two more feet. But I like to
ride Eolaud with you."
*^ How did you know me so soon, Nellie ?"
"I saw your eyes."
" Well, other people have eyes."
" Other people don't have your eyes," answered Nellie, posi-
tively. " Your eyes say, ' I love Nellie,' and Nellie loves you
darely /"
Swiss covered her upturned face with his flowing beard.
" You shall have a pony before you grow another inch, baby.
I saw one in Mexico that will just suit you. I'll go back for it if
need be."
" Don't want you to go back. I can ride Eoland with you."
" Then I'll get you a Shetland. Or maybe you would like a
donkey ? There are some beautiful donkeys at Clifton."
"Don't think I like donkeys," said Nellie, doubtfully.
"You had better cultivate the liking, baby. Donkeys are very
umerous. But we will try for the iShetiandet^.^
186 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
" Mamma says we are going to Clifton soon,'' observed Nellie.
" We might have a donkey firsf
" Very well. There are plenty of donkeys on the Downs. Now
we will take another gallop. This brute is not like Eoland.''
When Mr. Bai'ston reached the rendezvous his horse was minus
a shoe and limped painfully. He relinquished the child to Kitty,
catching a glimpse of her countenance, which wore a troubled ex-
pression, and he thought she looked wistfully at him.
" What is it, Kitty f ' he said, kindly. She placed the child on
the seat, and stepping out of the carriage came near his stirrup.
" I beg your pardon, Mr. Barston,'' she said, " but I know you
are a lawyer, and I know you will tell me the truth. Please teU
me what makes a marriage legal in Scotland.''
" An af&rmation before witnesses almost any form of state*
ment will be binding. But ^
"Excuse me, sir, please. Suppose two people are married
before witnesses by a magistrate ^'
" They are as firmly married as if by the Lord Bishop of Lon-
don ."
" Suppose," said Kitty, again interrupting him, " suppose they
use feigned names? Suppose they call themselves by other
people's names ?"
" Well," said Barston, reflecting, " if their identity can be estab-
lished that does not materially alter the case ; but there are other
consequences, such as possible prosecution for fraud. It is never
safe to tell lies of any sort."
" Thank you, sir," replied Kitty, returning to the carriage. " I
have a friend who is very anxious to know the law, and I felt
sure you coiUd tell me. Are you going with us, sir ?"
" No. My horse is lame. I must return to the inn and get an-
other. Besides, Mr. Harwood is in Stirling and we will go to-
gether. Good bye, Nellie !"
Arrived at the " Gastle " Mr. Barston found two things : a note
from the rector, who had gone to call on Mr. Macdower, the
brother of the Presbyterian minister at Lavington j a telegram
from Mrs. Dawson, saying Tommy was seriously hurt, and beg-
ging his honour to come to Eipple Farm, if possible, at once.
^
A COMPAONON DE VOYAGE. 18T
OHAPTEE XXXV.
A COMPAaNON DE YOYAaE.
^ ^rri HESE are hard lines/' said Swiss ; " it is a just punishment
J- forlying. I told Johnny I wished to come here to see Kellie !
I have seen Nellie, and nobody else ! They are going to the Trossachs
and the Lochs, and I thought 1 might go with them. Tommy is
the only son of his mother, and she is a widow. I wonder if the
whelp has dislocated his jaw ! Poor boy ! what a wretch I am to
talk iu this fashion. Well ! The only atonement is to start by
the first train. Mrs. Dawson would never telegraph unless the
case were serious. Landlord ! Have you a time table ? When
does the first train south leave Stirling F
" In twenty minutes, sir."
" I am called away suddenly. Mr. Harwood will not be back in
time. Give him this despatch. Stay. I will leave a note for him.
While I write please get me a cab, and put my portmanteau in."
He sat down at the table and wrote a hurried note, enclosed the
telegram in it, sealed and addressed the envelope, paid his bill,
got into the cab, and reached the station one minute before the
train started. And while Nellie was recounting to her mother
her morning adventures, the hero of them was gliding along, forty-
five miles an hour, towards Devonshire.
The porter who seized his portmanteau and rug when he dashed
into the ticket office, met him as he came flying out again.
"This way, sir! Smoking? Yes sir! First class, of course,
sir ! This carriage, sir ! All to yourself, sir ? No, sir ! One other
gent, sir. All right, sii* ! Potman to under the seat, sir ! Thankee
sir!"
The other gent was in the opposite corner. He had his rug over
his shoulder, concealing the lower part of his face, while his wide-
a- wake hat was pulled down over his brows. He seemed to be
asleep.
Barston merely glanced at his fellow traveller to see if he was
smoking. The train had come from above, and had only been two
or three minutes in the station. Probably this was a passenger
from farther north. Swiss noticed his well-shaped foot, his well-
fitting habiliments, and one white hand, ungloved, holding the rug
over his breast.
188 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
" Gentleman, anyhow," he muttered. " This compartment is label-
ed smoking, so I need not apologize if I blow a doad. 1 wonder
if he is asleep f '
He was soon enveloped in blue smoke. At the next station a
boy clambered up to the window, with a supply of yesterday's
"Times." Barston bought a paper and read steadily till there was
nothing left but advertisements. He did not care to talk, as his
mind was preoccupied, but he looked over at his companion once
or twice, but could not see that he had moved a muscle. At last
they rattled into the station at Glasgow.
" Tickets, please I" said the guard ; " all right, sir I Ticket, sir !"
and he passed into the carriage. The sleeper put out his hand as
the guard approached.
" Lavington I'' said the guard j " all right, sir. This carriage goes
through, so both you gentlemen can keep your seats.''
"Indeed!" thought Barston. "I wonder if my compagtum de
voyage is going to sleep all the way. He wakened very opportunely
just now, though I cannot see that he has moved anything but
his arm."
An hour or two later the train went roaring through a long tun-
nel, and as they again emerged into the fading sunlight, Barston
glanced at his silent companion. He had half turned in his seat,
and the rug was pulled up on his shoulder and across his breast,
its folds covering his chin. The hat was still lower over his brow,
and nothing was visible of his face excepting his nose, and a
thick moustache under it.. He had roused himself sufficiently to
make these changes while they were in the darkness of the tunnel.
Barston began to be interested. He was too thorough a gentle-
man to evince any curiosity, and too thorough an Englishman to
volunteer conversation. It was clear that the other did not desire
an interchange of civilities, and his quiet was certainly not all sleep.
Through another long tunnel, and in Egyptian darkness. The
train was running slowly, approaching a station. Barston detected
the odour of spirits, and heard the gurgling, as the stranger im-
bibed. Then there came the flash of a Vesuvius, and Swiss saw
by its glare the white teeth of his fellow voyager holding his
cigar. A puff or two and all was darkness again. As the train
drew out of the tunnel Barston was attracted by the lights in the
station, and when he looked again the other had changed his seat
and was now on the same side with himself, his back to the engine.
The rug had fallen away and was spread over his knees, but his
A COMPAONON DE VOYAGE. 189
hat was cocked over to the right and his hand was supporting his
head. Nothing was visible now but the lurid tip of his cigar.
Two youngsters got into the carnage as the train stopi)ed. One
took the seat between Swiss and the quiet traveller, the other in
the opposite corner. The guard came in, inspected tickets again,
and as he departed gave his final instructions.
"Tou two gents wot just got in change at Brummagen. This
carriage goes through to Exeter."
" Lost my matches, by Jove P said the one in the comer. " May
I trouble you for a light, sir F
" Ya-as ! I guess you may,'' replied the stranger, with a decided
nasal twang.
" That is intended for Yankee," said Swiss to himself, " but it is
overdone, by the three kings I Now, I will watch this fellow if I
keep awake all night 1"
Watching was not needed very long, however. The new comers
talked a little, sometimes to each other and sometimes to Butler.
'^ You are from America, sir f " said he who had obtained the
Ught.
" Ya-as."
" I think that is a lie," said Swiss to himself.
" Is the war still going on, sir ?"
" Ya-as."
" How long have you been in England, sir F
" Came a week or two ago, I guess."
" From North America, sir ?"
Ya-as. Noo Yawk."
" I say, Dick, this gentleman can probably tell you something
about Horace. He is from !N"ew York. Did you happen to know
a young man name of Scroggins Horace Scroggins ?"
" Guess not," replied the American gentleman.
" That is very strange. He went to !N"ew York, I know."
" Waal, there are about a million inhabitants in that village,"
responded the other. " I calkilate 'twould keep a man busy to get
acquainted with 'em all in a life time."
" I think you would have noticed Horace, though," said the
young man after a little pause " or his wife. She is lovely ! She
was a nurse-maid in his mother's house, and he ran off to Scotland
with her and was married there. And he went to America from
Glasgow. !N"one of his family would have anything to do with
him after that marriage."
190 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
" Small loss to him," said the other fiercely, forgetting his nasal
twang. "What need he care about friends or family? Nurse-
maid ! I have known nurse-maids a thousand times better than
your stuck-up countesses.''
"Butler I by the three kings!" said Swiss inaudibly. "!N"o
mistake about the trill of those r's. What a rage the fellow is in.
I begin to understand a little. He has been marrying Kitty, and
that accounts for his attachment to nurse-maids. Poor Kitty !
That accounts for her eager questions, also. Why should he marry
her under a feigned name ! I need not watch any more. I'll go
to sleep."
He wound his watch, wrapped his rug around his nether limbs,
and propping himself up in his cushioned corner, was speedily
walking with Ret by the margin of murmuring rivulets, and amid
the warblings of birds, while she listened with eager attention to
the long, long story of his love.
He was wakened at last by the stopping of the train, and as the
porters rushed by with swinging lanterns, he heard them cry out
the name of the station next to Lavington. Mr. Butler was in his
comer, awake and watchful.
" My friend," said Barston, with kindly accents, " I know you.'?
" Do you f replied the other.
" Yes. You married Kitty yesterday, at Stirling."
Butler started. " What devil are you in agreement with," said
he, " that you know all I do as soon as it is done ?"
" Come," replied Barston, " let us lay aside this useless antago-
nism. You have married the girl and I hope you will be kind to
her. Do you object to the interest I take in your wife, and in you
for her sake ?"
" What do you purpose now !" said Butler, after a pause.
" Nothing that you do not approve. If you will allow me to
help you in any plans you have laid, I shall be glad to do it. What
do you purpose?"
" I am going to America. Mr. Barston, I have tried to hate you,
but I cannot. You have thwarted me once and again, but I have
known that you were kind in it all. Now that I have married
Kitty, it is not likely that you will care to trouble me more. I
have no definite plans. If a time should come when you can aid
me, I will apply to you." He ground his teeth as he continued.
" Those cursed Harwoods have made themselves odious to me. All
of them ! And if I can damage any of them hereafter, I warn you
that I Shan do itV^
A COMPAQNON DE VOYAGE, 191
** We cannot be friends, then," replied Barston quietly. " Their
enemies are my enemies. If you were not under the blighting
influence of some wrong, accomplished or.intended some horrible
crime,! fear you Avould recognize and admire the nobleness erf
liord Morton and his family. We are near Lavington. Let me
say one word to you. I am a lawyer. Your marriage is certainly
legal, but you run the risk of compromising your wife, at least, by
marrying under a false name !''
" Who dares to say soF said Butler haughtily. " It is false!
I married under my own proper name. It is true that I persuaded
Kitty to call herself by another name. But what do you knowf
"Nothing only that feigned names were used. Ko matter!
It might save you trouble hereafter if you correct the registry and
give Kitty's real name. It is no business of mine, and I only warn
you for your own sake. Your station in life may ^"
" Don't talk to me of names and stations. If I go to America
and stay there, perhaps I can make another name. I have been
there. There is a vast empire in their far west, where a man may
go and possibly forget his previous life. All of mine is one long,
dismal curse 1" /
"Listen to me," said Barston, as the train glided into the
Lavington station. " I am attracted to you by an influence that
I can neither understand nor resist. If you have done wrong,
surely atonement is possible. If you have been wronged, I will
stand by you with name and fortune until you are righted. Only
confide in me, and let me befriend you if it is possible."
" It is iMt possible I" replied Butler, with cold despair in his
tones. " I am partly criminal and partly the victim of the wicked-
ness of others. I am not a lawyer, but I think it very likely that
your laws would take my life from me for a dozen violations of
them ! and yet my crimes are so covered that no witness of any of
them lives upon the earth ! I wish I had never encountered you.
But for you I could live upon my hatred of the race ! We part
here, God bless you, if there is such a Being, which I don't be-
lieve I"
With a horrid laugh he pushed the door open, stepped out upon
the platform and disappeared, leaving Barston aghast at his words
and manner.
192 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
OHAPTEE XXXVI.
The Eector's Scottish Friend.
THE Eeverend John Harwood had certam mission work in
Lavington, in which he was aided by the Eeverend Andrew
Macdower, a minister of the Free Church of Scotland, who had a
flourishing congregation in that village. It was not exactly eccle-
siastical work, and Mr. Harwood did not officially engage in it, as
the gulf between the church and dissenters was too wide to be
bridged, and the rector did not care to engage in a task so un-
promising as that sort of architecture would prove. The pious
antagonism between the church people and "the others'' was
latent in Lavington, i^artly because Lord Morton was a dissenter
and partly because the rector, though a staunch churchman, was
too liberal in his views to lead an assault upon the works of Non-
conformity.
Mr. Macdower was a scholar of rare attainments, and as Mr.
Harwood was also a book-man, they readily fell into a warm friend-
ship. They had amicable battles over their sectarian differences,
while their creeds were identical in almost every particular. For
a wonder they agreed in politics, both being staunch tories, the
rector going a little beyond the Scot, of course, and both being
annually lectured by Lord Morton, who was a liberal. It is
worthy of note that the scribblings they both indulged in upon
political questions were published in papers far distant from Lav-
ington.
On the day of his departure for Stirling, Mr. Macdower called
npon him and charged him with messages to his brother.
" You must hunt up Aleck, Mr. Harwood," he said 5 " youTl find
him weel up in modern science. It would pain me to think you
had been to Stirling without seeing him."
" It shall be my first business when I get there," s^d the rector.
" While I am absent I rely upon you to watch over the mill school.
Don't allow the children to get astray in the mazes of dissent. If
you choose to instruct them in your Westminster theology I shall
not object, provided you don't dilute it with your modem rubbish."
" Ay, ay," responded the other theologue 5 " if we can only get
the rising generation weel instructed in the Shorter Catechism
there will be little left of your bloated Establishment twenty years
hence F
THE RECTORS SCOTTISH FRIEND. . 193
When BarstoD was galloping on the bank of the Forth, Mr. Har-
wood was exx)loring Stirling Castle. This was soon disposed of,
and as his engagement with Swiss was an hour later, he went in
search of Mr. Alexander Macdower, magistrate. That worthy
was at home, and received his visitor with the courtly grace of a
Scottish gentleman.
^} I've heard so much of you, Mr. Harwood," he said, '* from my
brother Andy, that I seem to know you. You are welcome to Stir-
ling, sir, and I suld be happy if you would make my house your
home during your stay."
'* I thank you, Mr. Macdower, but I leave to-day. My sister is
in the neighbourhood, and I hope to accompany her through your
lake country. I left your brother in good health, and have mes-
sages to deliver about sundry matters. He desires me to say,
first, that the last speech of Mr. Gladstone's is a failure."
" And you can just tell him that he has no' made an original
discovery in yon direction. I have heard abune a dozen ignorant
cadgers say the same thing I"
The rector laughed. " That is a capital answer, and I shall not
forget it. We parted in a fight and he had the last shot. He
thinks the Westminster Confession contains all the theology that
man needs to steer clear of rocks and quicksands."
"He is no' far wrang," replied Mr. Macdower j "may be ye
had better tackle Andy on some ither subject."
"Do you swallow the entire Confession, Mr. Macdower?"
" I dinna say that I The Confession is no' inspired, ye ken, but
it is a safe body o' divinity. It says some things aboot the
creation that may be a little dubious. May I offer your reverence
a wee taste o' Scotch whusky ?"
" Many thanks, sir, but I must decline. My limited knowledge
of that beverage induces me to dislike it thoroughly !"
" Weel," said the Scot, " de gmtibus nan est disputanduniy ye ken.
If ye canna appreciate Scotch whusky your education has been
neglected." ^
" It tastes," said the rector with a shudder, " like turpentine
diluted with peat smoke."
" There was a chap from your country," replied the magistrate,
^^ that I married the morn, who tuk a nip without blinkin' !"
" Married 1" exclaimed Mr. Harwood. " Oh, I forgot your
Scottish law. Do you find the warrant for Scottish marriages in
your Confession, also t"
13
f
u
194 THE LACY DIAMONDS,
*' Nay. It is a ceevil contract, ye ken, and is binding if per-
formed by a magistrate. I am weel aware that you churchmen
look upon it as a sort o' sacrament."
" Not quite," replied the rector, " but we think it is more than a
civil contract. And so do you, I am sure. You say it was a
countryman of mine whom you made happy this morning I"
" I didna' say anything aboot the happiness. The leddy was
no' ill-looking, but she had that composed appearance which in-
dicated a decided wull of her ain. She will be apt to rule yon
chap in spite of his beard, and he has plenty f that. I didna
notice her much, as I was attracted by her diamonds. Hoot,
mon I but she had a brooch on her neck worth twa thousand
punda, I should say !"
"Indeed!" said Mr. Harwood, rising and drawing on his gloves.
" Was it a single stone ?"
" Nay ! It was composed of three stanes. They were held by
delicate gold work in the shape of lilies. The diamonds were set
in the mouths of the flowers."
The rector sat down again.
^ Do you happen to remember her name I" he asked, gradually
. getting himself in hand, as he instinctively felt that an astound-
.;ing jmevelation was imminent.
"Ay I I remember Sir Walter's lines :
" Tam worth tower and town ;"
.it wa^ Mis Clare Tam worth."
"I ha^ve a curiosity to taste that whisky," said the rector, "if
. pot top troublesome."
The hipst produced a decanter and glasses with a celerity that
W9.S admirable, Mr. Harwood poured out about a gill, and with
^ polite bow to the magistrate, swallowed it. While he coughed
and choked, the Scot allowed a similar quantity to glide down
his throat, a drop at a time.
" Ye'U never leiqirn to drink Scotch whusky," said he, discon-
tentedly, " if ye bolt it in yon fashion. It is a cruel waste o' raw
material!"
f^ Raw enough I" muttered the poor rector.
"Pardon me, my dear sir!" said Mr. Macdower suddenly, "I
didna see that you were ill I Your cheeks are the colour of your
cravat ! Tak' another drop o' the dew."
" I am getting better, I thank you," said Mr. Harwood. " Did
you say whom it was that the lady married t"
THE REGTOES SCOTTISH FRIEND, ' 195
" Ay ! a Master Lacy. I dinna mind bis baptismal appellation.
Some outlandish name. He was in an unco' hurry to catch the
southern train."
" I must go, I think. This gentleman was an Englishman ^^
"Ayl from Lavington, he said. Must you go, sir? I am
proud to have made your acquaintance, sir," and as the rector '
desoended the steps he muttered, " deil tak' the mon! that shot o'
raw whusky was too much for him! He is no' accustomed to it,
lie said, yet he tossed it off like a wild Hielandmanl"
The Parson found Bars ton's note when he returned to the
^* Castle Inn.'' When he opened the envelope the enclosure fell out.
It was a telegram from Mrs. Dawson, Lavington, Devon, to Mr.
Lacy Barston, Stirling, Scotland. "Tommy is very seriously
hurt, perhaps dangerously. Can your honour come to Ripple
Farm immediately ? He asks for you anxiously." Barston's note
was as follows :
" My Deab Johnny The enclosed telegram will tell you all
that I know. I start immediately for Lavington. It is a very
sore disappointment, but we cannot resist Providence. Please
explain to the ladies the cause of my hasty departure. If Tommy
is not fatally hurt I will return in a few days. Leave the plan of
your proposed route at the inn, or telegraph me at Lavington. I
feel like Moore's * Peri,' who got a glimpse of paradise and then
had the door slam'd in her face! ^Affectionately yours,
"Laoy Barston."
"This is wholly inexplicable I" said the rector. "I am bewildered.
Treachery I It is impossible I I would not believe Swiss guilty
of wrong if I saw him doing it. I should think it an optical
illusion. But he has married Clare Tamworth, or I am mad! or
that Scotch rascal was drunk! The wisest thing to do will be to
see her and ask her what it means. Married ! And I have come
here solely to ask her to be my wife ! Are there two Clare Tam-
worths ?"
The unhappy Parson got into a cab, and drove to Miss Tarn-
worth's cottage as rapidly as the Scotch cabby, inspired by an
extra shilling, could make his horse go. The ladies were at lunch-
eon. As Miss Tamworth came forward to welcome hin^, he was
the three lilies blazing in her collar. The reader need hardly be
told that Kitty ran to her patroness at once with the story of her
marriage, and Clate took the brooch and pinned it in her own
196 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
dress for safety. As the rector glanced at the jewels, he remem-
bered some quaint rhyme he had heard in his young days, and
shuddered.
Eet, the dear, sensible woman, placed a chair for Johnny next
to CUire, and taking her luncheon as fast as she could, excused her-
self and left them at the table. She thought Johnny wanted Clare
and she almost thought that Clare wanted the rector. Her good-
ness can be better appreciated when it is remembered that nothing
had been said about Barston's non-appearance, and she was de-
voured by a raging desire to know how he would greet her at their
next meeting. Miss Tam worth was too full of Kitty's secret, just
revealed to her, and also i)OSsessed by a secret consciousness of
the rector's attachment, and all her faculties were employed in
maintaining an air of utter unconsciousness, of course. So she
forgot Barston's existence. Lady Lacy never mentioned his name
at all. And the Rector was piously whispering to himself that
" there was certainly some curse about those infernal Lacy Dia-
monds !"
CHAPTER XXXVII.
Miss Clare's Explaisatioks.
THE Reverend John Harwood sat moodily sipping pale ale,
Avhile his companion nibbled daintily at a cake. GThey were
a very handsome couple, having considerable liking each for the
other, and it is a horrid shame to leave them playing at cross pur-
poses. Each looked conscious. Parson Johnny was thinking
of the speeches he had composed between Lavington and Stir-
ling, and which he had thought out, very much as he ** thought
out" his sermons, with due reference to the orderly sequence
of the argument. And, oddly enough, he was reminded of a
funeral discourse he had recently prepared, to be delivered on
the Sunday following the obsequies of a dying parishioner, and
which was totally lost for the nonce, in consequence of the fellow's
unexpected recovery. It is true that he still had the sermon, but
there was no certainty that it would be available when his parish-
ioner did die, as the circumstances might be entirely different.
Miss Clare was burdened with Kitty's secret. There was enough
romance about the whole story of her marriage to cover all the
MISS CLARIPS EXPLANATIONS. 197
objectionable features. The bridegroom had enjoined present
secrecy upon Kitty, alleging family reasons, and this fact, coupled
^ith Mr. Butler's distingue appearance in his fashionable attire,
satisfied Miss Tamworth that his claims of gentle breeding were
^ell founded. Kitty herself was considerably flustered, and her
story of the unexpected meeting with Butler, and the sudden
proposition, the hurried ceremony, and the assumption of a feigned
name (which Kitty did not reveal) her subsequent interview with
Mr. Barston and his assurance of the legality of the marriage all
these were jumbled up in inextricable confusion. Moreover, Miss
Clare somehow associated this rapid change of relations, and the
status of wifehood, with the rector's appearance upon the scene,
and wondered what she should say if Mr. Harwood made kindred
proposals to her.
" What has become of Mr. Barston !" she said, at length. " We
exi)ected to see him with you."
The rector handed her the note which Swiss had left, and
watched her furtively while she read it.
" He would make a very indifferent sort of Peri, I imagine," she
said coolly, refolding the note. " Is Tommy the young man we
saw at Eipple Farm? I mean the one with a mouth."
" Yes. I think he has a mouth," replied the Parson.
"You are so charmingly lively this morning," said Miss Clare
with some asperity, "that you must have attended a funeral
recently I"
"On the contrary," said Mr. Harwood, "I am just from the
scene of a wedding I"
Miss Tamworth started.
"And the bride wore a brooch very similar to that you have in
your collar !"
Miss Tamworth blushed. Matters were growing serious.
" I am overwhelmed. Miss Clare. I beg your pardon, madame.
I meant to say, that this whole business Avas so totally unexpected,
and the secrecy and haste, and all the circumstances, shocking to
my mind, that I may be pardoned if I violate ordinary rules of
politeness. I called at the magistrate's, Mr. Macdower's, by acci-
dent this morning, and he toki me of the marriage and the names
of the happy pair. Indeed, his description of the brooch convinced
me that the bride came from this house, and I did not need to hear
any names I I suppose I have no right to complain but I cannot
but feel that I have been treated with little consideration."
198 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
" I am very sorry to hear you say so," said Miss Clare, brashing
away the tears that started to her eyes.
" Forgive me if I pain you !" said the miserable rector. " It was
far from my purpose. I would have thought, however, that you
held truer views of the marriage relation than to regard it as a
mere civil contract, to be certified by a magistrate !"
" It was not my doing, Mr. Harwood. If I had dreamed that
you would so regard it ^
" Oh, Clare V"
" Mr. Barston says,'' she continued hurriedly, " that the mar-
riage is entirely legal. I had not thought of what you suggest,
but I know you are right, and I think I may promise to have the
ceremony duly performed in church when we go back to England.
It will be only a week or two . What is it, Nellie ?"
Nellie, who had suddenly burst into the room, clutched a good
wedge of cake and filled her little mouth. Then she climbed up
on her uncle's knees, kissed him, tilling his whiskers and bosom
with crumbs, and when she had bolted the cake stated her busi-
ness.
' " Where is Cousin Lacy ? He said he was coming wid you,
Uncle Johnny."
" He has gone to Lavington, baby," replied the rector. " Here
is his note 5 take it to your mamma."
Nellie took the letter and slid down to the floor. She took
another wedge of cake, and deliberately munched and swallowed,
apparently at the constantly recurring risk of strangulation, in-
tently regarding her uncle and Miss Tamworth as if she would read
their secret souls. They were both conscious of certain discomfort
under this watchful scrutinv. Then she shook the letter at them,
gravely nodding her pretty head, and fairly overwhelmed them
with her parting observation :
" I know what it all means I" she said with calm triumph in her
voice and manner " Donkeys !" and she stalked majestically out
of the room.
" I cannot say that Nellie is very complimentary !" observed
Miss Tamworth.
" No ! but so far as her last observation applied to me she was
very nearly right ! It appears to me that I must look very much
like a donkey. I certainly feel like one, and shall look out for this-
tles as my regular fare hereafter." He brushed the crumbs from
his dress, rose from the table, and took his hat and gloves.
MISS CLARE'S EXPLANATIONS. 190
" Are you not going to remain with us to-day, Mr. Harwood ?
You know we go to the Trossachs to-morrow.''
" Alas !" said the rector, " I must forego the pleasure 1 had
promised myself. I must give up this excursion and return to
Lavington and try to find comfort in the performance of my stated
duties. It would be utterly false in me to pretend that this morn-
ing's business was of so little moment to me." He spoke with
quiet dignity and composure, and Clare began to grow angry.
'* Really, Mr. Harwood !" she said, " I cannot see that you have
cause for this distress. A marriage has been celebrated, and the
gentleman most interested says there are weighty reasons for the
informality and secrecy. All the forms required by law have been
observed, and the people are married hopelessly, if j'ou like. If
you and liet, with your inveterate Harwood obstinacy pray par-
don me ! will still nurse your opposition ^"
" Say no more !" interrupted the Parson. " If you think I have
no cause to complain I am thankful ! It is so much relief at least.
Will you please make my excuses to Ret *? It will only be necessary
to say that I find my clerical duties call me home at once. Good
bye ! I hope I need not say that I wish you all the hapi)iness
that is attainable in this world and the next !" He took her hand,
pressed it and was gone.
She watched him walking rapidly down the path until he turned
into the highway. Then she ran up into Lady Lacy's room with
streaming eyes. Ret was on the sofa just finishing the fourteenth
perusal of Mr. Barston's note, which she slipped into her pocket
with a guilty blush as her friend entered.
"Why, Clare! My dear, dear Clare, what hias happened?
Where is Johnny?"
" Gone away, inebriated, I think j that is, I hope he is ! He drank
enough of that pale ale to make three men drunk ! He has been
doing nothing since you left but drinking ale and talking like a
lunatic ! I think it is awfully horrid for a clergyman to get into
such a state! He is off to Lavington, telling some preposterous
story about his clerical duties. A nice state he will be in to per-
form clerical duties! He will have delirium-thingamy on the
route, no doubt. Oh, Ret ! I could tear his eyes out, and cry out
my own !"
" My dear !" said Ret, with wondering anxiety, " tell me what
it means ! what did Johnny say ?"
" Say I Who could teU wliat he said, with his tongue so thick
200 THE LAGY DIAMONDS.
with ale. He has gone, I tell you gone aft^r that precious Peri I
Ha ! ha f aud she laughed hysterically through her tears.
" Clare !" said Lady Lacy, " you distress me very much. Can
you not give me a coherent account of your interview f
" Indeed I cannot, Ret ! I hardly know how it began or ended.
Mr. Harwood took me to task like a raging hyena, only because I
happened to know about a certain matter, told me in confidence !
He found it out by accident, and why he should have raved at poor
me so venomously, I cannot imagine ! He would not allow me to
say one word, in defence or explanation. Here, Ret! take your
brooch ! I verily believe those horrid Lacy Diamonds are haunted !"
" This mystery is ver}^ vexatious, observed Ret P
"Oh, those horrid men P said Miss Tam worth, with a vicious
shudder. " Ret, my darling, let us go into a nunnery ! We shall
thus get rid of Parsons and Peris and live at peace! Your brother
is the most ill-tempered man I ever saw ! I am not at all certain
that he did not swear!''
" I am sure you are not telling stories, Clare," replied Lady Lacy,
" yet if anybody else should tell me that Johnny was intoxicated,
and in a rage, and indulging in profane language, I don't think I
cotdd believe the statement. I never knew him to be in a rage in
my life ! and as for swearing ! Oh, A\rhat would Mother say I''
" There, there !" said Miss Tam worth " you need not trumpet
the matter all over the world ! Of course he did not swear ! I
was joking about that. Heigho ! I don't feel much like joking,
either. You did not believe that nonsense about the ale. I only
meant to say that he did not eat any luncheon. Something has
happened to upset him, and he has gone after Mr. Barston to get
comfort. The Peri! Ret! how do you supi)ose he would look
with wings, flopping about the gate of Paradise ! What in the
world do you suppose the lunatic means, by his 'glimpse of Para-
dise!"'
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
Phrenological.
MR. BARSTON had a friend in London, who had been his pre-
ceptor, in his medical studies, and who was a man of very
extensive information and experience. In the scanty time between
the receipt of Mrs. Dawson's telegram and his departure from Stir-
PHRENOLOaiCAL. 201
ling, Barston managed to write a despatch, beseeching Dr. Cardon
to meet him at Lavington, to " attend a very serious surgical case"
in the neighbourhood. Doctor Cardon had the same sort of appe-
tite for surgical cases that a child has for sugar -plums, or a critic
for the gore of authors, and Barstou cunningly worded his des-
patch so as to make the feast as attractive as possible. The train
from London arrived at Lavington at the same hour with Barston's
train, and he met the doctor on the platform, in the station.
" My dear doctor," he said, shaking his hand, " this is kind of
you. I am much interested in the poor boy, and was not willing
to trust him in less skilful hands.. Leave your luggage with the
porter ^
^'Luggage!'' answered Dr. Cardon, while he collected various
cases in a pile "luggage! You did not tell me what sort of a
case it was, so I have brought all laj instruments !''
Barston had enough esprit de corps to know that the doctor
would entrust those precious cases to a liorter about as soon as a
young mother would leave her baby in charge of a gorilla. Accord-
ingly he assisted the doctor, while they were being transferred to
a cab, handling the nicely polished boxes with great tenderness.
When they arrived at the inn Barston proposed that they should
leave the instruments in the cab while they partook of breakfast.
"Not a bit of it P said Dr. Cardon, "bring 'em in! Who can
tell whether that brute of a horse will bolt or not f
When they were bowling along the Exeter road under the level
rays of the morning sun, the doctor asked Barston to " describe
the case." Mr. Barston knew nothing beyond the fact that Tommy
-was seriously hurt, and the surgeon made himself as comfortable
as he could, in his corner of the cab, and fell asleep. He dreamed
of dislocated limbs and of amputations, of delightful hours in hos-
pitals and dissecting rooms, of saws, and knives, and tourniquets,
and when the cab stopped at Eipple Farm he awoke, refreshed
and cheerful.
It required very little time to get the facts. Tommy had pro-
jected a visit to Jenny Potter, the daughter of a fisherman on the
coast. As Master Lacy could go down to tbe beach over the rocks
Tommy thought he could do likewise, although forbidden, and
missing his footing, he hjid rolled down to the bea5h, and was
brought home on a shutter. Some bones were broken, and Doctor
Holly had repaired the damage in that direction. Tommy was a
mere bundle of splints. He besought his mother to send for Mas-
202 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
ter Lacy, when he was first brought home, and she had yielded to
his urgeucy, aud telegraphed to Stirling. Since the despatch was
sent Tommy had been in a stupor, aud, when Dr. Oardon arrived,
he was totally unconscious.
With practiced hands the doctor felt the ribs and spine of the
patient. These were unhurt. One arm was broken and a small
bone in one leg, and Dr. H0II3' had done all that was needful in
setting and splinting and had " left the case." His brother prac-
titioner rather objected to interfere, although assured by Mrs.
Dawson that he had left Tommy that morning, saying he could do
no more.
" Do you know where he went ?" asked Barston.
"Yes, sir; he has gone to Mr. Bottomry's."
'' It is ouly a mile or two," said Barston. " I will go after him
and bring him back. Eoland is here ; is he not, Mrs. Dawson F
" Yes, sir ; but there is no one here to saddle him."
" I will find some one," answered Barston, moving to the door.
" Doctor, wait for me half an hour or so."
While Swiss was absent Doctor Cardon opened some of his
cases a.d "polished oflF" several ferocious implements with a
chamois skin. Mrs. Dawson looked on with dumb horror. She
had a vague idea that Tommy would be taken apart and set up
afresh when t'other saw bones arrived. Within an hour Dr. Holly's
gig rattled up and he and Barston reappeared in the sick room.
Dr. Garden's reputation as a surgeon was so well established
that Barstou's apologies for bringing him were unnecessary. The
other was very glad to divide the responsibility of the case with a
gentleman of Dr. Garden's fame. Mrs. Dawson withdrew at a
hint from Barston, and as he was a quasi medico^ both of the " reg-
ulars " begged him to remain at the consultation.
" You will have the advantage of a very instructive clinic, Bar-
ston," said Garden. " Do you remember the fellow in the Vienna
hospital, who was brought in reduced to a pulp I"
" Yes."
" Well, this case is very similar. The boy has had an ugly
knock on the head."
" Several of them," observed Dr. Holly.
"Yes, doctor," repUed the London surgeou, "and you have
dressed them all as skilfully as mortal man could do it ; that is,
all except one."
" I examined the cranium very carefully," said Dr. Holly, " I
hare shaved his head, you see."
PHRENOLOGICAL. 203
" Yes ; and one strip of adhesive plaster is over the right organ
of alinfentiveness."
" Pardon me 1 " said Dr. Holly, stiffly. " I do not know the
locality yon name l'^
"Ah !'' said Cardon, "you miss a great deal, doctor, by reject-
ing phrenology. Now in my first examination of this youth I was
very much struck with the splendid development of his masticat-
ing organs. Look at this process 1 It is a jaw that would crush
gravel stones! and his mouth is big enough to take in a sucking
pig at a bite I Kow nature never does things by halves, lijiow-
ing this fact, and believing in phrenology, I was enabled to discover
an injury that escaped you, and no wonder, as you don't believe in
phrenology I''
" I am still entirely in the dark P said Dr. Holly.
" Of course ! Don't be restless, Barston. The boy is just as
comfortable as an unborn infant. He is comatose, owing to a
small fragment of bone pressing upon the dura-mater!"
Dr. Holly started.
" Allow me to finish ray explanation," continued Garden ; " when
I found this maxillary," touching Tommy's jaw lightly with his
finger, " and this mighty opening for the reception of nutriment, I
immediately inferred that nature had a corresponding develop-
ment of the organ of alimentiveness, and as th^ right lobe was
fortunately in view, I looked in the proper spot, and the develop-
ment was wanting !"
" Very possibly 1" said Dr. Holly, dryly.
" Very impossibly, my dear sir !" returned Dr. Garden. " It
would have been abnormal 1 Kot finding the organ well marked
on the right side I examined the left. If you will take the trouble
to look, doctor, you will perceive a decided protuberance on this
side 1 Gome look, Barston !"
" I thought that was a bump !" said Dr. Holly.
" So it is, my dear sir^ A'^ulgarly so called. I call it a phreno-
logical protuberance !"
" I mean," said Holly, testily, " that I took it for a contusion."
"Ah! my dear sir, the contusion is on the other side, and has
made a depression which was totally indistinguishable except by
the aid of phrenological science! See! I remove the plaster,
with your permission. Now, doctor, please place your finger
here. Ah 1 have I your permission to do a little trepanning f
"Undoubtedly," said the other, overwhelmed. The London
doctor, smacking his lips, clutched his glittering weapons, and
204 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
deftly sawing a small hole in Tommy's head, picked out sundry
splinters of bone, and rapidly dressed the wound.
"I am going back to London by the first train," he said coolly,
as he repolished his implements and restored them to their velvet
couches. " Keally, Barston, this has been a very interesting case.
Nothing more is needed. The young man will be entirely con-
scious presently, and he could not be in better hands than Br.
Holly's. My dear doctor, it was simply impossible for you to
guess at that little injury, and I assure you m^' discovery is all due
to jihrenology. The youth, in his fall, struck that spot on a round
stone. The blow splintered the bone but did not cut the skin ;
and then there are so many severe bruises and wounds on the
contiguous surface that they would very naturally attract all your
attention, not being interested in phrenological investigation. I
would merely suggest that it would be well to sustain nature with
generous fare. He will recover rapidly, and his appetite will be
ravenous. Notice the fine swell of the sound organ, doctor, on
the left lobe ! He is waking.''
" Master Lacy," said Tommy, feebly, " I won't climb down them
rocks hany more ! May I 'ave some curd ?"
" Certainly," said Dr. Garden, with his chest expanded and his
eyebrows raised in a triumphant arch. " Certainly j that is, with
Dr. Holly's permission."
Dr. Holly was exterminated. Dr. Cardon carefully repacked
his cases on the floor of the cab, and with a fifty pound note in
his pocket and a bencA'olent smile on his face, departed. Barston
followed him to the cab to get his final instructions.
" The old woman will see the boy fed," said Dr. Cardon.
" You mean his mother!"
" No, I mean Dr. Holly I Barston, this fee is absurd. But I
accept it, partly because you have had the benefit of a superior
clinical lecture. How did your patient get such a tumble ! How
high is the bank above the beach!"
" About a hundred feet, I suppose."
" Well, his skull is thick or he would never have incurred such
peril !"
" Pooh, doctor !" answered Barston ; "J have been up and down
there forty times."
" Very likely. When I have your skull to trepan I shall use a
chisel ! Don't let the youth stuff* himself too liberally at first
There will be febrile symptoms anon. Dr. Holly will manage
judiciously."
TOMMY. SOS
OHAPTEE XXXIX.
Tommy.
DUEISrG the day Barston sat by Tommy's bedside, encour-
aging him with cheerful talk whenever he was awake.
Tommy was conscience-smitten, because he had been warned
against the dangerous pathwa^^, which he knew Mr. Barston
habitually traversed. The instinct that had prompted Swiss to
essay the passage at first would be described in Western Ameri-
can parlance as " pure cussedness j'' but, knowing the route, in all
its parts, it was not unsafe to Barston, who had the eye and hand
of a mountaineer, and who was an expert in all athletic exercises.
To poor Tommy the attempt was almost certain death, and^ he had
escaped fatal injuries by clutching at the stunted vegetation and
breaking his fall (and his bones) as he sped to the shingle beach.
"You see, Master Lacy," he said, after Dr. Holly left them, "I
thought it would save such a long tramp. Jenny Fm sparking
Jenny, sir ^lives just below the hill.''
" But you must not try that route again, Tommy. How old are
you !"
" Twenty last Christmas,. sir."
" What does Jenny say to your courtship F
'* She likes it main well, sir."
" And what does your mother say I"
" I 'aven't asked her, sir. I thought maybe you would tackle
mother."
"I will talk to her. Supi)Ose your mother has some serious ob-
jection to Jenny ^"
" She can't, sir ! Jenny makes 'eavenly dumplin's, sir. I was
goin' to get dumplin's when I fell down the rocks. And puddin's,
too. Mother gave me some of her new sugar to put on the dump-
lin's, but the paper got mashed when I fell." '
" Well," said Barston, " you must not talk too much now. Are
you comfortable t"
" Ko, sir. My leg hurts, my harm pains me, and my 'ead feels
all up in a knot like. Fm main hungry, too."
" After to-day you shall have plenty to eat. You will be fever-
ish to-day, the doctors say ^"
" Doctors!" said Tommy j "are there two!"
206 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
" There were two. But Dr. Cardon has gone back to London-- ^
I am going to stay here until you are better^ or I will ride down^^
every day if I go to Lavington. See if you cannot go to sleep,
and I will go talk to your mother.''
" Master Lacy !" said Tommy, " before you go, please tell me
what that Lunnun doctor did to my 'ead."
" He sawed a little hole in it !" Tommy snapped his eyes and
shivered. " He wished to see if you had any brains. You thought
you could go over the rocks because I did it f Haven't you seen
me go up the long ladder at the bam, with my hands, without
touching the rungs !"
" Yes, sir."
" Can you do it f
" No, sir ! nor nobody else only you. Fll never go near them
rocks again !" said Tommy, solemnly.
Barston found Mrs. Dawson in the big kitchen. She was intent
on hospitable cares, expecting her landlord to dine at Bipple. Since
her boy had been aroused from his stupor her mind was con-
siderably relieved, though she was still doubtful about the damage
to his limbs.
" You may dismiss your anxiety, dame," said Barston, seating
himself by her side, " Tommy will get well, but will require some
nursing. What do you think of getting Jenny to help youf"
"I dunno, Master Lacy," she answered; "does Tommy want
her f I tbink he might be satisfied with his old mother 1"
" He has not asked for her. But it would be a relief to you, I
fancy. You know he cannot move about for w^|)s. What sort
of a girl is Jenny ?"
" Oh, she is a good enough sort of girl," replied Mrs. Dawson,
discontentedly. " Tommy has been courting her, I s'pose. But
he is only a baby, and she is a slip of a girl."
" They are both tolerably well grown babies. It struck me that
Tommy might take Eipple Farm on a sub-lease from you, if he
had a wife, and as he would not marry any girl that you did not
recommend, perhaps it would not be amiss for you tp have her
here for a week or two and study her temper. I think she is a
pretty, modest girl, and would probably make a good wife for
Tommy. Nobody can have Eipple while you live, and I will not
consent to any arrangement that does not leave you mistress. It
will be more pleasant for you to have Tommy for your foreman
than any other. I see some eggs there looking fresh as daisies.
If you would allow me to say what I would like for dinner *"
TOMMY. SOT
" Indeed, Master Lacy, you would take a load off my mind. I
have been trying to think what in the world I could get for you."
" Bacon and eggs I I am going to the village, and will send up
a fish. Then a curd, and a mug of your home-brewed would
make a dinner tbr a king. I had a substantial breakfast and will
abstain from luncheon, and so at three o'clock I hope to dine. I
expect to buy the fish from Jenny.''
" Well, sir," said the dame, " you might ask her to bring it up.
She will be ready enough to come, no doubt; and if she coald stay
two weeks you might ask her mother maybe Tommy will get
tired of her by that time, or she get tired of him; if you think
children like thejn ought to be courting."
'^ Tommy will bo twenty-one next Christmas," observed Barston.
" As for the courting, you can manage all that when yon get the
girl here. I am so ignorant of that business that I cannot give
any advice. But the doctors agree that Tommy will be feverish
and restless, perhaps for some days, and you require help to nurse
him properly. I can easily find some other girl in the village if
you don't want Jenny."
'* " Oh, no, sir ; let her come."
" I could send her mother, probably," said Barston, reflecting.
" Probably that would be better. She has more experience."
" And she has half a dozen brats, besides her man I No, sir.
Better send Jenny. I am curious to see the girl anyway."
" Have your own way then, dame," said Barston, with an air of
resignation. " But don't tell Tommy. Let us surprise him."
'' That was a bit of diplomacy," said Swiss to himself, as he
descended the face of the clift*. " As a general rule you are safe
when you oppose obstacles in the way of women. The dear angels
like to overcome difficulties. I wonder if I shall have to manage
Eet in that way ^if I ever get her ! Here is my Proseuche 1" Yield-
ing to the conceit, which he did not attempt to analyze, he drew
off his boots and sat down at the foot of the great boulder. Here
he rested, with his face upturned to the bright sky.
" I have all things, and abound 1" he said at last, lifting his
hands towards the heavens, " and every expiration should be a
psalm of praise. Yet I feel that some trial is before me still. Oh,
Merciful ! give wisdom and strength as I shall need 1" and then,
with passionate earnestness, as he stood upright, " in Thy time
and in Thy way give me my darling, my Eet 1"
And as he passed on downward, from crag to crag, the pleasant
208 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
plash and murmur of the little streamlet followed him, fretting
over its rough bed, dropping in tiny cascades, spreading out in
miniature lakes, or gliding swiftly over long reaches of smooth
rock, it sang the same monotonous song, a succession of echoes of
his last word" Ret, Ret, Ret P
Jenny was in the porch of the cottage, behind the rough bench
that held her scaly merchandise. She knew Master Lacy, and
put her apron to her eyes as he approached,
" I want the best fish you have, Jenny," he said, " and I want
you to take it to the farm. Where is your mother T"
" Here I be, your honour," said Mrs. Potter, waddling into view,
and dropping a fat curtesy. Two or three chubby children fol-
lowed her, and a baby somewhere in the interior squalled dismally.
" Whist, babby ! Run iu, Jenny, and rock him I"
" Ah, Mrs. Potter, I am about to ask a favour. Tommy Dawson
is hui*t, you know ^
" Yes, sir ; my Sam helped carry him home. Is he hurted bad,
sir!" Jenny lingered and the baby squalled.
" Kot dangerously. He will get well ^" Jenny threw up her
hands and ran in, and the baby subsided ; '' but," continued Barsj-
ton, "he has broken some bones, and will be abed for weeks.
Can you spare one of your children to help his mother nurse him?
What a splendid sole ! I must have that for dinner I Can you
send it to the farm !"
" Surely. Would Jenny do, sir ? The others are na old
enough. And Jenny sells the fish, too. I can ill spare her.'^
"I will pay her a pound a week, dame," said Barstonj "or
rather I will pay you."
" Weel !" said Mrs. Potter, who came from the canny north, " I
canna' gainsay your honour. Ye'U count the day i' the wage ?"
" Certainly. And here is a week's pay in advance. Can she
carry the sole with herF
"Hoot, ay! The gowd is bright and bonny! How much?
What your honour pleases, just. I'll no chaffer wi' you aboot the
fish. Tak' it at your ain price, sir. If I had it in Lunnun
'twould fetch half a crown."
" There is the half crown, dame. Take good care of that baby.
I think he will make a great singer when he is grown !"
" Ay, ay ! My Sam is a gay singer, though he's a bit hoarse
wi' the salt water. I'll send Jenny as soon as she gathers some
cla'es. Gude mornin' to your honour ! Are ye gaun to walk abune
the cliff t The tide will be in by noon."
SOME REVELATIONS, 209
" I am going out to meet it/' answered Barston. " The sea and
I are old friends. Good day, dame !"
" I was a fule to say aught aboot the half crown," said Mrs.
Potter, as Swiss departed, *^ if I had held my auld jaw he'd a gin
me three shillin' I Here, lassie! Awa' wi' you. Gather up some
duds and gang to Eipple. Ye're to abide there twa weeks to help
his mither nurse your Jo. Ye'U no want that blue gownd V^
** Oh, mother ! I'll be there two Sabbath days P
" Aweel tak' it alang, lassie. But gin you do ony dirty wark,
dinna spoil your cla'es ! Ye look weel pleasit to leave your puir
auld mither an' the bairns."
" Oh, mother, you did not fall down the cliff and get hurted,"
said Jenny 5 " besides, mother, a pound a week ^"
" Go 'lang wi' your clatter, lassie. Ye need na just chatter aboot
the pound. I'll put it awa' for you again your weddin'."
After Swiss dined he looked in upon the wounded youth.
Jenny was seated at the head of the bed, blushing a little, and
knitting a little, and talking in a low tone. Tommy's nose and
chin, which had escaped abrasion in his fall, were separated by
an interval of about ten inches, owing to the chasm made in his
countenance by his pleasant smile.
Swiss lighted his cigar and strolled out towards the main road.
A great oak stood near the stile, and under its shade he sat and
smoked. A cloud of dust came down from Lavington, and a
horseman with it, and as he drew rein at the stile and the dust
blew away, Swiss saw the rector, whose comely countenance was
shadowed by gloom and anger and deep distress.
A
OHAPTEE XL.
SonE Eeyelations.
S the horseman approached, Barston began to sing in a
plaintive minor
*' Who travels along this road so late,
Compagnon de la Marjolaioe,
Who travels along this road so late?
Always gay I"
^^But that last line is false. He looks as glum as a sexton I
What a funereal aspect ! My dear Johnny, is aught amiss ! The
14
210 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
ladies ! Nellie ! Speak, man I Your silence is portentous V^ As
he spoke he threw the gate open, and the rector rode in the lane
and dismounted.
" Nothing the matter, Barston,'' he said, not noticing his friend's
extended hand. " Nothing amiss, except with me !^
Barston peered anxiously in the rector's troubled face, secured
the horse by throwing the bridle over a bough of the tree, and sat
do\Mi on the stile by Mr. Harwood's side.
"Can you tell me, Johnny!"
" Yes ; if you need to be told. Oh, Swiss ! how cruelly you
have wounded me !"
" I f said Barston, astonished. " I ! cruel, and to you f "
" Yes, cruel ! Where was the need of your secrecy, your de-
ception ? I cannot believe it of you, Swiss, although I know the
miserable truth."
" What do you mean, Johnny f" said Swiss, patiently.
"I mean your work in Stiriing! Your cunning device to get
rid of me, sending me to the castle ! and then your abrupt flight
after you had thoroughly befooled me, and made me turn myself
into a donkey I The very child could see it ! She called me a
donkey ! And before your ^your wife, too !"
Barston's eyes dilated.
" This marriage, Swiss I It is horrible every way ! What do
you put on that astonished expression for f Do you know nothing
of a secret Scotch marriage in Stirling yesterday F
"Yes. I know of a marriage. It was not exactly according to
conventional rule, but I know it is legal. Too late to resist the
fates, Johnny ! I supiwse it had to be."
"And why did you not tell me? What fiend prompted you to
deceive your friend ! Oh, Swiss, I could not have so used you, if
my life depended upon it."
Swiss took out his pocket-book and rapidly wrote several rows
of figures upon a blank leaf. He then tore out the leaf and handed
it and the pencil to the rector.
" Will you oblige me by casting up that sum t" he said, politely.
" I am anxious to know the total."
The rector glanced at the paper a moment, and then wrote the
addition at the bottom, beginning with the left hand figure. Bars-
ton gravely examined the sum, nodded his head, and threw the
paper on the ground.
" Excuse me, .Parson I" he said, gently, " but I noticed that you
added from left to right. Is that your usual habit F
SOME REVELATIONS. 211
" Certainly. I always add all the figures at once. It is easier
and more accurate. That is, more certainly accurate."
"The best writers upon psychological phenomena," said Swiss,
oracularly, " agree that the mastery of figures is a proof of sanity.
Now, the ability to add sums of five figures, and five rows of them
at one operation of the mind, must demonstrate the normal condi-
tion of the mental faculties. It is true that there have been cases
well authenticated, in which this wonderful mastery of mathemat-
ical problems was manifested by idiots I But, so far as I know,
this power has never been shown during temporary derangement.
It would contradict the most firmly established theories of psy-
chology. The mental organism may, however, be permanently de-
ranged in some of its parts. And analogy seems to teach that as
a man may be blind, and yet hear, so he may be able to cypher,
and yet insane 1 However, a more satisfactory solution of the
mystery may be found in a different form of mania, such as de-
lirium tremens. "Johnny!" he continued, suddenly, "excuse
me, but have you had anything unusual to drink lately ?"
"No! certainly not! What do you mean by this exhibition of
lunacy? Stay! Yes, I had! That Scotch wretch that married
you gave me some stuff that he called " Hieiand jew." I verily
believe it poisoned me ! I have not been in my right mind since,
and I have a constant taste of turpentine in my throat."
"Ah !" said Barston, greatly relieved, " slightly inebriated ; well,
we are progressing. And now to dispel the mists from your poor
mind. First : I am not married to any Scotch wretch !"
" Who said you were? Are you married to Clare Tarn worth F
" Whew !" said Swiss, with a prolonged whistle. " Why, Johnny,
I should as soon think of marrying the dev elopement of matured
maternity, known vulgarly as Satan's grandmother."
A flash of joy spread over the rector's face ! "Oh, Swiss, I know
you are not lying! I must be drunk, I suppose! Still, the com-
parison is not flattering to Miss Clare !"
" I mean no disrespect to her. Parson," answered Swiss, coolly.
" I only mean, you blind, inebriated mole, that I do love another
darling, precious, peerless woman. If I ever marry, I shall marry
her. Miss Tamworth ! Why, you deceitful villain, do I not know
that you are dying for her yourself ! How dare you talk such bosh ?
But it is not you, it is Scotch whiskey ^the ^Hielaud jew' that
speaks. Oh, Johnny, do you not know that my soul is wrapped
up in Eet !"
213 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
I
" Eet ! Swiss, what can I say, dear brother! What joy it would
give me to call you brother indeed. Eet I Alas ! Swiss, her heart
is in the tomb."
" Is itf said Swiss, indifferently. "Well then, I will go into
the tomb after it. It is too precious a heart to stay in such an
unwholesome locality. But, Johnny, you must not tell. If I get
. Eet, it must be by my own prowess. I had to tell you."
" I will not say a word, Swiss." replied the rector, slipping his
arm around his friend's burly form. " Now, tell me what that
marriage means!"
" Kitty and Butler were married, I presume," answered Bar-
ston. '- For some unknown reason Kitty assumed some other name."
" And Butler, too," said the rector.
" Did he! Well, I met Kitty afterwards. I had been taking a
gallop with Nellie. Kitty plied me with eager questions touching
the validity of Scotch marriages under feigned names, and I in-
ferred that she had * gone and done it.' By the bye, I noticed
Lady Lacy's brooch on her breast. When I got back to the inn I
found Mrs. Dawson's telegram. I left it for you, and you know all
the rest."
" Donkey !" said the Parson, reflecting. " That is exactly the
word. If I had not been drunk, or a donkey, I should have known
better than to abuse that angel I I don't know what I said to her,
and I am afraid to look her in the face again !"
" You mean Kitty !" said Swiss, puzzled.
"Kitty be blowed!" said the rector in wrath ; "I mean that
dear, injured, insulted Clare ! Swiss, I was a regular brute. I
scarcely saw Eet at all, and after saying the rudest things I could
think of, I told Clare I would not go to the Highlands with her, as
I had clerical duties calling me home ! Oh, what a precious don-
key !"
" Don't be calling young ladies such hard names. Parson," said
Barston. " Your qualifying adjective hardly atones for the uncom-
I)limentary noun. Besides, it is specially mean, as she is not here !''
The rector gazed at Barston's sober face vacantly.
"What did you mean, Johnny, by Butler's assumed name!
did he take my name !"
" Yes."
" Did you see it !"
" No. Macdower, that is, the magistrate who married them,
said it was Clare Tamworth and Lacy something. He could not
remember your patronymic ; said it ^a^ ouWaa^iala.."
SOME REVELATIONS. 213
"That is queer, tx)o," said Barston, thoughtfully. "One of my
breed had a castle iu olden times within five miles of Stirling, and
the ruins of * Barston's Hold ' are still there."
" I am not sure that Macdower did not reverse the names," said
the rector, trying to recall the interview j " perhaps he said some-
thing Lacy."
" Where are you going F said Swiss, as the rector led his horse
from under the tree.
" Back I To Lavington now, to Stirling to-night, to the Tros-
sachs to-morrow, and I shall give no sleep to my eyelids until
Clare forgives me."
" And youi' clerical duties f" said Swiss, slyly.
" I leave them in your hands, Swiss, li you will put on a gown
you may preach for me. Kot in the church, however ; but you
may invite the congregation out in the churchyard, and give them
some of your latest vagaries I"
"I am afraid they have had some of them at second-hand,
Johnny, already," said Swiss, with cool impudence.
" That is true," said the candid Parson, " but I always had quo-
tation marks in the written sermon, Swiss. Good bye, you dear
old rascal I I love you dearly !"
As the rector galloped away, raising another cloud of dust, Bar-
ston reseated himself on the stile and lighted a fresh cigar.
" It is a queer story," he muttered ; " what design had the fel-
low in taking my name f and he swore with such a loyal air that
he had not assumed a name ! How could I be deceived by his
bare assertion t I remember his haughty manner, too, and thought
he looked so thoroughbred while he was lying ! Bah ! I must not
trust my instincts so implicitly hereafter."
He leaned back against the trunk of the huge oak, pulled his
hat over his face and smoked, his mind filled with a thousand
conflicting thoughts. A step aroused him, and looking over the
hedge he saw a pedestrian coming up the road. Barston was con-
cealed by the trunk of the tree, and he sat quietly until the man
passed him, walking with springing step in the direction of Laving-
ton. There was something in his gait that attracted Barston, and
he gazed after him, fascinated. As Butler, for it was he, disap-
peared where the road turned, Swiss slipped down from the stile
and threw his cigar away ; his eyes were ablaze and his face pal-
lid as he muttered :
" Elbert Lacy I by the three kings !"
214 THE LAGY DIAMONDS.
CHAPTER XLI.
The Rector's Chase.
THE horse that bore the rector so rapidly from Ripple Farm
could not speak English, and he therefore did his swearing
in snorts that were perfectly intelligible, whenever JVIr. Harwood
dug the spurs in his flank. There was no need of haste either, as
no train would leave Lavingtou for two hours. When he arrived
at the rectory, he busied himself with preparations for his return
journey, and partook of a substantial dinner with good appetite.
At last the hour of departure came, and as the train passed out
of the station, he began to regret that he had not insisted upon
bringing Barston with him, to beguile the tedium of the journey.
" There were so many things to consult him about 1'^ he thought,
" and he could have talked to me about Ret, and listened to me
talking of Clare. Poor fellow I He does not know how hopeless
his case is, and I could not bear to tell him. I have tried forty
times to get Ret to talk of him since he saw her, but could never
induce her to mention his name. She has no idea of his mad pas-
sion either, and as soon as he blurts it out, which he is sure to do,
she will take care that he has no second opportunity I I could,
not even get her interest awakened in that lost letter, in which he
sent her a lot of messages. I must certainly warn him before he
sees her, and tell him the exact truth about her sentiments. He
looked so serene when I hinted that she cherished Jack's memory
so tenderly, that it would be cruel to enlighten him. Poor Swiss 1
He has forbidden me to speak of his hopes to Ret, but I can at
least sound his praises to her. It is a good tiling that she is so
patient a listener, anyhow.
" I wish I could feel as serene touching my api)roaching expla-
nations to Clare I What can I say ? Swiss thinks that dreadful
whiskey was to blame. Suppose I adopt that hypothesis ? It is
worth a trial 1 Pll do it."
Then the rector fell asleep and dreamed that he had Barston and
Ret before him at the altar. He went all through the marriage
service, Mr. Butler giving the bride away. * When it was all done
and he approached to congratulate Ret, behold it was Clare I He
had made a mistake, and got the wrong lady 1 While he stood
stupefied, and wondering how the error could be rectified, KeUie
THE BEGTORS CHASE. 215
came waddling up the aisle and stood before him, nodding gravely
and regarding him with her peculiar, steadfast gaze. Then point-
ing to Clare and to him alternately, she said, " Donkeys !" and
waddled out of the church. He was thoroughly miserable, and
looked at Mr. Macdower's coming up through the floor of the tran.
sept as a very natural proceeding. And when the Scot, with his
eyes twinkling, offered him a bottle of "jew," he felt impelled to
accept the detestable draught. Before he swallowed it, however,
the church door banged, the beU rang, and the old sexton bawled
in his ear " Ticket, please !"
"Where are we, guard F he inquired, shaking himself awake.
" Brummagen, sir 1 Ticket, sir I Thankee sir, all right 1" and the
door banged and locked.
" That sort of dreaming won't do 1" said the rector, " that Scotch
rascal had almost got the stuff down my throat ! I believe it
would have choked me, even in a dream.''
In the gra^ morning light, the tall chimneys of Glasgow appear-
ed. The rector had decided to reverse the route that the ladies
projected, hoping to meet them, as he could not overtake them.
They were to stop at the " Queen's Hotel" in Glasgow, and he was
rejoiced to find upon inquiry that they had not arrived. By the
first train for Loch Lomond he was off again, and when at length
he was on board the little steamer, and gliding over the surface of
the loch, he felt sure that he had them before him. Arriving at
Inversnaid, he learned there was a coach due from Loch Katrine,
later in the day, and it was possible that the ladies might arrive,
and proceed to Glasgow that afternoon. He decided to wait.
It was hard work. The boots, who was supposed to know every,
thing, informed him that the coach would arrive in two hours.
One hundred and twenty minutes to be employed in some way.
He would climb the mountain behind the inn. It was called Ben-
jamin something. The view from the summit would certainly
repay him for the toil, and the time would be sped at least. It
was a small affair, but would occupy sixty minutes, anyhow.
Fifteen minutes' brisk walking brought him to a halting place,
and he was quite content to sit on a fragment of rock and rest
awhile. He seemed to be rather farther from the summit than
when he began the ascent. But the placid sheet of water, spread
out at his feet, was very beautiful, and as the great body of the
loch was hidden by a projecting crag, he would surmount that, and
then enjoy a wider view. Panting, after a prolonged scramble, he
216 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
sat down again and took a large drink of lovely scenery. The
summit of this Benjamin was still provokingly distant, and he
began to doubt his ability to reach it and return within two hours.
He looked at his watch. The two hours were gone !
The rector never knew how he quitted Benjamin. But when
he reached the plateau, a hundred feet above the inn, he saw the
little steamer speediug down the loch, bearing Eet and Clare,
both of whom he clearly recognized, seated upon the deck 1
" Gone ! Dear me !" said Mr. Harwood.
This mild expletiv^e was very unsatisfactory. But the good Par-
son never thought of using any of the more emphatic phrases
wherewith men usually vent their wrath. No escape from Inver-
snaid was possible until morning. The rector meekly accepted
the inevitable, and forced himself to say : "It is all for the best I^
At the same time ho would have paid twenty-five pounds cheer-
fully for any decent pretext for tears.
Like a sensible man, he went directly to the source of relief, in
so far as relief from disappointment is attainable beneath the
skies. He went to ](vork. And the best sort of work to bring
comfort and placidity is the work of composition. The rector
shut himself up in his room and wrote a sermon. His text was,
"Tribulation worketh patience." It was scholarly, rhetorical,
evangelical. And he went to bed after it and slept soundly.
When he reached Glasgow he learned that the ladies had spent
the night at the " Queen's," and departed for Liverpool that morn-
ing, He took the first train and followed them, not knowhig any-
thing about their intentions, except that Clifton was their objective
point. They were a day ahead of him now and the chase was
getting hopeless.
" Lime Street Station, sir f asked the guard, when he sur-
rendered his ticket.
" Yes," replied the Parson. He did not know anything concern-
ing Lime street, but he was indifferent about stations.
" All right, sir. This carriage goes to Lime street." *
In due time Lime street was reached. The rector crushed his
hat against the door frame when he emerged from the carriage.
His neckcloth was awry, and he looked dilapidated and seedy as
he walked down the platform, a porter following with his port-
manteau. He glanced about incuriously at the throngs hurrying
out of his train and at other throngs hurrying into another train
on the opposite platform, and peace entered his soul as he saw his
THE REOTORS 0EA8E. 217
sister and Miss Tarn worth entering a carriage witliin twenty yards
of bim.
" Hillo, sir I'' said the porter, as Mr. Harwood bounded across
the rails, contrary to all rule, " that's not the way ! I'm blest if
he a'nt gone for the down train ! He's been and 'ad something
'eavy to drink ! Beg parding, sir, but this is the wrong way !"
" On the contrary, my friend," replied the rector, with beaming
countenance, " this is the first step I have taken in the right way
for a week ! My dear Eet, I have been chasing you three days.
Miss Tamworth, I have not seen the sun shine since we parted.
And there's !N'ellie ! Porter, put the portmanteau under the seat.
Here's a shilling."
In two minutes the train slipped noiselessly out of the station,
and in five more it was roaring through a long tunnel. While
they were in the darkness Mr. Harwood touched Miss Clare's
hand and whispered :
" Only forgive me this time !"
When they came into the light again, Nellie requested her uncle
to take her on his knee. She inspected him intently, and en-
deavoured to adjust his neckcloth. He was hilarious, and totally
unconscious of crushed hat and travel stains. Lady Lacy asked
him a string of questions touching his sudden flight to Laving-
ton and his sudden return. His replies were confused and un-
satisfactory. Did he go to see Tommy Dawson ? No, but he had
been to Ripple and seen Swiss. How was Tommy % He really
forgot to ask. How long was he in Lavington ? Only an hour
or two. What in the world were the " clerical duties " that made
such a journey necessary ? He stammered something about post-
poning them. And then Nellie asked :
" How you get your hat mashed, uncle 'P
While this was progressing, and while the abashed Parson was
trying to get the kinks out of his hat. Miss Tamworth was slyly
watching him. He had left her sorrowfully, indignantly, majesti-
cally, and he had returned in such a jolly mood that he wa3
positively chuckling with delight, with a hat in the condition
usually called " shocking bad." Kitty, who had caused all the
trouble, was sitting demure and silent in the comer of the carriage,
and the rector had greeted her with a kind smile when he entered.
There was only one solution of the problem in Clare's mind :
" Delirium thingamy I"
The rector was devoured with anxiety to explain to Miss Tarn-
218 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
worth his " brutal '' conduct at Stirling. If he could only get live
minutes alone with her! And he stole furtive glances at her
through I^ellie's curls, trying to see some token of forgiveness in
her grave face.
Miss Tamworth was perplexed to know how to keep out of the
Parson's reach. She saw very plainly the " mania '^ in his eyes,
and would about as soon accord " five minutes alone" to a laugh-
ing hyena as to the jocular Parson. After his trials of the preced-
ing days the revulsion was great, and it is a marvel that he
behaved as decorously as he did.
Kellie was excited and restless. She fell asleep on his shoulder
when tired out, her golden tresses mingling with his brown
whiskers. He would not allow her to be disturbed. They were
a very quiet party. When Nellie's nap was over, she announced
a proposition that was startling, but which all her hearers
thought was very just.
" When we get to Clifton, uncle,'' she said, " there will be some
Donkeys there F
OHAPTEE XLII.
The Donkeys.
THE Eeverend John Harwood spent two days at the hotel in
. Clifton. Miss Tam worth's inheritance was scattered all over
that town and Bristol, yielding her a handsome revenue. Her an-
cestral residence, Yincent Lodge, was nearly a mile from the town,
and the rector walked out in that direction on the third day after
their arrival. Before he had traversed half the distance he met
the ladies and !N'ellie, who were on their way to Clifton Downs. It
was a lovely morning, in which the dying spring was giving place
to the incoming summer.
" I have purposely avoided the Downs," he said, after the ex-
change of greetings, " until Miss Clare would condescend to intro-
duce me. May I join you in your walk f
" We were coming for you," answered Lady Lacy, taking his
arm. " Nellie, walk with Clare while I talk to your uncle."
This was not the precise arrangement the rector desired. Like
a blundering masculine, he would have " changed partners " at
the start, but his quick-witted sister knew better. She had
already decided how to give him his opportunity.
THE DONKEYS. 219
/ " I am very much interested in that poor boy/' said Lady Lacy.
** Surely you heard something about him at Lavington F
" Kot much, Eet. I met Dr. Holly, who told me the boy had
broken all his bones and mashed his head in a fall from the cliffs
at Hippie. I think he said they had mended him.''
" They F
'^ Yes. Swiss took his old preceptor with him, Doctor Cardon.
You have heard of him ? It is that fellow in London who saws a
man up into small pieces and then sews him up again as good as
uew. Eet, it is not polite to turn Miss Tamworth over to Nellie."
" Never mind Miss Tamworth. You shall escort her presently
as soon as you tell me all you know about Tommy."
" I think that is all. Holly says they did something to the lad's
skull ^put a pan on it, or something of the sort. He is all right.
Needs nursing, and Swiss has quietly settled himself down to do
it. He is a glorious fellow, Eet."
" Tommy f said Eet, innocently.
^' No, Swiss." He paused a moment, reflecting, then added :
"Eet, of all the specimens of unselfish, manly, truthful, kind and
wise men that I have ever met, Swiss is the best ! Nobody under-
stands him except his poor friend, Parson Johnny, and he will go
to his grave unappreciated by an ignorant world."
" Well," responded Eet, her cheeks aglow with the exercise in
the sweet air of the Downs, " after that ante-mortem paneg^Tic
you may take Clare. Nellie, come walk with mamma."
Miss Tamworth had caught the same ruddy hue, from a similar
cause. She put her dainty glove on the Parson's offered arm, as
I^ellie and her mother hastened ahead in a regular romp. The
hour was early, and the Downs were depopulated.
^' You must listen to me patiently. Miss Tamworth," he began,
-with grave precision. " I have to explain my misconduct the other
day, and throw myself upon your mercy for pardon. I was not
myself."
" I suppose not," was the grim rejoinder. " I hope you had a
satisfactory reason for getting into that state. You have had a
reputation for very peculiar abstemiousness, which would be seri-
ously damaged if your parishioners should see you ^
" Upon my honour, Clare," answered the rector, anxiously, " I
did not know what the horrid stuff was. Swiss says I was inebri-
ated !"
" Of course !"
220 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
" That Scotchman gave it to me. I was faint and sick. How
could it be otherwise when he told me he had just married Clare
Tarn worth I''
" What do you say F
" I say, Mr. Macdower told me he had married a lovely lady that
morning to some Mr. Lacy ! He said she wore a diamond brooch
composed of three lilies. I have seen it on your neck a dozen
times. He said her name was Clare Tam worth !"
"And you believed him?" she answered, withdrawing her hand
from his arm. " You thought I I had contracted a secret mar-
riage ! What have I done that you should think so meanly of me F
and she put her handkerchief to her eyes.
" Clare !" said Parson Johnny, " come sit down here. Can you
make no allowances "
"None!'' she answered, taking the indicated seat, and slyly
watching his troubled face through the flimsy kerchief.
" I had come from Laviugton with enough courage mustered
up to ask you to be my wife. I thought I would tell you how
sincerely I admired and loved you. I had gained my own con-
sent to ask you to forego all the brilliant prospects that were
before you, and to marry a poor country Parson, who had nothing
to plead but an honest affection nothing to offer but a life-long
devotion. And when the magistrate told me, with cold precision,
that you were married "
" You did all you could to get delirium thingamy I" said Clare,
uncovering her eyes; " and when you joined us the other day at
Liverpool with your hat mashed ^"
" That was an accident, Clare," answered the discomfited rector.
" I struck my hat against the car."
" And your eyes blazing with excitement," continued the lady,
not noticing his interruption, " looking so wild that I was posi-
tively afraid of you ^
" That was joy at seeing you again, Clare. I love you, and I
cannot make my eyes tell lies ! I can scarcely refrain from clasp-
ing you in my arms, even now !"
" You had better !" retorted Clare with a little scream ; " where
are you going If"
"Anywhere? I see that you can never love me, and the
wretchedness I suffer away from you is more tolerable than the
agony of being near you, and keeping silent upon the only subject
that interests me. Do you think I would be brute enough to
THE DONKEYS. 221
annoy you with protestations that are so distasteful to you ! You
have had a lot of fellows hanging around you, and talking bosh
so long that you have no appetite for earnest, heartfelt, unchange-
able devotion 1 Ah I if you could only have loved me I But I am
dumb \^
"Kone of the ^fellows' ever said such cross things to me as you
say I'' replied Clare, piteously, dropping a tear or two. They keep
a supply of them, reader, those angels, and drown a poor thick-
skulled man with a spoonful at their good pleasure! "Pray
don't leave me here alone! Ret is out of sight and hearing ! Any
one of the ^fellows' would have offered me his arm, instead of
flying off in a rage I Before I said ^ no,' too I"
" It is not necessary to say no, Clare. You can look no, and
act no without speaking.''
"Dear mel" she said, with a sigh, as she took his arm again;
" one must regulate all one's looks and acts, too I How long have
you been ^imagining yourself in love with poor mef
" I don't know when I did Tiot love you, Clare. I thought you
liked Swiss ^
" Mr. Barston !" said she, with another charming little scream.
" I should as soon think of marrying the Great Mogul 1"
" Why that is what he said about you I" said the rector, with
delicious simplicity.
u Sir \p
" I mean ^I thought you had married him ! That Scotchman
said a Mr. Lacy something so I went to Lavington and asked
him."
" And he said he would as soon marry the Great Mogul f
"1^0. He mentioned some other dignitary. I forget. Oh,
Clare, will you promise to keep a secret f^
" Yes !" she answered, eagerly. That is their way, reader, those
angels ! They will promise anything to hear a secret.
"Well, poor Swiss loves Ret! He charged me most sternly
never to mention it. And I have told you, you see, at once. But
I love you so there I am done I"
" You may go on I" she answered, leaning a little more on his
arm, " I sujjpose I ought to hear all you have to say."
" But I have said all. I love you 1 I love you ! Ah, if you
could only say so to me ! Could I make you love me, Clare, by
any self-denial, any endurance, any patient waiting?"
"In two or three years," said Miss Tam worth, slowly and
222 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
shyly" I might like you a little. Men are such horrid, cross,
impulsive, unreasonable things, that I Let go my hand, sir !
I hear somebody coming."
" Do you love me a little nowy Clare F said the rector.
" I don't know 1 If you don't get delirium thingamy any more,
and dash off, leaving me heart-broken with your cruel words, I
will try to forgive you this time.''
" Do you love me a little !"
" Just a little grain, perhaps. Ah I there is somebody."
'^ Oh, mamma I" said l^ellie, rushing into view, " here are the
Jovely donkeys!" and she pointed at a string of those attractive
quadrupeds, just appearing upon the Downs.
" Thank fortune 1" said the relieved rector, " she don't mean us.'
"What conspiracies are you two plotting?" said Lady Lacy.
"You have been an hour down there !"
" I have been trying to get a sister for you, Eet," answered her
brother 5 " ask Clare if I have succeeded."
" My darling !" said Lady Lacy, slipping her arm round Miss
Tamworth's waist. " Come away for a run I I am so happy !"
Clare kissed her hand to the rector as she tripped away, and,
turning her blushing face to Ret, whispered,
" So am I !"
The rector took Nellie on his shoulder, and went to meet the
donkeys. The leader had made up his mind suddenly that the
Downs was not an attractive locality. He laid his ears back, and
planted his fore feet firmly in the sod, refusing to move. His
driver belaboured his flanks with a switch of about two inches in
diameter without effect. While Mr. Harwood waited for the
quadruped to alter his mind the ladies approached.
" I would recommend that picture to your serious considera-
tion," said Miss Tamworth. " You can judge how the Harwood
obstinacy looks !"
Mr. Harwood took the bridle from the hand of the driver, patted
the vicious little brute on the neck, and persuaded him to follow.
He placed Nellie in the saddle, and the donkey finding she was a
light weight, consented to amble gently along. The rector nodded
triumphantly as he moved away.
" Learn a lesson yourself. Miss Clare," he said ; " you see what
can be accomplished by kindness. Pet the Harwoods a little and
you can lead them where you will!"
NELLIE LOST. 228
CHAPTER XLIII.
Nellie Lost.
TOMMY DAWSON recovered slowly. Dr. Holly kept him
abed perhaps a little longer than was necessary, partly be-
cause he wished the bones to "knit" well and partly because
Barston paid the guinea punctually at each ^isit. The patient did
not murmur 5 he was fed judiciously, and Jenny was flitting in and
out all day. Swiss rode down daily, sometimes from the village
and sometimes from Oakland. The rector wrote to him twice a
week, and on Saturdays Barston met him at the station as Mr.
Harwood came down regularly to attend to the " clerical duties '^
of Sunday. By the earliest train on Monday he was off again,
pining for " the air of the Downs.''
When Tommy was fairly out, hobbling about on crutches, Mr;
Barston went to London to make purchases. He was adorning
his home elaborately. New ftirniture arrived at the Lavington
station in quantity, and the ladies of the Union Mission, half
churchwomen and half dissenters, exchanged harmless gossip
about Oakland and its lord. That he was setting his house in
order was plain, and the natural inference was that he was about
to " settle down."
Settling down usually means matrimony.
"It is certainly some London lady," said Miss Listpn. She
was the daughter of the Honourable Marmaduke Listen, who was
cousin to Lord Lappermilk. Mr. Listen lived very economically
on his small income, and hoped for the time when dear Lucy would
make some gentleman happy, and leave him the whole of his
scanty revenue for his personal use. As she was thirty, and
indeed had been thirty for an indefinite number of years, Mr.
Listen manifested commendable perseverance in hope. Miss Lucy
was a devoted churchwoman, and thought the rector was lovely.
" I don't believe it is any lady," said Miss Nevill. She was the
young sister of Major Nevill, a gouty old bachelor, living on half
pay. He had been in the Crimea and knew Mr. Barston. " Brother
says Mr. Barston is too sensible a man to marry. He thinks he is
only fitting up a bachelor establishment."
" He was at Spurgeon's Tabernacle last Sunday," said Miss Bui-
224 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
lion, the banker's daughter ; " probably he is going to marry sor*^^
dissenting damsel out of that flock."
e
" More likely he will start off for the Albert !N"yanza or t
mountains of the moon,'' said Miss Dora Bullion, "as soon as t-^^
has ftirnished his house. I believe he has been everywhere els^^ ^
" Mr. ]\Iacdower says he was over in America, where they a:
fighting," said Miss Oswald. She was a member of the Presb;
terian flock, and was supposed to have designg upon her paste.
'And lie was part surgeon, part missionary and part hospil
nurse. He brought letters to Mr. Macdower from one of hr^
cousins in North Carolina."
" Madame Laplace says he was in Paris last week," said Mis .^
Frippery. She was the fashionable lady of Lavington, whos^
whole soul was swallowed up in dress. " She met him in the Pas-
sage de L'Orme, where she buys her millinery. He was buying ^^
hat, trimmed with real lace ; it was a Leghorn 5 the flowers were th^^
most expensive he could buy. Madame says it was totally out oi
style for any grown person. She saw him write on the back of hu
card, ^ For my darling,' and he dropped the card in the box.
took it away with him, so she could not tell what address he put:^
upon it. It cost a hundred francs !"
" A hundred francs 1" said the rest in chorus.
" Only four pounds, you know," said Miss Frippery. " I think:
that was quite moderate, considering how rich he is. Of course
it was for a present 5 for his darling ! Thai seems to me to settle
the question of a bachelor establishment I"
Little Nellie got the hat by express and was airing it on Clif-
ton Downs at the very moment that the amiable ladies were dis-
cussing it.
Why di d not Barston go to Clifton t He had not been invited,
and he was shy.
The rector was- so engrossed in his own courtship, that he did
not think often of his friend. When he did, he supposed he was
still occupied with Tommy. On Saturdays he could not talk
much, as he always had his sermon to write. Sunday was filled
up with church services and needful pastoral visitations, and Mon-
day carried him back to Clare. The letters he wrote to Barston
were brief, and the charming egotfsm of a happy lover made him
blind to everything outside the walls of his paradise.
Miss Tamworth liked Mr. Barston very much ; but she liked the
rector more. If the thought of having Swiss at Clifton occurred
NELLIE LOST, 225
to her, she did not entertain it long. The consequence would be
to take Parson Johnny off now and again. Mr. Barston could
not always gallop about the country with Nellie, and there was
nobody else to entertain him but Eet. Ret did not fancy him.
She had not heard her mention his name for years. And when
she tried to make him the subject of conversation, Lady Lacy
maintained a cold and dignified silence. There was some bad feel-
ing between them, perhai)s growing out of the Lacy inheritance,
of whi5h Clare had heard some gossip somewhere probably from
Lord Lappermilk, who investigated rent-rolls of marriageable
females on principle. It would be horrid to bring an uncon-
genial companion there to annoy poor Ret. So Miss Clare rea-
soned.
"Poor Ret" thought of Mr. Barston, too. ^Notwithstanding
the rooted dislike which Miss Tam worth had detected. Lady Lacy
spent many hours in the perusal of some old letters. She had
three of them, all written to the rector. The first was written
immediately after Sir John Lacy's death. The second was written
on the eve of Barston's last voyage. The third was the short
scrawl, left at the " Castle Inn," at Stirling. The gentle reader
has seen them all.
Following the suggestion so kindly dropped by Miss Clare, we
may account for Lady Lacy's conduct in this regard. She was too
good to nourish enmity without just cause. She was too good to
set an evil example of non-love to her neighbour 5 so she always
locked herself in her room when she perused the letters. Her
object, of course, was to detect the hidden villainy in Mr. Bars-
ton's character. And her innate goodness of heart always made
her eyes humid when she read these epistles (and she always
read every word of all of them), and she always blushed when she
put them carefully away under lock and key, being ashamed of
the rascality they unfolded, and sorrowful for the general wicked-
ness of mankind. It was very remarkable, and altogether inex-
plicable also, that she usually concluded these exercises by wring-
ing her hands, and saying
" Oh, if I only could be certain that Mr. DeVere was telling
lies ! and that Mr. Bottomry was telling lies I I think I could die
happy I"
As this little accomplishment distinguished the two gentlemen
she named, it is to be hoped that her pious desire wiU be gratified
before this truthful narrative is finished, j^d as the reader will
16
\
226 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
be curious to know what special instance of mendacity Ret was
anxious about, that, also, shall be revealed in due time.
The peculiar relations subsisting betwixt Ket and Swiss were
known to themselves alonCv l^either of them had ever mentioned
the interesting conversation that occurred at their last interview.
To Swiss it was full of mystery. To Ret much of the mystery was
now explained. But there was no proper opportunity afforded for
the explanations that would have broken down all the barriers
separating these loving hearts. Lady Lacy rose from the perusal
of the letters each time with the conviction that Barston loved
her still, and that he would never relinquish her. Why he delayed
the renewal of his suit she could not imagine, and she expected
each day that Nellie went out with Kitty, to receive a glowing
account of a gallop with " Cousin Lacy ^ when she returned. But
Nellie got only donkey rides on the Downs.
Thus matters stood one bright day in the summer. The ladies
and Mr. Harwood went to Bath to explore that ancient city.
Kitty was left with Nellie, to spend the day at Vincent Lodge, or
on the Downs, or in a drive, or, in fact, according to Miss Nellie's
fancies, whatever they might be. The carriage was to meet the
last train from Bath, in the late afternoon.
It was a late dinner hour when they returned. Lady Lacy
inquired for Nellie. She had gone out with Kitty, soon after
noon, and had not returned. They had gone to the Downs. The
coachman saw them there at three o'clock. He had been to Clif-
ton, and was walking out to the lodge to prepare for his drive to
the station in Bristol. Nellie was on a donkey and Kitty walking
beside her. It was growing dark, and it was time Nellie was
asleep. The rector volunteered to go in search of them, and no
one opposed his departure. When he came back, nearly two
hours later, the whole household was thoroughly miserable.
He had been all over the Downs, but could find no traces of
them. Some policemen had seen them, and the donkey boys had
seen them, but all the accounts terminated about the same hour
that the coachman named three o'clock. He was recalled, and
closely questioned, but no new information was elicited.
The rector was terribly alarmed and anxious, but he sti'ove to
keep a cheerful countenance, for Ret's sake. Miss Tamworth
went to bed, prostrated and heart-broken. Lady Lacy was the
only calm individual in the house, and she put direct questions to
Parson Johnny as to the extent and direction of his seandu Then
NELLIE LOST. 22t
ie told her that he had had a dozen men scouring the country
within four or five miles of the locality where the child had last
been seen. It was at the foot of the observatory, on the cliff,
^here the donkeys had been dismissed, and Kitty and N"ellie had
malted leisurely down towards Clifton. One man had brought the
information that a woman and child, answering the description
S^^en, had been seen going down the zig-zag, a little later.
*' I assure you, sister," said the rector, "that this pathway is
6n^t:iTely safe. I went from the top to the bottom myself, and if
^^llie went down there, she went safely. Besides, if there had
l^^n any accident I should have heard of it. Half of Clifton
tu-ows of the child's loss by this time, and the search has been
^o^rough."
* ^ What do you think has become of her, Johnny ?'' said his sis-
*^^*^ steadily. " Do not be afraid to tell me your exact thought."
^ ^ Dear Eet, I am totally bewildered ! While I am confident
*^^*t no serious harm has happened, the mere fact that I don't
^^ow where to look for her, demoralizes me entirely. I cannot
^Sgest the next step. Oh ! if I could only get Swiss !"
*^Gro to Clifton, brother, and telegraph for him instantly," she
^^Xlied. He started up, and seized his hat. " Stay," she con-
^^iied, " you are more excited than I. Here are some blanks. I
^'ill write the despatch. Jane, tell the coachman to bring the
^^rriage to the door as speedily as possible," and she sat down at
^tx escritoire and with a firm hand wrote the telegram. " Pray
^ee that it goes at once, yourself. If Mr. Barston gets it to-night,
la.e can be here in the morning. There is the carriage ! away with
;you I"
Throwing her an admiring glance, Mr. Harwood hastened to the
carriage, which drove down the gravelled road at a rapid rate.
As the sound of the wheels died away, Ket fell on her knees and
prayed as she had never prayed before. And when she lifted her
wan face, wet with tears, there was a touch of comfort in her
countenance.
" If mortal man can find her, he can. If wisdom and courage
and undying energy can accomplish anything, he will bring her
back. And if he does I K he restores my baby to my arms again,
I wiU deny him nothing that he can ask. I will be his slave while
life endures, if he wants a slave. And if he asks me to be his wife
again, I will marry him I I will do it, if I am convinced that he
tofe them I"
228 TEE LAGY DIAMONDS.
OHAPTEE XLIV.
Another Voyage.
MR. BARSTOiN" was enjoying otium cum dignitate in the library
at Oakland. He had dined solus, and rather late. Too much
coffee after dinner made him wakeful. So he sat and smoked, and
read a treatise upon magnetic clairvoyance, in very choice French.
It was a new book, and he was so much interested, that he did not
notice the entrance of the servant, who coughed and spluttered
and did all he could to attract his attention.
" If you please, sir," he said at length " Mr. Macdower is in the
hall."
" What !" said Barston, starting up " bring him in at once I
Why did you keep him waiting there?''
"Thought you were gone to bed, sir. I'll show him in, sir," and
he vanished.
'^My dear Mr. Macdower why, what is the matter? A tele-
gram ! shall I read it f
"Yes. It will explain my unseasonable visit."
Barston unfolded the paper, with a vague presentiment of evil,
and read:
" From John Harwood, Clifton, Bristol, to Rev'd Andrew Mac-
dower, Lavington. Find Lacy Barston instantly and say that
Nellie is lost, and Lady Lacy begs, him to come immediately. Get
this message to him at any expense, without delay."
Barston read it twice, carefully.
" How did you come, Mr. MacdowerF
" In a cab."
"Gibson, put some things in my portmanteau. Here! Tou
may as well put these cigars in all of them. Stay I leave me half
a dozen. Will you have one, Mr. Macdower? No? Gibson, if
the portmanteau is not ready in five minutes," and he looked at
his watch, " I shall go without it. Will you take my place here,
Mr. Macdower ? I must take your cab."
" No. I must return. What is your purpose ?"
" There is a train that passes Lavington at one o'clock. I am
going to Bristol in that."
" There is a seat in my cab. Here is the portmant^u. We
have no time to spare. Come on."
ANOTHER VOYAGE. 229
" Cabby," said Barston, as he entered the vehicle, " if you set us
down at Lavington station within forty-five minutes, you shall
name your fare."
" Fifteen shillins, sir I" said cabby.
" Here is a sovereign. Earn it !"
There were five minutes to spare. Barston obtained his ticket,
lighted a dgar and waited. The south train glided into the station
precisely at one o'clock. The porter ran along the line of carriages,
followed by Barston, looking for a smoking compartment.
*' ISot one smoking carriage, sir I Not even second class."
" Then 1 shall ride third class to the next stop at least," replied
Swiss. " Here is a carriage, and a gentleman in it enjoying his
pipe. In we go," and the train plunged into the night again with
a shriek.
Our Mend smoked and meditated. It would be bright day-
light when they reached Bristol. What was the first thing to be
done? The odour of his neighbour's pipe was not agreeable.
Therefore, the first thing was to get him to put it out, and take a
cigar instead.
" My friend," he said, politely, " your tobacco is so strong that
the fumes affect my head! No doubt the quality is excellent.
But if you will oblige me by substituting this cigar "
" Ay, ay. Master Barston !" said the other. " I've had some of
your cigars before to-night on the coast of Spencerland and
under the equator I"
"Why, Mobbyl I left you first mate on board Spencer's ship
how long ago ? I am glad to see you again."
" I'm cappen of my own ship now, sir," said the sailor, shaking
hands with his old shipmate, "leastways of a tugboat, and two-
thirds owner, too. I'm done with long v'yages."
" Where is your vessel, Mobby ?" inquired Barston.
" On the Avon, sir, at Bristol."
" We have had some rough experiences together, Mobby," said
Mr. Barston. " Do you remember the high peak where we win-
tered F
" Ay, ay, sir 1" replied the sailor, " and I remember seeing you
on top of it, in the moonlight, poking at its bald head with your
Alpenstock."
" Yes 1 I cut some letters there. He will be a good climber
who erases that record I When did you leave Bristol f
" Yesterday. I towed a new steamer out to the Channel the
280 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
Pallas. She is going directly to N"ew York. She is a fine ship.
k)t aground in the Avon. Had to wait for the tide. That river
is worse than the currents we used to get in the high latitudes.
Do you remember the old berg, sir, that went out to sea that
night, ploughing its way through the floe ? We went out in his
wake, you know f ^
" I remember," answered Barston, thoughtfully ; " we had all
thought that old berg oar great enemy. We were between him
and the rock, and we feared the power of the current. You see
he was our Mend after all, opening egress from our ice prison.
We parted from him at sunrise, and stood out to sea P
" Yes, sir ; that was Providence, you said. Well, Providence
got the Pallas aground yesterday just to oblige a chap who had
left his wife and babby.''
" Ah !" said Barston.
"Yes, sirl It was a rum go, altogether. When the ship
grounded my cable was taut. I found she would not come, so I
jumped ashore to help the boys shove her off the bank. You see
I knew how them currents ran, and the ship's officers were chat-
tering like a lot of Frenchmen. While I was working about, this
chap slippjBd over the side and got his wife and babby. They
were on the bank.'^
" Surely he did not expect them to be there F said Barston.
" No, sir ; it was a reg'lar surprise. But he took them aboard
with him, and the Pallas was soon afloat again. It was all plain
sailing then, and I left my mate to take her to the channel, as I
had to go to Exeter. Are you going to Bristol or Clifton, sirP'
" Yes ; to both places.''
"Well, sir," said Mr. Mobby, fumbling in his pockets, "the
babby dropped a trinket on the bank. Leastways I picked it up
where she had been standing, the little hangell She was as
purty as a picter I I thought you might find some of her people,
maybe. Would you mind taking the toy?"
" You had better keep it, Mobby. It is not likely that I could
find any of the child's kin. My stay is very uncertain. You will
perhaps hear something about it when the ship returns. Is it
very valuable t"
" It is only a bit of coral, sir. Here it is 1 Little Kellie will
miss it ^
" Little what 1" said Barston, taking the bracelet, and devouring
it with his eyes by the dim light of the lamp in the car root
ANOTHER VOYAGE. 231
'Ton chap called her [NTellie' ^
" What was he like f said Barston, with bated breath.
" Oh, he was a swell chap. Had on fine toggery and kid gloves,
'ad a cut on his face that spoiled his beauty. But his wife
Seemed very fond of him. I saw her hanging on his arm after
"ttey got aboard. She was afeard the child would be scared at
tslie ship. But not a bit of it I She was bold as brass ! Her
iather took her up and said, ' Nellie, do you want to go on the big
sliip f and she clapped her little hands and said, ' Yes, yes !' The
little hangel I I've been thinking of her twenty times to-day.''
" So have I," replied Swiss. ** I think I know her."
" Do you? Well, that's jolly 1 You will keep the bracelet then,
sirF
^' Yes. Did you hear nothing about the woman and child beipg
xnissed F inquired Mr. Barston.
"IS", sir; I came directly to Bristol and took the train to
Exeter. It was a rum go I I have thought since that yon chap
xvas after running off to America to get rid of his wife and babby.
It was a quare start I His wife was very much astonished to see
liim. And it was a very unlikely place for them to be there under
"fche bank. They must have walked down there from the foot of
"fche zig-zag. Do you happen to know the chap's name, sir F
" I think he is called Butler," replied Barston.
"That's it I I had forgotten; but I heard the cappen say
^ Good evenin', Mrs. Butler,' when she went aboard. By the bye,
"fche Pallas sailed twelve hours before her time. Mebbe yon chap
intended to take his wife, after all."
Mr. Barston had arrived at a conclusion. It was all plain to
him. Butler had taken Kitty and Nellie to America. He knew
the bracelet, which be had given the child at Stirling ; and But-
ler's hatred of all the Harwoods, and his malignant character,
would account for his abduction of Nellie. Only one thing was to
"be done to follow.
" Captain, how can I get to America most rapidly t" he said,
after an hour's silence, in which his thoughts had been busy.
"Take the Princess this momin', sir," answered the sailor
promptly. " Tide will be three quarters flood at daylight. She
will sail at or near seven o'clock. Slie goes to Cork, and you will
be certain to overhaul to-day's Cunarder in Cork harboui*. By to-
morrow night you will be off Cape Clear."
"It is settled, then," said Barston, decidedly. "My dear
282 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
Mobby, I have given you many lectures upon Providence. Hear
one more. I have a first class ticket in my pocket, but I could
not get a smoking carriage, and the guard put me in here ; and
so I have had your agreeable company and obtained valuable
information from you, which would not have happened if I had
not obstinately resolved to have my cigar, though I had to relin-
quish cushioned seats and probably a comfortable nap. Now I
would have given twenty thousand pounds for your touching
little history of that encounter on the banks of the Avon if I could
not have obtained it cheaper. And you have awakened so keen
an interest in my heart in that little girl that I am goiug to Amer-
ica to-day, simply to find her; and 1 may add,'' he continued,
through his teeth, '^ I shall never return until I do find her. And
if you will excuse me I will try to get a small nap in this corner.
Take another cigar, captain "
In two minutes Swiss was asleep.
" Fve told Cappen Spencer a hundred times," said Mr. Mobby
to himself, "that Mr. Barston was a reg'lar loonatick! He is a
jolly good gentleman, and his cigars are prime A 1. But if he
ain't a loonatick I want to see one ! Twenty thousand pounds to
hear me talk ! And when he said his heart was in love with that
precious babby he was a gritten his teeth. He's a reg'lar loonatick
or I'm bio wed 1" In giving the sleeper this title he always accented
the penultimate.
Then the captain put his unlighted cigar carefully away in his
pouch and fell asleep in his corner.
CHAPTER XLV.
Adieu!
THERE was very little sleeping done at Vincent Lodge that
night. Messengers came at all hours, with the same dismal
report, " no tidings," and Lady Lacy spent the weary hours in
constructing hypotheses to account for the absence of Kitty and
the child. If Barston had thought of it, he might have enlarged
upon the kind Providence that led Mobby to the spot where the
bracelet was found, instead of allowing some one of the searchers
to find it. As no one had seen the embarkation of the child and
ADIEU! 288
her nurse excepting the people on the ship, now steaming down the
channel, or those on the tug, now ploughing her way back from the
mouth of the Avon, the conclusion would have been irresistible
that both Kitty and Nellie were drowned.
Lady Lacy consulted time tables, and had fixed in her mind the
hours at which Mr. Barston might possibly arrive. If he received
the despatch without delay, the earliest possibility was the ap-
proaching dawn. The more she thought of him the more she
expected him to restore Nellie. She recalled stories she had heard
of his prowess, and there were not a few of them ; and in spite of
the harrowing anxiety that tortured her, she found her hoi^es
reviving as the gray light began to appear in the eastern horizon.
It was only a i)ossibility that all had gone smoothly, and that
he would come with the sun, but she put a waterproof cloak on,
drew the hood over her head, and walked down the drive and out
upon the Clifton road. As she passed through the hall she saw
the rector sitting at the table, his head resting on his arm, asleep.
He had been watching there all night, and the fatigue had over-
come him at last.
Down the Clifton road all was blank. There were stripes of
orange and pink in the sky over the little hillock that bounded
her view. Then the orange faded and the pink grew into crimson.
Then
" Up leaped of a sudden the sun,"
and something appeared against his lurid disc. It was a vehicle
approaching at a rapid rate.
Lady Lacy drew aside as it came near. It was a Hansom cab,
empty !
While she was choking down her disappointment with a sob,
the driver pulled up his panting horse at the gate and touched
his hat to her.
" Vincent Lodge, mum IP he said.
" Yes, where are you from ? What have you to tell F
" Nothin', mum ! I on'y want to speak to Lady Lacy."
" I am she," said Eet, throwing back her hood, "speak quickly,
man, if you do not wish to drive me mad !"
" Beg parding, my lady," returned cabby, " but the gent said I
was to go to the 'ouse and give the letter to Lady Lacy her-
self
" Mr. Barston F said she, with a flush of joy spreading over her
face.
234 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
" Yes, my lady. It is all right if you know who sent it. Here
is the letter. He told me to wait.^
She made an assenting motion with her hand, took the letter,
and re-entering the grounds, sat down on a garden seat near the
gate and tore the envelope open. Something dropped out and
fell at her feet. With a low cry she snatched it up and
covered it with kisses. It was [NTellie's bracelet. And while the
fast flowing tears which fell like heavenly dew from her aching
eyes dimmed her sight, she read the letter. You have peeped
over her shoulder before, reader. Do it again.
"Beistol ON Board the 'Princess,'
" 6 o'clock, a. M.
" My Lady I have traces of [NTelliej nay, I know where she is,
and that she is sate! I enclose her bracelet by way of proof.
She is safe and well. Be comforted^ oh mourner ! Do not repine
at delay that cannot be avoided. Let the one thought possess
you. She is safe and well, and I am about to cross the ocean to
regain her and restore her to you.
" Butler married Kitty at Stirling. Did you know it t He met
her and Nellie at the foot of the cliff yesterday I suppose at the
upper end of Chfton. He was on board the ship Pallas^ bound
for New York, and while the vessel was accidentally detained,
being aground, he took Kitty and the child aboard, and they are
two days ahead of me. I shall catch to-day's Cunarder, from Liver-
pool, at Queenstown, where I shall be to-night, and if the same
overruling Providence that revealed this much to me by a half
miracle will still befriend us, I shall arrive in New York almost
if not quite as soon as the Pallas. Is it necessary to say that I
will never return without Nellie that I will hunt every possible
locality ^that I will leave no means untried, no agency unem-
ployed, that has the feeblest prospect of success ?"
" Trust the Providence ! Two years ago I was driven to America
by dire calamity and distress, and while there I learned some of
Butler's haunts. I have the most sanguine expectation of finding
him and Nellie quickly. Do not doubt it.
"I am writing very hurriedly, as the ship sails immediately.
May I say one word ? You will be praying sometimes that Nellie
may be restored to you ; will you please add a little petition in be-
half of her searcher ?
"Lacy Barston."
ADIEU. 235
" P. S. ^I told cabby that you would perhaps drive to the
Downs, and let me see you as the ship passes ^say at the foot of
the observatory. It has been two years since I saw you, and it
would comfort me no little if my last look might rest upon you.
I ventured to order him to wait until you read this missive.''
" Oh, my darling !" said Lady Lacy, kissing the bracelet once
more. " I shall see you again I My love, my love V^ and in her
confusion she got the bracelet and the letter mixed, and kissed
them both. Then she hurried out to the road and entered the cab.
" Drive to the Downs," she said ; " no time to lose !''
Seated on the bench below the observatory she could see a
long stretch of the river, up and down. Far down towards the
channel there was a tug coming up rapidly with the flood tide.
The high bank hid the upper part of the river, trending north-
ward^ and she kept her gaze riveted upoi;i the point where the
Cork steamer must appear. Presently the prow was projected
beyond the bank, then the foremast, then the slowly revolving
paddles, and finally the whole vessel appeared less than a mile
from her elevated perch. She started up, throwing off her hood,
and the rays of the morning sun were glinted back from her
beautiful hair, as she stood like a lovely statue upon the bald
rock at the base of the observatory. Upon the paddle-box of the
steamer now gliding by stood Lacy Barston, his arms stretched
upwards towards her. She kissed her hand to him again and
again, trying to think of some gesture that would show him her
gratitude and admiration, and wondering at her own stupidity,
while her lover stood watching her, his arms uplifted, until the
ship passed out of sight. And in their after lives both of them
often recalled that mute adieu and thanked heaven for the com-
fort they found in it.
When the cab reached the entrance to Vincent Lodge, Lady
Lacy produced her purse.
" Fm paid, mum ! beg parding, your ladyship ! Muster Barston
paid me for the whole job.''
" How much f said she.
" A sov'run, mum, your ladyship."
" Here is another. And if you ever need assistance come to me
and get it," and she entered the grounds, robbing cabby of the
most perfect vision of loveliness that his eyes had ever seen.
The rector was at the door, looking with amazement at her
1
236 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
clieerfiil counteuaiice as she approaclied. She put Barston^s note
ia his hand, and waited while he read it.
"Hurrah!'' shouted Parsou Johuuj^, throwing up his hat.
" Swiss after her I Ret, my darling sister, kiss me ! I tell you.
Ret, there is no man on this planet to compare with Swiss ! He
is as certain to find Kellie as if she were hidden in this hall. He
is relentless as death, and will hunt America over on his hands
and knees before he relinquishes his search. Trust Providence,
and trust Swiss! Come, are you going to the Downs, as he
requests f
" ]:^o," she answered, composedly, taking her letter back.
"No! Why, Ret r
" It is too late, Johnny. The ship sailed at daylight ; it is now
seven o'clock. 1 must run to Clare with the news.'^
" Well," said the discontented parson, as she flitted out of the
hall, " women are ^kittle cattle,' as the Scotch say. Now, a man
with one spark of gratitude in his body, would get a horse and
ride down to the mouth of the river to say good-bye to a fellow
under these circumstances. Poor old Swiss !"
While the trio were at breakfast, a messenger arrived with a
note for Lady Lacy. It was as follows :
^'From the ex-gamekeeper to her high and mighty ladyship of the
Earwood blood, Oreeting :
" I have taken my wife from under the protection of your lady-
ship. She had your child in charge, and could not leave her on
the river bank. It was no part of my purpose to take the child,
and she shall suffer no harm. You may know tliis, as she will be
under Kitty's care until we can get her back to you. As she is
only half Harwood, I can forgive her that misfortune for the sake
of the better blood in her veins. I write this, not to relieve your
anxiety, but because I promised my wife, and am not in the habit
of lying."
" How did this come?" said the rector, starting up.
" A lad brought it, sir," answered the servant. " He says it was
given him by the captain of a tug-boat, at the foot of the zigzag."
The rector found the boy at the door, who told the same story.
A man on board the tug had thrown the note, tied to a lump of
coal, ashore, and told the boy he would get half-a-crown for takin
it to Vincent Lodge.
" An' I vants the arf-crown, please sir !" said the urchin.
And the Parson paid it.
g
ON THE TBAGK. 23t
OHAPTEE XLVI.
On the Track.
BAESTON'S first question when he landed on the Cunard
wharf at Jersey City related to the Pallas. A custom house
official informed him that she had amved on the previous day.
The wharf was crowded with passengers, porters, sailors and
custom house officers, and was a first class BabeL After some
slight delay, Mr. Barston, committing his scanty luggage to a
hotel porter, escaped from the wharf, and crossing the ferry, was
swallowed up in the crowds of the American metropolis. He had
learned the locality of the PallaSy and with the prompt decision
peculiar to the man, he went directly to the pier where she was
discharging cargo.
When he boarded the steamer at Queenstown he was not Lacy
Barston, but John Smith. It had occurred to him that the New
York newspapers published a Ust of passengers, and Mr. Butler
might consult them and find his name, and make his search more
difficult. This habit of considering all minor details was another
peculiarity. He incurred the risk of encountering some acquaint-
ance on the steamer, but it happened that all were strangers to
him.
He found the purser on board the Pallas^ and obtained his
stock of information in a few minutes.
Mr. Butler had started with them from Bristol. The ship had
grounded in the Avon, and Mrs. Butler and the child happeued to
be on the bank. " It was a touch and go business," the purser
said. They had had a good passage, and the little girl was the
idol of the ship. Her parents had kept her jealously with them,
and were disinclined to allow any conversation with the bright
little angel. He could not say positively where they had goue, but
he thought to Chicago. Mr. Butler had asked a great number of
questions about the West, and the purser knew that they had
started from the Pallas for one of the railways. He thought it
was the Brie.
This was all. Hunting for a needle in a haystack was a prom-
ising occupation in comparison with an expedition to Chicago with
the very insufficient clue the purser furnished. Nevertheless, it
838 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
was the only thing to be done. Mr. Butler was twenty-four hours
ahead. This might be made up by express travelling night and
day. There was no train until six o'clock, so Mr. Smith went to
his hotel and dined. He had provided himself with all needful
funds in Cork, and now exchanged a hundred pounds for Ameri-
can currency, and he saw the sun set from the car window twenty
miles west of New York.
In the station at Chicago on the second day Mr. Smith began
his explorations with patient philosophy. He was looking for a
lady and gentleman and little girl. They had arrived six, twelve
or eighteen hours previously. The various officials he questioned
had each seen the very party he described, and upon cross-exam-
ination each gave a description totally at variance with all the
rest and entirely different from the reality that Mr. Smith sought.
One gave the gentleman red hair and beard, another made him
quite gray, and a third deprived him of all hirsute adornments by
describing his head as " smooth as a pumpkin." It was very re-
markable that there should have been so many arrivals of trios in
less than one day and that they should have been so dissimilar,
each from the rest. He went to a hotel and wrote a cheerful
letter to Parson Johnny, reporting his arrival and promising a
weekly letter thereafter unless he should get out of the reach of
mails. He recounted such portions of the purser's story as referred
to the good health and happiness of Kellie with great care for the
comfort of her mother.
He spent a week at Chicago. Particular inquiry at every hotel
in the city revealed the fact that Butler had not been in any of
them. He must go elsewhere. There was a hew town in Kansas
where people where flocking, " especially Britishers," and he would
go there next. Before his departure he wrote his second letter,
making light of the difficulties and warning the rector that " there
were so many places in America, and the distances were so great
between them, that he might not be able to givQ j^ositive informa-
tion until the coming spring." He thought, however, that he was
on the track, and he would certainly continue the search until he
found Kellie. She was traced positively to New York, and the
rest was only a matter of time. " If I only knew," he concluded,
" that your sister was patient and hopeful, and that she trusted
my sagacity and perseverance, I could enjoy every part of my
search, even its frequent disappointments, for I know I shall find
my darling at last, and I am willing to wait the developments of
Providence ^Ebenezer I"
ON THE TRACK. 289
Arrived at New Washington, the Kansas metropolis that was
to be, Mr. Smith renewed his inquiries, and here he fell into " a
famous streak of luck,'' according to his landlord's opinion.
There was a party, father, mother and daughter, and the latter
was named ISTelly, that had arrived and departed two days ago.
They were in haste to reach their destination, which was a farm
out on the " peraira,'' and the landlord had only had a.glimpse of
tliem, as they stopped less than an hour. The child was a '^ mighty
spry little gal f but his interlocutor could give Mr. Smith nothing
approaching an accurate description. They had come from New
York, as he knew by the labels on their baggage, and he had over-
heard the mother call the child "Nelly." They certainly went to
Carthagenia, a station twenty miles distant, and their farm was in
the vicinity of that renowned city. Mr. Smith went immediately
to Carthagenia.
It was dark night when he arrived, and he was escorted to the
hotel by a man carrying a lantern. This edilice was of one story,
and the proprietor had not had time to adorn it as much as he
could desire. It was builded of logs and contained four apartments ;
one was a kitchen, which was also the bar room and the dining hall ]
another was the sleeping apartment of the host and his partner
in distress ; a third was occupied by the progeny of this pair,
numbering " seven head,'' as the landlady apprised him with com-
mendable pride, and the fourth was the guest chamber, and already
occupied by a returned soldier who had " got hurted in the war."
Mr. Smith was assured that this warrior would share his couch
with him, but as the last comer thought from his appearance that
he would probably share some other things, he rapidly made up his
mind to decline the favour. He cautiously inquired of one of the
seven pledges whether there were " many hotels " in Carthagenia,
and the pledge, with untutored hilarity at his heathenish ig-
norance, informed him that the hotel he now sat in and the rail-
way station were the only buildings of which Carthagenia at
present boasted, excepting the stable attached to the hotel.
Mr. Smith had encountered some rude experiences in his journey
through life, but this seemed to him a little more desolate than
any former adventure. He was a smoker, and after a supper of
Med bacon, Indian corn-bread, which his uneducated palate could
not appreciate, and muddy coffee, he asked permission to walk out
and smoke.
" You can smoke as well hyar, stranger," said the mistress of
the mansion. " None of us objects to smoke in the least."
240 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
Thus encouraged Mr. Smith produced his cigar case, and
politely offering one to the wounded veteran and one to his host,
they were soon enveloped in a fragrant atmosphere, the more
noticeable from the contrast it afforded to the prevalent odour of
the hotel.
"Landlord,'' said the philosopher, after a whiff or two, " I have
decided to sit up to-night, with your x)6rmission. I slept enor-
mously last night."
" Don't see why you can't bunk with the soger," replied the
landlord.
" My dear sir, I am engaged in an investigation that requires a
great deal of patient thought "
" You can think in bed, I guess."
" But I have not time for entomological studies, my dear sir,"
replied Mr. Smith, coolly. The other smokers stared at him
through the smoke. The big word vanquished them.
" Air you a preacher?" said the host, after a pause.
" No."
" Air you a doctor?"
" No. I have dabbled a little in medical lore, but I do not
belong to the profession."
'* Air you looking for land hereaway ?" persisted the host.
"No. I am looking for a lady and her husband, and a little
girl named Nellie, who have recently arrived in this neighbour-
hood from New York ^probably two days ago."
" Yaas !" responded the landlord, " that's Sponder I He bought
yon farm on the peraira. It's a good farm, too. Sponder bought
it a month ago. He went to Noo Yawk after his wife and darter
jist two weeks ago. The little one is a spry gal. She is about the
size of my Sally thar," and he pointed to a ten year old pledge.
" Her name is Nellie. Her har is as black as the dickens, and so
is her eyes I He got here night before last, and I hauled him and
his plunder out to his farm."
Mr. Smith smoked quietly for several minutes and meditated.
The description so rapidly given of the black-eyed Nellie did not
at all correspond with his anticipations.
" Did you know Mr. Sponder before he came?" he asked.
" Oh yaas ! We was pardners over in Hlenoy in land speckilla-
tions. He has been here off and on a dozen times this summer."
He rose as he spoke and lighted a lantern. " I hear the down
train coming, and must go to the deep-o."
ON THE RIGHT TRACK 241
"I will go with you, landlord,'' said Mr. Smith. "I have
decided to return to Kew Washington. Mr. Sponder is evidently
not the gentleman I seek. Allow me to settle for my entertain-
ment. I have the honour to bid you good night, madame."
It was raining as they left the hotel. The wounded warrior sat
stolidly sucking at the stump of his cigar. Over the roar of the
approaching train the hotel inhabitants heard the cheery tones of
Mr. Smith's voice singing lustily,
" A wet sheet and a flowing sea,
And a wind that follows fast I"
" He sings prime I" said the warrior decidedly, ^' and his cigars
are prime. But my belief is that he's a Johnny Eeb, and he's
after no good up hyar.'^
" Eeb be hanged 1" said the landlady, " what put that notion in
your head f
' Well, ma'am," replied the soldier, " he talks jist as smooth as
grease ; he slings his cigars about as if they was made of Connec-
ticut tobaccer at a cent a piece 5 he gave your little girl a dollar
greenback I seed him and he is so bloody polite I I tell you,
ma'am, he's a Johnny Eeb. I hev bin among them cattle^ and I
know ^em. He's a Johnny Eeb 1"
OHAPTEE XLVII.
On the Eight Tbacs:.
THE patience with which Mr. Smith encountered his various
disappointments was very remarkable. In his weekly letters
to his friend the rector, he recounted the salient points in his
adventures, and always had a new theory to suggest upon which
he would act in the coming week. He spent the entire winter in
explorations of western towns, always in vain, as the reader
knows.
He was at Omaha in the last week of March, and pursuing his
steadfast plan of asking questions whenever he could find an
interlocutor civil enough to answer him, he suddenly fell in with
the only man in America who could have given him the informa-
tion he sought. He was a ^^ switch tender" in the railway station,
16
\
342 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
and Mr. Smith found him because he made it an invariable rule
to interrogate every railway official he could induce to listen to
and answer him. This one was a countryman, and had come over
in the Fallas ! As soon as Mr. Smith learned this fact he ascer-
tained when the man would be at liberty, and invited him to
meet him at his hotel and dine with him. The switchman wa
punctual, with a clean face and decent apparel his Sunday suit,
in fact.
They had dinner in a private room, and when his guest was as
full of dinner as his capacity would allow, Mr. Smith pumped him
dry.
He knew Butler on the ship, went with him and his wife and
child to the railway station in Kew York, saw him buy his tickets
and saw his luggage checked to a town in New Jersey within
forty miles of New York. Mr. Smith pressed a twenty dollar note
upon his countryman, paid his hotel bill, and started the same
night for New York.
It was all plain sailing now. He wrote the shortest letter
of the series to Mr. Harwood, full of joyful anticipations, and
promising full details a week later; and when he arrived at the
Jersey village he suddenly remembered that it was the post-office
address given him by Hawder the year before. The first step was
to find Hawder.
He had dressed himself in homespun garments, which he had
procured in the West, and with a knapsack on his back he began
his search in the village. The post-master informed him that
Hawder lived a few miles off, and directed him to " Baird's Tav-
ern,'' whence he could be directed to Hawder's residence by a
straight road. It was afternoon, horribly inclement, a sharp storm
of rain mingled with sleet was progressing, but Mr. Smith reso-
lutely set out, in defiance of wind and weather.
The gentle reader is thus brought to the opening chapter of this
truthful history. Before midnight Barston knew where the child
was, and had decided accurately how to gain possession of her.
He went to Baird's tavern, where Nellie, totally unconscious of
his presence, once or twice flitted momently in sight. The strong
man could scarcely restrain himself when he saw her, but he did.
Near midnight, having ascertained where she slept, he got a lad-
der from the stable and entered her room from the window. She
was asleep in her crib, and kneeling by it Barston took her in his
arms and held her close to his beating heart. He pressed his lips
to hers as she opened her eyes, and vylxte\)^ted:
ON THE RIGHT TRACK. 248
"S^ellie, Nellie 1 my darling, don't speafc. K yon know me,
kiss me P
"Consin Lacy 1'' said the child, clinging to his neck, " Oh, take
me to mamma !"
"I will, my precious baby; but don't speak above a whisper."
He had a railway rug on his arm, and wrapping the child in it
after he had enveloped her in his own coat, he gathered up her
clothing, and taking her in his arms again descended the ladder
and walked swiftly to Hawder's house. When he arrived there
he remembered that he had been cautioned against possible con-
tagion, and alarmed for the child he continued his walk, crossing
the bridge at the mouth of a creek, and then taking the high road
he walked a dozen miles before he reached a railway station.
Here he found a little fury of a stove, red hot, and by its light he
dressed the happy child in her proper garments. A freight train,
with one passenger car attached, passed the station as the dawn
api)eared, and a little after sunrise he was in New York.
He had been a week within reach of Nellie before he could
accomplish his purpose. Hawder was sick of enteric fever, and he
had nursed him a night or two. Afterwards he was baffled once
and again by Butler's watchfulness, and on the night of his bold
attempt he had seen this worthy drinking himself into a state of
utter helplessjaess.
It was Sunday when he reached New York. He took Nellie to
his hotel and locked himself in his chamber with her ; and then
his manhood deserted him, or he attained a UiBW advance in man-
hood, whichever the reader pleases. He threw himself on the bed
and burst into tears.
Nothing could be more touching or more charming than the ten-
der ministrations of the little fairy he had rescued. She fluttered
round him, cried with him, kissed him, patted his cheek with her
hand, wiped his eyes with her pinafore, promised him unlimited
good things when they got home, and finally got him to sit up
and take her on his knee.
" My darling," he said, " we cannot get a ship for thro days,
then we will go home. JBut you cannot be out of my sight one
solitary minute until we see jour mamma. I must take you
wherever 1 go. And now I want you to go to sleep while I wash
my face and order breakfast. Don't tell anybody that you saw
me crying."
" No, only mamma."
244 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
Lacy blushed like a girl. " My dear,'' he said, " I fear you have
made the worst possible exception."
" I must tell mamma. She likes me to tell her everything about
you."
" Does she !" said Swiss. " Well, you are a wise little woman,
and I will think about it. Will you go to sleep now f "
"Yes. Kiss me good night. Won't we have a good ride on
Eoland when we get home !" and she coiled herself up in the bed
and was asleep in five minutes.
Mr. Barston took advantage of the opportunity to resume his
ordinary habiliments. He could not buy any garments for !N"ellie,
as it was Sundaiy, so he spent the day in his room with her. She
was amiable, and allowed him to smoke ad libitum.
The next day he procured all the attire that Kellie needed, and
a good lot that she did not need, then went with her to the office
of the steamship comjiany and secured passage for Wednesday.
On the next day he took Nellie to see the ship and arrange their
luggage. He had bought a lot of toys, which filled one trunk, and
at last got their stateroom arranged to his satisfaction. Before he
left the ship he learned that "Mr. and Mrs. Barston" were going
in the same vessel, and that they had the opposite stateroom.
Tbinking the name rather peculiar, he drove back to the agent's
office, as he could get no information on the shipj and there he
learned that Mr. Barston was a very nice gentleman, with a red
scar on his forehead. Then Mr. Smith asked and obtained per-
mission to transfer his ticket to Mr. Jones and son, as Mr. Smith
and daughter were obliged to change their plans.
The rest of the day was employed in procuring a new set of
habiliments for Nellie, and explaining to her why the disguise was
necessary. He did not dare trust Butler, though he felt certain
that he would not interfere with the return of the child. He would
not wait for another ship, and the only course left was to disguise
himself and Nellie both. They were transformed into Mr. Jones
and son before dark, and as the ship was to sail early in the day,
they went aboard on Tuesday night.
Captain Strong has already related the main incidents of the
passage. Mr. Jones and son landed at Queenstown, and proceed-
ing to Dublin, crossed by the fast mail to Holyhead, and reached
London the next morning. Pausing only long enough to ascertain
that Lady Lacy was at the Eed Hall, he went directly to Laving-
ton. As he and Nellie had a compartment to themselves, he
ON THE RIGHT TRACK. 245
changed her dress once more, though he had no opportunity to
resume his own identity. He was too eager to wait, and on the
arrival of the train he took a cab and drove to the Red Hall with
all possible speed.
His last letter had announced l^ellie found, and Lady Lacy,
expecting fuller intelligence by the mail just due, was driving
into Lavington, hoping to find letters at the rectory. Swiss saw
the carriage half a mile distant. A sudden fit of shyness seized
him, and stopping his vehicle, he kissed Kellie, wild with delight
and excitement, set her out on the roadside, and bade his jehu re-
trace his steps. He looked out of the back window and saw the
carriage stop, Nellie fly to the side, and clambering up the steps,
get torn into bits between Miss Tamworth and her mother, as they
fought over the child like a pair of raging tigresses. Then the
carriage turned backward also, and as it disappeared Mr. Barston
lighted a cigar and soliloquized:
" It would have been very absurd of me to have shown myself
to those lovely women in this sort of a costume. I don't think
they would ever get over the shock 1 How they did claw my poor
little baby 1 How their precious tongues will wag the rest of this
day ! What yarns Nellie will spin ! Hum ! My lady likes her to
talk about me, does she? Well, let the child talk! Ah, Eetl"
and he shook his fist at the retreating carriage " the next time
we meet, you will be mine or, by the three kings, 1 will steal
Nellie again I'' and he laughed gleefully.
The cabby plodded on at a jog trot. He had earned his fare by
the fast driving towards the Red Hall. The ^'old gent" did not
care to get back so rapidly, so he would take his time. He had
no special directions, but concluded the old gent wished to go to
the inn, where he had sent his luggage. He peeped once or twice
through the trap in the roof, but could only see the outlines of the
old gent, as a fine cloud of smoke enveloped him. He seemed to
be more than half asleep. But the ino was reached at last, and
when the old gent blundered out, and into the sanded common
room, he very nearly upset another "gent," who was not so old,
and was quite surprised to recognize his compagnon de voyage,
the 80% disant Mr. Barston.
246 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
OHAPTEB XLVIII.
The Gain Mask.
IF the gentle reader will go back to the twentieth chapter o
this history, the very abrupt manner in which Sir John Lacy
was dismissed from the narrative will be apparent. The time has
now arrived when it will- be in order to take up the thread there
dropped, and the author recurs to that time with the greater re-
luctance, because it adds another to the already multiplied indica-
tions that the story is drawing to a close.
After Barston had parted from him, the baronet rode slowly
along, thinking of the exciting colloquy just over, and the change
wrought in his purposes*and sentiments.
" I must tell Eet all about it," he thought. " Poor girl I she
has been annoyed, no doubt, though she has said nothing. I
must also manage to get her diamonds back f and he took the box
from his pocket and looked at the gems, flashing in the moonlight.
The satellite was just appearing, full, above the horizon. "I
wonder how much the trinkets are worth? Here is the Dark
Wood. It will save a mile to cross here. The hedge is low. So !
Saladin I Over we go !"
As the horse leaped and alighted at the edge of the wood, a
man started up from the ground and confronted the rider.
" Hillo 1" said Sir John, thrusting the jewel case into his bosom,
" who are you P
"I was about to put the same question to you,'' said the
stranger, coming a little more into the moonlight, " but I believe
your name is Lacy t"
" Having discovered this fact,'' replied Sir John, " you will per-
haps acknowledge that I am on my own land and have the right
to ask your business."
" I am not so sure of that," said the other, laughing disagree-
ably, " your title to the land may be questioned, perhaps. You
are married, I hear f
" What the devil do you mean by this insolence F said Sir
John. " Get out of my path and get off my property. You are a
tresspasser."
" Softly," replied the stranger, " you are making too many as-
sertions in one. You cannot pass until I have some speech with
THE GAIN MABK. 24T
yon. I thought of calling upon you at the Bed Hall, but this is
better.'^
" If you are drunk I can overlook this offence. If you are sober,
I caution you to take yourself out of reach. I am a magistrate,
and am bound to have you up for trespassing on a gentleman's
grounds, unless," he added, shaking his rein and touching his
horse with the spur, " unless you choose to apologize and de-
camp.''
'* How easily I can change all that lordly air," said the tres-
passer, laughing again, " with a word or two. You cannot pass,
I tell you, until I have had my say I"
Sir John snatched his sabre from the scabbard and shook it
wrathfully over his head.
" If you do not clear the path on the instant," he said, sternly,
" I swear I will cut you down, you scoundrel I"
*' Pooh 1" said Butler, composedlj', '^ the greater part of my life
has been spent among real swords, where they were thicker than
the twigs above your head I Put up your holiday weapon, and
keep it to frighten boys withal. You dare not use it upon me 1"
Something in the man's manner impressed Sir John, and he
lowered his weapon.
" Say what you have to say, then," he answered, " and oblige
me by being brief as possible. I yield to your madness, for you
must be mad, as you are clearly not drunk. What is your busi-
ness f
" I have not decided fully," said Butler. " Perhaps I may let
you off easily, as you have lowered your tone. I want to know
more about your wife before I can tell you what I require."
" Hark you, Mr. Mountebank," said Sir John, struggling with
his rising temper, " speak respectfully of Lady Lacy, or ^
" Pshaw !" said Butler, rudely, again laying his hand on the
bridle, " you had better be sure that she is Lady Lacy before you
lose your temper. What are you doing ?"
" Out of my path on your peril !" said the baronet, rising in his
stirrups as his sabre circled round his head. " By Heaven, your
life hangs upon a thread I I will cleave your head in three sec-
onds if you are within reach of my sword. One, two, three 1" and
the bright blade, flashing in the moonlight, descended like a
bolt from the heavens.
' Madman 1" said Butler, throwing up a thick stick he had
plucked from the hedge, "would you kill your brother!"
$48 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
The keen bladq cut through the tough cudgel, and though the
force of the blow was broken by the parry, it bit deeply into the
upturned forehead of the trespasser, blinding him with the quick
flowing blood. Pressing heavily upon the bridle, the horse reared,
struck out with his forelegs, and fell over upon his rider. Elbert
Lacy passed his hand over his eyes as the horse, struggling to his
feet, galloped away towards the Hall, snorting with fright.
He drew the motionless body of his brother into the moonlight
and looked anxiously upon his pale face. The frown was rapidly
fading from his countenance, giving place to an appalling calm
which Elbert knew from many experiences betokened death!
He put his hand ^flrst cleansing it from blood stains, on the
dewy grass upon his brother's heart. It had ceased to beat!
As he withdrew it from his vest a small jewel case fell upon the
ground. He raised it, read the inscription " Lacy,'' and placed
it in his own pocket. The sabre had fallen from the dead man's
hand. Elbert raised it, wiped the stain upon his coat sleeve, and
returned it to its sheath.
All this time the sound of the hoofstrokes of the flying horse
came floating back upon the breeze.
" Dead !" said Elbert, " and by my hand ! And he has left the
Cain brand on my forehead to abide while my life lasts ! Of all
the horrors that have darkened that life this is the culmination.
Guiltless in the sight of heaven, I swear !" and he lifted his hand
solemnly to the solemn sky, " yet no stream can be found to wash
away this stain ! Oh, Jack, how joyfully would I change places
with you, poor boy I"
He sat down upon the ground, took out the jewel case and
opened it. The diamonds seemed to gather up all the rays of the
moonlight and flash them back into the eyes of Elbert Lacy,
mocking him with their weird and devilish glitter.
" Ay, ay !" he said, " I have hoard of you many a time, and I
would recognize you anywhere on the earth 1 'Eo Lacy can die
by Lacy's hand unless you are near !"
He thrust the box back into his pocket and rose from the
ground, picking up the two pieces of the cudgel and looking
curiously at the cut in the tough wood. It was a clean trans-
verse cut, looking as if it had been made by the blow of an axe.
" The boy was a good sworder. If I had not chanced to pull
this from the hedge it would have been Elbert Lacy lying there
so still and calm. As it was, he has cut me to the bone I He
THE GAIN MARK. 249
died aflame with rage, and I have killed him, without design
and without auger. It will take a portion of my life-long remorse
away tx) remember that I It was the cursed curb that caused it
all I The brute reared up and tore the rein from my hand at the
very instant that Jack cut at me I''
He knelt down by the body and looked earnestly at the xrg-
turned face, calm and beautiful. There was a strange comi)osure
in all that this outcast did, and his passions and feelings, tumul-
tuous as they were, undoubtedly, were still held in perfect check.
Under happier tutelage his marred life would perhaps have been
brilliant and beneficent, for he had the attributes of noble man-
hood, albeit all warped from their normal tendencies.
^' How handsome he is !'^ he said, sadly, and he leaned over him
and kissed his cold forehead. "I would have died for you,
brother,'' he continued as he rose, " but it was not to be. The
curse that clings to the Lacy line has found you. Jack. My turn
next, and I care not how soon it comes 1''
With the fragments of his cudgel in his hand he crossed the
hedge, swinging clear of it by an overhangiug bough, and enter-
ing the wood on the opposite side of the road which divided the
Lacy lands from the estate of Lord Morton, he suddenly found
the death he courted waiting for him.
In an open glade, so near that he could hear the trampling of
their feet, three men were pressing hardly upon a fourth. He
could see the flash of a knife in the hands of one of the assailants,
and without a moment's paus.e he dashed into the fray.
" Three upon one I" he shouted, as he felled the nearest with
his short cudgel. " Shame upon you, cowards !^'
The others turned upon him with curses, leaving their intended
victim, who sunk bleeding to the ground. He had been cut in
the arm by the knife, which the younger still held in his hand, as
he rushed upon Elbert Lacy. The latter, avoidmg his assault by
springing aside, snatching a gun from the ground, discharged it at
the baffled robber before he could stop in his career. He fell
with a groan, and Lacy grappled immediately with the other,
receiving an ugly blow upon the head, but holding his grip
upon the throat of his brawny assailant with iron muscles. The
wounded gamekeeper crawled to his assistance, and between
them the poacher was borne to the earth and his arms pinioned.
The others were already hora de combat.
The struggle occurred near the road-side, and the sound of the
260 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
gun shot attracted a passing laborer, who came rapidly to the
spot, directed by the shouts of the gamekeeper. And as Elbert
Lacy saw the newcomer approach, his grasp upon the prostrate
poacher relaxed, and he rolled over in a swoon by his side.
CHAPTER XLIX.
The Kinsmen.
^^XTTELL metP said Mr. Butler, as Swiss recoiled, "I was
V V thinking of you this moment P
Mr. Barston F said Swiss.
"Well, no!'' replied the other, 'Hhat was only a temporary
title, which I assumed for a pui'pose. Come into my room and I
will tell you about it."
He threw open a door as he spoke, and old Mr. Jones obeyed
his courteous gesture and entered the room. The other followed
him, and closing tlie door turned the key I
" It would be inconvenient to be interrupted," he said, ai)olo-
getically, "take a seat, pray. But if I may venture to say so, you
look so confoundedly ugly in that old tow wig that you would do
well to take it off ! So 1" he continued, as Mr. Jones disappeared,
wig and gray beard and stooping shoulders and all, while hand-
some Lacy Barston emerged from the ruios; "that is better!
and now, Lacy Barston, I may say to you that I knew you on the
ship as soon as you spoke !"
" Indeed I" said Barston, coolly.
" Yes ! I recognized the Lacy burr. There is no mistaking it."
" True," said Swiss. " I think I knew you, Elbert, or at least
that peculiarity of speech helped enlighten me. My dear cousin,
I offer you my hand with true affection."
" Stop a moment !" said the other, a little startled, ^^ you don't
know yet what stains are on my hand ^
" Neither do I care, Elbert. If your hand would incarnadine
multitudinous seas,' it is still the hand of my only living kinsman.
Give me your hand, Elbert 1"
The other stood gazing irresolutely at him a moment, anl then
sat down near him, his hands thrust into his pockets.
"La(5y," he said, speaking slowly and without any sign of
emotion, " I told you a large part of my miserable story on the
THE KINSMEN. 851
ship yonder. I was half mad with drink, but I deliberately told
you every word because I would not sail under false colours with
you. But there are some things that I did not tell you, and you
must heal* them now. Where is Nellie f
" In her mother's arms. Where is your wife ? I desire to be the
first to address her as Lady Lacy I'^
" Never I'^ said his cousin. " She can never have the title. It
is a hateful name to me, since one of those cursed Harwoods has
borne it P
^'For shame, Elbert!^ said Barston, reproachftiUy, "you come
of a gentle strain ; do not contradict your better instincts, and do
-not insult me by rude speeches against the lady 1 love ! Eet
Harwood will be my wife if I ever have a wife.'
" Is it so? Well, I will say no more, and will try to forget her
haughty insolence. There I there I I have done. Kitty is abed,
slowly recovering from the effects of the voyage. You shall see
her anon, and if you wish to call her by the title you name, after
you hear my story to the end, I shall not hinder you. Will you
listen r
" Assuredly."
" You know all about me up to our parting at Liverpool, when
we came from Australia, except that I had been fortunate at the
gold diggings and brought some money home."
" I knew that, too, Elbert," said Barston ; " the captain told me
of the bag of gold dust you gave into his charge."
" Ay, ay P replied Elbert, " I gave him that before several wit-
nesses. My object was to make all who knew it suppose that was
all my wealth. It was not the tithe of it ! I had ten times the
sum belted round my waist, in Bank of England notes ) and I
have it still, or Kitty has, which is better."
" It makes little difference, Elbert," answered Swiss. " I have
more than I can spend, and my purse is yours whenever you
need it."
" You are kind, but there is no need. Well, after you saw me
and Kitty over yonder at her house, I wandered away into the
country around Lavington, trying to humanize myself by recall-
ing events of my boyhood. Alas I every spot I saw and recog-
nized amid the changes wrought b^' the lapse of a dozen years
and more, only brought back the memory of the wrongs that
drove me from these scenes ! 1 spent the day brooding over these
wrongs, and at nightfall I was alone in the Dark Wood^ when
262 THE LAOY DIAMONDS,
Jack came suddenly upon me, leaping his horse over the hedge.
Ah I I see you anticipate what is to follow. He did not know me,
and I, moody and irritable, chafed him with rude words. Before
I knew it he had torn his sword from the scabbard, and gave
me this this accursed Cain brand 1
" It is a Cain brand, for I killed him I I had my hand on his
bridle, and when his blow came, like a thunderbolt, I called my
name to him, and pressing on his rein, his horse reared and fell on
him, crushing out his bright young life, and taking the last ves-
tige of human emotion out of mine. I killed him innocently, I
need not tell you ^but I killed him ^my brother 1
" Will you take my hand now, Mr. Barston f
"Yes,'' said Barston, clasping his extended hand while he
passed his other arm around the other's neck. " Poor old Elbert I
I am so sorry for all you have suffered I But your sufferings are
over, I hope. In the first place, your story does not happen to be
true. You did not kill Jack !"
" What say you ?" said Lacy, starting to his feet. " You mean
I am guiltless of intention but guilty in fact ^"
" I don't mean any such rubbish. Jack did not die of any hurt
inflicted by you, accidentally or otherwise. He died a natural
death !"
Elbert sat watching him with wonder in his eyes.
" It is true, Elbert. You know I would not lie to you ! Poor
Jack's life hung upon a thread. He had organic disease of the
heart. I knew it years before, for I have studied the science of
medicine. Dr. Holly knew it, and pronounced it the cause of his
sudden death ; and finally Dr. Cardon, who is the ultimate author-
ity on heart diseases in England, pronounced this case a perfect
specimen when I told him Jack's symptoms. Cheer up, Elbert,
and spend the rest of your days in thanking Heaven that this
burden is lifted from your heart."
" Can this be truef said Lacy, as if stunned. " Have I been
withering under this blighting curse all these years ! Why, if
your story is true, Barston, this beauty spot of mine may be ob-
literated also !"
" Perhaps. Let me look at it. Of all the sworders I have ever
known Jack was the best, excepting only his teacher. I marvel
that you lived to tell the story of that encounter."
" I had a tough ashen staff* in my hand, with which I parried
the blow. He cut through it as if it had been a pipe stem. I had
THE KINSMEN. 253
been sped, no doubt, if his maddened horse had not reared at the
same moment. Can the scar be cured "P
" It can be made much lighter, at least. Will you submit to
some pain and annoyance for a few weeks f
" To get this accursed mark off my face I would submit to a
year's torture upon the rack. When will you begin f
" ISTay, you shall have no bungler," said his cousin. " I will get
Cardon. Let us go to London and consult him. I will go with
you.''
" When f '
" To-night, if you will."
" Agreed. My dear Barston, there is no man like you on the
earth ! If I could make you know how this hideous scar bites
into my brain you would not wonder at my eagerness. And now
hear a word or two more. I never intended to take little Kellie
away. You discovered that I married Kitty at Stirling. I per-
suaded her to call herself Miss Tarn worth because your parson
Mend was spooney upon her, and I was sure he would hear of the
marriage. It was pure spite against him that prompted me.
When I met Kitty at Clifton it was accidental. She had Nellie
with her, and we were compelled to take her. I confess that I
enjoyed the thought that her mother would be distracted, but I
sent her a note by the tug to relieve her anxiety. When we
reached America I could not bear to take the child far out into
the West ; and indeed my wife would not consent. She is Jack's
child, and I was a prey to remorse on his account, and I drank
myself drunk nearly every day to escape from memory. Kitty
told me the day after you took the child that you had done it, and
she pleaded so earnestly to come back to England that I had to
yield. One day at sea, and your disguise and Nellie's were wasted
on me. The odour of salt water brought back all my faculties.
It was pleasant to watch you and Hawder and let you think you
were unknown ] but I have had no unkind thought in my heart at
any time against you, and more than once I have been on the
very verge of a full confession to you when your woman's voice
was singing in my ears I Ah, Barston ! no woman can withstand
you. If she listens she is vanquished 1"
Swiss blushed and laughed.
" Now I will go tell Kitty. You will be ready at train time?
And if your London doctor undertakes this cure you will stay by
me until it is done !"
254 THE LACY DIAMONDS,
" I will. We have an hour or more. I will meet you at the
station. Greet Lady Lacy in my name and tell her that her hus-
band's cousin is her cousin also, and claims kindred.''
" Stop, Barston," said the other, as he unlocked the door, "until
this blot is removed, no Lady Lacys, if you please ] no Sir El-
berts, but my old name inherited from the pirate captain, the
greatest thief and scoundrel that ever cursed the earth with his
presence Mr. Butler I"
CHAPTEE L.
Love Tokens.
WITH patient self-denial Lacy Barston staid by his cousin's
side while Dr. Garden wrought with the stubborn scar. He
talked, read the papers, explained multitudes of conventionalisms
of which Sir Elbert was totally ignorant, but which must be
known by all who move in refined society. He drove out with
him through the brilliant streets at night, when the bandaged
head of his cousin could not be seen, in their Hansom. And
when the baronet retired for the night Swiss would steal an hour
or so from his own slumbers to wiite to Parson Johnny.
He could only tell him that he was kept there in attendance
upon a friend, undergoing a prolonged surgical operation, and
that he w^ould fly to Lavington as soon as this duty was accom-
plished. Elbert steadfastly insisted upon maintaining his incog-
nito, until he could face the world without a blemish upon his
countenance.
One day Barston was walking down Eegent street, and he
suddenly ran against the rector. With a shout of delight he
clutched his arm, and hurrying him into the Haymarket, entered
the Western Glub. Seated in the smoking room Swiss bade him
" talk and tell him everything he knew."
" The best news I have, dear old Swiss, is that Glare and Eet
have just gone to Paris "
" Well, that is a promising beginning I" ejaculated Swiss, with
an elongated countenance. " How long will they stay!"
* I cannot tell," replied Mr. Harwood, with a little blush; they
are on a shopping expedition. Miss Tam worth is to be married a
month hence, and said she must go to Paris to get some things.'
I don't know what they are."
LOVE TOKENS. S56
" Where is Nellie f'
" At Harwood House."
" Why did you uot accompany the ladies f '
" They would not allow me. I am permitted to go after them
when notified. My dear Swiss, in one month from this day I
shall be invested with authority to regulate the movements of one
of them, at least. In the meantime submission to all sorts of
absurd whims is my daily lesson."
" Learn it well, Parson. You will find the knowledge useful
hereafter. Please give me the ladies' address."
" Hotel de Lisle et Albion," answered the rector. " Lord and
Lady Morton are there. Come with me to Harwood House,
Swiss."
" I cannot, Johnny. I am sorry, but I must attend upon my
friend here for a week or two more. He is undergoing a painful
and tedious operation, and I promised to stay by him."
" Who is it, Swiss T
^' Ah ! that is a secret. I will tell you later. This is the
fifteenth. Do you mean to tell me that you will be married on
the fifteenth of August!"
" That is the happy day, Swiss. Oh ! howl wish you also "
" Thank you, Johnny. I think I shall I Don't ever tell that I
said so, I pray you. But I shall set my wits to work to bring it to
pass ! It would be jolly to be married on the same day with you I
Where do you go for the honeymoon t"
"Through Scotland, the Lochs, the Trossachs, everywhere,
anywhere. You know I missed that trip last summer."
" So did I. The route is faultless. Would you object to have
Eet and me in the party f '
" Object ! Oh, Swiss I Poor Swiss I Have you spoken to Eet
on the subject ?"
" I have not spoken to her for three years I When I speak to
her again I will speak to purpose I My dear Johnny, my whole
soul is full of her ! Without one word of encouragement I am still
so happy, whenever 1 think of her, and that is always, night and
day, asleep and awake, that I know I shall win her I If she did
not love me in requital for all the volume of love I feel for her
why. Parson, it would be like a vacuum in nature. I am sure of
her I The horror, the dismay, the madness of failure ^Pooh ! It
is one of those things that are simply inconceivable !"
" Poor Swiss I"
256 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
" Get out, you sleek old rascal I'^ said Barston, " do you suppose
that you are the only raan that knows how to court F
" Ah, Swiss ! if it were anybody but Eet ! I have tried to get
her to talk of you a dozen times since you brought Kellie back.
She listens to all I say, but she never mentions your name!''
" Don't she f said Swiss, with a grin.
" Ko," answered the rector, a little nettled " and Clare tells me
that she has attempted once or twice to joke her about you, and
that she receives all these attempts with imperturbable gravity.''
" Does she !'" said Swiss, the grin broadening.
" Upon my word, Swiss, your conceit is intolerable I" said the
rector, in a rage. " It is bad enough for me to see how hopeless
your case is, without having to endure that complacent smirk
tool"
" Why, you poor old dunderhead I" said Barston, " all the symp-
toms you have described are highly favourable I I ara more thau
ever con\inced that she has a liking for me."
"Please enlighten me, then," said the bewildered Parson, " for
I vow I am entirely in the dark as to your method of extracting
comfort from the signs I have given you."
" Promise to keep the secret, then."
" I promise."
" Eh Men .'" said Mr. Barston, leaning back in his chair, " to be-
gin ^
"Stop, Swiss 1" said the rector, suddenly. "I have one more
shot before you begin. Do you remember sending a note to Eet
when you sailed from Bristol? Well, she handed it to me. I
read it. "You requested, poor boy, that she would show herself to
you from the Downs I Ah ! you remember, I see. I caught up
my hat, and bade her come to the Downs before your ship passed,
and she ^"
" Go on, Parson ! what the mischief are you stopping for ?"
" I don't like to tell you, Swiss I She took back your note,
folded it coolly, and said, ' Too late, Johnny ! the ship must have
sailed at daylight,' and she sailed out of the room with the most
perfect indiffereuce^ What ails you ? You will have a fit if
you cough and splutter in that fashion 1 Laugh out, you goose,
if you see anything amusing and encouraging in my story !"
"Excuse me, Parson I" said Barston, recovering his gravity. "I
will explain my hilarity anon. To begin: Women were intended by
Nature to govern the world. All of these modem * womens' rights '
LOVE TOKENS. 257
leagues are miserable caricatures of a grand truth. Also, all of this
awful rubbish about * natural selection ' has a golden thread of truth
mingled with enormous masses of lies and bosh 1 and that truth is
the essential domination of woman. Do not misunderstand me.
Her husband is her lord, and the true woman delights to acknow-
ledge his authority. But she does verily reign in and through
liim with despotic sway. You spoke of your 'authority' a little
xvhile ago. Why, you simple-minded Parson, do you not know
tliat one tear would melt your authority at once ? And what do
you think would be the power of a pint of tears all poured out at
once ? They keep them, man, subject to call 5 an army of rain
drops 5 swift, prompt, irresistible. No man who is not a brute can
"Withstand a true woman's tears I"
*' That sounds quite rational I'' quoth the Parson.
"Eational! Of course 1 Kow, secondly, they have another
"fcroop of invincible forces warriors, called smiles. Don't you
know, Johnny, that you would jump in the river to gain a smile
"When it is withheld f
"Yes, perhaps I"
" Then, Parson," continued the orator, " women are secretive in
1.11 matter^ pertaining to their affections. I cannot say they de-
ceive you, but they allow you to deceive yourself, and if there is
tny one thing which a spooney man is sure to do, it is to make a
^oose of himself whenever occasion offers. Eet never said she
disliked me, did she F
" No 5 I tell you she says nothing whatever about you !"
" And, therefore, you stretch your long neck up and think you
have read her heart I * K she did not dislike Lacy Barston she
"Would be certain to speak of him.' Now, try the other proposition 1
If she did not like Lacy Barston she would be certain to speak of
liiml"
"Very well, Mr. Swiss," said the rector, "have it your own
way. You forget that I have known a long time that you loved
liet, and that I have watched very anxiously for some symptom
"that was favourable. In vain, Swiss, in vain I"
" Keep on watching. Parson," said Barston, " but keep your
xnoi^th shut."
" No use to watch, Swiss ! That morning at Clifton satisfied
me 1 Why, if you had written that note to me I should have
crawled to the river on my knees if I could have got there no
otherwise. Just think of it I here you were about to start on a
258 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
long joiimey, three or four tbousaud miles, to look for her own
child, and all you asked was just to look at her as your vessel
passed the place I Why, if she had hated the sight of yoa she
might have done it out of mere gratitude I It was all hiimbng
about the ship startiug too soon. I remember now that the cab
was there ! Ah, Swiss, it was heartless I heartless !"
Barston rolled about in his cushioued chair in strong convul-
sions. Mr. Harwood took his hat and stalked with dignity to the
door.
'' I must bid you good morning, Mr. Barston," he said, " and I
beg you will not restrain your merriment on my account. I have
read of laughing hyenas somewhere, and," he concluded sardoni-
cally, ^^ I have also heard of people who laughed on the wrong
side of their mouths I"
OHAPTEE LI.
Sra Elbeet Laoy.
IT was the first day of August, and all Mature was bqking. The
various personages, in whose fate the charming reader is spe-
cially interested, were all in fair Devon. Morton Priory was
inhabited. Clare, with numberless trunks, had taken up her abode
there ; Lord and Lady Morton claimed her, and Eet relinquished
her at their urgent solicitation. Distracting parcels came from
Paris day by dayj and Miss Tam worth spent many hours in flutter-
ing fr(5m one trunk to another, gloating over the flimsy wealth
wrought by the nimble fingers of French modistes.
Sir Elbert Lacy and Mr. Barston had returned from London on
the previous day. The scar upon the brow of the baronet was
nearly obliterated; a faint line remained, visible only when some
strong excitement sent the Lacy blood to his forehead.
Lady Lacy was at the Red Hall. She was in the Lollard's room,
near the library, when a carriage came through the arch, and
grated on the gravel. While she wondered who her early visitors
might be, a servant brought the cards :
'' Sir Ulbert Lacy.'^
* Lady Lacy.^
With increased astonishment Eet directed the servant to show
the new comers into the library, and recognized Mr. Batl6r and
SIR ELBERT LACY. 869
itty, both in faultless apparel, as they entered the apartment.
Ret arose and stood by the library table, while the visitors
quietly took the seats the servant placed.
" I owe you an apology, madame,'' began Sir Elbert
" Pardon me I" said Eet ^^ William, ask Mrs. Froome to come to
tlie library."* She still stood, gazing intently at the composed
faces before her, until the rustling of Mrs. Froome^s dress an-
nounced her presence.
" Proceed, sir,^ said Eet.
"Ah, Mrs. Froome!'' said the baronet j "I might safely rely
upon you to recognize me. We have met once or twice within the
past few years ; but you must now go back a score of years to
recall the features of Elbert Lacy !"
The old woman went up to him, peered anxiously in his face,
then took his hand and kissed it.
" It is Sir Elbert Lacy, my lady I" she said, turning to Eet. " It
is Master John's elder Ibrother 1" Eet looked at her with silent
incredulity. " Nay, my lady," continued Mrs. Froome, " if you
have any doubt, look here !" She went to the opposite wall and
tore aside the crimson curtain from the portrait of the Eed Lacy.
Sir Elbert laughed, while a disagreeable sneer passed over his face,
and the red line on his forehead came into view. The resemblance
betwixt him and the picture was certainly very striking, and
Eet began to have some glimmering of the truth.
" Mrs. Froome," said Sir Elbert, " I remember a certain bin in
the wine cellar where my father had some South Side Madeira.
Do you think you could find a bottle t"
Mrs. Froome rattled her keys, and looked doubtfully "at Eet,
who was passing through certain mental exercises with lightning
rapidity.
" My lady I" said she.
" Eeally, Mrs. Froome," said Sir Elbert, rudely, " there is no
necessity for this appeal. And the title is inaccurate also, unless
madame may inherit it from the gentle Harwoods I There is no
Xiady Lacy here excepting this lady by my side."
" Why have you not asserted your claim earlier !" said Eet, the
haughty Harwood blood mantling on cheek and forehead.
"Certain obstacles prevented, madame," returned the other;
** besides, I thought I would wait for my birthday. I believe I was
"bom on the first of August, Mrs. Froome!"
" Yes, Sir Elbert ; at sunset."
280 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
" Well, the Ides have come, if not gone. May I trouble yon to
get the wine, I am athirst V^
Eet signed to Mrs. Froome, who rustled out of the room.
" Be seated, madame, I beg,'' said the baronet. " The owner-
ship of the old Madeira will hardly be questioned, I presume. I
shall have the pleasure of drinking your health presently. My
dear, remove your bonnet, and bid Mrs. Lacy welcome I"
Eet glanced from the window at the western sky. A dark cloud
was overspreading the heavens. She quietly put on a dainty little
chip hat that was lying on the table, and threw a waterproof
cloak over her shoulders. Mrs. Froome re-entered the library,
followed by William, with a tray containing wine glasses and
biscuits. Mrs. Froome placed a cobwebbed bottle on the table,
and William drew the cork with exemplary caution. The odour
of the wine filled the apartment. Eet was moving to the door,
when Kitty started up and caught her cloak.
*' Oh, my lady !'' she began
" Perdition!" said her husband. "I cautioned you against this
folly, Eatty, before we came. Please remember that you outrank
this lady, who comes of a mushroom stock in comparison with the
Lacy strain. She is the widow of a cadet of the Lacy blood, and
that is all."
" You are mistaken, sir," said Eet, coldly. " The Harwoods
were nobles of England some centuries before the Lacys were ever
heard of. Allow me to pass, Kitty, I am going out."
" My carriage is at your service, madame," said Sir Elbert, " but
as a storm is approaching, I think you will be wiser to remain. I
hope you do not take offence at my remark; it was rather intended
for Lady Lacy's ears than for yours. Moreover, I remember that
you rushed out, a few years ago, with haughtier greeting to Lord
Morton's discharged gamekeeper. I think it was just below this
window !"
" I leave you here," said Eet, with no mark of emotion upon her
features, except a slight expansion of her nostrils, " not knowing
whether you have rights here or no. If you have not you are not
welcome. If you have I should stifle in the atmosphere of your
house if I remained. I decline your carriage, with thanks ^"
The door opened as she spoke and admitted Swiss '^ Oh, Lacy
Barston !" she said, while strangely mingled tears of rage and joy
rained from her eyes " take me away I take me away !"
Barston caught her hands, drew them passionately to his breast,
SIB ELBERT LACY. 261
"^ntli an inarticulate cry, and then taking lier hand ui)on his arm,
fjEMjed Sir Elbert with stem displeasure.
" You have not done well, Elbert Lacy I'' he said, while the other
oooUy sipped the wine.
" Take a seat, Barston!^ returned the baronet ; " you are most
"welcome to the Red Hall. The last time you were here you left
is;omewhat suddenly, I remember. Hal ha I You did not know
l^liat I witnessed your abrupt flight, and your doleful countenance !
IForgive me, kinsman, I did not know you so well then, and I was
Xlaying a game against heavy odds. There were madame, yonder,
liord Morton, the dainty little Parson Harwood and yourself, all
ewom to thwart me. Yet I befooled you all I Ha ! ha ! allow me
"fco offer you a glass of wine I It is the old Seventeen Madeira."
" You knew of this, and did not warn me !" said Eet, reproach-
fully.
'^ I only arrived last night, Eet, and I have been seeking you all
^^ay. Johnny told me you were at the Priory. I have been there.
INellie is there and I had to take her for a little gallop. And then
JL came directly here, across fields, in a straight line. And when 1
left Elbert, last night, it was agreed that we should come here
"together this morning. And my errand now was to notiQr you.
Do not look so reproachfully at me !"
'Sit down, Barston," said Sir Elbert, "you must positively
taste this wine. Kitty, take a glass. What I no ? Mrs. Froome,
pray take my lady somewhere to lie down. Do not disturb Mrs.
lacy, I beg I"
" Come away P said Eet, stamping her foot impatiently, and
drawing Barston to the door " come away I''
" Stop, Barston," continued his cousin, with courtly ease, " stop,
I desire to recall that ride of yours. How it rained ! Surely you
do not intend to encounter a similar storm. It will be here in five
minutes. Sit down, man, and persuade that irritable lady to con-
trol her Harwood impatience, at least until the storm passes."
"Come away, I tell you!" exclaimed Eet, vehemently. "Will
you subject me to this insolent treatment another minute ?
Away !''
Swiss looked out at the scowling face of the heavens with
deliberation. Peace was in his soul, because she clung to him
and would not leave him, though he still lingered. He quieted
her with a gesture and turned to his kinsman.
" Elbert," he said with grave dignity, " you wound me deeply.
262 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
If any other man would dare do what you have done, he would
have to render account to me. I cannot quarrel with you, because
you are my mother's kinsman. I must stifle my just resentment
for her sake, and forgive you. If this rude entrance upon your
rightful inheritance is excusable at all, it is only because you have
fallen back into your intemperate habits, and are not yourself.
For your own sake, cousin, I pray you apologize to this lady. She
is the widow of John Lacy.''
" I apologize to the widow of John Lacy,'' replied Elbert, rising,
while the purple line in his forehead appeared again. ''His
memory is dear to me, and no one deplores his death as I do ! I
do not like this lady for her own sake, and I have just cause for
resentment, I think, against all of her race. But let that pass. I
did not intend this rude entrance. I came to say to her that my
rights should remain in abeyance while she chose to occupy the
Eed Hall, but she received me with all the infernal haughtiness
of those Harwoods, and exasperated me. Do you think I am dog
enough to eject a lady from my house? Shame on yoUj Lacy
Barston, for taking the part of any one against your only living
kinsman I"
" This is a lame apology, Elbert ^
" Madame," said the baronet, approaching Ret, who recoiled
and clung more closely to Barston. " Madame, I pray you par-
don my rudeness. I foresee that you will not accept my hospi-
tality, but you will take sore revenge for all my rudeness if you
leave the Red Hall in the face of this storm. If I am wanting in
decorous manner or in proper forms of speech, I pray you attribute
it rather to my rough training than to any desire to offend you. I
cannot profess a friendship that I do not feel, but I sincerely offer
you the shelter of this roof so long as you will accept it."
" Come away I" said Ret. " I thank you, sir, but other duties call
me away. Gome away, I tell you, or I shall go mad P
THE DROWNED BATS. S68
OHAPTEE LII.
The Drowned Eats.
AS they issaed from the door of the Eed Hall, Barston glanced
anxiously at the gloomy heavens. Far down in the east
there was a strip of blue sky, but all the rest of the vault was the
blackness of darkness. A long, ragged tongue of cloud stretched
down from the zenith, seeming to touch the tall tower of Lacy
Keep. The leaves were motionless ui)on the trees, and a horrible
calm, full of dismal portents, overspread the face of nature. The
swallows, which had their nests builded under the coping of the
tower, were sweeping on swift wings to the shelter of the spruce
plantation, beyond the ruined arch. It was not much past mid-
day, yet the gray light was more like the gloaming in high lati-
tudes, with the added obscurity of approaching storm.
" Eet," said Barston, " look around you and pause 5 there is no
mistaking these signs. Come with me to Mrs. Froome's room, and
wait until the tempest passes.^
'^ Away I^ she answered 5 " take me away I No tempest can be
worse than the shelter of that roof 1''
" Will you wait until I order the carriage ^^
" No carriage ! It is his !'' she replied, with haughty vehemence.
" I can walk ! Take me away !''
Barston led Eoland from the arch and leaped lightly into the
saddle.
" Stand, Eoland !'' said he, throwing the bridle upon the neck
of his horse. '^ Give me your hands Eet ^both of them so. Place
your foot on my boot. Up !" and he swung her before him on the
saddle bow. ' Ten stone, by the three kings !" he muttered, as
he gathered up the rein. "Eoland, my bonny bay, you carry
more than Caesar and his fortunes ! Away, brave Eoland !"
Eolaud reared his magnificent body, throwing out his fore legs
as if he were bearing a handful of thistledown. Then bounding
lightly away he passed through the arch and down the drive, as
if he had been projected from some enormous catapult. At the
same instant a sheet of flame leaped fi'om the bosom of the ragged
cloud, accompanied by a crash that seemed to rend the earth
under Eoland's flying feet. As they turned into the high road
Barston looked over his shoulder. They were on a bit of rising
ground, and the Eed Hall was in full view.
264 THE LAGY DIAMONDS.
Tom by a hundred conflicting emotions, Lady Lacy was for the
nonce oblivious of conventional proprieties. Overbearing all
other considerations was the $harp sting of humiliation, as she
remembered her haughty treatment of Sir Elbert Lacy a year or
two before, and the undeniable fact that she had been Hving, ever
since her marriage, in his house and upon his land. When Barstou
acknowledged Elbert's identity, all doubt concerning his legal
rights vanished, and she could find no answer to the mocking
words of the new claimant. The one impetuous purpose upon her
mind was to get away from Lacy Keep ; and while burning with
resentment against the intruder, her keen sense of right recog-
nized the validity of his title and her consequent trespass. A
dozen schemes, looking to the payment of a full rental for all the
years she had lived at the Hall, flitted through her mind, as the
thought of living under obligations to Elbert Lacy, late Butler,
was monstrous. Then, mingled with these reflections, was the
blissful thought that he, her hero. Lacy Barstou, had at last come
to claim her. Since the day when he held up his arms to her,
from the deck of the steamer, she had watched and waited for him,
and now, when those strong arms were around her, and those
' dauntless eyes looking so longingly into hers, what marvel that
she yielded so promptly to his invitation. One swift glance at his
face was enough to tell her where her true resting place should be
henceforth ; and perhaps also, for that recognition of lordship, of
which every true woman, tnily mated, is conscious. Hence her
prompt obedience when Barstou bade her mount Eoland.
" Eet," he said, " I see Mrs. Froome at the door, beckoning with
frantic eagerness. Shall we return F
" Kever ! Put me on the ground, if you wish to go. Never more
will I set foot on Lacy land 1'^
"Put you down !" said Swiss ; " go one way, and leave you to
go another ! Hark ! Do you hear the roar of the storm ? Are
you frightened F
She drew the hood of her cloak over her face and leaned it upon
his sturdy shoulder.
" It seems that I am fated to ride away from the Eed Hall in
the rain," said Barston. " Here it comes ! What a crash was
that I Eet, we must get away from the trees."
" Anywhere, any way, only not back. I am not frightened."
" Here we are, at the edge of the Dark Wood. Eet, I parted with
Jack just here."
THE DROWNED BATS. 266
" Did he give you the diamonds P
" What do you say f said Barston^ with a start.
" The diamonds I the Lacy Diamonds I''
" I never had the diamonds, Ret. He gave me nothing."
" Oh, dear !" said Eet, plaintively. ^' What wretches there are
in the world I Mr. Bottomry and Mr. DeVere both told me that you
held Sir John's securities. I have waited seven years for you to
bring them back to me.''
*' I never had securities, Eet. How could you think so meanly
of me !"
"It has almost killed me," she answered, passionately. "I
knew the necklace was worth thirty or forty thousand pounds. I
saw him take it that morning, and when he was found it was gone.
He had seen nobody but you."
" Yes, he had seen one other. I will tell you hereafter, it may be.
You drove me away, saying you hated me."
She murmured something about fear of falling, and slipped her
shapely arm around his neck.
" It was a big story," she whispered.
" Sometimes, when I have been on the tossing sea, Eet, or in the
quiet woods, I have recalled your words and looks, and it has
seemed to me that you meant to say ' I almost love you, Lacy
Barston 1' "
She clung closer to him, but said nothing.
" Because," he continued, " with my profound sense of unworthi-
ness, there was always mingled the conviction that you were the
only woman in the wide universe that I ever loved, or could love,
and I thought the very force of my devotion, which you know is
old as my life, must conquer your repugnance at last. Do I annoy
youf
" No," she whispered, softly.
" And I hoped that some mistake some slander, perhaps, had
damaged me in your eyes, which time would reveal and remove.
Tell me why you thought I had your diamonds If"
" I saw him take them that last day. I knew he was sorely
pressed for money, that he owed Mr. Bottomry and Mr. DeVere.
When he was found the diamonds were gone. After a year I ap-
plied to them both, and they both said you must have them,
because you had paid them all Sir John's debts. All that I could
hear of were about fifteen thousand pounds, and the diamonds
had been valued at Amsterdam at a much larger sum. I have
266 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
never told any one before tbat they were gone, and I hoped, year
after year, that you would bring them back to me. My father,
who tells me everything, told me two years ago that I would in-
herit from him fifty thousand pounds, and that I could have it
whenever I pleased to take it. Then I thought I would get back
the diamonds."
" There was something else, Ref
"Yes, I thought I heard you making love to Kitty. It was in
the conservatory at Morton Priory. You said she must go live at
Oakland.''
" Oh, Ret I how could you so woefully mistake me f
" I found out my error after you left me ! How could you get
your own consent to ride away in such a towering rage f And the
rain I I thought you would be drowned \^
All this time the rain was lashing the earth with a roar, but
these simple creatures heeded it not, or knew it not. With his
left arm around her, holding her close to his heart, Swiss was un-
conscious of all the phenomena of convulsed nature. He would
not have noticed an earthquake. Eet, nestled so securely there,
only knew that she had found peace at last. K Eoland had
been equal to it, Eet would have enjoyed the little excursion, if it
had lasted the day.
Eoland said nothing, but pounding the road with his heavy
hoofs, galloped on elastically. Ten stone additional was nothing
to him.
" What did you mean by ten stone,' Mr. BarstonF she said.
" Er hem. What did you say, EetF replied Swiss, with mani-
fest confusion.
"What did you mean by ^ten stone,' sir? That is what you
said, when you lifted me up !"
" Ten stone means one hundred and forty pounds avoirdupois,"
replied Mr. Barston. " I was probably thinking ^
" You were probably swearing at so much additional weight on
your poor horse ! It is a story, though ! I don't weigh- nearly so
much. Let me down, sir, I can walk !"
*^ Swearing !" said Swiss, holding her more tightly. It is the
author's deliberate opinion that this is precisely what she expect-
ed. " Swearing ! Let you down ! I will never let you down, Eet, .
while Eoland can keep on his legs, until you tell me you love me.''
" Do you want me to tell stories I"
"No."
THE DROWNED BATS. 267
" That night you were singmg ou the terrace ^Ah ! chela morti^
you abuost broke my heart ! And the letters you wrote to Johnny
^here they are, all of them. They all tell the same story. They
all say you love me, and they have never been out of my reach
since they came. I have read them every day, and wept over them,
and wondered if you would never, never, riever come for me ! My
hero ! my darling I'' and she threw back the hood, drawing his
liead down to her, and kissed him.
" Love you F she continued "Ah, how little do you know how
I love you I I love you so much that I am jealous of Johnny, of
I^ellie, my baby I''
" You need not be jealous, Eet. Your place in my heart is not
accessible to any other. I have never lived a conscious hour since
"we were children, when you were not uppermost in my thoughts
and love. My own Eet I All that I have suffered in waiting for
this hour shrivels up into nothingness. I have not lived hitherto.
1 have dreamed away the quarter of a century to no purpose. Ah I
what possibilities are in my future, with you by my side !''
" Why did you not tell me that you loved me, long ago P
" Oh, Eet, I was so poor ^"
" Shame on you I If you had but whispered to me that you
loved me, do you think I would have asked about your- money f
And now that you have money, I won't have you ! I am poor now P
" You just told me you had fifty thousand pounds.''
^^ Yes, but you ought to have more than that "
" I hope for more. I want one hundred and forty pounds more.
Oh, you dear little gossamer butterfly ! how I love you I"
" Let me go, sh* I Here is the Priory ! Put me down this min-
ute I Oh, you poor drowned rat I how wet you are !"
Eet walked demurely up the drive, and Swiss followed, leading
Eoland by the bridle. ' Eoland had made no complaints, but he
was laughing in his sleeve at his master and mistress, as they lin-
gered in the dowux)our, to murmur delicious nothings to each
other. But the terrace was reached at last.
" Here are two drowned rats !" said Lord Morton. " Why, Eet !
How did you get caught in this storm I Come in, child. Parson !
here is Mr. Barston, carrying a hundred weight of rain in his
habiliments. Take him to his room. Parson, and rub him down I
Luncheon is just ready. But we will wait for the rats 1 Away
with you 1"
^^ My lord, Johnny, my lady I" said Swiss, as Eet slipped through
268 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
the hall, and up the staircase, ^^ let me take all your hands at once I
That dear, precious, darling Bet, sneaking away yonder, has
promised to be my wife 1 Wish me joy 1"
Lady Morton kissed him.
The rector hugged him, and got his coat sleeves wet in the ope-
ration ; also his shirt front.
Lord Morton shook his hand warmly.
" Go to your room, Swiss, my dear boy my dear son and get
dry clothing. Your traps are there. I sent for them while you
were away. Take him away, Parson, and hug him after he is dry I
I give you twenty minutes. Go after the other rat, my dear l'^
An hour later the joyful household, at the luncheon table, were
admiring the glorious sunlight that had succeeded the storm.
And while the laugh and jest were passing round, a messenger
arrived with terrible tidings.
The Lacy Keep had been stricken by lightning, and Sir Elbert
killed at the moment that Swiss and Eet had ridden away. The
Keep was in ruins, having taken fire, and the old wainscot and
flooring burning like tinder, were all consumed, leaving only the
naked and riven walls of the old tower, a landmark that still
adorns that beautiful landscape.
CHAPTER LIII.
A Confession.
THE storm through which the happy couple passed, courting
under difficulties, was an exceptional storm in that peaceful
latitude. Swiss, in reading a description of it in the Lavington
paper, pronounced it a first class West Indian hurricane. His
mind was so entirely occupied with the ten stone treasure he
carried, that he did not remember any meteorological phenomena,
excepting the primal flash and its accompanying roar. It was
this bolt that shattered the Keep, and struck down its new lord,
and the last of the Lacy line. Mrs. Froome and Kitty, with
William's assistance, carried the body of Sir Elbert to the newer
portion of the Eed Hall, which escaped the conflagration that
destroyed the old Tower. He was buried in the ancient cemetery,
and his funeral was attended by all the gentry of the neighbour-
hood. Mr. Parchment came from London, and Mr. Macdower
A CONFESSION. 269
from Stirling, all under Barston's maua?ement, to identify the
baronet and his widow, and to comply with the legal requirements
to t.^ the succession. It is worthy of note that Mr. Macdower
was somewhat doubtful as to Kitty's identity, in her black attire,
until Swiss borrowed the diamond brooch, which she fastened on
her breast. Then the Scot swore to her, point blank. This shows
the value of circumstantial evidence.
The lands passed to Barston now in spite of his opposition. His
first act was to convey them to Ellen Lacy, infant, to her and her
heirs forever. As he had some new schemes in view, he burnt the
will he had made at her birth, in which he had made her his sole
heiress. Eet's zeal to pay him the fifteen thousand pounds, over
which they had formerly quarrelled, had gotten drowned out
between the Eed Hall and the Priory, on the first day of August.
On the sixth day of the same month these two happened to
meet in the conservatory at Morton Priory. The sashes were all
opened and the beautiful lawn seemed to have pushed its way up
to the house, coming in under the glazed roof of the conservatory,
and mingling the odours of the out-door flowers with those of the
tenderer plants within. Eet and Mr. Barston were seated in a
secluded corner of the conservatory, where nobody would be likely
to disturb them. There is generally an exception to all established
rules, and Nellie was the exception this time.
" I want to go ride with you on Eoland I'^ she began, as she
crawled upon Mr. Barston's knee.
'^ Eoland has lost a shoe, baby. I have sent him to Lavington
to get a new one."
" Mamma says," said Kellie, while a tear rolled out of each
round eye, " that I mustn't call you ' papa ' any more I"
" Does she I Well, wait nine more days, and then mamma will
teach you to call me papa again 1 Will you wait, JSTellie P'
" Yes !" said !Nellie, clapping her hands. She slid down from
his knee, and seeing a butterfly on the lawn, bolted out in full
chase. Eet looked at his placid face with blank astonishment.
" What do you mean by telling the child such absurd stories f
It would be horridly indecorous. I shall not allow her to do any-
thing of the kind I"
" When I call you wife, Eet," said Swiss, " you can surely allow
Nellie- to call me papa 1"
" Yes," she answered, blushing, "but not before."
^^ Certainly not I" said Mr. Barston^ taking her hand and kiss-
2 TO TBE LACY DIAMONDS.
ing it. " I meant Nellie to understand that the happy time would
come nine days hence, when Johnny and Clare ^
" Are you stark, raving, distracted, crazy ?"
" Very nearly, Eet I The thought of waiting nine more days
almost drives me mad ! Oh, how long have I waited I And now
I must pass nine more miserable days, forsooth, just because
Johimy was such a booby as to appoint the fifteenth of August !"
and he got her hand again, which she had snatched away, and
kissed it once more.
" I am sure I don't know what you mean, Mr. Barston," said Ret,
with great dignity, " you cannot have lost every grain of sense ;
yet the idea of proposing to a lady on the first of the month, and
exxecting her to marry you two weeks after, hardly admits of dis-
cussion."
" Two weeks ! Is it thus you measure time, Eet t I asked you
formerly, two ^nay, three years ago 1 When do you think it will
be proper to marry V^
" I don't know I in two or three years. Let go my hand, sir I'^
" Don't you love me enough yet t Alas I I had set my heart on
this, and I thought you would remember how long I have waited
for you I Ah, Ret 1" he continued, plaintively, " I cannot press
this suit, because I feel unworthy of you ^
" I do wish you would try to talk reasonably I" said Ret. " Don't
you understand that nobody in the world knows that you you
said all that to me, three years ago ! I never told Mother or
Father 1"
" Ko, my darling," said Swiss, innocently. " I thought you had
not, so I told them last night 5 also, Johnny and Clare."
" Really !" said she, biting her lips, " may I inquire what they
said F
*^ Ah, Ret 1" said the hypocrite " it will avail nothing to tell
you. If you have only thought of me as your possible husband
for six days, I could not ask you to marry me on the fifteenth, no
matter what they think. By the three kings of Cologne ! Td die
a thousand deaths before I would ask so monstrous ^"
" K you will please stop swearing, sir," said the lady, with crisp
politeness, " and tell me what Mother said I don't care about the
others I Johnny and Clare are half demented, and poor Father is
just led about by the nose by these two. What did Mother say ?"
" Oh, Ret," said the sly rascal, with a rueful face, "please don^t
ask me and please don't say anything to any of them about it.
A CONFESSION. 271
I am mortified enough as it is I You will marry me in five or six
years. Don't humiliate your future husband unnecessarily.''
Eet felt a little like crying. But she thought she would rather
scratch Swiss, just over his big eyes, looking so sadly into hers.
" If you can't tell me what Mother said, I can't tell what to say.
You seem determined to distress me !"
" My beloved ! I will tell you. They all said, with one voice,
that there should be a double wedding on the fifteenth. Your
darling Mother oh, how I love her, Eet ! was the first to say so."
" Why, you lunatic !" said Eet, starting to her feet. " It is wholly
impossible. I I have no things there ! and all the milliners
and mantuamakers in Devon could not get me ready in this inde-
cent haste I"
" Please sit down again 1" said Swiss, plaintively ; " I have a
confession to make I I know it will ruin me forever in your eyes
but I cannot bear to deceive you any longer. Sit down, Eet ! I
will make a clean breast of it and then I think I will go to sea
again I'*
Eet sat down, with amazement in her face. Swiss knelt on a
flower stand by her side, and propping his head with his hand,
half concealing his eyes, began his story. There was a melancholy
mtonation in his voice, that awakened her sympathy.
" Eet," he began, with sorrowful accents, " you know that I am
entirely ignorant of all proprieties in this business I You are the
only woman that I ever spoke to of love. I have never thought
of any other. And when I thought you might learn to love me, I
did not dream of any difficulties in the way. I will ask her again, I
said to myself, and if she says yes, I will be married with Johnny !
So, not having an opportunity to consult you I wrote to Clare
at the Hotel de Lisle and besought her to buy all the things for
you that she was buying for herself I I begged her to conceal her
movements from you as I had not yet had that blessed ride in
the rain I my 8ec(md ride in the rain, Eet I Oh, how hard hearted
you are I Well I I sent Clare a cheque for a thousand pounds,
as I did not know how much things cost. She has given me no
change. She has about forty trunks and boxes up stairs, belong-
ing to you. Stop one moment, Eet I Hear me out, I pray I She
has been dying to get a peep at the things ever since they came,
but has loyally refrained. She said you had milliners and all that
sort of thing in Paris, and she knew your peculiar tastes and so
she made the purchases and the things are in this house.
(
272 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
" And now, Ret, please say you forgive me I You can tell Lady
Morton that certain insurmountable obstacles are in the way at
present ^and I I have never been to Greenland. I will go to
Greenland, and wait there, until your time arrives to make me
happy I
" As for living on this island, within reach of you, within sound
of your voice, and yet know that I cannot call you my wife and
call that darling baby my daughter by the three kings I 111
never stand it I Kever I Never I"
As he turned away from her she rose from her seat and march-
ed to the door.
" Please to sit down and wait for me a few minutes, sir. I will
return immediately."
When she whisked her dress through the glass door, Mr. Swiss
composedly took out his cigar case and struck a Vesuvius.
" Puff I puff 1" he said. " Clare is about to catch it I I am
thankful that I am through my part, and still live. I wonder why
that rascally tailor has not sent my things down P
CHAPTER LIV.
Oenithologioal.
THE author of this volume once had the pleasure of going into
a railway station behind a locomotive. It had ^^ jumped
the track," as he was informed afterwards, and did not go into
the station very quietly. It is probable that Ret^s entrance into
Clare's chamber was in very similar fashion. The gentlemen who
manage experiments in gunnery, at Shoeburyness, can calculate
to a nicety how hard a knock can be given by a hundred pounder,
projected by a given weight of powder. If these scientists were
within reach they might estimate the force with which a hundred
and forty pounds of sweetness, tortured by a villain like Swiss
into a state of ^' demnition sweetness," would go through that
chamber door.
Miss Tamworth was expecting her. She rose at her entrance
and ran to meet her, kissing her tenderly. Ret feebly repulsed
her.
ORNITHOLOGICAL, 273
" Glare \P she said, viciously, " this is a nice business ! Could
I believe that you ^you would have treated me so shamefully F
" What do you mean, Eet f
" Oh, you are very innocent ! That crazy man down stairs has
told me all about it I I declare I feel so hurt ! Oh, Clare, it was
base !"
Clare began to whimper,
" There ! there !" said Eet, kissing her ; " please don't cry. I
suppose it was not all your fault I Ah I" she said, with pro-
phetic wrath, as she clenched her little hand, " won't I dress him
lor this ! Just wait, my gentleman ! Where are the things,
Clare V
" I don't k-n-o-w what you m-m-mean I" whimpered Clare.
" Don't you, dear ? The lunatic said you had forty boxes and
"trunks belonging to me ^bought in Paris ^under my own nose I"
" Oh 1 yes, they are all locked up in the Blue Boom. Here is
the key. May I go with you ?" she said, timidly.
" Of course. I shall want you to tell me what purposes the
things are to serve. Come along, pray."
" My love," said Clare, as she unlocked the boxes, " almost all
of these are duplicates of my o\vn purchases. Some of the dresses
I made you select you know, my darling, that I could not help
it. If you don't want them, they will all fit me, with very little
alteration. But I really thought, until last night, that therA was
an uuderstauding between you and the lunatic. I thought there
had been a little quarrel and that you had made it up. Oh, Eet I
t\i2^t poult de sole is lovely, lovely, lovely ! Did you ever see more
exquisite taste ? Madame Lacroix is faultless. Please slip this
skirt on. Oh, Eet, I hope you won't like it! Heigho ! I am so
sorry that I was misled I did not know the man was crazy. My
darling child ! you shall never marry a crazy man I This is the
poplin, Eet. That shade is entirely new, and it is lovely 1
" Oh, Eet, I found out something I Do you remember that story
of Mr. Barston and the French officer at Sebastopol ? Well, his
widow is Madame Dutilh, the milliner in the Passage de I'Orme 1
She knows Mr. Barston I He bought Nellie's hat there 1 And he
ordered a bonnet and left her three hundred francs to pay for it !
And it is here ! Eet, my maid carried that dreadful box in her
hand all the way from Paris. She kept hold of it when crossing
that horrid channel, even when she thought she was dying I I
have never seen it I See ! it is sealed up, where the cords cross,
18
1
2T4 THE LACY DIAM0ND8.
Shall we open it? Ob, that's a dear where are toy scissors?
here snip, snip. It is all wrapped in tissue paper. Ah, Ret I"
The two lovely ladies fell on their knees, one on each side of the
bonnet box. It was a great deal worse than the golden calf busi-
ness, as this idol was a flimsy thing, made up of a minute frag-
ment of straw, and other fragments of lace and ribbons. They
gazed, enraptured. At length, Clare took it up gingerly, and
placed it on Eet's head, with a little shriek of joy. Ret allowed
herself to be led to the mirror, where she half dislocated her
superb neck, trying to look at the back of her head. They stood
near the window, and Mr. Barston, lolling on the bench in the
conservatory, overheard their comments.
" Did you ever see such a bonnet. Ret F
" Never ! never! Oh, Clare, it is a duck.''
They were interrupted by the entrance of Lady Morton.
"Mother!" said Ret, "he wants me to marry him on the
fifteenth!"
u He f '
"Yes, ma'am!" said Clare j "she means that wretched in-
ebriate "
" Whom do you mean. Miss Tam worth f said Ret.
. " I mean your lunatic, of course. My lady, he ordered this
bonnet ) just please look at it !"
" What superb lace, Ret !" said her Mother ; " it is beautiful,
indeed. Well, my dear, what did you tell him ?"
" I did not tell him anything. K you say I must ^"
" I think you must. Ret. I have loved the poor motherless boy
ever since I first saw him. You are a happy woman, daughter."
" Where is Father f said Ret, placing the dainty bonnet in its
box.
" In the library;" and with one lingering look at the duck, Ret
departed.
Lord Morton was poring over a parliamentary report. Ret
took her seat on his knee, and put her arms round his neck and
hid her face on his shoulder.
" He wants me to be married on the fifteenth, sir," she whis-
pered.
" Of course. Ret. Why not f '
" It seems so dreadfully sudden, sir."
" Sudden ! Pooh ! The poor fellow has been courting you for
three years ! Do you love him, Ret f"
ORNITHOLOGICAL. 2T5
Yes, sir, a little.'^
'^ Well, I love hiin very much as I do my other boys. When
you know him better you will love him more, Eet.''
" Have you any money, sir V^ said Eet, tossing her head.
" Money ! Certainly ! How much do you want F
" A thousand pounds, sir, please."
^'Hum, that is a moderate demand, certainly. I do not
usually carry such sums in my pocket. I shall have to write a
cheque."
" That will do, sir. Thank you, sir."
Mr. Swiss came forward as she reappeaifed. He had resumed
his melancholy air of resignation, and something in his attitude
recalled Lady Morton's expression, " the poor motherless boy."
He was a tolerably well grown orphan, too.
" Since you left me, Eet," he began, " I have been thinking
what a wretch I was to order those things. It all comes of a habit
of mine. When I have a purpose in view I always try to provide
the minutest details. I reasoned in this wise : if she consents to
marry me, she will require .the same sort of preparation ^things,
in fact, that Glare is purchasing. I cannot ask her about the
things until I ask her to take me. I cannot ask her to take me
until I see her. If I don't get the things now, it will be too late
when they come from Paris "
" There ! there !" said Eet, " you need not make any more ex-
planations. How did you become acquainted with Madame
DutUh r
'^ What ! you mean the milliner f '
" Yes, sir, I mean the milliner."
^^ I found her in the Passage de POrme, soon after her husband,
the captain, died. He was wounded in the Crimea."
^' Yes, sir, I understand," said Eet
" And I felt a great interest in her. He was a gallant fellow,
Eet, for a Frenchman."
" And you naturally tried to comfort his widow ?"
" What do you mean, Eet I She is a yellow, shrivelled little
Frenchwoman, and takes snuff!"
" Indeed !"
^^ If you had not been so deeply offended, Eet, I meant to talk
to you about the trip to the Highlands. I have been picturing to
myself the most delightful honeymoon in the midst of that grand
scenery. I thought you would climb Ben Nevis with me,
and ?'
2T6 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
" I thought you had concluded to try Greenland,'^ said Eet,
slyly.
"Kot unless jou drive me there. Ah, Eet! why are you so
obdurate? If you will let me* have my way this time, you will
thenceforward own the most abject slave ^
" I don't want any abject slaves, sir P
" Well, the most loyal subject, then, for you are my queen, Ret.
You don't look quite so angry now. If you will only tell me that
you forgive me about the things, I will not transgress again."
" I suppose not," answered Ret ; " it is rather expensive. Here,
sir ! allow me to return the thousand pounds, with my thanks.
You need not promise not to repeat the offence. It is not at all
probable that you will offer your wife such a sum to spend iu
Paris !"
" Shall I go to Greenland, Bet ?" said Swiss, as he put the
cheque in his pocket-book. " This will pay all expenses at least.
I may as well tell you that Lord Morton gave me a similar cheque
last night, in settlement of my outlays ^"
" Give me back that money I" said Eet. " There ! let me go,
sir, or I'll scream. Greenland! Ah, would you dare leave me
again?" and she secreted and dropped a dozen tears in three
seconds, which Swiss kissed away in the same space of time.
" May I ask you one question, my precious Ret P'
" Yes."
" Was the bonnet a regular duck, my love F
She extricated herself from his arms, and walked with stately
dignity to the glass door. Pausing at the threshold, she turned
upon him a withering look, while he choked and coughed, trying
to restrain his mirth.
" Yes, sir !" she said, severely. " It is a duck. And you will
permit me to add, that you are a goose 1"
CHAPTER LV.
i / The Lords of Creation.
IT was late in October, and summer departed with great reluc-
tance. All the country around Morton Priory was sleeping iu
beauty. Lord and Lady Morton, with their two sons, had gone to
Essex, and wore expected to return that afternoon to lovely Devon.
THE L0ED8 OF CREATION. 217
In the famous conservatory two American rocking chairs, made of
split hickory, and exceedingly comfortable, were occupied by two
happy bridegrooms, who had left their partners at the luncheon
table. Were they smoking t Of course.
" These are the Colorados, Swiss," said the rector. " If any of
your keys will fit Father's cigar case, there are some Oscuros there,
I know P
" Do you suppose I would commit petty larceny, you old burglar?'^
replied Mr. Barston.
" ^o indeed ) we could put some of these light ones back ) Father
prefers them. It would not be robbery only an exchange."
" Where did you get them. Parson?''
" In Father's dressing room."
"If mine wasn't lighted I would reject it with indignation,
Johnny I Stealing is a mean vice at any time. But stealing from
that great and good man. Lord Morton, is positively mfamous !"
" Pooh ! He left them there for us, of course. Isn't this jolly,
Swiss r
" Paradisaical, Johnny. How one's views of life are enlarged
by matrimony ! Do you Ipiow, Parson, that you and I have
wasted all our former lives I We are now beginning our careers.
You will preach a thousand times better ^
" Haven't written a sermon for nearly three months I" said the
rector, dolefully. " I don't know where to begin. I haven't read
a word in a book, and hardly looked at a newspaper."
" Books ! you don't need books. You have the sweetest wife in
the world, excepting one, and you can learn more in one hour's
conversation with her than you could learn from forty books. And
if she don't know enough, Ket can instruct her. Site knows every-
thing I"
" That is comical 1" quoth the rector 5 " what little poor Eet knows
she has learned from Clare I Swiss, she is the most superior
woman in England 1"
" It will avail nothing, Johnny, to discuss their relative merits.
Since I have been married, I have begun to understand what is
meant by the lordship of man over the intelligent creation. His
dominion over the brutes is a small matter. But when he has a
wife who spends her hfetime in studying his merest whims who
anticipates his wishes almost before they are shaped in his own
mind, by her keen perception, and who yields her preferences with
such charming grace and sweetness ^it is then, and then only,
that man appreciates his lordship I"
278 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
" Exactly !^ replied the rector " only sometimes one does not
know precisely what one wants. Then the dear angel enlightens
him, and he has his own way, without knowing if
" Pish ! You have not risen to the grandeur of my thought.
Women have a faculty by which they perceive our hidden pur-
poses, wliile our slower logic is plodding to a conclusion.^
" Yes,'' responded Mr. Harwood ; " Do you remember our as-
cent of Ben Lomond?''
" Ko," st)luttered Swiss " we did not ascend that inaccessible
height. It was a foolish project "
" Yes. That was what Ret said," replied the Parson dryly. " I
suppose her quick perception had enabled her to discover that it
would wear out her boots ! Clare and I went to the top of that
Ben I"
" And came back again as cross as two amiable grimalkins I
Ret and I staid below in the heather, discoursing like sensible
people."
" You made sad havoc with the dinner, though ; I only got a
small taste of the grouse pie."
" Wliat a regular glutton you must be, Parson," said Swiss
"you have fallen into bad habits. Eating and smoking are not
the chief end of your existence I Who is there !"
"I want you, please !" answered a sweet voice from the lawn.
" Do you want me, madame ?" said Swiss, rising.
"Xo, I don't want ^me, madame;' I want the Reverend Mr.
Harwood," replied Clare. " I can't come in there among all that
horrid smoke I It would ruin my shawl ! The odour would never
come out. Never !"
" My dear Parson," whispered Swiss, " now is your opportunity.
It is highly unreasonable to call you away from your smoke.
Your digestive organs require "
"What are you whispering about?" inquired Mrs. Harwood.
" Are you coming ?"
" In a moment, my dear I" replied the rector. " I cannot come
with my cigar, you know. Will you wait for me ?"
" Not a second !"
The rector glanced irresolutely at Swiss.
" Go !" said that worthy ) " go ! you hen-pecked old wretch !
You deserve your bondage, because you have not had pluck
enough to assert your lordship from the first. Go along with youP'
" It is only a Colorado !" quoth the rector, throwing his weed
away and stalking majestically out.
/
THE LORDS OF CREATION. 2T9
Mr. Barston leaned back in liis chair, and laughed until the
tears ran down upon his beard.
" That dear Clare is a stunner !" he said, watching the couple as
they walked away. " But she suits Johnny admirably. Evidently
he does not appreciate the kingship, which he relinquishes so
lightly. That was a famous dodge of his, to express his contempt
for ' Colorados.' To such base subterfuges must the man come
who does not reign in his own household. Poor old Johnny ! His
cigar was rather more than half smoked though. It will be jolly
to tell him that I had two. I think I will light another.'^
^' I don't think you will,^ said another melodious voice, as a
plump arm was passed around his neck, and his cigar removed by
dainty taper fingers. " This makes four to-day,'' continued Ret,
" and you will soon require a dozen to satisfy you. Your system
is full of nicotine, and you will have softening of the brain pre-
sently. The specific effect of that poison is to retard the circula-
tion. Congestion then paralysis "
" Where in the world did you pick up all that lore, my darling!"
said Mr. Barston, submissively.
" No matter where," replied madame ; " it is sound doctrine,
however. Faugh! the conservatory smells like a German beer
garden I Come out 1"
Swiss followed, with a hang-dog expression of countenance
totally at variance with his discourse on lordship.
" ]\Iy dear," said Ret, taking his arm, and following the griniUng
rector and his wife 5 "don't you think a man of your excellent
sense should put some restraint upon so harmful a habit t I would
never dream of interference, except fop. your own sake, my love.
But when I think of you falling over in a fit of apoplexy, I am
ready to scream ^
" Don't scream, you precious angel I" said Swiss. " I am sure
that would throw me into a fit, without the aid of nicotine. I have
such unlimited confidence in your judgment, my love, that I will
promise to confine my fumigations within whatever limits you
direct."
Ret squeezed his arm,
" Do you think I would put limits upon you ? Do you think I
would measure my feeble intellect with your clear, sound judg-
ment % Never I never ! All that I ask of you is to consider the
matter, and I will freely promise to speak of it no more. Only re-
member how desolate your poor wife would be if you were to kill
yourself with that dreadful nicotine F
280 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
" TVcll, Eet," quoth Mr. Barston, with an air of superb royalty,
"I will investigate the whole subject thoroughly. And, in the
meantime, I will only smoke one more to-day; just one, after
dinner.''
They speedily overtook the rector and Clare.
"Where is your cigar, Swiss ?" said Mr. Harwood.
" Smoked out, Parson."
" Won't you have another?"
" Not now, thank you. The truth is, Johnny, I am reluctant to
smoke stolen cigars at second hand. I don't mind stealing yours,
when I know you got them honestly."
"Very lame, Swiss!" said the rector. "Now listen, you old
humbug 1 These charming ladies were hidden behind the lemon
trees while you were discoursing so eloquently about lordship.
They silently retired and concocted their little plot. My demure
little wife called me out, and I obeyed. Your angelic wife collared
you and brought you out. The next time you wish to enlarge
upon the domination of the husband, you had better get in the
open fields, or like that other old humbug, Demosthenes, upon the
margin of the sea I Laugh at him, girls !"
" My dear Parson," said Swiss, his voice falling into the sweet
tones that indicated earnest sincerity, " my experience has been
large enough to teach me this much: It is so delicious to dis-
crown one's self, and to lay one's diadem at the feet of one's wife,
that domination culminates in the very act of yielding the
sceptre. None but a king can relinquish dominion. They who
resist that gentle sway, and tear away those silken chains, are not
husbands they are bluebeards ; and the clearest records of the
world's long history teaches the same lesson. No race has ever
been dominant where women did not reign. The Eoman, lord of
the earth, growing corrupt in success, reversed this beneficent
law of the race, and was exterminated by the rude Gothic tribes,
whose distinguishing characteristic was deference to the gentle sex.
And now that the domination has passed into Anglo-Saxon
humanity, let us be grateful that deference to the woman, the
queen of love and beauty, still distinguishes that race from all
others on the surface of the planet. The reign of the distaff is the
hope of the world !"
L'ENVOI. 281
CHAPTER LVI.
L'Envoi.
OEETAIN" threads dropped here and there in the foregoing
history remain to be gathered up. The author intended the
concluding words of the previous chapter to be the conchiding
words of the story, but some critics who have patiently read thus
far, profess great interest in the minor characters and demand a
more minute account of their sayings and doings. They also com-
plain of vagueness in portions of the story, where it was supposed
the imagination of the reader would supply deficiencies, and fill
up all lapses. Those of the aforesaid critics that object to weird
and inexplicable touches here and there, now demand a matter of
fact solution of those portions of the Red Hall legend that refer
to the unexpected appearance of the Countess DeLys, at the crisis
of Sir Ranald's history ; and also an explanation of a prophecy
spoken by a lady who was supposed to be comfortably defunct at
the date of its utterance.
The ruins of Lacy Keep still stand, the walls now overgrown
with ivy. On that part of the inner wall, where Sir Ranald's room
was supposed to be, there is a fragment of a stone stairway, built
in the thickness of the wall, connecting this room with the cham-
ber above, l^o doubt this communication was hidden by wains-
coting, which had been destroyed by the lightning-kindled con-
flagration, when Sir Elbert died. And sight-seers who visit the
locality, and listen to Mrs. Froome's miraculous stories, point to this
crumbling ruin, and assert, with great complacency, that the
Countess had traversed this hidden passage, and after filling her
auditors with terror at her dismal rhyme, had returned to her
chamber, and died outright. The old dame rejects the hypothesis
with high scorn, and holds to her original theory, as hinted in the
body of this narrative. The modem portion of the Red Hall is
uninjured, and occupied by Kitty Lady Lacy whose life is spent
in the practice of unobtrusive charities, that perpetually contra-
dict her cold, impassive exterior. The rare occasions when this
coldness gives place to tokens of pleasure, are those in which Mr.
Barston and Nellie pay brief visits to the Red Hall. Mrs. Bars-
ton has never revisited the place, since the day wben the stately
Keep was transformed into a ruin.
282 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
John Hawder is steward of Mr. Barston's estate. Sometimes he
finds willing listeners, to whom he recounts certain portions of his
American adventures, in which Mr. Barston figures once and again.
Tommy Dawson cultivates the soil at Eipple Farm. All his
wounds are healed, except the portentous gash in his face, which
his wife daily fills with dumplings. He still talks of his version
of the descent of man, comprised in a short chapter that only tells
of his rapid journey from the cliff to the beach below. The
favourite item in this account is the " sawing of a 'ole in his 'ead"
by Dr. Cardon; and Tommy describes his emotions under the
"hoperatiou'' with grisly minuteness, which is the more remark-
able as he was in a comatose state when the sawing was done.
Mrs. Dawson, the dowager, is the ultimate authority at Ripple,
and Jenny is the most dutiful of daughters, and a prime favourite
with the old dame, whose chief solace (after curd-making) is to
coddle the later generation of Dawsons, with flaxen heads, and
inouths constructed with due reference to dumplings. Mr. and
Mrs. Barston take frequent equestrian trips to Ripple, accom-
panied by Kellie, who is the sole owner of a Mexican pony, that is
a natural pacer and docile as little Laura's lamb.
The Diamonds. No one knows the fate of the Lacy Diamonds
but Swiss and his wife. Both shrunk from telling the story, and if
it were not that no secrets are withheld from each other, both
would have refrained from the subject, even between themselves.
On the day of their marriage, Mr. Barston presented his bride
with the box he had picked up on the deck of the steamer. She
opened it, and discovered a necklace of sparkling gems.
"My diamonds I'- she exclaimed.
Swiss said nothing.
She took out the jewels, held them up to the light, kissed them,
and dropped a joyful tear or two, and clasped them round her
neck. Then she took them off and examined them narrowly.
" Where did you get them F she said.
" Do you recognize them, Ret F
" Yes. They are not the same diamonds that I lost."
" Will any one else detect the difference T said Swiss.
" I think not. The necklace is a little tighter on my neck and
the gold is brighter. They are almost exactly like the others.
Tell me about them.'^
" I persuaded Clare to steal your brooch, and your Mother de-
scribed the original necklace to me. A London jeweler did the
I2ENV0L 288
" And yoii have spent ^
" Nothing. ^Vhen you drove me away, three years ago, I went
to Charleston. Before I left I bought a blockade runner and her
cargo of cotton. She e8cai)ed, and reached Liveri)ool in safety.
A week before Nellie was stolen away from you, I sold vessel and
cargo. The necklace represents the difference between my outlay
and the proceeds. The former owner was a young Englishman,
who had invested all his fortune in this venture. The blockade was
rigid, and the escape of the ship seemed impossible. He applied
to me for advice, bringing his young wife with him. Oh, Eet, she
reminded me of you I So sweet, so gentle, so good ! They were
British subjects, and could get througli the lines, if they had the
money that was locked up in the " Nellie " and her cargo. My
advice was to sell the ship to me, to take what money I had to
spare, and a cheque on my bankers in London for the rest. While
I was irresolutely considering the matter, he happened to mention
the name of his vessel, the " Nellie,'' and I was then compelled to
buy her. On the next night there was an easterly storm, and I
sent the ship out in the teeth of the gale. The blockading
squadron was obliged to stand out to sea, and the " Nellie," cross-
ing the bar, ran down the coast and escaped. It was my first and
last commercial exploit, and I dedicated the proceeds to you.
" My darling ! if you and I can thus bury the story of the real
Diamonds, as deeply as they were buried, *full forty fathoms
down ' under the sea, I know of nothing except the joy of calling
you my wife that could so much comfort me. Shall it be so ^^
The answer was audible, but inarticulate.
" Do you know, Eet," said Swiss, blushing like a girl, " that I
cannot help rejoicing at the loss of those horrible diamonds I My
Mother has told me the story of the Bed Lacy a hundred times,
and I have always thought of the jewels as the messengers of
Satan I I had never seen them, until that night, when Elbert cast
them into the sea, and I knew instinctively that they were the
same accursed baubles that had been bloodstained a dozen times.
My Mother said the necklace alone belonged to the Lacys. The
earrings and brooch were added by Mrs. Lacy Harwood two or
three generations ago. And now, my beloved, you have the full
set, wi^out the curse ^for the curse is under the ocean. There
were some lines that my Mother used to repeat, but they have
escaped me ^
He was interrupted by Bet, who took the jewel case, and
284 THE LACY DIAMONDS.
removed the false bottom, A small piece of parchment fell out.
It was yellow with age, and when Barston unfolded it, the antique
characters traced on it were almost invisible. With some difficulty
he read as follows :
"^^Ijc Cacg tijat IjolbttI) tl)c Kcb jQall anb fee
21 score anb a l)alf score l)e never sl)all see,
%\X{ tl)e fetoel from kin-bloob be toasl)eb in tlje sea,
3nb tempest anb flame
0mite tl)e last ortl)e name
lOitl) tl)e l)all of l)is fathers, tjjis tueirb shall tljeQ bree !'*
They sat in silence a few minutes.
" Eet I" said Barston, with a puzzled air, " what do you think
of these lines f "
'^ I don't think much of them," she answered indifferently.
'^ But Eet ! these lines were written hundreds of years ago.'^
^* I don't believe it."
They were certainly written three or four years ago I"
Yes."
Well I their accurate fulfilment is overwhelming to me !"
The coincidences are a little remarkable," she answered.
" Mrs. Froome told me the old story before I was married. It
made a deep impression upon me, probably because of Mrs.
Froome's dramatic manner, I forgot thie lines she repeated, but
retained the idea, and candour compels me to confess that I wrot
the doggerel you have just read."
" But the old parchment I the faded ink I"
" Oh, that was nothing in comparison with a hundred tricks of
yours, you old deceiver ! I got some parchment from Father,
smoked it, diluted some ink, and made the rhyme. I spent half a
clay over it !"
" The next generation," said Swiss, " will swear that those lines
were written after the events. It is in this way that fellows who
don't believe in ghosts or legends get rid of testimony ! But, my
dear," he continued, with tremulous anxiety, " do you intend to
grind out any more poetry ? I know a poetess in London who
puts things in the magazines. She has a bald place on the top of
her head, and wears green spectacles, and looks like the demented
old idiot she is!"
" No more poetry, MjficirtiUjy[l. and last effort is this
short requiem over."