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These Stories originally appeared in early volumes
of the Quiver and Cassell's Magazine, since out of print.

"IT WAS NOT LONG BEFORE WE WERE FAIRLY IN THE CHANNEL" (see p. 87).
THROUGH FLOOD-THROUGH FIRE;
BY
HENRY FRITH;
S
AND
OTHER STORIES,

CASSELL, PETTER, GALPIN & CO.,
LONDON, PARIS AND NEW YORK.
[All Rights Reserved.]
1880
MU
4:
?.
THROUGH FLOOD-THROUGH FIRE
THE JET-HUNTER'S STORY
THE GREAT GOLD SECRET
SNOWED UP
A RACE FOR LIFE
MUTINY ON BOARD
WATCHING AHEAD
CONTENTS.
ALL RIGHT at Last
LOST
MY BALLOON ADVENTURE
313187
PAGE.
9
24
36
52
70
84
99
112
. 123
140
X
1ŕ

"THROUGH FLOOD-THROUGH FIRE."
Blighted Hopes-Two Letters-Business Abroad-A Change of Scene-
The Comfortable Quarters-An exciting Fire-Left Behind-On the
River by Night-A dangerous Leap-In the River-Two Friendly
Planks-Down the Mill Stream-Mill Wheel or Weir-Slow Recovery
-An Explanation.
dear
"I
ASSURE you, my
boy, I am extremely
sorry to appear unkind in
this matter; but believe me,
I am acting for the best."
WM
"But surely I may see
Rosie as usual?" I asked.
"I am afraid not," replied
Mr. Temple. "It would be
very injudicious. You are
both too young and too ro-
mantic at present. Besides,
your means are utterly inadequate to maintain a wife."
"May I not bid Rosie good-bye, then?" I persisted.
"One more meeting cannot hurt either of us!"
"Rosie is not at home," replied her father, gently,
almost sympathetically, as he shook me by the hand.
"She went to stay with some friends yesterday. Good
night; and hope for better days."
10
THROUGH FLOOD-THROUGH FIRE.
"Good night," I replied. "I suppose you don't mean
to be unkind, M. Temple; but you have made me very
miserable."
"My dear young friend," he replied, putting his hand
kindly on my shoulder, "were you in a position to
maintain a wife, I would sanction your engagement in
time; but now such a course, though painful for us all,
is the only one Mrs. Temple and I can in justice adopt.
We shall be pleased to see you again after our return
from the Continent. Good night."
I made no reply-indeed, I could not have spoken
just then. My throat was choked with tears, and big
drops welled slowly from my eyes as I walked away
across the open space facing the house. This was to be
the termination of our engagement, then! Rosie
Temple and I had flattered ourselves that a series of
dances, pic-nics, and charade-parties, with a very good
knowledge of lawn-tennis and croquet, constituted house-
keeping. We had only £300 a year between us, and dear
Rose always spent £40 at least on her dress annually.
She had lately been very economical in the matter of
gloves, and had made herself a bonnet which was in
every sense becoming; still, we were not much nearer to
matrimony then; and now!
So I pursued my way across the common, and I do
not mind confessing that I shed tears as I walked in
that dark evening beneath the trees and into the gloomy
and desolate high road, caring for nothing and for no-
body except Rosie; my pretty, piquante Rose; wonder-
ing whither she had gone-or had she really gone.
Was it not a pardonable subterfuge on the part of Mr.
Temple to induce me to leave the neighbourhood?
THROUGH FLOOD-THROUGH FIRE.
11
At that time I had, unfortunately, no occupation.
I had been a clerk in a banking-house, but the “bad
times” had necessitated a reduction in the "staff," and
I was one of those sent away at a month's notice and a
month's salary. True, I had a small income derivable
from a legacy, but this was scarcely enough to keep
me in bread and cheese and clothing.
It will therefore be seen that Mr. Temple was quite
right. Matrimony was a luxury I could not afford.
acknowledged it even then as I went home despond-
ing.
When I reached my lodgings I found two letters
awaiting me. One was from my brother who was com-
manding a detachment of his regiment in Ireland, the
other was from my late father's solicitor. I opened the
"official" note first.
It contained only a few lines, requesting me to call
on him in London in a day or two, as perhaps I might
be able to do some work for the good-natured lawyer.
The other letter was most cheerful, and bore a warm
invitation to share my brother's country quarters for a
fortnight, "or longer if I liked," next month.
Before I went to bed I replied to both my kind
correspondents, accepting both invitations.
Next day I went up to London, and in the afternoon
I called upon the solicitor nervously.
His business was simple. Did I know French? I
did. Was I acquainted with book-keeping? I was.
"Well, then," said he, "will you go to Geneva, and
transact this business, particulars of which I will give
you to-morrow? You shall be paid as my clerk, and
have your expenses and something besides."
12
THROUGH FLOOD-THROUGH FIRE.
"Agreed," I said gladly; "I will go. When am I to
set out?"
!
"As soon as you can get ready. If you do this well I
think I can help you to something better."
I wrung his hand and left him, took the first train
home, packed up, and next morning at eleven o'clock
was at the office in London again. I wrote to my
brother telling him the facts, mastered my instructions,
and next morning I was in Paris.
I found the business at Geneva much more complica-
ted than I expected. It was a liquidation case. Day
after day passed; the days ran into weeks; and at last,
after six weeks' hard work and a run to Chamouni, I
was on my way home again.
"Well done!" was the verdict passed upon my efforts,
and was very welcome, accompanied as it was with a
cheque for fifty guineas.
"Call on me when I return to town," said my friend,
"in about five weeks' time, and I will tell you some-
thing I think you will be glad to hear.”
My thoughts immediately flew to Rosie. Not that I
had by any means forgotten her; but now I was idle
again I felt even more dejected than ever. Liquidation
cases are not romantic!
I was now at liberty to join my brother. I tele-
graphed at once, and at eleven o'clock that evening I
was knocked up to take in the reply.
It was short and to the point. It ran thus-" Come
along, old fellow; stay as long as you like."
I went. I lived with the detachment; and what fun
we had! Fishing in a fine river close by; cricket; a
little shooting, for September was upon us now; rowing
THROUGH FLOOD-THROUGH FIRE.
13
up and down the stream; and dining with the hospitable
Irish residents, made up the total of our days after
parade or inspection.
One guest-night-for we had our little social parties
occasionally-we were sitting at the open windows,
when the sub. of the party exclaimed-
It's a fire, I
"What a glare there is yonder !
believe."
"Bedad, your right!" said one of our guest s. "It's
down by Sir John's; he has a house full. I hope it's
not the house itself."
66
"Shall I turn out the picket?" asked my brother.
Why, look, it's increasing; they may want assistance.”
As he spoke the flames mounted up and the lurid
smoke rose high into the glare above.
"Sound the fire-call and turn out the pickets, Ham-
blyn," said my brother. "Take the men down at the
double. We'll drive over. Come along. Look sharp!"
I hurried out for a coat to cover my dress-clothes.
Of course, being in a hurry, I was delayed. In the
dark I groped unsuccessfully, and at length when I
crossed from my room I found that the others had
driven off in the cars our guests had come over in. The
sentry at the gate civilly "shouldered" his rifle as I
passed, and in reply to my question told me that the
captain and the whole party had gone, leaving word
for me to follow, if I liked.
Yes; but how? "They've taken all the cars, sentry."
"Yes, sir; but there's the gig, sir."
"Whose gig?"
"The boat, sir. You can scull down almost as
quick as they'll drive, yer bonour.”
14
THROUGH FLOOD-THROUGH FIRE,
}
"Good!" I would pull down. It was not far;
the moon was still bright. I knew the river pretty
well.
No sooner thought than done. A soldier from the
guard-room came across and helped me to launch the
gig.
"That's a big fire, sir; they do say it's at the Hall
below. Poor creatures! I hope they'll all escape. All
right, sir? »
I replied in the affirmative. He let go the painter,
and with two vigorous strokes of the light sculls I was
in the stream. Fortunately I knew almost every turn
and bend of the fine river, or I should have more
than once had a very narrow escape, if I had not been
quickly upset. It is all very well to row in day-light,
but in the gloom, when the banks and the water
alongside are equally shrouded, so that where one
begins and the other ends is an extremely difficult
problem to solve, and snags and submerged shoals are
quite invisible, the pulling down a rapid stream alone
is no joke. But I did not mind it then. Urged by
a reckless daring, I sculled rapidly on alone.
Alone, all but for the company of two good planks.
Whence came they, and whither they were bound, I
did not think; but I noticed they kept close to me-
now swirling away, now in the dim light meeting, then
dividing, turning round, separating themselves, and soon
enclosing my sculls, so as to impede my way and
endanger my safety. They hugged me so closely at
last that I lay on my oars, and clutching the intrusive
boards pulled them into the boat, where, under the
thwarts, they exchanged dripping confidences as to
THROUGH FLOOD-THROUGH FIRE.
15
what they would do next. What they did shall be
told in due course.
"Such great effects from trivial causes spring."
The blazing house was now almost visible. The
reflection was caught by the water just beyond me.
On I scudded round the bend of the bank, the stream
hurrying me down, and now I have opened up the
town reach, and the burning and half-demolished
building is crackling and roaring half a mile off.
The smoke, dotted with a million sparks, flies up to
heaven, while screams and cries and the roar of fall-
ing timbers ascend with them to the lurid sky. Those
tiny jets of water only serve to aggravate the thirst in
that fiery throat, and not to quench it; no man can live
near such a fire as that; the heat even in my gig was
soon felt distinctly, and the two planks beneath my feet
winked to each other in the glare, and glistened side
by side at the thought of what was coming.
A yell, a roar ! Four people had got upon the crum-
bling parapet, some feet above the stable-roofs, and were
crying and shrieking for assistance. Twenty men at
once rushed in to offer ropes and help. What could they
do? The unhappy inmates, clad in evening dress,
looked weird and unearthly in the fiery glare. One was
a lady, three were men. Taking off their coats, they
knotted them by the sleeves, and let down the lady
to the lower roof in safety. Such a cheer arose for this.
Well done, brave men, well done! British chivalry
is not yet dead when Englishmen and Irishmen can act
like this. I watched and waited; pulling in, the heat
was great. I pulled away to the opposite wing, abut-
3
16
THROUGH FLOOD-THROUGH FIRE.
ting on the river, now almost wholly clad in flame
and smoke, but still itself unburning.
What is that? Can it be a man or woman kneeling
there, and unobserved amid the shrouding smoke by all
the rest, who are gazing at the gallant men around the
stables? The soldiers had arrived, and were doing good
service; but no one else perceived the solitary form
wrapped in an Ulster coat, and trembling on the wall
above the river.
Not a moment was to be lost. I pulled in hastily.
"Leap," I shouted, "leap!" As I spoke I rose up
in the boat. The planks winked once more and rattled.
"Jump!" I yelled in my excitement.
One look to heaven-a glance down to the swiftly rur-
ning river, and the person I addressed leaped feet first.
Unthinkingly, I moved suddenly; the light gig rocked.
In vain I attempted to recover my balance; the boat
tipped over, and I fell headlong into the water, now
covered with débris.
The two planks started after me together from beneath
the thwarts.
I sank; and as I did so I thought of Rosie, and made
up my mind to die, if I must, but I struggled manfully
for life the while.
*
*
*
*
*
*
When one is unwillingly under water the brain seems
to become busier than at all other times. I know not why,
but in that half-minute or so that I was underneath I
saw many acts of my life. Circumstances looked, from
my mental point of view, very different from what they
had to my bodily eyes. I had plenty of time to repent
..of my rashness, to utter a prayer, and to forgive my
THROUGH FLOOD-THROUGH FIRE.
17
1
enemies; and then I struggled, knocked my head, half
sank again, put out my right arm and grasped some-
thing. It was a plank.
Seeing a body rising up close by, I raised the
head. The person I had tried to save was sensible,
evidently.
I was delighted to find that he too was floating on
a plank, the twin supporter of my arm; and how those
good friends tossed about, and drove up against each
other in sheer delight, as we all floated away fast down-
stream together, baffles description.
I impelled my plank towards the other, and, no
doubt aided by that wondrous law of attraction and
sympathy which exists even in wood, I succeeded in
getting close to my companion. Leaning my arms.
upon the trusty plank, I managed to support the form
near me; but all this time we neither of us spoke a
word, nor could we discern each other's features. The
fast subsiding fire was far behind us now.
The steady planks kept floating with us towards the
bank, but I was not very anxious to go ashore just then,
as the river-sides were steep, and certain curling eddies
did not look attractive.
The moon had been obscured by heavy clouds; but
we could discern the stones which here and there rose up
from out the water, from a shoal in mid-stream. We
should soon be in safety.
be in safety. The planks apparently
thought otherwise. They bobbed about and grew very
impatient to reach the shore.
There's distant thunder! A storm is coming up.
No, it must be a train passing the bridge above. No;
the noise increases! the sound is borne continuously
B
18
THROUGH FLOOD-THROUGH FIRE.
on the wind. The planks got very restless now. The
banks even came closer to us, but the stream ran all
the faster. The noise was getting louder every
minute.
knew what it was at last. I knew too well. It
was the Mill Weir!
If the sluice were open to the huge over-shot wheel
our doom was sealed. Nothing much short of a miracle
could save us. Striking out for the bank, I called to
my companion to do the same, but encumbered with
the Ulster coat his progress was not great.
We would find footing on the lasher, probably; the
eddy would assist us.
We floated round the turn in the stream. The wheel
was revolving. I could plainly hear the splash, splash
of its monotonous clank and dash: the water dripped and
ran away from the grinding woodwork, and gladly
escaped beneath to save being crushed to air on the top
of those mighty paddles.
We had two channels to choose from-one over the
weir, the other beneath the wheel. The suction to the
latter was tremendous. I swam strongly for the former.
I reached the slippery piles and caught them. A bright
light was burning in a small window in the mill, twenty
yards or so away. We were in an eddy for a moment.
I called out loudly. A head was put out: I yelled
again. The plank whereon I lay slipped from beneath
me, rose up again, and carried me headlong down the
foaming lasher like an arrow from a bow, while my
companion was wrenched away and darted for the wheel.
A loud cry escaped me as we parted. All was over now.
Death at last. "Oh, Rosie! my darling Rosie; till we

"LEAP," I SHOUTED, 'LEAP!"-(See p. 16.)
44
……………
…………..
CA
****
•
1
THROUGH FLOOD-THROUGH FIRE.
21
meet in heaven--farewell!”
much-no more.
*
*
*
I had time to think so
*
""
"He's all right; don't you lubbers keep around like
that; sheer off, can't ye? Let a chap have a mouth-
ful of air! Hurrah, yer sowls! he's breathin'!
He was. It was I. But how weak, how very ill,
mentally and bodily, I felt when first I woke again
to life and asked for "Rosie!"
"Shure he's wanderin' in his mind, so he is. Dinny,
run up and tell the captain the gintleman's alive.
Hurry now."
I remember nothing more until I found myself in
barracks in my brother's quarters. Then I suppose I
fell asleep. But when I again awoke to consciousness,
they told me in muffled tones that I had only just
pulled through brain fever, and had been in bed nearly
five weeks.
W
Five weeks! I was due in London! I told the doctor
so, or somebody spoke for me-at least, the voice was
not like my own.
"Indeed, then, it's out o' this ye don't stir, me lad,
lawyers or no lawyers. Quiet now, or I'll give ye a
composer, and send ye to sleep for another month!"
I submitted, and got better. In a fortnight I was down
again in the ante-room, where I was welcomed as a
"hero of romance." The good-natured quizzing and
congratulations on my recovery were incessant. At last
noticing my puzzled look, my brother said-
"Perhaps he hasn't heard the real facts-have you,
H---?"
"I have not the very slightest idea what you all are
22
THROUGH FLOOD-THROUGH FIRE.
talking about," I replied. "If it's a joke, I don't
see it."
"Now look, here she is again! Lucky fellow!"
"Not a day but what she rides over to inquire."
"Her father's here, too.
""
"Tell them to come in, Hamblyn, and see the preserver
of the sole daughter of his house and heart.” ”
6
I heard, but scarcely heeded, all this chaff.
The door opened, a lady in well-fitting habit appeared.
Mechanically I rose as she came in. I looked at her
for one brief second, the next I had clasped her in my
arms.
"Rosie, my darling Rosie, can it be you indeed?"
No doubt about it. She had come to thank me. For
what? For saving her life that night when Sir John
Carney's house was burnt.
It was Rosie I had rescued then. No wonder my
heart had beat so fast while we floated down the stream.
Rosie was my own at last. She is mine still, thank
Heaven!
Very little explanation is necessary. Mrs. Temple
and her daughter had been paying a round of visits,
and whilst staying at Sir John Carney's house the fire
had broken out. Rosie had been my companion during
that twenty minutes in the water. Wrapped up as she
was, and silent as we both were, we did not recognise each
other in the dark. The miller had stopped the wheel
and pulled Rosie out of the eddy just in time. For a day
or two Rosie had been quite unable to give an account
of her rescue from the fire; and when her father arrived,
in obedience to a telegram, he learnt at the barracks
-where he had called with Sir John to thank the
THROUGH FLOOD-THROUGH FIRE.
23
commanding officer for his timely assistance that his
daughter's preserver was myself.
The reader will almost guess the sequel. Soon after
my return to London I was appointed secretary of a
nice little company, with a nice little salary, and work
to match, all through the influence of the good solicitor.
This employment left me leisure for other work which I
was lucky enough to obtain, and my success emboldened
me to ask for Rosie once more.
This time I was not refused. We were married the
year following; and now, when we wander "over hill, over
dale,” we often recall how we struggled together for life
that memorable night, "through flood-through fire."
HENRY FRITH,
שנה
•


THE JET-HUNTER'S STORY.
A Pomeranian Family-Gretchen-Peter Streel-Temptation—An Old
Jet-Hunter-A Change of Life-Searching for Jet-Gretchen's Fears-
A Fight with Custom House Officers-Death of Gretchen-In the
Prison Infirmary-Pardoned by the Government.

E'LL never live through it,
the dear, kind father, never!
The wrench of parting with home
and friends is too much for one
like him, stricken in years. He
talks bravely enough of America
and the new life that lies before
us all; but his heart is all the
while in Wollin, where the wind
whistles about the gables of the
old farmhouse, and where my
mother sleeps, too, beneath the
the white headstone in the churchyard, where lie so
many of our kindred. It's an old name, here in
Pomerania, is that of Holt, and always was it mentioned
with respect, by high and low, until-until-"
66
H
Then Gretchen's voice was choked with sobs, and she
could say no more, while I, passing my arm around her
slender waist, bent over her and did my best to console
her, though sorely at a loss for reasonable grounds of
hope. It was a grand and yet a peaceful scene that lay
THE JET-HUNTER'S STORY.
25
before us, as we stood side by side upon the sandy
beach, and looked forth over the glittering waters of
the Baltic, now smooth as the surface of a summer lake,
and at the red sun setting behind the distant cliffs of
the island of Rugen. Let me explain how I, an English-
man born and bred--William Morgan by name-came
to find myself in so-out-of-the-way a nook as the tiny
Isle of Wollin, which lies close to the south-western
coast of Pomerania, and the accepted suitor of Gretchen,
or Margaret, Holt.
For three or four years I had been a clerk in a
mercantile house at Dantzic, and having a natural
aptitude for foreign tongues, had learned so much, not
merely of Low German, but that strange Wendish
tongue which yet lingers among the peasantry of the
seaboard, descendants of the old Vandals, that I was
often despatched on long journeys in quest of hides,
feathers, and other productions of that vast sandy plain
which composes the most northerly part of Prussia.
In the course of one of these expeditions I had made
the acquaintance of a Pomeranian farmer named Holt,
a yeoman, whose quaint old house was pleasantly situ-
ated on the coast, and had learned to love his only
daughter, pretty Gretchen, and to teach her also to
love me.
The Holts had dwelt for centuries in tolerable comfort
on their ancestral acres, eking out the produce of the
sterile soil by a little trading at sea-for most of the
natives of that district are in a manner amphibious-
but misfortunes had overtaken them.
In an evil hour Karl Holt had been persuaded to
become a partner in a mushroom bank, which some
26
THE JET-HUNTER'S STORY.
shrewd knaves in Berlin had set on foot; and when
the crash came he could only redeem his credit by
heavily mortgaging, not merely his land, but his good
coasting sloop as well. The holder of the mortgages
was a hard man, a local usurer, who had come with
his money-bags from the Judengasse of Frankfort, to
fatten on the improvidence of the simple northern
folks; and Herr Schmerling, who inhabited the town
of Wollin, capital of the little island, made no secret
of his intention to expropriate his debtor if the cash
were not paid down on the appointed day.
It was all very well for Holt's three sons--strong,
unimaginative young men, to whose hands the tiller
came as naturally as the plough-stilts—to look forward
to emigration and a fresh start on the other side of the
Atlantic; but Gretchen was miserable at the prospect
of being driven forth from the home of her childhood,
while to the farmer himself this unwelcome exile appeared
as little better than a sentence of death. He was
linked to Pomerania by a hundred ties, habits, and
associations; and since the notice of foreclosure had
been given, every day seemed to add a line to those
that furrowed his broad brow.
"You are very good to me, Willie dear!" said poor
Gretchen, as I kissed away her tears (I had taught
her, with some difficulty, the English pronunciation
of my name): "but what can you do? My brothers
are strong and hard-working, but it is not possible to
raise the sum which Herr Schmerling demands by
Michael's Mass Day, unless indeed we could turn
these barren sands into silver rixdollars."
These last words of my poor pretty Margaret were
THE JET-HUNTER'S STORY.
27
overheard, as I have reason to believe, by a lame old
fisherman, who sat beside a sandy, rush-grown hillock
close to the shattered hull of a boat upside down,
smoking his pipe. We had come upon him without
observing him, until we almost touched him, and as
he twitched his striped nightcap in answer to our
"Good evening, Herr Peter," he grinned in an odd
manner, as a remarkably intelligent and elderly ape
might have done.
"I only half like that old Peter Streel. Some say
he is a wizard," said Margaret, in a low voice, as we
walked on.
I made some careless reply, and soon afterwards we
parted, Margaret to return to the farmhouse on the
downs, and I to stroll back to my lodgings in a
village that lay a mile or two inland. Mechanically
I turned, on a rising ground that commanded a
view of the low coast-line and the glimmering Baltic,
to look back at the rippling waters, when at my
elbow a voice croaked out—
"Turn yellow sand into shining white thalers, eh?
-or better still, into golden double Fredericks—that,
Englander, would be a secret worth the knowing! Yet
there's hard cash, gold and silver, to be got from the
sand, too, by those who look aright."
Puzzled by this singular form of address, I glanced at
the lame fisherman, who had somehow managed to
approach me without making the slightest noise. He
was a little old fellow, dry and withered, with dark eyes
that flashed from beneath his shaggy white eye-brows,
and an indefinable expression, half malicious, half of
quaint humour, lurking about the corners of his
28
THE JET-HUNTER'S STORY.
mouth. I suppose I betrayed the annoyance which I
felt, for he added rapidly-
K
"I do not jest. 'Tis a pity that honest farmer
Holt should be turned out of house and home for want
of the wherewithal to pay off yonder Jewish money-
lender. Pity, too, to see the tears in Fräulein
Margaret's blue eyes. You, Herr, would stave off ruin
from Karl Holt's family, if you could?"
"Indeed I would !" I replied very earnestly-my
betrothal to Gretchen, like her father's financial dis-
asters, was no mystery in Wollin, a primitive place,
where no one took it in ill part that his neighbours
should interest themselves in his affairs-" Indeed I
would! But a mere clerk in Flynn and Rothwasser's
counting-house, with nothing but his salary to depend
upon, is no capitalist, Herr Streel.”
"Do you know what this is?" asked Streel, abruptly,
as he drew from his pocket a lump of something
yellow, and a smaller lump of something white, and
thrust both into my hand.
"Of course I do, even by this dim light," I answered,
after a momentary inspection of the two lumps. "This
is the coarser quality of amber, and this the fine white
sort, which the Turks prize so highly for the mouthpieces
of their jewelled chibouks. But I thought that in
Prussia the gathering of amber was a strict Govern-
ment monopoly, and-"
"What do you call this?" demanded
demanded the lame
fisher, as he handed me a smooth, glistening, black
object of irregular shape.
“Jet, and a fine piece too, " I answered, "the glean-
ing of which, without royal licence, is, I believe--"
THE JET-HUNTER'S STORY.
29
"Boy!" broke in the old Wend savagely, "our
masters at Berlin would tax the blessed sunshine, and
levy a stiver or a pfenning on every breath of God's
air that we drew, if they could. When I was a child,
jet and amber were as free to the finder, on our
Pomeranian coast here, as air and sunshine yet are.
Now the Government leases out so many leagues of the
shore to this or that sly hunks, and the lessee hires
poor starvelings to scrape up what they can beside the
estuaries, or where a storm has bared the layers below.
I know a better way than that. But stop! You're
not one of us. An Englander's word may be trusted.
If you won't join, you'll not betray us?"
I readily gave the required promise, and then
Peter Streel spoke out. He was, it seemed, the
descendant of a line of jet-hunters, intimately
acquainted with every nook of the coast both
of isle and mainland, and versed in traditional
knowledge which enabled him to judge of the likeliest
times and seasons for finding this precious fossil in its
hiding-place of sand. Having no sons to aid him in
his search, he had associated himself with several young
men of the island of Wollin, he being the acknowledged
hauptmann," or chief. The exploring for jet and
amber was necessarily a nocturnal task, on account of
the need for eluding the vigilance of the Prussian
“douaniers,” but that it was profitable he gave me the
most emphatic assurance.
66
"I've a granddaughter at school at Stettin," he said
proudly, but with eyes that moistened and softened as
he spoke "at a school where the Fräuleins of lords
are brought up, if you please, and she wears silks and
30
THE JET-HUNTER'S STORY.
laces, and learns music and French, and does not dabble
her little fingers in herring-scales, or run with brown
bare feet over the wet sand, as her mother had to do.
Gertrude's dowry-and she shall have a dowry that will
get her a gentleman-husband-must all come out of jet,
and already there's a tidy lot of dollars laid up in the
bank at Cöslin. But I see the question on the tip of
your tongue, Herr-why I want you among us—and
I'll be frank in replying to it."
Peter Streel's reason for wishing me to join the jet-
hunters was simply that he thought he had found in
me a better medium for disposing of the produce of his
nightly hunts than any that had hitherto lain within
his reach. He and his confederates had been obliged
till then to sell their jet, gathered with much toil and
peril, to hawkers and petty traffickers of dubious repute,
and at a considerable sacrifice. Now, I was a foreigner,
and educated, and my manners and address would enable
me, without exciting suspicion, to enter into commercial
relations with dealers of a higher stamp, and to obtain
a fair market price for the raw material.
The desire of saving my Margaret's kind father from
ruin and exile was too strong for my scruples, and after
repeated conferences with Peter Streel and his comrades,
I returned to the city of Dantzic, and after giving an
account of my late mission on the firm's behalf, astonished
all my friends by resigning my desk in the offices of
Messrs. Flynn and Rothwasser, and by returning to
Wollin, where I now became a resident.
I had some
small savings, enough in that cheap place to maintain
me for a time, while I let it be understood, to avoid
inconvenient curiosity, that I was in expectation of
THE JET-HUNTER'S STORY.
31
an appointment, better paid than my late one, at
Hamburg.
In the meantime I was allowed to saunter about, with
gun and sketch book, as I pleased.
In the matter of the marine treasures of which I was
in quest, I was not an absolute novice. Sometimes
when a boy, on the coast of my native Norfolk, I had
spent hours in the company of a party of jet-hunters,
whose industry, in England perfectly lawful, partakes
in some degree of the uncertainty and excitement of
gambling. Often, as I knew, months would elapse with-
out the discovery of jet to the value of more than a few
pence, but after tedious delay some lucky hit would
yield the means of perhaps half-a-year's subsistence to
the seekers. And the Baltic coast gives a far superior
harvest of jet and amber to any which is to be reaped
on our own eastern shores, while agates and cornelians
are occasionally to be met with in proximity to the
fossil deposits.
Wild work it was, the actual gathering of the jet, for
moonless nights and stormy weather were usually selected
for the expeditions, partly because of the facility thus
afforded of eluding the vigilance of the Prussian coast-
guard, and partly because the great waves, sweeping
away the upper layers of loose sand, rendered it easier
to espy the buried treasure below. Peter Streel really
did seem to have a beagle's scent for the places where
the smooth black nodules, or the more valuable "pockets
of lump amber lay. Sometimes the gleam of a tiny
black speck would guide us to a stratum worth, at the
lowest calculation, forty or fifty pounds in English
money; but more often, after hours of digging and
""
32
THE JET-HUNTER'S STORY.
groping, and perhaps some risk of being smothered in
a quicksand or overtaken by the tide, we met with
thorough disappointment, and went home wet, weary,
and baffled.
Gretchen, who knew my secret, was divided between
fears for my safety, since at any time the Prussian officials
might discover our proceedings, and the hope, which now
began to rise high in her heart, that the old farm,
with all its associations, need not pass away from the
race that had so long owned it, and that her father
might yet pass the evening of his days in comfort
among the familiar scenes of his youth. A large
quantity of jet, as well as much amber, and a few
agates, had been already accumulated, and lay concealed,
in chest and locker, in Streel's cottage. It had been
determined that, when the store should be increased to
a certain amount, I should proceed to Berlin itself,
and there seek out a purchaser for the whole.
"I suppose it is because I am but a girl, Willie,
and fanciful," said Gretchen Holt one day to me-
and though she tried to smile, her voice trembled,
and tears rose to her eyes-"but I could find it in
my heart to wish, my own one, that you had never
entered, for my sake, on this perilous career. That
old man, Streel, he seems kind, and I think he likes you,
but they do say he and his are unlucky and weird
folk, ever going to become rich, always coming to
sorrow, somehow, as though they had sold themselves to
the fiend, who cheats them that bargain with him.”
But I laughed at Margaret's fears.
"Silly puss!" I said. "A week, at most, if the
good fortune lasts, will see the end of my jet-hunting,
THE JET HUNTER'S STORY.
33
for then I shall start for Berlin, and it will go hard
if my share, when the profits are divided, is not enough
to clear your father of every debt on house and land
and ship, and leave us over a good three hundred
rixdollars to marry upon. I can always get a clerk's
place, you know, here in North Germany, with my
testimonials and fluency in the language.
""
And then we talked of ourselves, and our mutual love,
and the rose-coloured prospects before us, as young
people will, and Margaret's fears were forgotten. But,
as I crossed the downs on my homeward route, I
was surprised to see Herr Schmerling, the Hebrew
usurer from Frankfort, talking to a ragged bare-
footed beggar lad, whom I knew well, and who often
acted as scout or messenger for my confederates. This,
too, I forgot, and it was with a light heart that I
sallied out at ten o'clock, by the feeble light of the
sickle-moon, to cross the sands towards Swinmunde
Creek, where our next venture was to be made. We
were, in all, eleven men, all young and active, with the
exception of Peter Streel, and on reaching the spot
selected by the old man's practised skill, we began
to dig, working and resting, by threes and fours.
"Captain!" exclaimed one of the men,
"here's
some one running towards us from the downs-a
woman!
""
True enough, by the dim, wan moonlight, a female
form came hurrying, in breathless haste, across the
yellow sands. The figure approached. It was within
thirty yards of us.
"Halt! Bewarr, or, in the King's name, and the
law's-Ha!" called out a menacing voice, as a group of
с
34
THE JET-HUNTER'S STORY.
armed men, in the well-known greyish-blue uniform
of the Custom House, rushed forth from their lurking-
place among the sand-hills.
"Yield yourselves, rogues,
to the Königlicher Beamten!" And three shots were
immediately fired. A piercing shriek answered them,
and the girl, as her slender form denoted her, who had
been running towards us, staggered, pressed her hand to
her side, and fell. I made but one bound, so it seemed,
to the spot where she lay. Her white face was upturned,
and I knew it but too well. It was Gretchen-my own
Gretchen-mortally hurt, as one despairing glance told
me, for the blood was pouring fast from the gun-shot
wound in her side, and reddening the smooth sand.
"Fly, Willie, fly!" she gasped out feebly; "the
Prussians a spy-Herr Schmerling-they came to our
house—and—I came to warn, but
Her voice died away, as I knelt beside her, wild with
grief, and scarcely aware that fresh shots had been
fired, and that my companions were engaged in a fierce.
but fruitless scuffle with the douaniers. Margaret
seemed to know me, as I bent over her, vainly trying to
staunch the blood that flowed from her side, for twice
her cold lips returned my kiss, and her dear, innocent
blue eyes looked on me with love and fondness to the
last. And then, as I rose to my feet, the butt-end of
a Prussian carbine fell with crashing weight on my bare
head, and I dropped like a stone at the feet of my
assailant. I awoke, in the prison infirmary, from what
seemed to be a long and dismal dream, but which had,
I learned, been an illness that had lasted for weeks.
""
"You are so far fortunate, Englishman," said the
gruff director of the prison," that your nationality has
THE JET-HUNTER'S STORY.
35
caused your consul to interest himself in your behalf, and
that the Government, in its clemency, will inflict on you
no further punishment, on condition that you cross the
Prussian frontier as soon as you are certified able to travel.”
"And Margaret-Gretchen?" I cried out, almost in
a shriek, as memory came back to me and showed me
all my wretchedness. Hard as he was, the cast-iron
face of the old officer showed some little sign of emo-
tion. He shook his head, sadly, pityingly, as I thought,
and left the room without a word.
Margaret had been buried, weeks before, beside her
mother in the village churchyard; and before I was
released from prison, the old yeoman and his sons had
given up their farm and sailed for America.
I returned to England, and there found employment,
and worked steadfastly, and was not, I hope, quite a
useless member of the community. But there was
something gone out of the world that no lapse of time
could replace, and my life has been lonely, and my
hearth solitary, for lost Gretchen's sake. Few would
deem that the quiet old bachelor, who shuns society,
has in his memory a reason so cogent for the sadness
that has become with him a second nature.
JOHN BERWICK HARWOOD.

28

THE GREAT GOLD SECRET.
CHAPTER I.
A Gold Digger's Story-Grey in a Week-Seth Hickman-A Golden
Secret-Up the Andes-Lake Titicaca-A Big "Find "-The Start for
Home.
"T
'M a gold digger-that's about what
I am.
You wouldn't take me for
an Englishman--would you now? No,
nor yet any one else that knows me;
but I am though.
How old, about, should you take me
for? Fifty-five, eh? Well, they all guess
somewhere near that; but I'm just thirty-
seven last month. I dare say you don't
believe it; and perhaps you wouldn't be-
lieve it either, if I told you that all this
wrinkling and turning grey was done in
one week. Well, it was, and when I
think over it all now, and think that
here I am, alive after it all, I can hardly believe it my-
self. Would you like to hear about it? Well, sit down
and make yourself comfortable, and I'll tell you.
hi
It's nine years ago last Valentine's Day (I remember

Mis
A
THE GREAT GOLD SECRET.
37
all the dates well enough, I warrant ye) that I was at
'Frisco with a Yankee, name of Seth Hickman. We'd
met down in Denver, and stood by each other in a row
that happened there, and of course that drew us together a
bit; and the end of it was, we agreed to go prospecting
together, and "share and share alike."
Seth was a sharp fellow, and knew all the likeliest
spots; and I could do a day's work with any man in
those days, though I ain't much to brag of now; and
the end of it was, we made a pretty good haul.
When we got to 'Frisco, I thought of nothing but
banking some of the stuff for a rainy day, and having
a spree with the rest, and then starting off again; but
Seth didn't seem to see it at all. I noticed that he
looked serious-like, as if he had something on his mind,
for the first two days after we got into town; and on
the second evening, as we were sitting over our grog,
he spoke out.
"Jim, old hoss, I'm a-gwine to tell yew something
that nary soul in creation knows about but myself; for
if yew hadn't been some smart with your Derringer when
them three skunks went for me down in Denver they
might ha' wrote 'Gone up' over this child; and no man
ever did Seth Hickman a good turn, or a bad turn
neither, but what he got cocoa-nut for yam [tit for tat,]
yew bet yure life on that!
"When I was in Arica last year, I went up country
a bit with my rifle, and thar I happened on an old
Injin critter, as old as George Washington's nurse,
livin' in a hut all by himself among the spurs o' the
Andes, and I camped in his hut for the night.
"Wal, the aguardiente [whiskey] in my flask war a
38
THE GREAT GOLD SECRET.
leetle tew strong for him, and he got reg'lar slewed; and
when his tongue got loosened by the licker, he kim
out wi' sitch a yarn as whipped everything in Prescott
all to fits. He said that when the Peruvian chiefs
stampeded from Cuzco a'ter Pizarro took it, a lot on
'em got up among the mountains, carrying their gold
with 'em, till they kim out on the plateau of Lake
Titicaca; and thar, findin' the Spaniards close on their
trail, they chucked all the gold into the lake, and
skedaddled nobody knows where. And he said that if
anybody took the trail from his hut, north and by
east, till they hit the southern end of the lake, and
then looked out for a big three-cornered rock like a
pyramid upside down, they'd jest got to scoop in the
mud of the lake whar that rock's shadow fell on it at
sunrise, and they'd find 'nuff gold to buy up all Wall
Street. Now, we've got money enough to put that job
through, and if yew feel like tryin' it, I'm in."
I said "done" at once, and we got our money
together, and slipped down the coast to Arica as fast as
the Pacific steamer could carry us.
The minute we got
there, Seth went off into the hills to try and get hold
of his old Indian for a guide, while I hunted about for
workmen--for this was a job that needed more hands
than our own. At last I got hold of two Spaniards-
two sturdy fellows they were, and honest enough as
Spaniards go-and then a Portigee and two niggers
We weren't long of buying our stores and working
tackle, and by the time Seth came back with his guide,
all was ready, and away we went.
Seth was much too knowing a bird to let on what
his real game was, as long as we were within hail of the
THE GREAT GOLD SECRET.
39
town, for if you say "gold" there only in a whisper,
those blessed Gambusinos [gold finders] will hear it a
hundred miles off. So all that we told our gang was,
that we were going prospecting among the lower ranges,
as lots of fellows did every day; but when we were past
the old Indian's hut, and well up among the hills, so
that our chaps couldn't easily turn back if they wanted,
he up and told them the whole story. They were
rather taken aback, as well they might be, for Lake
Titicaca's a good many days' journey to the nor'-east,
among some very awkward mountains, and a good
thirteen thousand feet above the sea, if it's an inch.
However, a Spaniard (or any other man, for that
matter) will go pretty nearly anywhere if he once gets on
the scent of gold; so our fellows they spoke up stoutly
enough, and said they were ready to go up to the lake,
and down to the bottom of it into the bargain, after
such a haul as that; and off we set again.
I've seen a good many wonders in my time, knocking
about the world as I've done; but anything like that
climb up the Andes I never saw yet. Rocks that
seemed to go up into the very sky, straight as a plumb-
line; beds of moss three or four feet deep, and soft as
a velvet cushion; trees two hundred feet high, all one
blaze of flowers from top to bottom; leaves big enough
to wrap you up like a blanket ; tree-ferns big as a table-
cloth, all glittering like the finest silver lace; humming-
birds, and monkeys, and parrots, and butterflies as
broad as the palm of your hand; waterfalls sheer down
over great black precipices a thousand feet high; and,
far away behind, the everlasting mountains, piled one
above another, till they seemed to go right up to
40
THE GREAT GOLD SECRET.
heaven. Among all these enormous things we eight
men, big and strong as we were, seemed of no more
account than a lot of ants crawling on a blade of grass;
and I think I never felt so small in my life as I did then.
However, I hadn't much leisure to think about it at
the time, for you can't expect a fellow to have much
of an eye for scenery when he's hacking his way
through a great cobweb of branches too thick for the
light to get through, with his boots full of ants, and
his mouth full of gnats, and the damp vapour-bath
heat of the woods melting him away bit by bit, fifty
prickles going into him at once, a thorn-bush scalping him
from above, and a creeper tripping him up, down below.
And so we hammered along, till at last we worked up
to the plateau, and saw the great lake spreading away
before us, as far as ever we could see.
We weren't long
of making out the three-cornered crag, nor the shadow
neither, for it was just sunrise when we got there, as
if o' purpose for us; and once we'd made it out, we
hardly waited to take breath before we were at it
tooth and nail.
The first day was a regular blank one till just towards
sundown, and then the Portigee screeched out sud-
denly that he'd got something heavy. I helped him
to haul up the pan, and there, sure enough, was a bar
of gold over a foot long, and pretty nigh as thick as my
two fingers here. At that we all shouted at once, and
went at it harder than ever; and I really think our
chaps would have worked all night, but Seth stopped
'em. He told 'em that the gold wouldn't run away,
and that if they put on too much steam at first, they'd
just knock themselves up before they were half through;
THE GREAT GOLD SECRET.
41
and that they'd better just light a fire and get dried,
and have some supper, and fix up some kind of shelter
against the dew, and then start fair next morning.
And so they did.
The next day, and the next, and the next after that,
we kept bringing it up in handfuls-gold circlets, and
chains, and necklaces, and ingots without end. But on
the fifth day I found the provisions getting so low that
I was rather scared; for up here there was no game of
any sort, there being no vegetation at that height for
the game to live on. So we held a council of war.
Our chaps had got the gold-fever so into their blood
by this time, that I verily believe they'd have kept
digging on till they died of hunger; but Seth and I,
who were a little cooler, talked them over at last.
He told 'em that we'd got enough already to make us
all as rich as Jews; that we must all starve if we didn't
replenish our stock somehow; that ten to one the
"find" was played out (and, indeed, none of us had
taken a grain all that morning); and that, in any case,
the lake was always there, and they could come back
and try again whenever they liked. So, bit by bit, we
worked 'em round, and all started to go back together.
We'd hard work of it the first part of the way, one of
the Spaniards got a bad fall, and not one of us but had
his bruise to show. But at last we got over the barren
bit, and found ourselves fairly down among the woods
again; and then I began to be jolly, thinking this was
the end of it. But it wasn't-it was only the beginning.

CHAPTER II.
Suspicious Characters-A Rope of Creepers-A Ruse-Dangerous Work
-In the Ravine-A Dark Walk-The Party grows Smaller-Signs of
Civilisation-Death of the Guide-On the Trail-Lost in the Forest-
Only Two Left-Saved at Last.
"10
KANDALE
S
ONE
NE afternoon, when we'd
got well down among the
lower ranges, we were just look-
ing about for a place to camp
(for the Spaniard who had got
hurt was beginning to give up),
when one of the niggers said
suddenly-

"Señor, man watch us!"
I looked up, and there, sure
enough, was a man (a savage-
looking fellow enough, but evidently no Indian) watching
us from the top of a ridge a little to the left. He kept
looking after us for a little while, and then disappeared
as if the earth had swallowed him.
-
"When one has found a punkin-pie,
He goes and tells the t'others!'
"Don't like that," says Seth; "that critter's seen
that we carry a heavy swag, and he's gone to tell some
of his chums, you bet!
"I feel like campin' in a strong place to-night, I do !”
And so we did—with a deep cañon [gorge] behind us,
THE GREAT GOLD SECRET.
43
}
going sheer down nearly a hundred feet, and a thick
clump of trees in our front, that made splendid cover,
while beyond it the ground was smooth and level for a
good eighty yards, so that no living thing could come
near us without being seen and fired at.
Just as we'd lit our fire, and were beginning to cook,
we saw first one man, and then another, till we'd
counted fifteen in all, come zigzagging in and out of
the bushes, down the face of the opposite ridge. They
halted just at the edge of the thicket, and took a look
at the smoke of our fire rising above the trees; and
then two of them laid down their rifles, and were com-
ing across the clearing to us, looking as friendly as they
could, when old Seth shoves his head through the
leaves, and says in Spanish-
"Gentlemen, we're talking over a little business of
our own, and wish to be private, so you'll oblige us by
keeping your own side, and we'll keep ours; for we have
a way of shooting things that come too near us, and
we should be sorry to hit you by mistake!"
Back the two beauties went, looking as silly as a
ha'porth of treacle in a two-gallon jug; and Seth rubbed
his hands, and gave a chuckle.
"They'd got a bottle in each hand, them two," says
he; they war gwine to make us slewed, and then clean
out our swag; but they don't fool this child, nohow.
Naow, ye see, they'll wait till dark, and then go for us
with a rush-that's what's the matter with them-but
I guess we'll be not at home, when they call."
He whispered to me to cut down three or four of the
longest creepers, and twist them into a rope; and I,
guessing what he was up to, did it with a will. In a
44
THE GREAT GOLD SECRET.
few minutes we had a rope that would have stood any-
thing; and then I hitched one end round a tree, and
let drop the other down the ravine-the rest making a
great shouting and singing meanwhile, by way of a
blind. Then the old Indian (who was as nimble as a
cat) slid down to the bottom, and we lowered our packs
to him, one by one.
"That's all right," says Seth; "and now we'll just
take it easy till dark, and then take passage by this
new overland line of ourn."
But one don't take it very easy when there's a gang of
bloodthirsty rascals, twice your strength, and armed to
the teeth every man Jack of 'em, sitting waiting barely
eighty yards off to cut your throat; and I think I never
found any time yet go so slowly as those two last hours
before sundown.
"Naow," says Seth at last, when the darkness had
fairly closed in, "I guess we'll begin to leave.”
But just then, as if this had been a signal, there came
a flash and a bang from the other side of the clearing, and
half a dozen bullets came peppering in among the trees.
I felt something warm spurt over my hands, and the
nigger who stood beside me fell all of a heap. Like
lightning I up piece and let fly, and I heard somebody
give a yelp that sounded as if that letter had gone to
the right address. And then, for a few minutes, it was
just flash, flash! bang, bang! like a firework-Seth and
I keeping 'em in play while the rest slid down one by
And mighty ugly work it was too, I can tell you,
blazing away in the dark with nothing to aim at, and
hearing the bullets come rattling about you without
ever seeing who sent them. But the rope was soon clear,
one.
THE GREAT GOLD SECRET.
45
}
and then Seth stuck up the dead nigger against a
tree, with his gun across the fork of it, that they might
see the glint of the barrel, and think we were still on
the watch. Then he slid down, and I after him.
The first thing we did was to take the gold out of the
poor old nigger's pack, and part it among us. The rest
of the things we threw away, as we had thrown away our
tools long before (for our only chance now was to march
as light as possible), and then we set forward along the
gully. For some time we could hear the rascals banging
away overhead, but that died away by degrees, and there
was a silence as if the world had just been created, and
no life come into it yet.
All that night we stumbled along the bottom of the
ravine like men groping in a tunnel, sitting down every
now and then to rest; but when day came we saw the
rocks on each side getting lower and lower, and the
great black pit spreading out broader and shallower, till
at last, a little after sunrise, we came out into the forest
again. But just then the other nigger sat down, and
put his hand to his side.
"No can go farther, señor!
I ran up to him, and blest if he hadn't got a big
bullet-wound in his side from last night's skrimmage,
and the brave fellow had actually dragged on all night
without saying a word about it, lest he should keep us
back! I sat down and took his head on my knee, and
he died as quietly as a child; and we covered him
with leaves, and left him lying there in the bright
morning sunshine, and went forward on our weary tramp
again.
It was harder than ever for us now, for we had eight
+
""
46
THE GREAT GOLD SECRET.
loads among six men; and already I could see one of the
Spaniards beginning to stagger, and the old Indian
trembling like a leaf. Then a horrible kind of fear
crept over me, that we should keep on, dropping that way,
man after man, till there was only one left; and then
—but at that thought I threw up my arms and gave
a sort of yell, like a man starting up from a bad dream.
But Seth punched me in the ribs with his elbow, and
whispered-
"Sh! don't frighten the rest!"
And I set my teeth and choked it down.
It may have been an hour or two after this-I was
beginning to lose all count of time now-that Seth, who
had got a little ahead of the rest, suddenly sang out-
"Hurrah!
We all looked up.
ور
"Here's somethin' civilised at last, by hoe-cake!"
says he.
“Guess we've struck the right track without
knowing it. Look here!"
Just in front of us was a gully about forty feet deep,
through which ran a small stream, and across it lay a
bridge-not one of the rope-bridges you see in Lower
Peru, but good solid wood-two long beams from bank
to bank, with cross-pieces lashed to them, just like the
sleepers on a railway. Then we all shouted at once, and
stepped out to cross it; but, all in a moment, the poor old
Indian, who was one of the hindmost, lurched over the
edge, and went slap down into the water, and the gold
he carried just sank him like a stone. Whether he'd
got hurt in the fight too, or whether he was just tired
and dizzy like the rest of us, I can't say, but down
he went, and we never saw him more. So now we

"THE SAME BRIDGE THAT WE HAD CROSSED TWELVE HOURS BEFORE."-
(See p. 49.)
ས
1x
THE GREAT GOLD SECRET.
49
were cut down to five, and had lost our guide into the
bargain.
"That's a bad job," says Seth; "but never mind,
boys-we must jest steer by the light of natur' now.
Whar thar's a bridge like that, thar oughter be a trail
somewhar."
Sure enough there was a trail, and we tried to follow
it, but we soon lost it again, and tramped on all day at
haphazard, trying to steer by the sun.
Towards evening we halted to eat, and then pushed
on again hot foot; for that was the last of our provisions.
Just as the moon rose we came upon a gully with a
bridge across it; and there we all stopped dead, and
looked at each other—a look I shall never forget. It was
the same bridge that we had crossed twelve hours
before!
That minute's one of the things I never like to think
of. There we were, lost in a tropical forest, our guide
gone, every man of us as weak as a child, and not a
morsel of food left!
"Well, boys," says old Seth (who was our mainstay
throughout), "we're in a kind o' fix, thar ain't no denyin'
it. Naow, I calc'late this bridge ain't bin long built by
the look of it; and so, instead o' goin' losin' ourselves
outer everybody's way, I guess we'll jest stick here till
some party picks us up-it won't be long, I reckin.
That's my idee; how does it strike yew?"
We all agreed at once; and, indeed, we were too far
gone now for any more marching. So we sat down there
for three days, bearing it as well as we could, and trying
to shoot game between whiles. But our eyes were too
dim, and our hands too shaky, for that; and the birds
D
50
THE GREAT GOLD SECRET.
and monkeys scurried past, chattering and screaming as
if in mockery. And at last we couldn't keep it off
longer, and it came.
any
The Spaniards died first, and no wonder, poor fellows!
for though some of them are as brave men as ever stepped,
they haven't the pith and fibre of an Englishman. The
Portigee held out longer, for he had the heart of a lion ;
but at last he went too, and old Seth and I were left
alone.
"Seth," says I, "let's bury these poor fellows while
we can; for if they're left lying here, and our hunger
gets worse, we might be driven to-you know!"
So we wrapped the poor fellows in their blankets,
with a heavy stone in each, and rolled them over the
edge of the ravine down into the water. We buried the
gold too, and marked the spot, in case anything should
turn up to save us at the last; and then we lay down
again, as if we had nothing left to do but to die.
And after that everything seems blurred and hazy,
like an ugly dream. The trees, and the rocks, and the
sky semed to go round and round in a whirl; and old
Seth stood up as tall as a steeple, and great black things
came out of the bushes and made faces at me; and then
I was sitting under the old tree in the churchyard at
home and heard my old mother's voice (who's been
dead this five-and-twenty years) as plain as print; till
all at once there were men's faces and men's voices all
round us, and I felt somebody lifting my head, and
pouring something into my mouth, and then I fainted
right off
We had been picked up by a party coming back from
the mines, and they carried us down with them to Arica,
THE GREAT GOLD SECRET.
51
1
and when we got round again, we went back and dug up
the gold, and gave a lumping lot of it to the wives and
children of the poor fellows that had died for us.
But when I got back after that last week's work, my
hair was quite grey-as grey as you see it now.
that's all the story.
And
EBX
*
DAVID KER.

}

4 WijhbWled (added bakal tublida
SNOWED UP.
Two Friends-In Love-A Dinner Party-A Sudden Journey-A Wintry
Night-A Drift on the Line-Snowed up-Off the Track-Buried in
the Snow-A Bad Fall-In the Pullman Car-The Doctor explains
Matters-A Good Nurse-All's Well that Ends Well.
WS
興師
​KURT
MUTALÁ

"I
BELIEVE I am
the most unlucky
fellow in the world."
said Bertie Tyrrel, half
aloud, as he tied his
white tie.
"Why so, my dear
fellow?"
inquired a
cheery voice at the door.
Bertie turned, still
holding his chef-d'œuvre
at his throat, and said,
"Oh, Charley, is that
you! Come in; I shall
be ready in five minutes." Having arranged his tie to
his satisfaction, he repeated, "Yes; I believe I am the
most unlucky fellow in London, at any rate.”
"What's the matter?" inquired his friend.
"Well, you see," replied Bertie, "I've just had a letter
from my sister, saying that Miss Patterson is about to
leave Marchmont and proceed to the South of France.
SNOWED UP.
53
(Mother's not well, I believe.) You know I intended to
go down this week and put myself out of my pain.
Charley, I love that girl, and, Charley, I must marry her."
"Well!"
"But it is not well. Charles Fletcher, you are a
fish, a cold-blooded animal. How can you talk like
that when I am really, truly, and madly in love?"
"My dear Bertie, I should wait till the lady and
party come to London, and then see her and ascertain
your chance."
"They do not come to London, I believe; at least,
not to stay; so I am completely upset."
"It will all come right, old fellow. Are you ready?"
"Yes; it is time to be off. I do not feel at all
inclined to go, though," said Bertie mournfully.
A dinner-party was given by a Mrs. Arteman, in
whose husband's office Bertie Tyrrel was, or flattered
himself he was, a shining light. Mr. Arteman and
Bertie's family had been friendly for years, and the
young man was rapidy making his way to a junior
partnership. He had the credit of being very trust-
worthy and quick at business-qualities which he took
care to cultivate.
Many people came in the evening also, and just
before the carriages were announced, Mr. Arteman en-
tered the room and gazed anxiously round. For some
minutes he was unable to descry the object of his
quest, but at last found him out, and touching young
Tyrrel on the arm as he sat in a corner of the room,
beckoned him aside.
Hastily apologising to his fair companion, Bertie
rejoined Mr. Arteman in the empty dining-room.
54
SNOWED UP.
"Is anything the matter sir?" he asked.
"Yes Bertie, I am afraid there is. Read that."
Mr. Arteman put a telegram into his junior's hands
as he spoke.
"This looks serious," said Bertie as he returned
the paper. ""
What do you intend to do, sir? How
can we restore confidence in the Manchester office?"
"By sending you down," replied his chief, quietly.
"But to-morrow will be too late," said Bertie.
"Therefore you must go to-night, my lad."
To-night-go to Manchester to-night!" exclaimed
Tyrrel. "The thing's impossible!"
"Oh! dear, no," replied Mr. Arteman, coolly. "I
have had your bag packed already. I took the liberty
to send Collins to your lodgings for your morning
dress. I have a cab at the door. Here are ten pounds
in gold. Run up-stairs and change-take a. bit of
supper first though. The Pullman train from St.
Pancras starts at midnight."
"And it is now eleven," said Bertie, looking at his
watch. "What sort of a night is it, Collins?"
"Snows fast, sir,” replied the man.
"Snows, does it?" exclaimed Bertie. "Better fill
up the flask then, and put a half-dozen cigars in my
coat pocket-and, I say, Collins ? ""Yes, sir."
"Cut me a couple of ham sandwiches while I dress."
In fifteen minutes Bertie had received his last
instructions from Mr. Arteman, and was bowling along
the Euston Road to the Midland Station.
66
That immense terminus looked warm and comfortable
in comparison with the wet and chilly night outside.
The Pullman train was at the platform, ready to start.
SNOWED UP
55
There were very few passengers. Bertie took a sleeping-
car ticket, and without loss of time tucked himself up
comfortably in his berth. The train started soon after
this, and Bertie Tyrrel was rapidly whirled into the
land of dreams.
But his dreams were pleasant dreams, and if he had
not been conscious of the penetrating cold, he would
have enjoyed a good night's rest. He shivered and
awoke. The lamp was burning dimly. The steady
"whirr" of the fast-flying wheels told him that the
train was rushing still on through the stormy night.
Something fell on the lamp-there it was again. It
came in through the lattice over his bed. It was snow !
"Pleasant night!" thought our traveller. "I'll have
another nap."
Easier said than done. No efforts of his could induce
Somnus to pay him a second visit. The chill feeling he
had before experienced compelled him to put on all his
wraps. Then he got up, took a sip of brandy, and went
out upon the platform of the carriage to smoke.
Oh, the cold nipping wind, how it darted in between
the carriages! Bertie had to hold on to the hand-rail
tightly. But what a scene it was! A vast white sheet
had been spread o'er Nature's face and she lay as if dead
beneath it. Every now and then a gentle swell or un-
dulation in the surface looked like a heaving breast as
the fiery monster hurried past. The invisible flakes fell
thick and fast, and borne upon the angry blast the white
veil closed around them. They knew it not, but as
surely as the clouds were overhead, the mighty engine
was rushing into a trap laid by Winter, and the pure,
white, gentle flakes of soft snow.
56
SNOWED UP.
As the train flew along the track, little snow-storms
came up from all the wheels in clouds of powdered dust.
Bertie was fascinated. Past sleeping towns and villages,
past black chimneys rising into the murky sky from
white unsullied roofs, past close-shut windows 'neath
whose sashes the yielding but resistless snow wormed
itself like herring bones, and hung outside in slow-
dissolving flakes for King Frost to weld closer. Past
a huddled heap of humanity, beneath the shelter of
the embankment, on which the merciless though tender
falling winding-sheet was surely wrapped. Past all
these, and many more sights, did the Pullman carriage
rush and scream, and yet no stopping for the train.
But ten miles farther on the trap was laid. In a
deep cutting, the northern wind and drifting cloud con-
spired to do battle with the boasted power of man.
Lie
closer still, O drift! blow fiercer still, O wind! Ye wait
the daring monster who boasts he can outstrip the
wind, and rattle wildly o'er the snow-clad fields.
A roar through a tunnel-Bertie had once again turned
in the train emerged: it slackened speed: a long deep
whistle. The engine stopped dead short, and pushed
up a six-foot mound of snow, melting it for one brief
half-minute ; the water dashed at its enemy fire, and
hissed its vengeance in its burning ears. The fiery foe
collapsed, the mighty monster lay imbedded in the
drift, harmless as a fettered giant, but still noisy in its
protests.
Clouds of steam anxious to be free from that fatal
cutting rushed upwards and disappeared, or unable to
escape, fell in warm tear-drops on the virgin snow-
white carpet. The engineer let the boiler run empty,

"STRUGGLING AGAINST THE BLAST."-(See p. 60.)
!
***
1
J
1
>
SNOWED UP.
59
and sent his fireman back to the last station for assist-
ance. Man was powerless against the snow.
The soft, the gentle snow!
The passengers awoke, and shivering came one by one
out at the end platform of the train, asking questions
and not waiting for replies. No need to ask what was
the matter a second time. The helpless lighted train
glowed like a long lighthouse beneath the snow-clad
embankment. A bank in front, a tunnel behind
yawning darkly like an immense hole cut in white
paper, a biting wind and driving snow, told the tale
all too clearly.
SNOWED UP! Not a doubt of it. When could assist-
ance arrive? Were there any ladies in the train? No
ladies; only twenty-two travellers, and all men.
An hour passed. A scout who had gone ahead re-
ported the drift almost impassable even on foot, and
the wind at the end of the cutting rendered progress
highly dangerous. They must camp where they were
till day-light, at least. Better in the Pullman sleeping
car than upon the slopes of that fatal snow-drift, that
winter night.
But Bertie was due at his Manchester office at nine
o'clock that morning. It was now about a quarter to
four. He must get on, and he expressed his determina-
tion aloud to his fellow passengers.
"I will accompany you.-Where are we, guard?"
"Atween Ambergate and Matlock-but don't know
where though, gentlemen, exactly. Ask Ben."
"Ben," the engine-driver, informed them that they
were about an hour and a quarter's run from Manches
ter, and added a word of caution. But Bertie was
60
SNOWED UP.
determined to push on and, accompanied by two other
passengers, started on his venturous expedition.
Once out of the cutting they trusted to be free.
Surely the stoppage of the line would be telegraphed by
this time and, perhaps, a train in waiting to take them
on. So they stepped manfully out, sinking deeply at
every step, but still making progress.
The snow had ceased; the sky was clearing fast, and
frosty-looking stars peeped out to view the desolation.
The wind was bitterly cold. Every now and then the
snow would be dashed in their faces as by handfuls
caught up by spirit-fingers to obstruct their progress.
For awhile they kept side by side. Struggling
against the blast they pressed on till, unknowingly,
they mounted the side of the cutting, and wandered
far away across a level field, and over the distant hedge,
covered up with newly-fallen snow.
The sudden ease with which they stepped now had
the very opposite effect to what might reasonably have
been expected. They knew they had strayed. Where
was the railroad? They must regain it at any risk.
But the two older travellers determined to remain where
they were, sheltered comparatively behind the hedge,
in only a foot of snow, till daybreak. Bertie rashly made
up his mind to return in his tracks, which were plainly
discernible, and against the advice of his comrades he
acted upon his resolution.
His one idea was to reach Manchester. If he did not
succeed in averting the impending crash there, all his
prospects would be ruined. His hopes of ever winning
his lady-love would be completely shattered, and what
was life without love? He must succeed, though he
SNOWED UP.
61
perished in the attempt; he would do his duty, what-
ever happened.
So he manfully struggled on-at times up to his
knees in snow; once completely buried in the drift: he
fell down, down, until nothing but a small star was
visible overhead. The snow kept closing in. He breathed
hard upwards towards the hole. (His hands were fas-
tened to his sides by pressure of the drift.) By breath-
ing hard at the tiny hole it became larger and larger.
The snow melted, and he got a hand free. At length
he got his head out, and after a severe struggle he fell
forward, half-insensible from cold and nervous exhaus-
tion. He rolled over the harder snow for a space; down,
down-it seemed as if he would never stop-a hard
substance received him-a crash of glass, or ice, a
moment afterwards fell upon his half-unconscious ears,
and he lay insensible on the ground. A light was burn-
ing steadily over his head.
*
*
*
*
*
*
The spirit remained in the body, but the clay tene-
ment refused to acknowledge the presence of the master.
Sense lay wrapped within the brain and behind the
sullenly closed lids. Speech was there, but somehow it
could not force its way through the stubborn lips. The
ears were open to catch the slightest sound, and eagerly
they drank it in; but the shaken nerves refused to lis-
ten, or at best only grudgingly as yet.
And thus lay Bertie in a trance-dead, and yet alive;
ready to speak, dying to utter his thoughts, and yet
dying because his speech was locked; the pressure on
the brain was not yet unloosed, and Bertie lay there
almost as he fell, it semed to him.
62
SNOWED UP.
But yet things were curiously mixed up around him.
He could move his hands, and could feel he was ly-
ing upon soft cushions. Dull to his ears arose the sound
of those horrible whirring carriage-wheels. It seemed to
him as if he were back again in the railway carriage, en
route to Manchester.
Still people were about him. Feminine fingers
ministered to him-that gentle touch just now was very
different from the other tender finger-tips of some good
Samaritan, probably a doctor.
The subtle odour of a lady's presence clung sweetly
around Bertie as he lay sensible to what passed, but
unable to form a word, or look his thanks, or even
recognise the gentle care.
Once he essayed to open his eyes, and, oh! how the
vision of that one fair face he loved hung over his half-
conscious brows, and was for a second photographed upon
his brain! No-it was gone-a moment more and the
dull whirr of the revolving wheels, the even motion of
the Pullman car, all seemed to hold him in thrall as he
lay supine on the soft cushions.
But this could not last. By slow degrees the brain
resumed it's sway. He opened his eyes. Things were
very dim to him, and the cold, chill hand of Death
apparently was on him. He could not move his head,
but as he gazed with dull half-open eyes, the vision of
his love rose up to bid him welcome. Oh, lovely vision!
it came nearer and nearer-it would touch him! yes, it
bent down, and breathing a soft petition for his recovery,
vanished. Whirr-whirr—whirr !
Did he dream still? No; voices distinctly fell upon his
Where was he? A shrill whistle broke the mono-
ears.
SNOWED UP.
63
tonous sound: the undulating movement of the car he
had felt, or fancied, seemed to cease. "Hush!" some
one spoke. Bertie opened his eyes. He was dreaming
still.
He lay upon a cushioned berth in a
Pullman palace car. The lamp burned very dimly over-
head. Daylight penetrated the curtains round him.
He felt very weak and very cold, but he was not dream-
ing. How had he got there?—what had happened—
where was the snow?
He called out. A gentleman entered softly. "Where
am I?" inquired Bertie faintly.
"Hush, hush! quite safe; do not agitate yourself," re-
plied the doctor, as Bertie fancied the new-comer to be.
"We have got you round nicely."
"But where am I?" persisted Bertie.
"You are at Ambergate Junction."
"I must go to Manchester at once. Help me up,
please."
"My dear sir, it is quite impossible to move you. You
have had a very severe fall, and must be kept quite
quiet. We have telegraphed particulars to Mr. Arteman.
You cannot be moved."
This was decisive, and the doctor left the berth. Yet,
as soon as his back was turned, Bertie made an effort to
rise. With difficulty he repressed a scream: the pain
was acute. He at once perceived that movement, even
in bed, was out of the question at present, so wisely he
determined to await events. His thoughts naturally dwelt
upon the happy vision he had seen, and he foolishly
accepted this as an omen favourable to his ultimate
happiness. At length he fell asleep.
He awoke very hungry, and saw the doctor at his side.
64
SNOWED UP.
He put out his hand, which Bertie took and clasped
warmly in his own. The kind doctor made a careful
examination of his patient and then said—
“You are much better this evening, I am glad to
tell you, and as soon as the stiffness wears off you will
be all right again. I may tell you now that we have
had a telegram from Mr. Arteman. He is at Manchester,
so your natural anxiety may be allayed.”
"Oh! thank you, thank you," exclaimed Bertie,
with fervour. "You have indeed put my mind at
ease."
“I was enabled to tell him there was no danger, so
he went on this afternoon. He saw you while you were
asleep. Bertie stared, as well he might. "Yes," con-
tinued the doctor, "you have slept for thirteen
hours."
"Indeed!" was the patient's only reply.
"But I
say,” he added, how did I get here? I remember being
in the snow, and I think I fell—
ઘર
"I should think you did,” replied the doctor. “You
came plump into this car-rolling in snow."
"I am afraid I am still confused, doctor, for I do not
understand you now.”
"You rolled down the embankment into the windows.
We were snowed up in the great cutting on the up-line.
Another train, yours probably, was at the other end.
You in your excursion tumbled into our windows. It
was very fortunate for you that you didn't roll over the
parapet into the river, my lad."
"And very lucky," said Bertie, graciously, "that you
happened to be in the train, doctor."
"You have not to thank me so much as Mr.
""

*
(
SEATED ON THE SOFA. '—(See p. 8».)
RAST
ریم
FUGEE
፡ በ
211112
•**••*
*.
SNOWED UP.
67
and Mrs. Patterson, sir; and they telegraphed to Mr.
Arteman."
"Mr. and Mrs. who?" exclaimed Bertie, sitting up
quite regardless of his bruises. “Patterson, did you
say?"
"Yes; do you know them? They did not appear to
recognise you."
""
"Yes-no-I know a Miss Patterson-I
"Whew!" was all the doctor's answer.
"What! Is there a Miss Patterson? Is she here?
Is she was she in the train? Alice is her name."
"That is the lady; she nursed you until I came.
Her mother is an invalid rather. They were caught
in the drift last night like yourself."
"Where is she, doctor? Did she leave a message?”
The doctor's eyes twinkled. “Well, not exactly, but
she gave me special directions to let her papa know how
you were. This is the address."
He took an envelope from his pocket-book and handed
it to Bertie, who read-"Harvey Patterson, Esq., at
Hotel, London, till Friday afternoon."
"What's to-day?" inquired Bertie, hastily.
"This is Thursday. It is seven o'clock p.m.
"Doctor," exclaimed Bertie as he recalled the vision
of the day before, while he lay half insensible, " I shall
go to London to-morrow."
The doctor smiled. "What, and leave Manchester
business! But seriously, I think you scarcely fit to
travel. Well-well, we shall see," he continued, as
Bertie moved his head impatiently.
"We shall see.
Keep quiet now, and I dare say you will be well
enough to go to London. Good night."
68
SNOWED UP.
"Good night." And then Bertie resigned himself
to blissful thoughts, and happy anticipations for the
morrow.
Two o'clock was striking at Westminster, when Mr.
Bertie Tyrrel's card was taken into a private sitting-
room at the
Hotel. There was only one
occupant of the spacious room-a young lady whose
good, sensible, and bright face lighted up with a softer
expression as she read the name of her visitor.
"Show him in, please," she said calmly, yet the
palpitation beneath the well-fitting travelling-dress to a
woman's eye would have betrayed a secret.
The waiter ushered Bertie in and quickly retired.
The young man waited until the door was closed, and as
Miss Patterson stood up with outstretched hand, he
clasped it warmly. No word of greeting did he speak.
He only gazed for one moment into those eyes of liquid
blue-the eyes grew tender and then the shading lashes.
trembled, but only for a second. But Bertie could
read.
Without a word, he clasped Miss Patterson in his
arms. My darling!" was all he said.
66
She struggled to free herself, strongly at first; but
as he whispered something in the crimson shell-like ear
close to his trembling lips, her pretty head sank upon
his shoulder, and the silence that gives such sweet con-
sent told all the rest!
When Mr. Patterson came an hour afterwards, he found
a prospective son-in-law seated on the sofa, holding his
daughter's hand.
Explanation ensued; the upshot of it being that Bertie's
SNOWED UP.
69
health required a change to the south of France. He
was married in the ensuing summer; and he always
considers that he owes his present happiness to having
been SNOWED UP.
HENRY FRITH.

The
¿

A RACE FOR LIFE.
CHAPTER I.
A Look at the Reservoirs-A Dangerous Flaw-A Storm-An Early Call
-"Ride for your Life."

Ma
Y dear fellow, I am
delighted to see you,”
exclaimed my friend
McCausland, as he met me
at the door of his house.
I had gone on a visit to
Holmesdale, a little town in
the north of England.
McCausland was engineer to the
water company there, and had invited
me to go down for a week.
After the usual interval for dressing, we
sat down to an excellent little dinner. Not
unnaturally the conversation turned upon the weather.
"I am sorry this rain continues," said McCausland;
"it spoils my water-supply. People bully me as if I
could help it.
"Are your reservoirs near the town ?" I asked.
"No," he replied, "away in the hills. We can go
over to-morrow if you like. I'm due there.”
66
A RACE FOR LIFE.
71
2
The excursion was arranged. We agreed to start at
eleven o'clock next morning, and we started punctually.
We pursued our way up the hill, and crossing the
brow, reached a small inn. Here we found a country gig
awaiting us. Into this we clambered, and proceeded
along a wooded by-road, stony and rut-full. At length,
when hope had almost given way to bad language,
we pulled up at another small inn called the
"Reservoir." We got out of the gig gladly.
An engineer foreman hurried up and accosted us
politely
"Is all right, Johnson?" inquired McCausland.
"Yes, all is right; but"
“Well, but what? ”
"I don't quite like the South Reservoir embank.
ment," was the reply.
McCausland turned pale to his very lips.
"Come with me," he said abruptly. We hurried
after him in silence, and with a strange dread upon us.
We soon came in sight of the extensive embankment,
which confined the water of the largest of the three
reservoirs of the Holmesdale Company. A fresh breeze
was blowing the water in small though noisy waves
against the paved top of the bank. Here and there a
tongue of liquid spat upon the stonework, and at one
spot it trickled down into and apparently came through
the grass.
"This is the spot I was looking at this morning,” said
Johnson.
“You had better have a few men to puddle up this,"
said McCausland, indicating a tiny crack that would
have escaped less experienced eyes.
72
A RACE FOR LIFE.
1
}
We then continued our inspection, but during our
progress round the works the clouds had massed them-
selves in wild grandeur above the hills, and lay heavily
above the Apps valley in front. The railroad crossed the
valley on a graceful viaduct near Ammering Junction.
The dark slaty clouds hung suspended over this district.
Long tendrils of the scud came forth from them like
fingers. These clutched now a rock, then a solitary
tree, now swept up again and brought down a larger
mass of cloud to place upon the ground-ever stealing
onward and downward, leaving all in its stealthy track
dank and foggy. A low moaning sound was in the air.
It was not the wind, for the breeze had strangely lulled.
The trees scarce moved, yet the water rolled up against
the reservoir-banks as if agitated by an unseen wheel.
We all seemed conscious of the disturbance of the
atmospheric conditions, and the leaves whispered strange
confidences to the motionless boughs above our heads.
McCaus-
The men had all gone up to the reservoirs.
land and I sat chatting together.
"Do you think you could find your way back alone?"
he asked suddenly.
66
Why?" I said. "Do you intend to remain here?
Is there any danger?"
"Well, scarcely that; but I think I ought to be on
the spot. I will return to-morrow or next day."
"Cannot I stay too?"
"Certainly, if you desire it. We rough it up here,
though."
"I do not mind that," I replied. So it was settled.
Fortunate it was that I did remain. As we were preparing
to visit the sluices again we were startled by a vivid
A RACE FOR LIFE.
73
flash of lightning, which had hardly passed when the
rocks rang out with a thousand thunder-echoes.
This was the signal. The windows of heaven opened,
and a perfect deluge descended upon the devoted valley.
The little brooks leaped up, and danced down the hill-
sides, in white array. Tiny water-falls swelled them-
selves into cataracts, and foamed down to the streams.
The wind rose up from its sleep and forced great rolling
waves across the coping of the reservoirs, and stones and
grass became commingled.
Now the sluice-valves were all opened, and the long-
imprisoned water gladly dashed from out its prison to
meet its native river once again. The channel of the
Holmesdale, once more filled with water, divided on
the hill. But still the men worked hard amid the
gathering gloom and thunder by lantern-light, and
Nature rested not that livelong night.
But I turned in and got some sleep in defiance of
the elemental war without.
At five o'clock in the morning, as the grey light was
struggling into life, McCausland came, fully dressed,
into my room. I started up.
"Dress yourself as quickly as you can, and come
down-stairs,” he said. I began to ask questions. "Lose
no time, there's a good fellow; I want your assistance."
He left the room.
I jumped up at once, hurried to the window and
looked out. Day was just breaking through the misty
sky, and all the world was raining. The water was
plashing from the eaves, and mingling with the heavy
drops, burst into a separate stream in every rut and
furrow. The wind beat the tall trees and roared amid
74
A RACE FOR LIFE.
the branches. Ever and anon a sharp snap denoted a
bough torn from its place and whirled to the soaking
earth.
I dressed quickly and joined McCausland in the little
parlour. He was studying a private copy of the railroad
time-tables, which as an official he always carried.
"Will you take the horse and ride down to Ammering
Junction with a message?"
His collected manner assured me. Was this all? A
ride through the rain was not much. "Of course, I will
go."
He grasped my hand firmly. "Are you nervous?'
he said, as he held it in his own steady grasp.
"Nonsense," I replied, laughing; "I'll be ready in
five minutes if it's important. Is the horse here?"
I ran up for my waterproofs. When I came down the
horse was at the door, and McCausland inspecting him.
I mounted. "Now," I said, "for this great message, if
you please."
McCausland's tone had something very solemn in it,
as he replied-
"Tell the station-master at Ammering Junction, and
any people you see, that the South Reservoir will not
last three hours. It will burst down the valley, and will
destroy the Apps Viaduct, and carry away the bridges
on the Holmesdale branch. Stop the traffic, and save
the passengers. God bless you; and, hark ye, ride for
your life. I will fire the signal-cannon as a warning.
Good-bye."
P
1
""

C
C
FORZATE.
ITAMONTE
My
CHAPTER II.
A Terrible Mistake-Making up for Lost Time-Fighting the Storm-
Steam versus Water-The Viaduct Destroyed-Just in Time-Effect of
the Flood.

M
ECHANICALLY I
gathered up the reins,
nodded to McCausland, for I
was too stupefied to reply in
words, and started upon my
wild ride. Three hours hence
and the water would be
pouring down the valley
through which my course lay.
No wonder I had to ride for
my life, and perhaps the lives
of hundreds of my fellow-creatures depended on mine.
Ammering Junction was some miles away. My route
lay through an unknown country, across moorland
intersected by flooded streams and swept by the fierce
wind and rain.
I must do it, I thought, as my horse picked his
cautious way amid the loose stones down the steep by-road
we had ascended the previous day. I should need all
my strength, though, to execute my task, so I pressed
on. A valuable slice out of my time had been expended
76
A RACE FOR LIFE.
when I reached the broad highway and urged my horse
to speed. I had to turn off again, I knew, but I fancied
I should easily find the path. Besides, was there not a
sign-post? Therefore, urged by dreadful tidings, and
with the fierce wind and biting rain by turns and all
together assailing me, I urged my horse onward. I
reached the turning and pulled up to read the direction I
should take. I nearly fainted with horror as I read. The
fatal finger pointed up the cross-road I was pursuing
-To Holmesdale and Seaham. The opposite index
pointed-To Ruddall and Ammering. I could scarce
credit my senses. Surely, I was right! We had come
up the previous day, and up the hill to the Reservoirs.
I had merely to reverse the route we had travelled. At
that moment, if you will believe me, the true state of
the case, and my own stupidity, flashed upon me. We
had come from Holmesdale; I was now bound for
Ammering, which lay at the opposite side.
This was a terrible mistake. It was now past six
o'clock. One of the three precious hours had elapsed,
and I was further from Ammering than when I started.
I was seized with despair; whatever could I do now?
Two hours remained, and I had three up-hill miles to
ride, and then about seven more across the moor before
I could reach the junction, and before that the trains
might have started, and then!
I burst out into a cold perspiration at the thought,
and then desperate, and only half-conscious, I rode madly
back to the Ammering-road, and up the hill again. But
the storm fiend was abroad, and had arrayed all his forces
against me.
As we gained the more open ground, the blast came
A RACE FOR LIFE.
77
1
down with such violence as to stagger us.
It tore across
the hill-side, and whizzed and hissed amongst the gorse
and swaying grass. The rain came down more deter-
minedly than ever. At length I reached a small cluster
of stone cottages, and halted under the lee of the last
one to take breath for a fresh struggle over the moor-
which lay before me. A straight road lay over it-a
good road, but crossed at intervals by rapid streams
which had overflowed their usual limits, and swelled over
the boundaries in all the pride of "spate" across the
flinty stones which had defied them all the summer long.
The summits of the neighbouring hills were shrouded in
a veil of mist, but far in advance, on the level, I could
trace the railroad line. From the elevation at which I
stood, I could trace the channel of the Apps River down.
the valley, and could guess the spot at which the flood
would strike the railroad, and the branch line over the
spur of the hill. I could just distinguish the junction
in the middle distance. A dark smoke appeared to be
rising from it an engine perhaps waiting to start with
a train, and I was lingering on the hill. All this, and
more, I could perceive as I rested on the summit. Some-
what refreshed, I rode manfully forward into the storm.
How my horse kept his feet I do not to this hour
understand. The wind which had been high before,
appeared to have gathered new force while we had halted,
and it rushed across the track terrifically. Pebbles
were frequently blown across the road, and every pool
had its waves, like a miniature sea. Some helpless crows
were blown over my head, and a sinister-looking raven
skimming the moor close by, uttered a weird croak which
fell upon my ears like a knell, and chilled my blood. I
1
78
A RACE FOR LIFE.
was quite alone, not a human being in sight, but sudden-
ly the whistle of a locomotive was carried to my ears.
An engine moved out of the station. Another whistle
shortly afterwards. That train was safe. I watched it
glide away over the viaduct. Five minutes later I rode
into the station, and called for the stationmaster. As
I dismounted the clock struck eight. The time was up,
and no signal from McCausland. Telegraphing would
now be easy. A porter came out in response to my
summons.
"I'm sorry ye lost the express," he began.
"I don't want the train," I replied, "I must telegraph
at once though. Where is the station master?"
"He'll be here in a minute. But ye can't telegraph.
The wires is blown down. We had to send a 'pilot'
with the express to clear the line up to Handleigh.
""
"Not telegraph! I tell you, man, I must stop the
traffic. The South Holmesdale Reservoir will burst this
very hour."
"Can that be true?" inquired a cool, gentlemanly
man at my elbow. It was the station-master himself.
"True!" I echoed. "It is only too true. I have
ridden to tell you. We must stop the trains."
"The excursion leaves Handleigh at 8.5," mused the
station-master. "There may be time; come with me."
He crossed the line and entered a shed opposite. I fol-
lowed. Just then a loud-booming sound rent the air.
The sound came back from the hills like thunder.
"It is the signal," I exclaimed.
"The water is out.
Heaven help us now!"
The station-master called out. A cleaner appeared.
“Is that engine ready?”

WATOLE
[tium.
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tifi
"THE BRIDGE GAVE WAY BEHIND US."-(See p. 82.)
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,
1
A RACE FOR LIFE.
81
"Yes, sir, waiting for the excursion."
"Run and open the points.-Now, sir, get up."
I obeyed mechanically, and before I quite realised the
situation we had crossed to the up line. The station-
master stopped to get a red flag and give a few instruc-
tions to his subordinate. I now perceived that we were
to race the flood. Steam versus Water. Which would
conquer?
A whistle: we started. "The flood, the flood!"
shouted the porter. We turned one glance up the valley.
A moving brown wall, capped with a snowy ridge, was
tearing down to the devoted viaduct. No time to lose.
"Go ahead,” cried the station-master. I turned on
steam, put the lever over another "notch," and the race
began in earnest.
We flew along the metals. A few minutes would
decide it. We must get to the viaduct and over it first,
or the excursion, unwarned, would dash to destruction.
A depression in the ground ran beside the railroad for a
short distance. We trusted to this to turn the velocity
of the approaching water. It was an exciting race, and
one never to be forgotten. On rolled the flood. We
were running "neck and neck" for one terrible half-
minute. Now the resistless flood bore directly to the
bridge. Stones were rolled before it like marbles.
Trunks of trees, haystacks, debris of every description
came headlong down upon the doomed structure. We
fled like lightning over the rails. Our speed told now.
Sparks flew from the chimney. Another "notch"-the
beat of the piston quickened to an almost inconceivable
rapidity. We were on the bridge. Hurrah! The
curling wave beneath seemed to spring forward. It
F
82
A RACE FOR LIFE.
broke against the buttresses. In a second we were
across. I shut off steam, the station-master put down
the breaks. A tearing, rending sound, that was not the
breaks-a crash! We looked back. The line dropped
behind us like a stage-trap. The bridge gave way, and
with a roar, that was heard two miles off, the pretty
viaduct was swept away by the boiling, furious water.
We were truly thankful for our narrow escape. And
now to save the excursion. Speeding forward again,
whistling like a demon, our good engine-Vigilant
by name-soon came in sight of the excursion train.
By waving our red flag we averted another danger
a collision. The telegraph-posts being down,
trains had to run upon the same line as far as Handleigh,
but our timely action set all to rights at last.
We soon gave the bewildered passengers to understand
the narrow escape they had had. Fervent and sincere
were the thanks we received from all, except one man.
He was escaping from justice, and was captured. From
the elevated embankment we could trace the course of
the flood for miles. The train put back to Handleigh,
whence the passengers were forwarded by another
company.
By the time we had arranged matters and returned
to the broken viaduct the water had subsided. The
work of destruction was complete, but a "breakdown"
gang was quickly on the spot. A footway was con-
structed across the muddy river-bed, and trains stopped
at both sides of the stream, the passengers exchanging
from one to the other.
The loss of cattle and farm produce caused by that
terrible flood was very great. Had the catastrophe
A RACE FOR LIFE.
83
1
occurred during the night, the loss of human life would
have been appalling. As it was, some unfortunate people
were drowned, but some had most marvellous escapes.
The aspect of the country as I retraced my steps was
deplorable: I could scarcely recognise the places I had
passed in the morning.
I found McCausland and his staff at the reservoir
awaiting me. He wrung my hand fervently, and said
certain words that I shall not easily forget.
The viaduct was quickly rebuilt, but the station-
master at Ammering does not forget the race of
Steam versus Water on the Vigilant locomotive.
Nor do I!
HENRY FRITH,


gh
Umoja
MUTINY ON BOARD.
Friendless-An Appointment at Last-On Board the "Alecto "—An
Enthusiastic Chess Player-An Unfortunate Captain-The Philosophy
of Sea-faring-Inspection of the Convicts-Differences of Character-
Williams-Suspicious Conferences-Fever on Board-Short-handed in
a Storm-Mutiny-Death of McNab-The Honest Corporal-A Clever
Escape-Retribution.

I'
COMMENCED my medical
career with exceptional dis-
advantages. My parents were
dead, and I had not a friend
or relative willing or able to
help me; I was cast entirely on
my own resources, which were
a diploma, a respectable ward-
robe, and twenty pounds in
cash-the balance of the
capital which had sufficed for
my education. Feeling des-
perately the necessity of
exertion, I applied to all sorts
the presence of big wigs,
approached without proper
introduction, and outraging them with demands for
of people, rushing into
who ought not to be
A
MUTINY ON BOARD.
85
.
surgical employment. I should say I sometimes re-
ceived as many as six snubs and rebuffs in a
morning. At last I fairly broke down in the presence
of a haughty young Admiralty clerk, who was perturbed
and melted by my distress, when on my asking him to
tell me how I could get into the Navy he replied—
،،
'Suppose you apply on a pwopper form through the
pwopper channel. Look here," he said, calling me
back: "leave your name and address. Surgeons are
wanted for things sometimes in a hurry."
Two days afterwards I received a letter, informing me
that a surgeon was required for the Alecto, which was to
sail for Sydney on the following Sunday with a cargo of
convicts, and that if I applied in person at a place and
hour named, and answered certain questions satisfactorily,
there was little doubt but what I should get the
appointment.
There was no medical employment on earth that I
would not have jumped at, blind-fold, just then; so I
made my application, was accepted without any diffi-
culty—with rather an ominous alacrity indeed ; and
after such poor preparations in the way of outfit as my
ignorance suggested and my slender means could afford,
I went on board the Alecto, which was lying off Green-
wich, and found myself in medical charge of a captain,
two mates, a lieutenant of the Royal Navy, in some
mysterious capacity which I never rightly comprehended;
twenty sailors, an officer of marines and his men and
250 convicts.
The naval lieutenant was the only man on the quarter-
deck when I went up the side.
"I am the surgeon," I began, advancing towards
86
MUTINY ON BOARD.
him; but before I could say another word, he asked
abruptly-
"Can you play at chess?"
"Yes-a little," I replied.
"I'm thankful, vera thankful for that. Shake hands,
sir. The marine body, Mr. Phipps, no cares for the
game; and how should we surveeve sich a protracted
and tedious voyage without chess? My name is Mac
Nab, and I hope we shall be friends, sir."
I said that I hoped so too, and we engaged in a
conversation which was the reverse of inspiriting. I
gathered from Mr. Mac Nab that the skipper had been
unfortunate in former voyages-that his mates were
ruffians-that the crew were very poor types indeed of
the British sailor-that the ship herself was a rotten
old hulk that ought to have been broken up years
before.
P
I went down to my cabin, which seemed absurdly
small, and low, and dark; got my portmanteau there,
and tried to make arrangements for future comfort.
Then I studied the printed instructions I had received
as to how often I was to inspect the convicts, &c., and
wondered what was to be done if they were refractory,
and who had authority over me to prevent me shirking
my duties; for I had sole command, it seemed, in my
particular department.
When I returned on deck, I found the captain and
Mr. Phipps there. The former had a red nose and
watery eyes, which explained, perhaps, why he had been
unfortunate with his ships; the latter was a gentlemanly
fellow enough, but desponding and taciturn, his silence.
being of the less importance that when he did talk he
MUTINY ON BOARD.
87
generally grumbled, which did not add to the cheerfulness
of so small a party. His only solace was in making
pen-and-ink sketches, at which he was very clever;
landscapes, with chiaroscuro effects, involving an
immense amount of time and labour, being his principal
forte.
Both he and MacNab were disappointed men; but the
Scotchman was the better philosopher of the two.
We four supped together, and in due time I went to
my berth, and found out how to get into it. I felt like
a toy put away on a shelf in a cupboard, for it was my
first experience of ship accommodation. When you have
learned to lie on your back and not want to move all
night—to take enough oxygen into the lungs while on
deck to last for the time you are below, and to be in-
different to cockroaches running over you, you get on a
great deal better.
On reaching the deck next morning, I found that we
were under sail, and dropping down the river, which
had grown very wide.
It was not long before we were fairly in the Channel,
and the pilot got into his boat and left us.
There was a nice breeze, but the sea was perfectly
smooth, and the ship glided through the water with a
delightful glibness; so that I felt I ought to be doing
something towards learning my duties while I was able,
and confided to MacNab that I should like to hold an
inspection of the convicts, who were all gathered on the
main-deck in charge of their warders and the marines,
who mounted sentry over them with loaded muskets and
fixed bayonets.
I found that I had made an official application in the
88
MUTINY ON BOARD.
right quarter by accident, for MacNab immediately
said-
"At what time? at once?"
And when I replied in the affirmative, gave certain
sharp short orders, the result of which was that in less
than ten minutes a warder came up to me, touched his
cap, and reported-
"All ready, sir."
And following him, I found the convicts drawn up in
lines, bare-footed. My inspection of them was a mere
form, for, of course, they were sent on board sound and
clean, but I made certain suggestions with regard to the
sanitary arrangements between decks, where their ham-
mocks were slung, and these were promptly attended to
where practicable. When I had done MacNab challenged
me to a game of chess, and fortunately we proved to
be very evenly matched. He was quite right in relying
so much upon it as a resource; how we should have
got through the weeks without it I cannot imagine; we
played at least six hours daily out of the twenty-four.
When we got into the broad swell of the Atlantic
I had a week's sea-sickness, during which MacNab
had the best of me at chess, and after I was well I began
to have some trouble with the convicts. What schemers
they were! Their one great object was to get a glass
of grog or wine, which could only be done by my order,
and they regularly studied the complaints for which I
prescribed such medical comforts, and either simulated
or managed to produce them artificially. Greenhorn as
I was, they imposed upon me rarely at first, and just as
I was getting up to their dodges we passed the Equator,
and there was a good deal of real sickness, which gave
MUTINY ON BOARD.
89
them the advantage again. As time went on I became
familiarised with the rogues, and learned to look upon
them as fellow-men who had gone wrong, rather than as
wild beasts. I talked to them freely, learned many of
their histories—at least their own versions of them-
and took considerable interest in some of the narrators.
Most were ignorant debased creatures, either born and
bred to prey on their fellow-creatures, or recruited from
the most neglected ranks of society; but there were one
or two exceptions-notably, a man who passed under the
name of Williams, who was gifted with rare abilities,
and had the manners and address of a gentleman. His
face would have afforded an interesting study to a physiog-
nomist, the upper part being highly intellectual, the
lower half betokening unbounding sensuality. His crime
was forgery of bank notes. This man never condescended
to try and trick me, as the others did; neither did he
sulk, like some of the better-class convicts, or protest
his innocence, which was the almost universal custom.
He was civil, somewhat subdued in manner, and glad of
my conversation. He had yielded to the temptation of
trying to make his fortune in too great a hurry, had
failed, and was content to pay the penalty, he said.
Though a "lifer," he by no means despaired of his
future. He was informed that with good conduct he
would soon be a free man within the limits of the colony,
and had perfect confidence in his ability to earn a com-
fortable livelihood if he had that chance. And what did
the country matter? Life could be made as enjoyable in
one place as another. He would not go back to England
to be cut by all his relations and former friends if he
could.
90
MUTINY ON BOARD.
1
Plausibly as Williams always talked, I mistrusted
him. I noticed that he had established a considerable
influence over the other convicts, and constantly surprised
him speaking earnestly in corners to groups of five or
six of them. On my appearance these conferences broke
up, and in spite of all affectation of indifference, I was
certain on more than one occasion that anxiety was felt
lest I should have caught some word in passing. And
I knew, without being able to prove it, that secret signs
were exchanged between Williams and at least a score,
whom I could have pointed out, habitually.
Another convict who evidently had some power
with his fellows was Lloyd, a Welsh sailor who had
stabbed another in a quarrel, and narrowly escaped the
gallows.
But it was natural enough that an experienced sailor
should obtain the hearing of landsmen during a voyage
of such length, and I never suspected him of striving
to influence the others with any sinister designs, as I
certainly did Williams.
But soon I had no time for idle speculation and
suspicion the sickness, a fever, attended by symptoms
which were unfamiliar to me, increased. Soon there
were a score of convicts, several seamen, and one of the
marines down with it.
A man died, was sewn up in his hammock, and
launched from the gangway with a shot at his feet, Mac
Nab reading the service over him. During the cere-
mony one of those phenomena which make sailors so
superstitious occurred. As the body touched the water
the wind sank, and in half-an-hour there was a perfect
calm. In many minds a calm at sea is associated with
MUTINY ON BOARD.
91
all that is peaceful and beautiful; in mine it is a
horrible nightmare.
For a week we lay on the broad, smooth sheet of
glass, without a speck in sight to break the monotony.
Glass? Molten silver rather, for the heat was so fearful
that I sometimes imagined that it would seethe. The
sun seemed like a mass of white-hot iron close above us,
and the pitch oozed and boiled between the planks.
Poor Phipps could not go on with his sketching, for the
perspiration dropping from his forehead blotted his
work, and even MacNab's ardour for chess relaxed. But
I had little time to play with him--under such aggra-
vating conditions the fever raged. Deaths were of daily,
sometimes of hourly occurrence; we soon had to cast
the bodies overboard without ceremony.
On the fourth day the captain and one of his mates
sickened, and the shattered constitution of the former
caused him to sink at once. Then Phipps took the
fever, and though it was a mild attack, he was so feeble
as to be unfit for duty.
Such of the convicts as escaped the fever began to
hold their heads erect, and look you full in the eyes as
they passed, as though they felt that death was bring-
ing us all to an equality.
The sixth day was the most oppressive of all--it was
literally difficult to draw breath, and though I escaped
the fever, I was knocked up for the first time. To do
my work amongst the dying and the dead was a physical
impossibility for me; I threw myself down under the
awning on the quarter deck, and lost all consciousness,
probably remaining in a state of torpor for hours.
I was roused by the most tremendous crash I have
92
MUTINY ON BOARD.
ever heard, and found myself in darkness, but only for a
moment; the next, sea, sky, and ship were lit up by a
violet glare, while a zigzag line of fire, so intense that the
eyes ached at it, flashed, and left the gloom more pro-
found than ever. And again came that awful thunder,
compared with which the loudest ever heard in Europe
is a whisper. That moment of fierce light revealed to
me men in the rigging, taking in the sail which had
been spread to catch the slightest breeze and a spar
hanging awkwardly and all awry. Also MacNab and
the mate who now acted as captain standing near me.
"We shall never be able to manage without help,
we are so terribly underhanded," said the latter.
"Weel then," replied MacNab, "we will pick half-
a-dozen of the deevils, nae more. One I ken has been
a sailor and-
""
Another flash and deafening roar, which drowned his
voice.
66
"Eh, Mr. Glover, lad," he said, when the lull came,
are ye there? Ye had better just go below. Your
work is done and ours is beginning. There will be
breeze enow to blaw the fever away presently, and ye
will be in the way."
I had often determined, if there were a storm, to
remain on deck and see it; the freshness of the air
too was delightful to breathe; but fatigue overcame
all else, and I was glad to take MacNab's advice.
Imagine what I had gone through that week, in such
a climate, with patients dying by dozens in my youth-
ful hands, many of whom I felt could have been saved
with better nursing, and you will not wonder at my
prostration.
MUTINY ON BOARD.
93
As I reached the cabin stairs the rain came down in
sheets; there was a booming, roaring sound; the ship
heeled over and raced through the water as the storm
came down upon her. A flash of lightning showed me
that the sea was already white with foam.
I went below, made a hearty meal off some salt beef
and biscuit I found on the table, drank a stiff glass of
rum and water, and turned into my berth to renew my
nap, weariness drowning the sense of danger.
How long I slept, or what happened in the time, I do
not know. When I awoke, the ship was rolling heavily,
and there was a continuous, ominous sound, thud, thud,
thud, thud, accompanied with the pouring of water,
which caused me to hurry on deck, where a scene of
terrible confusion met my eyes, for it was broad daylight.
A mast had gone; the deck was littered with cordage
and broken woodwork. All was confusion, authority in
abeyance; convicts, sailors, marines were mixed up to-
gether, hurrying to and fro, or working at the pumps.
The gale had abated, was dying out in fact, but there
was a leak which could not be discovered, though, in
consequence of the number of hands to relieve one another
in pumping, the water did not gain upon us. Finding
I was not wanted there, I went below again to attend
upon Phipps, who had been left I knew not how long,
and was too weak to help himself much. The fever had
left him, but he was low and desponding, and asked me
to read the Bible to him, which I did.
After a time I heard MacNab come down, and went
into the saloon out of which our private cabins opened
to speak to him. I found him loading his pistols.
"The leak has been found and stopped," he said, "but
94
MUTINY ON BOARD.
I
I dinna like the look of the convicts; some of them ha’e
got arms, I fear me.”
While he was speaking shouts and shots were heard
above, and he rushed to the cabin stairs, I following him.
Directly we reached the deck we saw a body of convicts
coming aft, headed by Williams, who had a musket in
his hands.
"The game is up, lieutenant," he cried; "you had
better surrender."
MacNab's answer was a pistol shot; Williams stag-
gered, but recovered himself, levelled his musket, fired,
and MacNab fell dead in my arms. In a moment I was
knocked down, bound, and thrust aside to be a helpless
spectator of crimes I could not move a finger to pre-
vent. Some of the ruffians rushed down the cabin
stairs, and returned, dragging poor Phipps with them.
With brutal jests they bore him to the lee bulwarks,
one took his shoulders, another his feet, and they tossed
him alive into the sea. All the sailors or marines who
were sick, or had been wounded in the struggle, were
in like manner thrown overboard; the remainder were
gathered together in a body, and Williams, who had
evidently been elected chief, made them a speech, offer-
ing them their lives if they would join them heartily.
Most of them shrank from the horrible death before
them, and acceded, but a corporal of marines stood
firm.
"You will all be taken and hanged within a month,"
he boldly said, "and I had sooner drown with honest
men than swing with thieves and murderers."
The words were hardly out of his mouth when he was
shot dead.
MUTINY ON BOARD.
95
"And now, lads, " cried Williams, "I know what you
are all thinking of the rum!" (cheers.)
“Well, every
man shall have a tot, and a few at a time shall have a
skinful. But most of us must keep sober to manage
the ship, so I have set a guard over the spirit room, and
any man who tries to force it will have his brains blown
out. I will tell you what I propose to do, if you agree.
There are some islands near where we are with the best
climate, the finest fruit, and plenty of food without
working for it. We will make for one of these, land
everything out of this rotten old ship, and then scuttle
her. You have made me your captain, and I appoint
Lloyd my chief officer. He is a sailor, and knows where
these islands are, and how to reach them, so he will
sail the ship."
Loud acclamations greeted this address, and the
assembly adjourned to the grog tubs.
I was not long left unmolested; a knot of fellows
gathered round me, and discussed what they should do
with me, and one at last suggested that I should be
made to swallow the contents of my medicine chest,
which was forthwith brought up for the purpose, and
some calomel pills were actually forced into my mouth.
While I was struggling, a man came up.
"What are you doing with the doctor?" he asked
excitedly; "didn't the captain say he wasn't to be
touched?—He wants to see you, sir, down in the cabin,”
he added civilly to me. My persecutors slunk off,
grumbling, and my deliverer cut my bonds and led me
to Williams, who had been shot in the shoulder, and
wanted his wound attended to. I managed to extract
the bullet, and when he was easier he said-
96
MUTINY ON BOARD.
"I am sorry for all these horrors, doctor, I swear I
am. But you know the men I have to deal with, and
how slight my hold is upon them. You have been kind
to many of them, and are useful besides, so I managed
to save your life, but when I said a word for the others
they would not listen. As for MacNab, he fired at me
first, or he would never have fallen by my hand."
"You are responsible to God and the law, not to me,”
I replied.
Ought I to have refused to tend his wound? Was it
my duty to beard and upbraid him? I do not know;
life is sweet, and I wished and tried to preserve it,
excusing my pusillanimity at the time by the thought
that my testimony, if I survived, might bring the whole
body of rascals to justice.
I quite understood the tenure upon which my life was
held, in spite of Williams' plausible speeches. There
were many sick, and several wounded, both by the storm
and in the fight when the vessel was seized, and they
needed my services. When they thought they could do
without me, I should be silenced for ever, together with
every other probable witness against them. Meanwhile,
the ship was kept on her course towards the Friendly
Islands, under Lloyd's management, and on the third
day land was sighted.
That evening a sailor who had joined the mutineers
on compulsion, and had been hurt, came to me and
said
"I beg pardon, sir, but would you dress my wound on
deck, where every one can see us?”
I saw he had a reason, and consented.
"I've something to say, sir, and don't want to be
MUTINY ON BOARD.
97
seen talking to you in a private way, for fear of making
them suspicious. Bill Hicks was at the mast-head on
the look-out last watch, and he saw something he did
not report, and that's a British frigate, round the head-
land of that there island. Don't start, sir. There's only
us of the old crew knows it; and we've had a boat ready
to lower for some days; it's that one on the port-side,
next the mizzen-mast. We mean to lower that quietly
at nightfall, and let it tow behind; and then, later,
such as can will get into it, cast off, and row for the
frigate. If you like, sir, you had better lie down in the
boat, and be lowered with it. Say you want a quiet
read, or sleep, or something, if you're seen. There's a
risk, of course, but not a big one. Lloyd's half-drunk
now, and will be quite after a bit, and so will most of the
others; for now they have got to the islands, they think
it's all right. There's only that Williams.”
"I can manage him,” said I; and we parted.
Williams' wound was painful and his pulse feverish;
so he gladly swallowed a soporific which would keep him
quiet for some hours.
At the proper time I got into the boat indicated, the
only men who could possibly see me being those at the
wheel, who were both old members of the crew, and
were prepared, when they knew that Lloyd was quite
overpowered by drink, to alter the course of the ship,
and steer for the headland where the frigate had been
seen. All went easier than had even been antici-
pated. When I had been stowed away half-an-hour, the
boat was lowered, and in a very little while three men
stole into it, cut the rope by which we were towing, and
when the ship had forged far enough ahead to prevent
G
98
the phosphorescence of the oar-dips attracting attention,
began to row in the direction of the headland.
In two hours' time we turned it, and saw the lights of
the frigate, against the sides of which, in another hour,
the boat grated.
MUTINY ON BOARD.
"Who goes there?" challenged a sentry.
"Medical officer escaped from a convict ship which
has mutinied."
I will not dwell on the joy with which I stood upon
the deck, or on the heartiness of my reception, when
I had made my report.
The frigate weighed, and stood out to sea at once;
and in the early morning came up with the convict
ship, boarded, and took her without resistance.
My evidence sufficed to clear the seamen and marines
who had been forced into a pretended compliance with
the projects of the mutineers, as also, some months
afterwards, to secure the execution of all those who
had taken a prominent part in the murder of my poor
friends, MacNab and Phipps, seventeen of whom
suffered the extreme penalty of the law at Sydney.
LEWIS HOUGH.

Surakarta
kakatakoto PA, 1
Les d
Student
g pla

We
KRAI MIEUR PORNan
SE
ஜாமம்
MOLE
RAJES MINE JA DOMINIDA 53 68 || FULL BUTTERI
WATCHING AHEAD.
SALE, MILE SERO
"Пenry Smith, Engine-driver "—Bad Times-At Work on the Railway
-From Engine-fitter to Driver-Driver of the Night Express-A
Runaway Engine- A Sudden Stop.

A
MAN can do anything
a'most, if he likes to
persevere. Here am I, Henery
Smith, driver o' the express
engine, "Swift Flash," on the
Great South Northern Rail-
way, with good pay, and what
I like next, plenty o' ccnfi-
dence put in you.
T'other day-it don't seem
more, though it's years ago-I sat on one side o' the
fire, looking werry hard at it, and the missus sat
on t'other side, also looking werry hard at it; and
both on us putting it to the blush, and keeping
it warm, for it did precious little o' that to us,
'cause why? coals was one-and-eightpence a hundred,
and money was scarce. You see, I always think the
getting of money's like what we used to read of years
ago
in the "House that Jack Built "the work begins
to make the money- the money begins to buy the coals
-the coals begin to cook and warm-and so on; and
then your wife looks cheerful with the reflection of a
}
> 1
}
i
1
1
J
100
WATCHING AIIEAD.
good fire, and that gets reflected off on to you, and so
home looks like home though its never so homely. But
there's nothing like depth o' winter, and a miserable
scrap o' fire at the bottom o' the grate to make you feel
what our Devon folk called "unked "-dumpy, you
know. Being hungry's bad enough—quite as bad, I
dessay, as being thirsty in a dry desert; but to my mind
there's nothing nips like being out o' work, and coming
home and finding no fire hardly, specially when you've
been hanging about the railway gates, and seen iron
cages stuck round the great pumps, full o' blazing coal
or coke, and stacks upon stacks o' great lumps lying
there waiting to be burnt. Ah! you looks at 'em long-
ingly as you thinks o' the empty cupboard at home,
where the chandler's shop man empties the little sacks ;
and then you sticks your hands in your pockets and
whistles to keep yourself warm.
Ann sat o' one side, and I sat on t'other, for it seemed
to me to be no use of running about wearing out shoe-
leather; so by way of a joke, just to cheer her up, I
says, "Don't put the fire out, my girl," for I could see
there was a tear or two ready to drop.
That did it; for before I knew where I was she was down
on her knees with her head in my lap, crying that bitterly
that you'd have thought she'd have broke her heart, and
all along o' my bit o' stupid banter. I knowed it was no
use to say anything then, so I lets her have her cry out,
and then, when the sobs only came sometimes, as she
nestled up close to me, I took her up in my arms and
laid her on the bed, and made her as warm as I could,
poor lass; for she'd no business to have been up, and if
she'd been some one else's wife there'd have been a

MUJ
KULUNANI ZAMU
"DOWN ON HER KNEES WITH HER HEAD IN MY LAP."-(See p. 100.)
:
WATCHING AHEAD.
103
doctor coming every day, and ordering of her port wine,
and jellies, and things which I could'nt get for her.
"Where are you going, Harry?" she says.
"Nother try at the rail," I says.
"No, no!" she says; not there. Don't go there,
Harry; you know I shall have no peace for thinking
of the danger from the engines. I dreamed last night
you was brought home dead.
66
Come, none of that," I says, laughing-leastwise it
was about half-way between a laugh and a cry-and
then I sits down and looks at my poor pale lass. There
she lay with her great staring eyes, and the blue veins
all showing through the skin, till I got to thinking of
the bonny girl who used to walk with me o' summer
evenings down the green lanes, talking about how we'd
get on in the world; and then, one upon the others,
comes the thoughts of what we'd had to go through since
that time, in spite of my trying all my best, and fight-
ing up hill and down dale with poverty. I knew it
was my fault, for I'd been bit with the idea o' bettering
myself, and left good wages to come up to London and
get more-like that dog in the spelling-book. Yes,
just like him; and I was getting the shadow now, and
no mistake: there was plenty of shadow hanging over
us both, but no substance.
L
I couldn't help it; I knew she did not like it; but I
went out directly, and got took on at the great railway
yard as sort of helper in the stables-being an engine-
fitter-and was set to work cleaning the great steam
horses, all amongst the oil, and grime, and smoke. But
dirty work brings clean money; and before long I found
as I'd been giving way to foolish thoughts, for my lass
A
104
WATCHING AHEAD.
got better and more cheerful, and left off taking on
about the baby, and keeping herself weak and poorly—
leastwise, that and the want o' money did—and soon
I
used to come home and find as she'd been blackleading
and tidying up till the place shone again; while, as soon
as she heard my step on the stairs—'taint a light one-
she'd tickle the fire in the ribs till it laughed, and home
looked quite first chop. Then, too, she began, as the
spring time came, to get a pot or two o' musk, and
primroses, and cetrer, such as used to make us both sit
and think again of the country. And it's wonderful
what there is in some o' them little flowers: why we've
sat over one here in the midst of the soot, and chimney-
pots, and bricks and mortar, and been far away directly
—hand in hand in the sunny lanes; up the banks; or
in the shady woods; listening to the blackbird's sweet
notes, and the twittering and hum all around us; till,
somehow or other, it all comes to this again, that you
leave off thinking with a sigh, and feeling a bit dewy,
while Nancy generally says-
"Ah, Harry; man made the big town, but God
made the beautiful country!"
But I've no call to grumble, for I see plenty of the
country now, if it is in a hurry, and mostly of a night.
For from being a steady, blunderheaded, straightfor-
ward sort o' chap, I got from cleaning to be took on
to stoke a goods engine; and that frightened Nancy
terribly, for the werry first week if I didn't smash my
thumb, by catching it against the door as I was throw-
ing in a great lump o' coal. That threw me back a bit;
but I got all right again, and stoked that engine till a
chance of a rise came, and I was changed to stoke a
-
WATCHING AHEAD.
105
passenger engine, which is pleasanter; for goods traffic
is so much of it in the night, and there you are shunting
about sometimes for long enough in the middle of the
cold dark hours, picking up empties, and leaving trucks
as are full, till it gets werry tiring; then, too, sometimes
you gets run off on a siding to let the passenger trains
go by, for they has the run o' the road.
Well, I was now stoker on a passenger engine, and
liked it better; but, before so werry long, I gets put
back to the goods, but this time as driver, and werry
proud I felt when I got home and told the wife ; but not
half so proud as I did when, in course o' time, I got to
be driver of a passenger engine-though it was only a
"parley." While now I'm bang up atop o' the tree,
and drives the night express-though I do reckon
some day o' driving a special as has got some o' the
Royalties in it; after which they may make me a
d'rector or not, just as they likes, for I shall be satisfied
anyhows.
66
Well, but," I says,
66 some one must do it; and
look, what a position we holds. Don't be uncomfortable,
lass; it's my impression as I'm as safe dashing along
full-swing, as I am sitting here. 'Taint for us to be
going through life afraid to put one foot afore the other,
when we know as there's One as will clear the way for
us." And then I looks round and sees our little place,
how snug it was, and how we'd prospered; and then
how neat and nice somebody else looked, though there
was a streak or two of grey peeping out of her smooth,
shiny black hair-for Nancy never fell into the habit o'
getting untidy as she grew older, while she never lets me
see the washtub-and there; I'm at it again! I could
106
WATCHING AHEAD.
go on all night about my wife; and I suppose it's
because I'm proud of her.
One night I walks down to the terminus, big as you
please, for I was an old stager on the line even then.
My stoker was in the shed with the engine-steam well
up and all ready for a start; bright and clean as a new
pin, and every joint and rod oiled and easy, as I could
see, as I cast my eyes round her—just like an old stage
coachman before starting. There were the red lights on,
and so I goes and times my watch, which wasn't two
seconds wrong; jumps up, and we run out of the shed
on to the main line; and then, after a shout to the
chap at the points, we runs back-easy-easier-
easiest and brings up against the train without
hardly springing a buffer; porter couples us on, just as
the first bell's going; and there we were all ready for a
start.
66
Jangle, jangle," goes the second bell; "bang, bang,”
the doors, "chirrup," the guard's whistle; and as the
boy yelled out the evening papers, I touches the screamer
and then the starter, and-"puff, puff," goes the engine;
and then-as if impatient to be off-"puff, puff, puff,
puff," in rapid time, spinning the driving wheels round
on the smooth metals before she had got fairly started.
Then, with a run, we slided out of the great glass
terminus; went, with a shriek, into the tunnel; out
again; past the sidings, and empty trucks, and yard full
of carriages under repair; rattling over the points and
turntables; and then faster, and faster, and faster-off
and away, so that the long stretched-out rows of gas-
lamps, right and left, seemed to turn round, and round,
as though there was a turntable under them; on past
WATCHING AHEAD.
107
the first little station just as we was getting into full
swing; and then the gas lamps all left behind, and we
going full rush into what seemed like a black mountain
right before us.
It aint everybody as has been on an engine at full
speed, on a winter's night; when it's that dark you can
almost feel it. Perhaps you don't know as it goes
along like in jumps at every stroke o' the piston-rod,
just as if it was galloping-the coupling-irons and
buffers prevents your feeling that in the carriages-but
first time of going on a fast engine would make you
hold on pretty tightly. I like it, though; it warms one
up in spirit, even if the wind's enough to freeze you,
while the heat from the fire's ready to roast; and it does
roast, sometimes, what we hold on a fork in it; for we
keep up good fires. Away we go; with the wind whistling
by, till far on ahead there's a twinkling light or two, and
then a bright green star, that we get nearer, and nearer,
till with a whistle and scream we fly thundering by
another station-the lights seeming to run one into
another as we dart past. Now, with the furnace door
wide open, and the light streaming out on to the steam
and smoke, we look like a comet rushing along, if it is
only five-and-forty miles an hour; though those great
speeds we read of quite put me out of conceit. Think
of the earth going round at the rate of a thousand miles
an hour! I've been sixty, and that's quite fast enough
for me.
But you people in the carriages don't know what it
is, dashing along through darkness, hail, rain, or snow;
eyes right ahead, and fist on the handle; always on the
look-out for danger signals; and knowing what a little
108
WATCHING AHEAD.
J
thing would send the whole train into one ruinous
smash.
Yes; there's some confidence placed in us, as we stand
there, fair weather or foul, watching ahead for danger,
doing our best, and trusting in Providence for the
rest, as on this first thirty miles run without stopping,
away we go shrieking past station after station as
though we meant to tear up the metals. Off and away
through tunnel after tunnel-no blacker than the night
outside; over viaduct, along steep embankments, and
down in deep cuttings; through the gloom of the night;
seldom thinking of the danger; and always, as a man
should in all things, watching ahead!
Away we went on the night I'm talking about, till
the red lights peered out of the darkness, and our first
thirty miles was done in not such a great deal more
than half an hour; then, watering up, off and away
again, with the lights left behind, and we tearing into
the black night.
Tom Crawley was a good stoker, and the steam was
well up; so that we were soon on full swing again,
shrieking 'em up at the little stations, and then away
again with a rush over the black country. I was star-
ing straight ahead, and had iny hand on the whistle, for
it was just time for us to pass a new station. Tom
pushed past me and gave my round glass a rub, and
then I could see the green light-faint, then bigger,
and I gives a whistle; when, as I does it, I sees the
lamp turned into a red one, and dashes the handle on
one side to shut off the steam, same time letting the
whistle shriek for the guard's break to be screwed down;
but, bless you, it did not seem an instant, though I had
WATCHING AHEAD.
109
time to think that it was here they shunted the goods
train, when there was a sharp crash and something broke
the round window of the screen; and then we were dart-
ing on faster than ever, for the shock had turned on
the steam once more. I nods to Tom to grind down
his break, as I tried to shut off again; but it was like
pulling at a post, and though Tom came and helped,
we could not move the handle, for a part of the valve
was broke.
I dashed open the furnace door, for I thought we was
going werry free, and wondered why the guard hadn't
clapped on his break; but, to my surprise, I finds as we
were alone; that the couplings had broke with the shock
of what we had run into, and there was Tom Crawley
and me with the engine and tender, and full of steam
on, going quite sixty miles an hour.
I gives Tom the sign, and he stoops down, rattles
out a rod or two, and down goes the fire bars on to the
line in a moment, dropping out the whole of the fire,
with the glowing coal and coke flying in great sparks
behind us; but that had no effect, for on we tore, with the
whistle shrieking and screaming, past two more stations,
while the next was to have been our halting-place.
Tom wanted to jump off, but I took hold of his arm
and stopped him, though I couldn't help asking myself
whether it wouldn't be the best thing to do; for, with
the big junction station within a few miles, where we
ought to pull up, who could say if the line was clear on
the other side?
On we went, screaming along, at a fearful rate—
some minutes before our time. There were the red
lights and the lamps of the station, and I made
•
110
WATCHING AHEAD.
!
another drag at the handle, but it was like tugging
at a rock; and then there was a flash of light on
each side, and we were through the station, and away
again into the great black mountain always ahead.
"Now," thinks I; "they'll telegraph right on, from
station to station, that there's a runaway engine, and
she'll soon cool down now.”
But she seemed as if she'd never cool down, but tore
shrieking on past two more stations; and I began to
wonder at last whether we ever should stop; and now,
for the first time, began to feel horribly frightened-for
the excitement had kept the fear off before.
At each station, now, they showed the red lights, and
we had just passed one signal-slackening pace a good
deal-when from the sharp swerve I felt the engine
give, I knew we had been turned on to a siding. Just
then, as though with a flash, came over me the thoughts
of the great danger I was in. You'd say there was no
time for thought; but there was; and there in the
midst of that peril, I could see a little tiny fellow
kneeling down before his mother, and saying after her
some words as have never been forgotten, and I should
say never can be. With those words gushing from my
heart, and with a Great Name upon my lips, I gave one
glance at my mate; and at the same moment Tom
Crawley and I jumped off-right and left-when it
seemed to me that I heard the noise of thunder and then
went to sleep.
But I soon came to-only being a bit stunned; but
Tom had a broken leg, and was badly scalded from the
overturned engine, which the station people shunted off
the main line, so that it ran smash on to the siding
WATCHING AHEAD.
111
buffers, doing five hundred pound worth o' damage to
itself in a moment.
There wasn't no lives lost, however, but it was a
mercy as there wasn't, for we had run right into the
tail of a goods train as was being shunted; and though
'the guard's van was shivered to atoms, my train was
not much damaged, only a carriage or two sent off the
line, and the people shook, while I've told you how we
left it behind. Of course there was an investigation ;
but it wasn't my fault, so I got no blame, but went on
with my dooty directly.
I said before that I wasn't much hurt, but I was a
good bit shook, and so was some one at home; and she
wanted me to give up for something else, but I looks
round at the comforts we enjoys, and I says-“ No, we
must have engine-drivers. That's the only accident
I've met with ;" and I kep' on.
DUMMEL, NOEL
That's years ago now, and with the exception o’once
cutting a poor cow all to pieces, I've had no more
upsets; so I keeps driving the express, trusting in
Providence; hoping for the best; and, fine weather or
foul, well watching ahead.

Add tommid
PA
AMAND

a q se je alkotta mak
ALL RIGHT AT LAST.
Captain and Mrs. Smith-A Runaway Son-Dennis and Jessie-Business
at Night-Wounded in the Fight-The Lost Son Found-Honest Work
at Last.

Y dear,"
dear," said
M'Captain' Smith,
of H.M. revenue cutter
Dauntless, to his wife,
looking up from the
damp sheet
sheet of the
Times, that lay on the
breakfast table beside
his well-filled plate,
"here it is again."
Pretty, daintily-at-
tired Mrs. Smith, for
she was still a comely
woman, though her
hair was thickly streak-
ed with grey, rose from
her seat behind the massive urn at the opposite end of the
table, and leaned over her husband's broad shoulder,
her eyes following his finger, as he pointed to the few
words so strangely interesting to them both.
ALL RIGHT AT LAST.
113
"God grant that it may be successful this time," she
murmured, and then her tears fell fast, for the memory
of a day gone by was heavy upon her, and her thoughts
had travelled back to a darkened room, where a young
mother had pressed her first-born to her heart. Ah!
the changes since.
"Come, come, Rosa," said the captain, "you will make
yourself ill. A terrible trial it has been for us, but I
almost thought we had learned to say, 'Thy will, not
ours, be done.' Darling, it is best-it is best. Dry
your tears, and let our trust be in Him who is not only
a God at hand, but a God afar off." Then he kissed
her very tenderly, for the shadow of the sad past was
on him also.
When this petted son was about fourteen years of age,
he ran away from home and went to sea, and the dis-
tressed parents had heard no tidings of him for years.
They thought the pictures of sea-fights hanging in their
library, and paintings of grand tempests on the old ocean,
had first given their child a liking for the sea. This
had been the great sorrow of their life, but they never
spoke of it to one another, unless it was called forth by
some little circumstance, such as that which had occurred
this morning.
Since the captain had belonged to the revenue service,
his home had been at different sea-coast villages, and
now he was in the neighbourhood of Estleigh, a narrow
line of town running along the shore, and about thirty
miles from Burton Cray, where their son was born.
Poor Mrs. Smith! this allusion to her long-lost child
quite upset her, and burying her face on her husband's
breast, she choked back her sobs, for she knew it dis-
H
114
ALL RIGHT AT LAST.
tressed him to see her weep. Then, seeking to draw her
from her sorrow, he strove to interest her by an account
of the smuggling that, in spite of his watchfulness, was
carried on at the very spot where he was now stationed.
He told her of the fierce encounters which sometimes
took place between the revenue men and these lawless
beings. "There is a small vessel," he said, "expected
to-night, from France. They will try to run her into
Gavie's Creek with the tide. The night is moonless; and
they think Old Starry, the coastguard, will soon be over-
powered; but I fancy we shall teach them another story.
Some of the villains will find themselves elsewhere than
drinking over their ill-gotten gains to-night: but we shall
have a tussle for it. Well, I must be off, and see if I can
get more information as to their whereabouts. Good-
bye, Rosa, keep up a good heart ;" and with another kiss
he left her. And all through that day Mrs. Smith sat
with the book open on her knee, fearing and praying
for the rough old captain, and letting her thoughts
dwell on that past that seemed more than ever present
with her.
Very inviting looked the snug room of Dennis Smith's
tiny cottage; a bright fire crackled in the old-fashioned
grate, and quivered along the floor, and flickered on the
ceiling, wrapping in gold the pots of evergreens in the
small window, and causing the brass birdcage, whose
tenant was chirping to the blaze, to glow and sparkle all
over. Nor was this all. That bounding flame was
flashing on the glass doors of Jessie's cupboard, till the
old china stored there sparkled and looked young again.
It rested lovingly for a moment on Jessie's brown-golden
hair; it lit up the broad, sunburnt brow of Dennis, as he
ALL RIGHT AT LAST.
115
lay back in the great wooden easy chair, in which nestled
the soft cushions she had made for her husband.
Dennis sat looking at the wife of six months with that
gloomy, troubled expression of face which had lately
made her so unhappy. In vain she chatted nicely of the
little nothings which had made up her day: how the
black hen was sitting on her eggs at last; how busy she
had been in putting their little house to rights; what a
famous stew she had prepared for his supper, and how
Neighbour Jenkins had admired the handsome shawl he
had given her, saying it was real lace, and marvellously
good. At this piece of information his brow clouded
more deeply, and he said, snappishly, "Just like all you
women. What business had you gossiping with the pry-
ing old thing? and what does she know about lace? If
it is real, the man must have sold it in a mistake,” and
then Dennis looked more gloomy and sulky than ever.
Jessie said nothing, for she saw he was out of temper;
she prepared the supper, and he came sullenly to the
table, and sat there leaning his handsome head on his
hand, and looking strangely different from the bright
Dennis he sometimes was. All Jessie's brightness was
gone too, and the choking sensation in her throat pre-
vented her from eating. "Dennis was so queer some-
times."
When the semblance of a meal was concluded, and
Jessie began to put away the supper-things, Dennis
rose, and said, "Where's my comforter, Jess? I'm
going out."
"But, Dennis," she cried, putting aside the window-
curtains, "it begins to snow; don't go out to-night."
"I've business to do," he answered; "and when a
116
ALL RIGHT AT LAST.
fellow's got anything on hand, he can't sit staring at the
fire. I shall be back in an hour or two; don't wait up
for me;" and, without another word he was gone.
And Jessie stood at the door shivering and watching
him across the lonely common, which lay between the
cottage and the town. Then she came in and cried
very bitterly, as she wondered what had come over
Dennis, and why he was so much away at night now,
and she knelt in the light of that quivering fire, and
prayed God to shield him from harm, and lead him in
the right way; and the dancing flame brightened over
her like a glory, and she rose from her knees calmer and
stronger. Jessie had been piously brought up, and now
the sound of the leaping blaze seemed to form itself
into words, and say: "Be strong, and of good courage;
fear not, for I am with thee!"
A corner of the black lace shawl, hanging from the
drawer, attracted her attention, and as she went to lay
it smoothly, she could not resist looking over the pretty
things Dennis had given her lately, "but which he did
not like her often to wear," he said. As soon as she had
duly admired and replaced all her treasures, she seated
herself in the great chair her husband had vacated, and
soon was sleeping the sweet sleep of a child.
1
She slept calmly and soundly. On through the night
the village clock ran out the hours unheeded as she lay
wrapped in her soft and girl-like slumber; and when
she awoke, the cold dull December morning was seven
hours old. Jessie started to her feet; something was
wrong. Ah, yes she remembered now. Dennis, her
beloved, had not returned. Then came the sickening
chill, the sinking of heart that one feels on waking to
+++
A MEN, WIE HET BETEGSE. The co
SURVE
CARRYING DENNIS TO THE COTTAGE,-(See p. 120.)
1

<>-
܂
1
J
,
ALL RIGHT AT LAST.
119
sorrowful life again. In a little while the cold, grey
light began to shadow forth the objects in the room.
The fire had long since gone out, the ground was
covered with snow, and a fog hung in the air. "I must
find him," she said to herself. "I will go and ask
mother what to do;" but her thoughts were confused,
and she could not form any determinate purpose.
She
hastily wrapped around her a thick shawl, and locking
the street-door behind her, set forth across the common.
Very dreary it looked-snow everywhere, and the town
shut out by the fog. What wonder that Jessie lost her
way? She grew sadly frightened, and then she paused,
and hearing voices, endeavoured to make her way
towards them. She soon found herself at the extreme
edge of the common, the rushing, foaming sea was
beneath her, and looking down the steep cliff she dimly
discerned men fighting. Poor Jessie! her heart stood
still with fear; she seemed riveted to the spot.
At length the strife ceased, and the morning sunshine
breaking through the fog, Jessie could see the town
and the wrong direction she had taken. As she turned
to leave the spot, a groan fell upon her ear; once and
again she heard it, and looking intently down the cliff
she espied a human figure almost concealed by the
bushes that covered the steep, lying about half way
down the declivity. One instant Jessie paused to take
counsel with herself, and prayed for help; then she
bravely started for the town to try and get some one to
assist her. To some sailors loitering about, and to
some workmen going forth to their daily toil, she told
her tale, and descending the cliff with much difficulty,
they brought up the man, who was bleeding copiously
120
ALL RIGHT AT LAST.
It was her husband, her own dear
from the side.
Dennis!
Now the secret of those dark looks flashed on Jessie.
Her husband had been one in the strife between the men
of the Dauntless and the smugglers. Now she knew
how it was she had those sparkling brooches and glossy
silks. Very bitterly had she arrived at the knowledge
of the truth; but she kept her discovery to herself, and
the men thought he had fallen from the cliff.
One of them took off his great coat, and made of it
a sort of hammock, in which they placed the wounded
man, and so they went on; his wife kept close to his
side—at least, as near as she could, just outside the man
who was carrying the hammock, and in this way they
proceeded to the cottage. No fire was sparkling there
now; but, dull and cold as it was, Jessie was glad to lay
him on his own bed, and to hear him breathe a deep
sigh.
“Oh, my
""
"He lives! he lives! she exclaimed.
husband! The doctor told her she must keep very calm,
for that her husband was dangerously wounded. A
severe illness came on, during which patient Jessie was
his only nurse.
But revenue officers are not easily satisfied; they are
impracticable sort of people, and no sooner did Captain
Smith, of the Dauntless, hear that a sailor was ill at
the lower end of the town, than he thought it would be
no harm to try and get a sight of him. It was just
possible it was some fellow who had been wounded in
the fray by Gavie's Creek. These old captains are
shrewd and sharp, and the instinct was not wrong which
led him to Jessie's door. The poor thing was fright-
99
ALL RIGHT AT LAST.
121
ened to death at the idea of the captain of the revenue
cutter, Dauntless, being within her doors, but she could
not help herself. She told me afterwards she was as if
struck senseless, and she let him walk up-stairs into her
husband's chamber, without one word of remonstrance
or prohibition. The captain's manner was so quiet, and
his voice so gentle, that he did not wake the sick man,
who was sleeping.
What was it that brought that look into the old man's
eyes, and made his lips quiver, as he watched the sleeper?
There was the short upper lip, and the well-formed
Roman nose, most singularly resembling the wayward
boy he had lost so long ago; and with that sleep so
tranquil, the innocent expression of boyhood had come
back on Dennis's face.
As Captain Smith watched him gently breath-
ing, he altogether forgot the purpose for which he
came; but when the sick man moved, and turned,
and woke, the likeness seemed to melt away, and
he remembered the object of his visit.
"I am not going to commit myself, captain," Dennis
said, somewhat archly, and there was that in his voice
which sent the blood rushing to the old man's heart.
Now, indeed, he made inquiries, without any purpose
of discovering the young man's share in the fray. Who
was he? How long was it since he had left home? A
hundred persons might be called Smith, but what was
his Christian name? "Dennis!" then there was no
longer a doubt the lost one was found, and father and
son were soon clasped in each other's arms.
Jessie had been standing at the door all this time,
and when Captain Smith said, "This my son was dead
122
ALL RIGHT AT LAST.
and is alive again; was lost, and is found," she thought
he had lost his senses, and fell to sobbing and crying
from sheer terror.
The meeting between the mother and that long-lost
child is too sacred for many words. It was a joy which
found its sweetest expression in tears.
Dennis was very repentant. His father got him an
appointment in the Customs, and he prospered more by
his industry and patient work than he had ever done by
his sin.
As for Jessie, she grew, through this re-union, better
and happier than ever, and wiser, too. She could never
be persuaded to wear any of her fine things again; and
when she was in a handsome house with gilded lamps
and flaring gas, she retained her modest simplicity of
character, and loved her husband not one whit better
than when he sat in the old wooden chair, those cushions
she had wrought for him in the little room, lighted by
the quivering flame that sparkled on her gold-brown
hair.


LOST.
Emmy-A Visit to England-Life in Guatemala-The Departure arranged.
Joy of the Children-My Wife's Dream-Katzlatepec-Lynch law-
Old Mtasa's Warning-Business Settled-The Earthquake-The
Hacienda of Rio Seco-A Ruined Home-My One Ewe Lamb
Saved-Marian-Back to England.

N
EVER fear, Emmy,
love, never fear! The
Indians-poor creatures
-will not eat me; the
snakes will not bite me;
the mustang will not
throw me! For shame,
darling, to have been a
planter's wife these six-
teen years and more, and
yet to be the timid girl
you are! Only three weeks remember, between us and
dear old England!
And with a wave of my hand, and a sportive flourish,
in the Spanish style, of the broad-leaved sombrero which
I wore, I spurred away my wiry bay horse from the porch,
heavy with sweet-scented orchids and blossomed trailing
pdat
124
LOST.
roses, and rode laughingly off into the wild country that
lay beyond our tiny demesne.
I had some reason for the joyous confidence with
which, on that afternoon of early summer, I set off for
my brisk ride to the cattle corral some four Spanish
leagues away. My fortunes had never seemed so fair
and smiling as when I rode that day from my own door.
I was well off-not wealthy, certainly, but well-to-do-
and there was a certain charm attaching to the fact that
every dollar and doubloon amassed, since first I set my
foot on the shores of sun-baked Central America, re-
presented hard and honest work, wrought out bit by bit
in spite of the languor of the climate, and the terrible
temptations that beset European settlers in the tropics.
I had been very steady in the purpose with which I
had left England, after Emmy and I had exchanged our
last vows of love beside the tall hog-backed stile in the
leafy Berkshire lane which lay so near to both our homes.
P
With her tearful kisses on my cheek, I had hurried up
to London, gone on board the merchantman that first bore
me across the Atlantic, and sailed for Demerara; where,
first as clerk, then as overseer, and lastly as manager
of a thriving estate, I had learned something, and saved
the wherewithal to buy a few hundred acres of good
but untilled land in Guatemala. There was a stretch
of woodland, held from the Government of the Republic
at a long lease, a tract of prairie, and a small strip of
deep black soil, whereon the sugar-cane, the indigo
plant, the cassava, and the manioc flourished luxuri-
antly. I had bought, too, a pretty hacienda, the fine
garden of which, when first I saw it, had become a
wilderness of giant weeds, and the house, with its
LOST.
125
verandahs, a nursery for snake, scorpion, chego, and
tarantula. But the walls were of sound masonry, and
to repair the roof and the ruinous outbuildings cost but
a trifle. The garden was soon glorious with tropical
flowers, the fields crowned with the tall maize and the
feathery cane; while my knowledge of botany enabled
me to derive more profit from my forest tract, where
the mora, the purpleheart, the sugar-maple, and the
tuliptree grew contiguous to the ilex, the ironwood, and
the massive trunk of the dark-grained Honduras ma-
hogany, than could have fallen to the lot of an ordinary
European emigrant. In the course of three busy years,
not unhappily passed, I had earned enough and saved
enough to feel justified in marrying, and had taken a
holiday that I might pay a flying visit to England, per
West Indian Mail steamer, and returned to my home
in the New World with my bride beside me.
I had married rather late in life; for ours had been
one of those long engagements not uncommon in our
English middle-class society, and I was Emmy's senior
by some years; but time had not dealt unkindly with
me, and I was still active and robust, although the
eldest of our two bright boys was just fourteen; Marian,
their little sister, being the third child, and about six
years of age. As for my wife's personal appearance, I
was proud of the fact that her sweet face had changed
but very slightly since the day when first I met and
loved her. She was one of those women who preserve
their girlish freshness of complexion and slenderness of
form through long years of married life, nor had even
the hot summers of Guatemala caused one thread of
silver to mingle with the glossy braids of her nut-brown
126
LOST
hair. Our dwelling certainly stood in a more than
commonly healthy situation, on high ground and exposed
to the pure breezes that swept down through a gap in
the blue mountain wall that frowned to the eastward;
nor had there, in all the years of our stay, arisen a
serious case of illness under my roof. Those terrible
fevers, that are the bane of the fair regions of New
Spain, were all but unknown at the elevation of the lofty
table-land on which we lived. Nor had we experienced
any of those other evils for which the Central American
States have acquired a bad reputation. We had heard
of civil wars, and of Indian forays; but all that we had
seen of the first was that occasionally a few disbanded
soldiers, shoeless and ragged, came to prowl about
the district, asking alms whiningly enough, but ready,
unless their looks belied them, to play the part of
marauders if a tempting booty presented itself. As for
the Red Men, there was not, as I believe, a genuine
warrior to be found nearer than the Mosquito country
or the woods of Costa Rica; while the few shocks of
earthquake which annually occurred had never caused
any worse damage than a few casualties among the
glass and china. Still, somehow, my wife had never
ceased to long for home. Prosperous as we had been on
the sunnier side of the Atlantic, she had never learned
to love the strange land in which our tent was pitched;
and it was very much in consequence of this feeling,
that we had determined to return to England, as soon
as we had realised the means to give the children an
advantageous start in life. At last, that happy time
-long looked forward to-had come. My savings,
amounting to a larger sum in dollars and gold ounces
LOST.
127
than I could reasonably have hoped to amass in eighteen
years of patient industry, were already in safe keep-
ing, while I had concluded a treaty for the sale of my
farm, and was merely waiting till the deeds should
be drawn, and the purchase money paid, to quit the
place. We had even fixed the day for our departure
Europe-wards, and it had been arranged that the
steamer which, on the 15th of the ensuing month, was
to call at San Juan de Nicaragua on her way to the
British West Indies, should number myself and my
family among her passengers.
The children were wild with joy at the prospect of
seeing that wonderful England of which they had heard
and read so much, the island home across the waters to
which, after years of self-exile, their parents were about
to return; and the boys, in especial, were never weary
of asking questions concerning London, its vast extent
and swarming population, its sights, shows, and general
splendours; and Emmy, too, anticipated with unfeigned
delight the pleasant life in store for us in the old
country. I, on the other hand, though not naturally of
a melancholy disposition, felt unaccountably depressed
and ill at ease, so that my sad looks and thoughtful
aspect more than once had the involuntary effect of
damping the innocent mirth of those whom I loved
so well. I did my best, however, to struggle against
the gloomy forebodings of some coming evil that beset
me; but if by an effort of the will I succeeded in
banishing these dark thoughts for a time, they were
sure to return and haunt me as pertinaciously as before.
And yet there was no rational cause for any alarm. The
country was in a peaceful condition, and we heard no
128
LOST.
rumours of either war or pestilence to justify my form-
less fears.
Never had the fair, broad face of Nature seemed to
smile more genially upon me than on the brilliant
morning on which I set off to pay a long-projected visit
to the cattle station which I had established on an out-
lying savannah, at some distance from the rest of the
property, and which was in charge of a gaunt Texan, a
character in his way, and in whom I could put more
dependence than in the indolent natives of the country.
I had taken myself soundly to task for my late unrea-
sonable depression, and for awhile at least had shaken
off the black load of care which had for some weeks
oppressed me. Oddly enough, my wife, usually the
cheeriest and blithest of us all, was on that day unusually
timorous and low-spirited, and actually tried to dissuade
me from riding across to the cattle corral; although the
route was one quite as safe, at that season, as Regent
Street itself. At last I elicited from her the fact that
it was a dream, curious and vivid, but still only a
dream, which was the cause of her agitation. It was
not without some reluctance that she could be induced
to narrate the subject of this dream, which I will set
down in her own words.
"I thought, Willy, that I was at home again—the
old home, I mean, down in Berkshire-and I saw the
dear old place looking prettier even than I remember
it, as though to welcome me back. The hedgerows
were in leaf, and so were the tall elms in the parsonage
garden; and there was the little lawn, as trim and
smooth as velvet, and the ivy clustering over the porch,
and the tiny wicket gate where I used to wait for you,
LOST.
129
:
1
and the dogs coming whimpering and bounding up to
greet me. There were my sisters, too, and poor papa,
and many another kind face gone for ever, and
Here she broke down, sobbing; and I put my arm.
round her, and let her nestle her dear head on my
shoulder, and soothed her till her tears were dried.
"But that is not all, Wilfred," she said earnestly;
“what made the strongest impression on me was that
just as I crossed the lane, and stretched out my hand
to lift the well-known latch of the little gate, the earth
seemed to heave and surge beneath my feet, and the
sun glared blood-red through a cloud of whirling sand,
as it did in the dust-storm we saw in travelling here—
you remember, Willy-at Las Roccas Vermejas, in Nica-
ragua. And then the solid ground split asunder and
a yawning chasm, widening every moment, barred the
road between me and the house in which I was born,
and the English hedgerows changed to palms and aloe-
trees, and I was here, and sinking, sinking, as though
into my grave; and I cried to you, husband, and you
were not with me, and-and-I am very silly, but I
wish, dear, I do wish that you would not ride out to-
day to the corral. I feel as if some harm would happen,
to you, Willy- not to me. I'm not a coward for my-
self, but for you or the children I am timid enough.
Stay quietly at home to-day, to please Emmy?
But I could not yield to my wife's wish on this
occasion, and I laughed at her fears, and counterfeited a
more buoyant spirit than that which actually possessed
me, At the cattle station I was to meet with a rich
Spanish grazier, one Don Ramon, who would be willing
to take the whole herd off my hands, and I was some-
I
""
ور
130
LOST.
what eager to convert the live-stock into hard cash and
to pay off my Texan superintendent and the staff of
Indian half-breeds that worked under his orders. I rode
away, therefore; but as I passed through the open gate-
way that formed the only means of access to the garden,
shut in by a towering hedge of thorny mezquite, I looked
back and waved my hand. How well I remember that
peaceful scene!-the snow-white walls of the pretty villa,
the plash of the fountain beneath the palmetto-trees,
the blaze of tropical flowers, the limes, bananas, and
plantains, with their wealth of fruit; the children
gathered on the lower of the two broad stone steps in
front of the open door, while on the higher one stood my
wife waving her hankerchief to me in token of adieu.
My heart has ached many a time as memory has
reproduced, only too faithfully, that picture.
Within sight of the hacienda was a rocky height of
singular boldness, and of a conical form-an extinct
volcano, at the foot of which had once, according to
tradition, stood a populous Indian city, a sort of trans-
Atlantic Pompeii as regarded its fate, since it had been
overwhelmed by showers of burning scoriæ, centuries
before the date of the Spanish conquest. The mountain,
with its fringe of lava-beds, and its crater overgrown with
thorny cacti and sumach-bushes, had long been cold and
quiescent; but it was commonly known by the name
once borne by the buried city, Tlatzlatepec, and was one
of the most picturesque features of the landscape when
viewed from Rio Seco, as my habitation was called.
The Indians who still dwelt at the base of the hill were
but a handful of miserable creatures, who earned a
precarious livelihood by weaving baskets, or selling fish
LOST.
131
and faggots of dry sticks to the white settlers, and who
were known to be inveterate beggars, and shrewdly
suspected to be thieves. These squalid survivors of a
once haughty tribe had little love for the pale-faces who
had wrested from their race what had once been their
maize-patches and hunting-grounds; but I was on toler-
ably amicable terms with them, having once chanced
to render a service to an aged squaw named Mtasa, who
was respected among her people as the descendant of
a line of their former caciques, and whom we used
jestingly to call their queen.
The occurrence, such as it was, was briefly this. In
one of my rides across the more wooded country to the
eastward, I had come upon a camp of gold-diggers from
California, whom some auriferous rumour had tempted
to try their luck among the gulches of Guate-
mala. Perhaps ill-success had soured the tempers of
these rough fellows, for I found them in the very act of
hanging up, to a forked branch of an evergreen oak,
an Indian lad of some fourteen or fifteen years of age,
the still writhing body of whose elder brother dangled
from a similar tree at no great distance; while a tall
squaw, whose white hair streamed over her shoulders
like that of a Pythoness, was volubly but vainly
imploring in broken Spanish, mercy for the younger of
her two grandsons.
"Guess it's all right, mister," was the gruff answer of
the spokesman to my inquiries; "we caught the cop-
per-coloured vermin prowling about, and trying to undo
the heel-ropes of a horse. Judge Lynch's law is good
enough, I expect, for such thieving scum; and ef the
greasers of this hyar republic can't keep their red-skins
132
LOST.
from stealing, p'raps a twelve-foot lariat of tough hide
kin cure 'em of it."
And hanged the unlucky stripling would have been,
but for the fortunate circumstance that my Texan cattle-
manager, who was in my company, recognised a former
associate among the party, and that at our joint
entreaty the lad's life was spared.
To my great surprise, on passing the Indian village,
I found the whole tawny population astir, and evidently
making haste to quit their abodes; while conspicuous
among them was the tall, weird-looking form of old
Mtasa, wrapped in her dark blue blanket, and laden, as
were the rest of the community, with portable property
of a miscellaneous order-fish-spears, racoon-skins, and
bundles of gay-coloured hankerchiefs, or worn-out
fragments of European attire, being oddly mingled. In
answer to my expressions of surprise at this hurried
flitting, the old woman drew herself up to her full
height, and stretched out her arm, not without a certain
air of savage dignity, towards the mountain that loomed
overhead.
"You pale men," she said, in her disjointed Castilian,
"think us poor Indians fools because we cling to the
habits of our forefathers, and believe in our own tradi-
tions. But it was a wise cacique of old who bade our
people, when they should see the smoke of Tlatzlatepec,
not to linger over-long within its shadow. See!"
And in effect, on looking up, I saw hovering above
the crest of the extinct volcano a faint, curling wreath
of white vapour, so slight as to have hitherto escaped
my attention.
"No, no!" exclaimed Mtasa vehemently; "this is

CAZONI!
W
MTASA POINTED TOWARDS THE MOUNTAIN.—(See p. 132.)
C
..
-41
}
LOST.
135
no trick; no accident from the dropping of a firebrand
on dried grass. The fire from which yonder smoke
rises was never kindled by human hands. It bodes no
good, señor."
And, with a grim smile and a nod, the aged sibyl
turned away, and joined the onward march of the
remnant of her tribe. Somewhat perplexed, but disposed
to attribute this mystic warning to some lingering
superstition yet current among this degraded race, I
rode on. I reached the cattle station in good time, and
before the sloping sun was low in the sky, remounted
my horse to return home. My oxen were sold, my
men paid off, and I had just received from the Texan a
hearty handshake which made my fingers tingle, and
from the Spanish grazier a bow that would have graced a
court accompanied by an " A Dios, Cabalero." So far,
all was well, and as I felt my mettled horse bound
beneath me on his homeward route across the springy
turf of the prairie, my spirits rose, and cheering on
the mustang, I took a boyish pleasure in the scamper
across the boundless tract of flower-enamelled pasture.
Suddenly my steed came to a halt, as though he had
been thrown back upon his haunches by the pressure of
a powerful bit. Trembling in every limb, with quiver-
ing flanks and drooping head, he seemed paralysed by
the immediate presence of some danger, viewless to me.
I tried the spur, but in vain, nor were caresses more
efficacious, while the cause of this singular trepidation
was beyond my power of guessing until, lifting my eyes
towards the eastern sky, I beheld a dusky mass of smoke
hoisted, like the Black Flag of Death, over the soaring
peak of the volcano. Then the remembrance of the half-
136
LOST.
heeded words of the old Indian woman rushed in upon
me, just as a herd of black-skinned, half-wild buffaloes
came galloping past, with every sign of bovine terror;
and immediately afterwards I experienced a rocking
sensation, while three or four frightened voices of half-
breed herdsmen cried out, in shrill tones, "El tiemblo!
Mercy mercy for the souls of those who are about to
die, blessed San Jago, and-" I heard no more, for
there was a roar as though a thousand cannon had been
discharged, and the dust rose in whirling clouds, and
the solid earth seemed changed to surging water, so did
it heave and roll.
How long the earthquake lasted, I cannot tell. I only
know that when the last dread shock had ceased to
make the ground vibrate beneath us, I found myself
lying, unhurt, beside my moaning horse, which sobbed
and cowered down like a terrified dog, and could with
difficulty be induced to rise. The sinking sun threw a
ruddy glare across the deserted plain, and over the
mountain of Tlatzlatepec still floated the darkling cloud
of smoke. Springing to my saddle, and urging on my
horse with voice and hand, I rode swiftly on towards the
hacienda, eager to see and reassure its beloved inmates;
while, as I sped onwards, many a token such as uprooted
trees, rocks overthrown, or springs that had newly
gushed forth from the shaken earth-crust, proved over
how wide a region the convulsion had run its course.
And then for the first time there stole into my mind a
terrible thought. During my stay in the country no
such earthquake had been known as that from which I
had so narrowly escaped. How if the hacienda of Rio
Seco had itself lain in the track of the heaving earth-
LOST.
137
wave that had strewn the district with ruin! And as
the very blood in my veins grew chill in presence of
the formless fear thus conjured up, I forced on my reek-
ing steed with whip and spur until his pace was a
furious one. The swift gallop seemed to brace my
nerves and to revive my drooping spirits. Once round
yonder angle of rock, and I should be in sight of home.
I rounded the jutting rock, and was now within the
boundary of my own small domain; but, to my horror,
I could see no trace of the fair white walls of the
hacienda, its lofty shade-trees, or the blooming garden and
the busy farmyard that had flanked it. Half incredulously
I looked around me. Yes, there were the familiar
landmarks the towering cliffs, the mountain pass, the
lagoon, the groves, and the bold summit of the volcano
in the distance; but house and garden and outbuildings
were gone, as if they had been swept away by the spell
of a magician. I set my teeth and spurred on; but,
before I had ridden far, my road was barred by a ghastly
fissure that seamed the solid earth, the depth of
which my eyes could not fathom, while its utmost
width might have been some six or seven yards. This
yawning chasm ran to left and right, and I had to fol-
low its course for nearly half a mile, until it narrowed
so much that I could venture to force my frightened
horse to take the leap. A few minutes more-they
seemed ages to me--and I had dismounted in the
midst of a few irregularly shaped mounds and broken
tree-trunks, protruding from the ground, which marked
the place where must have stood my house—the happy
home which I had that morning left.
I stood for awhile bewildered, as by some hideous
138
LOST.
dream; and when I contrived to speak, my own voice
sounded harsh and strange to my ear. I called aloud
upon my wife's name; but there was no answer. Wife
and children, home, and all that home held, living or
inanimate, had been blotted from the face of the world
at one fell swoop! The Destroyer had passed by, and
the victims were hidden away for ever from the eyes
of men. Slowly, very slowly, did I realise the full
bitterness of the great calamity that had blighted all the
promise of my remaining life. The wife I loved, the
high-spirited, affectionate boys, of whom I was so fond
and proud, the little daughter who had been so dear
both to her mother and myself; it seemed hard and
shocking, almost unnatural, that I should never see
them more. They were gone for ever; and I, left alone
in the world, stood above the grave that had swallowed
them alive into its hungry depths, and could bring
them no aid—was powerless to help-had help indeed
been possible.
From one heap of ruin to another I wandered, calling
aloud on the dear, dear names, but my voice died away
in the dull stillness of the sultry air. The sun was
sinking westwards, in the gorgeous flame of many
coloured glory that accompanies his setting in those
tropical latitudes, and well I knew that soon the stars.
would twinkle overhead, and the glorious Southern night
succeed to the fiery day.
Ha! what was that? Surely a faint cry, such as
the plaintive bleat of some stray lamb borne away by a
snow-swollen torrent; and, crushed beneath the flower-
laden branches of an uptorn magnolia-bush, I caught a
glimpse of something white, a fragment of tattered
LOST.
139
muslin, and rushing to the spot, I drew forth from be-
neath the fallen shrubs, more dead than alive, a tiny,
childish creature, with her sweet little face blanched
by terror, and her golden curls hanging dishevelled.
But it was Marian-my one ewe lamb saved from
the jaws of death-my own darling child, and as I
held the priceless treasure in my strong arms, and saw
the blue eyes open with a glance of recognition, I knelt
on the torn and upheaved ground, and gave thanks
to God for having spared her to me.
It was but little that the innocent child could tell me of
the horrible catastrophe in which all but herself had per-
ished. Mamma, she said, had kissed her but a few minutes
earlier than the first shock's coming, and had left her, bid-
ding her play in the garden, and keep watch for the return
of "dear papa." And then came the darkness, and the
hurling down of trees, and the crash, and the shrieking,
and nothing more could Marian remember, until the mo-
ment when she found herself in my arms, and was safe.
And I have little more to tell, save how I returned to
England with the one child left to me, and who has never
since that day of dread been absent from me for more
than a few hours-the light of my old eyes, into which
tears often rise unbidden, as some gesture, some glance,
reminds me of her lost mother, the unforgotten love of
my youth. How dear to me is Marian, none who have
not gone through the anguish of a bereavement such as
mine can tell; but I am not selfish, I hope, in my
fondness, and shall doubtless ere long surrender my
treasure to a husband worthy of her, even though there
seems to remain nothing more for me to live for.
J. BERWICK HARWOOD.

dela, And
man kan man aber i m
MY BALLOON ADVENTURE.
Min mamma sath king mga
""
có hành theo đ
• - J
KAMA PEN tomato dangan
De aangaan a
• Kovalama AN AD VAN
– Valor da vart
DONËSE
L
A q
-
samal Kanga amante Verano gl
"Le Roi des Airs-A Fall Down-stairs-Defiance-M. de Villeneuve-
The Gendarmes-Off-A pleasant Companion-Spain-The Thun-
der Storm-We Strike a Rock-Risque-son-cou Killed-The Military
Hospital-My Fortune made.

OU, and you alone,
Ned, can save me.
It's my bread, the
balloon is, and not
mine only, but
that of little Polly
at school, far away
in England there.
And they'll make
no more of ripping
the Defiance to
ribbons than I
would of chipping
the shell of an
egg at breakfast,
those peppery Marseillais!
The situation was, to say the least of it, exceedingly
awkward. It was the evening of a fete-day, in brilliant,
MY BALLOON ADVENTURE.
141
}
sultry autumn weather, such as may be looked for in
the south of France; and the Ducasse, or local festival
of St. Maure, a village lying on the coast some two
leagues eastward of Marseilles, had drawn thither a
swarm of the population of the old Phocœan city.
There was dancing in progress-the merry twang of
the fiddles, floating upwards through the vine-tendrils
that hung across the open window, reached my ears
as I stood beside the bed-but the great attraction of
the evening's entertainment was to be a balloon ascent,
in the midst of fireworks, on the part of an English
aëronaut who, in the glowing language of the handbills
and posters that had for ten days past advertised the
trip, was described as "the famous, the intrepid, Oliver
Killick, le Roi des Airs."
As for myself, I was simply a young English artist,
Edward Holmes by name, not long since returned from
a protracted course of art-study in Rome, and who found
it hard enough, by touching up photographs, "finishing"
the sketches of amateurs, and taking, at the lowest rate
of remuneration, the portrait of whoever favoured me
with a sitting, to procure the wherewithal to live. I
had been accidentally thrown a good deal into the
company of Mr. Killick, who had for some time been
exhibiting his balloon in various towns of the south, and
who had shown me some kindness, as a fellow-country-
man; while I on my part had a regard for the old
man, whose quaint anecdotes of his experiences as a
travelling balloonist were often amusing, and half of
whose earnings, as I knew, were sent home for the
benefit of his little grandchild.
And now a serious difficulty had, at the last moment,
142
MY BALLOON ADVENTURE.
arisen. There, in the garden of the village inn, fenced
off by ropes and stakes from the pressure of the crowd
that surged around, was the Defiance, fully inflated,
straining at the cords that fastened it to earth, and
ready for use, while on his bed lay the unlucky "King
of the air," groaning and disabled. He had sent for me
to visit him in his room shortly after the occurrence of
the accident--it was a mere stumble over a loose plank,
and a fall down-stairs-and though I sympathised with
him most sincerely, I had been quite at a loss for an
expedient. Mr. Killick was a heavy elderly man, and
in the fall had severely sprained his right wrist and
injured his thumb, besides receiving a cut on the right
temple, from which the blood slowly trickled.
"That's nothing," he said half querulously, as I ex-
amined the hurt; " I've had worse in touching ground,
many's the day. It's the thumb that does signify,
the thumb and the wrist. I can't handle the valve
ropes with this crippled arm any more than a school-
girl could do it. And what's to happen now?"
My first idea was that the accident, and the con-
sequent inability of the balloonist to give the promised
exhibition, should be notified, and an apology made to
the public; but the veteran decidedly negatived this
apparently obvious proceeding. He reminded me of
the irascible character of a mob everywhere, and above
all of a Southern French mob, and assured me of
what I could readily believe, that no excuse would
be accepted by the fiery Marseillais, baulked of the
long-looked for treat of an ascent. They would
certainly destroy the balloon, and not improbably
execute lynch-law in some form on the aëronaut, while
MY BALLOON ADVENTURE.
143
the very loss of the Defiance would be a serious
disaster to its owner. Then, too, a rich landed pro-
prietor of the neighbourhood-a vain young man,
with a taste for notoriety-had offered fifteen louis-d'or
to be taken up as a passenger; and to disappoint M.
Victor de Villeneuve, and lose three hundred francs,
was also an unwelcome contingency.
To my very great surprise Mr. Killick proposed
that I should go up in his stead, and undertake for
the occasion the office of aëronaut. I had indeed
accompanied him, while we were both at Nice, in two
short ascents, and had learned from him to manage the
valves and ballast, the rudiments of the art of ballooning.
I was young, active, and had a steady head, and the
owner of the Defiance was quite willing to entrust
her to me, if I would but so far oblige him. I have
never been quite able satisfactorily to explain to myself
how it was that I was startled or cajoled into assent-
ing. Perhaps the novelty of the notion, acting on a
somewhat adventurous fancy, made me yield more
readily to the old man's entreaty than would otherwise
have been the case. I said, "Yes," and was held to my
word.
"Hist! walls have ears, and certainly arbours have,"
whispered the landlord of the inn, as he led me
cautiously round by the back door into the partially
illuminated space without. Wrap your overcoat well
about you, and hide your face with this red hand-
kerchief. We mustn't let the people see as yet it's a
raw hand that's to go aloft. Tron de l'air! once up,
we can laugh it off." This was all very well for the
innkeeper, whose only wish was to keep the rabble
144
MY BALLOON ADVENTURE.
in good humour, and avoid a riot, which might lead to
the pillage of his cellar and the demolition of his
furniture, but I began inwardly to question the wisdom
of my own choice.
However, it was too late to withdraw. One glance at
the sea of keen, olive-complexioned faces, the flashing
eyes and impassioned gestures of the spectators, was
enough to show the risk that would attend the giving
of wilful offence. I could have imagined much such
a throng gathered around the blood-stained arena of
old Rome. They were gay enough, laughing blithely,
but it would not have required much to arouse the vol-
canic fires that slumbered beneath that joyous aspect.
There was the Defiance, majestically poised above
the ground like a vessel riding at anchor. There was
nothing for it but to carry out, as best I might, the
madcap enterprise on which I had embarked.
"Come, you had better get into the car, and be
ready," said the landlord, still in an undertone, as he
passed me through the cordon of police that kept back
the foremost of the spectators. "Don't talk, but if
anybody speaks to you, wave a flag-that does as well.
M. de Villeneuve writes me word he'll not arrive till
the last moment, when we start the fireworks. As soon
as he's beside you, up you go, remember."
I was now in the rocking, swaying car, and stooping
down, I ascertained that the bags of ballast, the coil of
spare rope, the flags, and telescope were at my feet;
then I assured myself that the grapnel was provided
with its tough cord, and then the whizz of a rocket,
and a descending shower of coloured spangles of fire
gave a warning note of preparation.
MY BALLOON ADVENTURE.
145
More rockets now soared aloft, amidst the huzzas
of the crowd, and then, springing from the driving-seat
of a light open carriage drawn by a grey horse, there
appeared the figure of a stout, well-dressed man, who
elbowed his way so quickly through the throng that
I had scarcely time to conjecture that this must be the
volunteer companion of my aërial voyage, M. Victor
de Villeneuve, before he scrambled into the car, and
was at my side.
"Allons, let go, mes braves!" he cried, in a sharp
imperious tone, to the men who held the ropes. "Bas
les cordes! do you hear?"
A voice raised in accents of command seldom fails of
its effect, however questionable may be the right of him
who uplifts it, and the men addressed, in their astonish-
ment, mechanically obeyed. The balloon rose a little,
nothing now restraining its upward flight save the
trigger-cord, firmly moored to a post below, the spring
being in my grasp.
"Montons, camarade! Off we go!" exclaimed the
passenger, with a jovial laugh that had scarcely the ring
of honest mirth in it.
Perhaps M. de Villeneuve, for all his swaggering
deportment, was ill at ease as to the results of our
voyage, and strove to carry it off gaily; such were my
thoughts as the Catherine wheels began to revolve in
cascades of whirling fire, and the crowd to cheer. It
was the moment for our start, but I hesitated to pull the
trigger, for now a strange bustle and confusion below
attracted my attention.
A mounted gendarme, his sabre and carbine clanking,
had ridden up at the full gallop of his reeking horse,
K
146
MY BALLOON ADVENTURE.
followed at some distance by three others, who spurred
furiously forward. There were a few hurried questions,
then a smothered outcry, a roar of voices, and a swaying
backwards and forwards of the excited populace.
I looked down at the crowd of upturned faces.
"Stop! stop! Au nom de la loi! Englishman,
stay!" cried out the brigadier of the foot-police.
"Let go, fool!" thundered the man who sat beside
me in the car.
"But it is the police that" I began, thinking
that M. de Villeneuve had suddenly taken leave of his
senses.
"Come down! stop-haul the rope!" was the shout.
from below; but as the words reached my ear, my
companion bent forward. Something flashed in his
hand-a dagger-knife-and the cord was cut, and the
balloon darted upwards.
"In the name of the law-ah! you won't? Tiens!
cried a gendarme, discharging his carbine, an example
that was followed by his comrades; but the balls whistled
idly by, while we rose and rose, until the inn, and the
gardens, and the shouting crowd and the sputtering
fireworks had diminished to pigmy size, and presently
disappeared altogether, and the balloon rode on, solitary,
through the fields of air.
66 A
"A nous deux, maintenant!" said M. de Villeneuve,
with a chuckle that was incomprehensible to me.
singular salute our friends gave us, eh, when they bade
us bon voyage?"
The moon, half full, had now risen, and I could see
the face of my companion-the swarthy, keen face of
a man forty years of age, with short dark hair,

jumaa ja tema per
bas gadatie m
kapi dengêm të matem
·
Ma per a
ད་ཡན་
(2
ܬܤܤܟܤܐ
15
AYLOR:
"THE CORD WAS CUT, AND THE BALLOON DARTED UPWARDS."--(See p. 448.)
Į
15.
✓
ว
*
;)
>
MY BALLOON ADVENTURE.
149
slightly grizzled, fiery black eyes, and very white,
strong, sharp-pointed teeth, which gave him, when he
smiled, somewhat the expression of a laughing wolf.
He was a man of powerful frame, and the fingers of the
gloved hand which he now laid upon my arm were as
strong and supple as steel.
66
Avow," said this strange passenger, with a grin
that an ogre might have envied, "avow that you take
me for a queer specimen of the French provincial gen-
try, hein? But first, how comes it that the père Kil-
lick is absent, and a blanc-bec of your age has the
honour to be my pilot?"
I told him briefly, and in offended tones, what had
occurred, and how it was that he and I found ourselves
together so far above terra firma, at the same time
cautioning him not, as he had done before, to take it.
on himself to interfere with the management of the
balloon."
"We must now," I added, "look out for a place to
descend, for the wind is freshening, and-"
"Let it freshen!" rudely interrupted M. de Ville-
"Sets fair for Spain, does it not?
""
-
neuve.
"For Spain?" I echoed in surprise. Could this self-
conceited country gentleman really deem that we were
bound on such a journey as that? I could not help
laughing as I said, "Why for Spain, monsieur?”
"Well, Italy would have served me as well, had the
wind been a westerly one. I talk both languages
equally, and know every wine-shop in Cadiz as well as
I do those of Genoa," answered M. de Villeneuve, again
chuckling. "Ha, lad! what are you about, that you
finger that rope?"
150
MY BALLOON ADVENTURE.
"I am opening the valve above," I answered coldly,
"because it is time now to sink to a lower level, and
descend-"
"Descend, eh?" briskly put in my fellow-voyager,
"We may as well understand each other at once.
Hands off the rope, I say, if you would keep the roof
on your skull," he added threateningly, as he drew a
revolver from within his waistcoat, and deliberately
pointed the barrel at my head, "I'll show you who's
captain up here."
My brain reeled and my blood ran cold, as the horrid
thought flashed upon me that I was, at that fearful
height above the earth, in company with a madman.
Nothing, surely, save insanity could account for the
extraordinary behaviour of M. de Villeneuve.
But I suppose I put a tolerably good countenance
on the matter, for my formidable companion laughed
again, but less ill-naturedly, as he said—
"You face it out well, boy. I like a youngster who
shows a heart somewhat bigger than a chicken's. And
I'm not so bad as I look-never do this!"-he drew
his hand as he spoke edgeways, with a meaning gesture,
across his throat- "when I can get my little profits
by quieter means. But you stare at me as if I were
a mountebank selling quack medicines. Can you guess
why those gendarmes were so peremptory an hour ago?
Because they wanted the pleasure of my company back
to Toulon, that's all. Did you never hear, Anglais,
of Risque-son-cou?"
"Risque-son-cou?" I repeated in perplexity.
“
"Ay, Pierre Paul Grincheux, if you please, dit Risque-
son-cou," said the man, with an odd sort of pride;
'
MY BALLOON ADVENTURE.
151
"its a name, if you read the reports of our tribunals,
that you may have met with. Toulon, Brest, Lambessa
-I know every one of those charming retreats like my
pocket. I have had enough sea-air for one while, so I
gave myself leave of absence."
And then I remembered to have seen a paragraph in
a local paper announcing the escape from Toulon of a
criminal of the worst and most dangerous type, who had
not as yet been recaptured, and whose grotesque nick-
name of Neck-or-nothing had been earned by fifty prison-
breakings and hair-breadth evasions from justice. And
here was I, Edward Holmes, artist, voyaging by night
in a balloon, in company with a runaway galley-slave,
well armed with knife and pistol, and more than a
match in strength for me, even had he been less well
provided!
My terrible companion was only too much disposed
to be talkative; and as we swept onwards before the
freshening wind, he was kind enough to favour me with
a few brief anecdotes of his past career, in which the
jocose and the horrible seemed to mingle in cynic con-
fusion. The one point on which he was uncommunica-
tive was the manner of his recent escape from Toulon;
or how—probably owing to the complicity of others—
he became possessed of his weapons. But he told
graphically of the ten days of hardship and hunger
which he had endured while skulking among the rocky
hills by night, and lying hidden among thorny brakes
by day, until at last he broke into a pæan of triumph
in relating how he had encountered and robbed the
true M. de Villeneuve on his way to the village fête.
"Twenty shining naps in his purse, the idiot!" he
152
MY BALLOON ADVENTURE.
said exultingly, “and three thousand francs besides in
notes. Well, well! I left him gagged and bound to a
tree, after I had taken the freedom to change clothes
with him; and there he stands, no doubt, trembling,
but fortunate to keep a whole skin. And I found in his
pocket the letter of M. Killick, promising to take him
as a passenger in the balloon here, and so-
""
And so the idea had presented itself to this daring
and ready-witted ruffian to personate the victim of his
recent robbery, and thus to procure the means of flight
in what was certainly an unexampled fashion, while I
was the luckless scapegoat of his audacious enterprise.
Meanwhile the wind, as I have said, was rising, and
as we hurried on, I looked downwards and saw by the
shimmer of the moonlight on the tremulous waves that
the sea was below us. I could not forbear from an
exclamation of dismay.
The desperado at my side also looked down.
"Bah! sea or land-what matters it?" he said
recklessly. "Throw out ballast; do you hear me?"
and unwillingly I complied.
The balloon instantly rose, and it presently became
perceptibly colder, so that I shivered, and had to chafe
my hands together to prevent them from stiffening.
My companion's iron frame showed no signs of suffering
from the abrupt lowering of the temperature; but after
a time the Defiance seemed to be nearer to the sea, for
I heard the low roar of the waves; and then Risque-
son-cou impatiently flung out another bag of ballast,
and we rose.
Vague, like the visions of a dream, are my recollec-
tions of the voyage of that miserable night, spent
MY BALLOON ADVENTURE.
153
thus, and in such company. I suffered much from
cold and fatigue, and it was mechanically that I
obeyed the directions of the escaped galley-slave, who
had now assumed the command. There was no doubt
about the fixity of his determination to continue the
desperate flight until we should be across the French
frontier. How long our aërial journey might prove,
undertaken as it was without warm clothing, provisions,
or brandy, I could not conjecture, while it was certain
that we were hurrying along at a swift pace-how
swift I had no means of calculating-before the pressure
of the strong wind.
So far as I could tell, the direction of the wind was
a uniform one, steadily from north-east by east. The
sea which I had seen beneath us was, no doubt, a part
of the Gulf, lying somewhere between the mouths of
the river Rhone and the Spanish border, but the
remainder of our route was, in theory, mere guesswork.
A slight shift in the wind might cause us to be carried
out into the broad Mediterranean-even, did we but drift
beyond the Straits, into the broader Atlantic, to perish,
as many a balloon voyager has done without a record of
his fate. Whereabouts we were I could not tell. The
dark, blurred outlines of what lay beneath seemed to
indicate hills and woods, not sea.
"If we come down in France, my young friend," said
the strident voice of the escaped convict, as we floated
through masses of misty vapour, the condensed moisture
of which wetted me to the skin, "you may bid adieu to
whatever home ties and British affections your insular
heart may cherish. It's no fault of yours, you
will say, if the wind carries this flapping gas-bag to
154
MY BALLOON ADVENTURE.
Poitou or the Nivernais. No, but is Risque-son-cou to
wait while the young Englishman crawls to the nearest
brigade of gendarmerie to give notice that his fellow-
traveller was Peter Paul Grincheux, forçat en rupture de
ban? Thank you. I prefer to keep my own counsel.
So sure as we drop where Napoleon is emperor and the
Official Journal posted on the walls of the Poste de
Police, I prove that one can keep a secret better than
two."
I am not, I hope, unduly timorous, but I own that my
heart sank within me as I heard these words, uttered
with an emphatic ferocity which left no doubt of the
speaker's stern resolve. I had fully made up my mind,
should the desperado at my side begin to realise his
threats, that I would not be by any means passive in the
struggle; but his weapons and his strength left little
hope of a satisfactory ending to such a contest.
"There's something wrong with the valves," said my
companion roughly, an hour later; "the gas, diable!
is coming down, and we are sinking. It's for you,
aëronaut, to ascend the netting and stop the escape of
the gas."
""
I was very reluctant to obey. To climb the netting
of a balloon, when at a great height above the earth, is
never a very pleasant task; but to do so, leaving behind
me a ruffian who might at any moment pistol or stab
me as I descended, thus relieving himself from an incon-
venient witness, was indeed irksome. However, Risque-
son-cou evinced such vehement pertinacity, and swore
so many grisly oaths, that at last I complied; and,
having adjusted the valve, crept back to the car, sick
and giddy, but unhurt,
MY BALLOON ADVENTURE.
155
The moon had faded away. There were pale crimson
streaks in what I took to be the eastern sky, and below
lay piled-up gloomy masses of black cloud, through
which gleamed at intervals something white and lustrous,
like the marble pinnacles of the cathedral at Milan.
We're steering straight. Fatality, for once, befriends
me," exclaimed the desperate sharer of my journey, "for,
mille bombes! those are the peaks of the Eastern
Pyrenees. Chuck over ballast, boy. Don't let us ground
on them."
"We were, in reality, floating amongst the serrated
summits and snow-clad mountain-tops of the huge chain
of mountains that forms a natural barrier between Gaul
and Spain. Below, the sullen cloud-banks menaced ele-
mental war, and already low-muttering growls of thunder
reverberated among the serrated ridges beneath us."
“Throw over more ballast," commanded my ruffianly
companion.
I flung out, with some misgivings, the remainder of
the last bag of sand and small pebbles, but the Defiance
did not rise with its former buoyancy. Much gas had
been lost. The once smooth surface of the silk, painted
in gaudy stripes of pink and blue, was wrinkled now, and
fluttered loosely in irregular festoons. More than once
it seemed as though we must be dashed against some one
of the towering peaks above which the balloon slowly
revolved.
Crash after crash, peal upon peal, rang out the deep
diapason of the thunder, echoed from glen to glen, and
from ridge to ridge, while far and wide the lightning
sent its flaming arrows across the darkling sky. How
strange it was to see beneath us those forked shafts of
156
MY BALLOON ADVENTURE.
dazzling light, to hear from beneath us those awful rolls
of heaven's own terrible artillery, and to float helplessly
above the raging tempest!
Day had broken; the sun was rising, red and angry,
in the stormy eastern sky, and as a current of air wafted
the balloon rapidly forward, I could dimly distinguish
forest, and meadow, and spurs of wood-clothed hills, lying
to the southward of us. The snowy peaks, rosy-pink in
the morning radiance, were being gradually left behind us.
"Hurrah! as you say, you other islanders,” cried
out the galley-slave triumphantly, as he too scanned
the landscape. "Vive la joie! We're well across the
frontier now, and Pierre Paul Grincheux is as safe as
any other Frenchman from the odious summons to
trudge back to the chain-gang, and the rattan of the
garde-chiourme! Thank your stars, Englishman—”
A stunning peal of thunder cut short his boastful
discourse, and as it did so the Defiance heeled over,
and was driven like a dead leaf before the gale, by the
sudden rush of a mighty wind, that bore us almost to
the surface of the ground, and hurried us along with
head-long rapidity. Fields, woodlands, houses, seemed
to pass us by with feverish haste, and still we sped
onwards, so near now to the earth that I momentarily
expected that we should become entangled among the
trees that loomed so near us.
What was that, like a river of glancing water, on the
dusty high road beneath us, the yellow road like a
ribbon winding amid rocks and thickets? Troops on
the march, no doubt, the sunlight glinting on their
bayonets. I could see that as we approached they
came confusedly to a halt.

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"THE DEFIANCE' HEELED OVER."-(See p. 156.)
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MY BALLOON ADVENTURE.
159
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"Again, hurrah!" shouted the galley-slave.
cheer, noble Spaniards, for your guest, Pierre Paul, now
safely—
As he spoke I saw the earth very near us, saw the
soldiers run to right and left, as though to clear the
way for our passage, and then, with a sickening crash,
the balloon and the car seemed to strike against a rock,
and a thousand sparks of fire filled my bewildered
eyes, and then all grew dark.
"He'll live, this one, never fear," said a cheery voice
speaking in the Spanish language, which I partially
understood, as I awoke to find myself lying upon a
truckle-bed in a wayside cottage, surrounded by a
group of officers, while a regimental surgeon was
feeling my pulse. "Give him a few more drops of the
brandy! Only a couple of ribs the worse, I think."
and the man who was with me?" I asked
66 And-
feebly.
The doctor shook his head.
Not your father or your brother, I trust, caballero?
he said. "Ah, then, I may tell you that his head was
dashed against the rock, and his neck-a tough one,
by-the-by-very effectually dislocated.
And so it was; Risque-son-cou had shared the
proverbial fate of the pitcher that goes too often to
the well.
""
Strange to say, my fortune was, to a qualified extent,
made by the accident which had so nearly put an end
altogether to my worldly anxieties. The kind pro-
tectors who had picked me up, a wayworn stranger,
with two ribs broken, by the roadside, had me conveyed
160
MY BALLOON ADVENTURE.
along with them on a litter to the garrison town of
Girona, whither they were bound, and in the military
hospital of this place I was cared for, until youth and
a robust constitution enabled me to get the better of
the fever that ensued. My story was noised abroad,
and all Barcelona seemed eager to sit for its portrait
to the young English artist who had visited Spain in
so singular a manner; and thence, with good profes-
sional recommendations, I passed on to Madrid, Paris,
and London, and have never since known the actual
pressure of want.
I afterwards heard that a subscription set on foot at
Marseilles compensated Mr. Killick for the loss of his
balloon, but he and I never met again.
JOHN BERWICK HARWOOD.
SEP 2 8 1817

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