THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 A NOVEL. 
 
 BY THE AUTHOR OF "THE ODD THUMP," "HARWOOD," ETC. 
 
 It<w 
 E. J. HALE & SON, PUBLISHEES, 
 
 MURRAY STREET. 
 1875.
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1875, by 
 
 E. J. HALE & SON, 
 in the office of the Librarian of Congress at "Washington.
 
 Rs 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 The gracious reception of " THE ODD TRUMP " and 
 "HARWOOD," by the Public, encourages the Author to offer 
 the present volume. 
 
 He would fain believe that his effort to produce a 
 series of Novels which, at least, should not be hurtful in 
 tone or teaching, has been successful. 
 
 In the hope that this negative merit will atone for 
 imperfection in diction, plot and construction, he presents 
 the third volume of the "ODD TRUMP SERIES." 
 
 NEW YORK, September, 1875.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. Dr. Cunningham's Testimony 7 
 
 II. Child Stealing 18 
 
 HI. Mrs. "Willis's Confession 27 
 
 IV. John Hawder's Story 33 
 
 V. Captain Strong's Story 39 
 
 VI. The Ladies 58 
 
 VII. The Gentlemen 64 
 
 VIII. The Red Hall 70 
 
 IX. Sir Ranald De Lacy 74 
 
 X. The Prophecy 79 
 
 XL The Lacy Diamonds 84 
 
 XII. Two Happy Fellows 88 
 
 XIII. Ebenezer 92 
 
 XIV. The Smugglers' Cave 95 
 
 XV. Ah! ChelaMorte' 100 
 
 XVI. Willis 104 
 
 XVII. One Year Later ; Mr. Butler 109 
 
 XVIII. BadNews 113 
 
 XIX. Colonel Sir John Lacy 117 
 
 XX. Swiss 122 
 
 XXL The Power of Prayer. 126 
 
 XXII. A Letter 131 
 
 XXIII. Another Letter 136 
 
 XXIV. Nellie 140 
 
 XXV. The Gamekeeper 145 
 
 XXVI. Swiss in Trouble 149 
 
 XXVII. Swiss Explains 154 
 
 X XVIIL A Monologue Masculino 157 
 
 XXIX. Another Monologue Feminine 161
 
 G CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. The Rector Explains 165 
 
 XXXI. The Letter 169 
 
 XXXII. Clare's Sympathy 174 
 
 XXXIII. Two Tears Later 178 
 
 XXXIV. Stirling 182 
 
 XXXV. A Compagnon de Voyage 187 
 
 XXXVI. The Rector's Scottish Friend 192 
 
 XXXVII. Miss Clare's Explanations 196 
 
 XXXVIII. Phrenological 200 
 
 XXXIX. Tommy 205 
 
 XL. Some Revelations 209 
 
 XLL The Rector's Chase 214 
 
 XLII. TheDonkeys 218 
 
 XLIII. Nellie Lost 223 
 
 XLIV. Another Voyage 228 
 
 XLV. Adieul 232 
 
 XLVI. OntheTrack 237 
 
 XLVII. On the Right Track 241 
 
 XLVIII. The Cain Mark 246 
 
 XLIX. The Kinsmen 250 
 
 L, Love Tokens 254 
 
 LI. Sir Elbert Lacy 258 
 
 LII. The Drowned Rats 263 
 
 LIII. A Confession 268 
 
 LIV. Ornithological 272 
 
 LV. The Lords of Creation 276 
 
 LVL L'Envoi.. 281
 
 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 DOCTOR CUNNINGHAM'S TESTIMONY. 
 
 IT was raining I was going to say, cats and dogs, but it was a 
 great deal worse it was raining pins and needles. I was riding 
 in a north-easterly direction, and the little, sharp particles of frost 
 scarified my nose and my right cheek in an extremely unpleasant 
 manner. My horse winced and snorted as each gust swept over 
 us 5 and as my road lay along the west bank of the river, we were 
 ever and anon exposed to the full violence of the storm, as it came 
 roaring across the broad water. Sometimes a curve in the stream, 
 which the road did not follow, would give me the slender protection 
 of a clump of dwarf cedars, but I never had the friendly shelter 
 long at a time ; and it always seemed, as I emerged from the lee 
 of the bushes, that the fragments of sleet were considerably heav 
 ier, sharper and more numerous than before. 
 
 I had left home early in the afternoon, before the rain, and as I 
 had a long ride before me, and some prospect of detention, I told my 
 wife that I should probably be away all night. I was called out 
 to visit a poor patient, John Hawder, who lived full eight miles 
 from my home. Had he been a richer man, I should have postponed 
 the visit until the next day ; but I promised myself, when I first 
 began the practice of medicine, that the poor should always have 
 my services upon demand. Hawder was very sick. He had no 
 near neighbours, and he lived alone with his little motherless boy 
 in a log house near the river bank. I don't know how the man 
 lived, but he never seemed to be in actual want. I left him with 
 a heavy heart, after I had prescribed for him, and was the more 
 saddened by the cheerfulness of little Elbert, his son, who listened 
 with great gravity to my instructions as to the administration of 
 the medicines. I had intended to go to a farm house two or three 
 miles back from the river, where I also had a patient, but as this
 
 8 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 case was not at all urgent, I concluded to go back home from 
 Hawder's. The storm caught me before I had ridden a mile on my 
 homeward journey. 
 
 It grew worse and worse. I pulled up my horse under the lee of 
 a "yaller pine," Pinus mitis, a stunted tree which afforded very 
 insufficient shelter. There were three long miles of exposed road 
 right up the river bank before I could turn my back upon the 
 water and the sharp blast that whistled over it. The sleet rattled 
 through the thick foliage of the little tree, sounding like a rain of 
 shot upon plate glass. I rubbed my nose, wondering how long I 
 could keep that useful and ornamental feature if I faced the storm 
 again. There was a ferry just at this point, and while I was debat 
 ing about the dreary prospect ahead, I heard the sound of oars, 
 and presently saw the boat come up to the landing, and a passen 
 ger leap lightly to the bank. I saw him hand a piece of money to 
 the boatman, and heard him say : " You will have a hard pull back, 
 old fellow, and ought to have double fare. Good night !" 
 
 He came up the bank, crunching in the sleet that now whitened 
 the ground. As he reached the level of the road he saw me. 
 
 " Hillo, stranger !" he said, in a cheery voice, " are you going to 
 Baird's P and he drew nearer. " I beg your pardon, sir, but I 
 was thinking how jolly it would be if you could put me across the 
 creek dry shod." 
 
 He was a handsome fellow, about twenty -five, frank and manly 
 looking. While he waited for my answer, his blue eyes twinkling, 
 and his white teeth glistening in the twilight, I made up my mind. 
 Baird's tavern was a little country inn, rather more than a mile 
 from the river. I had never been there, but I knew it was on this 
 road, leading west from the ferry. 
 
 " I think I will go to Baird's," I answered ; " my home is so dis 
 tant, and the storm will then be behind me at least. Beppo will 
 carry double, so I can put you across the creek, if there is one to 
 be crossed. Will you mount at once f ' 
 
 ''Thank you, no," replied the stranger; "I have been cramped 
 up in that boat, and want to stretch my legs a little. I can keep 
 up with you for a mile, anyhow," and he started up the road at a 
 brisk pace, ahead of me. 
 
 As I followed, I noticed that he had a knapsack strapped to his 
 back. He was dressed in coarse, homespun garments, the legs of 
 his trousers stuffed into his boots, and his coat collar turned up, 
 covering his ears and most of his face. The brim of his slouched
 
 DOCTOR CUNNINGHAM'S TESTIMONY. 9 
 
 hat drooped around his head, and he looked as though he could 
 endure the pelting of the storm far better than I could. As we 
 advanced into the woods the pines grew larger, and we were a little 
 more protected from the sharp wind and sleet. 
 
 11 This is a dreary country," he said, as he strode along beside 
 me ; "it affords a striking contrast to to lands that I have seen 
 elsewhere. The hand of man has not done much towards smooth 
 ing the rugged front of nature in this locality. The inn is a mile 
 from the river, and two hundred yards beyond the creek." He said 
 this with the air of one repeating a lesson. 
 
 "You mean the country is dreary in comparison with your 
 own." 
 
 " In comparison with my own F he repeated. 
 
 "Yes, with England. You are an Englishman F 
 
 " I don't know why you should think so," he answered. 
 
 "Oh, you called Baird's an 'inn 7 just now. Besides, there is a 
 certain accent which distinguishes your countrymen." 
 
 " Do I drop my H's, or make too liberal a use of them F he re 
 plied, laughing. " I wonder if I may consider it complimentary to 
 be taken for a Britisher. I cannot discover any remarkable differ 
 ence between my speech and yours." 
 
 "You have decided then that I am an American F replied I. 
 
 " Yes. I don't know, though. I can't say, I'm sure." 
 
 " There you go again ! Americans don't say * I can't say, I'm 
 sure.' They are not sure, they guess." 
 
 "Well, I shall count you for a countryman till you deny it. I 
 am Mr. John Smith, at your service." 
 
 " I think I have heard the name before. I am Dr. Cunningham, 
 at your service, sir." 
 
 He pulled off his mitten and gave me his hand, which was 
 white and soft. Altogether, he impressed me with the idea that 
 his ordinary dress was not homespun, nor his proper name John 
 Smith. 
 
 Baird's was a lonely country tavern, where all the inmates seemed 
 to be just waking from a nap. I saw Beppo sheltered in a comforta 
 ble stable and supplied with a sufficient quantity of hay and oats. 
 Mr. Smith stood by while I gave my directions to the hostler, 
 and then we entered the public room together. The landlord went 
 behind his bar, expecting us to imbibe some of his potations, but 
 he was disappointed. We told him we wanted supper and beds, 
 with the privilege of smoking by his cheerful wood fire after we
 
 10 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 had satisfied the cravings of hunger. We soon had some hot coffee, 
 some broiled ham and good biscuits and butter. The evening meal 
 appeared to be over, as my companion and I were the only persons 
 at the table. 
 
 " I feel so much invigorated," observed Mr. Smith, as we drew 
 our chairs up to the fire, " that I could face the storm again now 
 if it were necessary. Yours must be a hard life, doctor, if you 
 are often exposed to weather like this." 
 
 11 1 am accustomed to it," I replied, " and I do not find the duties 
 of my profession irksome. In many cases I am able to relieve 
 suffering, and then I am amply repaid for toil and exposure." 
 
 " I have often fancied," returned he, " that the most trying part 
 of a physician's experience must be his constant contact with 
 humanity in affliction. It is true you can sometimes ameliorate 
 the condition of the sick and suffering, but there are also many 
 cases beyond the reach of your art. And when you know, as you 
 often do know, undoubtedly, that your patient will die, you must 
 suffer somewhat in advance in your natural sympathy for those 
 about to be bereaved." 
 
 " It is not the actual sickness of my patients that makes the 
 largest drafts upon my sympathies. More frequently the attending 
 circumstances affect me more. Now, to-day ." I paused. 
 
 " You were saying " 
 
 " I hesitated," I answered, " because I don't know that I would 
 be justified if I tell you a story that will sadden you, especially as 
 there seems to be no remedy." 
 
 " You make me only more eager to hear it. Pray tell it, unless 
 there is some other reason." 
 
 " No. It may be told in a few words. There is a poor fellow 
 living on the river bank, a mile or two below the place where I 
 met you, who is sick. His name is Hawder. I think he is going 
 to have typhoid fever and will probably die. There is no one in the 
 'house with him excepting his son, a child probably not over ten 
 years old. I do not know whether or not the man is in absolute 
 poverty, but his dwelling is not comfortable, and he requires care 
 ful nursing. While I was there this afternoon I was struck with 
 the little boy's intelligence and cheerfulness. He listened with 
 attention to my directions, and I have no doubt he will obey 
 them faithfully. But, somehow, I have not been able to shake off 
 the melancholy feeling that comes over me whenever I think of 
 that child."
 
 DOCTOR CUNNINGHAM'S TESTIMONY. 11 
 
 Mr. John Smith sat there opposite to me with sympathy in his 
 big blue eyes. As I proceeded with my story he threw the stump 
 of his cigar into the fire, and when I finished, he rose and buttoned 
 his coat. 
 
 " Please repeat your directions to me, doctor." he said simply ; "I 
 am going right down there." 
 
 "You?" 
 
 "Yes, I! God forgive me! here am I, brimfull, running over 
 with health and strength, with nothing to do, and that infant is 
 fighting a giant's battle alone. Yes, I am going down there im 
 mediately. Here, Mr. Baird ! I am going out again. I shan't be 
 back to-night. Take care of my knapsack till I return." 
 
 " Why, sir," answered the astonished landlord, " you can't go 
 anywhere to-night. The storm is worse than ever. It is a regular 
 iior'easter !" 
 
 " That's the kind of storm I'm partial to, Mr. Baird. What are 
 the directions, doctor ?" 
 
 " I shall order a strait waistcoat for you if you don't sit down 
 here and be quiet," I answered. " What has put this insane pro 
 ject into your head ?" 
 
 " Doctor," he said, gravely, " I am going down to that sick 
 man's house. I am going if I have to encounter ten devils in my 
 path. If you won't tell me Avhat ought to be done, I'm going all 
 the same. I can shield that boy at least ; besides, I know some 
 thing of enteric fever." 
 
 "My friend, you don't know all the case. This disease may 
 be, and probably is, contagious; and you have no right to 
 throw away the health of which you boast. Is there no one living 
 who has an interest in your life P 
 
 " Pooh !" he replied. " Perhaps there is j but I am not going to 
 take any disease. I am going to start when I count twenty. If 
 you'll tell me what ought to be done while I'm counting, I'll listen. 
 Here goes. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight but I'll 
 take my knapsack." 
 
 " Stop an instant and listen. Landlord, is there a near way to 
 Hawder's f Mr. Smith was strapping his knapsack to his back. 
 
 " Yes, there is a road right down the creek. There is a bridge 
 at the mouth of the creek near his house." 
 
 " Nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen " 
 
 " Stop again, if you please. I left four or five powders with the 
 child. The patient ought to have one every three or four hours.
 
 12 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 If he sleeps, don't waken him. If he has fever and is thirsty, give 
 him some sleet in a spoon. It will be better than water, and you 
 can get it at the door." 
 
 " Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen how much sleet may he have !" 
 
 " As much as he wants in moderation. You had better take a 
 sober second thought " 
 
 "Nineteen, TWENTY! Good night, doctor!" and he banged 
 the door after him as he issued forth into the storm. 
 
 Mr. Baird stood looking stupidly at me, listening to the strong 
 voice of his departed guest, as it came back to us outroaring the 
 tempest. He was singing " A wet sheet and a flowing sea," and 
 I heard his voice dying away in the announcement tbat "Old 
 England was on his lee." He had reached the pines below the 
 tavern by that time, and we heard him no longer. 
 
 " Well," said the landlord, drawing a long breath, " he sings 
 nice, don't he ? But it is a mighty quare start. I wonder what 
 he is after at old Hawder's ? He didn't pay for his supper, nei 
 ther." 
 
 " He'll be back again, landlord, to-morrow or next day. I'll 
 pay for his supper, though. Put it in my bill to morrow." 
 
 " Oh, I'm not partick'ler, doctor. What do you want, Nelly !" 
 The question was addressed to a beautiful child that came into the 
 public room at the instant. 
 
 " I want the key," she answered. 
 
 " You mustn't come in here, Nelly, when anybody is here," said 
 Baird as he walked behind the bar. The girl made no reply, but 
 looked curiously at me. 
 
 " Come here, my dear," I said, and she came immediately. I 
 took the little thing up on my knee and kissed her. " You are a 
 fine little lady. What is your name ?" 
 
 "Ellen." 
 
 "What else?" 
 
 "Nothing else; only Ellen." 
 
 " Here, Nelly, run out now. Here is the key," said Baird hur 
 riedly. I kissed the child again and put her down. She took tbe 
 key and vanished. 
 
 " What a beautiful little daughter you have, landlord," I said. 
 "She is your daughter, I suppose!" 
 
 " No, sir," replied Baird ; " she is some relation to my wife. I've 
 got no children." 
 
 " What is her name ! I mean her surname."
 
 DOCTOR CUNNINGHAM'S TESTIMONY. 13 
 
 " Kelly Willis, I s'pose, y answered he discontentedly. " You 
 see, her mother wasn't married." 
 
 "Pardon me. I did not mean to ask an improper question. 
 But the child is so beautiful that she interested me. Do you know 
 how old who is I" 
 
 "About seven, I s'pose. It's storming again wonderful. He'll 
 have a nice walk !" 
 
 " Who Mr. Smith ? Yes, he will have an unpleasant walk. 
 How far is it to Hawder's by the creek road V 1 
 
 " Two miles, good. Where is he going to sleep ? Hawder ain't 
 got no place to put him." 
 
 " I don't think lie intends to sleep there to-night," I replied ; " but 
 I believe I'll try to get some sleep myself, if you will show me my 
 room. I was called out very early this morning." 
 
 He lighted a candle and led the way through a passage behind 
 the bar. I passed him at the first landing on the stairway, and 
 when I reached the hall on the second tioor I saw the child stand 
 ing in a doorway. I held out my hand to her as I passed. 
 
 " Good night," she said. 
 
 " Good night, little darling," and I stooped down and kissed 
 her again. 
 
 " There, there, Kelly !" said Baird, impatiently ; " run in now 
 and shut the door." She smiled and nodded her little head to me, 
 and obeyed him. 
 
 I have so often been compelled to sleep away from home that I 
 am somewhat hardened. It is always a luxury to stretch myself 
 upon my own bed ; but when I have to accept a sleeping place at 
 the houses of my patients, I am mainly concerned about the quan 
 tity of the covering and the cleanness of the couch. But I have 
 always hated to sleep at public houses. I don't know why, but 
 the repugnance grows upon me instead of diminishing. Every 
 thing in my chamber was clean and comfortable ; but I sat down, 
 when the landlord left me, and concluded to wait until I was more 
 drowsy. There was a fire in the room, and a log or two of wood 
 on the hearth. A rocking-chair, made of split hickory, stood 
 in one corner. It was rough in appearance, but decidedly com 
 fortable. I drew it up to the fire-place, put out my candle, pulled 
 off my boots, and resting my feet on another chair, I lighted a 
 cigar and waited for the drowsy god. The sleet was rattling 
 against the window panes, and I could hear the wail of the wind 
 sweeping through the pines near the house. I thought of the
 
 H THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 generous young man who had voluntarily encountered the fierce 
 blast and the pelting of the storm to minister to the wants of a 
 poor creature, whose only claim upon his sympathy was the pos 
 session of a common nature. Then, when I remembered little 
 Elbert, I wondered that I had tried to dissuade him when he an 
 nounced his intention to go at once to the child's relief. I thought 
 of the loneliness of Hawder's house, and wondered what possible 
 concatenation of circumstances had brought the man there with 
 that boy, and had kept him there for some years isolated from 
 all his race. The man who brought me the message in the morn 
 ing was a chance traveller, who met the child on the bridge near 
 the house, and who found out, somehow, where Doctor Cunning 
 ham lived. 
 
 The logs fell apart on the hearth, and I put their points together 
 again and thought I would go to bed. But the fire was still 
 comfortable, and I stretched myself out on the chairs again and 
 began to think of the little girl, and then I fell asleep. 
 
 I dreamed that I was half floating and half swimming in the 
 river, and near the bank where the ferry boat had landed Mr. John 
 Smith. It was a very pleasant sensation. The water seemed to 
 be particularly dense or my body unusually buoyant, as I floated 
 without any effort. Suddenly I saw Baird come down to the mar 
 gin, leading the child by the hand. He waded out a little way 
 and then threw the child far out into the stream. I tried to call 
 out to him, but could not utter a sound. He waded back to the 
 shore and walked up the bank and out of sight. I then struggled 
 violently to reach the girl, whose intelligent face exhibited no 
 sign of alarm. Her head was above the water, and her curls 
 floated away from her neck as she moved with the current. I 
 could not reach her. The dense element mocked my eiforts, and 
 my strongest exertions appeared to accomplish nothing. Then I 
 saw Smith and Hawder come down to the water's edge. I tried to 
 call out to them, but again I had no voice. They looked at the 
 girl as she floated down the stream, and Smith appeared to talk 
 very composedly about her situation. He made no effort to res 
 cue her even when she floated near the bank. Then she began to 
 sink, and she stretched her hands out to me, crying, " Doctor ! 
 doctor !" and I awoke. 
 
 I was in total darkness. The fire had gone dead out. I got up 
 and began to remember where I was, when the voice came again : 
 
 " Doctor ! doctor !" and the door-knob rattled.
 
 DOCTOR CUNNINGHAM'S TESTIMONY. 15 
 
 "Who's there?" I said. 
 
 " It's me Baird," he answered. " I'm sorry to wake you, but 
 my wife is sick. Woii't you please come see her 1 ? I've got a 
 light." 
 
 I stumbled to the door and admitted him. The dream was still 
 upon me, and I felt inclined to take him by the throat for the mur 
 der of the child. 
 
 " Did you call me before P I asked, as I drew on my boots. 
 
 " Yes, sir ; I called you once or twice. You haven't been abed!" 
 
 " No, I fell asleep in my chair. I am ready now." 
 
 He preceded me along the passage, and opened the door at 
 which the girl was standing when I went to my chamber. There 
 was a little crib in a corner, and she was in it asleep. Although 
 I was now broad awake, yet somehow the memory of the dream 
 clung to me, and the sight of the child relieved me. Baird's wife 
 was lying in the bed a gaunt, hollow-eyed woman, who looked 
 anxiously into my face as I felt her pulse. 
 
 "Am I going to die, doctor ?" she asked in a husky voice. 
 
 " Not at present. You need not think about dying. I will tell 
 you whenever I think you are in danger." 
 
 She sunk back on the bed with a sigh of relief. 
 
 " Where is your pain ?" I inquired. 
 
 " I am sick at the stomach all the time, and my feet are cold ; 
 and I feel so drowsy sometimes, that I fall asleep till the sickness 
 wakes me again." 
 
 " What have you eaten to-day?" 
 
 " Oh, nothing to hurt. I had some pork steaks for supper, and 
 eat purty hearty of them but I did'nt feel sick till I was in bed." 
 
 " I want some hot water, Mr. Baird." 
 
 " The fires are all out, and " 
 
 "Well kindle one somewhere and heat some water. I will 
 prepare some medicine while you are gone." 
 
 When he left the room I sat down at a table and made up a 
 prescription. The woman fell asleep while I was thus engaged. 
 The table was near the crib and I looked at Nelly again. She 
 was sitting up, bolt upright, watching me with her round bright 
 eyes. 
 
 " Lie down, Ellen, my child," I said in a low tone, " and go to 
 sleep." 
 
 " I want my mamma. Can't you take me to her ?" 
 
 " Not to-night. Don't you hear the rain f Where is your mam 
 ma ?"
 
 16 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 " I don't know. Don't you f and she looked eagerly at me. 
 
 " Is your mamma named Mrs. Willis f 
 
 " Xo ! she is not my dear mamma. Oh, I want her so bad." I 
 heard Baird coming up the steps. 
 
 " Go to sleep now, my darling," I said hurriedly ; " Mr. Baird don't 
 like you to talk to me. I will take you to your mamma if I can j 
 but you must not say a word till I tell you. Do you understand f 
 
 " Yes. You are a good man and I love you !" she answered as 
 she laid her head down again. I believe she was asleep in a min 
 ute. When Baird came in I was at his wife's bedside again. She 
 awoke as he closed the door. I administered the medicine. She 
 was somewhat relieved when I left her, telling Baird I would see 
 her again in the morning before I left the house. 
 
 When I got back to my chamber I threw myself upon the bed 
 and tried to sleep. But it was in vain. The gray dawn came in 
 at my windows before I closed my eyes. That child ! Could it be 
 possible that any villauy, of which she was the victim, was perpe 
 trated -in the midst of a civilized community, where the laws were 
 administered and their sanctions dreaded ? Besides, what possible 
 object could Baird have in view, if the girl was stolen away from 
 her parents ? He was a thick-skulled, inoffensive sort of man, and 
 did not look like a rascal. Could I account for his evident uneasi 
 ness, when the girl was talking to me, by accepting his story of her 
 relationship to his wife and her illegitimate birth ? He did not 
 seem unkind to her, and she did not manifest either fear or dislike 
 when he talked to her. But the dream, and the child's eager de. 
 mand to be taken to her mother, and her denial of Mrs. Willis's 
 right to that title all these tilings confused and troubled me. As 
 the light increased I grew more composed, and when I went down 
 to breakfast I had decided upon my course. I only needed my 
 wife's approval of my plans, and I would do nothing and say nothing 
 until I saw her and communicated the facts in the case. 
 
 Baird's wife was worse. Her symptoms, without being exactly 
 alai;iniug, were very annoying. The weather was less inclement, 
 and I ordered my horse, intending to visit Hawder and Mr. Phil 
 lips, a farmer residing at no great distance from the Creek Bridge; 
 and, if the weather improved, to return to Baird's in the evening. 
 I did not see the child either in Mrs. Baird's room or down stairs. 
 While I was waiting for my horse a stranger came into the bar 
 room. 
 He was a tall, muscular man of about thirty. The first thing I
 
 DOCTOR CUNNINGHAM'S TESTIMONY. 17 
 
 noticed about him, when he removed his oilskin cap, was a long 
 red scar across his forehead, about an inch above his eyes. I 
 wondered if he had ever been in a battle and got a sabre-cut there. 
 He wore a long bushy beard, and without looking exactly vulgar 
 h,e had a flash appearance and manner. His dress was made of 
 good material, though somewhat worn and shabby. He walked 
 up to the bar without noticing me, and asked for brandy and 
 water. 
 
 " How is the filly P he said as he set his tumbler down. 
 
 "About the same, I reckon," replied Baird ; " but my wife is sick.' 7 
 
 " Much sick P asked the other indifferently. 
 
 " Yes ; the doctor there says she is party sick," and he pointed 
 over to the fire-place where I was standing. The stranger turned 
 and nodded civilly to me. 
 
 11 It is a raw morning, doctor," he observed. " I think last night 
 was the worst night I ever saw. I was out in the storm, down 
 there by the river. I wanted to stop at Hawder's, Billy" here 
 he turned to Baird u but he was sick abed." 
 
 " Did you go in P inquired the landlord. 
 
 " No ; the boy told me his father was sick. While I was talk 
 ing to him at the door, a queer looking chap came out of the back 
 room. He had his face tied up in a handkerchief and he stuttered 
 dreadfully. But I managed to understand that he was nursing 
 Hawder." 
 
 " What time o' night was it P said Baird. 
 
 " Nigh midnight, I s'pose. I went a mile up the road and got 
 shelter at a farm house, after fighting a cross dog half an hour." 
 
 The hostler here put his head in at the door announcing that my 
 horse was ready. I stepped up to the bar to settle for my enter 
 tainment, and interrupted a whispered conversation between the 
 pair. I overheard the new comer say : " she will have to stay a 
 little while longer. I'll take her when I can find a safe place." 
 It suddenly occurred to me that they were talking of the child, and 
 I waited for Baird's answer, but only caught fragments of sentences. 
 " Nobody to watch her ;" then another whisper, and then, " if you 
 can get Kitty to come here" " never mind your bill, doctor j I'm 
 afraid you will have one against me bigger than mine." I had no 
 excuse for lingering, so Beppo and I were speedily on the road to 
 my home. 
 
 When I related to my wife all the incidents concerning the little 
 girl, I could perceive that her woman's heart was touched, and 
 
 2
 
 18 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 that I might safely rely upon her cooperation. My plan was dis 
 cussed and approved, with some slight modifications ; the changes 
 being suggested by her fears that I might get involved in some 
 serious trouble, and suffer some bodily injury, if I came into col 
 lision with the men I had seen in the morning. But we agreed 
 finally that I should endeavour to find out any secret that might be 
 hidden under the story told by Baird, and as I would undoubtedly 
 be at the tavern every day for a week or two to come, I should 
 have an opportunity if I kept my eyes open. I had scarcely a 
 doubt that Baird's wife had typhoid fever, and her symptoms were 
 on the whole unfavourable. If I found in the afternoon that the 
 disease had developed itself positively, I should give orders to re 
 move the child's crib from the sick room. The question of con 
 tagion is an open one, but I have always thought it wiser to use all 
 possible precautions to avoid the risk. I rode away after an early 
 dinner, for Hawder's first, then for Mr. Phillips's, and finally for 
 Baird's, where I would again remain all night if the case was 
 urgent. 
 
 CHAPTEE II. 
 
 CHILD STEALING. 
 
 I FOUND Mr. Smith walking up and down the road near Haw 
 der's, smoking a cigar. He told me some of the sick man's most 
 prominent symptoms before I entered the house. Little Elbert 
 was with his father when I went in, looking fresh and cheerful. 
 He told me Mr. Smith came there " before he was sleepy," and soon 
 put him to bed in the front room, while he staid with his father. 
 I thought Hawder would recover, with patience and careful nurs 
 ing, the disease with him not having assumed any of its alarming 
 aspects. I have never been able to get rid of anxiety, however, 
 when I have had patients with " continued fever ;" neither have I 
 ever got my own consent to subject any healthy person, except a 
 necessary nurse, to the risk of contagion. 
 
 " It is my duty to tell you, Mr. Smith," I said, when we had left 
 the sick chamber, " that you are incurring more or less risk by 
 attending upon this man. He has typhoid fever, and will require 
 incessant attention for two or three weeks, if he is to get well." 
 
 " Pooh ! doctor," he answered, " do you think I am afraid of such 
 a bugbear as contagion ? Never fear for me."
 
 CHILD STEALING. 19 
 
 "I heard this morning that you were far from well. You had 
 your head tied up last night, and had a serious impediment in your 
 speech." 
 
 He laughed uproariously, and little Elbert joined in the laugh 
 with great glee. I told him to come to me and tell me all about 
 Mr. Smith since he first came. 
 
 " I gave father one of the powders last night, and came in this 
 room for some water for him, and then Mr. Smith knocked at the 
 dcor. He was all wet when he came in, but he took off his coat 
 and then he hugged me, and told me you had sent him to help me 
 nurse father. Then he opened that black bag yonder, and got out 
 a pair of little shoes, and he took off his boots and put the little 
 shoes on. Then he got some of the snow off the window sill in 
 the tumbler and gave father some with a spoon. Father said it 
 was so nice. Then he told me to go to sleep there on them chairs,'' 
 and he pointed to an extempore sleeping place in the corner, " and 
 he told me to say my prayers, and he tucked the blanket all round 
 me. When Mr. Butler was a knocking he woke me up. He told 
 me to get up and tell Mr. Butler you know, he has got a red 
 mark on his face to tell him father was very sick, and he could 
 not stay here. But Mr. Butler wanted to stay because it was 
 a-raining so hard, and then Mr. Smith came out of father's room with 
 his head all tied up with a handkerchief, and he told Mr. Butler 
 that he might catch the sickness but he talked so slow and funny ! 
 So Mr. Butler went away and I w T ent to sleep again. This morn 
 ing Mr. Smith went into the river and washed himself." 
 
 "Into the river F 
 
 "Yes, sir! he undressed himself and jumped right into the 
 water, and then he dressed himself again out there in the cold." 
 
 " The lavatory arrangements are not extensive in Mr. Hawder's 
 residence, doctor," remarked Mr. Smith ; " but I prefer the river 
 anyhow. One has more room out there." 
 
 " If you have no objection to tell me, I should like to know why 
 you changed your appearance last night?" 
 
 "None in the world. 1 thought I recognized the voice of the 
 visitor, and I did not wish to be recognized in turn. So I wrapped 
 my face up and put a couple of bullets in my mouth. It would 
 have been quite annoying if he had insisted on remaining ; but 
 he went very quietly when he heard there was some danger of 
 contagion. This boy is a bright little fellow." 
 
 " Yes, I must manage to get him away from here for a week or
 
 20 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 two. I think Hawder may escape a very severe illness, but the 
 case may be protracted, and he must have a nurse. I am going 
 now to Mr. Phillips's, and think I can get a Avoman there to come 
 here for two weeks." 
 
 " I will pay the expense, doctor, and I will also stay here until 
 the man is better. I have special reasons for remaining in this 
 neighbourhood. Perhaps I may go back to Baird's to-night or to 
 morrow, if you get a nurse for Hawder. Where can you put 
 filbert*" 
 
 " I want to stay with father," said the boy earnestly. 
 
 " Your father will get well sooner if you are somewhere else, 
 Elbert," I said. " You want him to get well soon, don't you '?" 
 
 " Yes, sir ! But I may come and see him ?" 
 
 "Yes, you shall come whenever he is well enough. I know you 
 will be a man, and wait until I tell you that you may come." 
 
 " I'll do whatever father says," replied the child ; ' but I think 
 he likes me to nurse him. He took the powder last night without 
 anything to take the taste out!" 
 
 " Well, he won't have to take any more medicine just now. I 
 am not going to give him any more powders." 
 
 " Before father got sick," said Elbert, after meditating a few 
 minutes, " he said I might go stay a day with Johnny Phillips. 
 Mr. Phillips was here and asked father to let me go. I could 
 walk over here from Mr. Phillips's house ; I know the way I've 
 been there many a time." 
 
 "Very well. I'll see Mr. Phillips this morning I am going 
 there now ; and if he says so, I'll take you over on my horse to 
 morrow." 
 
 It was so decided when I left Mr. Phillips. He very kindly 
 offered to send for the boy, and to keep him until his father re 
 covered. I also got a black woman, the wife of one of his farm 
 hands, to stay at Hawder's and nurse the sick man. She went 
 there the same afternoon. I had several other patients in the 
 neighbourhood, and it was near nightfall when I reached Baird's. 
 
 As I expected, I found Mrs. Baird worse. Her symptoms were 
 more strongly marked and decided. There was very little to be 
 done except to give directions to the woman I found in her room, 
 whom Baird introduced as " Mrs. Willis." I asked her if she was 
 prepared to stay with the sick woman for two or three weeks. 
 She replied in the affirmative, and I then endeavoured to explain 
 to her the nature of her duties, and the precautions she should
 
 CHILD STEALING. 21 
 
 observe to avoid the constant danger of contracting the disease 
 herself. She listened to me attentively and promised to follow 
 my directions. I told Baird the child's crib must be removed 
 from the chamber. He looked doubtfully at Mrs. Willis, who 
 promptly proposed taking Nelly into her room. 
 
 " Where is your room ?" I said ; " let me see it." 
 
 " It is next to the one you slept in last night, doctor," replied 
 Baird. 
 
 "Very well. I think there is danger of contagion, and it will 
 do no harm to keep on the safe side. No one ought to sleep in 
 this chamber. Mrs. Willis and you can relieve each other in 
 watching the patient, who will probably be worse and worse for 
 a week, or perhaps two, and who Avill require attention all the 
 time." 
 
 "Do you think she will die, doctor!" said Baird tremulously. 
 
 "It is impossible to say. She has typhoid fever, and her 
 symptoms are not very favourable. I hope, however, she will re 
 cover. There is nothing alarming in the case at present, and if 
 she is well nursed, and her mind composed, she may be better 
 next week." 
 
 " Her mind F repeated her husband, inquiringly. 
 
 " Yes. It is very important that her mind should be perfectly 
 composed. There are some slight appearances of cerebral de 
 rangement now, and there will be more to-morrow." 
 
 Baird and Mrs. Willis exchanged a rapid glance. I caught it 
 as I stood near the door, for I was watching them. 
 
 "Does the child's presence in the chamber annoy or disturb 
 your wife 1 ?" I asked. " I see she is not here." 
 
 "I believe it does. Nelly is in the kitchen. Mrs. Willis 
 
 will put her to bed in her room, and she shall stay there till 
 
 till--." 
 
 "Until your wife is better; very well. But Mrs. Willis will 
 have to stay in this room most of the night." 
 
 " Oh, Nelly sleeps all night. She is a good little gal, and does 
 whatever we tell her." 
 
 " Well, you had better remove the crib at once. Take one end ; 
 I will help you." So saying I took one end of the little bed and 
 we carried it along the hall to the room he had designated. As 
 we set the crib down in a corner I glanced around the room. It 
 was similar in every respect to the one I had occupied on the 
 previous night. Two windows looking out upon the pines and a 
 door communicating with the hall.
 
 22 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 "I shall remain here to-night. I suppose I occupy the same 
 room again ?" I said, as we walked down stairs. 
 
 " Yes, sir. There's a lot of drovers ill the bar room who will 
 stay here to-night, but I'll put 'em all in the back building. I 
 s'pose I needn't tell 'em there's a catching sickness in the house f ' 
 
 " It is not necessary. You may caution them to keep quiet, as 
 your wife will be disturbed if they are noisy." 
 
 We went down stairs, and I returned to the sick room after 
 supper. Mrs. Baird was sleeping fitfully and muttering incoherent 
 sentences. I tried to listen, but it always happened that Mrs. 
 Willis spoke to me before I could catch more than a word or two. 
 Once I heard her say " that child !" I was careful to manifest no 
 interest, as part of my plan was to appear indifferent to every 
 thing relating to the little girl. It was my duty to remove her 
 from the sick chamber on the patient's account, and I excited no 
 suspicions when I ordered this change. I could find no fault in 
 the matter or manner of Mrs. Willis's frequent interruptions. She 
 always managed to attract my attention, and always made some 
 appropriate remark, or asked some appropriate question. I began 
 to conclude that she was very nearly a match for me in the game 
 we were playing. I could not decide whether she was merely 
 watching against any possible revelations the sick woman should 
 make, or whether she suspected me of an undue interest in the 
 child. 
 
 For two or three nights I was at the inn until bed-time, watch 
 ing the progress of the case, as the more unfavourable symptoms 
 began to appear. I had but little hope of Mrs. Baird's recovery 
 from the first ; and during the second week, when she began to 
 exhibit those manifestations which a medical practitioner so 
 quickly recognizes as the precursors of death, I intimated to Baird 
 that he would probably soon be a widower. 
 
 At last the climax arrived. It was on Saturday, and the night 
 was clear and cold. I had ordered the man in charge of the 
 stable to put my horse away for the night, and when I entered 
 the bar room I saw Mr. Smith sitting by the open fire-place, astride 
 of his chair, with his face resting on his arms, which in turn 
 rested upon the back of the chair. I recognized him by the out 
 lines of his handsome person and by his homespun dress, and by 
 the slouched hat which concealed his features. The disagreeable 
 looking man, Butler, was leaning idly against the counter, and 
 looking with a puzzled expression at the stalwart form of the only
 
 CHILD STEALING. 23 
 
 other occupant of tli3 apartment. Butler nodded to me as I 
 entered, with a "Good evening, doctor." I walked up to the 
 fire 5 Smith was breathing deeply and. apparently in a sound 
 sleep. 
 
 "That chap's doing a good deal of sleeping, doctor," said 
 Butler. "I've hollered loud enough to wake a dead man, but he 
 hasn't stirred for half an hour." 
 
 "Better let him have his nap out," I answered carelessly. 
 " Have you heard how Mrs. Baird is P 
 
 " No, sir. Baird is in the kitchen, I believe. I'll call him." 
 So saying, he left the bar room. 
 
 "And I'll go to bed," said Smith, quietly raising his head. 
 " Good evening, doctor. Mr. Butler is so noisy a companion that 
 I will take advantage of the present opportunity and get rid of 
 him for the night. I will see you in the morning, I suppose ? I 
 think I overheard you tell the hostler you would remain here to 
 night !" 
 
 "Yes," I answered, "I shall stay to-night. Are you off? Good 
 night ;" and he passed into the hall leading to the chambers as 
 Butler re-entered the room, accompanied by the landlord. 
 
 If this was the proper place, I should like to record my opinion 
 of the course, crises and termination of the disease kuown as 
 continued fever. Mrs. Baird's case was an exceptional one. The 
 symptoms and the course of the disease up to this Saturday night 
 were identical with nearly all the cases I have attended. I had 
 concluded, when I visited her on the previous evening, that she 
 would die within the next twenty-four hours, but had decided to 
 pass the next night in attendance upon the case if she were, still 
 alive. I also thought, if she should die in the course of the night, 
 I might have the opportunity for which I had long waited to 
 converse a little with Nelly. I had had occasional brief glimpses 
 of the bright-eyed little girl, who had always looked cheerful and 
 particularly knowing as she nodded her pretty head to me in 
 passing. 
 
 There was no perceptible change in the condition of the patient. 
 I could detect no difference in her pulses or in the general symptoms. 
 She was sleeping, looking gaunt and cadaverous, but she had pre 
 sented the same appearance from the first. It was near midnight 
 when I left the sick room, directing Mrs. Willis to call me if there 
 should be any necessity for iny presence, and also recommending 
 her to remain by the bedside for the next hour or two. I then
 
 24 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 walked swiftly and quietly along the passage leading to my 
 sleeping apartment and tried the door of the child's room. It was 
 locked. Without pausing, I passed into my own chamber, and 
 drawing a chair to the fire-place I sat down to think. 
 
 It was probable that I should have an hour or more at my dis 
 posal, and the first thing to be done was to gain an entrance into 
 Nelly's room. There was no key on the outside of the door, and I 
 inferred that it was reposing in Mrs. Willis's pocket. Perhaps the 
 key of my door would unlock Nelly's. I decided to try it, and was 
 about to re-enter the passage, when I thought I heard some one 
 step across the floor of the little girl's room. I drew back, and 
 leaning against the thin partition, I hastily concocted an answer, 
 if it should happen that I found any one older than Nelly in the 
 chamber, to inquire into my motives for paying her so unseason 
 able a visit. Then I very plainly heard Nelly's voice raised a 
 little above a whisper. I listened intently, but could distinguish 
 no words. After a moment's silence I heard a step again and the 
 creak of a boot. It was undoubtedly a man's footfall, and he was 
 walking with great care. Matters were getting complicated, and 
 I aat down once more. 
 
 Who could be in the room ? Butler, of course ! How did ho 
 get there? What devil's work was he doing"? And, hardest 
 question of all, what was my duty I I don't know how long these 
 perplexing questions chased each other through my troubled brain, 
 or what rash conclusion I should have reached if I had not been 
 suddenly aroused by Mrs. Willis's voice at my door : 
 
 " Doctor, come quickly, please !" she said j " I believe she is 
 going !" 
 
 This abrupt summons effectually dispelled all my doubts for the 
 present. I had just time to congratulate myself upon my good 
 fortune. If Mrs. Willis had found me trying the lock of my little 
 neighbour's door, I should have had all my well laid plans frustrated 
 at once and forever. Mrs. Baird's case was urgent Nelly's could 
 wait. 
 
 There was nothing peculiarly alarming about Mrs. Baird. She 
 was more restless and flighty, occasionally muttering some inco 
 herent sentences, but I fancied that her pulse was better than 
 when I saw her earlier in the night. Her attendant looked pale 
 and careworn, and somewhat awe-stricken as she stood at the foot 
 of the bed. Baird was sitting in the corner, looking glum and 
 
 giy.
 
 CHILD STEALING. 25 
 
 " She's quieter now, sir," observed Mrs. Willis, " but she has 
 been going on awful." 
 
 " What .has she been doing F 
 
 " She has been talking kind of wild like." 
 
 , " I want the gal!" said the sick woman distinctly; " I want to 
 see the gal ! I tell you she is " 
 
 "There, there!" said Mrs. Willis; " don't go on so. I'll bring 
 her to you if you want her." 
 
 " Give me some water," answered Mrs. Baird. I put a spoonful 
 of wine in the tumbler before she took it. I walked over to the 
 corner where Baird was seated, and the fellow looked as though 
 he expected me to decapitate him on the spot. 
 
 " Your wife is not so ill, after all," I said ; " she may even re 
 cover if her mind is undisturbed." 
 
 " She has been calling for Nelly, sir," replied he, starting up, 
 " and if you say so, I'll bring her in here. 1 think she misses the 
 child ; she used to sleep in the little crib over yonder, and she 
 misses her." 
 
 " Not at present," I said, as he moved towards the door ; " if 
 she asks for her when she wakens, you may bring her in." 
 
 She slept for more than half an hour, probably forty or fifty 
 minutes, and when she awoke she looked steadily at me for a 
 moment, as if trying to recognize me. 
 
 " How do you feel, Mrs. Baird F 
 
 " I think I'm better doctor ; I've had a good long sleep. May 
 they bring little Nelly in to see me F 
 
 " Yes, Mrs. Willis will bring her," and in obedience to my look 
 she left the room. I heard her walk along the corridor ; heard 
 the rattle of the key as she put it into the lock ; heard the snap of 
 the bolt as it shot back, and then I heard her walking swiftly 
 back ; she pushed the door open and, standing on the threshold, 
 beckoned me out. 
 
 " The child is gone !" I caught her arm as she tottered away 
 from the sick chamber, and taking the candle from her shaking- 
 hand, I went to Nelly's room, Mrs. Willis following me mechani 
 cally. The chamber was empty. The little crib in the corner had 
 been occupied, the bed clothing was turned down, and the im 
 pression of little Nelly's head was plain on the pillow. 
 
 " I locked the door after she was asleep, and have had the key 
 in my pocket ever since," said Mrs. Willis. " Her clothes were on 
 the chair there by the crib ; they are gone. I remember putting 
 her shoes on the chair "
 
 26 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 "Where is Butler 1 ?" said I, interrupting her. 
 
 She looked at me with a half scared expression, but made no 
 reply. 
 
 " I do not doubt," I continued, " that Butler has carried the 
 child away, and probably by your connivance. If my suspicions 
 are not entirely unfounded, you two have committed an enormous 
 crime, of which this child is the victim, and I swear to you that I 
 am resolved to ferret this mystery out. If you will tell me all of 
 the matter, truthfully and unreservedly, I will befriend you as far 
 as I may be able to do so. I am willing to believe that you have 
 been misled by a worse criminal, and it may be possible to save 
 you from any worse punishment than the gnawiugs of your own 
 conscience." 
 
 " You are partly right and partly wrong, doctor," replied the 
 woman after a pause. " Before I called you to-night, I saw But 
 ler go into his room down stairs too drunk to do more than fall 
 upon his bed. If you don't believe me," she added, in answer to 
 my incredulous look, " step down stairs now, you will find him in 
 the little room behind the bar." 
 
 I took the candle, and leaving her in the chamber, I went 
 down stairs, wondering if this could be true. I heard the man's 
 stertorous breathing before I opened his door. There he was, 
 doubled up upon the bed, with swollen features and such marks 
 of helpless intoxication about him as could not be simulated. I 
 was only a minute absent, and found Mrs. Willis where I left her. 
 
 "I think I know what has become of the child," she said, 
 " and, God knows, I am only glad she is gone. If you want to hear 
 a long story, I will tell you every word of it. If you can quiet 
 Mrs. Baird and send her husband to bed, I will tell you to-night." 
 
 The crisis of Mrs. Baird's case was passed. She was sleeping 
 quietly when we returned. I advised the landlord to leave the 
 patient with us, telling him that all her symptoms were favourable. 
 I may say here that she recovered her usual health, and seemed 
 to mend more rapidly after she was made to understand that the 
 little girl was in safe hands. I sat down near her bed, placing the 
 light on the hearth, and Mrs. Willis commenced her story.
 
 MRS. WILLIS'S CONFESSION. 27 
 
 CHAPTEE III. 
 MRS. WILLIS'S CONFESSION. 
 
 I AM an English woman. I was born in Devonshire. I am not 
 going to tire you with a long account of myself, but some things 
 I am obliged to tell you, as you would not otherwise understand a 
 great deal of the story I have to relate. I know that you will be 
 most interested in that part of it which includes the child's his 
 tory, but I must tell it in my own way. 
 
 Lady Lacy was very frequeiitty in the village in which I was 
 born. It is called Laviugton, and belongs to a barony of the same 
 name. The Lacys had once owned large estates adjoining the 
 lands of Laviugton, but the family had been unlucky for two 
 or three generations, and Sir John Lacy inherited only the old 
 house and park, and I think there were some mortgages on this 
 small remnant of the old estate when he took possession. I don't 
 know how he managed to get his wife, who was the only daughter 
 of Lord Morton, of Lavington, and who brought him enough money 
 to pay off all the debts on his estate, and more besides. He was 
 a careless, good sort of a man, of whom I never heard much good 
 or bad, and I suppose he attracted more attention because he was 
 the representative of the old Lacys than from any other cause. 
 All that I have to tell you about him is, that he was killed by a 
 fall from his horse a year after his marriage, leaving his young 
 wife with a little baby girl, just born. This happened just seven 
 years ago. 
 
 Lady Lacy remained in the old house, though it might be called 
 a new house then, as Sir John had repaired it very thoroughly 
 before he took his bride into it. It was called the Red Hall, not 
 on account of its color, for it was built of gray stone, but on ac 
 count of some bloody legend that belonged to the family. I don't 
 know rightly what the legend was, but I remember some poetry 
 referring to it, which predicts the early death of the head of the 
 house. No, sir, I don't remember the lines exactly. Maybe they 
 will come back to me before I finish the story. I know that I 
 heard people repeating the poetry when Sir John was killed, and 
 the villagers seemed to consider his death as the only sort of death 
 that a Lacy of the Eed Hall could die. I wish I could remember 
 the poetry.
 
 28 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 Maybe I ought to mention here that Sir John was the second son 
 of the former baronet. Before he died that is. Sir Elbert, Sir 
 John's father he had quarrelled with his old er son, a boy less than 
 ten years old, and at the end of the quarrel the boy left his father's 
 house and never returned. It was said that he ran away and 
 came to this country and died here. I was a little girl then, but I 
 can recollect Sir Elbert and his remaining son going into deep 
 mourning. I am telling you all this to give you some idea of this 
 queer family. There has always been some kind of a curse follow 
 ing them, that is certain. 
 
 Very soon after Sir John's death I went to the Hall to nurse 
 little Ellen. Yes, sir, the little girl who has been stolen away from 
 this house to-night. 
 
 I don't understand the laws, and don't know anything about 
 Sir John's estate. Lady Lacy had plenty of money in her own 
 right; but I have heard the neighbours speak of the Eed Hall going 
 to some male heir of the Lacys, who, however, never came to 
 claim it. There was one gentleman, Mr. Lacy Barston, who lived 
 in the neighbourhood, and who was a relation of Sir John's, and it 
 was said that the lawyers thought he was the rightful heir to the 
 Red Hall and Park. But he always denied it himself, which was 
 curious, as he and Lady Lacy disliked each other excessively. He 
 was never at the Hall after Sir John married, though he was his 
 sworn friend before, and people said he never went anywhere else 
 where he was likely to meet the baronet or his wife. All the while 
 I was at the Hall I never heard my lady mention his name. There 
 was some secret cause for this mutual dislike which I tried to find 
 out a hundred times, but never could. Yes, sir. He was undoubt 
 edly a gentleman who stood high in everybody's opinion except 
 my lady's. He was a sort of a lawyer, at least he had been edu 
 cated for the bar, but he spent most of his time in travelling, 
 sometimes on the continent, and sometimes to outlandish places 
 that nobody ever heard of before. I have known him to go off on 
 one of his long trips maybe to South America, maybe to China 
 and be gone for a year or two, and then quietly come back when 
 nobody was expecting him. No, sir. He had no relations that I 
 know of nearer than Sir John. 
 
 I don't know why I have told you all this about Mr. Barston. 
 Although he was never at the Eed Hall, he was everywhere else. 
 I can't say that I disliked him, though I always felt uncomfortable 
 when he was nea'r me. I could not help thinking that he knew
 
 MRS. WILLIS'S CONFESSION. 29 
 
 exactly what I was thinking about, and then I was always sure 
 to think of things that I did not want him to know when he was 
 in the same room. It was when I was out with the child that 
 1 would see him. Sometimes, when I would be driving out (for my 
 lady frequently sent me with Ellen when she was not disposed to 
 drive herself), Mr. Barston would come galloping up after the car 
 riage, and take the child before him on his horse, and gallop off 
 with her. He seemed to be very fond of her, and she loved him 
 better than anybody in the world, except her mother. 
 
 After Sir John's funeral was over, Mr. Barston came home. He 
 had been absent nearly a year, but it seemed that he was now going 
 to settle down. The old place, Oakland, where he lived, was re 
 paired, and he rode over to the village one day to offer me the 
 place of housekeeper. It was after I had agreed to go to the Red 
 Hall, and*I could not have accepted his offer if I had fancied the 
 place. He persisted in his arguments when I told him I was en 
 gaged to my lady, and offered me " any wages I wanted." I sup 
 pose he was more anxious to get me, because he thought my lady 
 would be disappointed. Once, when he met the carriage, he re 
 newed the offer, asking me when my engagement would be at an end 
 at the Hall, but I then told him plainly that I did not wish to 
 make the change. My husband was courting me then, and he 
 hated Mr. Barston so thoroughly, that I had learned to dislike him 
 too. No, sir. He was not a drinking man then ; he has learned 
 to make a beast of himself in this country. No, sir. His name is 
 not Willis. His name is of no consequence. It is like enough 
 that Mr. Barston had caught him in some improper conduct poach 
 ing, maybe. I remember one time, as he was handing the child 
 back to me after one of his gallops, he said, " Kitty, I wish you 
 would quit keeping company with that fellow. He is not good 
 enough for you, or for any other decent girl." I asked him what 
 he had to say against him, and he answered, " He is a brute, and 
 has only a brute's instincts; but you won't be advised by me. I 
 see it in your face." And so he rode off. Heigho ! 
 
 My husband I was not married then had been gamekeeper for 
 Lord Morton. I never knew exactly why he left Lavington, though 
 I know he left in disgrace. He blamed Mr. Barston for interfer 
 ing, as I found out from things he would let drop when speaking 
 of him ; and it is very probable that Mr. Barston, who was fre 
 quently at Lavington, had given my husband a bad word when 
 ever he had the chance. During Sir John's lifetime there was
 
 30 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 some hard quarrel between him and Mr. Barston, which my hus 
 band helped to aggravate in some way. He never told me the 
 particulars. I only know that he had kept them apart a long- time 
 after they were willing to be friends again. I just remember the 
 lines I spoke of, and may as well repeat them before I forget them 
 again. I never could see any sense in them myself. 
 
 " A score and a half score lie ne'er shall attain, 
 Who holds the Red Hall and the Lacy's proud name " 
 
 I have forgotten it again. It is something about bloody jewels, 
 but the principal thing is the prophecy that no Lacy should live 
 thirty years, and they do say that they have always died young, 
 and always by some violent death. There is something in the 
 poetry about " kinsman's blood ;" maybe I'll remember it all before 
 I finish my story. Sir Elbert was found dead in his bed the day 
 before his birthday, when he would have been thirty. There were 
 marks of violence, I have heard, but no one ever knew who killed 
 him. He was married very young had married against the 
 wishes of his relations and friends, and both his sons were born 
 before he was of age. His wife died when Sir John was born. 
 
 My husband yes, sir, certainly. We were married in Scotland, 
 by Scottish law, as you will hear presently. I was going to say 
 that my husband has always hated all the Lacys and all belong 
 ing to them. I really don't know what reason he has, but I am 
 certain of the fact. 
 
 You want to know about my marriage ? Well, sir, we were in 
 Scotland. My lady and her bosom friend, Miss Clare Tamworth, 
 had a cottage near Stirling. One day, when I was driving with 
 Ellen, Mr. Barston came galloping after the carriage. He had 
 been away a year or two, but the child remembered him, and 
 clamoured for him to take her on his horse. I cannot understand 
 why my lady allowed it. She always knew it, for the child always 
 told her. Ko, sir ; she never mentioned Mr. Lacy Barston's name 
 to me, or to any one else, so far as I know. But she might easily 
 have told me to keep Ellen in the carriage if she objected to her 
 gallops with Mr. Barston,. However, he told me that day to meet 
 him at the same place an hour later, and rode off with the child. 
 I had to go to Stirling to get a brooch which my "lady had left at 
 
 a jeweller's to be repaired, and while I was in the shop Mr. , 
 
 my husband, came in. He was dressed like a gentleman. I had 
 left him at Laviugton a month before, and had received two or 
 three letters from him, but did not expect him. The coachman
 
 MRS. WILLIS'S CONFESSION. 31 
 
 bad taken the carriage somewhere to get a bolt replaced that had 
 
 been lost, and , iny husband, told me he had come to marry 
 
 me, and had arranged everything for the ceremony in a neigh 
 bouring street. I was easily persuaded, for I loved him. When 
 We reached the place I think it was a magistrate's office he told 
 me I must answer to the name the man asked, and to write it in a 
 book. I don't see why you should insist on knowing the name, 
 but it makes no difference over here. It was Clare Tamworth. 
 Yes, sir, he did sign his real name. I shall not tell you what name 
 he signed. The marriage was legal. I asked a lawyer, who cer 
 tainly knew all about it, and I have the certificate. After we 
 were married he walked back to the jeweller's and left me there, 
 bidding me keep the marriage secret until he gave me leave to 
 tell. I did not see him again or hear from him until a month 
 later. 
 
 My story is almost done, sir. Last summer we went to Clifton, 
 where Miss Tamworth lived. I used to take Nellie out on the 
 Downs every fine day between luncheon time and dinner. Some 
 times my lady and Miss Tamworth would be with us, and some 
 times we would be alone. One day Nellie and I wandered down 
 to the bank of the river the Avon. A large ship was going 
 down the river from Bristol going out to sea. The tide was 
 rising, but was not high enough, and the vessel came close to the 
 bank and got aground. There was a great deal of confusion on 
 board. Some sailors got into a boat and brought a rope ashore 
 to fasten the ship until the tide was high enough to float her off. 
 While I was watching the sailors a gentleman clambered over the 
 side of the ship and leaped down on the shore. It was my hus 
 band. 
 
 " Kitty, my dear," he said, " I've come for you. I was going to 
 walk over from Bristol, but the ship sailed twelve hours before the 
 appointed time. The captain suddenly decided to go out on this 
 tide, and I should have missed you if we had not got aground." 
 
 I was very much bewildered. I was glad to see him, of course, 
 and I was only too happy in the prospect of going away with him. 
 
 " I'll take Nelly home, then " 
 
 "That is impossible," he answered; "the ship will be afloat 
 before you could get up the bank. Bring her with you. We can 
 send her home by the pilot boat. Nellie, do you want to go on the 
 big ship P 
 
 " Yes, yes !" replied the child eagerly ; and before I could offer
 
 32 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 an objection he took her in his arms and stepped in the little boat. 
 I followed, hardly knowing what I was doing, and in a few min 
 utes we were climbing over the side of the vessel. 
 
 " I have no clothes," I whispered, as he drew my arm through 
 his; " and I cannot possibly go in this way- " 
 
 " Pooh, pooh ! I've a trunk full of dresses in the cabin a regu 
 lar outfit. This is the lady, captain Mrs. Butler " 
 
 " And daughter?" replied the captain, touching his cap to me. 
 " You did not mention the child, Mr. Butler." 
 
 "Didn't I ? I forgot it, I suppose. Come on, my dear; I will 
 show you the cabin," and we went down stairs. 
 
 All this occurred more rapidly than I can tell you, and I did not 
 exactly know what I was doing until we were all in our state 
 room. While Nellie was engrossed with the strange sights 
 around her, my husband endeavoured to pacify me with his expla 
 nations. He said he had been several weeks in Bristol, had taken 
 passage in this ship for himself and wife, had bought u iny outfit," 
 as he called it, and was coming to Clifton for me that evening. 
 When he found the ship was actually going in the afternoon, instead 
 of the next morning, he made up his mind to go in her, and write 
 for me from America. He said " a good Providence " had run the 
 ship aground just at that spot. I thought so too, then, but now I 
 think it was a bad devil ! 
 
 The ship was soon moving. A little tug towed her down the 
 long river very slowly, because the tide was coming in so strongly, 
 and it was dark before we were in the channel. The child went 
 to sleep, and I laid her in one of the berths. It was almost mid 
 night when the pilot went off in the tug. I could not send Nellie 
 I could not bear to do it; so my husband bade me "write a letter to 
 my lady which he sent by the pilot. 
 
 The next morning we were at sea. I have never known a happy 
 hour since that day. Nellie was told I told her, that the ship had 
 sailed away with us while she was asleep, and that she must call 
 me "mother" and Mr. Butler "papa" while we were aboard, and 
 that we would take her home whenever we could " get the ship to 
 turn round." We told her she must not say anything to the cap 
 tain about her real mother, for fear he would not take us back. 
 She is a wonderfully old child, and she obeyed me implicitly. She 
 was not much distressed, and if she had not cried for her mother 
 sometimes in the night I would not have been so miserable. We 
 reached New York in twelve days and came directly here. My
 
 JOHN HAWDERS STORY. 33 
 
 husband has been getting drunk nearly every day since we came. 
 We have a house not very far from Hawder's. No, sir ! I dare 
 not tell you my husband's name; he would kill me! I have not 
 dared to write to my lady since we landed, but I have made many 
 plans to get away with Nellie and get back to England. I am cer 
 tain my husband did not intend to bring her away, and he sol 
 cm nly swore to me only yesterday that he would take me and 
 her back as soon as the spring opens. If he would only leave off 
 drinking I believe he would do it. He has no business, sir. I 
 don't know where he gets his money. Mrs. Baird is awake. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 JOHN HAWDER'S STORY. 
 
 I DON'T think talking hurts me a bit, doctor. You have 
 pulled me through this bout so fast that I feel quite well 
 enough to go out if you would allow me ; but if you won't, you 
 can let me sit up here in the blessed sunlight at least. English? 
 Yes, sir ! Devonshire, too, the garden spot of the world ! The 
 Lacys ? oh, yes, I have known them all my life. They are a queer 
 lot, but I can't say they are altogether bad leastways not all of 
 them. Sir Elbert was a real gentleman, though he was head 
 strong and violent. He was always very kind to me, and was 
 godfather to my poor brother, who is now in heaven, and I called 
 my boy after him. My father was Sir Elbert's steward, and his 
 oldest son, Master Elbert, was born the same day I was. I remem 
 ber well enough playing with him and his brother, the late Sir 
 John, when we were all younger than my boy yonder. I was too 
 young to know much about the final quarrel between Sir Elbert 
 and his son, but I heard a good many of them. Sir Elbert was 
 violent and the boy was fierce. He was proud as Lucifer, and 
 when his father struck him that morning, he said, " You are my 
 father, and I cannot strike you back, but I'll leave your house," 
 and that night he ran away. Within a year he died, or was killed 
 in some horrible way, I don't know how, and Sir Elbert did not 
 live long after him. The prophecy ! Well, sir, the people used 
 to say there was a prophecy about the Lacys dying young. I 
 don't know it. It was something about " bloody jewels." After 
 
 3
 
 34 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 Sir Elbert's death his son, Sir John, went to live at Oakland with 
 Mr. Barston, who was his uncle. He was riot very rich, but lived 
 in a quiet way among his books ; and his two boys, as he called 
 them, that is his son Lacy and Sir John, grew up together. They 
 were a good deal more like real brothers than the two young Lacys 
 were, and I am sure they loved each other dearly. Mrs. Barston 
 was Sir Elbert's sister, and one of the best women that ever lived. 
 The people called her Lady Mary, though she had no title. There 
 is another tradition current in the neighbourhood, which says all 
 the bad of the " haughty Lacys " is monopolized by the men of the 
 race and all the good is monopolized by the women. 
 
 It has been nearly a dozen years since I saw or heard anything 
 about Devonshire people. My father had a large family, and I 
 persuaded him to let me come to this country when I was quite a 
 youth. 1 had been fairly educated, and thought I could make my 
 own way in the world if I only had room. But I have never been 
 lucky, somehow, though I have always managed just to get along 
 and keep my head above water. And now I am thinking of tak 
 ing my boj r to Devonshire, and let him grow up among his own kin. 
 Oh, yes, sir, I am sure of employment that will yield me enough 
 for my wants. 
 
 You wish me to tell you what I know of Mr. Butler? I would 
 rather talk about something else. I suppose you have some good 
 reason for asking, but I don't know anything very good about 
 him, and have no desire to harm him in any way. You are very 
 good, sir ; but I do not believe you can ever befriend Butler, un 
 less you could make him leave off his drink, and that cannot be 
 done. I have known him to be perfectly sober for a year at a time, 
 and then suddenly fall back again into his old habits. He is terri 
 ble when he begins one of his spells, but he soon gets stupid and 
 harmless. The first time I ever saw him was six or seven years 
 ago. It was in New York. I can tell you about that, certainly. I 
 was working in one of the theatres, doing odd jobs and getting 
 very fair pay. I had to stay until late. When I had finished my 
 duties, I went through the stage door into the boxes, to see the last 
 of the play, and just as the curtain fell there was a row near me. 
 One man was fighting two, and that seemed wrong in my English 
 eyes. So I went in and took one of the two in hand. It only 
 lasted a minute or two. I polished my man off, and then I saw 
 some policemen coming, and I slipped back by the stage door. 
 Before I got through it the single man followed me, crossed the
 
 JOHN HAWDEKS STORY. 35 
 
 stage with me, and we were soon in a side street and safe. It was 
 Butler. He was perfectly sober, was well dressed, and looked like 
 a gentleman, and talked like one. The fellow he was fighting had 
 a knife and had cut him a little in the arm, and I took him home 
 with me and dressed his wounds, and then made him a bed on the 
 sofa. He had that scar on his forehead, and it was something that 
 the bruisers at the theatre had said about that which brought on 
 the fight, 
 
 When I went down stairs the next morning I found Butler up 
 and dressed. He was trying to get the blood stains off his coat 
 sleeve. I got him a needle and thread, and he sewed up the cuts 
 in his sleeve very neatly. " I learned that at sea," he said. My 
 wife was sick, and Elbert was a baby then. I kindled a fire and 
 made some tea. After he drank a cup he got up to go. 
 
 " You're English," he said, " and your name is Hawder. I read 
 it in the Bible yonder before you carne down. I am going now, 
 but I want to come to see you again some time. I have nothing 
 to say about last night's work. If I had seen you or any other 
 man beset by two bullies, I should have done what you did. So 
 would any Englishman. I hope your wife will soon be well again. 
 Good-bye." 
 
 She didn't get well again. A month later I buried her. When 
 I got back from the funeral I found Butler at my door. I was 
 not in very good spirits, and did not want company, but I had to 
 invite him in. He did not talk much, as he was pretty full of rum. 
 I made up a bed for him again and left him asleep. In the morn 
 ing he was worse. He had been drinking in the night and was 
 furious. He talked a lot of wild stuff about being at sea, and 
 fights on bloody decks and bags of doubloons. I was not much 
 afraid of him, though he was frightful enough ; but I could not 
 leave my baby boy in the house with him ; so I took the child out 
 by a back door, and left him with a neighbour when I went to ray 
 work. When I went back at dusk he was gone. He repeated 
 this the next week, and I don't know why I endured it as long 
 as I did. Somehow I could not get my own consent to turn 
 him out or refuse him admittance. He was an Englishman, and 
 somehow, he seemed to think he had a sort of claim upon me ; 
 perhaps because we had been in the scuffle together at the theatre. 
 And besides, he would come sometimes well dressed, with nice kid 
 gloves on his hands he has very small white hands and would 
 behave like a gentleman. He would tell interesting stories about
 
 36 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 storms at sea, or about adventures with savages in some tropical 
 island. One night, I remember, he told how he and a shipmate 
 had got lost in the bush. It was on the other side of the world I 
 think in Australia. They had gone ashore to nil their water 
 casks. He must have been an officer, as he left the men at their 
 work and wandered off into the woods with his companion. " We 
 did not know we were lost until dark," he said ; " in those latitudes 
 the sun goes down like a shot. We did not have much time for 
 discussion before we knew that we were among enemies. A long 
 spear came glancing through the bushes and plunged into a tree 
 trunk by our side, and quivered wickedly in the failing light. 
 There was only one thing to be done, and that was to charge in 
 the direction from which the spear came while we could see'. So 
 we tore our cutlasses out and dashed into the dark bushes, shout 
 ing aloud in English for our men. Another spear met us and 
 made an ugly hole in Jack's side. I suppose that hurt cost half a 
 dozen of the niggers their lives, for we were among them in a 
 minute, and Jack laid about him like mad ! I was as cool as I am 
 now, and kept up the shouting while I fought. My pistols were 
 emptied very soon, and no shots were wasted. There seemed to 
 be a hundred of the black devils, and they would have finished 
 my history pretty soon, if the men had not come up, and if I had 
 not been wise enough to keep close to the savages so that they 
 could not use their spears. Half a dozen pistol shots from the men 
 concluded the fight. The savages disappeared like a lot of ghosts. 
 We had to leave poor Jack, who had fought his last battle. My 
 only hurt was a wound in the head, that was not dangerous." 
 
 " Is that the scar on your forehead P I asked. His face sud 
 denly became ghastly pale, while the ugly seam grew purple. At 
 last he answered : 
 
 " No ! And, Mr. Hawder, please remember that all reference to 
 this beauty spot of mine is forbidden for all time to come. And 
 now good-night." And he walked out of the house before I could 
 speak. 
 
 He came afterwards, and did not seem to remember my unlucky 
 question, which I need not say was never repeated. I asked him 
 on one occasion, when he was telling of some other fight he and 
 his men had, how it happened that they were armed ? He looked 
 at me with a queer expression, and said " it was customary down 
 there," but that was the last of his fighting stories. When he was 
 drunk he would talk all kinds of outlandish gibberish, but never
 
 JOHN HAWDERS STOEY. 37 
 
 said anything that was connected or comprehensible. I have 
 never known him to laugh, except in such a horrid fashion that 
 it made my flesh creep. Mj r belief is that some dreadful secret is 
 on his mind, connected with that ugly scar, maybe, that drives 
 him to drink as he does. 
 
 One of the theatre managers owns this farm, and he offered me 
 enough money to give me a bare living, with this house to live in, 
 if I would come here and oversee his land. I was tired of New 
 York, and tired of Mr. Butler, and my boy was puny and fretful, 
 so I consented and moved here two years ago. Elbert seemed to 
 grow strong and healthy at once, and I was able to have him 
 constantly with me, and as I left no traces, I lost Mr. Butler or 
 rather he lost me. I never saw him after I moved until last 
 autumn it was October ; the boy and I were in the orchard yon 
 der gathering apples. We were under the big tree by the road 
 side when a Jersey wagon came down the road, and the man who 
 was driving stopped his horse, and asked me the way to Baird's. 
 It was Butler. He had a lady and a little girl with him, and one 
 or two trunks were in the back part of the wagon. He knew me, 
 'of course, and I knew him, but he gave no sign of recognition, and 
 neither did I. He thanked me civilly for the information I gave 
 him and then drove on. I have not seen him since, but I heard 
 
 his voice the other night, when Mr. Smith was nursing me so 
 
 kindly. 
 
 Did I know Mr. Lacy Barston ? Yes, sir, I knew him well. He 
 was a mere stripling when I left England. Heigho ! It is a won 
 derful relief to change the subject of discourse. Mr. Barston is, 
 or was, the noblest gentleman I ever knew or heard of. No Lacy 
 blood in him, except what he got from his mother, Lady Mary, 
 and he could get nothing but good from her. His father was not 
 rich, and he had very little pocket money, but what he had was 
 mostly spent for the comfort of poor people about Oakland. I 
 remember that he and Sir John were out shooting one day, and 
 Sir John shot at an old horse of Farmer Dawson's in pure wanton 
 ness. The horse was too far off for the shot to hurt him, but he 
 was frightened, and tried to leap over a fence and got staked, so 
 that he had to be shot in earnest. Mr. Barstou said nothing about 
 it, but he saved up his weekly allowance until he had enough to 
 buy another horse, which he sent to Dawson with Sir John's good 
 icishes. I know all about it, because I took the horse and the 
 message, being bound to secresy first. I never saw him. out of
 
 38 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 temper in my life, though I have known him to endure bad treat 
 ment from his cousin more than once, and fairly conquer him at last 
 by sheer amiability. It was not for want of pluck, sir. He could 
 have doubled up Sir John in two minutes, and I don't believe he 
 knew what fear was. He was always playing off some prank, and 
 his whole life appeared to be one joke. His great delight was to 
 disguise himself and pass himself off for somebody else. The 
 last trick I knew him to play was upon Lord Morton, to whom he 
 got introduced as a French governess. He wrote a lot of letters 
 from people Lord Morton knew, and took them himself to Laving- 
 ton, and actually was engaged by Lord and Lady Morton for their 
 daughter, Miss Ret, now Lady Lacy. It was she who discovered 
 him after he had deceived everybody else. They did not agree, 
 for some reason, though there was never any quarreling between 
 them. Oh no, sir ! he only passed himself off for the French 
 woman for a joke. None of his jokes ever hurt anybody. He 
 would not harm a fly. 
 
 Since I left England I have heard of his father's death, and also 
 that he had inherited a good lot of money from some distant 
 cousin. And in the last hair dozen years he has wandered all- 
 over the earth. No one can tell where he is at any time certainly. 
 He has been in Australia, in South America, and once on a polar 
 expedition, where he was caught two winters in the ice. Yes, sir, 
 I think he has been in this country too. Well, yes, sir, I may say I 
 know he has. Have I ever seen him here ? Well, sir, I might have 
 seen him many a time without knowing him, as he can make him 
 self look like anybody rather than himself. Have I never seen 
 him to know him ? Well, sir, you know if I had seen him in 
 any other character than his own I would not feel at liberty to 
 
 ; thank you sir, I am sure you would not wish me to betray any 
 
 confidence. I don't mean, though, that I have been bound up; I 
 mean I don't mean anything. I feel a little tired talking so 
 much ; might I go lie down awhile ? Thank you, sir.
 
 CAPTAIN S THONG'S STORY. 39 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 CAPTAIN STRONG'S STORY. 
 
 I AM captain of the royal mail steamer " Austria," belong 
 ing to the New York and Liverpool line. I have crossed the 
 Atlantic ninety times, and have seen all sorts of weather. Yes, I 
 have carried all sorts of people, too. Perhaps the queerest lot I 
 ever carried was on my last voyage. The ship left New Y"ork at 
 noon on the tenth day of April, in the midst of a blinding snow 
 storm. I remember that everything about the laud was white, 
 and that we sailed into bright skies and shook the snow out of our 
 sails before dark when the pilot left us. The wind came cold and 
 strong off the Long Island coast, which lay all white on our lar 
 board quarter, and took the old ship like a race horse out of sight 
 of laud. We had but few passengers, as it was too early in the season 
 for the Yankee rush. You know the Yankees don't begin until 
 May. The day before we sailed a nice gentleman came aboard to 
 look at his state room and arrange his trunks. I had a list of my 
 passengers, or rather the purser had, and we looked through the 
 list to find his number, as he had forgotten it. We soon found it 
 " Mr. John Smith and daughter." He had one of the best state 
 rooms in the ship. The twin room next to it, number six, was 
 taken by Mr. and Mrs. Barston. Mr. Smith seemed to think this 
 was a queer name, and asked me a great many questions about 
 them. But I could not tell him, as I had not seen them. But at 
 sailing time there was no u Mr. Smith and daughter," and I had 
 to go without them. Just before dark, when the pilot boat 
 quitted us, an old gentleman, who had a bright little boy by the 
 hand, handed me a letter, which only contained a line or two. 1 
 remember every word of it. " Mr. John Smith presents his com 
 pliments to Captain Strong, and regrets that his name must be 
 erased from the passenger list. But his friend, Mr. John Jones, 
 the bearer, has taken Mr. Smith's ticket for himself and son, and 
 the agents have kindly consented to the transfer. Mr. Jones will 
 take charge of Mr. Smith's luggage to Liverpool, as he has very 
 little of his own." Of course I was bound to be polite to the old 
 gentleman, who was very feeble, and I showed him to his state 
 room, number eight. Mr. and Mrs. Barston were already in num 
 ber six. I think Mr. Barston had had something to drink before 
 he came aboard, and I know he had had something since the ship
 
 40 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 left her dock. Mr. Barston kept up steam enough to run the ship 
 ill his own stateroom. His wife, who was a very handsome woman, 
 stuck faithfully by him and must have had a hard time. She was 
 seasick, too, poor thing. For a whole week she never got on deck, 
 and her husband never stopped drinking. He had a bottle of 
 champagne at breakfast time, aiid' always finished it before he left 
 the table. He was very polite, especially to old Mr. Jones (who 
 sat next to him), and would have been good looking enough if it 
 had not been for a long seam across his forehead that looked like 
 a sword cut. It was generally red, but when he would take a 
 tantrum, which was pretty often, it would get purple, and then he 
 looked like the devil. The steward always had to take him to 
 his state room from the table, while the stewardess took care of 
 his poor wife, who did not eat enough to sustain a snipe. 
 
 Old Mr. Jones was very regular in his habits. In the morning 
 he and his little boy, Johnny, had a regular romp on deck. They 
 had it all to themselves, as none of the other passengers got about 
 so early. The child was very shy, and I could never get more 
 than a word or two out of him, and he was always watching his 
 father as if he wanted to know what he would like him to say. I 
 picked him up one day suddenly, to show him a school of por- 
 poises near the ship, and asked him, " Is your name Johnny P 
 Bless you, he was only a mite,Jt>ut he opened his eyes wide and 
 sharp and answered, "That's what papa calls me!" I hadn't 
 time to ask him any more, as the old gentleman took him out of 
 my arms, saying, " He is the best child alive, captain, but is a 
 little shy P 
 
 After breakfast the old gentleman always went into the second 
 cabin. You know the second cabin passengers could not come 
 into the saloon, and could not come abaft the mainmast, but the 
 first cabin passengers could go where they liked. Mr. Jones was 
 very fond of pottering about among the seasick passengers and 
 brightening them up a bit. There was one poor fellow, a Mr. 
 Hawder, who was very miserable, but Mr. Jones actually got him 
 on deck a day or two before we saw the Irish coast. He had a 
 boy with him, too, a bright little fellow who staid by his father 
 all the time. When Mr. Jones got them up and comfortably fixed 
 near the funnel, he went down after his boy, and walked about 
 the deck for some hours. I suppose the children would have 
 liked to play together, but the old gentleman kept to his own part 
 of the deck and never let go his boy's hand. It was all well 
 enough, you know, for him to go among the second class passeu-
 
 CAPTAIN STRONG'S STORY. 41 
 
 gers, but be did not intend the cbild to form any second class 
 acquaintances. Bless you! be was as proud as Lucifer! 
 
 I am coining now to the end of iny story. We sighted the coast 
 on Sunday, a gale blowing from the nor' west. It was just after 
 dinner and nigh dark. We had had good weather until that Sun 
 day, but it came in with a gale of wind, and by night it was a 
 regular storm. Most of the passengers were huddled in their 
 berths, but when the storm was knocking the old ship the hardest, 
 \vlio should come on deck but Mr. Barston ! He had been pretty 
 sober all day, that is, for him. Bet I have always noticed that a 
 man who gets champagne drunk I mean a good regular drunk 
 don't get entirely sober under a week. His wife was not able to 
 be with him, as the rough sea had put her to bed, where she lay 
 helpless and miserable. Old Mr. Jones had Mr. Barston's arm, 
 and they both appeared rather to like the weather than otherwise. 
 
 " I think you will find it more comfortable below, gentlemen," I 
 said, as they cluiig to the rail on the lee side of the gangway. 
 
 " Below !" shouted Mr. Barston. " Why, captain, this is glori 
 ous! It is the first good weather you have had. I have been 
 caught in a cyclone twice, and could sleep comfortably on deck in 
 this little breeze." 
 
 " But, Mr. Jones " 
 
 " Never mind me, captain," said the old gentleman. " I, also, 
 have seen Averse storms than this. Mr. Barston was anxious to 
 tell me a story, as he expresses it, and says he can only tell it in 
 the open air." 
 
 They seated themselves on the edge of the skylight grating, 
 just under the lee of my cabin. I was studying my charts, and 
 was within a yard of them while they sat there. 
 
 " You will remember, then, Mr. Barston," said I, " that you 
 must not talk any secrets, as I cannot help overhearing you." 
 
 "All right, captain ! My story is only a bit of romance that I 
 am anxious to tell Mr. Jones. I dare say it will put you to sleep 
 if yon listen." 
 
 But I didn't go to sleep. And when the story was over I half 
 fancied that I should never go to sleep again ! I had put the ship 
 head to wind, and felt pretty safe for the night, and only wished 
 to confirm my judgment by going over the charts once more. Mr. 
 Barston had evidently a fit of the horrors, as no man perfectly 
 sane could have said the things he said. I cannot understand to 
 this day how poor old Mr. Jones took the thing so quietly. They
 
 42 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 sat there, and talked and smoked cigars, raising their voices when 
 the wind howled through the rigging, but neither of them paying 
 the smallest attention to the storm, which was about as bad a 
 storm as I ever encountered. 
 
 "Well, Mr. Jones," began the other, "my story is about some 
 English people boys and girls, and men and women. You are 
 an Englishman F 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " I thought so. But it is not likely that you ever heard of my 
 boys and girls. Let me see ! There were two boys, brothers, who 
 lived in England no matter what part some years ago ! What 
 did you call that youngster of yours F 
 
 "John." 
 
 " And that kid of Hawder's is called Elbert, is he not F 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Well, let me call my two boys Elbert and John. Those names 
 will do to distinguish them as well as any. Elbert was the elder 
 by a year, and was heir to a good name and a fairish estate. But 
 his father spent about eight years in developing whatever there 
 was of the devil in the elder boy, and at the end of that period 
 struck him. On the same night Elbert ran away, and he never 
 set foot in his father's house afterwards. In a year or two his 
 father heard of his death, and not long after died himself; so John 
 was left the last of his race. Do you understand F 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Elbert walked out of his father's house a mere child, mind 
 you and within a mile he fell in with a company of roving players, 
 who took pity on him, and gave him a blanket to sleep on in their 
 tent. By daylight they were off, taking the boy with them. He 
 had a little pocket money, but they would take none of it. During 
 the day they plodded on, aiming to reach some village by night 
 fall, when they would spread their tent and gather all the loose 
 shillings they could by their performances. One of the actors had 
 a daughter about Elbert's age. Her name was well, call her 
 Kitty Willis as Willis was her father's name, and Kitty will do 
 as well as any name to designate her. Elbert told this girl his 
 story the exact truth and they two kept the secret. She was 
 kind to him then and always. God bless her! She ought to be 
 blessed, for nobody else was ever kind to him ! It seems to me 
 now, as I recall his story, that he came into the world at enmity 
 with humanity, and that poor little girl, the half orphan daughter
 
 CAPTAIN STRONG'S STORY. 43 
 
 of a strolliiig player, set herself against humanity in pitying and 
 befriending him ! 
 
 "For three months the boy wandered through the provinces, tak 
 ing some little parts in their plays sometimes, rather tolerated than 
 otherwise, and leading a hard enough sort of life. The other child 
 kept a sort of watch over him, and did what she could to lighten his 
 burdens. He was a mere mite, you know. But it never once oc- 
 ciirred to him that he might go back to his father's house and live 
 like a gentleman. One day, three months after he had left his 
 home, the players were in Liverpool, and Elbert was accosted in 
 the street by a gentleman who recognized him a Mr. . No mat 
 ter ; he was a neighbour of his father's. Yes related to him. He 
 the old gentleman said the boy must certainly return to his 
 father's house. The boy answered by darting down an alley and 
 escaped. But before he got away the old gentleman had extorted 
 a promise from him that he would communicate with his father 
 the next day. So he kept his promise. He addressed a note the 
 next evening to his father from the deck of the Hindoo, a Cal 
 cutta liner, and gave it to the pilot at the mouth of the Mersey. 
 He had shipped as a cabin boy, a poor orphan who could read and 
 write a little. Twenty years ago the Hindoo sailed probably with 
 in a few miles of this very spot. She was spoken just out of sight 
 of land, and she was never heard of again ! 
 
 " But master Elbert could tell the history of that voyage if you 
 could only get at him ! The ship got round the Cape and was 
 crawling along under light breezes in the Bay of Bengal when 
 she met another ship. This was a brigantine, which outsailed the 
 Hindoo in the light wind, and was soon within half a mile, and 
 then she hoisted a black flag and began to fire upon the big ship. 
 The boy could not give many details. He could tell of a day's 
 fighting under that burning sun, of decks slippery with blood, 
 of the gallant stand made by a score of desperate men as a 
 hundred fiends at last clambered on board. He could remember 
 the hopeless struggle against enormous odds, and the death of the 
 last man who resisted. He could tell how the pirate captain hes 
 itated a moment whether or not to chop off his head also, anil 
 finally concluded to spare him, because he cursed him to his face! 
 He could also tell how the ship was gutted and scuttled, and how he, 
 the solitary survivor of all her company, sailed away from the scene 
 of the strife, under the black flag of the pirate, as her cabin boy. 
 
 " The brigantine was manned by men of all nations. The captain
 
 44 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 was an American, and his name was Butler. He was the most 
 hideous mortal that ever lived. He was all brnte. But, for some 
 unaccountable reason, he took a liking to that boy the waif he 
 had gathered from the sea and though he cursed him twenty 
 times a day, he did not maltreat him. For ten years, in which the 
 boy passed into manhood, he was the constant companion of that 
 brute. And when the captain died must I tell you how he died ? 
 Well! It was on the other side of the world. 
 
 u They had a law on the brig, in fact they had several laws. One 
 related to the distribution of gains. Every man had the same 
 share in the gains, which were sometimes honest enough, except 
 that the ship paid no customs. She was an armed smuggler, and 
 they had an island on the Australian coast, which was totally in 
 accessible except at one spot known only to the smugglers. It 
 was the mouth of a little river, almost concealed by the dense 
 undergrowth, but affording secure anchorage. It was a famous 
 hiding place. Here they would land their guns sometimes, and 
 leaving nine-tenths of the crew, would sail out, their yards all 
 down, and go on a trading expedition under fore and aft sails. 
 An officer or two staid with the shore crew and maintained disci 
 pline, which was rigid and inexorable. Another law related to 
 quarrels, which were infrequent. This provided that any serious 
 quarrel should be settled by the quarrelers. They were landed at 
 some safe place, armed only with cutlasses, and time allowed them 
 to settle their differences. The survivor was taken aboard and 
 no questions asked. Officers were the peers of officers, and they 
 could not quarrel except among themselves. The men were not 
 allowed to answer officers, and no disputes were possible. 
 
 u Elbert was a lieutenant. He had been promoted, as all officers 
 were, by the unanimous vote of the men. He had done something 
 that the men thought particularly plucky in a little fight with 
 savages. The captain would have prevented the promotion if he 
 dared, but he was powerless against the unanimous vote of the 
 crew. But it was possible to tantalize the boy for he was under 
 twenty when he was elected and one day there was a savage 
 quarrel. You may think it strange, but they quarrelled about 
 their nationalities. One might think all love or respect for one's 
 country would die out in such a life, but it did not. Each said 
 some terribly hard things about the other's birth place, and at last 
 some words were spoken that brought the steel out of the scab 
 bard. They were quickly disarmed, the brig's head put about,
 
 CAPTAIN 8TBON&S STORY. 45 
 
 and the next day they were on the Australian coast, far out of the 
 track of ordinary traffic. A boat was lowered, and the captain 
 and Elbert were landed with their weapons in their belts. As 
 they walked into the bush Elbert recognized the old battle ground 
 where he had encountered the savages a few months before. 
 
 " I don't know whether you are enough interested in the boy to 
 care about his emotions, but I may as well tell them. He thought 
 first of his kindred in far-off Euglaud, and the thought of them 
 made him more eager to settle accounts with Butler, who had 
 dared to traduce them in traducing his country. Then he 
 thought of the fierce struggle that had occurred under those very 
 trees when he had fought his way from forecastle to quarter deck. 
 Then he thought of a resolution he had formed, which was to quit 
 that accursed vessel that day, dead or alive ! He had collected all 
 his booty, which was mainly in Bank of England notes, and it was 
 belted around his body. He had exchanged a lot of gold for this 
 money the last time the brig had been a schooner, when they were 
 in a civilized port. It was Melbourne. 
 
 " A hundred yards from the shore it was a little bay on the north 
 coast they came out of the bushes upon a sandy opening, and 
 Elbert unbuckled his sword belt, drew his cutlass, and threw belt 
 and scabbard on the ground. 
 
 " See here, Britisher!" said Butler, as he bared his own blade, 
 " have you any objection to jaw a little before we begin !" 
 
 " None in the world, except that time presses. There is a storm 
 brewing, and the brig would be safer a little farther from the 
 shore." 
 
 "Wa-al!" drawled the captain," we need not trouble ourselves 
 about the brig. I have a proposition to make !" 
 
 " Make it !" 
 
 " Wa-al ! I bear no malice. If we git to choppiu' one another 
 here, I guess we'll both git hurt some. I don't want to hurt you 
 particular, and dam'me if I want to git hurt myself!" 
 
 u I do not understand you !" 
 
 " Oh, it's all plain enough. Instead of fightin', s'pose we toss up ? 
 whichever wins shall return to the brig. The other stays here !" 
 
 " I am not going back to the brig in any event," answered El 
 bert coldly. " If you will apologize for your insulting words, you 
 may return and welcome." 
 
 "And if not " 
 
 " 1 will assault you when I count ten. One, two, three, four
 
 46 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 " Hold hard, Britisher ! I cave ! There's my hand. What ! 
 you won't take it ? Wa-al ! no matter. I apologize for what I said, 
 and I think you might oblige me by tossing up! You won't? 
 Wa-al, I'll go then. Look here, boy ! Don't be fool enough to 
 think I am afeard to fight you. You have seen me tackle bigger 
 men before now. The truth is I am sick of the brig, and I did not 
 want to kill you, and if you had a grain of sense you would go 
 back ! They would make you captain ! You won't ? Wa-al j 
 good bye, and good luck to you ! It is not likely that we shall 
 
 meet again this side of whatever place sich good people as us 
 
 go to ! I s'pose you know that btishmen live hereabouts ?" 
 
 "Yes. I saw a few of them just where you stand only three 
 months ago !" 
 
 " Wa-al ! that's cur'ous. But I b'lieve you're right ; and if you 
 think this is a healthy spot, I don't. You are not likely to come 
 off as well this time as the last, and the best piece of advice I can 
 give you is to keep your eyes skun ! Good bye." 
 
 " Elbert watched him as he pushed his way through the bushes, 
 picked up his belt and sheathed his weapon, and then creeping on 
 hands and knees, gained a little knoll near the beach, and saw the 
 captain ostentatiously wiping his bloodless cutlass on a handful 
 of broad leaves that he had plucked as he passed through the bush, 
 and stepping into the rocking boat. Half an hour later the boat 
 was hanging at the davits, and the hoarse song of the crew as they 
 hoisted in the anchor came floating over the water. 
 
 " The heavens were black, and the wind came in little fitful gusts, 
 as the brig expanded her wings and turned her prow seaward. 
 Elbert climbed a tree on the high ground and watched the vessel, 
 as she rose and fell, slowly crawling away from the coast. Then he 
 fastened himself securely in a fork of the tree with his sword belt, 
 and fell asleep sleeping as only a sailor can sleep amid the roar of 
 the storm, as it swept over land and sea. You hear the wind now ? 
 Well, it is a mere zephyr compared with that tropical tornado ! 
 
 " Now there are two or three things that I must tell you to make 
 my story hang together. First, about the boy. In the ten years 
 he spent in that floating hell he had never once forgotten that he 
 was born a gentleman. All his gains were honest gains, barring 
 the absurd customs. He participated in the profits of smuggling, 
 but he shared not in the profits of piracy, though these were by far 
 the larger. Again, he had never destroyed human life, except in 
 one terrible fight with savages, so brutal that they might scarcely
 
 CAPTAIN STRONG' S STORY. 47 
 
 be called hum an, and then he fought for his own life. In the hor 
 rid conflicts that occurred, though rarely, he simply refused to take 
 a part, though he also refused to shelter himself while the fight 
 lasted. He would stand on the deck and take his share of shot 
 or sabre stroke, though he would not strike back. His life was 
 preserved by one long miracle reserved for worse horrors than 
 any he encountered on the pirate's deck. 
 
 " The second point relates to the ship. It would seem incredible 
 that a vessel should live a dozen years in these days of steam, 
 preying upon all mankind. But it is nearly certain that no man 
 lived who knew the true character of the innocent schooner 
 Peggy, whose marine papers were always straight and regular. 
 She remained the Peggy until she disappeared in the thick 
 growth of her secret anchorage, and when she emerged, brig 
 rigged, with her two terrible guns, she was altogether another 
 ship. And again, whenever she assaulted a strange sail, it was 
 clearly understood by every man under her flag that it must be 
 victory or death : and also, that no witnesses must be left when 
 the victory was won ! When she left the island armed for piracy, 
 every man was required to be on board, and when she sailed away 
 from the coast that afternoon, she carried with her every mortal 
 that knew her except the boy that was peacefully sleeping in the 
 tree. As for him, his chance of escape from that dreary wilder 
 ness was less than it would have been had he been cast into the 
 sea a thousand miles from land, with an oar to keep him afloat. 
 
 " The third point relates to the strange proposition of Butler to 
 remain in the wilderness, and allow Elbert to return to the ship. 
 I cannot explain his conduct. It is not credible that he was 
 afraid, or that he doubted as to the result of the combat. If they 
 had fought he would have killed the boy, for he was a cold blooded 
 sworder of no ordinary skill. There may have been some lingering 
 ray of human feeling left in his wicked bosom. The boy had 
 nursed him once when he was badly wounded and mad with 
 fever, and staid by him, enduring his curses, until the crisis was 
 past. Or he may have had some plan of escape that I cannot 
 conceive. The north coast of Australia, in that day, was the 
 crater of the pit ! 
 
 " The last point relates to the boy sleeping in the tree top. How 
 could he sleep, knowing all I have told you ? I cannot explain 
 this either. He had lived a hard life, and had gathered some sort 
 of philosophy out of it. He bad carried his life in his hands so
 
 48 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 long that he did not value it very highly. He was young and 
 strong and hopeful, and he saw his dismal prison floating away 
 from him. And God had been merciful to him thus far, for his 
 hands were unstained. Poor, poor boy! if you had known him 
 you would have pitied him also." 
 
 I do pity him from the core of my heart," replied Mr. Jones. 
 
 "Do you? Well, well! the boy slept; possibly because there 
 was a natural reaction from high excitement. When he opened 
 his eyes the tempest was over, and the streaks in the eastern sky 
 betokened the approach of day. The sun rose out of the tossing 
 waves, and Elbert, hungry and thirsty, began to estimate his 
 chances and form his plans. He climbed higher up the tree and 
 peered anxiously into the virgin forest, wondering how long it 
 would be before he would see the long spear of the bushrnan 
 glancing among the green leaves. Then he looked seaward along 
 the line of coast, and he saw two things. First, the hull of a ship, 
 dismasted and broken, rolling in towards the beach, and second, 
 the body of a man in the water, bobbing up and down, almost at 
 the foot of the tree. He descended rapidly, and pausing to plunge 
 his head in the little stream that trickled over the sand, and to 
 quench his thirst, he waded out through the surf arid drew the 
 body to the beach, recognizing the unlovely features of his late 
 captain, swollen and disfigured in death. 
 
 " A more careful survey of the bay showed him a boat, bottom 
 up, drifting towards the shore. The brig had grounded just inside 
 the eastern headland a mile or more from where he stood. With 
 the prompt decision of a sailor he stripped off his clothes, and 
 swam out to the boat, and, with great difficulty, turned it partly 
 on its side, when he discovered the mast and sail still in place. 
 Partly swimming, and partly carried by the tide, he once more 
 gained the shore, where the boat, beating on the shingle, shook 
 the mast out of the step. Securing this, and drawing it out on the 
 sand, his next task was to right the pinnace with infinite labour, 
 and then with patient toil he baled her out with his hat. 
 
 "It was high noon when he pushed off from the land, and with a 
 fair breeze sailed towards the wreck, now hard aground and 
 motionless. The stern had caught on a tongue of rock projecting 
 into the bay, and the battered bows were almost submerged when 
 he clambered on board. Securing his boat on the lee side of the 
 wreck, he picked his way among the obstacles that encumbered 
 the deck to the officer's cabin, still out of water. The storeroom
 
 CAPTAIN STRONG'S STORY. 49 
 
 adjoining was locked, but, seizing an axe, he with ready hand 
 beat in its panels. He filled, a large bag with biscuit, happily 
 uninjured, and dragged it to the side and placed it in the pinnace. 
 Then with great difficulty he got a small water cask strapped 
 down under the thwarts, and filled it with a bucket, pumping the 
 water from the large cask that was securely fastened near the 
 after hatchway. This took half a dozen journeys from his boat to 
 the cask. He took a pair of pistols from the rack in the cabini 
 some ammunition, a spy glass, the ship's compass, a pair of oars, 
 and then, with the confident courage of youth, pushed off, spread 
 ing his sail, and passing the headland, steered boldly out upon 
 the restless ocean with a mere cockle shell for a ship. As he sat 
 in the stern sheets, munching a biscuit, he looked back at the long 
 curve of the bay, and to the spot where he left the body of the 
 captain, and saw the beach swarming with black savages! 
 
 " The breeze was steady and favourable. He rounded the western 
 cape, and, guided by his general nautical experience, he set his 
 course southwest, vaguely intending to land, at the brig's island if 
 he could find, it, and if not, to get into the general track of Aus 
 tralian liners. When the night came on the breeze died away, and 
 he took down his mast, and securing it by lashing to the thwarts, 
 he stretched himself out in the bottom of the frail boat, rising and 
 falling in the placid swell of the sea, and slept. 
 
 "At the end of the second day the sun went down in a bank of 
 cloud, and Elbert, warned, by occasional gusts of wind from the 
 Avest, shortened his sail and kept awake, running as close to the 
 wind as possible. By midnight he was obliged to take his mast 
 down and keep his boat across the waves with his oars. He 
 estimated his distance from the coast at about a hundred miles, as 
 he had been sailing a little south of east for nearly forty-eight 
 hours. But he could not estimate the eastward drift of his boat 
 since the wind had changed, and he waited the return of daylight 
 with great anxiety. Before the dawn came he distinctly heard 
 the roar of breakers, and with manful determination he pulled 
 away from the dreaded sound. The rain came in torrents with 
 the returning light, and then he could dimly see the rocky coast, 
 and when the boat rose on the crest of a wave he could see the 
 line of white water stretching away to the south, and within the 
 quarter of a mile of him. He knew he was in deadly peril, but 
 his pluck did not desert him, and he drew off his boots and pre 
 pared to battle with the angry elements. Suddenly, with a hoarse 
 
 4
 
 50 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 shout, he turned his boat's prow towards the shore and pulled 
 through a rift in the line of foam into smooth water. He had 
 recognized the island. In a few minutes he had secured the boat, 
 and walking up the rocky path, entered the hut which the whole 
 crew had vacated a week before. Here was rest, security and 
 undisputed dominion. He was undoubted monarch of all he sur 
 veyed, and sole heir to the island and all upon it. 
 
 " Do I make you understand the situation ? A few words will 
 make all clear. The wreck was tenantless, and the crew had cer 
 tainly taken to the boats before the brig struck. All the boats 
 were gone, and it was almost certain that Butler had been one of 
 the crew of the pinnace which had escaped destruction. But 
 there was hardly the ghost of a chance for any other boat. Elbert 
 would have seen them if they had entered the bay, and it was far 
 more probable that they sought the island when they aban 
 doned the ship. The bay was a mere indentation in the coast, 
 affording no secure anchorage in heavy weather, and the only 
 chance left them was to pull away to the east. But in the face of 
 the storm that wrecked their ship they could not possibly escape 
 destruction. They were dashed to pieces upon that iron coast, and 
 probably the captain was the solitary body yielded up by the 
 .remorseless sea. All of this was perfectly clear to Elbert as he 
 lay in his hammock under shelter, while the rain poured down 
 from day to day. The hut was rudely fashioned, having a roof 
 thickly thatched with many layers of broad leaves and bits of old 
 canvas, and water-tight over the sleeping quarter where hammocks 
 were suspended when the island was inhabited. Provisions and 
 stores were abundant, gathered from many luckless vessels that 
 had been robbed and scuttled, and during the week of incessant 
 rain Elbert cooked his meals daily, taking such variety as his 
 stores afforded. In the intervals he smoked and reflected. 
 
 " The island was nearly circular, rather more than two miles 
 across. Its coast was rock bound and inaccessible on all sides 
 excepting the narrow opening that gave egress to the little river. 
 In the centre, which might be the crater of an extinct volcano, the 
 land was higher and bare of vegetation. From the highest 
 point the entire horizon was visible over the tree tops. Here 
 Elbert repaired every day, when the rain was over, and anxiously 
 scanned the wide expanse of waters, hoping to see a passing ship. 
 But none ever appeared. The island was distant from the great 
 ocean highways. His only hope of escape was by the pinnace,
 
 CAPTAIN STRONG'S STORY. 51 
 
 which was a large boat, entirely seaworthy, and capable of carry 
 ing a dozen or more. It is very probable that it was overladen 
 when the brig was abandoned, as the three boats would not con 
 tain the numerous crew, except by close packing, and it WHS 
 doubtless capsized in the storm. The other boats carried no sails, 
 and if overcrowded, would hardly live a minute in the fierce storm 
 of the tropics. 
 
 " There was a large cavern near the hut, in which the valuables 
 belonging to the crew were stored. There were nearly a hundred 
 wicker baskets, neatly made, each bearing the name of the owner. 
 It spoke well for the morals of this community of outlaws that 
 there were no locks upon any of these. A few had become com 
 mon property by the death of former owners, and these contain 
 ed undivided spoils, small arms, and such articles of value as 
 belonged to the furniture of the brig. By their law Elbert was 
 sole owner of all that the island contained. But he never thought 
 even of looking into the baskets bearing the names of his late 
 shipmates, though he knew there was enough wealth in that cave 
 to satisfy the most extravagant wants he could ever indulge. 
 From the common stock he took freely all that he required. 
 
 "The pinnace was originally schooner rigged, and the main-mast 
 and sail were on the island. Elbert devoted many days to the 
 task of fitting her out de novo. There was an abundance of spare 
 canvass and cordage in the cavern, and by contriving a system of 
 blocks and pulleys lie was able to take in both fore and mainsail 
 from his place in the stern. The jib was more unmanageable, 
 and he concluded to risk this sail, which was under his control in 
 a great measure, as he trailed the jib sheets also to the stern. 
 His plan was to carry as much canvass as the boat would bear, to 
 make the most of any favourable wind he might have. He had re 
 solved to quit the island, to sail to the southward, and failing to 
 find a ship, to get round the south western cape and perhaps to 
 Adelaide or Melbourne. 
 
 " In the ten years he had spent on the brig or the island, Elbert 
 had made but one friendship, and that was scarcely worthy of the 
 name. There was a taciturn Englishman, who was called Jack 
 Schollard, because he was "fond of his book," as the rough sailors 
 said. He talked very little, and read incessantly when the ship's 
 duties allowed him the leisure. As a fighter he was the most 
 desperate of the savages around him, and had won his rank of 
 lieutenant by his prowess. The kindness he showed to the boy
 
 52 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 was in lending him books and explaining difficulties which Elbert 
 could not surmount unaided. He spoke most modern languages, 
 and sometimes when he and Elbert were alone he would encourage 
 him to resume the language of civilization in exchange for the 
 slang of the ship. Once, when Jack was sick, he was left on the 
 island while the brig was away on a long cruise, and Elbert was 
 left with him to attend to his wants. These were few and simple, 
 but as his eyes were diseased, he could not read, and he kept the 
 youth reading aloud to him day after day for several months. It 
 was a mine of wealth to the boy, who got a sort of education by a 
 royal road, in spite of the proverb. He never manifested any 
 emotion whatever, though Elbert once and again expressed his 
 gratitude to Jack for allowing him to remain with him, and, 
 indeed, selecting him for his companion on several occasions. 
 Three months before the wreck of the vessel Jack had landed in 
 the pinnace at the very spot where Elbert and the captain had 
 parted for the last time. They had brought some water casks to 
 fill, and while the men were employed at this work Schollard and 
 Elbert wandered into the forest, where they were suddenly attacked 
 by a swarm of savages. In the fight Schollard was killed and 
 Elbert wounded, but the men who rushed into the fray found him 
 astride the body of the lieutenant fighting his maiden battle, 
 and doing a man's work. The natives were put to flight and 
 Elbert carried aboard the brig, and before sunset was formally 
 elected lieutenant. As his wounds healed he quietly resolved to 
 quit the ship forever at the first opportunity. He did quit, as I 
 have told you, and thereby saved his life. 
 
 "The only excuse I offer for giving this incidental bit of history 
 is my desire to account for the change that had come over Elbert, 
 transforming him from boy to man. It was a great shock to him 
 to lose the solitary friend he had in the world, for his world was 
 the hated ship ! And when he looked over the book basket a day 
 or two before he left the island, I am obliged to say that he 
 dropped some tears of genuine sorrow. Poor Jack ! What horror 
 was in his earlier history, turning the cultivated gentleman into 
 the tiger, no man knows! Poor Elbert! The fixed purpose 'of 
 his soul, when he was left by Butler on that savage coast, was to 
 find the bones of his friend and bury them ! 
 
 "And now as the youth, whose lip and chin were covered by the 
 silken down of early manhood, steered his little ship between the 
 mimic capes of his harbor and out upon the swelling ocean, he
 
 CAPTAIN STRONG'S STOEY. 53 
 
 thought he cast out of his life all the memories of his bitter past. 
 He had ballasted his boat with enough provision to suffice him 
 for a mouth at least, and with a fair westerly wind, his sail close 
 hauled, he sped away on his old southwest course. He was steer 
 ing from memory, as he had no charts, and only a vague idea of 
 the trend of the coast. His purpose was to sail as steadily as the 
 wind would allow on this course for ten days, and then to turn 
 his prow eastward and seek some port in South Australia. He 
 did not heed the truth that his chances were as one in a hundred, 
 and that a very moderate storm would certainly wreck his frail 
 boat. Oh, the blissful confidence of youthful ignorance ! How 
 dire the loss, when this is exchanged for the experience of 
 maturity ! 
 
 " I can hardly tell you how he slept or how the time passed for 
 six days. Sometimes the wind died away, and then he would 
 lower his sails, unstep his masts, and securing them as well as he 
 could, would sleep, sheltering himself from the sun by an awning 
 he had made while on the island. Such a calm found him on the 
 sixth day, after twenty hours of steady progress, and he stretched 
 himself out about noon and fell asleep. He was wakened by the 
 whistling of the wind as it tore his awning out of its fastenings, 
 and blew it away to leeward. He lay stupidly gazing up at the 
 sky, sparkling with a million stars, until, recognizing his peril, 
 he seized the helm and with a sailor's instinct tried to bring his 
 boat head to wind. In vain ! The boat shipped a sea as she 
 rolled in the trough and then turned slowly over. He clung to 
 her side, and as she half righted, rising upon the crest of the 
 wave, he almost lost his hold. But he was again in the trough in 
 a moment, and managed to get into the boat, which was full of 
 water. As he mounted the next wave there was nothing above 
 the surface for the wind to catch, and he was tolerably safe. And 
 so he rode out the storm, which was only a transient gust, and 
 when the sun rose the sea had almost gone down again. Every 
 thing was lost from the boat, oars sails and provisions and she 
 was no better than so much lumber, buoyant enough to keep him 
 on the surface, but utterly worthless for all else. 
 
 " I canuot tell you coherently what happened next. The sun 
 beat pitilessly upon him throughout that seventh day, and when 
 the night brought out the magnificent constellation of the southern 
 cross, with the myriads of brilliant stars that seemed to whisper 
 hope to him, he was almost past the reach of hope. When the
 
 54 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 day came again he was only partly conscious of the burning sun, 
 and then all was night. Hungry, thirsty, weary and disheartened, 
 his last thought was that the death so swiftly approaching was 
 the truest friend he had ever known ! 
 
 " As his senses returned he was bewildered by the uproar around 
 him. He was lying in a bunk, in his clothes, still wet, and a man 
 was leaning over him, trickling brandy into his mouth with a 
 spoon. He saw a good-natured face kindling in a smile as he 
 opened his eyes. 
 
 " Ah !" said the man, " we are coming round again ! Keep 
 quiet now, and swallow just two more spoonfuls. So! now, if 
 
 you want to sleep again but stop ! Here, cook ! bring a basin 
 
 of that soup. Can you take a little soup ? I thought so ! How 
 long have you fasted 1 Never mind ! You will be all right by 
 daylight. More soup I Well, cook, give him another basin and 
 no more, and don't let him talk till I come back. Not a word !" 
 
 " Accordingly, as the little doctor bustled away, the first word of 
 the cook, who was a fat Irishwoman, was 
 
 "How did ye get drownded, darliutP 
 
 " What ship is this "?" answered Elbert , 
 
 "The Bellony, darlint; how did ye " 
 
 " Where are we P 
 
 "In port. Port Philip. The divils are all gone crazy about 
 the gowld !" 
 
 " What gold f ' 
 
 " Sure, thin, ye don't live about here ! Why, the gowld they 
 are picking up out of the dirt beyant Melbourne. All the pas 
 sengers and most of the crew are off, and the rest are goin' " 
 
 " How came I here P 
 
 " W T e picked you up this eveniu', just out here in the bay. You 
 was floatin' on a bit of a boat in a dead faint. The ship was nigh 
 runniu' you down, when one of the b'ys see'd yees. It was Pat 
 forninst ye there. The docthor has been workiu' wid you these 
 three hours. Ah ! whist ! here he comes !" and then with an 
 affectionate whine she continued, " ye must just mind the 
 docthor, darliiit, an' keep quite ! He'll tell you everything in the 
 inorn' !" 
 
 " The doctor felt his pulse, which was beating with healthful 
 vigour under his fingers, held the light up to see his pallid cheeks 
 regaining their colour, as the soup and the brandy and the assur 
 ance of safety all combined to work the rapid cure.
 
 CAPTAIN STRONG'S STORY, 55 
 
 " I was capsized in a sudden squall last night or two nights 
 
 ago. I don't know which " 
 
 " All right, my lad !" interrupted the doctor. " You must 
 positively go to sleep now and you can tell your story in the 
 morning. Promise me tluit you will not talk any more until day 
 light." 
 
 " I promise, doctor. But please give me a little more soup." 
 
 " Not a taste ! You are getting along famously now. You 
 shall have a good breakfast by daylight. Go to sleep !" and he 
 clambered up the staircase to the deck. Elbert turned on his 
 side obediently, but was instantly pounced upon by the old 
 woman as soon as the doctor's back was turned. 
 
 " I've brought you a dhrop more of the soup, darlint," she said 
 as she handed him a basin, holding about half a gallon. "The 
 docthor is very good at say ; but we are so near the shore now 
 Holy saints! How the boy does ate! How long have ye starved, 
 darliut ?" 
 
 " Elbert worked away steadfastly until the basin was empty, and 
 then handing it back to the old woman, he pressed his finger on 
 his lip and pointed to the staircase. In another minute he was 
 peacefully sleeping, while the ship was warped into her dock. 
 
 " By the first gray light of the dawn he examined his belt and 
 found his money intact. He rose from his bunk, and, gaining the 
 deck, found the sailors gathered in knots eagerly discussing some 
 subject of universal interest. The Hibernian who had been point 
 ed out to him as the man who pulled him out of the water beck 
 oned him to his side. 
 
 " Do ye know where the gowld counthry is?" was his eager ques 
 tion. 
 
 " No. I am a stranger." 
 
 " There's a dozen of us, all handy boys, who are going to look 
 for the diggin's. Will you go along wid us F 
 
 u Yes. When do you start P 
 
 " As soon as we get our wages. The}' are buzzin' about it now 
 in the cabin. The captain don't want us to lave, but our bargain 
 is out when the ship is docked, and that's now. Half the boys 
 have gone without their wages." 
 
 " Can I go ashore F 
 
 " Sure ye can go when ye plaze. There's the shore and there's 
 the gangway." 
 
 " Amid the confusion Elbert quietly walked ashore. His sailor
 
 56 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 dress was bis passport. He joined a gang of half a dozen at tLe 
 head of the pier and passed from the view of all who knew any 
 thing- of his previous history. Three days later he was at the 
 gold diggings beginning a new life. And that is the end of my 
 story, and with your permission I'll try for some sleep." 
 
 As Mr. Barston rose he turned his haggard face to the light 
 that was swinging at the head of the cabin stairway. Old Mr. 
 Jones supported him. He stopped at the door of my state-room 
 as the ship lurched, and a great wave came aboard and went hiss 
 ing astern. Mr. Barstou fumbled in his bosom and drew out a lit 
 tle box, which he opened, and taking out a large necklace he threw 
 the box on the deck. Mr. Jones picked it up, and then clutched 
 Mr. Barston's arm again. He seemed to have a fit of horrors as 
 he rattled the jewels in his hand. 
 
 " Do you know," he said hoarsely, "do you know that I am mad 
 enough to believe that this accursed bauble is the cause of all my 
 trouble! Ic has been hidden in my bosom for seven dreary years. 
 In all that time, which seems like seven ages, my only solace has 
 been drink. And no\v, as I feel the old fit coming upon me, I have 
 enough manhood left to tear away this infernal chain at least. Lo ! 
 avaunt ! and quit my sight !" 
 
 As he spoke he cast the necklace over the side. A mountain of 
 dark water received it, sparkling like a hundred glow-worms as it 
 disappeared. With a horrid laugh he threw himself on the deck, 
 his body quivering in convulsions. Mr. Jones knelt by him, loosen 
 ed his neckcloth, and raised his head and shoulders with the 
 strength of a giant. 
 
 " Take his legs, captain, please," said the old man, composedly, 
 "and let us get him quietly to his berth." 
 
 " My dear sir, let me call the steward. You can never carry 
 him." 
 
 " But I can, captain," replied the old gentleman. " We don't 
 want any steward. He is quite light. Come on !" 
 
 That Mr. Jones must have been a stunner in his youth. He 
 tripped lightly down the staircase and through the passage way, 
 carrying more than half of our unconscious burden. When we 
 reached Mr. Barston's room, Mr. Jones coolly pushed the door open 
 and we laid him down on the sofa. His poor wife was huddled 
 up in a corner, and to my astonishment little Johnny was in her 
 arms. He was in his night dress and looked just like a little girl. 
 His eyes were something smaller than saucers.
 
 CAPTAIN STRONG'S STORY. 57 
 
 " I heard her crying, papa," said he, as his father looked in 
 mute amazement at them, "and I heard her calling me. She woke 
 me up, crying and calling me, and I had to come." 
 
 " You did right, my darling," answered his father, " but HI take 
 you back to bed now." 
 
 " Oh, please don't take the child from me," said Mrs. Barston, 
 moaning pitifully. "Let her stay with me to-night." The poor 
 woman evidently thought Johnny was a girl, and old Mr. Jones 
 humoured her. 
 
 " You shall have her again to-morrow," he replied, as he took 
 Johnny in his arms, "that is if you are discreet. But now your 
 husband needs attention. The captain will send the doctor to see 
 him. Good night." 
 
 " Let me .kiss her, papa," said Johnny. Mr. Jones held the little 
 fellow down to her and he kissed her tenderly, patting her cheek 
 with his little hands. 
 
 " Heaven bless you, sir," said Mrs. Barston, as he left. " I will 
 do whatever you tell me." 
 
 The next morning the storm had abated, and I put the ship about 
 and ran for Queenstown. As the sun rose we sighted Cape Clear. 
 I announced to the passengers that we should be in Cork harbour 
 in the course of the day, and most of them got on deck. Mrs. 
 Barston was like another woman as she sat on the lee side of the 
 stairway, with little Johnny cuddled up on her lap. The boy was 
 bold as brass and seemed very fond of her. Mr. Barston was 
 doing well, but the doctor kept him in his state-room. Old Mr. 
 Jones was extremely attentive to Mrs. Barston, who seemed to re 
 gard him with a sort of reverence. They spent an hour or more 
 in very earnest conversation, and when the tender left us at Cork 
 Mr. Jones and the boy went off in her. He said he would catch 
 the night boat for Holyhead and be in London the next morning. 
 The sight of land appeared to make him young again, and he 
 skipped about as lively as a kitten. As the tender steamed away 
 he was holding the boy in his arms, who was kissing his chubby 
 hands to Mrs. Barston, while Mr. Jones was singing, as loud as he 
 could, 
 
 u A wet sheet and a flowing sea, 
 And a wind that follows fast." 
 
 He sang elegantly too.
 
 58 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 CHAPTEE VI. 
 
 THE LADIES. 
 
 IF the gentle reader has read all the foregoing, he or she ought to 
 be tolerably well acquainted with the most of the personages 
 that figure in this story. It will be necessary to introduce him or her 
 to two or three others, who thus far have been only incidentally 
 mentioned, and to bring them more prominently into the narrative. 
 Hitherto the author has been obliged to allow the characters to do 
 their own talking, and he has discovered that this is a very unsafe 
 procedure, inasmuch as they rarety know when to stop.. It is a re 
 markable fact, probably known only to authors, that these fictitious 
 people are really more unmanageable than real people. You can 
 not snub them. You cannot change the subject. You cannot 
 walk off and leave them. They will talk. The author fondly hopes 
 that the change will be acceptable to the gentle reader, who is 
 probably a lady, and therefore antagonistic to talkers on prin 
 ciple. 
 
 It is also requisite that the reader, fair as well as gentle, should 
 go back some six or seven years. It is a comfort to know that this 
 also will be easily done, as the honoured sex, of which she is an 
 ornament, proverbially manages this chronological feat with great 
 facility. In fact, the author distinctly remembers several ladies, 
 who were well grown girls forty years ago, who are somewhere 
 in the thirties to-day. 
 
 The time, then, some few years before the events recounted in the 
 preceding pages. The place, the fairest portion of the earth's sur 
 face Devonshire five miles from Exeter, the village of Laving- 
 ton, always thriving and always pretty, with the spire of the church 
 at the south end, and the gray tower of Morton Priory peeping 
 above the green trees of the park at the north. You can just see 
 the flag on the tower, hoisted to indicate that Lord Morton is 
 there. During a large part of the year he resides upon another 
 estate in Essex, for he is a working member of the Upper House, and 
 one of his sons, Mr. Allan Harwood, is the member for Laviiigton 
 in the House of Commons. But this is the season when London 
 is deserted, depopulated a barren wilderness of houses, with only 
 a million or two of its population left.
 
 THE LADIES. 59 
 
 If you will enter the lodge gates and walk through the park 
 you will be charmed with its beauty. The carriage road follows 
 the windings of a little stream, a branch of the Esk, until you 
 reach the rising ground upon which the house is built. You Avill 
 have to go around to the western side, where the ladies are upon 
 the terrace. There are three of them, and with honest trepidation 
 the author begins the hardest part of this true history the de 
 scription of the sovereign rulers of humanity. 
 
 Lady Morton sits in the American rocking chair near the bay 
 window. No fairer specimen of womankind can be found in Her 
 Majesty's dominions. The bloom of youth is not lost but 
 developed into the maturity of the matron. All that was lovely 
 in her beautiful girlhood has ripened into surpassing loveliness at 
 her third climacteric, to which she has now attained. Those 
 honest, bright brown eyes, looking into yours with fearless 
 majesty, are the windows through which you catch a glimpse of 
 the pure woman's soul, full of gentleness and truth. That broad 
 brow, so calm and smooth, without the wrinkles that care brings, 
 or the furrows that sorrow ploughs, betokens the royalty of the 
 wife and mother, whose lightest wish is the undisputed law of her 
 realm. There is a fine curve in her nostril, and a quiet firmness 
 in the lines of her mouth, that indicate the possession of a decided 
 character, yet give no sign of strong-mindedness. You would not 
 think of her as taking part in wordy contests Her countenance 
 gives no such intimation. Over all, like a veil, there is an expres 
 sion of sobriety, which has been wrought by experiences through 
 which her heart and her head reached maturity many years agoue. 
 Placid, wise and good too proud to be haughty, and adorned 
 with too true a humility to be servile, she is to her children the 
 ultimate authority in all questions of taste, of propriety, of morals; 
 and to her lord, the light of his eyes and the pulses of his heart. 
 
 Her daughter, Ket Harwood, who sits near her in the window 
 seat, may be described in the same words if you deduct thirty 
 years and their experiences. The likeness betwixt those two fair 
 women is very remarkable. The golden tints in the hair of the 
 younger have ripened into minute threads of silver in the elder. 
 But you see the same calm eyes, gentle and true, in both. 
 
 Do you expect any description of their dresses? If so, you are 
 doomed to disappointment. No masculine reader would know 
 anything about it, be the description never so elaborate, and the 
 ladies would probably be shocked at the horrid taste displayed if
 
 60 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 they conld see the attire of those who dressed in a fashion now ten 
 years old. Moreover, the author is lamentably ignorant on this 
 general subject, and would be certain to commit some atrocious 
 blunder if he essayed such a description. 
 
 The third lady is something under twenty. She has blue eyes, a 
 profusion of light yellow curls, like floss silk, floating over white 
 shoulders and neck. No signs of sobriety here. She has two 
 rows of pearls that are perpetually visible, when she smiles or 
 talks, which is all the time. This is Miss Clare Tamworth. She 
 is an heiress, an orphan, a Lady-Bountiful at her own home near 
 Clifton, a harmless little flirt, who has never allowed any of her 
 numerous victims to fall deeply in love with her. She has no 
 faculty for sentimental love making, and woe to the wretched 
 wight who attempts sentimental dialogues with her for interlocu 
 tor ! The men who have deliberately set themselves to win this 
 fair prize have never progressed beyond a sigh or two. She con 
 tradicts all established theories. The ready tears spring from her 
 gentle eyes at the recital of a story of sorrow or suffering, but if 
 the raconteur should attempt to slip in a love plea while her heart 
 was thus softened, he would be astounded at the readiness with 
 which the sympathizing tears gave place to merriment and 
 mockery. The unanimous verdict of the men -who sought her 
 favour was that she was utterly heartless. And, like many other 
 unanimous verdicts, it was false. Hitherto the right man had 
 not come. Woe to the man who should really love her and love 
 in vain ! Happy the man who should so love her as to compel a 
 reciprocal passion! As she stood at the edge of the terrace, 
 twining a clematis vine over its frame, she looked like a fairy, free 
 from care, and taking all the enjoyment life afforded, as the hum 
 ming bird takes its sustenance from the free flowers that adorn 
 the earth. 
 
 " Come sit by me, Clare," said Lady Morton, " we must arrange 
 the programme for the week." 
 
 " It is all arranged, my lady," replied Clare. " Eet and I made 
 it up last night." 
 
 " Subject to your approval, mother," said Eet. 
 
 " Let me know what your two wise heads have planned. I re 
 serve the right to amend your plans, remember." 
 
 " First, then," said Miss Tamworth, seating herself as directed, 
 " to-morrow is devoted to the Eed Hall. This is by special invita 
 tion from Sir John, and your veto will not apply here, as your
 
 THE LADIES. 61 
 
 lord and master has accepted ' for self and friends.' We are to 
 lunch there at one." 
 
 " That disposes of to-morrow," answered Lady Morton, " as the 
 gentlemen return here to dinner. Have you arranged the mode of 
 conveyance f ' 
 
 " Yes. You and Eet are to go with Lord Morton and the rec 
 tor in that old stuffy coach. I am to go on horseback, escorted 
 by Sir John. We are to flirt all the way to the Hall and back. 
 Sir John is to take you down to dinner, of course, and he is to flirt 
 with Eet during the evening, while I try to enslave the rector." 
 
 " I wisli you success, my dear. But John is almost as impene 
 trable as yourself." 
 
 " And that is the very reason why I should assault him ! Be 
 sides, he is quite passably handsome. I noticed his whiskers in 
 church yesterday. They are positively elegant !" 
 
 " For shame, Clare !" 
 
 "That is quite en regie, mother," said Eet mischievously. 
 " You know that the chief glory of episcopacy consists in freedom 
 from those little restraints which dissenters practice." 
 
 " I'll tell the rector that speech, Miss Eet !" 
 
 " Very well. But it will accomplish nothing. We have a com 
 pact, Johnny and I, by which I am a dissenter at Harwood House 
 and a churchwoman at Lavington. I made this agreement to 
 avoid scandalizing his flock." 
 
 " What are we to do on Wednesday, girls'?" said Lady Morton. 
 
 " Clare says she is dying for the sea-coast, mother," answered 
 Miss Harwood, "and we thought, if you approved, we would 
 make up a party to the Smuggler's Cave." 
 
 " That involves a drive of forty miles." 
 
 " Only nineteen, mother " 
 
 " And nineteen to return." 
 
 " But you cannot count the return journey, my lady," said Miss 
 Tain worth. " If we get there we are obliged to come home again. 
 The rector says we can gather multitudes of shells, and the cave 
 is a great curiosity." 
 
 11 We will decide about the sea-coast later. What have you for 
 Thursday F 
 
 " We leave that to you, madame," answered Clare. 
 
 " Why, Clare !" said Eet, "you know we had decided to ride to 
 Oakland." 
 
 " Did we?" said Miss Tarn worth. " Well, we must wait for the 
 invitation, I suppose. My programme ends with Wednesday."
 
 62 TEE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 " Mr. Barston is to come on Saturday," observed Lady Morton. 
 " I don't see how you can get an invitation in the meantime." 
 
 "We might meet Mr. Barston," said Clare, blushing a little J 
 " and we saw him in London, you know " 
 
 " Well !" said Lady Morton, amused. 
 
 " Well, ma'am, he invited us to Oakland then that is, he gave 
 a general invitation. The rector says it is the prettiest place in 
 Devonshire." 
 
 " It is very pretty," answered Lady Morton. " I have not been 
 there since Mr. Barston died. Lacy was a mere youth then. He 
 and John were at Oxford, and I have hardly seen him since. 
 I doubt if I should have known him with his great beard if I had 
 not expected him and looked out for him. But one could not be 
 mistaken in his kind eyes who had ever looked into them." 
 
 " Sir John says he is a regular muff," said Clare. 
 
 " Johnny says he is a regular Methodist," said Ret. 
 
 " Your father says he is a spotless gentleman," said her mother. 
 
 " Of course !" replied both young ladies in a breath. 
 
 " You must remember, girls, that he is not very rich " 
 
 11 And take care not to fall in love " 
 
 " Be quiet, Clare ! you know that was not my meaning. I only 
 desired to remind you that you cannot expect Oakland to be very 
 elaborately furnished. One of his quaint sayings is, 'that going 
 in debt is first cousin to stealing,' and he says he has never owed 
 any man anything, and never will. Since he came of age he mor 
 tally otfended a rich old cousin by refusing a loan from him. The 
 old gentleman wished the house repaired and modernized, and 
 offered to advance the necessary funds. He was not entirely dis 
 interested, as he is Lacy's heir-at-law. But the boy stoutly re 
 fused to accept the money, saying he was free born and would 
 not become any man's servant by borrowing. The cousin then 
 proposed to give him the money, or at least to require no security. 
 But Lacy declined, saying a gift involved an obligation only 
 more intolerable than a loan." 
 
 The girls listened with great attention to this story. Clare said 
 nothing, but Eet after a little pause said, 
 
 " I think he did right, mother." 
 
 " Certainly, my dear." 
 
 " Captain Callahan tells a queer story about him, too," said 
 Clare. " He says they were in Paris together a few mouths ago, 
 and Sir John got involved in a quarrel with a Frenchman, who
 
 THE LADIES. 63 
 
 challenged him. Sir John referred the Frenchman s second to Mr. 
 Barston, who was the only countryman he knew. They were at 
 the opera, and on the way to the hotel Mr. Barston recognized the 
 gentleman who presented the cartel, and after the polite formali 
 ties with which those horrid men preface a meeting for murder, 
 Mr. Barston asked him some questions about Sebastopol. You 
 know he was there during the war. The other he was a Captain 
 Dutilh soon became interested and told of a hair-breadth escape 
 both he and his " principal," Sir John's antagonist, had made in 
 the trenches. They were both wounded, and their men had been 
 driven out by the Russians, and while they were under a heavy 
 fire 'some Englishman' had carried them, one at a time, beyond 
 the reach of bullets. They said they certainly i owed their lives 
 to him;' whereupon Mr. Barston mentioned some circumstance 
 that proved himself the deliverer, and then very quietly said he 
 would ' take the settlement now.' And the result was the with 
 drawal of the challenge and an interchange of explanations. The 
 curious part of the story was the literal acceptance by Mr. Barston 
 of the Frenchman's professions. Captain Callahau says he coolly 
 told Dutilh that, having the choice of weapons, he should choose 
 cavalry sabres, and Sir John being invincible with that weapon, 
 would kill his friend, whose life belonged to Mm, Barston, and 
 therefore the foolish quarrel must be made up." 
 
 a Johnny told me about that, mother," said Eet. " He says Mr. 
 Barston never intended to let them fight at all. He had concocted 
 some wild scheme to stop the duel when his recognition of Cap 
 tain Dutilh suggested the other plan." 
 
 " Your father has had charge of both these young gentlemen 
 since the death of Mr. Barston's father, and he has frequently told 
 me of Mr. Lacy Barston's eccentricities, as he calls them. I have 
 seen very little of him since his boyhood, but he is a prime favourite 
 of mine in spite of his pranks. He was a terrible young rascal in 
 his boyish days." 
 
 " He is tolerably given to tricks still," observed Miss Tarn worth. 
 " I have heard of some recent escapades of his, in which his bosom 
 friend, Sir John, participated; but I have never heard of any 
 harm following his practical jokes." 
 
 " Sir John has improved vastly since they were schoolmates of 
 my boys. He was passionate and quarrelsome, and his cousin, 
 Barston, was perpetually getting him out of scrapes. Lord Mor 
 ton was present when old Mr. Barston died, and heard him give a
 
 64 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 solemn charge to his son to take special care of his cousin. 
 1 While he lives, my son,' he said, ' remember that he is your 
 mother's kinsman, and as you revere her memory, be father, 
 brother and friend to John Lacy.' The quaint manner in which 
 young Barston has fulfilled this obligation has amused your father 
 many times, but he tells me that he has faithfully and effectually 
 performed his duty in this matter." 
 
 " I suppose the baronet is out of leading-strings by this time," 
 said Miss Harwood. 
 
 " He never knew that he was led, I fancy," replied Lady Mor 
 ton; "but he has always been disposed to rely upon Barston in 
 any emergency." 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE GENTLEMEN. 
 
 IK the village of Lavington the most attractive and most com 
 fortable house is the rectory. It was built by Lord Morton 
 very soon after his inheritance of the barony. He demolished two 
 or three cottages to make room for the garden and lawn, and the 
 young trees he had planted here are grown to a good size. It 
 stands near the church, whose stately spire, at the south end of 
 the town, faces the gray tower of Morton Priory at the north. 
 There is a modest chapel, held by dissenters, midway the main 
 street, and this also was the gift of the lord of the soil, who is 
 himself a dissenter, though the family attend the church when 
 they are in Devonshire. It is a noteworthy fact also that the 
 rector and the Presbyterian minister are close friends, which is 
 not often the case in English towns, m ore's the pity. 
 
 The rector's library was lighted by one large bay window open 
 ing upon the lawn, and here were gathered four gentlemen, indus 
 triously filling every nook and corner of the room with tobacco 
 smoke. It was a little past noon, and the debris of luncheon 
 encumbered the table behind them, as the}' had drawn their chairs 
 to the open window, and gazed lazily out upon the green lawn 
 while they enjoyed their cigars. 
 
 Peering through the smoke, you may see the handsome face of 
 Lord Morton, so much more handsome than any of the others, as
 
 TEE GENTLEMEN. 65 
 
 experience, and gravity that grows out of experience, and the sense 
 of responsibility and fixity of purpose, the result of laborious 
 thought and kindly interest i : humankind beautify the counte 
 nance. These overbalanced the fancied advantages of lightly bur 
 dened youth. His long brown whiskers have sundry silver threads 
 in them which are positive adornments. His bold gray eyes, full of 
 truth and kindness, twinkle like stars at small provocation, be 
 cause he carries in his bosom a perennial fountain of humour, 
 which he perpetually labours to smother, and perpetually fails to 
 do it. He must keep up the dignity of the statesman and legis 
 lator. His joyous holidays are the days he spends in company 
 with his wife and children at Morton Priory, where he gets rid of 
 a volume of jokes accumulated in previous months of repression. 
 He attained manhood in early youth by brave endurance of deep 
 heart sorrows, and his subsequent life has been passed in sunlight. 
 No one of his four children has the remotest touch of jealousy of 
 any of the others, and his friendship, over and above his fatherly 
 love for them, is their dearest inheritance. 
 
 The rector, or " Parson Johnny," as he is universally called by 
 his kindred the name being given him by his father when he 
 first turned his attention to theological studies is the next to come 
 into view. He com.es of a handsome stock and shows it. Like 
 his father, he cultivates a pair of side whiskers, long and silky, 
 but he has inherited a sedateness of demeanour from some other 
 ancestor that his immediate progenitor missed. There are certain 
 indications of his clerical vocation about his attire, and probably 
 also in his countenance and demeanour. The guileless simplicity 
 of his character has fitted him most accurately for his calling. 
 The air of truthfulness and fearless honesty in his eyes, and tones, 
 and gestures, is the heritage of his race. He is a man of parts, 
 has been a diligent student, and were it not for a sort of laxity in 
 his grasp of theological dogmas, in so far as these apply to minor 
 points, and a sort of readiness to find correspondencies betwixt 
 his creed and that of dissenters, he might aspire to high prefer 
 ment in the church. 
 
 Sir John Lacy is in the cushioned arm-chair. He has a habit 
 of falling into soft spots and of taking special care of his own com 
 fort. With many praiseworthy qualities, he has this sort of pol 
 ished selfishness that distinguishes well-bred Englishmen from 
 men of other nationalities. He was a soldier in the Crimean war 
 a cavalry subaltern and he brought back with him an unscarred 
 
 5
 
 66 THE LACY DIAMONDS.. 
 
 body and a good reputation. It could not be said of him that be 
 shrunk from exposure to any danger that came in the line of duty, 
 faut he did not volunteer for the mere sake of incurring risks. He 
 fought well and valiantly, when fighting was to be done, and 
 complained fretfully of the privations iucideut to camp life when 
 the battle was over. He is a little vain of his shapely person, 
 especially when he dons his uniform. He is colonel now of a regi 
 ment of volunteer riflemen, and the ultimate authority in military 
 matters at Lavington. He has sleepy looking blue eyes and a 
 profusion of tawny beard, and would be remarkably good looking 
 if he were not contrasted with Lord Morton and the Eevereud 
 John Harwood. 
 
 You need not waste much time in examination of the other 
 occupant of the library. Nothing striking here ; only a plain ath 
 lete Lacy Barston. He also was soldiering; when his cousin 
 went to the Crimea he went with him. Nothing special was said 
 about his prowess, and in fact there was not much chance for dis 
 tinction in his regiment. a He was a jolly companion and a very 
 safe sabre to have at one's bridle-arm in a cavalry charge." This 
 was Sir John's judgment, and I may remark here that Barston 
 always managed to take that precise position in their short war ex 
 perience. He was " whimsical, but true as steel." This was Par 
 son Johnny's judgment, and I think he probably knew Barston's 
 interior life better than any other. He was " a gentleman in 
 every pulsation of his heart." This Lord Morton said, and there 
 was no better judge. As he sits apart there, blowing the fragrant 
 smoke through his thick moustache, you would not give him a 
 second look unless you should chance to catch a glance from his 
 deep blue eyes, so earnest, so thoughtful revealing a capacity for 
 unmeasured jollity, and if you are swift enough to detect it a 
 limitless capacity for tears as well. 
 
 These are very slight sketches. Will the reader please fill up 
 the rude outlines? or, still better, wait until these gentlemen 
 " pronounce" themselves in the course of the story ? 
 
 " I must say, Parson Johnny," said Lord Morton, " that you are 
 a capital judge of cigars." 
 
 " Do you like the flavour, father ?" 
 
 " Yes, very much. I believe they are better than my Cabanas." 
 
 " That cannot be," objected Sir John ; " those Cabanas you gave 
 us in London should be branded ne plus ultra. These are very 
 fine, parson, but your father is perhaps the only man in Eng 
 land that can produce anything better."
 
 THE GENTLEMEN. 67 
 
 "What is your verdict, Barston f said the rector. 
 
 " I have a special reason for withholding it in this presence. 
 Be content to know that they are good enough." 
 
 " Come, sir," said Lord Morton, " you only excite our curiosity. 
 Favour us with your opinion." 
 
 " Not unless Parson Johnny insists ; ' 
 
 " Certainly I insist. Always obey your seniors !" 
 
 Mr. Barston took a letter from his pocket, which he unfolded 
 with great reluctance. Glancing over it he hesitated, shook his 
 head, and put it back. 
 
 " Cannot do it ! It is too cold-blooded!" he said. 
 
 " If you don't read that letter," said Sir John, half rising, " we 
 three will throttle you and take it by force ! I see it is one of 
 your tricks, but you cannot escape us all !" 
 
 " I am too lazy to fight, but I do not doubt that I could evade 
 you. I will read the postscript. This letter is from Parson 
 Johnny, who orders me to read it. ' P. S. If you are at Har- 
 wood House, old Swiss, please get the butler's key and look on 
 the first shelf at the right of the door, and steal me a box or two 
 of father's Cabanas. You had better get one Colorado and one 
 Oscuro. The latter are the better, but father is coming down and 
 
 he prefers the others ' " He put up the letter and continued, 
 
 " These are the Colorados !" 
 
 " You young rascals !" said Lord Morton, when the laugh had 
 subsided, " do you keep up all your supplies in this fashion V 
 
 " Oh no, sir," answered the rector. " You know my bachelor 
 establishment is very inexpensive. I am pretty well supplied 
 with cigars, anyhow, and this theft was perpetrated wholly in 
 your own interests. I might have written you to bring some 
 1 Colorados,' but it looked so awkward to invite an expected guest 
 to furnish his own cigars. Swiss, did you get a box for yourself f ' 
 
 " Certainly not," said Barston, indignantly. "As Lord Morton 
 prefers the light cigars, may I ask why you ordered the Oscurosf 
 
 " Why for you, of course. You agreed with me in thinking the 
 dark ones better when we were at Harwood House in the spring." 
 
 " My lord," said Mr. Barston, "you cannot trust Parson Johnny. 
 He might send some less honest person into your house, and rob 
 you more shameful^. I hope I need not say that I did not bor 
 row ' the butler's key.' .Nothing would induce me to do such a 
 thing." 
 
 " May I inquire how you got the cigars, then 1"
 
 68 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 "I did not get them at all, sir. I just read Parson Johnny's 
 letter to your hopeful son, Allen.'' 
 
 " A nice lot of vipers I have raised !" said Lord Morton, pre 
 tending to sigh. " I suppose Allen did not object f 
 
 " On the contrary, he said it was jolly. ' You see, Swiss,' he 
 said, 'it will play two tricks on father at once. First, he is 
 awfully stingy about the Cabanas, and second, it will be prime 
 fun for Parson Johnny to make him run down his own cigars !" 
 
 The senior joined in the laugh with great enjoyment. " I have 
 never heard," he said at last, " how Mr. Barston obtained his title. 
 I know you boys have been calling him ' Swiss' since your school 
 days " 
 
 "Let me tell that story, father," said the rector, eagerly, " that 
 is, unless ' Swiss' wishes to relate his own adventures '?" 
 
 " Not I. You have so vivid an imagination that it always re 
 freshes me to hear your yarns. If you mean the cow story, though, 
 you have no right to call that my adventure." 
 
 " Well, let father decide. You remember, sir, that we were all 
 at Oxford together, and all freshmen. Barston could have entered 
 the higher class, but he generously declined to start ahead of us. 
 As far as rascality was concerned, his education was already 
 finished. All of the ordinary villauies of freshmen he disdained, 
 but constantly invented new tricks to astound the authorities. He 
 was never caught, and kept up a fine reputation by perfect recita 
 tions, exemplary behaviour during hours, attendance at chapel, 
 and general outward rectitude. But at night l Swiss ' displayed 
 his peculiar talent, and the rest of us used to wait patiently for 
 his guidance. One of our special enemies was old Doctor Blixem, 
 who had a favourite cow, and one night Barston unfolded his 
 scheme, which was to put old Blixem's cow on the roof of our 
 dormitory. I can't tell you how he got her up stairs " 
 
 " I twisted her tail," interrupted Barstou, coolly. " There's a 
 great deal of fuss made about scientific discoveries, but the 
 fact is, the most of them have been either accidental or else 
 suggested by some corresponding law in nature. There is the 
 steam engine business ; one fellow, I remember, is said to have 
 discovered steam power by being half drunk and throwing a 
 ' Florence flask,' whatever that is, into the fire. The flask con 
 tained a little wine, and it bubbled up and made steam, and blew 
 the fellow up, or the back out of the fire-place, I forget which. 
 Another chap saw the tea-kettle lid bobbing up and down, and he
 
 TEE GENTLEMEN. 69 
 
 made an independent steam discovery. Then Mr. Watt made the 
 engine and got the credit. Now, here is the application of power 
 to the stern of vessels the propeller instead of the paddle wheels. 
 No fellow was wise enough to think of propulsion, but the paddle 
 wheel was universal. Now I venture to assert that the screw pro 
 peller was suggested to some boy who screwed a cow's tail to 
 make her go j but when he came to apply his discovery to steam 
 ship navigation, he had not the manliness to confess where he got 
 his inspiration. Again, if I do not weary you " 
 
 " Go on, go on !" said his audience. 
 
 "Well, the propeller only half does the work after all. No;v, 
 an experienced man can not only propel the cow, but can steer her. 
 I steered Blixein's cow, and she was awfully green and cranky, 
 and kicked abominably. I am sure I could put that cow up stairs, 
 after a little practice, without a baulk. But I tire you " 
 
 " Go on, go on!" said his listeners. 
 
 "Well, gentlemen, I feel indignant when I seethe amazing pre 
 tension of these inventors ! Who has ever tried to steer a ship 
 with the screw $ Some villain has got a patent, no doubt, and is 
 now rolling in wealth, for applying an original discovery of mine 
 and Blixem's cow! Proceed with your narrative, Parson Johnny. 
 I have finished." 
 
 Parson Johnny indulged in a quiet laugh and went on. 
 
 " Anyhow, he got her up and on the roof. There is a balcony 
 about large enough to hold the cow, and there he left her. During 
 the night she lowed dismally, and Barston said she wished to be 
 milked. So he took a bucket up and actually milked her while 
 the rest of us watched on the campus. While thus employed he 
 sang melodiously : 
 
 ' Come, arouse thee, arouse thee, my brave Swiss boy, 
 Take thy pail and to labour away I* 
 
 He had and still has a magnificent voice, and old Blixem heard 
 him. The next day the cow was got down with blocks and pul 
 leys, and we were all hauled up for examination. Old Blixem 
 was in a great rage because the cow had been milked, and was 
 intent only upon finding the milker. None of us had any trouble 
 about denying that part of the business, until Barston's turn 
 came, when the doctor said he would not insult so exemplary a 
 gentleman by questioning him, especially as he had heard him 
 singing in his room at the very hour when the milking must have 
 been done. We all got off, and of course Barston became the 
 1 Swiss Boy' at once.
 
 70 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 " Did it end in this way F asked Lord Morton. 
 
 "Ob, no. Swiss told Blixem the whole story before the term 
 was over, and that was the brightest manifestation of his genius. 
 lie said the cow was a very valuable animal, and he thought it 
 would injure her to let her go unmilked, and therefore he did it. 
 Blixem not only forgave him but thanked him." 
 
 " Doctor Blixem is a regular trump, sir," said Mr. Barston. l - We 
 were fast friends, and he helped me over many a tough place. I 
 could not take so many kindnesses from him, you know, without 
 clearing that cow out of the way. I had to tell him." 
 
 " Well, sir," said Lord Morton, rising, " I have several cows at 
 Morton Priory, and they are all at your service. Come, stay there 
 while we are in Devonshire. It will be more cheerful for you than 
 your solitary life at Oakland, and a great favour to me." 
 
 " You are very kind, my lord, and I frankly accept your invita 
 tion to spend as much time as I can at your house. No other house 
 in England is so attractive to me." 
 
 " And no guest will be more welcome than yourself, Lacy. Shall 
 I send for your traps ?" 
 
 " No need, sir. Parson Johnny will drive me over when I am 
 ready. He must have a drag, you know, to take his big fiddle." 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 THE RED HALL. 
 
 IT was a bright noon-tide in August when the gay party passed 
 through the lodge gates and caught sight of the tall gray 
 tower of Sir John Lacy's house. This tower had been known in 
 former days as the Lacy Keep, and was more ancient, by several 
 centuries, than the rest of the building, which had been added to 
 the tower, a bit at a time, and without regard to architectural rules. 
 The park surrounding the Hall was almost a wilderness, as the 
 property had been totally neglected during the baronet's minority. 
 But as Lord Morton's carriage, followed by the two equestrians, 
 drew nearer the buildiugs, the signs of renovation increased. The 
 \viudows were all open, and the scaffolding of the workmen covered 
 all the main front. The disagreeable odour of paint pervaded the 
 larger part of the house, and was escaped only when they reached
 
 THE RED HALL. 71 
 
 the dining room, which was the ground floor of the old Keep. Here 
 there had been no improvement attempted. The walls were wains 
 coted, and the grim old furniture, all oaken, like the walls, gave 
 an air of antiquity corresponding with the marks of age distin 
 guishing this part of the edifice. The large dining table in the 
 centre was covered with a snowy cloth, upon which the noonday 
 repast was spread when the party entered. 
 
 tl I bid you welcome to the Red Hall, my lady," said Sir John, 
 with courtly grace, offering his arm, " and I beg you to honour 
 me so far as to occupy the throne, at the head of the table." 
 
 u That were an ill omen, Sir John," she replied ; " take the head 
 yourself and allow me to sit at your right hand." 
 
 " I accept your presence here as the harbinger of better days 
 for the Hall. This is my first appearance since the renovation 
 began. Later in the summer I hope to take more formal possess 
 ion, when you and my lord will preside at a regular festival. It will 
 be his valedictory, as he relinquishes his guardianship and inducts 
 the heir of all the Lacys into his heritage. Parson Johnny, you 
 may sit next Miss Tamworth, at the end of the table. I have been 
 sounding your praises on our way hither. See that you keep up 
 your reputation. Miss Harwood, my love, be seated. Serve, 
 Thomas !" 
 
 It was a recherche little feast. Sir John had brought a cook with 
 him from Paris, and that artist won golden opinions from the hun 
 gry party. Green turtle, some chops, a salad, and a little wine. 
 English men and women in sound health extract enjoyment from 
 feeding that other nationalities are strangers to. After the repast, 
 which was prolonged a little by all, Lord Morton dismissed the 
 ladies with great politeness. 
 
 " You will have an hour, ladies," he said, " in which to explore. 
 Sir John desires you to investigate every nook and corner 
 
 " And beware of the paint " put in the baronet. 
 
 "And while you are absent," continued Lord Morton, " I will 
 have to indulge these boys in a smoke. Parson Johnny stole a lot 
 of my cigars, and has a supply with him. My lady, I beg you 4;o 
 keep the keys at your girdle hereafter. It begins to grow serious 
 when they get after my Cabanas !" 
 
 " Nobody had the keys except Allen," said Lady Morton. 
 
 "I think you had better make no exceptions. Allen, I learn, 
 thought it special fun to rob his poor old father, because he fan 
 cied I was particularly u stingy" about my cigars. Certainly these
 
 72 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 sons of mine have inherited their proclivities from your side of the 
 house, as no ancestor of mine was ever caught in such tricks." 
 
 "My kindred have always borne a good reputation," replied Lady 
 Morton, with pretended dignity. " You bear the name of one of 
 them whose history is part of the history of England." 
 
 "Well, well! I will say no more. If you once get a woman 
 talking about the virtues of her ancestry, there is no telling when 
 she will stop. Allow me to indicate the way. Keep the corridor 
 the whole length of the new building. The staircase is at the end. 
 No danger of paint up stairs. It is all dry. Come, Parson, pro 
 duce your stolen property. I hope you will give us a sermon upon 
 honesty next Sunday." 
 
 Leaving the smokers reeking in the fumes of the vile weed with 
 which they poisoned the pure air, we will follow the ladies in their 
 explorations. At the end of the long hall they found the stair 
 case, and at its foot a little old woman with a bunch of keys in 
 her hand. 
 
 " Mrs. Froome, the housekeeper, my lady," she said, dropping a 
 curtesy to Lady Morton. " I am to show you the way." 
 
 She tripped lightly up the steps with this introduction, followed 
 by the ladies, who looked with surprise at each other and at the 
 active little body that preceded them. Arrived at the first landing, 
 she faced them again and fumbled among her keys, chatting vol 
 ubly the while. 
 
 " This corridor, my lady, is on the back of the house, and all the 
 rooms on this floor open upon the front lawn. Since Sir Elbert's 
 death nobody has lived here except my grandson, Thomas, and 
 myself. You saw Thomas, the butler, at luncheon." 
 
 "Your grandson!" said Miss Tarn worth, " why he is fifty years 
 old !" 
 
 "Yes. I am ninety-one. I have lived eighty years in the Eed 
 Hall. This is the yellow room. It is the principal guest chamber. 
 The furniture has not been renewed in my lifetime, and is faded a 
 good bit. Mr. Lacy says we cannot have any new furniture at 
 present." 
 
 "You mean Sir John?" said Miss Harwood. 
 
 " No, ma'am. I mean Mr. Barston. He has ordered all the 
 repairs, and Sir John has only been here once or twice. Mr. Lacy's 
 father was Sir John's guardian, you know, and since he died, Mr. 
 Lacy has been watching over him like an older brother. Isn't it 
 strange," and here she. dropped her voice into a confidential whis-
 
 TEE RED HALL. 13 
 
 per " isn't it strange that Sir John should look exactly like Sir 
 Ranald ! I will show you his portrait presently. None of the 
 Lacys have resembled him, and they do say as Sir Ranald was the 
 first of the line. But I beg your pardon for chattering so much." 
 
 " Go on, Mrs. Froome, if you please," said Lady Morton, " we 
 are very much interested." 
 
 " Well, my lady," resumed Mrs. Froome, " they used to say, ever 
 so long ago, that the last Lacy would look like Sir Ranald. There 
 is nothing about it in the prophecy." 
 
 "The prophecy!" said all three of her listeners. 
 
 " Yes. Many a time I have heard it. This chamber is Sir 
 John's. You see there is modern furniture here. That is the door 
 of the dressing room. There is another dressing room adjoining, 
 and then comes my lady's room. You can go through the two 
 doors. No fear of paint. It has been quite dry for a week. You 
 can see Oakland from this window." 
 
 "The view is charming," said Lady Morton; "but you were 
 speaking of the prophecy." 
 
 "Yes, my lady, if you are not tired we will go to Sir Ra 
 nald's room. It is in the tower just over the dining room." She 
 unlocked the door as she spoke, and passing the other chambers, 
 reached the end of the corridor. Descending two or three steps 
 she opened a door, deeply set in the thick wall, and entered a spa 
 cious chamber almost bare of furniture. The walls were hung 
 with old tapestry. A large sofa covered with crimson velvet, and 
 two or three arm chairs to match, were grouped together in the 
 centre of the room. The tapestry was of the same colour, and there 
 was a sombre air about the apartment in spite of the bright sun 
 light that streamed in at the open windows. A faded red carpet 
 covered the floor, apparently more worn by age than by use. At one 
 end of the room a large open fire-place, with great brazen andirons, 
 highly polished. A red fire screen, folded, leaned against the wall 
 near by ; opposite, a variety of armour was arranged, some sus 
 pended upon the antlers of a deer, fastened to the wall, and some 
 hanging from iron hooks. In the midst of the armour, a large 
 gilt frame, the picture being covered with a crimson cloth. The 
 room and its furniture, scrupulously free from dust, had an inde 
 finable, weird aspect, that sensibly affected the visitors. The old 
 housekeeper seemed to enjoy the effect of this show chamber upon 
 the ladies with a grisly satisfaction, that was positively comical, 
 upon her bright and pleasant countenance. She wheeled the sofa
 
 74 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 round, facing the light, and when the ladies were seated, she drew 
 one of the chairs in front of them, and evidently indicated by her 
 whole demeanour, as she seated herself, that she was prepared to 
 gratify their curiosity if they chose to question her. My fair 
 reader, they were descendants of your ancestress, Mother Eve. 
 Need 1 tell you that they did ? 
 
 " We always show this room to visitors," began Mrs. Froome, 
 smoothing her apron a but I don't have much to say about the 
 family to strangers, of course. But you are kinsfolk, and after 
 Mr. Lacy, you are the nighest kin Sir John has. I have heard 
 many bits of stories about the old Lacys, and maybe you can 
 tell me some things I don't know." 
 
 " Indeed, Mrs. Frooine, we know very little. We can hardly be 
 called kindred, however. Lord Morton's grandmother, I think, was 
 married to one of the Lacys but I am not sure. I have never 
 heard a word about the prophecy, and hope you will tell us about 
 it, that is, if there is no family secret that should not be revealed." 
 
 The old woman nodded pleasantly, and ambling to the window 
 she pointed to the gentlemen sauntering under the trees a quarter 
 of a mile off. 
 
 " They won't be back under an hour," she said, smacking her 
 lips. " Of course there is nothing to conceal, leastways from you. 
 But to tell you about the prophecy I must begin with Sir Ranald." 
 She resumed her seat, and without more ado furnished the ma 
 terial for the succeeding chapter. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 SIR RANALD DE LACY. 
 
 T CANNOT tell you, ladies, in what reign Sir Ranald lived. I 
 think it was in the time of Henry V. I know he fought in some 
 French battle, and I think it was Azincourt. He was a great 
 warrior and a favourite of the king in spite of his religion. All the 
 Lacys have been Protestants. It is said of Sir Ranald that he 
 kept his religious views to himself, though he was very intolerant 
 when he could safely indulge his prejudices. He was called the 
 " Fighting Lollard." After the great battle of Azincourt the Eng 
 lish army overran Normandy, and it was here that Sir Ranald's 
 story begins.
 
 SIR RANALD DE LACY. 75 
 
 It was at the siege of a French castle where the defenders fought 
 with great desperation uoder the Count De Lys. When the Eng 
 lish got in at last they still fought from room to room, and finally 
 the count aud his family, driven into the topmost chamber, made 
 their last despairing stand. Sir Ranald gained this room with two 
 or three of his followers, and it is said that he killed two of the 
 count's daughters who were fighting like men, with his own hand, 
 and cruelly wounded the third, who fought like a tigress over her 
 father's body. But she was not killed, aud when the conquerors 
 returned to the main army Sir Ranald brought her with him. 
 There was a great lot of booty gained and Sir Ranald got the lion's 
 share, all in jewelry of value. To make himself secure in the pos 
 session of this wealth he married the Lady Marie, a French priest 
 performing the ceremony while the lady was thought to be dying 
 from her wounds. There is a legend which says Sir Ranald bought 
 the priest to consent by professing to renounce his religion, and 
 the Lady Marie, who was very bigoted, consented because she 
 thought she was dying aud wished to secure a higher place in 
 Heaven by saving a notable heretic like the Fighting Lollard, 
 whose name was a terror in all that region. She did not die, how 
 ever, but came to England and lived a year in this very tower? 
 which then stood alone in the midst of the Lacy lauds, which in 
 those days reached to Morton Priory. 
 
 Once secure in his own home, Sir Ranald's conversion faded away- 
 All his retainers were Lollards, aud nobody got entrance to the 
 Lacy Keep but Protestants. There was great strife between him and 
 his French wife, which culminated in declared hostility when Sir 
 Ranald had his infant son baptized by a Lollard preacher. He 
 laughed at her vehement recital of his former vows, and when she 
 reminded him that the most solemn part of his promise related to 
 the faith of any children that might be borii to him, he said his 
 promises to the priest were an " agreement with hell," and were 
 annulled by a more solemn authority. The unhappy lady, who 
 was of a violent temper, then declared the marriage was null also, 
 and announced her intention of quitting Lacy Keep with the child 
 at the first opportunity. Whereupon Sir Rauald imprisoned her 
 in the room above this, and carried the key at his belt, taking her 
 daily food to her with his own hands and allowing no communica 
 tion with her whatever. 
 
 You know t^ie country was in a very disturbed state in those 
 days. The Lollards were persecuted and slaiu, wherever it could
 
 76 TEE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 be done, and this particular locality was the scene of many bitter 
 feuds. All the nobles nearest the Keep were Catholics, and if it 
 had not been for other wars that drew attention from this little 
 corner of the kingdom, Sir Ranald would have found it hard to 
 hold his lands. Besides this, his old reputation as the Fighting 
 Lollard stood him in stead, as it was well known that the taking 
 of the Lacy Keep would be a most costly victory. 
 
 I should have told you earlier that Sir Ranald had a half-brother, 
 though not of the Lacy blood. His mother was the widow of Sip 
 Anthony Vane, and her son was two or three years older than Sir 
 Ranald. This man, Sir Hubert Vane, was a rigid Catholic, and 
 on that account, a favourite of the king. He was also an accom. 
 plished courtier, contrasting strongly with Sir Ranald, who was 
 more of a warrior, and whose religious prejudices were opposed to 
 the frivolities and excesses of court life. There was a hollow friend 
 ship between the half brothers, though each secretly despised the 
 other. After the marriage of Sir Ranald the courtier visited the 
 Keep once only, bringing some message from the king, and was, 
 entertained with all the hospitality due from a Lacy to a 'guest. 
 In the few days Sir Hubert spent at the Keep he managed to in 
 gratiate himself with Lady De Lacy, and to establish very confiden 
 tial relations with her, partly on the score of kinship and partly 
 on the ground of a common faith. It was just at the time that 
 Sir Ranald began to display the cloven foot of the Lollard, equal 
 ly hateful to his wife and his kinsman. They parted in anger at 
 last, each regretting that the accident of birth forbade an appeal 
 to the arguments they carried in their scabbards. 
 
 After the birch of her sou, the countess she called herself the 
 Countess De Lys resided constantly in her chamber. I would 
 take you up to see it but it is not necessary. It is like this room, 
 but has never since been used except as a lumber room. I sup 
 pose no one who ever heard the story of the countess would sleep 
 in it for the Lacy lands. Sir Ranald spent some hours each day 
 with her, treating her with great courtesy at all times, steadfastly 
 refusing to discuss the question of creeds, and steadfastly refus 
 ing to release her from this imprisonment. All that he could give 
 her, except liberty, she had. But when he left her she and the 
 infant spent the long hours alone, seeing no countenance and hear 
 ing no voice but his for weary months. He dared not allow her 
 maids to attend upon her, as he knew she would fulfil her threat 
 to quit the Keep upon the first opportunity. But her woman's 
 wit was too much for all his precautions.
 
 SIR RANALD DE LACY. 77 
 
 Of course the forced seclusion of the countess was known be 
 yond the walls of Lacy Keep. Stories of that sort are very apt 
 to get out. And it happened that Sir Hubert Vane heard of the 
 birth of the child, of the mother's imprisonment, and, probably, 
 of the cause. 
 
 Sir Hubert came to Exeter with a body of men-at-arms. One 
 day, when De Lacy was in the lady's chamber, an arrow came in 
 at the window and fell at his feet. He took it up and found a 
 billet fastened to the barb. It was from his half brother, address 
 ed to his wife, proposing to deliver her from her imprisonment^ 
 and appointing' the next night for her flight.. The letter also said 
 that the king promised his protection, and that the church would 
 annul her marriage with her heretic lord, but would assure the 
 succession of the Lacy estates to her child. The countess sat 
 quietly by while he read the letter, and no words passed between 
 them. Sir Ranald retired from the room and passed the earlier 
 hours of the night in perfecting his plans to circumvent his wife 
 and kinsman. It was a serious business to defy the king ; it was 
 a far lighter matter to slay his kinsman. He concluded at last to 
 question the countess again, and if she refused to obey him, to re 
 move the child. Accordingly, he climbed the stair again, torch 
 in hand, and reentered her apartment. It was empty. He rushed 
 to the open window and saw the rope ladder fastened to the sill 
 heard the tramp of horses' feet, at the very base of the Keep. A 
 bow and a sheaf of arrows stood near the window, and catching up 
 the weapon he discharged an arrow into the darkness. He heard 
 it ring against a steel corslet, heard a shriek and a curse. He 
 threw down the bow, and with a Lacy's recklessness leaped upon 
 the window sill, grasped the frail ladder, and in another moment 
 was on the ground, sword in hand. At the same instant the court 
 yard gate was flung open and half a dozen men from the Keep 
 rushed out with torches and flashing weapons. The horsemen 
 fled, all but one, and he was encumbered with the lady. He drew 
 his sword, however, and spurring upon Sir Eanald, met his ready 
 weapon. Before the retainers reached the spot the combat was 
 over. The long sword of the Fighting Lollard had passed through 
 the body of his half-brother and slightly wounded the countess, 
 hanging nearly lifeless upon his arm. Sir Ranald's arrow had 
 glanced from the knight's corslet and pierced the body of his wife. 
 
 When the bodies were taken into the Keep the jewels belonging 
 to the Countess De Lys were found in the bosom of Sir Hubert
 
 78 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 Vane. He had unclasped his corslet and thrust the precious 
 packet in the breast of his leathern doublet. Before he had time to 
 refasten his armour the impetuous assault of Sir Eanald compelled 
 him to betake himself to his weapon, and he had dealt one blow 
 upon the unprotected head of the furious Lollard an instant be 
 fore the latter's blade had found the opening in his corslet. If it 
 had not been for his anxiety to secure the jewels he would have 
 escaped the sword thrust. And his blood was the first that stain 
 ed them since they had become the Lacy Diamonds." 
 
 Lady Morton started. 
 
 Yes, my lady, his was the first. They got plenty of stains later. 
 
 Such rude surgery as was practiced in that day was soon 
 applied. The wounds were bound up, the lady carried back to 
 her chamber, and the dying knight placed upon Sir Eanald's own 
 couch. Before he died his incoherent mutterings revealed that 
 the jewels were the real attraction that had brought him to his 
 death, and not the poor countess. Fearful of attracting attention, 
 he had come to the Keep with but three of his followers. To one 
 of them he had confided the child, directing him to ride to his 
 camp near Exeter, and he was speedily followed by the others, 
 when half a dozen armed men issued from the Keep. The corres 
 pondence between Sir Hubert and the lady had been carried on 
 by arrows, the countess being able to bend a bow equal to a man- 
 at-arms. Those old oaks you see from the west window sheltered 
 the knight and his men. And when Sir Eanald. had retired with 
 the intercepted letter, she immediately sent a shaft into the wood 
 bearing a note in which she besought Sir Hubert to deliver her 
 that night. The note was found in his doublet. 
 
 The knight died and was buried among the Lacys with due 
 honours. The countess lingered day by day, weeping for her lost 
 child. Sir Eanald's wound was slight, and the day after the com 
 bat he was scouring the country in search of his heir, but no trace 
 of him could be found. The men-at-arms that had been encamped 
 at Exeter had disappeared, leaving no clue by which they could 
 be followed. No information could be obtained from the dying 
 countess, and Sir Eanald, baffled and wearied, after three days of 
 fruitless search returned to the Keep in despair. He found his 
 wife speechless and insensible, evidentl3 T entering the dark valley; 
 and when the sun disappeared behind the fatal wood the lady's 
 attendants announced to Sir Eanald that she had ceased to 
 breathe.
 
 TEE PROPHECY. 79 
 
 OHAPTEE X. 
 THE PROPHECY. 
 
 WHILE the women were busied preparing for the burial of 
 Lady De Lacy, Sir Eanald paced his chamber in deep dis 
 tress. His life had been passed in contention and strife, but since 
 Azincourt, where he had won great renown by his prowess, he 
 had been followed by a series of misfortunes. In the storming of 
 the Castle De Lys he had stained his sword with the blood of 
 women, and the savage cruelty of that day's work saddened his 
 after life. It is very probable that the wounds he had inflicted in 
 the heat of that last struggle in Normandy were given in self- 
 defence, for the legend says the French women were armed cap-a- 
 pie" and fought like the Amazons of ancient times, and in this 
 last catastrophe he had certainly slain his wife by accident. There 
 was a proverb extant that declared the " sword that slew woman 
 or priest" was accursed, and Sir Eanald was not free from the 
 common superstition of his age. He lost the king's favour, and his 
 companions in arms shrunk from him. Since the birth of his child 
 and the bitter contention that followed his baptism, his intercourse 
 with his wife had been most unhappy. While she loaded him 
 with reproaches and threatened him with desertion, he maintained 
 the same courteous demeanour, though inflexibly refusing to admit 
 any professor of the Catholic faith within the walls of the Keep. 
 The only exception to this rule was the solitary visit of his half 
 brother, and this had been fatal in its results. 
 
 His sorrowful meditations were interrupted by the entrance of 
 an old man with snowy hair and beard. Sir Eanald placed a 
 settle for his visitor and continued his walk. 
 
 " Thou art disturbed in mind and ill in body, my son," said the 
 old man ; " I pray thee rest upon yonder couch and I will watch 
 while thou sleepest." 
 
 " I cannot sleep, Father Ealph," replied De Lacy ; " the events 
 of the last few days would seem to banish sleep evermore. I 
 cannot find ground for self-reproach, yet my unhappy fate has 
 heaped sorrows upon me without measure. Bethink thee: my lady 
 slain by my hand ; my mother's son died on my sword ; my child 
 lost to me beyond the hope of recovery ! And in addition to all 
 this the certainty of royal wrath and probable persecution of all
 
 80 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 Lollards for ray sake. Where wilt thou find shelter if Lacy Keep 
 be garrisoned by royal soldiers?" 
 
 " Think not of me, valiant knight. There are many sure 
 refuges for me, even here in Devon, and many true Christians 
 who will still gather to hear my message ; but I would fain com 
 fort thee in thine affliction. Remember, it was not thy will that 
 sped the shaft against thy lady's breast j and to her life was well 
 nigh intolerable, else would she not have essayed this desperate 
 venture. The death of Sir Hubert was instead of thy death, and 
 thou wilt carry the scar from his brand upon thy brow Avhile thy 
 life endures; and I have hope of finding thy son when the bruit 
 of these late events is over. Thou hast indeed deep cause for 
 sorrow, but thou knowest there is abundant consolation within 
 thy reach." 
 
 Sir Ranald listened with profound respect to the aged pastor. 
 It was a distinguishing trait of the Lollard heretics that their 
 spiritual teachers were universally revered and loved. So many 
 instances of heroic endurance of persecution and privation were 
 found among these wandering preachers that they seemed to bear 
 a charmed life. On his return from Prance a year or two before, 
 Sir Ranald had encountered a party of Lollard preachers, in cus 
 tody of a small body of archers, led by a Carmelite monk. It was 
 at night, and the two little troops encamped in the outskirts of a 
 village. Sir Ranald's Protestantism was not suspected, as Lol 
 lards of noble birth were comparatively rare ; but in the morning 
 the prisoners were all gone, and De Lacy zealously assisted in the 
 search for them in the wrong direction ; and a day or two later 
 the fugitives arrived at Lacy Keep, where they found shelter and 
 security. Father Ralph, who was among the captives, had re 
 mained as chaplain of the Keep, beloved by all its inmates except 
 ing the countess. 
 
 Sir Ranald paused in his walk, and putting aside the tapestry 
 opened a secret closet in the wall. From this he took a jewel 
 case, and seating himself near the venerable Lollard he drew out 
 a glittering necklace. It was composed of twenty-four diamonds 
 of wonderful brilliancy, each set in a framework of gold shaped 
 like an open lily. The gold work was of exceeding delicacy and 
 beauty, and the precious gems were set in the opening cups of the 
 gold lilies, the double clasp being covered with emeralds of unu 
 sual size. There were spots of blood disfiguring the necklace and 
 bedim m ing the flashing stones.
 
 TEE PROPHECY. 81 
 
 " Thou seest this accursed bauble," said the knight, u aiid canst 
 estimate its value better than I. Know, Father Kalph, that the 
 rumour of this toy reached me at Azincourt, and the insane desire 
 to possess it mduced my foray, which ended in the fall of the f )as- 
 tle De Lys. Perhaps the possession of these jewels inspired the 
 owners to resist to the death, and certes, the foul greed that pos 
 sessed me in that fierce fray was begotten of the fiend. I need 
 not tell thee that it is hateful to mine eyes. And now I pray thee 
 take it into thy keeping. It has been in the custody of its rightful 
 owner, the mother of my lost heir, and now it belongs to him. 
 Take thou the charge and tell thy faithful son, who is now wan 
 dering in Scotland, the story, that he may assume the charge after 
 thee. I repent me now that I consented to his departure from the 
 Keep." 
 
 " Better to entrust both jewels and story to Hester. She is a 
 wise maiden. The dangers that threaten me and her brother will 
 not reach her; and it is through her agency chiefly that I hope 
 to find the child. Thou wilt remember also that the accident of 
 gentle birth is in her favour, though I have learned, and thou 
 also, I trust, that no birth is gentle save the new birth. Howbeit 
 the Lady Hester Langley can gain entrance into houses wher3 
 Ralph the Lollard would ne'er be welcome." 
 
 " Thy daughter is even now in the chamber above," replied the 
 knight ; " do as seemeth good to thee. Tell her the sad story and 
 give the jewels to her keeping. Canst thou not exert thy skill 
 and give me an hour of sleep P 
 
 " Doubtless," replied the Lollard. He took a vial from his vest, 
 and with steady hand dropped a small quantity of liquid into a 
 cup of wine. "Drink this, noble sir, and betake thee to thy 
 couch. Slumber will steal upon thee anon, and I will watch here 
 while thou sleepest. I have rare entertainment at hand even a 
 true copy of a Gospel, which yonder benighted monk, from whose 
 power tiiou deliveredst me, had with him. Strange that he should 
 extract lessons of cruelty and idolatry from such a source !" 
 
 Sir Kanald drank the composing draught, and unbuckling his 
 sword-belt he stretched himself upon the couch. The Lollard drew 
 the taper behind the knight's helmet, casting the couch into shadow, 
 and producing his precious parchment was speedily' engrossed in 
 its contents. The deep breathing of Sir Ranald soon proved the 
 potency of the preacher's drug. The noises of the Keep sunk into 
 silence, excepting the clash of armour as the sentinel turned in his 
 
 6
 
 82 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 monotonous walk upon the outer wall. As the night drew on the 
 wind rose, increasing in volume until it grew into a furious storm. 
 The thunder roared and rattled, the lightning gleamed, the rain 
 lashed the walls of the tower, but the sleeper slept and the student 
 read, each unconscious of the warfare of the elements. The dia 
 monds were lying in the open case, also shaded by the helm, but 
 to each flash of the lightning, as it came in at the lattice, the jew 
 els responded with n shower of rays, like sparks from an anvil. 
 So prompt was the response, so vivid the answering flash, that 
 the preacher's attention was attracted, and he laid aside his manu 
 script and watched the gems with eager curiosity. Although far 
 above the current superstition of the time, the Lollard was some 
 how impressed with the idea that something weird and uncanny 
 attached to the jewels, and he stretched out his hand to close the 
 case. At the instant there was a long, blazing flash of lightning, 
 accompanied with a terrific roar of thunder, that seemed to shake 
 the solid Keep to its foundation stone. The old man glanced at 
 the couch and saw Sir Ranald starting up, his countenance looking 
 ghastly in the glare of the lightning and his hand pointing to the 
 opposite side of the chamber. Turning his eyes in the direction 
 indicated, the Lollard saw a sight that seemed to freeze the life 
 currents in his veins. 
 
 The tapestry was drawn aside, the heavy folds held in the white 
 hand of the Countess De Lys. She was attired in a long white 
 robe, a dark crimson spot staining the right side. An arrow in 
 her right hand, with blood stains on its barb and feather, all visi 
 ble in the momentary glare of the lightning, was pointed at the 
 couch occupied by her lord. A fold of white linen was bound 
 upon her forehead, and her long black hair fell over her shoulders. 
 Her pallid lips moved, and while the Keep vibrated and the sub 
 siding roar of the thunder formed a hideous accompaniment, both 
 knight and Lollard heard each sentence she uttered : 
 
 " <6mpurpleb witl) bloob braum from kinsman's uein, 
 lje curse-cumbereb jewels tljcir stain bo retain 
 Still tl;e salt manes of ocean sljall tuasl; out tlje stain ! 
 
 Ijiretl) ttcb .Seep, of tljc Ciuji's strain, 
 store anb a Ijalf score mnji neuer attain, 
 ll tlje tower ano tlje last of tljc i'acg name 
 
 pass from t!;e eartl) amib tempest ano flame !" 
 
 The words issued from her lips in a dull monotone, and as she 
 concluded, another blinding flash illuminated the chamber, and
 
 THE PROPHECY. 83 
 
 again the Keep shook under the crash of the thunder. Her black 
 eyes glared upon the appalled listeners an instant longer, and 
 then the tapestry fell into its place, and they were alone. Sir 
 Eanald fell back upon the couch, and the Lollard, drawing an 
 inkhorn from his pouch, rapidly wrote down the words of this 
 weird prophecy while they were still ringing in his ears. When 
 he had finished he placed the parchment in the box with the neck 
 lace, which he closed and deposited in his pouch. 
 
 The knight collected his confused faculties, and rose from the 
 couch while the preacher was still writing, and, after a brief 
 pause, motioned the old man to follow him. Taking the taper in 
 his hand he led the way to the stair, and the two ascended to the 
 death chamber above. The body of the countess was upon the 
 bed, cold and lifeless. The knight laid his hand tenderly upon 
 her brow, and could scarcely believe the testimony of his senses 
 when he felt the cold, smooth surface, and saw the unmistakable 
 tokens of death. The bloody arrow, which had been drawn from 
 her side, was lying on a settle, near the bed. Hester Langley 
 was kneeling at the bed foot, her face resting upon her arms in 
 peaceful slumber. 
 
 " What thinkest thou, good father?" said Sir Eanald. " Did 
 we see that vision but now, and hear those fearful words, or are 
 we both crazed f 
 
 "I cannot answer thee, noble sir,'' replied the Lollard. "I 
 have written down the words I heard, or thought I heard. I 
 cannot think we have both been deluded by the same wild 
 dream. What sawest thou H" 
 
 " I saw my wife standing in the chamber below, with the shaft 
 in her hand. I heard the words thou hast written. I saw them 
 overlooking thee while thou wast writing. If I dared to yield to 
 my most earnest longing I should spend the remainder of my days 
 in solitar3 r vigils, like those benighted worshippers whose creed 
 we abhor ! Surely there remain for me no more deeds of knightly 
 prowess. The hand that sped yonder fatal shaft is bereft of its 
 cunning. The ear that hath heard those words of doom is deaf 
 henceforth to the sound of trump. Naught remaineth for me but 
 the swift fulfilment of her grewsome word. l A score and a half 
 score.' There are three or four dreary years between ine and 
 that attainment." 
 
 Ladies, the story of the Ked Lacy is almost ended. Two years 
 later he married the Lady Hester Laugley. As nothing was
 
 84 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 heard of his first-born son, at his death, which occurred a year 
 after his second marriage, Ralph Lacy, the infant son of the Lady 
 Hester, was the acknowledged heir of Lacy Keep. 
 
 CHAPTEE XI. 
 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 I SHOULD have said at the beginning, that I repeat all this 
 long story just as I heard it. The Lady Mary, Mr. Barston's 
 mother, told me the most that I have told you, and have yet to 
 tell. The Red Lacy, as Sir Ranald was universally named, re 
 linquished all his warlike habits, and lived the life of a hermit, 
 very zealous for the Lollard faith, and at the last a preacher of 
 note among these persecuted people. It is said that he was killed 
 by a kinsman of Sir Hubert Vane, who was hunting heretics by 
 authority of Henry V. in the last year of his reign. The knight 
 was found at the edge of the dark wood yonder with a cloth-yard 
 shaft through his body. 
 
 Twenty-five years later a gay cavalcade appeared beneath the 
 walls of Lacy Keep, then occupied by Lady Hester Lacy and her 
 son. At the head of the brilliant array was a young knight, who 
 demanded possession, as the Signior Henry De Lacy, the first born 
 of the fighting Lollard. The claim was haughtily rejected by the 
 lady and her son, Sir Ralph. The new claimant then demanded 
 the jewels of the Countess De Lys, offering to relinquish his 
 claims to the Lacy lands if these were surrendered. In those 
 days the value of the diamonds was very far greater than that of 
 all the lands. This also was refused, and the new comers pre 
 pared to assault the Keep. The fight was prevented by the 
 appearance of Sir Ralph upon the wall, who demanded a parley. 
 The resemblance between the two knights was apparent as they 
 stood face to face, each scowling upon the other. The object of 
 the parley was to propose a settlement of their rival claims by 
 single combat. This was so accurately in accord with the senti 
 ment of the time that the proposal was immediately accepted, and 
 Sir Ralph rode forth from the court yard sheathed in armor, with 
 the fatal necklace glittering upon his plumed crest. Their lances 
 were laid aside by common consent, and they rushed upon each 
 other with sword and dagger. The elder born was killed, and the
 
 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 85 
 
 other, sorely wounded, was carried into the Keep to die. The 
 knights who had accompanied Sir Henry informed the lady that 
 his widow and twin sons were in London, and before Sir Ralph 
 died he urgently entreated his mother to yield the Keep and 
 lands to them, the rightful heirs. These half brothers also were 
 laid side by side in the cemetery which now belongs to Morton 
 Priory, and they are the last of the old stock interred in Devon 
 shire. 
 
 The next step in this catalogue of deaths was the sad fate of the 
 twin brothers, Halberd and Hugh. They had entered the service 
 of the rival houses of York and Lancaster, and in the wars of the 
 Roses they met at St. Albans' under shield, and Sir Halberd fell. 
 His brother, who did not inherit the Keep, escaped the Lacy curse, 
 and lived to see Henry VII upon the throne of England and two 
 generations of the elder branch laid in early graves. In all the 
 contests the jewels were somehow the bone of contention between 
 rival kinsmen, and so continued until they passed out of the 
 family nearly a hundred years ago. They were secured by wall to 
 a Lady Lacy in the reign of George III, and she married a Sir 
 Mark Denhani after the death of her first husband, and so the 
 jewels are gone. I have heard that the Deuhams took them to 
 America, and there is some legend about their death in a wild 
 part of that country, where they were seeking the diamonds which 
 had been lost. I do not know the particulars j but I am thankful 
 to say they are gone. There are the gentlemen on the lawn. 
 
 " Ladies," said Lord Morton, " if you intend to dine at Morton 
 Priory you will have to begin your return journey at once. I 
 have ordered the carriage." 
 
 " We will join you immediately," replied Lady Morton. " Mrs. 
 Froome, we have been deeply interested in your story, and some 
 day I may tell you the sequel. At present we must leave Lacy 
 Keep " 
 
 " Look at Sir Ranald first, my lady," said Mrs. Froome. She 
 drew the curtain from the picture, and the three ladies looked 
 with curiosity and with a certain trepidation at the face of the Red 
 Lacy. It was a sad countenance, not repulsive as they expected, 
 but positively handsome but for a scar upon the forehead which 
 the painter had probably exaggerated. 
 
 " It was painted after his second marriage," said Mrs. Frooine. 
 " He was called the most dcbonnairc of the English knights at 
 Azincourt. I like to look at him. But there is not the least re 
 semblance to Sir John. Do you see any ?"
 
 86 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 " Not the slightest !" said the three ladies with a little shiver. 
 
 Before they descended, Miss Tamwortb. and Ret made an ex 
 change of apparel. That is, Miss Hanvood assumed the riding 
 habit and Clare took her place in the carriage. The old time 
 story they had heard was still on the minds of the ladies, and of 
 course was also on their tongues. 
 
 "Do you remember, Herbert, any story about the Lacy dia 
 monds'?" said Lady Morton, as they rolled through the lodge 
 gates. 
 
 "Ah!" answered Lord Morton, "Mrs. Froome has been at her 
 old tricks ! Yes, I have heard her story at second hand. My 
 dear friend and cousin, Sir Charles Harwood, told me the old 
 legend. He had learned it from Barstou's mother, the Lady 
 Mary, as she was called; and since his death I have heard it 
 substantially from her. She was the sister of the late Sir Elbert 
 Lacy, John's father, Miss Clare." 
 
 "Yes, I know. But you have some more recent history of the 
 jewels, have you not '?" 
 
 "Yes. They came into my family and now belong to Lady 
 Morton. They were left by will to my grandmother, and my 
 father was her heir. The testatrix was the second wife of Sir 
 Mark Denham, and the diamonds were claimed by his son with- 
 but any shadow of right. My father thought of emigrating to 
 America, and these jewels with other valuables were taken there." 
 
 "You seem reluctant to speak about them," said Miss Tarn- 
 worth. " I hope you will pardon my question, if it was indiscreet, 
 and forget it. How beautifully Eet rides! You can see her 
 there through the glade. She is flirting with Sir John abomi 
 nably !" 
 
 " Dismiss your fears," said Lady Morton, gayly, " Eet will keep 
 within bounds. She would require a week to get even with you. 
 My dear, Clare has heard so much about the diamonds that she 
 is devoured with curiosity to hear more. Do you object to con 
 tinue the story f 
 
 "Not at all. It is rather sad in some parts of it. This Den- 
 ham, the son of Sir Mark, and a younger son, by the way, went to 
 Louisiana in search of the jewels, accompanied by his son. They 
 were hidden in a grove, and he had somehow got an inkling of 
 the locality. However, he became involved in some political plot 
 and was hanged, with his son, on one of the trees in the identical 
 grove. The jewels were there for a whole generation. By a very
 
 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 87 
 
 remarkable concatenation of circumstances I also learned some 
 thing about the probable locality, and found them." 
 
 " Did the old fate attend them ? I mean was there any ' kin 
 blood ' shed in the effort to reclaim them V 
 
 Lord Morton started. 
 
 " I had forgotten about that legend!" he said. Yes, there cer 
 tainly was. A near kinsman of my own, then unknown to me, 
 tried to kill me, and very nearly succeeded ! He was undoubtedly 
 searching for the diamonds when the fray occurred, and so wasl." 
 
 " Did you kill him?" said Miss Tarn worth, timidly. 
 
 "No. Heaven be praised! I wounded him severely. We 
 fought with swords. In that country at that time it was custom 
 ary to carry arms. We botli had sword canes. He assaulted me, 
 and in defending myself I wounded him. He was killed by a rifle 
 bullet, however, at the end of our encounter. The shot was prob 
 ably fired by an Indian whom he had maltreated." 
 
 " And the diamonds ?" 
 
 " Were dug up afterwards. Lady Morton wore them on her 
 wedding day. I have never seen them since." 
 
 " I will show them to you some time, Glare," said Lady Morton. 
 "At present they are in London." 
 
 u Were they not injured during their long burial f ' 
 
 " No. They, with other valuables, were enclosed in a box that 
 was covered with sheet lead and perfectly impervious. We have 
 passed the equestrians, who are lagging behind us." 
 
 " My Lady," said Clare, "pardon me just this last time ! I saw 
 Ret when she was presented, you know. She had a lovely brooch 
 and earrings. The former was in the shape of three lilies, with 
 the diamonds in the bells of the flowers. The earrings were single 
 lilies, exactly matching the brooch. Are these part of the famous 
 Lacy diamonds ?" 
 
 " Yes and no ! They were included in the inventory which Lord 
 Morton received, but I have since learned that they were added 
 by Lady Denham, who was very rich. The original jewels were 
 only those of the necklace, and they are larger and finer than those 
 you saw." 
 
 "Well, I am truly glad of that ! They are so lovely ! and it is a 
 comfort to think that the horrid curse don't attach to them !" 
 
 The gentlemen laughed at this sally. 
 
 " Would you not wear the necklace, Miss Clare ?" said the Rec 
 tor. " Suppose they should be left to you by will "
 
 88 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 " Never !" said Miss Tarn worth, with a little shudder. " You 
 may laugh as much as you please. But I believe every word of 
 that story, and I would as soon put a snake around my neck as the 
 Lacy diamonds." 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 Two HAPPY FELLOWS. 
 
 AT the Eectory in Lavington there was a cosy chamber known 
 as " The Swiss Boy's Den." Mr. Barston, whose habits were 
 somewhat erratic, was the proprietor of this apartment, which was 
 kept in scrupulous order. In one corner was a most elaborate col 
 lection of fishing tackle. In another, two or three guns and some 
 curiosities in the shape of outlandish arms. Along one entire side 
 of the room were some book cases well filled with volumes which 
 Barstou had culled from the large library at Oakland. His father 
 had been a great student, and Lacy walked in his footsteps. Oak 
 land was also a bachelor establishment and the ostensible home 
 of the " Swiss," but Parson Johnny pleaded so piteously for com 
 panionship that Barston had by degrees grown into the habit of 
 living with him the larger half of his time. He was swallowed up 
 in legal studies, and was making famous progress. 
 
 On the morning succeeding the visit to the Bed Hall, Barston 
 was seated at the table in his " den," deeply engrossed in a formal 
 looking letter which had just arrived. The Eector was out visit 
 ing a sick parishioner. There was a glow of contentment on the 
 handsome countenance of our hero there, it is out ! The author 
 did not intend to announce him so early, but his gentle readers 
 have already discovered that Lacy Barston is the hero of this 
 story. It is hoped, however, that the identity of the heroine is not 
 so apparent. The author will be very cautious and envelope her 
 in mystery as long as possible. While Barston was thus engaged, 
 the hall door was closed with a bang, and corning up the staircase 
 three steps at a time, Sir John Lacy burst into the den. 
 
 " Swiss ! I have been looking for you. It is jolly to find you 
 here. I have something to tell you ! Botheration on your letters ! 
 You can read them after. I am too happy to wait !" 
 
 "My letter contains good news, Jack. I also am happy this 
 morning."
 
 TWO HAPPY FELLOWS. 89 
 
 " Shake hands then, old fellow ! We are two jolly dogs together. 
 May I tell ray story first F 
 
 " Certainly," answered Swiss. " Here, take this stuffy old chair- 
 Put your long legs over this one. So ! Now fire away while I 
 hunt a weed." 
 
 " Never mind, the weed, Swiss, but listen. Just get behind me 
 so as not to see my blushes ! Oh, Swiss ! 1 think I have got her ! 
 
 " Got whom !" said Barston, moving behind him. 
 
 " Ret, Ret, Ret Harwood ! My beauty, my darling, my darling 
 Ret ! Oh, Swiss, if I should be mistaken I am lost forever !" 
 
 The bright glow passed away from the joyous face behind him, 
 and a cloud of unspeakable agony settled down upon the broad 
 forehead. Then lifting his blue eyes to the ceiling, as if in piteous 
 appeal for strength to endure, and then smoothing his thick beard 
 over his quivering lips, and with the dauntless air of a tried war 
 rior, he came round in the light and faced his happy friend. 
 
 " Let me hear your whole story, Jack," he said steadily. " Maybe 
 I can judge better than you what the chances are." 
 
 " I can hardly tell you P said the excited baronet. " I only know 
 that I love her so desperately that she must be mine ! You know 
 we went to the Hall yesterday 1 Well, she came back with me on 
 horseback. Oh, how she rides like a Ceutauress, Swiss ! Well, 
 she found I was spoony and did not repulse me ! I ventured to 
 say two or three things about settling at the Hall, and about the 
 future Lady Lacy and, and, I can't tell you all the foolery I talked. 
 But she listened, Swiss, and listened kindly. I told her lots about 
 you and your goodness and " 
 
 "And what F 
 
 "And that I thought you would make love to Clare if you were 
 not so confoundedly proud of your l poverty,' as you call it, and so 
 determined not to marry a rich woman !" 
 
 " Did you F 
 
 " Yes. She says Clare would be a priceless treasure to any man 
 if she were penniless. Those were her very words ! Well, I dined 
 at the Priory, you know. And after dinner we had music. And 
 then a promenade on the terrace, and I talked some more foolery, 
 and she listened ! Oh, Swiss, if I were not so far gone, if everything 
 were not at stake, I should feel confident." 
 
 " What do you intend to do, Jack F said Barstou. 
 
 " I can't do anything until I talk to Lord Morton. And, Swiss, 
 who is there in the world to take my case in hand but you ! You,
 
 90 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 who have stood by me brother, friend, father almost. You, who 
 have delivered me out of troubles scores of times, saved me from 
 the consequences of my follies stood between me and death more 
 than once ! And now, that I am menaced with something worse 
 than death, to whom can I go but to you !" 
 
 As he spoke he rose and laid his arm on the shoulder of his 
 kinsman and hid his face upon it. The warrior forgot his wouuds, 
 though they were bleeding, and laying his hand on the head of his 
 agitated cousin, his kind eyes filling, he answered him, 
 
 " Dear Jack, you can rely upon me. What man can do I will 
 do for you. I cannot imagine any reason why the course of your 
 love should not run smooth. It shall if I cau make it so, God 
 helping me !" 
 
 The young men resumed their seats, and Sir John remained 
 silent, a little ashamed of the emotion he had displayed. His 
 companion rested his head upon his hand and meditated. 
 
 " Jack," said he at length, " let us understand one another. I 
 never had any serious thoughts about Miss Tamworth. It is not 
 my poverty but you have not heard my news." 
 
 " No ! what a selfish fellow I am ! I forgot you had good news 
 too. What is iU" 
 
 " This letter," replied Barston, handing it across the table, u is 
 from Parchment. It announces the death of my grand uncle, Miles 
 Barston, and my inheritance of his estate. I am not poor now." 
 
 " Why that is the old Indian who wanted to repair Oakland." 
 
 " Yes. He died suddenly. Parchment authorizes me to draw 
 upon him for any amount up to fifty thousand pounds. He says 
 the estate will yield much more." 
 
 "I congratulate you, Swiss, with all my heart. If somebody 
 would only die and leave me such a lot of tin I should feel more 
 confident about my wooing." 
 
 " For shame, Jack ! How can you say or think anything so un 
 gracious either of Lord Morton or his daughter !" 
 
 " I only meant that I should feel myself a better parti? replied 
 Sir John, a little abashed. " I have no idea of my own pecuniary 
 condition. Lord Morton has had charge of my interests since 
 uncle died. I shall not have to give a list of my possessions to 
 him, fortunately, as he will have to give the list to me shortly." 
 
 " You will have a good estate, I fancy," said Barstou. " There 
 has been a long minority, and both my father and Lord Morton 
 have managed judiciously. I know the mortgages are all paid off."
 
 TWO HAPPY FELLOWS. 91 
 
 " I don't care about estates ! If I owned this entire island I 
 would cheerfully give it for a kind word from Ket. Must I tell 
 her that I was mistaken about you and Miss Tain worth '!" 
 
 " Yes ! No ! don't say anything- about it. It is damaging to a 
 young woman to be talked about in that way. When I get spoony 
 I'll tell you in time. Where are you going f 
 
 " Back to the Priory. Won't you come with me ?" 
 
 " Not to-day. 1 must ride in another direction. Did you know 
 that I had Eoland down here ? Yes ; Parson Johnny sent for him 
 yesterday, and he is dancing about in the stable yonder, dying for a 
 good gallop. I am going down to the coast. You know I have a 
 piece of land there. Here are my riding boots, too. How kind 
 and thoughtful Parson Johnny is. Do you know, Jack, that he is 
 about the best man alive f 
 
 "No I don't, but I do know who is. It is Lacy -Barston, and I 
 am ready to maintain it on foot or horseback, with lance or sword, 
 with cudgel or fist, or any other way you choose. There lies my 
 gauntlet!" He dashed his glove down on the floor, shook his 
 cousin's hand warmly again, then picked up the gage of battle and 
 ran down stairs. 
 
 Barston followed him more deliberately. Sir John's horse was 
 at the door. As he mounted Barston called to him to wait until 
 Eoland was saddled, as their way lay together to the end of the 
 village. 
 
 Eoland wasted an enormous amount of equine energy as his 
 rider curbed him, making him shorten his strides so long as they 
 were in the street. 
 
 " It's a bright day, Swiss," said the baronet, " everything looks 
 jolly. Eolaud is mad for a canter. There is a good lot of happiness 
 in the world, Swiss, after all." 
 
 " Happiness, Jack, is said to be a flower or a fruit that can never 
 be graffed. It comes only from one root, and cannot be cultivated 
 except about the root." 
 
 " And the root ! 
 
 " Is Duty. You may meditate upon that bit of philosophy as 
 you ride. I promise you I will. Good bye." 
 
 " Stop, Swiss ! I don't know so much about your philosophy 
 and your roots, but I do know if there are two real happy fellows 
 in England they are here, just about to part. Away with you !"
 
 92 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 CHAPTEE XIII. 
 
 EBENEZER. 
 
 ~O OLAISTD snorted with delight as his rider turned out of the 
 -l-\> long street, and shaking his rein loosely, started away over the 
 downs in a mad gallop. They were great friends, Eoland and Swiss, 
 and had passed through some rough experiences together in the 
 Crimea. That both of them came out of that little adventure with 
 out a scratch, was one of the marvels of the age to all who knew 
 their history. On the part of Barston the perils he encountered and 
 evaded were not by any means selected. He had no dare-devil 
 recklessness about him. But there was a calm philosophy, per 
 fectly genuine, 'that superficial people called fatalism, which made 
 him totally indifferent about results when he was working out a 
 definite purpose. He omitted no needful precautions. For in 
 stance, he had a thick steel plate seven or eight inches in diame 
 ter securely fastened over his left breast, completely defending his 
 heart, and he always wore it under his vest when he went into bat 
 tle. " You see," he said in explanation, " those Cossack fellows 
 with their confounded long poles might poke one suddenly, and it 
 is not on the sword arm side." There was always a method about his 
 " whimsicalities," of which he had any quantity. 
 
 All the country between Lavington and the coast was perfectly 
 familiar to him. He rode through shady lanes, sometimes cutting 
 off a mile by leaping a hedge and riding across wide fields, where 
 the odour of the hay cocks was like the breezes from the Spice 
 Islands. It was high noon when he reached a farm house half a 
 mile from the little arm of the channel that washed his land. A 
 boy with a long cut across his face, filled with white teeth, met 
 him in the lane. 
 
 "Sarvaut, Master Lacy," said the youth, pulling at a lock of 
 flaxen hair in lieu of a hat ; " be ye goiii' to the 'ouse ?" 
 
 " Not now, Tommy. Are you all well ? So, Eoland !" and he dis 
 mounted. "Here Tommy, mount!" and catching the boy under 
 the shoulder he swung him into the saddle. " Now ride gently, 
 Tommy. Put Eoland in the stable and give him a mouthful of hay, 
 and an hour hence some oats. Tell your mother I hope to find a 
 curd when I come back. I am going down to the water. It is 
 now twelve and a half. I expect to be back by two o'clock."
 
 EBENEZEE. 93 
 
 As the boy trotted down the lane Barston crossed a stile into 
 the meadow. At the other side the ground fell away, and in the 
 descent to the coast became more broken and rocky. A small 
 stream ran along the edge of the meadow, and Barston followed its 
 windings, through stunted bushes and over rough stones, until the 
 sea burst into sight as he cleared the covert. At this point the 
 streamlet plunged over the rock, falling eight or ten feet, and then 
 by a succession of small cascades reached the belt of sand which 
 the tide left uncovered. The head of the first fall was fully sixty 
 feet above the sea level. Swiss clambered down the face of 
 the rock and with cautious footsteps at last reached a wild plat 
 form about half way down, where the water was collected in a lit 
 tle pool. All around was the solid rock, and the large, flat stone 
 at the bottom of the pool had been worn smooth by the floods of 
 ages. At the times of heavy rainfalls, a furious torrent roared 
 through this rocky defile, and all the earth was washed from the 
 rocks, which stood in fantastic shapes on every side. It is proba 
 ble that no mortal foot had ever reached this nook of the earth 
 except Lacy Barston's. It was almost inaccessible either from 
 above or below. 
 
 He threw his felt hat on a projecting crag, and drew off his long 
 boots, and then stretching his body face downwards on the broad 
 flat rock at the edge of the pool, he gave some slight vent to the 
 agonies he had been suffering for hours. No human eye could see 
 him here; no human ear could hear his groans. The plash of 
 the rill tumbling from the rock above him, and the gentle murmur 
 of the stream as it passed out of the pool and rippled on towards 
 the sea, were the only sounds audible to him. And here hidden, 
 torn by conflicting emotions, the quaint-ness of his nobility was 
 manifested. He spake aloud, holding strange converse with him 
 self and One other, and the only Auditor he had. 
 
 " Put off thy shoes !" he began his monologue, " for the place 
 where thou standest is holy. Oh, my beloved ! How sweet has been 
 my dream ! And now I know full well that I must dream of thee 
 no more. Father ! It was a heavy load thou laidst upon my 
 brain, and heart, and soul! My mother's kinsman! And yet if the 
 charge had not been solemnly put upon me I could not have 
 escaped. MyKet! My beautiful, my pure Ket! Mine no more!" 
 
 He stood erect, his beautiful face calm and gentle, his kind eyes 
 looking around this wild prayer place. A great round boulder as 
 high as his head was on his right hand, and above it a long gray
 
 94 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 stone was lying amid the debris of the last flood. He clambered 
 upon the boulder and raising the monolith, the young giant stood 
 it upright on the larger mass. There was a fissure in the top of 
 the boulder, and the end of the stone he had reared up, slipped 
 into the crack and wedged itself tight by gravitation. As he stood 
 by the side of this rude pillar he held up his hand reverently and 
 said: 
 
 " If thou lift thy tool upon it thou hast polluted it. To this spot 
 will I return whenever I am in sore distress and while this witness 
 stands. 1 will remember the hills from whence cometh my help. 
 Hitherto hath the Lord helped me. Ebenezer \ r 
 
 Half a dozen hours before Sir John had announced to him that 
 they were the two happiest men on earth. And while he spoke 
 his own heart was running over with happiness, while Barston's 
 was waging a grim combat with despair. But now this athlete 
 had conquered despair, and looked forward with cheerful courage 
 to the future, and the pang that had rent his heart had been won 
 derfully healed, and at this very moment the heart of his kins 
 man was torn with agonies that could find no expression in w^ords. 
 
 11 This place is my Proseuche. No temple made with hands can 
 equal it in grandeur. No closet of man's contrivance can match it 
 in privacy. And I alone know the way to it from the hill-top and 
 from the beach. Now, Master Barston, keep in mind the lesson 
 learned here to-day. Watch over Jack. The devil told you while 
 you were galloping over the downs that you were a better fellow, 
 and worthier of Ret. Sister Ret ! It must come to that, my boy. If 
 the devil had not lied, and if you were every way worthier, so 
 much the more are you bound to teach Jack how to equal you. 
 It is part of the charge. And the main lesson you must remember 
 is the weakness of nature and the strength of grace. So take the 
 motto-word ' Ebenezer !' I must go up there once more." 
 
 He climbed the boulder again, and stood by the side of his pil 
 lar. There was an odd mixture of superstition and of simple 
 reverence in the man. " It would take a power equal to the lift of 
 a ton weight to withdraw this stone from its socket," he said, as 
 he bent over and kissed its rugged summit. " And now for a dip 
 in the bright sea. l Ebenezer !' " 
 
 Going down the rock from point to point with the assurance of one 
 familiar with the pathway, he reached the narrowing belt of yel 
 low sand. As he looked out upon the water he saw three things. 
 First, the cluster of rocks a mile out towards the sea, known as
 
 THE SMUGGLERS' CAVE. 95 
 
 " The Smugglers' Cave ;" second, half way between him and these 
 rocks a boat drifting in shore, her sail swaying from side to side 
 as she ran up into the wind now and again ; third, a swimmer 
 coming in from the rocks, evidently after the drifting boat, but 
 gaining nothing, though he was putting forth all his strength. 
 
 " Heaven be praised !" said Barston, as he ran down the shallow 
 bank, " there is time enough if I do not waste my powers. ' Eb- 
 enezer!'" and he clove his way through the advancing tide, run 
 ning like a mill race, with the vigour of a trained athlete. 
 
 CHAPTEE XIV. 
 
 THE SMUGGLERS' CAVE. 
 
 "OEFOEE Sir John Lacy reached the Priory he met Lord Mor- 
 J ) ton's carriage. The two young ladies were within. He had 
 been so filled with his story, and so engrossed while he talked 
 with Barston, that he forgot the appointment of the previous 
 evening. It had been arranged that he should take them Eet 
 and Clare to the Smugglers' Cave, and his errand to the village 
 was to engage Barston for the fourth seat. 
 
 " And you have forgotten everything," said Miss Tamworth 
 reproachfully. 
 
 " I confess my fault," replied Sir John. "Don't scold, please, 
 but listen. Both Swiss and I had matters of high import to 
 discuss, and he has gone on horseback ahead of us. We shall find 
 him at the farm house, no doubt." 
 
 ''What farm house?" 
 
 " At the Bipple Farm. It is Barston's property, and is near the 
 very spot. We will take the next turning and save five miles by 
 avoiding the village. I can leave my horse at Oakland, which is 
 not far distant, and join you in the carriage. Take the first turn 
 to the left, William, and I will catch you at the lodge as you 
 pass." So saying he galloped ahead and was soon lost to view. 
 
 "He is a nice youth," said Clare. "I had arranged a pretty 
 speech for Mr. Barston and shall forget every word of it now." 
 
 11 Never inind, dear," replied Miss Harwood, "you can compose 
 another. I never knew you at a loss. If we meet Mr. Barston 
 on the coast we can bring him back with us." 
 
 When the Baronet joined them again he looked so contrite and
 
 96 TEE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 humble that lie was forgiven at once. " It was all owing to my 
 confounded selfishness !" he said. " I was so intent upon my per 
 sonal gain that I hardly listened to the good news Swiss told me. 
 His grand uncle is dead, Miss Harwood, and Barston gets a big 
 lot of money." 
 
 " Indeed ! That is good news. Father will be glad to hear of 
 Mr. Barston's good fortune." 
 
 " So will everybody else that knows him. He took it very 
 coolly himself. I don't think he expected it either, as he and the 
 old gentleman did not part on very good terms, the latter being 
 displeased because Swiss would not accept a loan from him. He 
 was a peppery old fellow, and told Swiss ' he was very independent 
 on a very small foundation.' " 
 
 *'- What did Mr. Barston reply ?" asked Clare. 
 
 " He said 'his independence was the bulk of his capital, and a 
 debt incurred without certain means of repayment was a theft.' " 
 
 " Which is true," remarked Miss Harwood. 
 
 ''Bosh!" said the baronet; " such a theory carried out would 
 destroy the credit system." 
 
 " And abolish the bankrupt courts," retorted Eet. 
 
 "There you go!" said Sir John; "that comes of having a 
 brother in Parliament. I suppose Herbert rehearses his speeches 
 to you before delivery, and you will know as much as a blue book. 
 Hasn't he been tinkering at the bankrupt courts lately f 
 
 " Indeed I don't know. lib was Father who told me about the 
 bankrupt courts. From the little I understood I thought they 
 were a necessary evil, though." 
 
 " Here is the Eipple Farm," said Sir John, " and there is Tommy 
 Dawson. Hillo, Tommy ! has Mr. Barston been here to-day f 
 
 11 Yes, sir," answered Tommy, opening his gash ; " he left his 
 'orse and went down to the water 'cross the meadow. He is coomin' 
 back at two o'clock, and mammy is fixin' a curd for him." 
 
 " All right. Drive on, William ; we shall find him at the Eip- 
 ples. That is the little fishing village, ladies, whence we are to 
 sail for the cave." 
 
 But Mr. Barston was not there. Sir John soon secured a trim 
 little boat, and, rather vain of his nautical skill, declined all offers 
 of assistance, put off with his fair freight and reached the Smug 
 glers' Eocks in safety. They landed, and leaving the sail free, Sir 
 John secured the boat by bringing the anchor on the rough pier and 
 sticking the fluke in a crevice in the rocks. Then passing around
 
 THE SMUGGLERS' CAVE. 91 
 
 to the sea side of the miniature island they were soon engrossed 
 in their explorations. 
 
 In less than an hour after their arrival Sir John noticed the 
 rapid encroachments of the tide and warned the ladies that they 
 would soon be forced to embark or to take refuge in the cave 
 proper, which was ten or fifteen feet above high water mark. It 
 had been voted inaccessible upon the first survey, and they de- 
 ciared their readiness to return. Sir John led the way to the 
 landing', and they beheld with dismay the boat adrift and far out 
 of reach, wind and tide both carrying it towards the shore. The 
 anchor had slipped from its fastening, and was probably retarding 
 the boat's progress as it occasionally touched the bottom. The 
 gravity of the situation was instantly apparent to the baronet, 
 and he maintained a cheerful demeanour with great difficulty. 
 
 " Ladies," he said, " you must return to the other side of the 
 rocks and I must swim after the boat. Do not delay, for seconds 
 of time are now of enormous value- If the tide advances before I 
 get back you can climb the rocks. Be brave and hopeful, and if I 
 do not return, Miss Harwood, you will know that I have given 
 my life a forfeit for imperiling yours ! Not a word, but do quickly 
 as I counsel you !" He threw off his coat and waistcoat while he 
 talked, placing them high up on the rocks near him, and the terri 
 fied girls hastened to obey him while he struggled out of his boots. 
 A minute later he was riding with the tide and making too much 
 progress to last ! 
 
 Our friend Barston with measured strokes neared the boat, and 
 with his muscles in full vigour grasped the gunwale. With his 
 hands once upon the boat's side the trick of the gymnast stood 
 him in stead, and in a moment he was tying panting in the bottom 
 of the rocking boat. Small rest served him. He had detected 
 the trailing anchor before he reached the boat, and his first task 
 was to draw that in. Then catching the sheet he drew the sail 
 close aboard, putting the tiller down, and went with race-horse 
 speed across the course of Sir John. 
 
 " Keep up a minute, Jack!" he shouted ; " I must tack once." 
 
 " Never mind me, Swiss ! Go to the rocks and take off the 
 women. I can keep up here an hour." 
 
 Swiss made no reply, but putting the boat about passed within 
 ten yards of the baronet. Another short tack brought the boat 
 beyond him to windward, and then letting the sheet loose, Bar- 
 stoii drifted down upon him. Getting his arms around his slip- 
 
 7
 
 98 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 pery body, he got his shoulders, then his waist, above water, and 
 finally dragged him into the boat by main strength. 
 
 Sir John was exhausted. He had put too much steam on at 
 the start. While he was getting back his powers his companion 
 talked to him. 
 
 " It would slightly surprise the ladies, Jack, for me to present 
 myself just now. My apparel is on the main land, yours is on the 
 rocks. When you are equal to the task I will relinquish your 
 boat to you again and take to the water. By-the-bye, one more 
 tack will bring us to the rocks. How do you feel ?" 
 
 " I believe I can breathe, Swiss. How does it happen that you 
 are always near when I am endangered ?" 
 
 " It is my charge, Jack. None of your nonsense now ! Can 
 you howl ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Well, howl out loudly. The girls will hear you now." 
 
 u Howl yourself." 
 
 " I won't. I don't wish them to know I am here ; I should die 
 of shame ! Howl, you villain, and relieve their minds !" 
 
 " Courage !" shouted Sir John. " Scream if you hear." 
 
 A very musical squeal, in duett, came floating over the water. 
 
 " There, Jack, take the tiller. Are you all right ?" 
 
 " Certainly. Where the deuce are you going f 
 
 "Ashore," replied Swiss, as he plunged head foremost over 
 board. When his head emerged he went on : " Before you can 
 get into your duds I shall be near the land. The wind and tide 
 both favour me. Don't mention me to the girls. I will meet you 
 at Eipple Farm." 
 
 When Mr. Barston reached the shore he saw the little vessel 
 gliding from behind the Smugglers' Eocks, the broad sail full and 
 the baronet astern with his hand on the tiller. Her head was 
 turned towards the shore, and Barston drew his body up the face 
 of the rock and was speedily hidden behind the stunted bushes 
 that grew in the crevices ; but while he was not visible he was 
 audible, and if the boat had been half a mile nearer its passengers 
 would have heard a voice of wonderful power and sweetness car 
 olling out : 
 
 " A wet sheet and a flowing sea, 
 And a wind that follows fasti" 
 
 " I have two things to do," said Swiss, as he reached his Pro- 
 seuche "first, to return thanks to the Helper!" and he stood
 
 THE SMUGGLERS' CAVE. 99 
 
 reverently a few minutes in silent devotion ; " next, to dress and 
 go to Ripple Farm ; and I may add, thirdly, to eat Mrs. Dawson's 
 curd before the ladies get there, lest she have but one ! One curd 
 between two healthy young women, at two o'clock, P. M., would 
 be a hollow mockery ! Besides, I saw a lunch basket in the boat ! 
 Perhaps they don't like curds either ; or if they do, they don't 
 know anything about Mrs. Dawson's ! Heigho ! It is a clear case. 
 I shall have to do without the curd until I know they won't have 
 any. It would be dreadfully underbred to eat it !" 
 
 The air of lofty indifference with which Mr. Swiss regarded Mrs. 
 Dawson's spread, was very comical. There was a curd of about ten 
 inches diameter and two inches thick. There was a little pitcher 
 of yellow cream. There was a dish of golden Porto Rico sugar that 
 had never been passed through refiners' hands, and was therefore 
 saccharine. Swiss licked his lips in his mind's eye while he re 
 sisted the old dame's entreaties to partake of her dainties. He 
 put her off with various evasions until Lord Morton's equipage 
 appeared in the lane. Mr. Barston assisted the ladies to alight, 
 kept a grave face as he glanced at their wet shoes and skirts, for 
 the sea had caught them before the boat reached their perch on 
 the rocks, and listened very politely while both of them together 
 recounted their adventures. The story was not very coherent, 
 but Swiss understood it all. 
 
 " Mrs. Dawson will allow us to* dry our feet at her kitchen fire, 
 I am sure," said Miss Tarn worth. 
 
 " And she will divide between you goddesses some nectar and 
 ambrosia she has been saving for you," said Barston, leading the 
 way into the kitchen. " Behold the feast, and fall to ! 
 
 "Not one taste!" said Miss Harwood, decidedly. "Tommy 
 announced to us two hours ago that this curd was not prepared 
 for goddesses at all. Allow us to return the invitation ; ' fall to ' 
 yourself." 
 
 "Never!" Curds are my daily food. I am tired to death of 
 curds ! And this is raw Porto Rico sugar ! Terribly indigestible 
 stuff no doubt." 
 
 " Oh, how nice it looks !" said Ret. 
 
 " Nice ! Do you know what you are saying ?" 
 
 " Certainly. I always take raw sugar with curds." 
 
 " Do you indulge in curds, Miss Harwood ?" 
 
 "Whenever they are abundant and not bespoken," said Ret. 
 "Please eat it up, Mr. Barston, if you can. I don't believe any-
 
 100 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 body could eat that monstrous curd all at once. We had sand 
 wiches in the carriage." 
 
 " Lawks, my lady !" said Mrs. Dawson. " I have three more 
 curds " 
 
 "Mrs* Dawson," said Swiss, "it is unjustifiable homicide for 
 you to keep them another minute. If you will produce them I 
 will show these ladies that one honest man can manage one curd. 
 Jack will eat another, and we will see what they can do with the 
 other two." 
 
 When the party quitted the Eipple Farm Mrs. Dawson had not 
 the vestige of curd on her premises. William sat on the box and 
 nibbled sandwiches. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 AH! CHE LA MOKT. 
 
 THE windows were all open looking out upon the terrace at the 
 Priory. It was after dinner, and the candles were illuminating 
 the room where sat Lady Morton, her daughter, Miss Tarn worth, 
 Lord Morton, Sir John Lacy and the Eector. The author has been 
 oppressed, since he introduced tfie ladies, with the conviction that 
 he must describe their dresses at least once, and the present occa 
 sion seems opportune. 
 
 Lady Morton wore a pearl coloured silk, trimmed with two 
 flounces, pinked out and headed with broad cross cut folds of 
 pearl coloured China crepe, caught and crossed at intervals with 
 narrow folds of pearl satin. Her overskirt was of China crepe, 
 trimmed with folds of satin and rich fringe. The low body was 
 trimmed with Grecian folds of crepe de CMne bordered with fringe. 
 Her fair neck was surrounded with rich lace, held in with very 
 narrow black velvet. 
 
 Her daughter wore a dress of apricot poult de soie, trimmed upon 
 the lower skirt with a deep flounce of white point applique lace. 
 Her overskirt, sleeves and sash embroidered in a delicate flower 
 design, scarlet, green, black and white, bordered with lace, was 
 remarkably striking. Her square open bodice, embroidered to 
 match, displayed a square of tulle laid in folds upon the neck. 
 
 Miss Tarn worth was dressed in a black gros grain, with a flounce
 
 AH! CHE LA MORT&. 101 
 
 eight inches deep, the plaits of which were laid in clusters all oiie 
 way, with a space the width of the plaits between. This space 
 was occupied l>y three pointed straps of black velvet, the middle 
 one the deepest. Tunic overdress of black cashmere, trimmed 
 with a broad band of black velvet and looped up on the sides but 
 not on the back. She wore a butterfly bow at the back, Hunga 
 rian sleeves, and overcoat sleeves of black silk. 
 
 This accurate description, the author flatters himself, is a tri 
 umph of taste and ingenuity. That the costumes were perfectly 
 stunning cauuot be doubted, and the author has no uncomfortable 
 dread of making a mess of this business, as he has copied verbatim 
 the three descriptions from Demoresfs Monthly. What the ladies 
 looked like, thus attired, the fair readers will judge for themselves. 
 It is hoped they will approve. If not, they will please remember 
 that Madame Demorest is responsible, and not the writer, who, 
 unhappily, does not understand a word of the jargon. 
 
 "Come Ket, come Parson," said Lord Morton, "we must try 
 those selections from Trovatore. Are you irt accord, Parson P 
 
 " Twang, twang. Yes, sir," responded his son. 
 
 " Well, commence, my dear. Andante ! One, two, three, four, 
 now !" and tossing his violin into place he led off. Lady Morton, 
 mistress of the instrument, played the piano accompaniment. 
 The rector with his violoncello added to the firmness of the foun 
 dation, while his father played the plaintive melody with exquisite 
 grace and feeling. The listeners were charmed, and unanimously 
 demanded an encore. As the first notes of the prison song, "Ah ! 
 che la morte," were sounded, a voice joined in from the terrace, 
 
 "Ah! I have sighed to rest me 
 Deep in the quiet grave," 
 
 and the wail was so life-like and genuine that all the listeners were 
 visibly affected. Mr. Barston stepped into the room through the 
 French window as the song concluded. 
 
 " Why, Swiss !" said the rector, " I never heard that song with 
 such power before. Do you really want to die P 
 
 " Not immediately," replied Barston. " But to confess the truth 
 I was affected when I began to sing, and perhaps my voice trem 
 bled a little." 
 
 "What was it, Swiss P 
 
 " Why, I discovered that you were playing in two flats instead 
 of four. That high B took all the skin off my throat. I did not 
 know it until it was too late to stop."
 
 102 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 This was a very lame and impotent conclusion. All of his audi 
 tors laughed excepting the rector. 
 
 " Why did you not come to dinner, Mr. Barston P said Lady Mor 
 ton ; " we waited for you." 
 
 " The ladies promised to visit Oakland to-morrow, Madame," re 
 plied Swiss, " and I had to ride over to warn my retainers. They 
 will expect luncheon, and the experience I had of their prowess 
 to-day at Eipple Farm, coupled with my knowledge of the state 
 of the Oakland larder, made it doubly necessary to prepare " 
 
 " Why, Mr. Barston !" said Miss Tamworth, " we had nothing 
 but curds." 
 
 " And bread and butter. Mrs. Dawson looked aghast when she 
 removed the dishes. There were four curds all of good dimen 
 sions." 
 
 " And Swiss had the big one and ate every bit of it," said Sir 
 John. "In fact, I believe he had engaged all four of them for 
 himself. Mine was quite small and I just nibbled at it. Swiss 
 looked so cross that it took away my appetite." 
 
 "Come out on the terrace, Swiss," said the rector ; "I would 
 not stay here and listen to such slanders." 
 
 When the young men got beyond earshot the rector put his 
 arm through his friend's and gave an affectionate squeeze. 
 
 " What ails you, Swiss P he said simply. 
 
 " Don't ask me any questions, Johnny. I am slightly unstrung, 
 but I shall be better anon." 
 
 "Don't tell fibs, Swiss. You are not slightly unstrung but 
 thoroughly miserable about something. Out with it. Maybe I 
 can help you." 
 
 " Alas ! no. If kind sympathy were all I wanted I know yours 
 would be freely given ; but, Johnny I will just say one word, and 
 that is, I cannot tell you, of all men, what distresses me. Let that 
 suffice, dear friend, and don't torture me with questions." 
 
 The rector looked amazed, meditated a moment, and blushed. 
 Swiss saw the colour mounting up to his temples, in the moon 
 light. 
 
 " Your song was not all sham, Swiss, was it P 
 
 " No. I am ashamed to own it to you even. But it would be a 
 great lie now. The manhood that longs for death is little worth. 
 In a few days I shall find the path I must take. I am confused 
 now. Did you read Parchment's letter ? I sent it to your study." 
 
 " Yes. It cannot be that which troubles vou."
 
 AH! GEE LA MORT&. 103 
 
 " I don't know. I think I should suffer less if I were poorer. 
 The old gentleman has left a large estate. I must go to Calcutta, 
 I think, as he had extensive interests in India which require look 
 ing after. I am thankful for that prospect. Let us talk about 
 something else. It is not at all jolly for a fellow to be moaning 
 over his own troubles. Johnny," he added suddenly, " if I have 
 to go away, promise me that you will watch over Jack." 
 
 " Certainly, Swiss. I should do that anyhow without a promise. 
 You must tell me what special dangers to avert." 
 
 " I need tell you nothing. We have been boys together, and 
 we know each other's faults and foibles. I know yours so well 
 that I can transfer Jack to you without fear, if you will only feel 
 that you have a charge, as I have always had. Jack is a good 
 boy, has good impulses, but he is easily misled. My work has 
 ever been to counteract evil influences, to watch for them, and to 
 thwart the devil on every side. If you appeal to Jack's honour 
 you will always get him. Let him see the right and he will avoid 
 the wrong." 
 
 " Swiss, dear friend, tell me, have you gotten rid of 'all! die la 
 morte T There is an intonation that reminds me of it while you 
 talk." 
 
 Barston stopped in his walk and raised his big eyes to the glo 
 rious sky . The full moon was climbing over the tree tops on the 
 eastern edge of the park. The rector watched his calm face 
 anxiously, until Barston turned his eyes to his and answered, with 
 inexpressible sweetness, 
 
 " Dear Johnny, I know that my grief is entirely and thoroughly 
 selfish. I hate selfishness enormously. Don't you think I shall 
 root it out ? I know I shall. But in the process there are some 
 poor little plants that I have been cultivating, and watching, and 
 watering, and loving, that must be rooted out also. It will hurt 
 me a little, but will not kill. When I was singing that lying song 
 I did think of possible tigers or cobras in India, but that is gone. 
 I cannot think of any lines more utterly mendacious than " and 
 here he burst into song 
 
 " Ah 1 I have sighed to rest me 
 Deep in the quiet grave !" 
 
 " Let us go in, Parson. Those amiable ladies are sharp eyed 
 and sharp eared. If you have blundered on the truth, with your 
 slow masculine reasoning, how much more infallibly will feminine
 
 104 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 clairvoyance analyze inflections in a fellow's voice. The next hor 
 ror to positive misery is the pity it invokes. Let us go in and be 
 hilarious." 
 
 " That is deceit, Swiss." 
 
 " On the contrary, it is genuine philosophy. I cultivate jollity 
 upon principle. I must go to London on Saturday. When we 
 meet again the clouds will be gone, and we begin to dissipate 
 them to-night. Come in." 
 
 " Poor Swiss !" said the rector, " you must grant me the luxury 
 of sympathy. If you would allow me I might gild the edges of 
 your clouds a little." 
 
 " Bad policy, Johnny ! Don't waste gilding on such bad mate 
 rial. I happen to know that the sunlight is behind them, and 
 sooner or later they will vanish. It is the Sun of Eighteousness, 
 Parson, with healing in His beams." 
 
 " Swiss," said the rector, " I was called out this morning to see 
 one of my flock. It is old Willis. I think his days are num 
 bered. If you would see him you might comfort him in many 
 ways, chiefly by giving him cheerful views of the country beyond 
 the dark valley. There are things he would say to you which he 
 will not say to me. What do you say ? My profound conviction 
 is that a sure place to look for the rays you speak of is in just 
 such ministrations." 
 
 " Thanks, Parson," answered Barston, " I will visit him to 
 morrow. But my creed is not Episcopal, you know." 
 
 " Pooh ! what do I care for your creed ? All creeds are alike 
 when one faces death. I mean the minor fripperies that separate 
 evangelical sects. I am entirely willing to risk Willis in your 
 hands, and I engage to endorse every word you say to him." 
 
 " Come in ! I am going to have ' Trovatore' over again. Your 
 father can easily transpose to A flat, and we will make Miss Clare 
 sing Leonora's part. Allans /" 
 
 CHAPTEE XYI. 
 
 WILLIS. 
 
 46 "A /TY name is Lacy Barston," said that gentleman as the 
 -i-V_L door of Mr. Willis's house was opened, in response to 
 his knock. " May I come in ? Mr. Harwood, the rector, told me 
 Mr. Willis was sick. Are you his daughter f '
 
 WILLIS. 105 
 
 " Yes, sir," answered the handsome girl he addressed ; " walk 
 in, sir. Father is sitting up to-day. He feels better." 
 
 Swiss followed her into the little sitting room at the end of the 
 passage, and found the invalid, propped up in an arm chair at 
 the open window. His daughter placed a chair for the visitor, 
 and taking up some needlework, which she had apparently laid 
 down to admit him, resumed her seat at a little distance, furtivety 
 examining the new comer as she bent over her sewing. She had 
 clear, cold eyes, watchful and keen, and a decided air of self-pos 
 session and composure that attracted Barston's attention. 
 
 " I am glad to see you down stairs, sir," said he, as the girl an 
 nounced him " Mr. Lacy Barston, Father." 
 
 " Thanks," answered Willis, feebly. " I think I feel better 
 down here. The doctor bids me throw physic to the dogs, which 
 I am quite ready to do." 
 
 " The rector invited me to call upon you," said Swiss, turning 
 the full blaze of his gentle eyes upon him; " and it will give me 
 great pleasure to serve you in any way." 
 
 "A little less than kin but more than kind," muttered the sick 
 man. " That is a poor travesty, too. I am sensible of your kind 
 ness, sir, yet hardly know how to avail of it." 
 
 " Mr. Harwood knew I was going to London in a day or two. 
 Perhaps he thought I could render you some service there." 
 
 " No, unless you might . But I hesitate to trouble a gentle 
 man like you with petty commissions." 
 
 " I beg you will dismiss your scruples and entrust me with any 
 business that I can do. It will be a kindness to me, as I desire 
 occupation above all things." 
 
 " Well, sir, there is a manager in London his name is Tomp- 
 kius who may be found at No. 10 Burnet street, Strand. He 
 owes me certain moneys. I do not know how much, but, much 
 or little, 'twill be acceptable. It is my proportion of the gains of 
 his last tour through the provinces." 
 
 " How can I tell if he makes the proper settlement f ' said Bar- 
 stou, entering the name and address in his note book. 
 
 " He is honest. You will only have to tell him that Joe Willis 
 is ill and in need. He will pay you if he has the money. We 
 have been together for three years players, sir, but 
 
 " ' All the world's a stags 
 And all the men and women merely players.'" 
 
 " And at which scene are you now performing ?" said Barston, 
 looking pitifully at the wan face of his interlocutor.
 
 106 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 " The lean and slippered pantaloon at least, and perhaps a 
 little lower. But the last scene-shifting does not appal me so 
 much. I am in doubt about Kitty there, and cannot decide as to 
 her future. There is something in your face and manner, sir, that 
 emboldens me to ask you to watch over her " 
 
 " I need no one to watch over me, Father," said Kitty, gently 
 but decidedly. 
 
 " Foolish girl ! the world is full of snares and pitfalls. This 
 gentleman is the son of the Lady Mary, of whom I have told you. 
 I am a native of the village, Mr. Barston, though I have rarely 
 seen it for more than a dozen years. Kitty was born here, but 
 has been the companion of her father through all his wanderings. 
 When I become a l grave man ' I pray you to think occasionally 
 of my daughter, and shield her from harm if you can." 
 
 " I will. When I return may I see you again ? Thank you. 
 I have been a medical student and have some little knowledge of 
 diseases. I think you will be feeble while you live, but that you 
 will live longer if your mind is tranquil. Have you any other 
 considerations that cause you anxiety besides those that belong 
 to earth?" 
 
 " I can hardly answer you. Perhaps I rely somewhat upon the 
 record of a blameless life, and so find tranquility." 
 
 " It is a safe dependence, my friend. I have no other hope 
 than that, except it be the record of a death also! It is the 
 blameless life and the blameful death, united, that make the un 
 answerable plea." 
 
 " The rector said as much," answered Willis. " He left a book 
 for me to read that interests me greatly. It is here," and he pro 
 duced it. 
 
 " ' The Pilgrim's Progress,' " said Barston. " My dear sir, I 
 leave you in good company. My deliberate judgment is that no 
 uninspired book can compare with l Bunyan.' When I return we 
 will discuss it." 
 
 " I cannot take kindly to this theory of imputation, on either 
 side of it," said Willis thoughtfully. " Adam was too far remote 
 from me to damage me, even if the transmission of guilt were 
 right." 
 
 " Did your father have any pulmonary trouble ?" said Barston. 
 
 u Yes. He died of pulmonary disease." 
 
 " And therefore you sit there feeble and fainting. All the 
 doctors of all schools will tell you that physical ailments descend
 
 WILLIS. 107 
 
 from sire to son. There are many analogies in nature's laws. 
 "Why should not moral ailments be transmitted also F 
 
 " I have not thought of that ! It may be so. But if true, it 
 adds to the difficulty of the converse proposition the righteous 
 ness !" 
 
 " Ah ! brother mortal, that is inherited also ; read rare old 
 1 Buuyan.' No other man has so clearly stated the case. You 
 will be pleased with the quaintness of his utterances. Eead the 
 allegory, and if you find him incomprehensible apply to the rector 
 for explication. I almost know ' Bunyaii ' by heart, and as I grow 
 older, and meet with works of greater pretension, I admire him 
 the more." 
 
 "It is pleasant to hear you, sir," replied the sick man 5 " when 
 may I see you again ?" 
 
 " To-morrow," said Barstou, rising and pressing his hand. " Good 
 bye. Miss Kitty, you may read to your father if he tires. He is 
 happy in having a woman to minister to him, especially as that 
 woman is his daughter." He shook hands with her at parting, and 
 walked rapidly in the direction of the rectory, where Roland 
 awaited his coming. Half an hour later he was cantering through 
 the lodge gates of the Priory, whence an equestrian party was 
 about to start for Oakland. 
 
 " I am puzzled with this new charge," said Swiss to himself, or 
 to Eoland. " Here is an old fellow in the last stage of Phthisis 
 Pidmonalis, if my medical lore is not at fault. The girl evidently 
 knows it, and she is entirely resigned, apparently. She is as self- 
 reliant as Eet Harwood. But there is a wide difference be 
 tween them. Eet walks the earth like a born princess, endowed 
 with a majesty that is unselfish and beneficent. The other seems 
 to rely upon constant watchfulness. Eet's face reflects a thousand 
 emotions. The other manifests no emotion whatever. I foresee 
 that Kitty will furnish me occupation when her father dies. Cold, 
 distrustful and wilful. It would have been far more pleasant to 
 watch over Eet. But there comes in the innate selfishness. In 
 nate ! Selfishness was a prime ingredient of the forbidden fruit. 
 
 " Two or three things to be done. Master Barston. First : con 
 vince yourself that Jack is a worthier fellow than yourself, and 
 then instruct Eet and her father. It is not difficult if you will only 
 be honest. Second : get Parchment to use some of this new money 
 in paying the mortgage on the Lacy lands, and see that you do it 
 so secretly that Jack will not even suspect you. There is a test
 
 108 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 for your wit, my boy. I suspect Parchment won't do. Some other 
 legal limb must be found. Parchment would interpose some stu 
 pid objections, and Lord Morton would pump him dry. Third: old 
 Willis and his money. It is not probable that Mr. Tompkins will 
 have a large balance. You must make him owe Willis, say fifty 
 pounds, and let him remit it himself. If you take it Willis will 
 question you, and lying is out of your line of business. 
 
 u If you attend properly to these little matters, you may perhaps 
 spend Christmas in Calcutta. If all goes well, Jack will be out of 
 your charge by that time, and Willis will also be beyond the 
 reach of your ministrations. Then you may spend a year of mod 
 erate mourning, and educate your heart to cultivate new affec 
 tions. Don't be ass enough to conclude that all nature is antago 
 nistic because you have to root out your foolish love. O, my prin 
 cess! if I might have won thee! But that is positively your last 
 groan, my boy. Accustom yourself to think kindly and as be 
 comes a brother of Jack's wife. There's another stinger for you to 
 throttle. It is worse than old Blixem's pet problem, which you 
 solved by forty-eight hours of patient application. This is a mat 
 ter for forty-eight years, if you live so long. So go at it. 
 
 " Eoland ! I sometimes fancy I should like to be with you in 
 the Crimea again. But it was very poor amusement to be chop 
 ping up those Russian fellows. Yet how you used to enjoy it, 
 Eoland. I have known you to leap clear of the ground, you old 
 rascal, with sabres flashing around you, and the din of the bottom 
 less pit driving men mad. Do you remember getting that scar on 
 your neck ? That was a Cossack lance. The poor fellow that car 
 ried it carried his right arm home in a sling, sir. 
 'Away with melancholy, 
 Nor gloomy changes ring.' 
 
 " The chap that made the music for those jolly words must have 
 had a queer idea of congruity. The Dead March in Saul is no 
 worse. There is the house, and there are the ladies. Jack is assist 
 ing Miss Harwood to mount. Parson Johnny is escorting Miss 
 Tamworth. Eoland, you shall have the honour of trotting beside 
 Lady Morton's bonny bay. Most excellent lady ! I love and re 
 vere you ! You keep ever before me the memory of my mother. 
 A large part of my last dream has been the hope of transferring 
 that title to you. Bah ! Good morning, ladies. You honour me 
 by trusting my punctuality. It is precisely one o'clock. My lady, 
 may I escort you to Oakland P
 
 ONE YEAR LATER. MR. BUTLER. 109 
 
 CHAPTEE XVII. 
 ONE YEAR LATER. MR. BUTLER. 
 
 THE will of Miles Barston, Esq., contained several stipulations. 
 One provided that five thousand pounds should be expended 
 in repairs at Oakland, and even indicated the sort of improvements 
 he desired. Another, after enumerating certain Indian possess 
 ions, directed the legatee, Lacy Barston, to proceed to Calcutta 
 (where the testator died), and to dispose of this property under 
 very accurate instructions. The amount of money invested in 
 Indian securities was considerable, and the wisdom of the old man 
 was manifested in the directions he left for their disposal. When 
 Barston embarked upon the return journey, he was possessor of 
 rather more than one hundred thousand pounds that the East 
 Indian part of his inheritance had yielded. 
 
 The ship Orion had very few passengers from Calcutta, but she 
 called at Port Philip and took up a few more. She also took a new 
 mate, replacing an officer who had died in Calcutta. The new 
 man, whose name was Butler, was young, but proved himself a 
 thorough seaman, to the satisfaction of the captain, who was com 
 pelled to dispense with his ordinary caution and to accept the only 
 sailor he could find in the port with sufficient knowledge to navigate 
 the ship. Butler was very taciturn and reticent would give no 
 other account of himself than that he had deserted from an Ameri 
 can vessel a year earlier to engage in the hunt for gold. He had 
 found some, too, and when the bargain was concluded he entrusted 
 a weighty bag of gold dust to his captain, to be returned to him 
 upon the arrival of the Orion at Liverpool. The ship from which 
 he deserted was the Bellona, and he only did what every other 
 sailor on board had done, namely, relinquish his wages already 
 earned and join the crowds then flocking to the newly discovered 
 diggings. He was not an officer only an able seaman. The story 
 was corroborated by the authorities of the port in the main, and 
 the oifence was very materially modified by its universality at that 
 particular time. Butler was sober, expert and vigilant, and rather 
 a favourite with Captain Hardy after they had been a few weeks at 
 sea. 
 
 Mr. Barston was attracted also by something in the mate's man 
 ner or appearance, but the attraction was not mutual. The sea-
 
 110 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 man, who was tolerably affable with the other passengers, was 
 silent and gloomy whenever Barston was near. Sometimes he 
 affected not to hear when the latter addressed him, and he always 
 spoke in monosyllables when obliged to answer. It was a remark 
 able example of instinctive repugnance with no visible cause. 
 Swiss was puzzled. He had never encountered such unmistakable 
 dislike before. Once there was a sudden squall, common enough 
 in those seas, and in the confusion attendant upon an unexpected 
 order to shorten sail, the mate clambered up the mizzen shrouds in 
 his zeal to aid the sailors, and was dashed down by a blow of the 
 flapping sail. Barston, who was holding himself erect by the 
 leeward rigging, foresaw the catastrophe, and starting forward 
 caught the mate as he fell and drew him under the bulwark, pretty 
 much as an elephant would pull down a bullock. Butler started 
 from his encircling arm with a muttered curse, darted up the lad 
 der again, and fairly secured the sail by skill, strength and pluck 
 combined. But for Barston's interposition he would have been 
 swept over the bulwarks and lost beyond a doubt. Instead of 
 softening in his manner, however, the mate was more repellent 
 than before. 
 
 Swiss had a habit of " not giving up things," as he himself ex 
 pressed it, and he pursued the sailor with his friendship through 
 out the long voyage. To an onlooker the contest was very amus 
 ing. Barston, quietly persisting in polite inquiries as to the mate's 
 health, the ship's progress, the portents of the heavens and the 
 like. Butler, with sleepless vigilance watching the possible drift 
 of each question, and answering with the fewest words possible, 
 and finally wriggling out of the conversation by some pretext con 
 nected with his official duties. 
 
 " I thought you were a Yankee, Mr. Butler," said Swiss one day, 
 catching the mate when engaged in securing a boat at the davits. 
 He could not quit the job until completed, and Barston pursued 
 his advantage. 
 
 " Bid you f replied Butler. 
 
 " Yes. But I discovered my error when I heard you speak. 
 There are certain intonations that are not indigenous out of Eng 
 land. You are not only English but Devonshire." 
 
 Butler glanced at him half in terror and half in anger, but made 
 no reply. 
 
 " I have given some attention to this matter of dialects," contin 
 ued Swiss, meditatively. "If I had time I half fancy that I could
 
 ONE TEAR LATER. MR. BUTLER. Ill 
 
 fix a man's birthplace very accurately by his speech alone. Now 
 Captaiu Hardy is undoubtedly Yorkshire. Mr. Moody, the first 
 mate, is as certainly Lancashire. Beautiful Devon has a lingo of 
 its own." 
 
 " I see no difference," muttered the sailor. 
 
 " Ah ! that is because you have not given the matter your at 
 tention. Devon is the garden of the earth. Perhaps climatic in 
 fluences may affect the voice, as they certainly affect the physical 
 organism, and it may be true that the delicious air of Devon 
 softens the intonations. I don't know any of your name there, 
 but I would wager that you were born not far from Lavington." 
 
 "Here, Tom," said the mate desperately, "splice this infernal 
 ratlin. I must go to the maintop." A sailor relieved Mr. Butler, 
 who was at the masthead a minute later. 
 
 " This chap puzzles me enormously," said Mr. Swiss, lighting a 
 cigar and walking aft ; " there is something about him that seems 
 to recall old memories, and now I am convinced that I have some 
 where and sometime encountered him or some of his breed. I 
 wonder if I ever harmed him or his ? I have a great mind to ask 
 him. But I must not be hasty. My little encounters with Mr. 
 Butler relieve the monotony of this tiresome voyage amazingly. 
 I shall tackle him systematically every day, until I find out why 
 he recoils from me so decidedly." 
 
 Mr. Barston's benevolent intentions were frustrated very unex 
 pectedly the next day. He found the mate standing near the 
 wheelhouse, and, putting on his customary innocent expression, he 
 asked him if he knew the coast near Exeter. 
 
 " Mr. Barston," replied the sailor coldly, " all reference to my 
 birthplace pains me. I have avoided you because I knew you 
 were from Devon. You said you took me for a Yankee. But no 
 Yankee that I have ever met can match you in curiosity !" 
 
 " I sincerely beg your pardon," answered Swiss penitently j 
 "what you say is true. I have annoyed you, I know, though I 
 meant no unkindness. Pra forgive me, and I will trouble you 
 no more. There is the hand of an English gentleman ! Take it, 
 man, and let us be friends !" 
 
 " And strangers," answered the other, grasping his hand. 
 
 "As you will," replied Barston. "I am ashamed of myself for 
 troubling you, and apologize honestly for the past, which was, 
 after all, only a clumsy proffer of friendship. Say that you will 
 forget it."
 
 112 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 " Ay, ay !" said Butler, composedly. I harbour no malice. You 
 caught me the other day when I was going to Davy Joues ! I 
 think you made a mistake !" 
 
 "Now," said Swiss, as the mate left him, "here is another 
 problem for me to work out, and it's a stinger! The rascal has 
 tied me up hand and foot, and I cannot investigate him without 
 denying my very nature. There was something thoroughbred in 
 the way he called me a Yankee! I have a presentiment that Mr. 
 Butler will be a whetstone for my wits for some time to come. 
 What am I to do ? I will die before I give up the task of finding 
 the key to this mystery 5 and I will die before I tackle him again, 
 either secretly or openly ! I must wait the developments of Pro 
 vidence, and watch !" 
 
 When Mr. Barston stepped ashore at Liverpool the problem 
 was still unsolved. It is quite probable that he rather enjoyed 
 his perplexity, and promised himself pleasant occupation in the 
 future while he accumulated facts and recalled memories. " If 
 I can only get enough conditions the equation will be easy," he 
 thought. The next day he was in London and in consultation 
 with Mr. Parchment about the investment of his Calcutta money, 
 and the next found him gliding over the rails towards Lavington. 
 
 The train arrived in the night and Swiss went to the inn. He 
 had not announced his arrival in England, and no one expected 
 him. A sleepy waiter showed him his chamber and asked for 
 orders for the morrow's breakfast. 
 
 " Is Mr. Harwood at the rectory F asked Swiss. 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " Well, I shall breakfast with him." 
 
 " Shall I call you, sir"?" 
 
 " No ; I always waken at the right time. Good night !" 
 
 Poor Swiss was the victim of memories. It was just a year 
 since he sailed for India. During the voyage, and during his 
 residence in Calcutta, his mind was occupied with new interests. 
 But now he fell back upon the life he had left in Devonshire. 
 There had been some changes whose reports reached him in the 
 east. Eet Harwood was Lady Lacy, that was the first Jack's 
 wife. This is the short sentence he had been repeating three hun 
 dred days and nights, like a school boy. Each time he said it 
 with new emphasis, and it always hurt. It was a hard lesson, but 
 he had it now pat Jack's wife. He wondered if Jack appreciated 
 the fact, and he said "of course!" and then he knew he was
 
 BAD NEWS. 113 
 
 lying. He tried to think of Lord and Lady Morton, of Allen and 
 Parson Johnny, but he came back to the old lesson, " Jack's 
 wife," and then he suddenly remembered the Proseuche ! 
 
 "Ah!" said he, turning wearily on his side, "to-morrow, if 
 Eoland is alive and well, I shall visit Eipple Farm. It is curd 
 time, too !" 
 
 Willis died soon after he left last year. There was Kitty to 
 look after. He would go there to-morrow on his way to break 
 fast. Kitty first that was duty. Breakfast next that was neces 
 sity. Finally, Proseuche that was strength. And so he fell 
 asleep. 
 
 He was wakened by the roar of a train coming into the station, 
 and found the sun looking into his window. While he dressed he 
 heard the 'bus drive up to the inn door, and the clatter of luggage, 
 and the voices of porters and passengers. He thought he recog 
 nized a voice, but was not certain, and could not see from his win 
 dow any of the talkers. When he went down the new comers 
 were lounging lazily in the coffee room, but were all strangers. 
 He paid for his lodging, and leaving directions to send his lug 
 gage to the rectory, he marched out on the path of duty. A short 
 walk brought him to the trim little cottage where Willis had 
 lived. He knocked once and again, the door being ajar, and at 
 last, no one appearing, he pushed it open and entered the sitting 
 room. Kitty was there, looking very pretty in her black dress, 
 and her beauty probably somewhat heightened by her blushing 
 face and beaming eyes, as she extricated herself from the encirc 
 ling arms of Mr. Butler ! 
 
 CHAPTEE XVIII. 
 
 BAD NEWS. 
 
 ARSON" JOHIOT," said Swiss as he sipped his coffee, 
 " this Mocha is good. I have brought you a bale, how 
 ever, that has been highly praised. I invested a lot of tin for it 
 in requital of your teachableness. Do you remember how long it 
 took me to make you give up those poisonous Chinese weeds and 
 take to the fragrant berry P 
 
 " I have not given up tea, Swiss. I always drink it at the Eed 
 Hall. By the bye, you have not asked for Eet. She has a little 
 
 8
 
 114 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 daughter. There goes another cup! Sally broke one yesterday. 
 How did you drop it P 
 
 " The coffee was hot, Johnny, and that is mendacious ! I was 
 so startled by your news that I dropped the cup. Ret's baby ! 
 By the three kings of Cologne ! I adopt the child this minute !" 
 This was the extent of Mr. Barston's profanity. " How old is the 
 child, and is she like her mother P 
 
 " One question at a time, Swiss. How old I Let me see, this 
 is the eighteenth. The prodigy is three weeks old. Resemblance? 
 Well, I have not studied her features very carefully, but I think 
 they look like a small lump of pink putty." 
 
 "What an old heathen you are! But no matter. Give me 
 another cup of coffee. Here, make it in the egg cup, as you are so 
 stingy about your china. Why don't you get married, Parson, 
 and live decently *? It is not canonical for a man to be moping 
 over broken cups and saucers !" 
 
 "Why don't you get married yourself, Swiss P retorted the 
 rector. He looked anxiously at his friend's face as he spoke. 
 
 "Now that is a very sensible question," replied Barston, 
 thoughtfully. " I will give the matter very serious consideration. 
 I brought a hundred thousand with me from India. I must either 
 marry or give some of it away. It is too much for a bachelor. 
 By the bye, perhaps I can set up a couple I encountered this 
 morning. Kitty Willis and " 
 
 "Kitty Willis!'' said the rector, "that must be a mistake, 
 Swiss. She has no masculine friends." 
 
 " Ah, but she has. The gentleman came from Australia with 
 me. His name is Butler. I saw him hugging Kitty in her own 
 house. Do you happen to know any Butlers in this vicinity P 
 
 " Yes, two or three. Father always brings old Saunders down 
 here with him. Mr. DeVere has a very stylish butler, who looks 
 positively gorgeous on state occasions. I dined there recently, 
 and was struck with his manly beauty. Such legs, Swiss ! Then 
 Mr. Bottomry, who made such a lot of money on cotton, has a gor 
 geous butler, that he took with the property when he bought Den- 
 ham's estate. None of these know Kitty " 
 
 " What rubbish you are talking, Parson! Now listen to some 
 sensible observations. This Butler joined our ship at Port Philip. 
 I heard him talk, and discovered by his accent, first, that he was 
 Devonshire, and second, that he was Lavington " 
 
 "You are talking rubbish now, Barston; Laviugton has no 
 idioms."
 
 BAD NEWS. 115 
 
 " Indeed !" replied Barston. " Well, I certainly had no intima 
 tion of his birthplace, yet I pronounced him Lavington out at sea, 
 and he acknowledged that I was right. You need not laugh. 
 There is a certain sound in words ending in E peculiar to Laviug- 
 ton." 
 
 " For example P said Mr. Harwood. 
 
 " Contour, uproar, far, spar, bar, tar " 
 
 '' Very good, Swiss. I notice that you twist your tongue half a 
 dozen times round the terminal letter but who else P 
 
 " Why, Jack Lacy." 
 
 " Well, any others P 
 
 " Yes j mother always did." 
 
 " Any other ?" 
 
 "Yes; Mr. Butler." 
 
 "Who finishes your catalogue. Now, Swiss, Til give you a 
 little solid learning. That unfortunate twist in your tongue was 
 inherited from the Countess De Lys, the ancestress of yourself, 
 your mother, and Jack. It is merely a Gallic shibboleth. Mr. 
 Butler probably was similarly unfortunate in having a French 
 ancestor. You never heard me, or Allen, or Father, or Eet talk in 
 that absurd fashion." 
 
 " No," answered Barston dryly, " you are all new comers. You 
 have brought with you the lazy drawl of Essex. I don't remem 
 ber just at this moment any other examples, but no doubt there 
 are plenty within reach. I wish you would look after that Butler 
 a little. I have an uncomfortable presentiment whenever I think 
 of him. I don't know any harm of him, however. He is a good 
 sailor, a glum sort of fellow, but sober, self-contained and silent. 
 There seems to be large capacity for evil in him." 
 
 "Come back to the mutton, Swiss. Your own matrimonial 
 plans are more interesting to me. Now, I will venture " 
 
 " Look you, Johnny, I will answer you once for all, seriously 
 and positively. The woman does not live whom I can ask to 
 marry me ! You need not look shocked. Just rest content with 
 this assurance. I were a wretch to think of it P And he strode 
 over the rector's carpet with the tread of a giant, his smooth brow 
 and placid eyes openly contradicting his dilated nostrils and quiv 
 ering lips. " Some day I will perhaps tell you a story, Parson. 
 If I ever tell it you shall be my auditor. I have never whispered 
 a syllable of it to any man excepting One, whose human sym 
 pathy and whose divine compassion are both engaged in my
 
 116 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 behalf. And I am sure I should have gone mad long ago if He 
 had not heard and helped." 
 
 The rector rose, and putting his arm round the burly waist of 
 his friend, walked silently by his side. Present^ they stopped 
 by a book-case, and the rector produced some cigars. As they 
 lighted them he touched the bell and a servant entered and 
 removed the breakfast remnants. Then they drew their chairs to 
 the window, and throwing open the sash they filled the outer air 
 with their fumigations. 
 
 u Swiss, my dear brother," said the rector tenderly, " I am 
 about to lighten your sorrows by telling you something " 
 
 Barston started, and looked upon him with dilated eyes. 
 
 " I know how to make you forget your troubles," continued Mr. 
 Harwood ; " it is only to excite your sympathy. Know, then, that 
 I also am greatly afflicted." 
 
 Swiss studied his distressed countenance with great concern 
 but made no reply. 
 
 " What I tell you, Swiss, I have gathered in fragments, by ob 
 servation and inference. I have not spoken, to any one about 
 either " 
 
 " What do you mean by l either?'" said Barston. 
 
 " Either trouble, for I have two. The first is not entirely per 
 sonal. It relates to Ket, however " 
 
 " Don't torture me with your horrible rigmarole. Say what you 
 have to tell." 
 
 " I hardly know how. Jack is going astray and is fast break 
 ing Ret's heart. I don't know what he is doing. I have only been 
 able to detect restraint and anxiety, but have not dared to ask 
 any questions. Perhaps I overrate the trouble, but I know that 
 my sister is unhappy and that her husband neglects her cruelly." 
 
 " How long has this been the case?" said Barstou. 
 
 " Always. They went to the continent for the honeymoon. 
 The restraint and anxiety were Visible to me when they returned. 
 I sometimes think my Mother suspects it, but am not sure. Eet 
 does not dissemble, but she makes no sign. My inference is that 
 Jack gambles. He is in a bad set. Callahan is at Exeter with 
 his regiment, and he and a lot of his fellows are at DeVere's every 
 week, and Sir John always meets them there. They play every 
 night, and for high stakes, I fear. Old Mr. Bottomry, who has the 
 reputation .of lending money upon good security, asked me some 
 questions touching the value of the Eed Hall and lands only a
 
 COLONEL SIR JOHN LACY. Ill 
 
 week ago. I don't believe he would have made the inquiries 
 without an object, aiid I suppose Jack is trying to borrow money 
 from him. I was at the Hall yesterday and learned not from 
 Eet but from Mother that Sir John had been absent a week. 
 One would think that nothing short of urgent business would take 
 him away at such a time. Ret is very much engrossed with her 
 baby, and did not appear distressed ; but, Swiss, that marriage 
 has proved a failure. Alas ! it is a horrible failure !" and the rec 
 tor covered his face with his hands and groaned aloud. 
 
 " Johnny," said Barston steadily, " it may not be so bad as you 
 think. It may be that God has brought me home in time. You 
 were right about my sorrows ; they are all gone. And now I have 
 positive, clearly defined work before me, which I hope to perform." 
 
 " What is your purpose, Swiss ?" 
 
 " To restore Jack's honeymoon ! I want wisdom and grace. 
 Oh ! Johnny, I am sorely distressed ! I see, better than you can, 
 how Jack has been misled led captive by the devil of play. It 
 is the outbreaking of an old leprosy. I got him away from Baden 
 last year almost by violence. He is the most desperate gambler 
 I have ever seen or read about. And you, dear friend, have been 
 brooding over this all this time. Why have you not consulted 
 Lord Morton ?" 
 
 u Ah, Barston, how could I distress my Father " 
 
 " It would have been better and wiser ; but now let us keep this 
 miserable secret between us. If I cannot restore Jack to paths of 
 rectitude 110 one else can. Heigho ! Out of the depths have I 
 cried unto thec, O Lord ! Heavenly wisdom is the prerequisite 
 here. If any man lack wisdom, let him ask of God, who giveth 
 liberally. That is a faulty translation, Parson ; it is not ' liberally,' 
 it is far more. The word is ' simply ;' that is, God giveth simply 
 as if all His perfections culminated in His character of the Giver. 
 What blind moles men are to yield to despair ! Courage, Johnny ! 
 I have a Proseuche !" 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 COLONEL SIR JOHN LACY. 
 
 WHILE the two friends were discussing the matters recorded 
 in the preceding chapter, Sir John Lacy was rapidly riding 
 towards the Red Hall. He had spent the previous night at Mr. 
 DeVerc's with two or three officers from Exeter. The rumours of
 
 118 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 heavy play were founded on fact, and Lacy had lost large sums, 
 and his friends had given him very significant hints of their desire 
 for settlements. At the time of his marriage Lord Morton, who 
 had been his guardian, announced his intention of paying the 
 mortgage upon the Lacy estate ; bat the solicitor who represented 
 the holder of this claim had declared it satisfied, asserting that 
 some transactions between him and Sir Elbert Lacy were still un 
 settled, and enough money remained in his hands to free the Red 
 Hall from encumbrance. Mr. Parchment was very much dissatis 
 fied with the report he received, but he could extort nothing 
 from his brother solicitor beyond the bare acknowledgment that 
 the mortgage was paid. The ten thousand pounds which had 
 been devoted to this object Lord Morton then settled upon his 
 daughter. It was all gone before the happy pair returned from 
 the Continent, and poor Ret came home disenchanted. Her ex 
 postulations seemed to cause her husband such exquisite pain that 
 she shrank from their repetition until the last of the money was 
 gone. He was repentant and full of plans of reformation, when 
 they were fairly settled at the Eed Hall, until he met his old 
 associates, Oallahan and others, a few months before Barston's 
 return. 
 
 The rector was right in his surmise about the mortgage. Mr. 
 Bottomry had a lien upon the Red Hall equal to the amount Bar- 
 ston had secretly paid, and it was Sir John's application for an 
 additional loan that had induced the old money lender's questions 
 to Mr. Harwood. 
 
 The baronet had recently been elected colonel of a regiment of 
 volunteers. It was at the time when the formation of rifle regi 
 ments was the popular amusement of Englishmen. There was a 
 review to come off to-morrow on the downs near Lavington, and 
 Sir John was going to the Red Hall for his uniform. 
 
 And something else. 
 
 This inveterate gambler had arrived at the point reached by all 
 fools who fall into that vortex. He thought he had learned how 
 to win, and if he could only get a few thousands to start with 
 he could soon reclaim his losses. He had seen Mr. Bottomry 
 that morning, who declined making further advances upon the 
 Red Hall unless " Lady Lacy's dower right were vacated." He 
 would lend upon other property, such as jewels, but the ten thous 
 and he had already lent was the utmost extent he would go upon 
 Sir John's signature alone.
 
 COLONEL SIR JOHN LACY, 119 
 
 " Now," thought the baronet, as he cantered over the turf, " if 
 I can persuade Eet to sign the paper, or get her to lend ine her 
 diamonds, I shall be all right again." 
 
 He threw his bridle into the hand of his groom and entering 
 the hall met Mrs. Frooine the housekeeper. The old lady was 
 perpetually on the watch for dismal portents. 
 
 " How fares my lady f ' said he. 
 
 " Better, Sir John. She is sitting up in her chamber. Walk 
 up, sir." 
 
 " Presently, Mrs. Froome. I came away so early that I have 
 had no breakfast. Can you send me a chop and a cup of tea P 
 
 " Certainly, Sir John. Where shall I serve P 
 
 " In the library, please. I want to look over some papers. Can 
 you ask my lady for the safe key P 
 
 "Yes, sir; but but hadn't you better step up yourself 1 ? It 
 will take a few minutes to cook the chop, and my lady might 
 think " 
 
 " Oh, certainly. I have been away two days. I'll be down in 
 a few minutes, Mrs. Froome," and he went up the great stairs. 
 
 " Dear me !" muttered Mrs. Froome ; " he said the identical 
 words : ' How fares my lady ?' When the Eed Lacy came in that 
 fearful night that was his question. I vow he looks like the pic 
 ture, too !" So saying she bustled off to the kitchen to order Sir 
 John's breakfast. 
 
 The pallid face of Lady Lacy flushed slightly as her husband 
 entered the chamber. She was in a reclining chair near the open 
 window. Miss Tamworth was by her side, holding the sleeping 
 babe upon her lap. 
 
 " Good morning, Eet. Good morning, Miss Clare. I am glad 
 to see you sitting up, my dear. Is that the heiress of Lacy? 
 What a jolly little mite it is ! I had forgotten the review, Eet, 
 which comes off to-morrow, you know. I wish you were well 
 enough to drive over to the downs. Miss Tain worth, you can go, 
 certainly." 
 
 " Not without Eet, Sir John. We shall have to wait for the next 
 time. Take this chair." 
 
 " No, thank you. I am going to get a chop in the library. I 
 left DeVere's before they were up, and the ride has given me a 
 famous appetite. My lady, lend nie the safe key, please ; I want 
 to look over some law papers." 
 
 " The key is in the jewel case. There it is, near the head of the 
 bed. It opens with a spring. You know the secret P
 
 120 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 " Oil, yes ; open sesame ! Comme fa- ! Here it is ;" and he 
 held up the key. I will bring it back after breakfast. There is 
 Mrs. Froome's signal tinkle, tinkle ! The chop is ready and so 
 am I Ladies, au revoir! Miss Lacy," and he touched the cheek 
 of the infant timidly, " I wish I dared to take you in my arms. 
 What a jolly little pink mite it is!" 
 
 And stepping gingerly over the carpet, with the air of a man 
 who respected the sanctity of a sick room, the baronet withdrew. 
 
 After satisfying the cravings of his vigorous appetite, the young 
 husband and father set himself resolutely to the investigation of 
 his " law papers." These consisted of copies of mortgages and 
 various memoranda of indebtedness, with a statement of his 
 sources of revenue. With knitted brows Lacy pursued his un 
 customary toil with figures and estimates, and finally put away 
 the documents with a sigh. 
 
 " If I could only get clear of that cursed mortgage to old Bot 
 tomry, and wipe out the I. O. U. that Callahan and DeVere hold, 
 I should be passably comfortable." He muttered this as he walk 
 ed restlessly to and fro, swinging the safe key on his finger. The 
 only place to look for lost property is in the hole it was lost in. 
 That stands to reason. Ecarte ! The devil never invented the 
 equal of that game. But I think I have discovered the way to 
 win. And this shall be my last trial, by Heaven !" 
 
 He sat down and covered his face with his hands, as if to shut 
 out the light, and after some minutes he started up again j he was 
 greatly disturbed as he resumed his march and his self-conimun- 
 ings. 
 
 " Here is the case. I must get back that money ! And I must 
 have Bet's diamonds to start with. They are worth twenty thous 
 and pounds. I will borrow ten on them, and win back iny lands 
 and money, and then replace them. I cannot discuss the matter 
 while Miss Tarn worth is there ; and the case is lying waiting for 
 me. I touched it when I got the key. I can touch it again when 
 I put it back. After all, the jewels are mine by a double right. 
 They are the old Lacy heir-loom, and I am the legal owner of my 
 wife's personal property. And I am only borrowing them. It 
 really looks like a change of luck already begun to have them 
 actually under my hand." 
 
 This was very cogent reasoning. 
 
 When he went back to his wife's chamber he found her nlone. 
 Her chair had been wheeled round away from the window and she
 
 COLONEL SIR JOHN LACY. 121 
 
 seemed to be sleeping. He went noiselessly to the corner where 
 the iron box stood, and opening it replaced the key. The little 
 case was there, and seizing it with unsteady hand he allowed the 
 iron lid to fall into its place with a snap. The sound aroused Lady 
 Lacy, and thrusting the jewel case into his pocket he approached 
 her hastily. 
 
 " I have put the safe key back," he said, avoiding her eye. 
 
 "Have you F 
 
 " Yes. I must go back to DeVere's to dinner. He has invited 
 a lot of fellows from Exeter all officers of the regiment and it 
 just suits me, as I can wear my uniform, you know. The review 
 comes off quite early " 
 
 " Mother will be here this evening. I thought you would be 
 home to-night. She has promised to stay all the week." 
 
 " Well, I shall have the pleasure of dining with her to-morrow, 
 and every other evening. This is my last night away from home. 
 Dear Ret," he continued remorsefully, " you were out of luck when 
 you took so good-for-nothing a dog as I. What a poor selfish wretch 
 I have been ! But I will do better hereafter." He stooped over 
 her and kissed her forehead. " This time I am tied up to these 
 fellows, but I shall be clear of all entanglements after to-night. I 
 must go before Lady Morton comes, 1 fear, as I have to see old 
 Bottomry on business. Will you make my excuses ?" 
 
 " Yes, if you must go." 
 
 " I think I must. Here is Mrs. Froome. When you go down, 
 Mrs. Froome, please tell Burgess to put the military saddle and 
 holsters on Saladin. I must get niy uniform. Good-bye, my lady, 
 until to-morrow." 
 
 " Good-bye ! Will you return early P 
 
 " I hope so. Yes, certainly." And so they parted. 
 
 An hour afterwards the handsome young soldier was cantering 
 gaily down the road, his long sabre hooked up to his belt. He had 
 met Lady Morton's carriage, and exchanged greetings with his 
 mother-in-law, giving her encouraging accounts of Bet's convales 
 cence. " What a beautiful boy he is !" thought Lady Morton as the 
 carriage proceeded," if he were only more stable. Perhaps paternity 
 may sober him. I hope so for Eet's sake. People get along with 
 out very excessive love now-a-days!" and she mused upon the 
 short, undemonstrative married life of her daughter until the car 
 riage stopped at the grand entrance to the Eed Hall. 
 
 It was near the close of the afternoon when Sir John turned out
 
 122 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 * of the main road and rode down a shady lane. Mr. Bottomry's 
 house was a mile or two off by the lane. The baronet remem 
 bered a short cut across the meadow, and selecting a low place 
 in the hedge he spurred his horse to the leap, and as he struck the 
 soft turf on the other side of the hedge he reined up Saladin to 
 avoid the shock, as another cavalier galloped up to the spot he had 
 just cleared. 
 
 CHAPTEE XX. 
 
 Swiss. 
 
 "TACK!" 
 
 U "Swiss!" 
 
 " Where are you going ? Where are you from F said both to 
 gether, as they shook hands with great vigour. 
 
 " I am so glad to meet you, dear Jack," said Barston. " I have 
 been to the Eipple Farm, and came through by Bottomry's. Were 
 you going there f ' 
 
 "Yes," answered Sir John doubtfully. "What in the world 
 did you want of Bottomry ? Surely you don't want to borrow 
 money ?" 
 
 " No, indeed, I am rolling in wealth. I should like to see you 
 borrowing from anybody else than Lacy Barston. So ! You were 
 on your way to this old rascal, were you ? What do you want 
 with money, Jack, and how much do you want f 
 
 " Too much for you. to lend me, Swiss," answered the baronet 
 gloomily. 
 
 " That answers only one question. What is your present need f 
 
 "Don't ask me, Swiss. Please let me go to Bottomry now. I 
 pledge you my honour that I will never go there again." 
 
 " You won't go this time either," answered Swiss, positively. "I 
 have just left Bottomry, and you are out of his debt. Here ! I 
 have bought your mortgage, Jack, and I would tear it up before 
 your eyes only there are certain legal formalities to observe. 
 Meantime, you owe me ten thousand pounds." 
 
 "Swiss!" 
 
 " Where are you going, Jack ?" 
 
 "ToDeVere's." 
 
 " Well, I called there this morning, too, and have an invitation 
 to dine and sleep there. If you go, I go."
 
 SWISS. 123 
 
 " Oh, Swiss, I don't want you to go. Just give me this one 
 night. I caimot tell you any lies. Those fellows have won so 
 huge a lot of tin from me that I am desperate. I was going to 
 borrow a little more from Bottomry and then win back my losses." 
 
 " Poor Jack," answered Barstou pitifully ; " why, you foolish boy, 
 you can never win from Callahan and DeVere. If you had all of 
 Bottomry's money tliey would have it before morning. I know 
 them thoroughly. They are unprincipled sharpers, and if they 
 don't positively cheat, they at least have a way of winning that 
 is infallible. Did I ever deceive you, Jack P 
 
 il Never, Swiss." 
 
 " You can't win, Jack, because you are a gentleman. Those fel 
 lows are not troubled with that obstacle. They are blacklegs !" 
 
 " Fie, Swiss ! You should not say so." 
 
 " But I should, Jack, because it is true." 
 
 " You should not say so in their absence"." 
 
 " I will repeat it, Jack, in their presence to-night if I go back 
 with you," answered his friend quietly. 
 
 " You would have to fight them, Swiss." 
 
 " Very likely. If any of their brother officers overheard my 
 remarks they could hardly avoid it." 
 
 "And then F 
 
 " And then I would fight them, with cavalry sabres and cut off 
 their fingers," replied Swiss coolly. " It would spoil their skill 
 at ecarte. Don't you believe I could do it ? You have seen me 
 handle the implement. Here, hand me your sabre. So, Eoland !" 
 and taking the weapon he rode up to the hedge. " See here, Jack, 
 here are five buds, watch them !" Waving the bright blade above 
 his head as it flashed in the sunlight, he went through the ordi 
 nary^ exercise, counting at each stroke. 
 
 " One, two, three, four, five ! There are the buds on the turf. 
 E have the same wrist that I brought from the Crimea. Do you 
 remember that poor Cossack that wounded Eoland ?" 
 
 " Yes, Swiss. He thrust his spear into Eoland's neck because 
 you would not let him get at me, and then you laid his shoulder 
 open." 
 
 "Exactly! If he had been playing ecarte" with you I should 
 have taken his fingers. Come, Jack, brother, come home!" 
 
 "Impossible! My regiment parades to-morrow, and I have 
 promised DeVere to spend the night with him. '' 
 
 " But I bear you his permission to spend it with me instead,"
 
 124 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 answered Barston. " I told him I had just arrived from India, 
 and he could not deny me. I could not ask him about your debts 
 to him, Jack," he continued simply, " because that would have 
 been indecorous, and because I knew you would tell me. I will 
 pay him. Come home !" 
 
 " Barston," said Lacy, with glistening eyes, " I cannot take this 
 money from you. You cannot humiliate me so, can you ? Don't 
 you see how sorely you hurt me ?" 
 
 " Jack !" said Swiss, his loving eyes blazing " dear kinsman, 
 bethink you ! In all the world I have no kindred but you and 
 your baby. When Parson Johnny told me of her birth I vowed 
 she should be my heiress. I have brought a hundred thousand 
 pounds home with me. I left as much in England. Why should 
 you not have it now? It is yours if you outlive me, and it is your 
 child's anyhow. To whom could I leave this useless money ? and 
 how much more sensible and pleasant to share it with you now, 
 while none will know it but ourselves and God. Humiliate you, 
 my brother ! Why, Jack, you put me to shame, because you com 
 pel me to remind you that I have placed my life between you and 
 danger more than once. Do you think more of my money than of 
 my blood ? Oh, Jack, you need not be told that I am ready to im 
 peril life and fortune for you and yours, now and always." 
 
 " Swiss," said Lacy, " suppose our cases were reversed. If you 
 had been foolish and weak and had involved yourself in ruin ; 
 suppose I had two hundred thousand pounds, would you take 
 my charity and live in idleness and peace?" 
 
 Barston winced. His entire life had been one of sturdy inde 
 pendence. His slender patrimony had barely sufficed for his 
 simple wants until his eccentric kinsman had left him his fortune, 
 and yet no eloquence could persuade him to accept a penny from 
 the old Indian while he lived. 
 
 " Jack," he said, at last, " your question is unfair. I am so 
 constituted that I could not have fallen into similar circumstances. 
 For example: I could not play ecarte at all. I couldn't bear to 
 keep the money if I won ; it would scorch my fingers ! Again, I 
 could never have been deceived and cheated by such shallow 
 knaves as Callahan and DeVere. But, brother !" and here his 
 great eyes kindled again, " if you had inherited money, and I were 
 in need, surely I would take freely from you what you would freely 
 offer me ; especially, if you had no mortal nearer than myself to 
 share with you."
 
 SWISS. 125 
 
 " But you will marry, Swiss " 
 
 ' Never ! my heart is in the grave !" replied Swiss passionately. 
 " Oh, Jack ! my heart is hard as the nether millstone dead as a 
 ton of door nails ! and if you deny me the brother's right to help 
 you, to live for you, to deliver you from the devil's clutches, as in 
 the present emergency, to restore you to your wife with the 
 burden off your heart oh, Jack, do you not know that she is 
 withering under the same burden ! if you deny me now, I swear 
 to you the blessed sun shines in vain for me !" 
 
 " I am conquered, Swiss ! God helping me, I will nevermore 
 touch a card ! I will do precisely what you say, dear kinsman, 
 true friend, loyal gentleman ! Shall I go directly home f You 
 do not doubt me ?" 
 
 " Doubt you, Jack! Surely not. You may go to DeYere's if 
 you like. I will trust you in the very jaws of the pit, now that I 
 have your promise. Will you let me settle with those villains 
 or will you take some of your money to-morrow and do it your 
 self?" 
 
 " Better let me do it. I will ride back now. Where are you 
 going? Won't you come with me "?" 
 
 " As far as Lavington. I must see Parson Johnny to-night. 
 To-morrow I want to see my heiress. Ha ! Eoland, over we go ! 
 Come oii, Jack ! Saladin leaps like an antelope. Here, put up 
 your sabre again. I forgot I had it." 
 
 " It looks very stupid, Swiss," said Sir John, " for me to be 
 riding over the country in all this finery." 
 
 " Behold !" answered Barston, " the orb of day is sinking be 
 hind the western hills. An hour hence he will be hidden beneath 
 the tossing waves, and then we will ride on in darkness and 
 your finery will be invisible. By the time the moon appears you 
 will be within striking distance of the Ked Hall, and when her 
 light appears above the tree-tops of the Dark Wood you will be 
 filling yonr wife's heart with joy in telling her of your late re 
 solve." 
 
 " And of my brother's faithful love " 
 
 " None of that nonsense, Jack. Just tell her that you have re 
 flected and decided to do right. Don't bother her about your 
 pecuniary affairs. Women don't know anything about such 
 matters ; and besides, she might tell Lord Morton, and make all 
 sorts of mischief. I think you and I can arrange everything. You 
 know my father was your guardian, and no doubt he owed you a 
 lot of money . What are you laughing at ?"
 
 126 THE LACY DIAMONDS.. 
 
 " It sounds so funny to hear you lying, Swiss !" 
 
 u You're another !" said Barston. il Here's my road and there 
 is yours. Oh, Jack ! if I could only tell you how happy you have 
 made me. The last vestige of pure emotion that is left me is my 
 love for you ! Good night ! God bless you, old Jack !" 
 
 " Good night ! God bless you, old Swiss !" 
 
 CHAPTEE XXI. 
 THE POWER OF PRAYER. 
 
 a -pAESON JOHNNY," said Swiss, pushing his chair back 
 
 -L from the table, " this business of feeding three or four 
 times a day is altogether unworthy of intellectual beings." 
 
 " It depends a little upon physiological science, Swiss," answered 
 the rector. " If the brain is the thinking part of your organism, 
 the doctors say it requires supplies of phosphorus, which you get 
 from food." 
 
 " Very well. I accept the explanation. I wonder if there is 
 any phosphorus in curds ? The old lady had two to-day, and I 
 am afraid I ate both of them." 
 
 " Where did you find Jack?" 
 
 " In Bottomry's meadow ; I went first to my Proseuche " 
 
 " What in the world do you mean, Swiss ?" 
 
 " Don't you know I Well, Paul found Lydia at one of those 
 places ' where prayer was wont to be made' that is, i ProseucheS 
 Some of the patriarchs had them. Jacob had several; Bethel 
 was one. Samuel had one, where he reared the great pillar, 
 Ebenezer. No doubt Paul had one " 
 
 " You mean Saint Paul, I presume," put in the rector. 
 
 " Yes. I also mean sinner Paul. He bore both titles. Concern, 
 ing his saintship, he says he is less than the least of all saints. 
 Concerning the sinnership, he says he is the chief of sinners. I 
 opine that the Proseuche was more precious in view of the 
 latter." 
 
 "Go on with your story. I cannot stop to argue with you 
 now." 
 
 " I suppose not. I went to the curds next. Then to DeVere's. 
 I found Callahan there, and found that Jack had been there some 
 days. I also learned that he had gone home for his uniform, and
 
 THE POWER OF PRATER. 127 
 
 that lie had some business with Bottomry. So 1 went there. I, 
 also, had a little business with Bottomry, which I despatched. 
 Jack not arriving, I concluded to meet him en route, and taking- a 
 short cut across a meadow, I found Sir John leaping the hedge 
 just as I was putting Eoland at it." 
 
 " Go on, Swiss," said Mr. Harwood, with kindling eyes. 
 
 " There is not much more to say, Johnny. He was overjoyed 
 to see me, and very soon told me all his story. He thought he 
 was terribly involved, and was consequently somewhat cut up. 
 But the poor boy never did know much about figures. Confiden 
 tially, parson, those rascals have been cheating Jack's eyes out 
 of his head, but with careful management he will come out all 
 right. When we compared notes he found out he was better off 
 by ten thousand pounds than he thought !" 
 
 " Indeed ! The notes you compared were bank notes " 
 
 " Your wit is positively stunning, parson. What I say is that 
 Jack owed ten thousand pounds less than he thought when I met 
 him. The little he owes those blackguards I'll lend him, and he 
 has done with cards forever." 
 
 " Are you sure, Barston F 
 
 " Yes, positively certain. I trust his promise, and while he lives 
 I shall never leave him again. Yesterday I projected a trip to the 
 Arctic circle. I wished to verify some isothermal charts. To-day 
 I trample upon all the demands of science and devote myself to 
 Jack. He is safer under tutelage, and he will allow no one to 
 bully him except old Swiss." 
 
 " You have never seen him since his marriage until to-day," said 
 the rector. " I remember that you sailed as soon as the prelimi 
 naries were arranged. Jack has your room furnished at the Eed 
 Hall. It is the great room Sir Ranald's." 
 
 Barston's pleasant face clouded. A troop of thoughts galloped 
 through his mind, all of them painful. He tried to think of Ret 
 and her child as rejoicing in Jack's peaceful life, but he could not. 
 Something oppressed him, and he longed for some secret place 
 where he might hide himself and groan, and as he glanced out at 
 the pure moonlight he actually thought of getting his horse again 
 and seeking his " munition of rocks." 
 
 " Parson," he said suddenly, " you know Episcopal preaching 
 usually consists of moral essays twenty minutes long. Suppose 
 you vary the performance and give your flock something didac 
 tic P
 
 128 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 u What can you suggest, Swiss f replied tlie rector, good- 
 humouredly. 
 
 " The potency of prayer. Let us discuss it a little and you can 
 write a sermon in an hour. There are only two or three points." 
 
 " With all my heart. I should like to have you for my curate, 
 Swiss. Begin !" 
 
 " First, then, the condition of the creature, when normal, is de 
 pendence upon the Creator. Elaborate that. You will find some 
 good hints in John Owen on the one hundred and thirtieth 
 Psalm, if you don't mind stealing some old thunder. You will be 
 pretty safe, as no man among your auditors will detect the theft 
 unless I am there." 
 
 " That is very good, my reverend friend. So much for the duty. 
 Xow for the encouragement." 
 
 " It is not so easy. If you make your argument upon bare 
 revelation there is no difficulty. There are multitudes of texts 
 containing the promise of success. I need not quote them to you. 
 But there is a little book, by Godwin, called t The Beturn of 
 Prayers,' which has some wonderfully clear arguments set forth 
 in quaint style. This, also, is a safe place from which to steal 
 ideas, as the book is not at all popular." 
 
 "I have the book and have read it with great pleasure and 
 profit. John Owen, also. It is quite likely that I have already used 
 them both without quotation marks. But you have not suggested 
 what I am waiting for. I want some distinct line of argument 
 that will meet the current unbelief of humanity. Men repeat 
 prayers, day by day, with some vague apprehension of the duty, 
 and still more vague expectation of profit. How can I argue to 
 make this expectation distinct and positive?" 
 
 Barston rested his head on his hand and mused. The rector's 
 question was a hard one, and the ready answers that came into 
 his mind were not arranged in order for didactic discourse. 
 
 " Let us light our cigars, Parson, and walk out in the moon 
 light," he said at length. " Perhaps I can shake my ideas into 
 shape as we walk." 
 
 " With all my heart," answered the rector. " We will walk the 
 entire length of the street, and then our cigars will have van 
 ished. As we return we will stop and see Kitty Willis. I should 
 like to ask her some friendly questions about this new arrival 
 what do you call him Mr. Butler 1" 
 
 Miss Kitty answered their knock in person. They found an
 
 THE POWER OF PRAYER. 129 
 
 old dame in the little parlour, who, Barston learned afterwards, 
 had been living with Kitty since her father's death. Kitty was 
 an expert sempstress, demure and diligent, and she resumed her 
 work, blushing a little at the remembrance of her morning inter 
 view with Mr. Barstou ; but she was so perfectly composed that 
 the rector found it difficult to ask her his " friendly" questions. 
 
 " Mr. Barston tells me," he said, after the ordinary greetings 
 had been exchanged, " that his vessel brought a friend of yours 
 from Australia a Mr. Butler ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir," replied Kitty. 
 
 " Have you known him long ?" continued Mr. Harwood. 
 
 " Fourteen years, sir." 
 
 li Is he a native of Devonshire ?" 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 " Do you know any of his kindred ? The name is new to me in 
 this locality." 
 
 u I have not lived here very long, sir. You know my father 
 came only a year before he died. I did not become acquainted 
 with Mr. Butler in Devon." 
 
 " Has he not spoken of his family to you F persisted the rector. 
 
 " Not much, sir. I believe he is not on good terms with his re 
 lations. I met him first in Yorkshire fourteen years ago, when 
 we were both children. He afterwards went to sea, and has not 
 been in England since, until to-day. There are some reasons why 
 reference to his English life is disagreeable to him, and I have 
 not felt at liberty to distress him only to gratify an idle curios 
 ity." All this was said very steadily, and the rector was rather 
 discomfited. Swiss thought he would like to be somewhere else, 
 but he came to Mr. Harwood's assistance. 
 
 " It is something more than idle curiosity, Miss Willis," he said 
 gravely, " that prompts Mr. Harwood's questions. He is much 
 interested in your welfare, and as the rector of the parish, it is his 
 duty to watch over you. You may also remember that your 
 father requested me to shield you from harm if any threatened 
 you. The obligation is binding upon me. I do not assume such 
 responsibilities lightly, nor do I relinquish such charges without 
 good reason. If you cannot satisfy us about the moral character 
 of Mr. Butler, we are both bound to seek information from other 
 sources. You are inexperienced, and may be misled by your 
 feelings. We need not tell you that we have no motive in our 
 interference but your good." 
 
 9
 
 130 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 " You and the rector are both very kind, sir," answered the 
 girl, "but you may rely upon iny discretion in this instance. It 
 may be that Mr. Butler will volunteer to satisfy one or both of 
 you in due time. It would not be proper for me to suggest this 
 to him. You and Mr. Harwood will decide for yourselves whether 
 or not you are called upon to investigate him." This was said 
 with so much composure that her visitors felt that their work was 
 done for the evening. They accordingly bade her good night and 
 retired. 
 
 "It appears to me, Swiss," said the rector, when they were 
 again in the street, " that Miss Kitty rather got the better of you 
 in that discussion. You looked very crestfallen as you left her." 
 
 " Sympathy, my dear Parson," answered Barston. " If you are 
 so easily daunted by a woman's sharp tongue in all your pastoral 
 visits, I pity you." 
 
 " I don't think I ever encountered one like Kitty's. She is the 
 pluckiest girl in the village. What in the world did you take me 
 there for P 
 
 " I believe you mean l what in the something else,' only you 
 don't like to express your real sentiments. I did not take you. 
 You took me." 
 
 " But it was some suggestion of yours about this Butler that 
 got me into the mess. What is amiss in the man ?" 
 
 " I cannot tell," replied Swiss, thoughtfully. " My instinct, 
 which I dare not distrust and cannot contradict, bids me beware 
 of this Butler. I am attracted to him, interested in him, and at 
 the same time repelled. I am not at all sure, however, that Kitty 
 is not a full match for him. What a tigress she is ! It is a curious 
 fact that she exerts the same double influence upon me half at 
 tractive, half repulsive. Her cold self-possession is a perpetual 
 challenge !" 
 
 " I suppose I may as well tell you, Swiss, that I have caught 
 you in a fraud. All that matter you were trying to get out about 
 the power of prayer I read in print. It was published in the 
 Christian Visitor about a year ago. I remember it was signed 
 1 Proseuche.' Now, you read the thing there, and have imbibed 
 the sentiments, and have tried, in your blundering way, to put 
 them forth as your original thinking." 
 
 " Was it a good paper, Parson?" 
 
 " Very. Far better than your dilution of it." 
 
 " Well, Parson," said Swiss coolly, " some of these days your 
 sharpness will be the death of you. I wrote that paper !"
 
 A LETTER. 131 
 
 " Did you, old Swiss !" replied his friend, squeezing his arm. 
 " You don't know how much comfort you have given me ! I al 
 most know it by heart. My poor Swiss ! you must have passed 
 through deep waters to have thought out that article ! But you 
 have made me so confident that I almost think I can get what 
 ever I ask for " 
 
 " So you can, Johnny, with certain limitations. I got Jack to 
 day because I prayed first. He was going to destruction ; and 
 when I left him he was on the high road to prosperity and peace. 
 If we don't get the exact form of the thing we pray for, we get 
 mors and better. Here is the station, and the London train will 
 start in five minutes and will take me. I must see old Parchment 
 to-morrow. No use to expostulate, my boy. I have to go. I stole 
 four of your cigars, so I am supplied with all necessaries. There 
 is the bell, by the three kings ! Good night, Parson." 
 
 The rector watched the train until it was lost to view behind 
 the hills, and then slowly returned to the parsonage. At the 
 door, a groom holding a horse accosted him with startling in 
 telligence. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Harwood, please mount Saladin and ride at once to 
 the Hall ! Sir John has been thrown, and I am afraid he is dead. 
 I have sent the doctor, and Jennings went to the Priory for Lord 
 Morton. Kide fast, sir, please!" 
 
 "TV yT 
 -i-V_L 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 A LETTER. 
 
 LONDON, 31st August, 18 . 
 
 Y DEAR JOHNNY: How can I go to Devon? I cannot. 
 There is no possible occupation for me there. It seems 
 like a year since Jack died, and it has only been two weeks ! I 
 dare not go back. Indeed, I am not at liberty to go. Do you re 
 member Spencer at Oxford? He has been on two exploring 
 expeditions, and to-morrow starts on the third. His destina 
 tion is the Antarctic circle, and I have enrolled myself among 
 his crew. He said Providence had certainly sent me to him, as 
 he lacked a man with my smattering of scientific knowledge,
 
 132 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 my smattering of medical lore, and my invincible physique. Oh, 
 Johnny ! it is true that Providence sent Spencer to me, for I 
 should have gone mad under the terrible shock, if this long 
 voyage and its duties had not been presented. I long to get 
 away from the earth, and this comes nearest to it. It is the 
 wildest goose-chase that any poor lunatic ever projected. Yet 
 Spencer is so full of it, so sanguine, so determined, that I have 
 caught the frenzy. When this reaches you I shall be on blue 
 water. 
 
 u Parchment has my will. I have made you my executor, 
 Johnny. If you have to assume the duties of the office, dear 
 friend, before another summer comes and goes, will you not be 
 lieve that I have found rest? Ah, what a full answer that would 
 be to all my prayers since they began at my mother's knee ! 
 
 " I ought to say something to you for you to repeat to Lady 
 Lacy. I was with Jack last. The substance of our conversation 
 I told you that fatal night. But she will probably wish, to know 
 every word he spoke. Alas ! I cannot recall anything. I only 
 remember his beautiful face, full of affection, when we parted ; 
 and I think I may say his mind was free from trouble, as he and 
 I had fully arranged matters before we separated. All the future 
 looked bright to him, poor boy ! 
 
 " But there is one thing I may say to you, and to Lady Lacy 
 through you. I have been denying it to myself for three or 
 four years, yet I knew all the time that it was true. Jack had 
 organic disease of the heart. In the year or two I spent in the 
 hospitals I gave my special attention to this class of diseases, the 
 more because there are other ailments that simulate the symptoms. 
 But there are certain infallible signs, and Jack exhibited them. I 
 stated his peculiar symptoms to Doctor Holly, who pronounced 
 them fatal without hesitation. Knowing this I have been some 
 what prepared for the shock of his sudden death, and should now 
 be comparatively calm in the midst of my sorrow were it not for 
 an awful conflict of thoughts, purposes, memories and regrets that 
 overwhelms me, and which is as appalling as indescribable. If I 
 live a few years I hope to unfold them all to you, but now my 
 only refuge from madness is the salt spray of old ocean. 
 
 " I have mentioned the fact of Jack's disease for two purposes. 
 First, he has been in the jaws of death from his boyhood, and you 
 and I have always been on the verge of the present distress. The 
 circumstances might have been infinitely worse. Suppose he had
 
 A LETTER. 133 
 
 died before I met him ? Suppose the excitement of his late 
 engagements with DeVere and Callahan had been too much for 
 him, and he had died in the midst of ecarte ! Second, it is very 
 probable that he died and then fell from his horse. You tell me 
 there was no scar or bruise upon him. I believe this must have 
 been the case, for he was a thorough horseman, and was certainly 
 not thrown. I have seen him in a cavalry charge shake his feet 
 clear of the stirrups and stick to his horse as if he were part of 
 him, while the mad brute was dashing frantically over a field 
 flashing with a thousand sabres. He could not have been thrown. 
 It is true that Saladin may have fallen with him, but there would 
 have been some bruise or scar to betoken it if he had. It is possible 
 that Saladin may have fallen in his frightened gallop to the Hall. 
 There is a wide ditch between the stables and the Dark Wood, 
 I remember, and this may account for the earth stains on his 
 saddle. 
 
 " Make such use of these suggestions, in your talks with Lady 
 Lacy, as your own excellent sense will indicate to be best. 
 
 " I must say a word about Butler, and I desire to write with 
 great caution here, because I have nothing but my instinct to 
 plead as a reason for my profound distrust of the fellow. I know 
 absolutely nothing of his previous history. You heard Kitty tell 
 of her earlier acquaintance, and she told very little. And now 
 hear and heed ! By some sort of intuition I seem to know that this 
 man's life has been marred. There is some hideous episode in his 
 history that will stain it evermore. He is silent, watchful, sus 
 picious, resolute, passionate. Once and again I have been im 
 pressed with the conviction that he is of gentle breeding. At sea 
 I have watched him in perilous circumstances, and he has always 
 been prompt, cool and efficient. If I were engaged in a desperate 
 venture, where pluck, endurance and cool ferocity would win, I 
 should feel safe with Butler at iny side. I would not hesitate to 
 entrust uncounted money to his honesty, and if he were my 
 enemy I should dread no blow in the dark. He is not that sort 
 of a man. Yet I should feel assured that a conflict was inevita 
 ble, and that it would be a Voutrance when it came. Sometimes, 
 and indeed most times, I find that I rather pity than dislike him, 
 yet I always recoil from him and the thought of him with inex 
 plicable horror. There must be some reason for this! Watch 
 him, Johnny, for Kitty's sake. Do him no injustice because of 
 my vague distrust, and, on the other hand, suffer him to do no
 
 134 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 wrong by disregarding my warning. He has plenty of money. 
 When he came aboard he was from the gold diggings, and he 
 had been very successful. The captain told me that Butler had 
 given a large bag of gold dust into his charge when he joined the 
 ship. 
 
 "Another word about Kitty. She is handsome and good, I 
 believe. But this new-comer must be an accepted lover. I saw 
 him with his arm around her waist while she rested her head on 
 his breast. She is not the sort of woman to assume such a posi 
 tion unless matters were pretty well settled betwixt them. She 
 is wonderfully self-reliant, and will baffle you if you are not cau 
 tious and persistent. But don't let that fellow get her until you 
 know more about him. 
 
 "And now, my dear Harwood, I have purposely left to the last my 
 answer to your remark anent our last conversation. I have thought 
 two or three times since I began this letter that I would leave 
 that portion of yours unanswered. And then I thought I would 
 content myself with general reflections, without noticing the argu- 
 mentum ad Jiominem. But this would be disingenuous, so away 
 with it ! I will endeavour to give you my exact thoughts, albeit 
 they are beclouded and somewhat erratic. 
 
 " First, then, I hold to my original proposition. Man must 
 needs pray always. When he does not he contradicts a primal 
 attribute of his nature. Second, this being normal, and eustamped 
 by the Creator, it is one of Nature's forces, as potent and as real 
 as centripetal attraction. There may be other and counteracting 
 forces, but these must needs be abnormal, and the consequences 
 of the fall, and, therefore, transient. You know the late discus 
 sion touching the viscous flow of the mer de glace in the frozen 
 north. It is well established that the ice Held continuously moves 
 toward the sea, and is constantly giving off the icebergs, and 
 constantly being renewed from Nature's grand laboratory in those 
 stern solitudes. My friend, the operation of this invisible force 
 illustrates the operation of the prayer power. It belongs to the 
 relation subsisting betwixt Creator and intelligent creature. Now, 
 advancing a step, consider how the higher relation of father and 
 child augments the strength of the argument and the vehemence 
 of the force ! One step more brings you to the relations growing 
 out of the covenant, ordered and sure! And thus you are shut up 
 under the inexorable logic of the case. The symmetry of the 
 scheme of Kedemption would be impaired under the contrary hy- 

 
 A LETTER. 135 
 
 pothesis. No logical argument can be constructed against this 
 statement that may not be answered by an appeal to the lapsed 
 condition of the race. By the ordinance of the Creator, man is as 
 really a praying animal as he is a breathing animal. 
 
 " Leaving this inductive process, take still higher ground, and 
 heed the testimony of Kevelation. There you will find the 
 facts stated in the simplest form, and without limitations. l Ask, 
 and ye shall receive, for every one that asketh receiveth.' You ' 
 know the force of the original word. It is ' because ' this is the 
 law of heaven's jurisprudence that the asker receives, the seeker 
 finds. 
 
 " I am now prepared to meet your terrible question touching 
 the disastrous failure of my prayers in Jack's case. I did not fail, 
 Parson, even in the details ! I prayed for success in my projected 
 efforts for Jack's deliverance and restoration, and I got the an 
 swer. My poor boy was saved, and his heart was quieted and 
 happy when we parted. His future looked unclouded to him, 
 and I believe he passed away in the sunlight. It is we who are 
 left that mourn. 
 
 " And here I would stop if I dared, but I dare not. It is here that 
 my thoughts are in chaos ! I cannot bring order out of the con 
 fusion, but it will come anon. You hint that a mysterious Provi 
 dence has suddenly reversed my prayers, and given me mourning 
 for joy the spirit of heaviness for the garment of praise. Dear 
 friend, it is not so. Personally, I am enveloped in clouds and 
 darkness, for I am sorely smitten ; but behold ! through rifts in the 
 dark cloud I do constantly see the deep, blue vault of heaven, 
 blazing with myriad stars, and by their light I discern days and 
 years of happiness and peace for nie, Lacy Barston, that would 
 have come to me never save through the portals of this dread 
 calamity ! It is not possible for me to write coherently here, and 
 you must wait until we meet. Meantime, remember me, and re 
 ciprocate the affection of 
 
 " Your friend, 
 
 " LACY BARSTON. 
 
 " To the Rev. JOHN HARWOOD, A. M. % 
 Lavington, Devon."
 
 136 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 ANOTHER LETTEB. 
 
 LAVINGTON, 5th September, 18 . 
 
 " ~\/T Y I)EAE FAT HER: I left mother and Allen witli Eet 
 J3.JL this morning, when I came away from the Hall, and I 
 rejoice to tell you that she is quite well and composed. It has 
 been a terrible shock, and I marvel that it did not kill her, in her 
 weak condition. The dear little baby has proved a messenger of 
 peace, and she seems to have grown into all the crevices of her 
 mother's heart. We have missed you more than I can tell you, 
 and we all look forward to the end of the week with joyful antici 
 pation. Nobody can fill the vacuum your absence makes, Father. 
 " The funeral of your poor old gamekeeper brought me to the 
 village to-day. I have been to see him every day since he was 
 hurt, and am charged with many grateful messages from him to 
 you. The last time I saw him alive he said, ' Please your 'rever 
 ence, Master Johnny, ask my lord if he won't give my place to yon 
 lad, Butler, when I am gone.' He then told me all the incidents 
 of his fight with the poachers, which I will recount to you. 
 
 " It occurred on the same night that Jack was killed. Old 
 Blake was in the wood near the Lacy lands, watching for the 
 rascals that have been stealing your pheasants. It was quite 
 early in the evening when they came three of them. It was 
 moonlight, and he recognized them and imprudently called out 
 their names. It was Groves and his two sous, and they are a 
 thoroughly bad lot. As they were three to one, they assaulted 
 him, and would probably have murdered him outright if Butler 
 had not suddenly appeared. One of the sons had a knife and 
 wounded Blake slightly and gave Butler an awful gash on the 
 forehead. It is cut into the bone and will disfigure him for life. 
 But notwithstanding this wound he caught up Blake's gun, shot 
 one of the boys in the legs and knocked the father down, and 
 then helped Blake secure the third. It was a plucky fight. You 
 know Blake was fatally hurt afterwards by the accidental dis 
 charge of his own gun after he reached his cottage. The doctor 
 bound up their wounds, but he says nothing can obliterate the 
 ugly scar just over Butler's eyes. Young Groves swore positively 
 that he did not inflict the wound, and Butler said he could not
 
 ANOTHER LETTER. 137 
 
 swear that he did. The three Groves are committed for trial, how 
 ever, and will be transported. 
 
 " I hardly know what to say, my dear Father, about old Blake's 
 suggestion. I have delivered his message to you, but you will 
 expect me to say something about this new candidate. Indeed, 
 he may hardly be called a candidate, as he has said nothing about 
 the matter to me. He is a stranger, resolutely silent about his 
 past, though he is a native of Devonshire. The only person who 
 knows him here is Kitty Willis, and she decidedly declines giving 
 any information on the subject. Barstou told me that he joined 
 his ship, the Orion, at Port Philip, presenting no credentials, but 
 showing marked ability as a seaman, and Captain Hardy gave 
 him some official position, whose duties he performed faithfully 
 and well. Swiss does not like him. He says he has coine through 
 a bad experience of some sort. You will understand, and Swiss 
 particularly reminds me, that he knows nothing against the man, 
 but says he " recoils from him instinctively." I ought to say here 
 that Barston is a gentleman of such pure nobility of soul, and of 
 such delicate sensibility, that his instincts are almost sure to be 
 just. I wish you knew my dear friend as intimately as I know 
 him. But he may be in error in this case. I think there is a 
 promise of marriage betwixt Butler and Kitty Willis, and this is 
 in his favour, as she is a young woman of good sense, and would 
 not be likely to make an ill choice. Perhaps, if you should decide 
 to make him your gamekeeper, he might marry Kitty and live in 
 Blake's cottage. Dr. Holly says his wound is not dangerous, 
 though he escaped death by the breadth of a hair. The cut looks 
 as if it had been inflicted by a tomahawk. 
 
 " Dr. Holly also says, rather positively, that Sir John Lacy died 
 of heart disease, and that a post-mortem examination would prove 
 it. His theory is that Jack fell dead from his horse. Barston 
 wrote me the same thing just before he sailed last week on his 
 mad cruise, which is very curious, as they certainly had not com 
 pared notes. You know Barston studied medicine before he went 
 into the law. 
 
 " About the matter of DeVere and Oallahan. To think that I 
 have been concealing from you, O wise Father, all that I feared 
 about Jack's intercourse with those fellows, and that you knew all 
 the time ! Well, sir, I went to DeVere's to-day and saw both him 
 and Callahan. They were very polite and sympathizing. As soon 
 as I could, I asked about the state of Sir John Lacy's indebted-
 
 138 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 ness to them, aiid they both, with great show of indignation, said 
 they held no obligations of his. I endeavoured to question them, 
 but was put off with polite lies. I infer that Swiss paid those 
 I. O. U's. If you put the question to Parchment but you cannot 
 do that, of course. 
 
 " Dear Father, I wish you would please disinherit me. I do not 
 know exactly what forms are necessary, but I very earnestly de 
 sire to vacate my inheritance in favour of Herbert. I do not want 
 to be Lord Morton. I don't like parsons to have titles anyhow, 
 and I mean to be a Lord Bishop when low churchisin gets into the 
 majority. This matter has been on my mind for several years, 
 but I have never spoken to you about it, because I could not bear 
 to think or speak of the possibility of outliving you. And now, 
 having said so much, I will stop. 
 
 " My best and kindest friend, I have another word to say. Since 
 Bet's calamity I have seen a great deal of Miss Tarn worth, and 
 have discovered that I could love her if you would allow me. I 
 have for some years admired her more than any other woman in 
 the world except Lady Morton; but I thought Swiss loved her, and 
 have therefore repressed my own desires for his sake. Dear 
 Swiss ! But it has suddenly occurred to me that I was mistaken, 
 and in the midst of much confusion of thought and many doubts, 
 I find my blood coursing through my veins with accelerated rapid 
 ity whenever I think of Clare. If you tell me I may have her, 
 there will be nothing to do but get her to have me. I will not 
 think about her that is, I will endeavour to keep my thoughts in 
 subjection until I get your kind permission. This is my highest 
 idea of filial obedience. 
 
 " There has been a great deal of a mild sort of flirting betwixt 
 Miss Tain worth and me. It may be that she is merely keeping 
 her hand in with me, as no other eligible is at hand just now. She 
 certainly flirted desperately with Bars ton, but he is so cold-blooded 
 a fellow that I could not get jealous. Perhaps her intent was to 
 provoke me to jealousy. I am so utterly ignorant of feminine wiles 
 that I cannot decide the point. But in serious matters, such as 
 mission work among my poor parishioners, she exhibits so much 
 zeal and such remarkable sense that I am constrained to admire 
 her on that account. She would make a most capital parsoness. 
 
 " This reminds me that I want a school house, father. I do not 
 expect to make a very heavy draft upon you. I have a good lot 
 of money of my own. But this Methodist chap I beg his par-
 
 ANOTHER LETTER. 139 
 
 don, he is a Presbyterian of the free church, I believe I mean the 
 Reverend Mr. Macdower is getting up a regular mission school. 
 If you don't build me a school house he will get ahead of me, and 
 by securing the children, will make the next generation in Laving- 
 ton dissenters ! He is one of the best fellows in the world, and we 
 are excellent friends on the sly. He had the impudence to ask 
 my aid in establishing his school, and I have partly agreed to join 
 him in the enterprise, and to furnish some of the teachers from my 
 flock ! The school could thus be non-sectarian, and as you are not 
 troubled by any allegiance to the prayer book, you can contribute 
 with a clear conscience. As for my money, I cannot decide how 
 much I can spare for dissenters until I know how my matrimonial 
 schemes will turn out. The locality we have in view is rather 
 south of Laviugton than in the village proper, and the pupils we 
 expect are the children who work in the mills. There are two or 
 . three hundred of them, and they belong to nobody but the devil 
 and Macdower, and I propose to enter the lists against him. He 
 has a dozen godly men and women who are eager to begin this 
 mission work, and I can probably gather as many more. Miss 
 Tamworth specially favours the scheme, and will prove a most 
 efficient worker. Two or three hundred pounds will build the 
 house, and Lord Morton owns the land we have selected. 
 
 " Before I close, dear father, I would just mention the fact that 
 your supply of Cabanas at the Priory is nearly exhausted. There 
 were only two boxes left the last time I was there, and there is 
 only one now that is a box of Colorados. The other one was 
 dark. I suppose you will be better satisfied to have enough to 
 last until Christmas, and if you will send some, say a thousand, 
 to me, I will send them (or part of them) to the Priory. It will 
 perhaps be more convenient to keep a few at the parsonage, and 
 I would suggest one box of Colorados and five boxes of Oscuros. 
 You had twenty-two boxes of dark cigars at Harwood House last 
 May ; 1 counted them. I mean twenty-two after I left. Allen is 
 a great rascal, and may have 'conveyed' some of them since. 
 " Your loving and dutiful sou, 
 
 "JOHN HAEWOOD. 
 " To LOKD MORTON, 
 
 " London."
 
 140 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXIV. 
 
 NELLIE. 
 
 ME. BAESTCXN" returned in safety from his Antarctic explo 
 rations. He claimed the discovery of an entire continent. 
 He called it " Spencerland," in honour of the commander of the 
 expedition, who was too intent upon his scientific investigations 
 to care for honours. He and Barston constructed a set of isother 
 mal charts, an extensive map of certain inaccessible coasts, which 
 were closely beset with ice floes eleven mouths and twenty-nine 
 days in each year, and brought back to England valuable speci 
 mens, geological and vegetable the former being small chips from 
 the aforesaid coast and the latter consisting of lichens and minute 
 slips of the saxifrage genus. They also presented to the Eoyal 
 Geographical Society, of which Mr. Spencer was a member, elabo 
 rate treatises upon sea currents, tides and ice drifts; and these 
 papers were duly read, and discussed, and printed, and filed away 
 in the archives of that venerable society. It is probable that one 
 man in every million of her Majesty's subjects read every word of 
 this highly entertaining and instructive literature. There were 
 many adventures, some hair-breadth escapes from ice nips, months 
 of heroic endurance while " frozen in," all of which might furnish 
 material for a romance, but which do not concern the present 
 veracious history. Mr. Spencer, by way of a change, then sailed for 
 the West Indian Archipelago with the especial object of investi 
 gating hurricanes, cyclones and other meteorological phenomena 
 of that turbulent region. As neither he nor his vessel has been 
 heard from since, it is probable that he is not yet ready to report 
 progress. Mr. Barstou did not accompany him on this expedi 
 tion, and as the reader is more interested in him than in Mr. Spen 
 cer, the latter will, with this brief notice, pass out of the present 
 narrative. 
 
 But the gentle reader has not yet done with Mr. SwUs. He 
 spent several weeks in London, editing the aforementioned scien 
 tific papers. Then he went to Lavington. It was in the early 
 spring, and Lord Morton was in London. Lady Lacy was at the 
 Eed Hall, and Swiss, who had not seen her for nearly four years, 
 was full of eager curiosity, and was also conscious of some trepi 
 dation as the swift train approached the pretty village. The
 
 NELLIE. 141 
 
 reader has already discovered that his whole life was bound up in 
 hers, and that all his capacity for loving was employed in loving 
 her. The rector was also in London, but Mr. Barston went directly 
 to his old quarters in his friend's house. It was rather lonely, but 
 Swiss was a philosopher. The morning after his arrival he went 
 out on an exploring expedition, first to Kitty Willis's house, but 
 she was not at home. "She had gone to the Eed Hall in Lady 
 Lacy's carriage," the old woman informed him. Then he mounted 
 Eoland and rode to the Eipple Farm. 
 
 Tommy, Widow Dawson's son and heir, was waiting in the lane. 
 The gash across his countenance was still unhealed, and the 
 white teeth, which should have been sunburnt from constant 
 exposure, still glistened within the gaping chasm. 
 
 " Glad to see you back, Master Lacy," said the boy. " Mother 
 heard you were in Lunnon, and we've been expecting you every 
 day." 
 
 " I am glad to see you, Tommy," answered Barston, shaking 
 his hand. " How is your mother P 
 
 " Main well, sir. Must I give Eoland a bite T 
 
 " Yes, and I will get a bite too, I hope. I am going to lunch 
 on bread and milk." 
 
 " Better nor that, sir !" replied Tommy, with a grin that threw 
 the upper half of his head into a right angle with the lower jaw. 
 
 " My dear dame," said Swiss, as lie entered the cottage, 
 "Tommy has raised my expectations! Are curds possible in 
 April f ' 
 
 " Curds are possible at Eipple whenever you come, Master 
 Lacy," said the widow. " Lawks ! I can make 'em at Christmas ! 
 August is the nat'ral mouth for 'em, but I can make August 
 weather by the kitchen fire. Will you have it now, sir f 
 
 " When I come back, please. I am going to the beach for a 
 sea dip. Do you know that I have been breaking the ice nearly 
 every day for two years to get my salt water bath I I have been 
 to a country where August is midwinter, and where midsummer 
 does not melt the ice. Towels ? thank you. Within the hour I 
 shall be ready for the curd." 
 
 " I wish you would go round by the road, Master Lacy. Some 
 day you'll break your precious neck among the rocks." 
 
 " Never fear, dame. I am very cautious. Don't tell anybody 
 that I scramble among the rocks. That which is easy for ine 
 would be perilous for Tommy ."
 
 142 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 When Mr. Barston returned from the beach the luncheon was 
 ready. He always insisted upon his seat at the kitchen table, 
 though Mrs. Dawson had a "best room," which was regularly 
 aired and dusted but never occupied. 
 
 " Mrs. Dawson," said Mr. Barston, "I thought of going to the 
 West Indies the other day, and one thing I had decided to do was 
 to buy a cask of Porto Eico sugar. I have an idea that I could 
 select the best on the island. Out of this cask a barrel belongs 
 to you." 
 
 " Thank'ee, Master Lacy. Does sugar grow there F 
 
 " Yes, also cyclones. My friend, Mr. Spencer, has sailed in 
 search of the latter." 
 
 " Are they good to eat F 
 
 " No, they are an unwholesome sort of diet, I fancy. I have 
 heard nothing about Oakland and nothing about Lavington. Can 
 you give me any gossip F 
 
 " No, sir. William was here yesterday. My lady has engaged 
 a nurse for Miss Ellen. Did you know the little baby was named 
 Ellen Barston F 
 
 " No, indeed," said Swiss, startled. 
 
 " Yes, sir. She is named for your baby sister. Sir John had 
 so named her, though she was not christened when he died." 
 
 " Who is the nurse, Mrs. Dawson F 
 
 Kitty Willis." 
 
 " Ah ! How did it happen F 
 
 " William says Lord Morton and the rector recommended her 
 very highly. Master Lacy, I have found out something." 
 
 " Indeed ! What is it, dame F 
 
 " Do you remember when old Dobbin was killed ? Well, sir, 
 William says you bought the new horse and not Sir John." 
 
 " Pooh, dame, it was all the same. What does William know 
 about it F 
 
 " Sir John told him," answered Mrs. Dawson, severely. " You 
 sent Hawder's boy with the horse " 
 
 " And the jackass told Jack, and Jack told William. What a 
 coil about nothing !" replied Swiss. " Tell me some more recent 
 gossip." 
 
 " Don't know any more, sir. Lord Morton's gamekeeper " 
 
 " Old Blake F 
 " No, sir. Young Butler." 
 
 " By the three kings !" said Barston, starting up, " things are 
 growing complicated ! What were you about to say, dame F
 
 NELLIE. 143 
 
 " Nothing, sir only Butler is an ugly brute ! William can't 
 abear him. Kitty is a pretty, decent girl, and ought to have a 
 better spark than that drunken rascal." 
 
 " Softly, dame. Butler is rather handsome. Indeed, if he 
 were dressed in modern costume he would pass for a thorough 
 bred. As for his drunkenness, that must be a mistake. I was 
 two months and more aboard ship with him and he never touched 
 rum." 
 
 " Well, sir, he touches it now. I don't want to harm him if he 
 would let that gal alone. He goes to the village every other night 
 to court her, and now that she is at the Eed Hall he wilt go there. 
 It is more convenient for him. He lives in Blake's cottage, which 
 is near the Hall, you know." 
 
 " Tommy, bring Eoland," said Mr. Barston. " I think I will 
 ride round by the Priory road and call on Mr. Butler. Dame, the 
 curd was faultless. May I light my cigar here ?" 
 
 " Lawks ! Master Lacy." 
 
 "That means yes. Puff, puff. Good bye, dame. Tommy, you 
 expect a shilling ?" 
 
 " No, sir !" answered Tommy, mendaciously. 
 
 " Well, shut your jaws ! Here is half a crown. Ho ! Roland !" 
 And mounting the restless horse he held him quiet with an iron 
 hand. u Dame," he said, " perhaps it would be better to keep all 
 that gossip for my ears alone for the present. There is some 
 mystery about these people. Let us not excite their suspicions. 
 I am going to unravel the mystery this time, by the three kings ! 
 Away, Eoland !" and with a snort and a mighty bound Eolaud 
 darted from the door, while Tommy looked on with admiring eyes. 
 Then, as the horseman disappeared behind a little clump of trees, 
 the boy turned his gaze upon the bright coin in his hand, while 
 the upper half of his cranium lifted itself two or three inches. 
 
 "'Ere's the 'arfcrown, mother," he said, regretfully 5 "he allers 
 says a shillin', and allers gives me.'arf a crown or a florin. iHit it 
 in the stockiu'. Now he's come they'll chink in faster. By Christ 
 mas I'll have a small fortin !" How prone is humanity to forecast 
 the future ! 
 
 As Eoland turned into the high road, Barston saw a landau 
 that had passed the mouth of the lane a few minutes earlier, now 
 half a mile away. Peeping above the top, which was thrown 
 back, he saw the flutter of ribbons in the jaunty hat of the occu 
 pant. Then as he drew nearer he recognized the horses and then
 
 144 TEE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 the livery on the broad shoulders of Lady Lacy's coachman, Wil 
 liam. With beating heart he shook his bridle, turning his heel to 
 Eoland's flank, and in a moment he was beside the carriage, peer 
 ing anxiously in the face of Kitty Willis. William checked his 
 horses. 
 
 " Hooray !" he shouted. ttf Welcome home, Master Lacy !" 
 
 "Thank yon, William. How is my lady ? Well! And this is 
 Kitty Willis and Nellie Lacy, by the three kings! Stand, 
 Eoland !" And leaning forward he held out his arms to the child, 
 while a tempest of emotions swept over his face. 
 
 The child gazed into his gentle eyes with steady scrutiny for a 
 moment, and then holding up her little hands was caught to his 
 breast, while her rosy face was hidden, in his flowing beard. 
 
 "My darling! my darling!" muttered the strong man as he 
 drew his horse apart. " Ket's baby ! Jack's baby I Oh, Merci 
 ful ! My baby evermore !" And scarcely conscious of his own 
 thoughts or purposes he spurred Eoland again, and galloped 
 away with the child clinging to his neck, crowing with delight. 
 
 Perhaps the story thus far told has been so clumsily related 
 that the gentle reader has failed to see through Lacy Barston's 
 soul-windows, and therefore cannot account for many of his acts 
 and speeches. To the author he looms up in grand proportions, 
 and the steadfast nobleness of his character shows through all his 
 whimsicalities. Naturally impulsive and passionate, his life has 
 been one long practice of self-denial and self-restraint. In his 
 early youth his dying father, recognizing the inherent force of" his 
 character, had charged him. to watch over his kinsman, John 
 Lacy, through life r and this burden, which was a solemn obliga 
 tion in young Barston's mind, had doubtless coloured his entire 
 life. And now that death had relieved him from this charge, he 
 had comfort in remembering that he had never uttered one unkind 
 word, though frequently sorely tried by his restless ward. Some 
 how he had come to regard Sir John as the representative of his 
 own father and mother, and therefore entitled to whatever he 
 might claim of him. Otherwise he would never have relinquished 
 the only woman who had ever attracted him. And God had been 
 good to him. in tempering the quaint relations he sustained to his 
 cousin with a brother's love, making endurance and forbearance 
 easy duties. He had seemed to step into his father's office, and 
 Jack being gone, the great unselfish love he had cherished for him 
 was now suddenly transferred to the infant nestling in his bosom.
 
 THE GAMEKEEPER. 145 
 
 " Do you know me, baby ?" he said at last, pulling up his horse. 
 
 "No. What name?" 
 
 " Cousin Lacy. Can you say ' Cousin Lacy,' Nellie f 
 
 " Tousin Lacy. I love Tousin Lacy !" and she parted his beard 
 with dimpled fingers and kissed him. 
 
 And so the child passed into the core of his heart, taking her 
 place there with all due authority, and reigning with despotic 
 sway while its pulsations continue. She is there to-day, exacting, 
 wilful and loving. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 THE GAMEKEEPER. 
 
 WHEN Barston relinquished Nellie to her new nurse he 
 turned from the high road, and passing through a grassy 
 lane entered the broad domain of Morton Priory. Half a mile 
 from the highway was situated the gamekeeper's cottage. He 
 had no definite plan beyond seeing the gamekeeper, and deciding 
 for himself as to Butler's character and habits. The memory of 
 old Willis and of the wistful expression of his face, when he 
 entreated him to watch over his daughter, was the most promi 
 nent impression upon his mind. He endeavoured to analyze his 
 feeling of repugnance, which was always uppermost when he 
 thought of Butler, but he could not make up a reasonable case. 
 The reports he had heard from Mrs. Dawson he took cum grano 
 sails, making allowance for prejudice and for possible jealousy on 
 William's part. Kitty was attractive enough, and, in Barston's 
 judgment, far too good for any man in a subordinate position ; as 
 for allowing her to throw herself away upon a drunkard, that was 
 not to be thought of. There was also an unaccountable suspicion 
 in his mind that Kitty was hardly good enough for Butler, whose 
 rough manners had always seemed to Barston to be assumed for 
 a purpose. While he was still busy with these reflections, he 
 reached the stile leading to the cottage, and seated upon it he 
 saw his quondam shipmate watching him composedly as he 
 approached. 
 
 He wore a gray shooting jacket and trousers, his nether limbs 
 being covered with long leathern gaiters buttoning above the knee. 
 A felt hat, cocked up over his brow, half concealed his eyes. 
 
 10
 
 146 THE LAGT DIAMONDS. 
 
 As lie straightened himself with indolent grace, there was in his 
 manner a consciousness that he was on his own premises, and 
 there was nothing servile in his salute when Mr. Barston checked 
 his horse at the stile. Two things shot through the mind of the 
 visitor. First : that Mr. Butler was vastly improved in appear 
 ance j second, that he was on guard. 
 
 " I heard that you were here,'' said Barston, with direct honesty, 
 " and I rode in to see you." 
 
 " How can I serve you, sir P replied Butler, quietly. 
 
 " By telling me the truth. You need not look insulted " 
 
 " I am not in the habit of lying, Mr. Barston." 
 
 " I did not mean to imply that you were. I should like to ask 
 you a few questions, if you do not object." 
 
 " Proceed, sir," said Butler, reseating himself upon the stile. 
 
 " I scarcely know how, by the three kings !" returned Barston ; 
 " but the truth is always safe. I have heard nay, I have seen, 
 that there is such an understanding betwixt you and Kitty Willis 
 as should only exist betwixt those who intend marriage." 
 
 "Well, sir?" 
 
 "I have reasons for what I say about this matter. When her 
 father died he requested me to protect his child from harm. On 
 that account alone I have sought you to-day." 
 
 " You mean that my courtship may harm her P 
 
 " Possibly. Or rather, that your marriage with her might harm 
 her. 1 do not know. Hang it, man !" he continued, with a little 
 outburst of temper, " why are you so infernally glum and myste 
 rious ? If you are an honest man, a sober man, and the girl likes 
 you, it would be a great pleasure to me to aid rather than hinder 
 you. Who are you P 
 
 "Lord Morton's gamekeeper," said the other, "passably honest, 
 perhaps. Passably sober sometimes " 
 
 " W 7 ho were you ? There is the true difficulty I You come upon 
 us here a waif from the ocean. For aught I know to the contrary 
 you may have been a pirate. Why the deuce can't you en 
 lighten me enough to quiet my conscience ? Look you ! We have 
 been together in peril, and if there were not some horrible reason 
 for your reticence, there would have been confidence betwixt us. 
 What black spot is in your past that you should be constantly on 
 the watch against friend and foe P 
 
 Butler rose slowly, and throwing his leg over the stile slid dowi) 
 into the lane.
 
 THE GAMEKEEPER. 147 
 
 "Waif, drunkard, possible thief, possible pirate !" he said, count 
 ing the epithets off on his fingers. " Hadn't you better add * possi 
 ble murderer,' and so complete the catalogue ?" arid he dashed his 
 hat upon the grass and faced his persecutor with pallid counte 
 nance, on which there was no sign of fear. Then Barston saw on 
 his forehead a long purple seam, an inch above his eyes, the more 
 noticeable because of the ashy hue of the rest of his face. Barston 
 threw his bridle on Roland's neck and dismounting drew near his 
 interlocutor, his soul filled with tender pity. 
 
 " I have wounded you sorely," he said gently, " and I am very 
 sorry. Let me atone for my fault by befriending you. If you are 
 crushed under some hideous memory for so my instinct teaches 
 me I pray you let me comfort you. God is more merciful than 
 we think Him. Do you not remember that He allowed me to avert 
 an impending death once " 
 
 "Ay !" answered Butler ; "and I also know that I owe Him no 
 thanks for that ! The peace I have failed to find on earth might 
 have been mine a thousand fathoms dov/ii under the sea!" 
 
 "You shock me!" said Barston; "such dreadful words should 
 never issue from mortal lips. No calamity has befallen you that 
 is not common to man, and no calamity, is incurable while life 
 endures. Will you allow me to aid you ?" 
 
 "I require no man's aid," said the other; " if you really wish to 
 do me a kindness, let me alone. As for the young woman, it is 
 likely enough that she incurs less peril under my protection than 
 she would under charge of a gay young gentleman like you." 
 
 "You are not speaking your true sentiments," replied Barston, 
 with dignity. " The tokens you give of gentle breeding are un 
 mistakable. I implore you to confide in a man of your own ehiss, 
 and let me extricate you if I can from the past, and assure your 
 future. Mount my horse and ride to Oakland. I will get another 
 in the village and follow you." 
 
 " You accused me of drunkenness but now," said Butler, picking 
 up his hat and reseating himself upon the stile. " Most men would 
 say you were either drunk or mad to make such a proposition to 
 me." 
 
 " Perhaps. But you know that I am neither. Will 3-011 come f 
 
 "A thousand times no !" said Butler. " Is it not possible for you 
 to leave me to myself?" 
 
 " It is not possible," answered Barston, gravely. 
 
 " Well then," said Butler, with a defiant air, " let us understand
 
 148 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 each other. There can be no quarrel between us, first, because 
 you have saved my life; and second, because I am not insensible 
 of your kind intentions. I will say nothing about your conceit as 
 to my true condition. I know that you are a whimsical gentle 
 man, and you may take up some new conceit to-inorrow. But I 
 notify you that I will thwart you in every way, as I have oppor 
 tunity, unless you consent to walk apart from me. It may be 
 that I shall apply to you some day and remind you of your 
 generous offers. In the meantime be on your guard. I am on 
 mine." 
 
 "Pooh!" said Barston, "the contest is unequal. I have no 
 vulnerable spots. I cannot walk apart from you if I would. My 
 home is here, and this girl's welfare was put under my charge. I 
 cannot relinquish it until I know more of you. If you will at 
 least quit drink ." 
 
 " I cannot. One must sleep sometimes." 
 
 " Bum is a poor soporific. You have taken to it since we met 
 on shipboard." 
 
 " Yes," said Butler, wincing a little. 
 
 " And you have got a new mark since we parted. Doubtless it 
 also is due to rum?" 
 
 " What a devil you carry in your tongue, Mr. Barston," said 
 Butler, with a ghastly attempt at a smile. " You are very 
 thoughtful of Kitty's welfare. Heaven pity the unfortunate 
 woman you may chance to marry !" 
 
 Barston mounted his horse. He had thrown away his cigar 
 when he met Nellie, and he proceeded to light another while he 
 pondered the last speech of the gamekeeper. 
 
 " That strikes me as a very sensible observation, Mr. Butler," 
 he said at last. " The truth is, matrimony is a very risky business 
 on the part of women. Men who are not brutes are very apt to 
 be fools, and I really do not know more than half a dozen amongst 
 my acquaintances who are fit to assume so grave a trust. We 
 shall meet again, and I hope you will be in a better mood. It 
 occurs to me now, as we are about to part, to ask you if you have 
 none bound to you by ties of blood who might suffer in seeing 
 you degraded no mother, no father " 
 
 " I am alone in the world," said Butler, turning his back upon 
 him as he crossed the stile. " My mother died before I was old 
 enough to know her, and all I remember of my father is a scowling 
 face and bitter tongue. My chief solace now is in cursing his 
 memory !"
 
 SWISS IN TROUBLE. 149 
 
 Barston watched his retreating form until it disappeared in, the 
 cottage door, and then rode soberly down the lane. 
 
 " The fates have dealt hardly with him," he thought, " and I 
 suppose the mournful tones of his voice awaken my sympathy. 
 It is the most inscrutable mystery altogether. I am not sure that 
 I came off victor iu yonder encounter of wits. The fellow is 
 plucky as a dog ! He got that crack on the crown in some devil's 
 business or he would not have winced so when I referred to it. 
 He boldly challenges me to the contest, and I purpose to begin 
 my part by taking Kitty to Oakland. If I get her there he will 
 have to do his courting under difficulties. I will offer her the 
 place of housekeeper, at high wages, to-morrow." 
 
 Mr. Butler unlocked a cupboard, took out a bottle and a glass, 
 and seating himself near the window poured out half a tumbler 
 of brandy. As he sipped it he watched the horseman riding down 
 the lane. 
 
 " Mr. Barstou is a troublesome customer," he thought j "he has 
 inherited his mother's sharp wit and his father's invincible per 
 tinacity. What a handsome fellow he is ! It he were not so un 
 deniably thoroughbred I vow I should be jealous about Kitty ! 
 He will be apt to begin operations against me without delay, and 
 I must get the start of him somehow. I must ask Kitty. She 
 will know if he has any weak points. Something must be done 
 to get him out of the neighbourhood. Is there no way to get this 
 devil's brand from my face f and he ground his teeth in an agony 
 of rage. Then he emptied his glass, and taking a double barrelled 
 gun from the corner, he left the cottage, and crossing the meadow, 
 struck through the woods in the direction of the Bed i 1 all. 
 
 OHAPTEE XXVI. 
 
 Swiss IN TROUBLE. 
 
 IADY LACY'S carriage conveyed her, with Miss Tamworth, 
 -^ Nellie and her nurse, to Morton Priory the day after the 
 foregoing occurrences. There had been an amicable contest be 
 tween her and her parents ever since the death of Sir John, touch 
 ing her continued residence at the Red Hall. The elders were 
 more eager to have their daughter resume her old place in her
 
 150 TEE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 old home, because of the incumbrance in little Nellie, who was the 
 tyrannical mistress of both houses, but Ret had steadfastly de 
 clined " for the present," and had always cogent arguments to 
 present against the arrangement, drawn from the requirements of 
 the estate, which she was bound to administer in Nellie's in 
 terests. Another plea was furnished by Miss Tamworth's con 
 stant residence at the Red Hall as Lady Lacy's guest. She had 
 never left her since Nellie's birth, and the thought of separation 
 did not enter the mind of either. 
 
 The park was putting on its spring attire and was truly beau 
 tiful. The evergreens, standing in clumps near the house, had 
 gotten rid of the rust of winter, and the deciduous trees, with 
 their young, green leaves, were bursting into new life under the 
 delightful sun of Devon. The conservatory runs along the 
 southern side of the house, and on this bright morning the double 
 sashes were open and the wealth of fragrant bloom was within 
 reach of the lawn. Lady Lacy had never yielded her proprietor 
 ship of the conservatory, and half an hour after their arrival she 
 opened the glass door in the drawing-room communicating with 
 the conservatory and entered her ancient domain. She had taken 
 but a few steps when she was startled by the sound of voices. The 
 speakers were hidden by the dense foliage of two huge lemon 
 trees, and as she retreated she heard a sentence or two. 
 
 " You must come and live at Oakland, Kitty " 
 
 " Impossible, Mr. Barston." 
 
 " But you must. Everything depends upon it. Are you so mad 
 as to wreck your own happiness " 
 
 Lady Lacy passed back into the drawing-room and closed the 
 door, hearing no more of this interesting colloquy. Miss Tarn- 
 worth was at the piano, and Lady Morton standing near her. 
 While Ret was still stunned and trying to collect her thoughts, 
 the glass door opened behind her and Mr. Barston entered with 
 Nellie in his arms. Kitty, with flushed face, followed, and Ret 
 was lost in admiration of the cool effrontery of our friend Swiss, 
 who approached her with his hand extended. 
 
 " I rejoice to see you looking so well," he said, glancing at her 
 black dress. u My dear little Nellie met me on arrival and bade 
 me come in this way. I hope I have not startled you !" he added 
 anxiously, noticing her perplexed look. 
 
 " Yes you have, a little. How long have you been here ?" 
 
 " I arrived but uo\v. My lady, I feel that I am indeed at home
 
 SWISS IN TROUBLE. 151 
 
 once more when I receive your welcome. Ah ! Miss Tarn worth, 
 you look as charmingly innocent as if you had no broken hearts 
 to answer for. I have been in England but a few weeks and have 
 met half a dozen victims of your flirting powers already ! Nellie ! 
 have you not told your mamma that you met your cousin Lacy 
 yesterday $" 
 
 " Oh, yes," answered Miss Tamworth. " Nellie gave us glow 
 ing accounts of her ride yesterday. As you have made a conquest 
 there so expeditiously, I think you must have been learning some 
 flirting lessons among the Esquimaux damsels." 
 
 " I have not been among them," replied Barston, " and I have 
 not offered l delicate attentions ' to any lady since I saw you last. 
 The renown you have acquired as a heart-breaker has seemed 
 like a constant challenge to me, and so I come to prove your 
 prowess." 
 
 u Indeed, you have come in vain," said Clare, lightly. " I shall 
 not waste any efforts upon you. I happen to know that you are 
 sworn to celibacy." 
 
 " I?" said Swiss, in surprise; " you are greatly mistaken. For 
 thirty dreary months I have lived among rude men. No woman's 
 presence to humanize, no woman's voice to soothe. In the midst 
 of appalling horrors, day after day, when all the days were nights, 
 I have watched the gorgeous constellations of the Southern Pole, 
 and longed for the returning sun. The ice, spread around me in 
 almost limitless floes, or standing in cold splendour, huge bergs, 
 glittering in the moonlight, was not more desolate than my lot, 
 deprived of gentle woman's influence and sympathy. And in that 
 long imprisonment there was no waking hour when the ladies, in 
 whose presence I stand to-day, were not present in rny thoughts. 
 And I think I may truthfully add, there was no hour of sleep 
 when they failed to gild my dreams." 
 
 " If it were not for the air of earnestness you put on," said Miss 
 Tamworth, " I would compliment you on that pretty speech. Still 
 I am sure you have professed to be proof against feminine wiles. 
 The rector has quoted you " 
 
 " Ah !" said Barston, " Parson Johnny has misunderstood me, 
 
 J perhaps. He has not been wretch enough to accuse me of " 
 
 " Nothing worse than confirmed bachelorhood. But that freez 
 ing account you have just given of your late surroundings has 
 awakened all my curiosity. I shall require a full chronicle of 
 your adventures."
 
 152 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 " Mr. Barston has kindly come to entertain us to-day," said 
 Lady Morton. " John and his father will be here to dinner." 
 
 " Yes," answered Barston, " I left them at the Eectory. Parson 
 Johnny will drive out here to luncheon. Lord Morton and he 
 arrived in the early train, and I had the pleasure of taking break 
 fast with them. I was too impatient to wait for them. Nellie, 
 I will take you on Eoland's back again after luncheon ;" and he 
 gave the child to Kitty, who retired with her through the conser 
 vatory. 
 
 Lord Morton and the rector arrived shortly after and were re 
 ceived with great empressement by the ladies. Sundry parcels, 
 brought down from London, containing articles of feminine adorn 
 ment, no doubt, attracted the ladies on the instant, and following 
 the servant who bore them to some interior chamber, these charm 
 ing women gloated over ducks of bonnets until luncheon was an 
 nounced, when they gloated over cold beef and salad. 
 
 a Do you return to the Eed Hall before dinner f said Mr. Bars- 
 ton, addressing Lady Lacy. 
 
 " Yes. The carriage is ordered at two o'clock. Nellie must be 
 at home before dark." 
 
 " May I take her, then, on Roland ? There are some law papers 
 which Mr. Parchment told me I ought to see. They are in the 
 safe " 
 
 " And Mrs. Frooine has the key. Certainly you may take 
 Nellie, if she will not encumber you." 
 
 " Then I will go at once, if my lady will excuse me." 
 
 " On condition that you return to dine and sleep," answered 
 Lady Morton. 
 
 " Your room has been waiting for you, Lacy," said Lord Morton, 
 " for years, and you have never occupied it." 
 
 " Many thanks ! I cannot accept, positively, until I see those 
 legal documents. It may be necessary for me to take them to 
 London at once ; but it will be a great disappointment to me if 
 it should so happen. Nellie, my darling, get your wraps !" 
 
 Miss Tamworth and the rector followed Barston, leaving Lord 
 and Lady Morton with Eet at the table. 
 
 " My dear," said Lord Morton, " I am greatly perplexed about 
 that boy and I require the aid of your sharper wit. Sit still, Eet ! 
 I want your judgment, also." 
 
 " Of whom are you speaking ?" said his wife. 
 
 " Of Lacy Barston. I had to wait an hour for John this morn-
 
 SWISS IN TROUBLE. 153 
 
 ing, as he had a vestrj meeting, and while he was absent, Butler, 
 the gamekeeper, called. It seems his visit was intended for the 
 Parson, but he said he greatly preferred telling his story to me. 
 He is courting your nurse, Bet." 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " Well, he is terribly jealous of Mr. Barston ! When he blurted 
 out this statement I was disposed to get in a passion, but some 
 thing real about the fellow's appearance kept me cool. He says 
 Barston is pursuing the girl constantly. Did she drive on the 
 Exeter road yesterday, Eet V 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " Butler says Barston waylaid her yesterday, and also that he 
 went to Lavington this morning specially to see her. Was she 
 there this morning ?" 
 
 Yes, sir." 
 
 " Then he saw her, no doubt. As John and I walked down 
 from the station we met him, and he said he had just seen your 
 carriage. I cannot tell what to think. I did not ask John, but 
 have been brooding over the matter all the morning. The girl is 
 the daughter of an actor, who died here a few years ago, and has 
 some smattering of education. But Barston could hardly think 
 seriously of marrying so far beneath his station ! There is no 
 accounting for infatuation, however. The whole story is compli 
 cated. Butler says Barston offered Kitty any wages she would 
 demand if she would quit your service and enter his ! It will re 
 quire something like an earthquake to shake my confidence in 
 Lacy Barston's integrity. But I am thoroughly annoyed and per 
 plexed. Enlighten me, wife !" 
 
 " Come, Eet 1" said Miss Tamworth from the door. " It is going 
 to rain. I ventured to order the carriage at once." 
 
 They rose from the table, and as Ket arrayed herself in bonnet 
 and wrappings her mother stood apart, meditating. Lord Morton 
 waited anxiously for her reply, which came at last. 
 
 " Ask John ! Tell him all about it. I feel certain that he will 
 be able to explain everything. Don't you think so, Bet ?" 
 
 " Alas! no. Good bye, Mother, Father !" and as they kissed her 
 they noticed the tears in her gentle eyes.
 
 154 TEE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 Swiss EXPLAINS. 
 
 AT the Eed Hall the Keep, which was the nucleus of the sys 
 tem of buildings that made up the residence, was a huge 
 square tower, rising two stories above its surroundings. The 
 ground floor was the dining room, and the next floor was Sir 
 Kanald's room. This had been somewhat modernized by Sir 
 John, and a stone portico added to the Keep, giving entrance to 
 the dining room and also to a stairway leading directly to the 
 library, as this ancient chamber was now called. This had 
 gradually grown to be the main entrance, and when Lady Lacy 
 arrived, just in advance of the shower, she ascended at once to the 
 library, where she found Mr. Barston seated at the table and por 
 ing over musty looking deeds and leases. He rose at her entrance 
 and placed a chair for her, and after some allusion to their good 
 fortune in escaping the rain, which was now falling, he resumed 
 his study of the papers while she sat quietly by. 
 
 " Cousin Bet," he said at last, " if you will allow me to claim 
 kindred, I find enough in these papers to make it necessary for 
 me to return to London. There is a flaw in your title that must 
 be mended." 
 
 " I do not understand you," she answered. 
 
 " It is easily remedied," said Barston, placing the deeds in his 
 pocket. " You will entrust me with the papers f 
 
 " Certainly. What is the nature of the flaw f 
 
 " The death of Elbert Lacy, of which there is no doubt, has 
 never been legally proven. The inheritance of the Lacy estate is 
 really in Nellie, in equity, and it could doubtless be established 
 by Chancery proceedings. I expect to arrange it less expen 
 sively." 
 
 " I am glad you have mentioned the matter, as I have wished 
 to consult you about it since for some time. Pray, whose inter 
 ests conflict with Nellie's ?" 
 
 "None. That is, without some slight rectification the lauds 
 might pass to to another, who has no sort of right to them. 
 My legal knowledge is so superficial that I wish to consult 
 Parchment." 
 
 " And who is that other ?" persisted Eet.
 
 SWISS EXPLAINS. 155 
 
 " Oh, no matter. You see there was a will three generations 
 back, and there has been no will since. Lord Morton would 
 probably know about it. My father was Jack's guardian;" ho 
 winced as he uttered the name, and his voice faltered a little, but 
 he went on, " and when he died he gave me some general direc 
 tions, which I have tried to follow ." 
 
 " I see I must speak plainly, Mr. Barston. You are the heir- 
 at-law " 
 
 " Not I P replied Swiss stoutly. " What an absurdity ! Who 
 has put such a wise notion into your head P 
 
 " No one. I have read all those papers and some others. Mr. 
 Barstou," she continued, earnestly, " I owe you a great deal of 
 mouey and I am going to pay it !" 
 
 " What astounding bosh you are talking !" said Swiss, rising 
 and approaching her. 
 
 " I am talking sound sense," she replied, firmly, " and you know 
 I am right. I owe you ten thousand pounds, which you paid to 
 Mr. Bottomry, and some more I don't know how much, but you 
 will tell 'me that you paid Mr. DeVcre, and I am not going to 
 allow you to deprive yourself of your legal rights to these lauds, 
 sir ! They are yours, under your grandfather's will, not Nellie's !" 
 
 "Now, by the three kings of Cologne!" said Barston, stamping 
 his foot, " see what comes of a woman's dabbling in law matters. 
 I was inaccurate just now when I said my knowledge was super 
 ficial. I know enough law to be certain that I have no rights 
 here." 
 
 " Very well, sir. Waiving that point for the present, will you 
 please explain about Mr. Bottomry and Mr. DeVere V 1 
 
 " Explain !" stammered Swiss. " Certainly that is there is 
 nothing to explain. Seriously, madame, you have no right to 
 make ducks and drakes of Nellie's inheritance." 
 
 " Did you pay any moneys to those gentlemen in behalf of my 
 husband f said Itet, with deliberation. 
 
 " Well, really, this is very irregular, and I may add very un 
 comfortable," said Barston. "I may have had some transactions 
 with the gentlemen you name, but I cannot be expected to re 
 member all the little details." 
 
 "Did you pay Mr. Bottomry ten thousand pounds?" 
 
 " Perhaps ; but it was not Nellie's money, and allow me to say 
 it was not yours, that Mr. Bottomry claimed. According to your 
 own wild inference it was my own. debt 1 paid, as Mr. Bottomry 
 held a lien upon the Lacy lands."
 
 156 THE LAGY DIAMONDS. 
 
 11 1 must pay that money, sir." 
 
 " Cousin Bet, listen to me a few moments," said he, with calm 
 desperation. " You are young and may marry again." 
 
 " Never ! never ! You are cruel to say so !" 
 
 " Ob, forgive me if I pain you. I would gladly die to shield 
 you from pain. And now I make all my explanations at once : 
 It was my right to pay Jack's debts, for I loved him. Judge how 
 I loved him when I yielded you to him ! You ! you whom I have 
 loved all my life ! Ah ! Eet, do not answer me, but listen. Let 
 ine spend my life in comforting yours !" 
 
 " Oh, how cruel !'' she broke in, passionately, as she rose from 
 her chair. " You who have baen so kind and good until to-day! 
 Who would have thought that you could wound me so deeply !" 
 
 " If loving you with every pulse of my heart " 
 
 " You insult me, sir !" she answered, her eyes flashing. " How 
 can you, who have been a noble gentleman hitherto, persecute me 
 thus shamefully F 
 
 Barston looked steadily at her beautiful face with an astonish 
 ment that would have been comical had it not been mixed with 
 dire distress. 
 
 " Will you please " 
 
 " There is nothing to explain which you do not already know, 
 sir," said Eet, moving to the door. " Oh, Mr. Barston, I should 
 be filled with indignation if I did not pity you !" and she swept 
 out of the room. In a moment she burst in again, and running 
 up to where he stood, stunned and silent, she said, " the memory 
 of your friend and kinsman should have sheltered me, sir, and 
 saved me from this pain, and you from such baseness !" He 
 looked stupidly at her, without reply, wondering if she had gone 
 mad. " A poor defenceless girl ! Oh, Mr. Barston ! I almost 
 hate you !" and she bounced out like a shot, and this time did not 
 return. 
 
 Eoland was standing under a ruined arch near the portico, 
 sheltered from the April down-pour. His master pulled his hat 
 over his brow, buttoned his coat, and while the parting words of 
 Lady Lacy were still ringing in his ears, he mounted and rode 
 away from the Eed Hall, never heeding the storm that swept over 
 the earth, so engrossed was he with the storm of passion, dismay, 
 remorse and sorrow that tortured his own bosom. 
 
 The arch was the remnants of an old salty port, and was un 
 doubtedly a part of the ancient outer wall of Lacy Keep. It was
 
 A MONOLOGUE MASCULINE. 157 
 
 built of massive stones, and on the inner side adorned with gro 
 tesque carvings of saints and angels. Besides the main arch 
 there were some fragments of the wall still standing, and the 
 entire ruin had been carefully preserved through later generations 
 of the Lacys, and was, in fact, the show ruin of the neighbourhood- 
 It was overgrown with ivy, and there were sundry hiding places 
 in the remains of the wall. Out of one of these, near the arch, 
 the scarred countenance of Mr. Butler peered, overspread with 
 a sardonic grin, and affording a sharp contrast to the pious ex 
 pression on the stone faces in the arch, as he watched the horse 
 man galloping away. It also afforded a very strong contrast to 
 the lovely face of Lady Lacy, watching him from her chamber 
 window. 
 
 OHAPTEE XXVIII. 
 A MONOLOGUE MASCULINE. 
 
 DEFENCELESS girl!'" said Mr. Barston, as Eoland 
 sped down the avenue ; " l a defenceless girl,' she said. 
 It appears to me that she made a very respectable defence. By the 
 three kings! how beautiful she looked, while her eyes were blaz 
 ing! How lovely, when they were drowned in tears! So she 
 t almost hates me !' I suppose if I had stayed a little longer the 
 almost would have grown into the altogether. ' Insulted !' 
 ' wounded !' and by Lacy Barston, who has been worshipping her 
 with blind idolatry for a dozen years. By Lacj 7 Barston, who 
 would bite off his tongue before he would insult a woman. 
 1 Cruel !' and I have a reputation for such a degree of milk- 
 soppishness as would not hurt a fly ! 
 
 " What could there have been in my words or manner that 
 roused such a devil in this gentle girl f I only told her that I 
 loved her. I am sure I should have endured it better than that 
 if the proposition were reversed ! What a tigress she is my 
 darling ! She has rejected me point blank ! Scouted me and 
 my offer with bitter reproaches! But she cannot prevent me 
 loving her," and he ground his teeth " and I intend to love her 
 while I live and afterwards, please Ileaven 1 
 
 " I was too abrupt. What a simpleton I was to blurt out a
 
 158 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 declaration to this ' poor defenceless girl ' without proper warn 
 ing ! I should have dangled after her five or six months, made 
 pretty speeches and written poetry ! Oh, Eet ! I thought you 
 had more sense. Alas! it was not that. She dislikes ine per 
 sonally, and she was outraged because I did not respect her 
 widowhood. She would have been better pleased if I had gone 
 about helping her moan over Jack! Why, the poor boy has 
 been nearly three years buried, and she spoke of him with the 
 coolest composure ! But I have not seen her since he died, and 
 it would have been more decorous in me if I had gone over the 
 usual condolences ! How is a fellow to know all these conven 
 tionalisms who has never had any practice in the humbug ? 
 
 "It is clear that the difficulty is just there ! For she said some 
 thing about l the memory of my kinsman ' shielding her from my 
 outrageous proposal. 
 
 "I may as well face the situation. Second marriages are an 
 abomination. Suppose I had married Eet and lost her could I 
 ever put another woman in her place ? Never ! never ! My soul 
 recoils with unspeakable horror from the bare thought! Nay, 
 the thought of taking any other woman on the earth gives me a 
 regular fit of the horrors. I could never do it ! And no doubt 
 Eet I beg her pardon Lady Lacy, cherishes the memory of her 
 husband as I should cherish her memory if I had suffered similar 
 bereavement. 
 
 " And so I have been led thus far astray by my blind and self 
 ish passion, and have pained and shocked my beloved with bru 
 tal recklessness ! Yonder reprobate said, ' Woe to the woman I 
 married,' and he was right ! All my thoughts of comforting, 
 defending, protecting her, were unlimited bosh ! I should have 
 made her life miserable! To think of linking such sweetness and 
 beauty to my rudeness ! Ah! if Mr. Butler had only foreseen to 
 day's experience, he need not have threatened ine with i thwarting 
 my plans.' I must leave the field to him. But I'll warn Parson 
 Johnny, by the three kings ! 
 
 "I must go to London to-night and make Parchment fix these 
 title-deeds. The poor little defenceless vixen cannot prevent that 
 at least. I do not know how to prove Elbert Lacy's death, but 
 Parchment can manage it. What admirable wisdom the sharp 
 little woman displayed in that contest about the Lacy succession, 
 and she has gotten all her knowledge of the case from these musty 
 parchments. But Bottomry! How did she know about Bot-
 
 A MONOLOGUE MASCULINE. 159 
 
 tomry and DeVere ! It is pretty certain that the rascals did not 
 tell. Johnny has been prating, no doubt. 
 
 " It is raining like blazes, and I never knew it ! I wonder if it 
 was raining in this fashion when I left her ladyship, and if so, I 
 wonder if she enjoyed tiie prospect before me three miles to the 
 nearest shelter. I will not believe it ; she would not turn a dog 
 out in such a storm as this. 
 
 "Just a year ago, in the blaze of the Polar moonlight, I climbed 
 the high peak on the coast of Spencerland. I found the large 
 saxifrage in the sheltered valley, and I kissed it for her ! and 
 when I gained the summit of the black rock, where no mortal 
 foot had ever stood before, I carved her name there with the spike 
 of my Alpenstock, and it is there still, { RET,' au( i I thought I 
 should tell her of it some day, and of the peril I foolishly dared, 
 merely for the sake of putting that inscription there ! And after 
 wards, on my solitary tramp over floes and hummocks, how often 
 I turned and looked back at the bald crag that bore her name. 
 
 " If she knew it she would go there, climb where I climbed, and 
 chop out my inscription with a tomahawk ! 
 
 " I wonder if any other fellow has been prowling about here or 
 has met her in Essex ? By the three kings ! that would be a jolly 
 business. She don't know anybody here but DeVere and Callahan. 
 Is it possible that a puppy so unmitigated as DeVere could catch 
 her fancy ? Pooh ! I'll not believe it. I cannot understand why 
 I am not more demoralized, unless it is because she said ' Never ! 
 never !' when I suggested matrimony. If she had a liking for 
 any other man she is the soul of truth and would have said so ; 
 and I would cut his throat ! It is not that. 
 
 " One of two things must needs be true. I have cancelled the 
 possibilities on the two sides all but these : 
 
 " First, she must have been so devoted to Jack that the thought 
 of marrying again is utterly abhorrent to her. Let us try that 
 equation ! Jack, poor boy, was not the sort of fellow to awaken 
 an undying attachment. He was handsome, brave, truthful, indo 
 lent, and selfish. I may say so to myself alone, for I loved him. 
 He thought he was madly in love, but he wasn't. Had he loved 
 her he could not have gotten into the toils of those shallow knaves. 
 Parson Johnny has told me enough to satisfy me that her married 
 life was not happy. How did she come to marry him ? Well, he 
 was handsome, impetuous, was endorsed by Lord and Lady Mor 
 ton, and Ret was fancy free. The marriage was very natural, and
 
 160 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 the subsequent repentance natural, too. I dismiss that proposi 
 tion, therefore. It is not that. 
 
 " Second, for some sufficient reason she must hate me. What 
 have I done or said ? Could she, in her Harwood pride, resent my 
 interference in that gambling business ? No doubt Parson Johnny 
 has told her, as I blabbed very freely to him; otherwise she 
 could not have known about Bottomry and DeVere. When she 
 was discussing the payment of that money her eyes flashed like 
 the Cossack spear-heads when Jack and I rode down upon them ! 
 Oh, what eyes! and she keeps a lot of tears just under the lids to 
 drown a fellow after she has scorched him pretty nearly to death, 
 and beguiled him. into a love declaration ! But she is too sensible 
 to hate me for that, and if I had allowed her to squander all that 
 money in repayment the resentment would have died for lack of 
 fuel. I dismiss that proposition also. It is not that. 
 
 " I wonder if I am conceited enough to think myself invincible ? 
 It was not conceit that prompted my sudden avowal just now. 
 She looked so charming, and I have waited so long ! It has been 
 almost four years since I saw her, and I have been courting her 
 diligently, in my thoughts, which no mortal could know, and I 
 was foolish enough to think she might know with her quick wit. 
 And there is that darling baby ! I must have Nellie ! She said 
 this morning, "Oo may kiss me, for I love oo; but your beard 
 'cratches me !" I did kiss her, and Ket will kiss her, not knowing 
 that she is so near to kissing me. It is a very unsatisfactory sort 
 of proxy business, but it is better than none. 
 
 " My lady, do you think you have done with me f ' and here he 
 spoke through his set teeth. " If you do, you are greatly mis 
 taken ! But I must wait. If I had been allowed to select the 
 circumstances of our late encounter I could not have arranged 
 matters better. I leave her with a very plain declaration of love. 
 She dismisses me with a very clear declaration of hostilities. I have 
 these deeds, and I intend to fix them so that she cannot discover 
 anything more than she has already guessed about the Lacy in 
 heritance. If she insists upon paying that Bottomry money she 
 may do it. It is all one. Nellie will get it anyhow. Since I sailed 
 with Spencer my income has accumulated, and I am no poorer to 
 day for that outlay ; and then she will remember that interview, 
 and when she reflects upon her cruel words she will repent; and 
 if she begins to repent she will be vanquished ! But I'll not have 
 her that way, either, by the three kings ! She shall love me !
 
 ANOTHER MONOLOGUE FEMININE. 161 
 
 " And so I'll be off again to salt water. One day with Parch 
 ment, that is to-morrow, aud then I'll take the first ship I can find. 
 Where shall I go ?" 
 
 "Porto Rico first. I must get some sugar. I have a half 
 promise to Mrs. Dawson. Besides I want some for myself. These 
 grocery rascals sophisticate their wares, and it will be jolly fun to 
 watch all the manipulations, and to be certain of the purity of one 
 hogshead at least. Then I shall go to Cuba. I want cigars, and 
 I intend to see them made with my own eyes. I'll get a lot for 
 Parson Johnny, too. 
 
 " There is Laviugtou, Eoland ; you sleek old villain, I am going 
 to give you a long rest. I have three or four hours before train 
 time for a bath, a dry suit, a letter to Parson Johnny and a 
 smoke! Ah, Eet, my love! The prospect of leaving thee is 
 appalling ! But when I see thee again I shall leave thee no more, 
 and I leave thee now only to be more sure of thee when I return." 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 ANOTHER MONOLOGUE FEMININE. 
 
 WHEN Lady Lacy parted from Swiss so abruptly she ran 
 into her chamber and locked the door. She threw her hat 
 and shawl aside, and as she passed the window she saw Barston 
 leading Roland from under the arch. She was a little shocked, as 
 it was no part of her intention to send him away in the rain, and 
 while she tried to think of a pretext for detaining him, he twisted 
 his hand in Roland's mane and vaulted into the saddle. He 
 passed her window like a flash, giving her a glimpse of his grave 
 face as she drew back behind the curtain. It struck her suddenly 
 that he was handsome. Then she saw the mocking face of Mr. 
 Butler peeping out of the dripping ivy, aud it occurred to her that 
 lie was hideous. Then, as the tramp of the galloping horse died 
 away, she sat down aud cried. 
 
 Of course ! 
 
 You know how it is, reader. It makes no difference whether 
 you are gentle or not. 
 
 "It is perfectly outrageous!" she began, clenching her little 
 hands until the nails imprinted themselves upon her palms. " To 
 
 11
 
 162 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 think that I, of all the women in the world, should have been sub 
 jected to such an affront ! Oh, why did I not scratch his big eyes 
 out ! How dared he do it !" and she sprang from her seat and 
 began to stride about the room. " I had almost forgotten about 
 his villainy when he began to talk about loving me. Me!" here 
 she stamped viciously. " And it has only been a few hours since 
 I heard him making love to that brazen minx, poor Kitty ! No 
 doubt he has been persecuting her with the voice of an angel and 
 the heart of a fiend ! Oh, how can he do it, the hypocrite ? I 
 cannot bear to think of it ! What does that ugly wretch look so 
 satisfied for? It is his work, telling his horrid lies about gentle 
 men! Ah, me! I heard him myself! Oh, Lacy Barston, I have 
 no faith in mortal man! But that's a story! My Father and 
 Johnny are true as steel ! And Allen and Herbert ! And I have 
 been thinking these years that Lacy Barston was all that was 
 noble and good ! Ah ! the deceitful wretch ! to dare to talk to 
 me of marriage ! 
 
 "If it had been possible for me ever to think of such a thing I 
 almost believe I could have learned to like this false villain ! Oh, 
 how thankful I ought to be that he was unmasked so thoroughly! 
 
 " I declare I have no patience with Father's cool way of discuss 
 ing the matter! He seemed to think there was some satisfactory 
 explanation. Oh, these men ! Didn't I hear him ?" As she 
 passed the mirror she paused and glanced at the reflection of 
 matchless loveliness more lovely and attractive because of the 
 distress in face and attitude. " What can he see in Kitty, I won 
 der? He is infatuated. Perhaps he is a lunatic! A nice busi 
 ness to ask me to marry a lunatic 1" and here she cried a little 
 more. 
 
 "If he had not been thoroughly wicked he would never have 
 ridden off in the rain ! How it does rain ! He is such a tiger of a 
 man that he don't care for anything ! I wonder what he will say 
 when I meet him again? How shall I tell Mother what he just 
 said to me ? I cannot tell her ! She would abhor him if she 
 knew. I'll tell nobody ! 
 
 " And there's Nellie, never tired of talking of him. He is not 
 content with a moderate amount of wickedness, but wants to steal 
 my child's heart. If I thought he really wished to marry Kitty ! 
 Oh, what an absurdity! he has never had such an intention! 
 There goes that ugly gamekeeper ! and he looks as triumphant 
 as Satan ! You are a fine gentleman, Mr. Barston, to choose such
 
 ANOTHER MONOLOGUE FEMININE. 163 
 
 a rival as that! He is going to the housekeeper's room. I wish 
 Mrs. Froouie would give him a regular dressing ! If he is court 
 ing Kitty 1 will get Father to give him more wages and let them 
 marry. It would be a triple kindness ! Certainly a kindness to 
 these two, and a mercy to that poor misguided man, who must be 
 half drowned by this time. Drowned ! He can't be drowned. 
 Ah, he don't know that J know of his exploit when we were at 
 the Smuggler's Cave ! To think that he has actually saved my 
 life ! Because John told me that he could never have caught the 
 boat, and when Mr. Barston got to him he was nearly exhausted! 
 How came he there? Was he watching over mef Oh, dear! he 
 said he ' relinquished ' me to John ! My head will burst if I think 
 any more about him ! 
 
 " Mother did not seem at all shocked, though she was perplexed 
 by Father's story. She said, l ask Johnny ;' as if Johnny could ex 
 plain away that dialogue I overheard in the conservatory. If he 
 could oh, if he could ! It wounds me so deeply to relinquish 
 my good opinion of John's cousin ! And then, if he never dared 
 to speak to me again of love, I might- come to forgive him in 
 time. 
 
 " Did anybody ever see a man ride like this lunatic ? He bounded 
 from the ground as if he had wings on his feet, and tore away on 
 that mad beast like the Wild Huntsman! I almost expected his 
 horse to blow flames from his nostrils." 
 
 She poured some water in a basin and bathed her face, washing 
 away the traces of tears. She moistened her handkerchief with 
 eau de Cologne, and bound it round her temples. And she sat 
 down to think. 
 
 " Johnny says I don't reason, but ' intuit ' things. Let me try 
 one point at a time. That is the way these wise men do. First : 
 The gamekeeper's story. I believe he is really in love with Kitty, 
 and if so, jealousy is the next step. It comes easily. His first 
 charge related to Mr. Barston's meeting with Kitty on the Exeter 
 road. But Nellie was the attraction there, perhaps. Naturally he 
 was eager to see John's child, and Kitty's story of that encounter 
 was very straight and simple. He could not have made love 
 speeches with William listening. That is out of the question. So 
 Butler probably told a story about that Then, if he told stories 
 about one thing he would do the same about another. I don't 
 believe a word of that rascal's story. Why did his lace wear such 
 a triumphant grin just now! Shall I go ask Kitty? Never!
 
 164 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 never P and she drew herself up with haughty grace, while the 
 blood rushed to her cheeks and temples. 
 
 " Second : Can there be any explanation of what I heard in the 
 conservatory ? He said, ' Kitty, you must come to Oakland and 
 live there.' And then he said something about wrecking Tier happi 
 ness. He did not mention his happiness. Altogether he did not 
 talk like a man in love. The mere words may be explained, as 
 they were not enforced with tones. It was a far different tone he 
 used in the library just now, when he said l he loved me with every 
 pulse of his heart !' If he had not been talking such foolishness, 
 his voice would have forced me to believe him!" and once more the 
 crimson hue overspread her face and neck. 
 
 " Suppose there had been no Kitty in the world, and he had 
 said all that to me ! What could I have said ? Alas ! I cannot 
 tell. He is such an obstinate wretch that he would not have 
 listened to my objections. Of course such a thing is too absurd 
 to think of! A young, rich, handsome man, who knows every 
 thing and can do anything he pleases, and who could marry almost 
 any girl in England, to throw himself away upon a poor widow ! 
 Why, Clare Tamworth would be a more suitable match, a hundred 
 times ! And he could get her easily if he tried. I vow I will quit 
 thinking about him ! 
 
 "I am glad we are going to Carlisle next week! Clare is set 
 upon that visit, and I am longing to get out of this neighbourhood 
 for a few weeks. And it is not probable that any persecutors will 
 follow us there, unless he should conclude to court Clare the per 
 fidious wretch ! There, I am thinking of him again ! Bnt it would 
 be so ridiculous to overhear him telling Clare that he loved her 
 'with every pulse of his heart !' 
 
 " The most reasonable thing to expect is, that Johnny will como 
 over here in a day or two, with some story in defence of his beloved 
 Swiss. If we can only get away before he does ! 
 
 " But Mr. Barston is so devoted to Xellie that he might come to 
 Carlisle to see her. Suppose I leave her here with Kitty ? That 
 would be a real sin, for if he had a clear field, me away, and nobody 
 to take care of that poor girl, nobody can tell what might be tlio 
 consequences ! With that voice of his and those big eyes, that 
 look so honest and gentle and loving, that horrid man could delude 
 a .saint ! 
 
 " I don't think I can quit thinking about him. He shocked mo 
 so dreadfully with his fierce way of talking that I am entirely
 
 THE EEC TOR EXPLAINS. 165 
 
 unstrung. A pretty way he has of making love ! To say such 
 dreadful cross things to a poor woman, and then to rush out of the 
 house and gallop oft' in that insulting manner. If I harboured 
 resentment, I should be delighted to hear that he had taken cold 
 and was dangerously ill. Ah !" she said, with a charming little 
 shudder, " how wicked I must be even to think of such a thing. 
 This is a fine return for saving my life ! 
 
 u It seems like yesterday when this great giant was a boy and 
 full of boyish pranks, leading my brothers into mischief and 
 ul \vays standing between them and harm. I can recall a hundred 
 tricks, but not one uukindness, and no one ever accused him of 
 falsehood ; yet if these accusations were true, he would be both 
 cruel and false ! What would Johnny say to such charges! 
 
 " What an irritable, ill tempered man he must be ! Instead of 
 explaining his misbehaviour he must tear away in a towering rage, 
 and that after such violent professions of love and devotion. If 
 he ever dares to renew his professions I " 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 THE KECTOR EXPLAINS. 
 
 rector dined at Morton Priory on the day whose events 
 J- are recorded above. The rain continued far into the night, 
 and he, nothing loth, remained at his Father's house. Two days 
 after, he, with Lord and Lady Morton, were at the Red Hall 
 whose inmates were busy with preparations for a visit to Scot 
 land. Miss Tarn worth appeared to have charge of all the arrange 
 ments, and Lady Lacy was preoccupied and silent. Her languor 
 disappeared, however, when the rector suddenly said : 
 
 " I have a message for you, Ret, from Swiss." 
 
 " A message ?" 
 
 " Yes ; I have the letter here somewhere,*' and he fumbled in 
 various pockets. " Ah ! here it is. I'll read what he says. Urn! 
 urn !" 
 
 " Read it all, John," said his mother. 
 
 " Oh, no ; Miss Tain worth might come in. Where is she, Retf 
 
 " In her own room. She is preparing for our journey to-morrow, 
 and will not be here for an hour." 
 
 " Well, then, I'll read it all. There are no secrets in it, but it 
 would look odd to Miss Clare"
 
 166 TEE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 " Never mind Clare," said Bet, snappishly j " read while you 
 have the opportunity." 
 
 The rector looked at her with surprise, but obediently began to 
 read : 
 
 " l My dear Parson ' he's in London, you know that is, he 
 was. Nobody can tell where he is now. ' My dear Parson, I have 
 two or three things to tell you to-night. First, about Kitty ' " 
 
 " Ah !" said Lady Morton, u that is precisely what I am most 
 eager to hear." 
 
 " Indeed !" said the rector ; " what makes you so interested in 
 Kitty, Mother ? Eet is the proper person to " 
 
 " Will you please read the letter f ' said Eet, with perfect out 
 ward composure. 
 
 " Certainly. Where was I ? Oh ! first about Kitty. I must 
 stop here, Eet, to explain about Kitty Mother wishes to know. 
 Well, ma'am, Kitty was left to Swiss by her father." 
 
 " Left to Swiss ! What rubbish are you talking, Parson f said 
 Lord Morton. 
 
 " It is all right, sir. When old Willis was in his last illness I 
 sent Swiss to see him. Ah, if you only knew how Swiss can talk ! 
 The old man told me afterwards that he was an angel ! And he 
 told the truth only Swiss is better than an angel ?" 
 
 " John, how dare you talk in that fashion !" 
 
 " Far better, Mother. An angel cannot have human sympathy, 
 and Swiss is filled with it. An angel could not make any man or 
 woman love him to distraction, and Swiss can." 
 
 " Including Kitty P said Lady Morton quietly. 
 
 " Ma'am !" 
 
 " I say, has he inspired Kitty with this distracting attachment?" 
 
 " I don't know what you mean, Mother. Swiss is a gentleman, 
 and it would not occur to him to try his powers of fascination 
 upon Kitty Willis." 
 
 " Indeed 1 Well, sir, that is just what is said of him." 
 
 " Who is responsible for the slander ?" replied the rector hotly. 
 Mother, you did not believe it, surely !" 
 
 "I have suspended my judgment in the case until I could hear 
 from you. Your Father said he would ask you." 
 
 " I forgot it," said Lord Morton. " The story is a short one, 
 Parson. The gamekeeper, Butler, told me that Mr. Barston was 
 persecuting Kitty with his attentions- 1 " 
 
 " Attentions !" said his sou, aghast. " My dear Father, how
 
 THE EECTOR EXPLAINS. 167 
 
 could you be deluded by so monstrous a story ! Kilty is a good 
 'girl and is good looking; but Lacy Barston, the scholar, the 
 accomplished gentleman, the bright Christian humble as any, 
 yet more haughty in his ancestral pride than 
 
 'Haughty Grimhilda's haughtier lord!" 
 
 Keally, I am ashamed to discuss so absurd a proposition. The 
 man is an ass or a rascal ! Here, listen to Swiss : ' First, about 
 Kitty. I saw her three or four times, and urged her to take the 
 housekeeper's place at Oakland. The old woman with whom she 
 has lived so long would also take some position there, to shelter 
 the girl from evil tongues. I had a long talk with Butler, and 
 almost concluded to withdraw my opposition, when I remembered 
 her father's earnest appeal to me to watch over his orphan child. 
 Johnny, I am afraid Butler is bad wholly bad. I fancy he is a 
 man of good blood and I fear he has lost his place in society by the 
 commission of some horrible crime. I must tell you the whole 
 truth, and I do it most reluctantly. I have nothing to support iny 
 opinion but vague instincts, yet when I challenged him to unfold 
 his past, he put me off with dreadful words about his father, whose 
 very memory he abhors. Yet with all this distrust and repug 
 nance I am strangely drawn to this miserable man, whose life I 
 saved at sea. He almost cursed me for doing it ! Now that I am 
 away, I pray you investigate this case. If your mother or sister, 
 or both, would undertake it, out of pure compassion for a mother 
 less girl, it would be far safer in their hands. In my clumsy 
 efforts to aid and shelter her I have made her hate the very sight 
 of me, and I have positively failed to accomplish any good. If I 
 had any influence over her it is lost ! " 
 
 He was interrupted by his sister, who rose from her seat and 
 pointed through the window at a man on the lawn. It was 
 Butler. 
 
 " It seems to me, Father, that your gamekeeper should make 
 some explanation, and he happens to be here. No time like the 
 present." She spoke with composure, though her face was flushed 
 and her little hands clenched. The wrong she had done in her 
 thoughts to poor Swiss filled her with sorrow, and with her re 
 pentance she remembered the diabolical grin she had seen on 
 Butler's face when Barston, laden with her reproaches, left Lacy 
 Keep. 
 
 " Yes," answered her Father promptly, and passing through the 
 window he held up his finger to the gamekeeper, who approached 
 at his signal.
 
 168 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 " Mr. Barston has explained all that was mysterious about his 
 interviews with Kitty, and your insinuations were false." This 
 was said with severe dignity, and Johnny expected to see the other 
 confused and apologetic. 
 
 " Indeed !" replied Butler, with a sneer. " Your lordship is 
 easily satisfied. Or, perhaps, you may think this gay young 
 gentleman is justifiable in filling a poor young girl's mind with 
 wrong notions." 
 
 " What do you mean, man !" replied Lord Morton ; " do you 
 persist in charging this gentleman with wicked intentions " 
 
 u That is as your lordship pleases," said Butler coolly. " I have 
 told no lies, and I am as incapable of that vice as your lord 
 ship " 
 
 " How dare you !" said Lady Lacy, suddenly appearing at her 
 father's side. The gamekeeper removed his hat, yet returned her 
 haughty glance without wincing. 
 
 " Your ladyship will pardon me," he said, " but I do not under 
 stand. I am on my defence, it seems, yet I do not yet know whom 
 I have offended." 
 
 " Go in, Bet," said Lord Morton. " Butler, I would not do you 
 an injustice, yet you have done a foul wrong in this matter. 
 Had I not known Mr. Barston so well I should have been misled 
 by your cunning story. I can make allowance for jealousy ' 
 
 " Pooh!" said Butler. " Excuse me, my lord. I cannot be held 
 responsible for your inferences. Mr. Barston has been very offi 
 cious in his interference with my affairs " 
 
 " Speak with respect of your superiors, sir." 
 
 " I do not recognize them in Mr. Barston or his associates, such 
 as Mr. DeVere. If your lordship is displeased I will retire. I 
 have no apology to offer for anything I have said or done." 
 
 u I give you warning to quit my service " 
 
 " No warning necessary, my lord," responded the other. " I am 
 paid up to yesterday and I will vacate your premises to-night. 
 Will Lady Lacy allow me to say a word to her nurse ?" 
 
 Lord Morton turned into the room, but Ket was gone. 
 
 " There is no reason for denying you if she is disengaged," said 
 Lady Morton. " If you apply to the housekeeper she will inform 
 Kitty that you wish to see her. I think it would be right, how 
 ever, to say what you have to say in Mrs. Froome's presence." 
 
 " I do not object, madame," said Butler. " I only wish to ex 
 plain to Kitty my changed relations, and the cause. I also wish to
 
 TEE LETTER. 169 
 
 be the first to announce her deliverance from persecution. Ha! 
 ha ! pardon me, your reverence, but I cannot help laughing to 
 think how your zeal and Mr. Barston's have resulted." 
 
 tl 1 wish you would come to the Rectory to-morrow," said the 
 rector gently. " If you will allow me to befriend you and Kitty 
 it will give me great pleasure. There are things you might say 
 to me that you would not reveal to others " 
 
 " You mean, to explain ' my antecedents,' as the Yankees say ? 
 Thank your reverence! You are too low church in your views to 
 favour the confessional. If I go into that business I will apply to 
 Father Tom, who will probably let me off more lightly." 
 
 il What a devil the man is !" sighed the rector, as the other 
 passed out of sight around the angle of the house. 
 
 " Swiss is right," said Lady Morton, decidedly. " This man is 
 well born and has been driven by crime from his proper station. 
 I think, also, he is wholly bad ! Herbert, my dear, I thank you 
 for dismissing him. Where is Eet ?" 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 THE LETTER. 
 
 WHEN Lady Lacy returned to the room from the terrace in 
 obedience to her father's command, her mother and brother 
 were standing in the window, interested in the discussion between 
 Lord Morton and Butler. She espied the open letter on the table, 
 and with the superb grace of a tigress she noselessly caught it up, 
 and after glancing hurriedly at the others, she silently passed out 
 of the room. Gaining her chamber she locked the door, and fall 
 ing on her knees upon a low ottoman under the window, she 
 spread out the sheets on the table and began to read. It is possi 
 ble, and under the circumstances not indecorous, for the gentle 
 reader to peep over her shapely shoulder. Although the rector 
 has already read a portion of the letter, it will be more satisfac 
 tory to the reader, probably, to have it all together. 
 
 LONDON, 1st May. 
 MY DEAR PARSON: 
 
 I have two or three things to tell you to-night. First, about Kitty. 
 I saw her three or four times, and urged her to take the house-
 
 170 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 keeper's place at Oakland. The old woman with whom she has lived 
 so long would also take some position there to shelter the girl 
 from evil tongues. I had a long talk with Butler, and almost 
 concluded to withdraw my opposition, when I remembered her 
 father's earnest appeal to me to watch over his orphan child. 
 Johnny, I am afraid Butler is bad wholly bad. I fancy he is a 
 man of good blood, and I fear he has lost his place in society by 
 the commission of some terrible crime. I must tell you the whole 
 truth, and I do it most reluctantly. I have nothing to support my 
 opinion but vague instincts. Yet when I challenged him to unfold 
 his past, he put me off with doubtful words about his father, whose 
 very memory he abhors ! Yet, with all this distrust and repug 
 nance, I am strangely drawn to this miserable man, whose life I 
 saved at sea. He almost cursed me for doing it. Now that I am 
 away, I pray you investigate this case. If your mother or sister, 
 or both, would undertake it out of pure compassion for a mother 
 less girl, it would be far safer in their hands. In my clumsy efforts 
 to aid and shelter her I have made her hate the very sight of me, 
 and I have positively failed to accomplish any good. If I had any 
 influence over her it is lost, and I begin to think I am a general 
 failure. Perhaps if she is in love with this fellow she may be able 
 to control him, and deliver him from evil habits, and all my obsti 
 nate interference may have been so much resistance to the orderly 
 march of beneficent Providence. 
 
 "Nevertheless, I cannot shake off the responsibility her father 
 put upon me, except by transferring it to the excellent ladies I 
 have named. If they will assume the trust, my cares are at an 
 end. Use your eloquence, Parson, in Kitty's behalf. 
 
 The second matter relates to Lady Lacy. When I saw her last 
 we had some controversy, touching transfers of certain property. 
 Will you please deliver this message ? Tell her I hold to every 
 icord I said to her with a tenacity as relentless as death. There 
 is nothing possible or conceivable in the events of Providence 
 that can change any part of my opinions or desires as related to 
 her. Yet I cannot contend with her, and will obey her commands 
 as accurately as possible. The title to the Lacy lands now 
 stands in her, with no chance of litigation as against her, except 
 such litigation should be begun by Lacy Barstou. If she insists 
 upon this litigation, I beg to refer her to Mr. Alfred Parchment^ 
 who is my solicitor, and her's also, I believe. You know, or rather 
 she knows, that the whole question rests upon the interpretation 
 of the will of Sir Harold Lacy three generations old.
 
 THE LETTER. 171 
 
 " Speaking as a lawyer, I should say here that a serious obsta 
 cle in the way of settlement is found in the difficulty of proving 
 Elbert Lacy's deatb. While I have no doubts on that point, it would 
 still be proper to demand security from any holder of the Lacy 
 lands who should propose a transfer of title. My title depends 
 solely upon the extinction of the Lacy line, and I cannot eject her 
 by legal process until I prove the line extinct. To do this I must 
 prove Elbert dead, which would be (legally) both difficult and 
 expensive. As a matter of pure economy, I prefer leaving her 
 in peaceable possession. 
 
 " Another point relates to certain money transactions between 
 Sir John Lacy and Lacy Barston. I am the holder of a mortgage 
 upon the Red Hall and lands for ten thousand pounds. It was 
 transferred to me by Mr. Bottomry. Parchment would not allow 
 me to cancel this mortgage two or three years ago, as I desired, 
 and if your sister still wishes to pay it, I am bound in common 
 honesty to w r arn her that the document is defective, as Sir John 
 had no (legal) right to transfer, while his elder brother's death 
 was uuproven. 
 
 " Still another point relates to other money transactions, for 
 which I have no legal vouchers. It pains me no little to recur to 
 these matters, but my lady is obdurate, and noblesse oblige. I will 
 make a fair statement of these when I return, and will abide by 
 her decision. 
 
 " When I return ! I cannot now say when this will be. I am 
 writing in the cabin of the Dm'e, a side wheel steamer that will 
 go down the river an hour hence, bound for i Nassau and a mar 
 ket.' She is laden with sundry commodities very much in demand 
 in the southern half of the Disunited States, and is commanded by 
 Frank Hazard, who was Spencer's first officer and my good friend. 
 I am only a passenger this time. I expect to investigate the con 
 dition of affairs in the Confederate States, as the Dixie thinks of 
 going to Charleston for the market which may not be found at 
 Nassau. She also thinks of returning with a cargo of cotton, if 
 the blockade of the southern ports is not too strong. Some one 
 has asserted to me that New Orleans sugar is better than that 
 from Porto Kico. I hope to satisfy myself by personal inspection 
 on this point. If I get into the Southern States and out again 
 with a whole skin, I purpose a short visit to the West India 
 Islands. Cuba for cigars, mainly for you and your father, and 
 Porto Kico for sugar, mainly for Mrs. Dawson and her landlord.
 
 172 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 " By the bye, Johnny, please ride Koland down to Eipple occa 
 sionally and look after the old lady a little. Eoland knows the 
 way. And give Tommy an occasional half crown ; it is the tip 
 he expects from Eoland's rider. You will recognize Tommy by 
 his mouth. Nature has been bountiful to him in that regard, and 
 no animal except an alligator can rival him. If you tell Mrs. 
 Dawsoii you love me, she will give you a curd of astounding 
 elegance. 
 
 " And now, dear friend, I am admonished by the noises above 
 my head that my time is nearly up. I also hear the singing of 
 the steam, and Hazard tells me the last boat will quit the ship in 
 half an hour. You will wonder what strange freak has taken me 
 away from England. I cannot explain to you now, though I may 
 do so hereafter. I will only say that I have been nourishing a 
 scheme for many years, looking to the acquisition of a certain pos 
 session more valuable than all my inheritance. I thought I was 
 tolerably near the attainment, but have suddenly learned that I 
 must wait I cannot tell how long. But I am resolved to pursue 
 this object until I die, unless it shall be revealed to me that sin is 
 in the pursuit. It does not seem so to me now. If you were to 
 ask me how I fell into so egregious a blunder as to think I was 
 near possession, I cannot tell you. I do not know. It is myste 
 rious, perplexing, humiliating. And my restless spirit longs for 
 the restless sea. 
 
 " When I get upon blue water my mind is usually clear. At 
 present I am stunned, stupefied as one who has been feeding upon 
 opium must feel. The course of Providence has been inscrutable 
 to me. Obstacles confronted me from the first inception of desire 
 for this prize, which has been the solitary object of my life, and 
 longed for with a passionate longing that is inexpressible. It is 
 so much a part of my life that I think my life would end if the 
 longing died. And as the stately march of Providence removed 
 the first obstacle, a second, more insurmountable, took its place, 
 and compelled my acquiescence. I thought it was gone forever, 
 but I was mistaken, and when this also was taken away it seemed 
 to wrench from me memory, consciousness, hope, faith, and all 
 the attributes of manhood. Then I fled to the sea again, and on 
 its broad bosom I found peace at last and the old hope revived. 
 It would avail nothing to tell you what new plans I laid, and how 
 I approached with steadfast steps the attainment once more. It 
 was too soon, and the coveted possession, almost within my grasp 
 as I thought, eluded me.
 
 THE LETTER. 173 
 
 " And as I go forth again, with a purposeless energy that seems 
 akin to madness, I am only conscious of one unshaken determina 
 tion, to hold fast to my pursuit, and wait. 
 
 " I am upheld in this resolve by the profound conviction that 
 the prayers of my whole lifetime cannot be wasted. And the suc 
 cess which I shall win at last will fully atone for all the disap 
 pointments I have hitherto endured. 
 
 " Anchor atrip ! Farewell, dear friend. 
 
 "LACY BARSTON." 
 
 As she read the concluding lines Lady Lacy covered her face 
 with her hands, and while the tears dropped through her slender 
 fingers upon the open letter she murmured: 
 
 "Oh dear! oh dear! what shall I do! He thinks me cruel, 
 heartless, proud, unreasonable, and yet he loves me, he loves 
 me!" 
 
 Later in the day the rector applied to his sister, with troubled 
 countenance, for consolation. 
 
 " Bet," he said, " I walked down to the Dark Wood since Butler 
 was here, and I have lost Barston's letter ! I am sure I thrust it 
 in my pocket when that fellow was talking to Father, and then I 
 forgot all about it until I returned from my walk. I have turned 
 all my pockets inside out! I have been down to the Wood again, 
 but it's gone ! There was a long message to you in it !" 
 
 "Can you not remember itP she answered, with deceitful com 
 posure. 
 
 " No! It was something about title deeds and law matters, and 
 there was a great lot of bosh in it about some wild goose chase 
 upon which he has set his heart. I thought you might help me 
 to understand what the lunatic is driving at. I'll go back to the 
 Wood and take another hunt for it." 
 
 " Very well, Johnny," said Ret, sympathetically. " If you fail 
 to find it you can tell me the main points, and I can guess the 
 rest. Make haste back." 
 
 And when the perplexed rector passed through the ruined arch, 
 on his hopeless errand, the heartless vixen drew the letter from 
 her bosom and nefariously kissed it! 
 
 Gentle reader, these feminine characters give an enormous 
 amount of trouble. One may honestly endeavour to describe 
 their tricks, but their motives are beyond human scrutiny.
 
 114 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 CLARE'S SYMPATHY. 
 
 SO little has been said hitherto about Miss Clare Tamworth, 
 that the reader must be somewhat doubtful about her men 
 tal exercises, as she has kept so quiet and undemonstrative. It is 
 possible that Lady Lacy has a positive identity in the minds 
 of all who have patiently read the foregoing pages. In the hope 
 that his duty as a faithful chronicler has been discharged in her 
 case, the author leaves her to work out her natural destiny, while 
 a little more direct attention is bestowed upon her chosen friend 
 and companion. 
 
 The playful accusation of our friend Swiss was founded upon 
 fact. This amiable young lady was lover proof. Barston had 
 really met with two or three doleful swains in London, whose best 
 powers of fascination had been tried upon Miss Tarn worth in vain. 
 One of them, the Viscount Lappermilk, was specially discomfited. 
 He was an Oxford man, and Barston had befriended him there 
 in his hopeless digging among Greek roots, and won his grati 
 tude and confidence, and he unbosomed himself over a dinner at 
 the club in this wise : 
 
 " Miss Tamworth, Swiss, is a wegular stunnah ! SLe has lots of 
 tin, too. Don't twy for it, ol' fellah, you cawnt go in and win. I 
 twied ; and weally, I got so spoony that I forgot the tin. But she 
 is equally beyond the weach of delibewate appwoaches or the pas 
 sionate wush. I twied both." 
 
 Although Lord Lappermilk was himself rather impecunious, he 
 was the son and heir of an earl, and would inherit a very fine 
 estate some day, and Swiss frankly told him that he should waste 
 no energies in pursuing so coy a damsel. " She has won honour 
 enough, Lappermilk," he said, " in throwing you over. I shall not 
 give her the chance to repeat the exploit upon me." 
 
 u She did not exactly throw me ovah !" replied the Viscount. 
 " When I made the wush she said it was pwetty, and she had wead 
 it in a book. I assured her that I spoke my weal sentiments and 
 was wegular spoony, and she wung the bell and told the flunkey 
 to ' bwing Lord Lappermilk a glass of iced water.' As she chose 
 to take it in that way I thought I would not pwess the mattah. 
 But she is without a heart, Swiss."
 
 CLARE'S SYMPATHY. 175 
 
 To disprove tbis slander is the purpose of the present chapter. 
 "When the Reverend John Harwood started for the Dark Wood the 
 second time, lie met Miss Tamworth near a belt of shrubbery be 
 yond the ruined arch. 
 
 " My dear Miss Clare," he said, " I have lost a letter that I am 
 most anxious to recover." 
 
 " Can I aid you in your search ?" said she. 
 
 " Yes ! Perhaps you may find it in the shrubbery. I think I 
 passed through this edge of it as I went to the Wood. I am going 
 back there. It is from Swiss." 
 
 " Where is he ?" inquired Miss Tamworth. " I miss him dread 
 fully." 
 
 " He is on the sea by this time," answered the rector, with a 
 pang of jealousy. "If you are so much interested in him I am 
 glad he is gone !" 
 
 "On the sea! What unexplored regions does he seek this 
 time F 
 
 " I think he is going among the Yankees. It is some sort of 
 piratical expedition. The letter tells, if we can only find it. I'll 
 be back in fifteen minutes," and he walked hastily away. 
 
 When she entered the little grove of evergreens Miss Tamworth 
 diligently examined the ground at each step without finding the 
 lost letter. It is not probable that her search would have been 
 successful if she had examined every square inch of the plantation. 
 She was slightly startled to see Butler standing in the path when 
 she raised her eyes. Kitty was just disappearing in the direction 
 of the Hall. 
 
 u Will Miss Tamworth do me the great kindness to listen five 
 minutes " 
 
 " Not here, certainly," replied she, as she turned to follow Kitty. 
 
 U I beg your pardon, "persisted Butler, "if you will look across 
 the fence here you will see the gardener within call. What I say 
 to you must be said secretly if at all !" 
 
 "What do you wish?" said Clare, with calm dignity. 
 
 " I wish you to believe me. First of all, I am a gentleman of good 
 name and the rightful owner of a fair inheritance. I can oifer 
 you no proof but this ;" and he pulled oft' his leather glove an 
 stretched out his hand, white and small, with long tapering lingers- 
 " I thought I might rely upon the instinct of a well-bred lady to 
 recognize one of her own class even in this disguise." This was 
 said with steady composure. " I was Lord Morton's gamekeeper
 
 176 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 an hour ago, but have been dismissed, mainly because I intend to 
 marry yonder girl." 
 
 "Kitty Willis P said Miss Tamworth. "You surprise me. I 
 know nothing about the matter. Supposing you are telling the 
 truth about your own station, which I do not dispute, I cannot 
 see the propriety of the match you propose. It is not probable 
 that your family " 
 
 "I ain thankful to say that I am alone in the world. None of 
 my kindred, near enough to call for affectionate interest, remain 
 upon the face of the earth. Besides, the girl is better bred than 
 you suppose. Anyhow, I am bound in honour to marry her, for I 
 promised when we were children a dozen years ago, and I have 
 never yet failed to redeem my word ; and she is dearer to me than 
 any other woman can ever be. I only wanted to ask you to be 
 kind to her." 
 
 " I am not aware that I have been unkind to her." 
 
 " Far from it, madam. On the contrary, I am emboldened to 
 make this appeal to you because you have been specially kind. If 
 you will consider what is involved in orphanage and poverty at 
 least such measure of poverty as makes this place and her wages 
 important to her and think of the torture inflicted by mistaken 
 kindness on the part of the rector and his friend, Mr. Barston " 
 
 " I cannot imagine what you are talking about," said Clare, im 
 petuously ; " What do you mean by saying these things P 
 
 " I mean that her pastor thinks the discharged gamekeeper is 
 not good enough for her, and tells her so. I mean that Mr. Bar 
 ston told her two days ago that I was a brute, and unfit to marry 
 any decent girl ; and I mean that I would rely more upon your 
 gentle charity and your quick wit to shield her while I am absent 
 than upon anything else. Mr. Barston " 
 
 " Will not trouble you or Kitty very soon. He has gone on a 
 piratical expedition." 
 
 " What say you 1" said the other, a paleness overspreading his 
 face. " What horrible words are these 1" 
 
 " I suppose it was only the rector's joke," she said, a little 
 shocked at the effect of her words ; " but Mr. Barston has really 
 sailed for America." 
 
 " On board the Dixie, I'll be sworn I Do you know, Miss Tam 
 worth, that I should have sailed in that ship if she had delayed 
 her departure only one more day ? and finding Barston aboard, I 
 swear I would have scuttled the ship to get finally rid of him !
 
 CLARE'S SYMPATHY. 177 
 
 What a narrow escape for us both ! for I cannot quarrel with 
 Barston, for two weighty reasons ; one, he saved my life once " 
 
 " And the other ?" said Clare, as he paused. 
 
 " No matter about the other; one is sufficient. lam greatly 
 relieved to know he is out of England. Miss Tamworth, I tliank 
 you for your kindness in listening to me. I ask no promise from 
 you ; I only remark that I desire to remain unknown and unsus 
 pected for the present, and only you and Kitty know that I am 
 anything more than Butler the drunken gamekeeper. If you could 
 be told all of my story I should be certain of your sympathy." He 
 brushed his hand across his eyes as he spoke. " How much of my 
 present distress is due to my own misconduct, and how much to 
 the flagrant wrong doings of others, I cannot say, and you would 
 hardly care to hear. Adieu, madam. It is not probable that we 
 shall ever meet again P and suddenly opening a wicket in the 
 fence and crossing the garden, he passed from her sight forever. 
 
 " Poor man P said Clare ; " this is decidedly romantic. He 
 must be a gentleman, or else the prince of dissemblers ! Anyhow, 
 I sympathize with him in his distress, and will keep his secret. I 
 sliall have opportunities to question Kitty when we get to Carlisle. 
 I must also find out why the rector takes so deep an interest in 
 Kitty. Here he comes, without his letter." As Mr. Harwood 
 approached she recommenced her search, flitting in and out among 
 the trees like a well grown bird of paradise. 
 
 " How kind of you," said Parson Johnny as he joined her, " to 
 hunt for that tiresome letter. " Never mind it ; some one will find 
 it, probably, and return it." 
 
 "Mr. Butler was here just now," replied Clare, "and I saw 
 Kitty also, just after you left me." 
 
 " Indeed ! Well, if they should happen to read it they will 
 scarcely approve of all Barston's sentiments. He speaks of them 
 both in it." 
 
 " Do you remember what he says ?" 
 
 "Yes; that is, I remember the general drift of his remarks. 
 Swiss thinks Butler is a scamp, and so do I. He confronted my 
 Father to-day in a manner that was rather insolent, considering 
 his station. Swiss thinks that the fellow is better bred than he 
 appears." 
 
 " So do I," answered Miss Tamworth. 
 
 " You do? well, that settles it. But Barston also fears that he 
 has committed some crime by which he lost caste. He will not 
 
 12
 
 178 TEE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 allow any one to question him about the past. I noticed that you 
 called him Mr. Butler just now." 
 
 " Did I ? He reminds me of some one I have known, but I can 
 not tell whom. What does Mr. Barston say of Kitty P 
 
 " A great deal. He knew her father, and has always taken a 
 great interest in her. Butler is courting her indeed they are so 
 far agreed that they will marry, no doubt. This makes us eager 
 to know more about him for the girl's sake." 
 
 " Probably you had better let them alone. Here is Eet j let us 
 ask her. Eet, what do you think of Butler ?" 
 
 " I think he is a rascal. I was looking for you. The dressing 
 bell has just rung. Come in." 
 
 " You Harwoods are a hard hearted, suspicious, obstinate set," 
 said Clare impetuously. I believe Butler is a good sort of man, 
 and if he wants to marry Kitty I mean to help him. There ! You 
 need not look so astounded. I have been allowing you to have 
 your own way so long that you are well nigh ruined. When we 
 get to Carlisle I am going to conspire with Kitty to circumvent 
 you. Come on, Eet." 
 
 " Did you find your letter, Johnny P asked Lady Lacy, as they 
 entered the hail. "Well, never mind it, dear." 
 
 CHAPTEE XXXIII. 
 Two YEARS LATER. 
 
 npHB events which have happened during this unrecorded in- 
 -JL terval do not affect the course of the present narrative mate 
 rially. After various adventures Mr. Barston found himself in New 
 York at the end of two years, and secured passage to Liverpool by 
 the Eoyal Mail Steamer Scotia. The only circumstance to notice was 
 his accidental meeting with a countryman in New York, one John 
 Hawder, whom he had known in his boyhood. Hawder's father 
 was steward of the Lacy estates, and the younger Hawder had 
 emigrated to America several years before. He was a widower 
 and had a child, born in the new country, and the sight of our 
 friend Barston was a bright spot in their dull lives. From 
 Hawder he learned that Mr. Butler, whom he recognized by his 
 description, had been in New York a year or two previously, in-
 
 TWO YEARS LATER. 179 
 
 dulging in evil habits without stiut. Barston hoped to learn 
 something of his early history from Hawder, but he knew only 
 some fragmentary portions of his- story that did not enlighten 
 Barston, but rather confirmed him in his distrust of the game 
 keeper. Hawder was about starting to take charge of a farm in 
 the interior of New Jersey, and knowing that Swiss would see his 
 kindred in Lavington, he gave him a post-office address to leave 
 with them. Barston rarely forgot anything, and this address was 
 useful to him later. 
 
 Shortly after Barston's departure from England Lady Lacy and 
 her friend, Mi^s Tamworth, went to Paris, thence to Switzerland, 
 where they spent the summer. There was no intelligence from 
 Mr. Barston for nearly two years. He was in the Confederate 
 States a large part of the time, and postal communication with 
 the outside world was attended with difficulties. He finally 
 escaped in a blockade-runner, bound for Nassau, but being chased 
 by Federal cruisers, was driven into the Gulf, and finally found 
 shelter in Kingston, Jamaica. Mr. Barston being unoccupied, 
 assisted in the ceremonies attending three tornadoes and one 
 small earthquake, and then sailed for Port Rico. Here he in 
 vested some sovereigns in sugar, which was duly shipped to 
 London, and forwarded thence to Lavington. The rector received 
 a brief letter from his friend, who wrote very hurriedly on the eve 
 of his departure for New York, and only advised him of this ship 
 ment, and requested him to have two barrels filled from the hogs 
 head, sending one to the Eed Hall, with his compliments, to Lady 
 Lacy, and the other to Ripple Farm. He promised to write at 
 length from New York, but as he sailed by the first mail steamer 
 after his arrival he did not fulfil his promise. 
 
 One bright morning the Reverend John Harwood was caught 
 round the waist on the main street of Lavington by a stalwart 
 man, with bright eyes and enormous beard, rudely shaken up and 
 actually hugged, to the great astonishment of two small boys, 
 pupils in the rector's Sunday school, who had just been patted on 
 their heads and made recipients of sixpence each. 
 
 " My dear, dear Parson !" said Swiss, " my heart is filled with 
 joy at seeing you once more 1" 
 
 " Welcome home, my dear Swiss," answered the rector warmly, 
 " I am truly happy to see you again. When do you embark, and 
 for what port 1 ?" 
 
 " I have done with the sea, Johnny. Have you any cold meat 
 and bread at your house ? I am famishing with hunger."
 
 180 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 . " That is jolly ! I have not had breakfast yet. Come on ! I 
 heard the train just now, but did not hope for this pleasure. I 
 am forlorn here now. Father is in London, Eet is in Scotland. 
 If your next ship does not sail for two days you can get a gti mpse 
 of them all." 
 
 " Get out with your quips, Parson," returned Swiss. " I tell 
 you I meditate no new flights. My confident expectation is to 
 spend the rest of my days on this blessed island. You ought to 
 be above assaulting a starving man. Do you know whether you 
 have any chops in your larder f 
 
 " Certainly, plenty of them ! Soyez tranquille ! Within ten 
 minutes your cravings shall be appeased. Where is your next 
 ship going f 
 
 " To Kamschatka ! I want a chaplain, and will take you. Here 
 is the rectory. Have you got a rectoress yet ? Why have you 
 not written to me these years ? How d'ye do, Bridget P 
 
 "Wilcome home, Mr. Lacy," said that hard featured female. 
 " The master tould me yees was coming, and ye'll find your room 
 in order. Breakfast is all ready, sir." 
 
 Mr. Barston, who was entirely humanized within an hour, plied 
 the rector with questions. The Ripple Farm people were prosperous 
 and unchanged, except that Tommy had increased in stature. Mr. 
 Harwood had been there about once a week, and usually partook 
 of curds. Mrs. Dawson had received her sugar and the Eed Hall 
 barrel had been forwarded, but Lady Lacy and her household 
 were at Stirling. Nellie had grown, and being petted by tbree 
 uncles and two grandparents, was totally ruined, but more charm 
 ing than ever. Miss Tamworth was still unmarried, and, in the 
 Parson's judgment, was a confirmed man-hater. Lady Lacy was 
 in excellent health, but wore habitually the chastened expression 
 that came with her widowhood. Johnny's profound conviction 
 was, that poor Bet's heart was buried in the cemetery of the Lacys. 
 Swiss thought he would try to dig it up, but was somewhat dis 
 comfited by the rector's gloomy views. 
 
 Mr. Butler had been remarkably erratic in his movements. He 
 had disappeared for a year or more, very soon after Barston sailed 
 in the Dixie. Then he had been visible again in Lavington, and 
 was usually attired in well made gentleman's costume. His habits 
 were possibly better. The rector had met him once or twice and 
 endeavoured to converse with him, but pumped nothing better 
 than monosyllables from him. About Kitty he positively declined 
 to talk at all.
 
 TWO YEARS LATER. 181 
 
 Kitty was a model of propriety and reticence. All the efforts 
 Mr. Harwood Lad made to ascertain the state of her mind had 
 been unavailing. She listened with great politeness and atteni- 
 tiou to his moral essays, but declined to criticise them. Lady 
 Morton and Ret had talked very kindly to her, and she expressed 
 great thankfulness, but did not say a word as to her intentions. 
 Miss Tauiworth steadfastly opposed this kind interference, and 
 the rector said " She patted Kitty on the back, in a figurative 
 sense, and in a most exasperating manner." 
 
 " The truth is, Swiss," said the rector, " I am beginning to think 
 that we have no right to annoy this girl any more. If she is not 
 able to take care of herself I am very much mistaken. Mother 
 says it is indecorous to proceed any further." 
 
 " That settles the point, Parson," answered Swiss ; " you a.re 
 always in peril when you run counter to the views of a good 
 woman. And in this special case Lady Morton is doubtless the 
 best judge. Did this fellow look like a gentleman?" 
 
 " I think he did and does. I cannot forget that he filled a sub 
 ordinate position in my Father's household, yet his manner is per 
 fectly unaffected and natural. There is a certain roughness in his 
 demeanour which might pass for eccentricity if one Jcneiv him to 
 be thoroughbred. He has not been educated, I think. In one of 
 my talks with him I quoted a line from Virgil, familiar to any 
 schoolboy, and he said, coolly, l I don't understand Latin.' If he 
 had not been of a good breed he would, perhaps, have concealed 
 his ignorance. My judgment is that he has been intractable and 
 violent in his youth, refusing to submit to lawful authority, and 
 has grown up to manhood without restraints, and is now hardened. 
 He talks grammatically and with a good selection of words usually, 
 though at times he indulges in regular sea lingo, as if that were 
 his native tongue. Altogether the man bothers me horribly." 
 
 " I am delighted to hear it," said Barston, " and assure you of 
 my genuine sympathy. I have never before encountered a man 
 who was able to keep me in constant suspense as to his status. 
 But 1 feel authorized to withdraw from the contest, and shall in 
 terfere wit li him no more. Indeed, if his habits are passably 
 decent, it will afford me great pleasure to aid him in any way, for 
 Kitty's sake. It would not be a kindness to help him to ruin." 
 
 " What have yon been doing, Swiss, in these two years ?" 
 
 " A multitude of things, my friend. I have been in many hos 
 pitals, trying to comfort wounded, sick and dying men. I have
 
 182 THE LACY DIAMONDS.' 
 
 been allowed to take last messages to bereaved wives and mothers. 
 I have learned many lessons of heroic endurance, the like of which 
 I shall never see again on earth. I could not fully appreciate the 
 sentiments of the men who resolutely faced untold horrors and 
 who nourished a constant expectation of final success in the very 
 face of death. Our fellows in the Crimea did about as good fight 
 ing as men could do, but there was no such manifestation of de 
 votion to a sentiment there. You have told me nothing about 
 Eoland." 
 
 " The old rascal defies the march of time. He is here, ready 
 for a gallop whenever you please." 
 
 " I will renew my acquaintance with him. I must go to Eipple 
 this morning. We'll lunch on curds. Eeturning, I invite you to 
 dine with me at Oakland " 
 
 " I accept." 
 
 " Then at nine-twenty I purpose taking the up train " 
 
 11 Are you mad, Swiss?" 
 
 " Sane, parson. But I must travel to-night." 
 
 " Whither P 
 
 " Towards the bleak north. To Stirling ! I am dying for a 
 sight of Nellie ! You will please give me full directions where to 
 look for the child " 
 
 " Better than that, my friend. I will go with you ! I, also, am 
 dying to see Nellie !" 
 
 CHAPTEE XXXIV. 
 
 STIRLING. 
 
 AMONG Miss Tamworth's possessions was a certain parcel of 
 land in the outskirts of Stirling. A few acres, cut off from 
 a farm which yielded her a small rental, were devoted to a cottage 
 and the needful outhouses, all enclosed by a hedge and shaded by 
 stately trees. It is probable that she spent a few mouths here, 
 .annually, only because of its proximity to the romantic scenery of 
 the lochs, and at the date of the present chapter she and Lady 
 Lacy were busily engaged in preparations for a visit to the 
 Trossachs, Loch Katrine, and possibly to Edinburgh. All this 
 country was new to Lady Lacy, and she looked forward to the 
 excursion with bright anticipations. The Wizard of the North
 
 STIRLING. 183 
 
 has invested all that portion of Her Majesty's dominions with 
 special interest, and Ret studied with great eagerness the map of 
 their projected journeys, noticing the succession of historic locali 
 ties, and promising herself unmixed pleasure at every step of 
 their progress. Later in the autumn they w ere to spend a mouth 
 at Clifton, where Miss Clare professed to live, though for six or 
 seven years she had been almost constantly a member of Lady 
 Lacy's household. These present and proximate visitations were 
 tacitly accounted a sort of return call, with the understanding 
 that they would then resume their former relations, Miss Clare 
 accepting Lady Lacy's hospitality for an indefinite time. These 
 young women, who had been together from childhood, were sis 
 ters in affection, and each was necessary to the happiness of the 
 other, sharing each other's secrets almost universally, but each 
 having one little nook in her gentle heart hidden from all mortal 
 scrutiny. 
 
 "Ret, my dear," said Clare, with elaborate indifference, "I 
 think it very probable that your reverend brother will be here 
 to-day or to-morrow." 
 
 " Indeed ! He said nothing to me of such an intention." 
 
 "Yes, he did. He said he desired to accompany you to the 
 Trossachs, and you told him we should go this week." 
 
 " Well. He is a good boy, my dear, and will not be trouble 
 some." 
 
 " All men are troublesome, Eet, especially in travelling. It is 
 true they make a great parade, getting tickets, attending to lug 
 gage, calling cabs and the like. But you can have all these things 
 done by your maid, or if you really need a man, you can always 
 get a railway porter, pay him a shilling and get rid of him after 
 the service is rendered. You can't pay the rector a shilling and 
 send him off!" 
 
 11 May I tell him your views," said Ret, amused. 
 
 " Oh, certainly. But I have already told him." 
 
 "How did he like your sentiments'?'' 
 
 " .My dear, all men are conceited. He said he was entirely 
 satisfied to take the position, so long as I made no exceptions. 
 But there was a pleasant smirk on his face, indicating his confi 
 dence in his own attractions. You can't get the conceit out of them 
 by the plainest statements !" 
 
 "If he should come and accompany us it will be for the sake 
 of escorting you, and I believe you are secretly delighted to have 
 the poor boy dangling after you you hard-hearted wretch. !"
 
 184 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 " Indeed, you are partly right," answered Miss Tamworth, toss 
 ing her head ; " he is better than most of the danglers, in that he 
 takes himself off for a quiet smoke about every hour, and one 
 gets short intervals of rest. Eet, I want to look at the Lacy 
 Diamonds !" 
 
 " That reminds me " said Lady Lacy. " Kitty !" 
 
 " My lady ?" answered Kitty from the garden. 
 
 " You are going with Nellie to drive presently. Go to Stirling 
 to the jeweller's here is his card and get my brooch. You had 
 better pin it in your collar for safety, securing the guard-chain; 
 cover it with your scarf, Kitty. Here is a half crown. He only 
 had to repair the guard-chain." 
 
 "Yes, my lady. The carriage is here now. Shall I go at 
 once P 
 
 " Yes. Now, Clare, you will have to wait Kitty's return. The 
 earrings are up stairs." 
 
 " And the necklace " 
 
 " Ah ! that is not here. My dear, you have seen these gaudy 
 toys a hundred times." 
 
 " I have not seen that necklace for half a dozen years." 
 
 " Nor I," answered Eet. There was a cloud upon her fair brow 
 which the quick eye of her friend noticed. She drew near, put 
 her arm around her neck and kissed her. 
 
 " Forgive my thoughtless folly, my love ! I fear I have given 
 you pain ! Ket !" she continued, vehemently, " I do sincerely 
 believe there is some dreadful curse about those diamonds ! 
 There! I have hurt you again! Shall I quit talking about 
 them?" 
 
 " Yes, dear, if you don't mind," said Eet quietly. " There goes 
 the carriage. Look at Nellie ! She is driving !" 
 
 " Yes, and if that great monster, Mr. Barston, comes back he 
 will teach her to swear at the horses ! What an amiable lunatic 
 the man is !" She was looking out the window and did not see the 
 little glow that spread over her friend's face. " Nellie says the 
 last time she rode with him she held the bridle, and he only 
 talked to that wild beast he rides. Nellie says the horse stands 
 dead still when he bids him. Ah!" she continued, with a little 
 shiver, " what a life the poor woman whom he marries will lead !" 
 
 "Suppose you undertake him, Clare?" said her friend, with 
 a little grain of spite. 
 
 "Never!" replied Clare. " Nobody knows where he is or where
 
 STIRLING. 185 
 
 he has been. It is quite probable that he has two or three wives 
 already in the outlandish countries he has visited. He looks like 
 a regular Bluebeard." 
 
 The innocent object of this vituperation was at that moment in 
 specting the horses in the stable of the "Castle" inn. He selected 
 a steed and was soon cantering down the street, seeking the road 
 that led to Miss Tamworth's cottage. A short distance from the 
 town a lane deflected from the highway, and led along the margin 
 of the beautiful Forth, and while Barston paused at the junction 
 of the roads a carriage approached from the opposite direction, 
 and he drew his horse aside to give it passage. A child in the 
 carriage tossed up her arms with a cry of delight at the sight of 
 him. 
 
 '* Cousin Lacy !" she said, " take me, take me !" 
 
 " My Nellie ! My darling 1 Will you come for a gallop with 
 me?" 
 
 " Yes ! yes !" said Nellie, struggling to reach him. 
 
 He took her in his arms, and restraining his restive horse he 
 directed Kitty to meet them at the same spot an hour later, and 
 then turning down the lane was out of sight in a minute. 
 
 " I thought you would have forgotten me, Nellie," he said, when 
 he drew rein after a gallop. " Why, you dear little witch, you 
 have grown a foot since I saw you." 
 
 " Yes," said Nellie, " I grow a little every day. Mamma says I 
 may have a little pony when I grow two more feet. But I like to 
 ride Roland with you." 
 
 ' How did you know me so soon, Nellie ?" 
 
 " I saw your eyes." 
 
 " Well, other people have eyes." 
 
 " Other people don't have your eyes," answered Nellie, posi 
 tively. " Your eyes say, 1 1 love Nellie,' and Nellie loves you 
 darely /" 
 
 Swiss covered her upturned face with his flowing beard. 
 
 " You shall have a pony before you grow another inch, baby. 
 I saw one in Mexico that will just suit you. I'll go back for it if - 
 need be." 
 
 " Don't want you to go back. I can ride Roland with you." 
 
 " Then I'll get you a Shetland. Or maybe you would like a 
 donkey ? There are some beautiful donkeys at Clifton." 
 
 "Don't think I like donkeys," said Nellie, doubtfully. 
 
 "You had better cultivate the liking, baby. Donkeys are very 
 numerous. But we will try for the Shetlauders."
 
 186 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 " Mamma says we are going to Clifton soon," observed Nellie. 
 " We might have a donkey first." 
 
 " Very well. There are plenty of donkeys on the Downs. Now 
 we will take another gallop. This brute is not like Roland." 
 
 When Mr. Barston reached the rendezvous his horse was minus 
 a shoe and limped painfully. He relinquished the child to Kitty, 
 catching a glimpse of her countenance, which wore a troubled ex 
 pression, arid he thought she looked wistfully at him. 
 
 " What is it, Kitty P he said, kindly. She placed the child on 
 the seat, and stepping out of the carriage came near his stirrup. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, Mr. Barston," she said, " but I know you 
 are a lawyer, and I know you will tell me the truth. Please tell 
 me what makes a marriage legal in Scotland." 
 
 " An affirmation before witnesses almost any form of state 
 ment will be binding. But " 
 
 "Excuse me, sir, please. Suppose two people are married 
 
 before witnesses by a magistrate " 
 
 " They are as firmly married as if by the Lord Bishop of Lon 
 don ." 
 
 " Suppose," said Kitty, again interrupting him, " suppose they 
 use feigned names'? Suppose they call themselves by other 
 people's names P 
 
 " Well," said Barston, reflecting, " if their identity can be estab 
 lished that does not materially alter the case ; but there are other 
 consequences, such as possible prosecution for fraud. It is never 
 safe to tell lies of any sort." 
 
 " Thank you, sir," replied Kitty, returning to the carriage. " I 
 have a friend who is very anxious to know the law, and I felt 
 sure you could tell me. Are you going with us, sir P 
 
 " No. My horse is lame. I must return to the inn and get an 
 other. Besides, Mr. Harwood is in Stirling and we will go to 
 gether. Good bye, Nellie !" 
 
 Arrived at the " Castle " Mr. Barston found two things : a note 
 from the rector, who had gone to call on Mr. Macdower, the 
 brother of the Presbyterian minister at Lavington ; a telegram 
 from Mrs. Dawson, saying Tommy was seriously hurt, and beg 
 ging his honour to come to Eipple Farm, if possible, at once.
 
 A COMPAGNON DE VOYAGE. 187 
 
 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 A COMPAGNON DE VOYAGE. 
 
 "rpHESE are hard lines," said Swiss ; "it is a just punishment 
 
 J- forlying. I told Johnny I wished to come here to see Nellie ! 
 I have seen Nellie, and nobody else ! They are going to the Trossachs 
 and the Lochs, and I thought I might go with them. Tommy is 
 the only son of his mother, and she is a widow. I wonder if the 
 whelp has dislocated his jaw ! Poor boy ! what a wretch I am to 
 talk in this fashion. Well ! The only atonement is to start by 
 the first train. Mrs. Dawson would never telegraph unless the 
 case were serious. Landlord! Have you a time table? When 
 does the first train south leave Stirling P 
 
 " In twenty minutes, sir." 
 
 " I am called away suddenly. Mr. Harwood will not be back in 
 time. Give him this despatch. Stay. I will leave a note for him. 
 While I write please get me a cab, and put my portmanteau in." 
 He sat down at the table and wrote a hurried note, enclosed the 
 telegram -in it, sealed and addressed the envelope, paid his bill, 
 got into the cab, and readied the station one minute before the 
 train started. And while Nellie was recounting to her mother 
 her morning adventures, the hero of them was gliding along, forty- 
 five miles an hour, towards Devonshire. 
 
 The porter who seized his portmanteau and rug when he dashed 
 into the ticket office, met him as he came flying out again. 
 
 "This way, sir! Smoking? Yes sir! First class, of course, 
 sir! This carriage, sir ! All to yourself, sir ? No, sir! One other 
 gent, sir. All right, sir ! Potmauto under the seat, sir ! Thankee 
 sir !" 
 
 Q^he other gent was in the opposite corner. He had his rug over 
 his shoulder, concealing the lower part of his face, while his wide- 
 a-wake hat was pulled down over his brows. He seemed to be 
 asleep. 
 
 Barstou merely glanced at his fellow traveller to see if he was 
 smoking. The train had come from above, and had only been two 
 or three minutes in the station. Probably this was a passenger 
 from farther north. Swiss noticed his well-shaped foot, his well- 
 fitting habiliments, and one white hand, ungloved, holding the rug 
 over his breast.
 
 188 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 " Gentleman, anyhow," he muttered. " This compartment is label 
 ed smoking, so I need not apologize if I blow a cloud. 1 wonder 
 if he is asleep ?" 
 
 He was soon enveloped in blue smoke. At the next station a 
 boy clambered up to the window, with a supply of yesterday's 
 "Times." Barston bought a paper and read steadily till there was 
 nothing left but advertisements. He did not care to talk, as his 
 mind was preoccupied, but he looked over at his companion once 
 or twice, but could not see that he had moved a muscle. At last 
 they rattled into the station at Glasgow. 
 
 " Tickets, please !" said the guard ; " all right, sir ! Ticket, sir !" 
 and he passed into the carriage. The sleeper put out his hand as 
 the guard approached. 
 
 " Lavington !" said the guard ; " all right, sir. This carriage goes 
 through, so both you gentlemen can keep your seats." 
 
 "Indeed!" thought Barston. "I wonder if my compagnon de 
 voyage is going to sleep all the way. He wakened very opportunely 
 just now, though I cannot see that he has moved anything but 
 his arm." 
 
 An hour or two later the train went roaring through a long tun 
 nel, and as they again emerged into the fading sunlight, Barston 
 glanced at his silent companion. He had half turned in his seat, 
 and the rug was pulled up on his shoulder and across his breast, 
 its folds covering his chin. The hat was still lower over his brow, 
 and nothing was visible of his face excepting his nose, and a 
 thick moustache under it. He had roused himself sufficiently to 
 make these changes while they were in the darkness of the tunnel. 
 
 Barston began to be interested. He was too thorough a gentle 
 man to evince any curiosity, and too thorough an Englishman to 
 volunteer conversation. It was clear that the other did not desire 
 an interchange of civilities, and his quiet was certainly not all sleep. 
 
 Through another long tunnel, and in Egyptian darkness. The 
 train was running slowly, approaching a station. Barston detected 
 the odour of spirits, and heard the gurgling, as the stranger im 
 bibed. Then there came the flash of a Vesuvius, and Swiss saw 
 by its glare the white teeth of his fellow voyager holding his 
 cigar. A puff or two and all was darkness again. As the train 
 drew out of the tunnel Barston was attracted by the lights in the 
 station, and when he looked again the other had changed his seat 
 and was now oil the same side with himself, his back to the engine. 
 The rug had fallen away and was spread over his knees, but his
 
 A COMPAGNON DE VOYAGE. 189 
 
 hat was cocked over to the right and his hand was supporting his 
 head. Nothing was visible now but the lurid tip of his cigar. 
 Two youngsters got into the carriage as the train stopped. One 
 took the seat between Swiss and the quiet traveller, the other in 
 the opposite corner. The guard came in, inspected tickets again, 
 and as he departed gave his final instructions. 
 
 "You two gents wot just got in change at Brummagen. This 
 carriage goes through to Exeter." 
 
 " Lost my matches, by Jove !" said the one in the corner. " May 
 I trouble you for a light, sir F 
 
 " Ya-as ! I guess you may," replied the stranger, with a decided 
 nasal twang. 
 
 " That is intended for Yankee," said Swiss to himself, " but it is 
 overdone, by the three kings ! Now, I will watch this fellow if I 
 keep awake all night !" 
 
 Watching was not needed very long, however. The new comers 
 talked a little, sometimes to each other and sometimes to Butler. 
 
 " You are from America, sir F said he who had obtained the 
 light. 
 
 " Ya-as." 
 
 " I think that is a lie," said Swiss to himself. 
 
 " Is the war still going on, sir F 
 
 " Ya-as." 
 
 " How long have you been in England, sir F 
 
 " Came a week or two ago, I guess." 
 
 " From North America, sir F 
 
 " Ya-as. Noo Yawk." 
 
 " I say, Dick, this gentleman can probably tell you something 
 about Horace. He is from New York. Did you happen to know 
 a young man name of Scroggins Horace ScrogginsF 
 
 " Guess not," replied the American gentleman. 
 
 " That is very strange. He went to New York, I know." 
 
 " Wa-al, there are about a million inhabitants in that village," 
 responded the other. " I calkilate 'twould keep a man busy to get 
 acquainted with 'em all in a life time." 
 
 " I think you would have noticed Horace, though," said the 
 young man after a little pause " or his wife. She is lovely ! She 
 was a nurse-maid in his mother's house, and he ran off to Scotland 
 with her and was married there. And he went to America from 
 Glasgow. None of his family would have anything to do with 
 him after that marriage."
 
 190 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 " Small loss to him," said the other fiercely, forgetting his nasal 
 twang. "What need he care about friends or family? Nurse 
 maid ! I have known nurse-maids a thousand times better than 
 your stuck-up countesses." 
 
 "Butler! by the three kings!" said Swiss inaudibly. "No 
 mistake about the trill of those r's. What a rage the fellow is in. 
 I begin to understand a little. He has been marrying Kitty, and 
 that accounts for his attachment to nurse-maids. Poor Kitty ! 
 That accounts for her eager questions, also. Why should he marry 
 her under a feigned name ? I need not watch any more. I'll go 
 to sleep." 
 
 He wound his watch, wrapped his rug around his nether limbs, 
 and propping himself up in his cushioned corner, was speedily 
 walking with Ket by the margin of murmuring rivulets, and amid 
 the warblings of birds, while she listened with eager attention to 
 the long, long story of his love. 
 
 He was wakened at last by the stopping of the train, and as the 
 porters rushed by with swinging lanterns, he heard them cry out 
 the name of the station next to Lavington. Mr. Butler was in his 
 corner, awake and watchful. 
 
 " My friend," said Barston, with kindly accents, " I know you.'' 
 
 " Do you f replied the other. 
 
 " Yes. You married Kitty yesterday, at Stirling." 
 
 Butler started. " What devil are you in agreement with," said 
 he, " that you know all I do as soon as it is done ?" 
 
 " Come," replied Barston, " let us lay aside this useless antago 
 nism. You have married the girl and I hope you will be kind to 
 her. Do you object to the interest I take in your wife, and in you 
 for her sake ?" 
 
 " What do you purpose now f ' said Butler, after a pause. 
 
 " Nothing that you do not approve. If you will allow me to 
 help you in any plans you have laid, I shall be glad to do it. What 
 do you purpose ?" 
 
 " I am going to America. Mr. Barston, I have tried to hate you, 
 but I cannot. You have thwarted me once and again, but I have 
 known that you were kind in it all. Now that I have married 
 Kitty, it is not likely that you will care to trouble me more. I 
 have no definite plans. If a time should come when you can aid 
 me, I will apply to you." He ground his teeth as he continued. 
 " Those cursed Harwoods have made themselves odious to me. All 
 of them ! And if I can damage any of them hereafter, I warn you 
 that I shall do it!"
 
 A COMTAGNON DE VOYAGE. 191 
 
 " We cannot be friends, then," replied Barston quietly. " Their 
 enemies are iny enemies. If you were not under the blighting 
 influence of some wrong, accomplished or intended some horrible 
 crime, 1 fear you would recognize and admire the nobleness of 
 Lord Morton and his family. We are near Lavington. Let me 
 say one word to you. I am a lawyer. Your marriage is certainly 
 legal, but you run the risk of compromising your wife, at least, by 
 marrying under a false name !" 
 
 " Who dares to say so?" said Butler haughtily. " It is false! 
 I married under my own proper name. It is true that I persuaded 
 Kitty to call herself by another name. But what do you know?" 
 
 " Nothing only that feigned names were used. No matter! 
 It might save you trouble hereafter if you correct the registry and 
 give Kitty's real name. It is no business of mine, and I only warn 
 you for your own sake. Your station in life may " 
 
 " Don't talk to me of names and stations. If I go to America 
 and stay there, perhaps I can make another name. I have been 
 there. There is a vast empire in their far west, where a man may 
 go and possibly forget his previous life. All of mine is one long, 
 dismal curse !" 
 
 "Listen to me," said Barston, as the train glided into the 
 Lavington station. " I am attracted to you by an influence that 
 I can neither understand nor resist. If you have done wrong, 
 surely atonement is possible. If you have been wronged, I will 
 stand by you with name and fortune until you are righted. Only 
 confide in me, and let me befriend you if it is possible." 
 
 " It is not possible !" replied Butler, with cold despair in his 
 tones. " I am partly criminal and partly the victim of the wicked 
 ness of others. I am not a lawyer, but I think it very likely that 
 your laws would take my life from me for a dozen violations of 
 them ! and yet my crimes are so covered that no witness of any of 
 them lives upon the earth ! I wish I had never encountered you. 
 But for you I could live upon my hatred of the race ! We part 
 here. God bless you, if there is such a Being, which I don't be 
 lieve !" 
 
 With a horrid laugh he pushed the door open, stepped out upon 
 the platform and disappeared, leaving Barston aghast at his words 
 and manner.
 
 192 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXXYI. 
 
 THE SECTOR'S SCOTTISH FRIEND. 
 
 rr^HE Reverend John Harwood had certain mission work in 
 JL Lavington, in which he was aided by the Reverend Andrew 
 Macdower, a minister of the Free Church of Scotland, who had a 
 flourishing congregation in that village. It was not exactly eccle 
 siastical work, and Mr. Harwood did not officially engage in it, as 
 the gulf between the church and dissenters was too wide to be 
 bridged, and the rector did not care to engage in a task so un 
 promising as that sort of architecture would prove. The pious 
 antagonism between the church people and "the others" was 
 latent in Lavington, partly because Lord Morton was a dissenter 
 and partly because the rector, though a staunch churchman, was 
 too liberal in his views to lead an assault upon the works of Non 
 conformity. 
 
 Mr. Macdower was a scholar of rare attainments, and as Mr. 
 Harwood was also a book-man, they readily fell into a warm friend 
 ship. They had amicable battles over their sectarian differences, 
 while their creeds were identical in almost every particular. For 
 a wonder they agreed in politics, both being staunch tories, the 
 rector going a little beyond the Scot, of course, and both being 
 annually lectured by Lord Morton, who was a liberal. It is 
 worthy of note that the scribblings they both indulged in upon 
 political questions were published in papers far distant from Lav 
 ington. 
 
 On the day of his departure for Stirling, Mr. Macdower called 
 upon him and charged him with messages to his brother. 
 
 " You must hunt up Aleck, Mr. Harwood," he said j " you'll find 
 him weel up in modern science. It would pain me to think you 
 had been to Stirling without seeing him." 
 
 " It shall be my first business when I get there," said the rector. 
 " While I am absent I rely upon you to watch over the mill school. 
 Don't allow the children to get astray in the mazes of dissent. If 
 you choose to instruct them in your Westminster theology I shall 
 not object, provided you don't dilute it with your modern rubbish." 
 
 " Ay, ay," responded the other theologue ; " if we can only get 
 the rising generation weel instructed in the Shorter Catechism 
 there will be little left of your bloated Establishment twenty years 
 hence !"
 
 THE RECTORS SCOTTISH FRIEND. 193 
 
 When Barston was gallopiug 011 the bank of the Forth, Mr. Har- 
 wood was exploring Stirling Castle. This was soon disposed of, 
 and as his engagement with Swiss was an hour later, he went in 
 search of Mr. Alexander Macdower, magistrate. That worthy 
 was at home, and received his visitor with the courtly grace of a 
 Scottish gentleman. 
 
 " I've heard so much of you, Mr. Harwood," he said, " from my 
 brother Andy, that I seem to know you. You are welcome to Stir 
 ling, sir, and I suld be happy if you would make my house your 
 home during your stay." 
 
 " I thank you, Mr. Macdower, but I leave to-day. My sister is 
 in the neighbourhood, and I hope to accompany her through your 
 lake country. I left your brother in good health, and have mes 
 sages to deliver about sundry matters. He desires me to say, 
 first, that the last speech of Mr. Gladstone's is a failure." 
 
 "And you can just tell him that be has no' made an original 
 discovery in yon direction. I have heard abune a dozen ignorant 
 cadgers say the same thing!" 
 
 The rector laughed. " That is a capital answer, and I shall not 
 forget it. We parted in a fight and he had the last shot. He 
 thinks the Westminster Confession contains all the theology that 
 man needs to steer clear of rocks and quicksands." 
 
 "He is no' far wrang," replied Mr. Macdower ; "may be ye 
 had better tackle Andy on some ither subject." 
 
 "Do you swallow the entire Confession, Mr. Macdower?" 
 
 " I diuna say that ! The Confession is no' inspired, ye ken, but 
 it is a safe body o' divinity. It says some things aboot the 
 creation that may be a little dubious. May I offer your reverence 
 a wee taste o' Scotch whusky F 
 
 " Many thanks, sir, but I must decline. My limited knowledge 
 of that beverage induces me to dislike it thoroughly !" 
 
 " Weel," said the Scot, " de gustibus non est disputandum, ye ken. 
 If ye canna appreciate Scotch whusky your education has been 
 neglected." 
 
 "It tastes," said the rector with a shudder, "like turpentine 
 diluted with peat smoke." 
 
 " There was a chap from your country," replied the magistrate, 
 " that I married the morn, who tuk a nip without blinkin' !" 
 
 " Married 1" exclaimed Mr. Harwood. " Oh, I forgot your 
 Scottish law. Do you find the warrant for Scottish. marriages in 
 
 your Confession, also F 
 
 13
 
 194 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 " Nay. It is a ceevil contract, ye ken, and is binding if per 
 formed by a magistrate. I am weel aware that you churchmen 
 look upon it as a sort o' sacrament." 
 
 " Not quite," replied the rector, " but we think it is more than a 
 civil contract. And so do you, I am sure. You say it was a 
 countryman of mine whom you made happy this morning *P 
 
 " I didna' say anything aboot the happiness. The leddy was 
 no' ill-looking, but she had that composed appearance which in 
 dicated a decided wull of her ain. She will be apt to rule yon 
 chap in spite of his beard, and he has plenty o' that. I didna 
 notice her much, as I was attracted by her diamonds. Hoot, 
 mon ! but she had a brooch on her neck worth twa thousand 
 punds, I should say !" 
 
 "Indeed!" said Mr. Harwood, rising and drawing on his gloves. 
 " Was it a single stone f 
 
 "Nay! It was composed of three stanes. They were held by 
 delicate gold work in the shape of lilies. The diamonds were set 
 in the mouths of the flowers." 
 
 The rector sat down again. 
 
 "Do you happen to remember her name f he asked, gradually 
 getting himself in hand, as he instinctively felt that an astound 
 ing revelation was imminent. 
 
 " Ay ! I remember Sir Walter's lines : 
 
 " Tarn worth tower and town ;" 
 
 it was Miss Clare Tarn worth." 
 
 " I have a curiosity to taste that whisky," said the rector, " if 
 not too troublesome." 
 
 The host produced a decanter and glasses with a celerity that 
 was admirable. Mr. Harwood poured out about a gill, and with 
 a polite bow to the magistrate, swallowed it. While he coughed 
 and choked, the Scot allowed a similar quantity to glide down 
 his throat, a drop at a time. 
 
 " Ye'll never learn to drink Scotch whusky," said he, discon 
 tentedly, " if ye bolt it in you fashion. It is a cruel waste o' raw 
 material !" 
 
 " Raw enough !" muttered the poor rector. 
 
 " Pardon me, my dear sir !" said Mr. Macdower suddenly, " I 
 didna see that you were ill ! Your cheeks are the colour of your 
 cravat ! Tak' another drop o' the dew." 
 
 " I am getting better, I thank you," said Mr. Harwood. " Did 
 you say whom it was that the lady married ?"
 
 THE EEC TORS SCOTTISH FRIEND. 195 
 
 "Ay ! a Master Lacy. I dinna mind his baptismal appellation. 
 Some outlandish name. He was in an unco' hurry to catch the 
 southern train." 
 
 " I must go, I think. This gentleman was an Englishman " 
 
 "Ay! from Lavington, he said. Must you go, sir? I am 
 proud to have made your acquaintance, sir," and as the rector 
 descended the steps he muttered, " deil tak' the mon! that shot o' 
 raw whusky was too much for him! He is no' accustomed to it, 
 he said, yet he tossed it off like a wild Hielandman!" 
 
 The Parson found Barston's note when he returned to the 
 " Castle Inn.'' When he opened the envelope the enclosure fell out. 
 It was a telegram from Mrs. Dawson, Lavington, Devon, to Mr. 
 Lacy Barston, Stirling, Scotland. "Tommy is very seriously 
 hurt, perhaps dangerously. Can your honour come to Ripple 
 Farm immediately ? He asks for you anxiously." Barston's note 
 was as follows : 
 
 " MY DEAR JOHNNY The enclosed telegram will tell you all 
 that I know. I start immediately for Lavington. It is a very 
 sore disappointment, but we cannot resist Providence. Please 
 explain to the ladies the cause of my hasty departure. If Tommy 
 is not fatally hurt I will return in a few days. Leave the plan of 
 your proposed route at the inn, or telegraph me at Laviugtou. I 
 feel like Moore's ' Peri,' who got a glimpse of paradise and then 
 had the door slam'd in her face! Affectionately yours, 
 
 "LACY BARSTON." 
 
 " This is wholly inexplicable !" said the rector. " I am bewildered. 
 Treachery? It is impossible! I would not believe Swiss guilty 
 of wrong if I saic him doing it. I should think it an optical 
 illusion. But he has married Clare Tarn worth, or I am mad! or 
 that Scotch rascal was drunk! The wisest thing to do will be to 
 see her and ask her what it means. Married ! And I have come 
 here solely to ask her to be my wife ! Are there two Clare Tarn- 
 worths ?" 
 
 The unhappy Parson got into a cab, and drove to Miss Tarn- 
 worth's cottage as rapidly as the Scotch cabby, inspired by an 
 extra shilling, could make his horse go. The ladies were at lunch 
 eon. As Miss Tarn worth came forward to welcome him, he was 
 the three lilies Ida/ing iu licr collar. The reader need hardly be 
 told that Kitty ran to her patroness at onco with the story of licr 
 marriage, and Clare took the brooch and pinned it in her owu
 
 196 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 dress for safety. As the rector glanced at the jewels, he remem 
 bered some quaint rhyme he had heard in his young days, and 
 shuddered. 
 
 Bet, the dear, sensible woman, placed a chair for Johnny next 
 to Clare, and taking her luncheon as fast as she could, excused her 
 self and left them at the table. She thought Johnny wanted Clare 
 and she almost thought that Clare wanted the rector. Her good 
 ness can be better appreciated when it is remembered that nothing 
 had been said about Bar&ton's non-appearance, and she was de 
 voured by a raging desire to know how he would greet her at their 
 next meeting. Miss Tamworth was too full of Kitty's secret, just 
 revealed to her, and also possessed by a secret consciousness of 
 the rector's attachment, and all her faculties were employed in 
 maintaining an air of utter unconsciousness, of course. So she 
 forgot Barston's existence. Lady Lacy never mentioned his name 
 at all. And the Eector was piously whispering to himself that 
 " there was certainly some curse about those infernal Lacy Dia 
 monds !" 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 Miss CLARE'S EXPLANATIONS. 
 
 npHE Eeverend John Harwood sat moodily sipping pale ale, 
 -L while his companion nibbled daintily at a cake. They were 
 a very handsome couple, having considerable liking each for the 
 other, and it is a horrid shame to leave them playing at cross pur 
 poses. Each looked conscious. Parson Johnny was thinking 
 of the speeches he had composed between Lavington and Stir 
 ling, and which he had thought out, very much as he " thought 
 out" his sermons, with due reference to the orderly sequence 
 of the argument. And, oddly enough, he was reminded of a 
 funeral discourse he had recently prepared, to be delivered on 
 the Sunday following the obsequies of a dying parishioner, and 
 which was totally lost for the nonce, in consequence of the fellow's 
 unexpected recovery. It is true that he still had the sermon, but 
 there was no certainty that it would be available when his parish 
 ioner did die, as the circumstances might be entirely different. 
 
 Miss Clare was burdened with Kitty's secret. There was enough 
 romance about the whole story of her marriage to cover all the
 
 MISS CLARE'S EXPLANATIONS. 197 
 
 objectionable features. The bridegroom had enjoined present 
 secrecj* upon Kitty, alleging family reasons, and this fact, coupled 
 with Mr. Butler's distingue appearance in his fashionable attire, 
 satisfied Miss Tamworth that his claims of gentle breeding wer^ 
 well founded. Kitty herself was considerably flustered, and her 
 story of the unexpected meeting with Butler, and the sudden 
 proposition, the hurried ceremony, and the assumption of a feigned 
 name (which Kitty did not reveal) her subsequent interview with 
 Mr. Barston and his assurance of the legality of the marriage all 
 these were jumbled up in inextricable confusion. Moreover, Miss 
 Clare somehow associated this rapid change of relations, and the 
 status of wifehood, with the rector's appearance upon the scene, 
 and wondered what she should say if Mr. Harwood made kindred 
 proposals to her. 
 
 " What has become of Mr. Barston P she said, at length. " "We 
 expected to see him with you." 
 
 The rector handed her the note which Swiss had left, and 
 watched her furtively while she read it. 
 
 " He would make a very indifferent sort of Peri, I imagine," she 
 said coolly, refolding the note. " Is Tommy the young man we 
 saw at Ripple FarmU I mean the one with a mouth." 
 
 " Yes. I think he has a mouth," replied the Parson. 
 
 " You are so charmingly lively this morning," said Miss Clare 
 with some asperity, "that you must have attended a funeral 
 recently !" 
 
 "On the contrary," said Mr. Harwood, "I am just from the 
 scene of a wedding !" 
 
 Miss Tamworth started. 
 
 "And the bride wore a brooch very similar to that you have in 
 your collar !" 
 
 Miss Tamworth blushed. Matters were growing serious. 
 
 " I am overwhelmed, Miss Clare. I beg your pardon, madame. 
 I meant to say, that this whole business was so totally unexpected, 
 and the secrecy and haste, and all the circumstances, shocking to 
 my mind, that I may be pardoned it' I violate ordinary rules of 
 politeness. I called at the magistrate's, Mr. Macdower's, by acci 
 dent this morning, and he told me of the marriage and the names 
 of the happy pair. Indeed, his description of the brooch convinced 
 me that the bride came from this house, and I did not need to hear 
 any names ! J suppose I have no right to complain but I cannot 
 but feel that I have been treated with little consideration."
 
 198 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 " I am very sorry to bear you say so," said Miss Clare, brushing 
 away the tears that started to her eyes. 
 
 " Forgive ine if I pain you !" said the miserable rector. " It was 
 far from my purpose. I would have thought, however, that you 
 held truer views of the marriage relation than, to regard it as a 
 mere civil contract, to be certified by a magistrate !" 
 
 " It was not my doing, Mr. Harwood. It I had dreamed that 
 you would so regard it " 
 
 "Oh, Clare!" 
 
 " Mr. Barston says," she continued hurriedly, " that the mar 
 riage is entirely legal. I had not thought of what you suggest, 
 but I know you are right, and I think I may promise to have the 
 ceremony duly performed in church when we go back to England. 
 It will be only a week or two . What is it, Nellie *P 
 
 Nellie, who had suddenly burst into the room, clutched a good 
 wedge of cake and filled her little mouth. Then she climbed up 
 on her uncle's knees, kissed him, tilling his whiskers and bosom 
 with crumbs, and when she had bolted the cake stated her busi 
 ness. 
 
 " Where is Cousin Lacy ? He said he was coming wid you, 
 Uncle Johnny." 
 
 " He has gone to Lavington, baby," replied the rector. " Here 
 is his note ; take it to your mamma." 
 
 Nellie took the letter and slid down to the floor. She took 
 another wedge of cake, and deliberately munched and swallowed, 
 apparently at the constantly recurring risk of strangulation, in 
 tently regarding her uncle and Miss Tarn worth as if she would read 
 their secret souls. They were both conscious of certain discomfort 
 under this watchful scrutiny. Then she shook the letter at them, 
 gravely nodding her pretty head, and fairly overwhelmed them 
 with her parting observation : 
 
 " I know what it all means !" she said with calm triumph in her 
 voice and manner "Donkeys!" and she stalked majestically out 
 of the room. 
 
 " I cannot say that Nellie is very complimentary !" observed 
 Miss Tain worth. 
 
 " No ! but so far as her last observation applied to me she was 
 very nearly right ! It appears to me that I must look very much 
 like a donkey. I certainly feel like one, and shall look out ibr this 
 tles as my regular fare hereafter." He brushed the crumbs from 
 his dress, rose from the table, and took his hat and gloves.
 
 MISS CLARE'S EXPLANATIONS. 190 
 
 " Are you not going to remain with us to-day, Mr. Harwood ? 
 You know we go to the Trossaclis to-morrow." 
 
 " Alas !" said the rector, " I must forego the pleasure 1 had 
 promised myself. I must give up this excursion and return to 
 Lavingtou and try to find comfort in the performance of my stated 
 duties. It would be utterly false in me to pretend that this morn 
 ing's business was of so little moment to me." lie spoke with 
 quiet dignity and composure, and Clare began to grow angry. 
 
 " Really, Mr. Harwood !" she said, " I cannot see that you have 
 cause for this distress. A marriage has been celebrated, and the 
 gentleman most interested says there are weighty reasons for the 
 informality and secrecy. All the forms required by law have been 
 observed, and the people are married hopelessly, if you like. If 
 you and Ret, with your inveterate Harwood obstinacy pray par 
 don me ! will still nurse your opposition " 
 
 "Say no more !" interrupted the Parson. " If you think I have 
 no cause to complain I am thankful ! It is so much relief at least. 
 Will you please make my excuses to Ret ? It will only be necessary 
 to say that I liud my clerical duties call me home at once. Good 
 bye ! I hope I need not say that I wish you all the happiness 
 that is attainable in this world and the next!" He took her hand, 
 pressed it and was gone. 
 
 She watched him walking rapidly down the path until he turned 
 into the highway. Then she ran up into Lady Lacy : s room with 
 streaming eyes. Ret was on the sofa just finishing the fourteenth 
 perusal of Mr. Barston's note, which she slipped into her pocket 
 with a guilty blush as her friend entered. 
 
 " Why, Clare ! My dear, dear Clare, what has happened I 
 Where is Johnny?" 
 
 " Gone away, inebriated, I think ; that is, I hope he is ! He drank 
 enough of that pale ale to make three men drunk ! He has been 
 doing nothing since you left but drinking ale and talking like a 
 lunatic ! I think it is awfully horrid for a clergyman to get into 
 such a state ! He is off to Lavington, telling some preposterous 
 story about his clerical duties. A nice state ho will be in to per 
 form clerical duties ! He will have delirium-thingamy on the 
 route, no doubt. Oh, Ret! I could tear his eyes out, and cry out 
 my own !" 
 
 "My dear!" said Ret, with wondering anxiety, "tell me what 
 it means ! what did Johnny say T 
 
 " Say ! Who could tell ichat he said, with his tongue so thick
 
 200 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 with ale. He has gone, I tell you gone after that precious Peri ! 
 Ha ! ha !" aiid she laughed hysterically through her tears. 
 
 "Clare!" said Lady Lacy, "you distress me very much. Can 
 you not give me a coherent account of your interview ?" 
 
 " Indeed I cannot, Eet ! I hardly know how it began or ended. 
 Mr. Harwood took me to task like a raging hyena, only because I 
 happened to know about a certain matter, told me in confidence ! 
 He found it out by accident, and why he should have raved at poor 
 me so venomously, I cannot imagine ! He would not allow me to 
 say one word, in defence or explanation. Here, Eet! take your 
 brooch ! I verily believe those horrid Lacy Diamonds are haunted !" 
 
 "This mystery is very vexatious, observed Eet!" 
 
 " Oh, those horrid men !" said Miss Tarn worth, with a vicious 
 shudder. "Eet, my darling, let us go into a nunnery ! We shall 
 thus get rid of Parsons and Peris and live at peace! Your brother 
 is the most ill-tempered man I ever saw ! I am not at all certain 
 that he did not swear!" 
 
 " I am sure you are not telling stories, Clare," replied Lady Lacy, 
 " yet if anybody else should tell me that Johnny was intoxicated, 
 and in a rage, and indulging in profane language, I don't think I 
 could believe the statement. I never knew him to be in a rage in 
 my life! and as for swearing! Oh, what would Mother say!" 
 
 " There, there !" said Miss Tamworth " you need not trumpet 
 the matter all over the world ! Of course he did not swear ! I 
 was joking about that. Heigho ! I don't feel much like joking, 
 either. You did not believe that nonsense about the ale. I only 
 meant to say that he did not eat any luncheon. Something has 
 happened to upset him, and he has gone after Mr. Barston to get 
 comfort. The Peri ! Eet ! how do you suppose he would look 
 with wings, flopping about the gate of Paradise ! What in the 
 world do you suppose the lunatic means, by his l glimpse of Para 
 dise?'" 
 
 CHAPTEE XXXYIII. 
 PHRENOLOGICAL,. 
 
 ME. BAESTONhad a friend in London, who had been his pre 
 ceptor, in his medical studies, and wbo was a man of very 
 extensive information and experience. In the scanty time between 
 the receipt of Mrs. Dawson's telegram and his departure from Stir-
 
 PHRENOLOGICAL. 201 
 
 ling, Barston managed to write a despatch, beseeching Dr. Cardon 
 to meet him at Lavington, to " attend a very serious surgical case 7 * 
 in the neighbourhood. Doctor Cardon had the same sort of appe 
 tite for surgical cases that a child has for sugar-plums, or a critic 
 for the gore of authors, and Barstou cunningly worded his des 
 patch so as to make the feast as attractive as possible. The train 
 from London arrived at Lavington at the same hour with Barston's 
 train, and he met the doctor on the platform, in the station. 
 
 "My dear doctor," he said, shaking his hand, "this is kind of 
 you. I am much interested in the poor boy, and was not willing 
 to trust him in less skilful hands. Leave your luggage with the 
 porter " 
 
 "Luggage!" answered Dr. Cardon, while he collected various 
 cases in a pile "luggage! You did not tell me what sort of a 
 case it was, so I have brought all my instruments !" 
 
 Barston had enough esprit de corps to know that the doctor 
 would entrust those precious cases to a porter about as soon as a 
 young mother would leave her baby in charge of a gorilla. Accord 
 ingly he assisted the doctor, while they were being transferred to 
 a cab, handling the nicely polished boxes with great tenderness. 
 When they arrived at the inn Barston proposed that they should 
 leave the instruments in the cab while they partook of breakfast. 
 
 " Not a bit of it !" said Dr. Cardon, " bring 'em in ! Who caii 
 tell whether that brute of a horse will bolt or not f 
 
 When they were bowling along the Exeter road under the level 
 rays of the morning sun, the doctor asked Barston to " describe 
 the case." Mr. Barston knew nothing beyond the fact that Tommy 
 was seriously hurt, and the surgeon made himself as comfortable 
 as he could, in his corner of the cab, and fell asleep. He dreamed 
 of dislocated limbs and of amputations, of delightful hours in hos 
 pitals and dissecting rooms, of saws, and knives, and tourniquets, 
 and when the cab stopped at Hippie Farm he awoke, refreshed 
 and cheerful. 
 
 It required very little time to get the facts. Tommy had pro 
 jected a visit to Jenny Potter, the daughter of a fisherman on the 
 coast. As Master Lacy could go down to the beach over the rocks 
 Tommy thought he could do likewise, although forbidden, and 
 missing his footing, he had rolled down to the beach, and was 
 brought home on a shutter. Some bones were broken, and Doctor 
 Holly had repaired the damage in that direction. Tommy was a 
 mere bundle of splints. He besought his mother to send for Mas--
 
 202 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 ter Lacy, when lie was first brought home, and she had yielded to 
 fiis urgeiicy, and telegraphed to Stirling. Since the despatch was 
 sent Tommy had been in a stupor, and, when Dr. Cardon arrived, 
 he was totally unconscious. 
 
 With practiced hands the doctor felt the ribs and spine of the 
 patient. These were unhurt. One arm was broken and a small 
 bone in one leg, and Dr. Holly had done all that was needful iu 
 setting and splinting and had " left the case." His brother prac 
 titioner rather objected to interfere, although assured by Mrs. 
 Dawson that he had left Tommy that morning, saying he could do 
 no more. 
 
 " Do you know where he went P asked Barston. 
 
 "Yes, sir; he has gone to Mr. Bottomry's." 
 
 lt It is only a mile or two," said Barstou. " I will go after him 
 and bring him back. Eoland is here j is he not, Mrs. Dawson P 
 
 " Yes, sir ; but there is no one here to saddle him." 
 
 " I will find some one," answered Barstou, moving to the door. 
 " Doctor, wait for me half an hour or so." ' 
 
 While Swiss was absent Doctor Cardon opened some of his 
 cases a -d "polished off" several ferocious implements with a 
 chamois skin. Mrs. Dawson looked on with dumb horror. She 
 had a vague idea that Tommy would be taken apart and set up 
 afresh when t'other saw bones arrived. Within an hour Dr. Holly's 
 gig rattled up and he and Barston reappeared in the sick room. 
 
 Dr. Garden's reputation as a surgeon was so well established 
 that Barston's apologies for bringing him were unnecessary. The 
 other was very glad to divide the responsibility of the case with a 
 gentleman of Dr. Garden's fame. Mrs. Dawson withdrew at a 
 hint from Barston, and as he was a quasi medico, both of the " reg 
 ulars " begged him to remain at the consultation. 
 
 " You will have the advantage of a very instructive clinic, Bar 
 ston," said Garden. u Do you remember the fellow in the Vienna 
 hospital, who was brought in reduced to a pulp P 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Well, this case is very similar. The boy has had an ugly 
 knock on the head." 
 
 " Several of them," observed Dr. Holly. 
 
 " Yes, doctor," replied the London surgeon, " and you have 
 dressed them all as skilfully as mortal man could do it : that is, 
 all except one." 
 
 . " I examined the cranium very carefully," said Dr. Holly. " I 
 have shaved his head, you see."
 
 PHRENOLOGICAL. 203 
 
 "Yes; and one strip of adhesive plaster is over the right organ 
 of aliinentiveness." 
 
 " Pardon me ! " said Dr. Holly, stiffly. " I do not know the 
 locality you name !" 
 
 "Ah !" said Cardon, "you miss a groat deal, doctor, by reject 
 ing phrenology. Now in my first examination of this youth I was 
 ver3' much struck with the splendid development of his masticat 
 ing organs. Look at this process ! It is a jaw that would crush 
 gravel stones! and his mouth is big enough to take in a sucking 
 pig at a bite ! Now nature never does things by halves. Know 
 ing this fact, and believing in phrenology, I was enabled to discover 
 an injury that escaped you, and no wonder, as you don't believe in 
 phrenology !" 
 
 "I am still entirely in the dark 1" said Dr. Holly. 
 
 "Of course! Don't be restless, Barston. The boy is just as 
 comfortable as an unborn infant. He is comatose, owing to a 
 small fragment of bone pressing upon the dura-mater!" 
 
 Dr. Holly started. 
 
 " Allow me to finish my explanation," continued Cardon ; " when 
 I found this maxillary," touching Tommy's jaw lightly with his 
 finger, " and this mighty opening for the reception of nutriment, I 
 immediately inferred that nature had a corresponding develop 
 ment of the organ of aliinentiveness, and as the right lobe was 
 fortunately in view, I looked in the proper spot, and the develop 
 ment was wanting !" 
 
 " Very possibly !" said Dr. Holly, dryly. 
 
 " Very impossibly, my dear sir !" returned Dr. Cardon. " It 
 would have been abnormal ! Not finding the organ well marked 
 on the right side I examined the left. If you will take the trouble 
 to look, doctor, you will perceive a decided protuberance on this 
 side ! Come look, Barston !" 
 
 " I thought that was a bump !" said Dr. Holly. 
 
 " So it is, my dear sir, vulgarly so called. I call it a phreno 
 logical protuberance !" 
 
 " I mean," said Holly, testily, " that I took it for a contusion." 
 
 "Ah! my dear sir, the contusion is on the other side, and has 
 made a depression which was totally indistinguishable except by 
 the aid of phrenological science! See! I remove the plaster, 
 with your permission. Now, doctor, please place your finger 
 here. Ah ! have I your permission to do a little trepanning!" 
 
 " Undoubtedly," said the other, overwhelmed. The London 
 doctor, smacking his lips, clutched his glittering weapons, and
 
 204 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 deftly Sawing a small hole in Tommy's head, picked out sundry 
 splinters of bone, and rapidly dressed the wound. 
 
 "I am going back to London by the first train," he said coolly, 
 as he repolished his implements and restored them to their velvet 
 couches. " Keally, Barston, this has been a very interesting case. 
 Nothing more is needed. The young man will be entirely con 
 scious presently, and he could not be in better hands than Dr. 
 Holly's. My dear doctor, it was simply impossible for you to 
 guess at that little injury, and I assure you my discovery is all due 
 to phrenology. The youth, in his fall, struck that spot on a round 
 stone. The blow splintered the bone but did not cut the skin ; 
 and then there are so many severe bruises and wounds on the 
 contiguous surface that they would very naturally attract all your 
 attention, not being interested in phrenological investigation. I 
 would merely suggest that it would be well to sustain nature with 
 generous fare. He will recover rapidly, and his appetite will be 
 ravenous. Notice the fine swell of the sound organ, doctor, on 
 the left lobe ! He is waking." 
 
 " Master Lacy," said Tommy, feebly, " I won't climb down them 
 rocks hany more! May I 'ave some curd?" 
 
 " Certainly," said Dr. Cardon, with his chest expanded and his 
 eyebrows raised in a triumphant arch. " Certainly j that is, with 
 Dr. Holly's permission." 
 
 Dr. Holly was exterminated. Dr. Cardon carefully repacked 
 his cases on the floor of the cab, and with a fifty pound note in 
 his pocket and a benevolent smile on his face, departed. Barston 
 followed him to the cab to get his final instructions. 
 
 " The old woman will see the boy fed," said Dr. Cardon. 
 
 " You mean his mother P 
 
 " No, I mean Dr. Holly ! Barston, this fee is absurd. But I 
 accept it, partly because you have had the benefit of a superior 
 clinical lecture. How did your patient get such a tumble ? How 
 high is the bank above the beach f 
 
 " About a hundred feet, I suppose." 
 
 " Well, his skull is thick or he would never have incurred such 
 peril !" 
 
 " Pooh, doctor !" answered Barston ; " I have been up and down 
 there forty times." 
 
 " Very likely. When I have your skull to trepan I shall use a 
 chisel ! Don't let the youth stuff himself too liberally at first. 
 There will be febrile symptoms anon. Dr. Holly will manage 
 judiciously."
 
 TOMMY. 205 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 TOMMY. 
 
 the day Barston sat by Tommy's bedside, encour- 
 aging him with cheerful talk whenever he was awake. 
 Tommy was conscience-smitten, because he had been warned 
 against the dangerous pathway, which he knew Mr. Barston 
 habitually traversed. The instinct that had prompted Swiss to 
 essay the passage at first would be described in Western Ameri 
 can parlance as " pure cussedness ;" but, knowing the route, in all 
 its parts, it was not unsafe to Barston, who had the eye and band 
 of a mountaineer, and who was an expert in all athletic exercises. 
 To poor Tommy the attempt was almost certain death, and he had 
 escaped fatal injuries by clutching at the stunted vegetation and 
 breaking his fall (and his bones) as he sped to the shingle beach. 
 
 "You see, Master Lacy," he said, after Dr. Holly left them, "I 
 thought it would save such a long tramp. Jenny I'm sparking 
 Jenny, sir lives just below the hill." 
 
 " But you must not try that route again, Tommy. How old are 
 you ?" 
 
 " Twenty last Christmas, sir." 
 
 " What does Jenny say to your courtship f" 
 
 " She likes it main well, sir." 
 
 " And what does your mother say ?" 
 
 " I 'aven't asked her, sir. I thought maybe you would tackle 
 mother." 
 
 "I will talk to her. Suppose your mother has some serious ob 
 jection to Jenny " 
 
 " She can't, sir ! Jenny makes 'eavenly dumplin's, sir. I was 
 goin' to get dumplm's when I fell down the rocks. And puddin's, 
 too. Mother gave me some of her new sugar to put on the dump 
 lin's, but the paper got mashed when I fell." 
 
 " Well," said Barston, "you must not talk too much now. Are 
 you comfortable ?" 
 
 " No, sir. My leg hurts, my harm pains me, and my 'ead feels 
 all up in a knot like. I'm main hungry, too." 
 
 " After to-day you shall have plenty to eat. You will be fever 
 ish to-day, the doctors say " 
 
 " Doctors!" said Tommy j "are there two?"
 
 206 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 " There were two. But Dr. Cardon has gone back to London. 
 I am going to stay here until you are better, or I will ride down 
 every day if I go to Lavington. See if you cannot go to sleep, 
 and I will go talk to your mother." 
 
 " Master Lacy !" said Tommy, " before you go, please tell me 
 what that Lunnun doctor did to my 'ead." 
 
 " He sawed a little hole in it !" Tommy snapped his eyes and 
 shivered. " He wished to see if you had any brains. You thought 
 you could go over the rocks because I did it ? Haven't you seen 
 me go up the long ladder at the barn, with my hands, without 
 touching the rungs f 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " Can you do it ?" 
 
 " No, sir ! nor nobody else only you. Fll never go near them 
 rocks again !" said Tommy, solemnly. 
 
 Barston found Mrs. Dawson in the big kitchen. She was intent 
 on hospitable cares, expecting her landlord to dine at Eipple. Since 
 her boy had been aroused from his stupor her mind was con 
 siderably relieved, though she was still doubtful about the damage 
 to his limbs. 
 
 " You may dismiss your anxiety, dame," said Barston, seating 
 himself by her side, " Tommy will get well, but will require some 
 nursing. What do you think of getting Jenny to help you !" 
 
 "I dunno, Master Lacy," she answered; "does Tommy want 
 her ? I think he might be satisfied with his old mother !" 
 
 " He has not asked for her. But it would be a relief to you, I 
 fancy. You know he cannot move about for weeks. What sort 
 of a girl is Jenny ?" 
 
 " Oh, she is a good enough sort of girl," replied Mrs. Dawson, 
 discontentedly. "Tommy has been courting her, I s'pose. But 
 he is only a baby, and she is a slip of a girl." 
 
 " They are both tolerably well grown babies. It struck me that 
 Tommy might take Ripple Farm on a sub-lease from you, if he 
 had a wife, and as he would not marry any girl that you did not 
 recommend, perhaps it would not be amiss for you to have her 
 here for a week or two and study her temper. I think she is a 
 pretty, modest girl, and would probably make a good wife for 
 Tommy. Nobody can have Eipple while you live, and I will not 
 consent to any arrangement that does not leave you mistress. It 
 will be more pleasant for you to have Tommy for your foreman 
 than any other. I see some eggs there looking fresh as daisies. 
 If you would allow me to say what I would like for dinner ."
 
 TOMMY. 207 
 
 "Indeed, Master Lacy, you would take a load off my mind. I 
 have been trying to think what in the world I could get for you." 
 
 " Bacon and eggs ! I am going to the village, and will send up 
 a fish. Then a curd, and a mug of your home-brewed would 
 make a dinner for a king* I had a substantial breakfast and will 
 abstain from luncheon, and so at three o'clock I hope to dine. I 
 expect to buy the fish from Jenny." 
 
 " Well, sir," said the dame, " you might ask her to bring it up. 
 She will be ready enough to come, no doubt ; and if she could stay 
 two weeks you might ask her mother maybe Tommy will get 
 tired of her by that time, or she get tired of him ; if you think 
 children like them ought to be courting." 
 
 " Tommy will be twenty-one next Christmas," observed Barston. 
 " As for the courting, you can manage all that when you get the 
 girl here. I am so ignorant of that business that I cannot give 
 any advice. But the doctors agree that Tommy will be feverish 
 and restless, perhaps for some days, and you require help to nurse 
 him properly. I can easily find some other girl in the village if 
 you don't want Jenny." 
 
 " Oh, no, sir ; let her come." 
 
 " I could send her mother, probably," said Barston, reflecting. 
 " Probably that would be better. She has more experience." 
 
 " And she has half a dozen brats, besides her man ! No, sir. 
 Better send Jenny. I am curious to see the girl anyway." 
 
 " Have your own way then, dame," said Barston, with an air of 
 resignation. " But don't tell Tommy. Let us surprise him." 
 
 "That was a bit of diplomacy," said Swiss to himself, as he 
 descended the face of the cliff. " As a general rule you are safe 
 when you oppose obstacles in the way of women. The dear angels 
 like to overcome difficulties. I wonder if I shall have to manage 
 Bet in that way if I ever get her ! Here is my Proseuche !" Yield 
 ing to the conceit, which he did not attempt to analyze, he drew 
 off his boots and sat down at the foot of the great boulder. Here 
 he rested, with his face upturned to the bright sky. 
 
 " I have all things, and abound 1" he said at last, lifting his 
 hands towards the heavens, "and every expiration should be a 
 psalm of praise. Yet I feel that some trial is before me still. Oh, 
 Merciful ! give wisdom and strength as 1 shall need !" and then, 
 with passionate earnestness, as ho stood upright, " in Thy time 
 and in Thy way give me my darling, my Ret 1" 
 
 And as he passed on downward, from crag to crag, the pleasant
 
 208 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 plash and murmur of the little streamlet followed him, fretting 
 over its rough bed, dropping in tiny cascades, spreading out in 
 miniature lakes, or gliding swiftly over long reaches of smooth 
 rock, it sang the same monotonous song, a succession of echoes of 
 his last word" Ket, Eet, Eet !" 
 
 Jenny was in the porch of the cottage, behind the rough bench 
 that held her scaly merchandise. She knew Master Lacy, and 
 put her apron to her eyes as he approached. 
 
 " I want the best fish you have, Jenny," he said, " and I want 
 you to take it to the farm. Where is your mother P 
 
 " Here I be, your honour," said Mrs. Potter, waddling into view, 
 and dropping a fat curtesy. Two or three chubby children fol 
 lowed her, and a baby somewhere in the interior squalled dismally. 
 " Whist, babby ! Eun in, Jenny, and rock him !" 
 
 " Ah, Mrs. Potter, I am about to ask a favour. Tommy Dawson 
 is hurt, you know " 
 
 " Yes, sir ; my Sam helped carry him home. Is he hurted bad, 
 sir P Jenny lingered and the baby squalled. 
 
 " Not dangerously. He will get well " Jenny threw up her 
 
 hands and ran in, and the baby subsided j " but," continued Bars- 
 ton, "he has broken some bones, and will be abed for weeks. 
 Can you spare one of your children to help his mother nurse him ? 
 What a splendid sole ! I must have that for dinner ! Can you 
 send it to the farm P 
 
 " Surely. Would Jenny do, sir ? The others are na old 
 enough. And Jenny sells the fish, too. I can ill spare her." 
 
 "I will pay her a pound a week, dame," said Barston; "or 
 rather I will pay you." 
 
 " Weel!" said Mrs. Potter, who came from the canny north, "I 
 canna' gainsay your honour. Ye'll count the day i' the wage P 
 
 " Certainly. And here is a week's pay in advance. Can she 
 carry the sole with herP 
 
 "Hoot, ay! The gowd is bright and bonny! How much? 
 What your honour pleases, just. I'll no chaffer wi' you aboot the 
 fish. Tak' it at your ain price, sir. If I had it in Lunnuu 
 'twould fetch half a crown." 
 
 " There is the half crown, dame. Take good care of that baby. 
 I think he will make a great singer when he is grown !" 
 
 " Ay, ay ! My Sam is a gay singer, though he's a bit hoarse 
 wi' the salt water. I'll send Jenny as soon as she gathers some 
 cla'es. Gude mornin' to your honour ! Are ye gaun to walk abune 
 the cliff? The tide will be in by noon."
 
 SOME REVELATIONS. 209 
 
 " I am going out to meet it,' ? answered Barston. " The sea and 
 I are old friends. Good day, dame !" 
 
 " I was a fule to say auglit aboot the half crown," said Mrs. 
 Potter, as Swiss departed, "if I had held my auld jaw he'd a gin 
 me three shilliii' ! Here, lassie! Awa' wi' you. Gather up some 
 duds and gang to Eipple. Ye're to abide there twa weeks to help 
 his rnither nurse your Jo. Ye'll no want that blue gownd P 
 
 " Oh, mother ! I'll be there two Sabbath days P 
 
 " Aweel tak' it alang, lassie. But gin you do ony dirty wark, 
 dinna spoil your cla'es ! Ye look weel plea-sit to leave your puir 
 auld uiither an' the bairns." 
 
 "Oh, mother, you did not fall down the cliff and get hurted," 
 said Jenny j " besides, mother, a pound a week " 
 
 " Go 'lang wi' your clatter, lassie. Ye need na just chatter aboot 
 the pound. I'll put it awa' for you again your weddin'." 
 
 After Swiss dined he looked in upon the wounded youth. 
 Jenny was seated at the head of the bed, blushing a little, and 
 knitting a little, and talking in a low tone. Tommy's nose and 
 chin, which had escaped abrasion in his fall, were separated by 
 an interval of about ten inches, owing to the chasm made in his 
 countenance by his pleasant smile. 
 
 Swiss lighted his cigar and strolled out towards the main road. 
 A great oak stood near the stile, and under its shade he sat and 
 smoked. A cloud of dust came down from Lavington, and a 
 horseman with it, and as he drew rein at the stile and the dust 
 blew away, Swiss saw the rector, whose comely countenance was 
 shadowed by gloom and anger and deep distress. 
 
 OHAPTEE XL. 
 SOME REVELATIONS. 
 
 AS the horseman approached, Barston began to sing in a 
 plaintive minor 
 
 " Who travels along this road so late, 
 
 Compagnon do la Marjolaine, 
 Who travels along this road so late ? 
 Always gay 1" 
 
 " But that last line is false. He looks as glum as a sexton ! 
 What a funereal aspect I My dear Johnny, is aught amiss f The 
 
 14
 
 210 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 ladies ! Nellie ! Speak, man ! Your silence is portentous !" As 
 he spoke he threw the gate open, and the rector rode in the lane 
 and dismounted. 
 
 " Nothing the matter, Barston," he said, not noticing his friend's 
 extended hand. " Nothing amiss, except with me !'" 
 
 Barston peered anxiously in the rector's troubled face, secured 
 the horse by throwing the bridle over a bough of the tree, and sat 
 down on the stile by Mr. Harwood's side. 
 
 " Can you tell me, Johnny ?" 
 
 " Yes ; if you need to be told. Oh, Swiss ! how cruelly you 
 have wounded me !" 
 
 " I ?" said Barston, astonished. " I ! cruel, and to you ?" 
 
 " Yes, cruel ! Where was the need of your secrecy, your de 
 ception ? I cannot believe it of you, Swiss, although I know the 
 miserable truth." 
 
 " What do you mean, Johnny ?" said Swiss, patiently. 
 
 "I mean your work in Stirling! Your cunning device to get 
 rid of me, sending me to the castle ! and then your abrupt flight 
 after you had thoroughly befooled me, and made me turn myself 
 into a donkey ! The very child could see it ! She called me a 
 donkey ! And before your your wife, too !" 
 
 Barston's eyes dilated. 
 
 " This marriage, Swiss ! It is horrible every way ! What do 
 you put on that astonished expression for ? Do you know nothing 
 of a secret Scotch marriage in Stirling yesterday f 
 
 "Yes. I know of a marriage. It was not exactly according to 
 conventional rule, but I know it is legal. Too late to resist the 
 fates, Johnny ! I suppose it had to be." 
 
 "And why did you not tell me H What fiend prompted you to 
 deceive your friend? Oh, Swiss, I could not have so used you, if 
 my life depended upon it." 
 
 Swiss took out his pocket-book and rapidly wrote several rows 
 of figures upon a blank leaf. He then tore out the leaf and handed 
 it and the pencil to the rector. 
 
 " Will you oblige me by casting up that sum f he said, politely. 
 " I am anxious to know the total." 
 
 The rector glanced at the paper a moment, and then wrote the 
 addition at the bottom, beginning with the left hand figure. Bars- 
 ton gravely examined the sum, nodded his head, and thre\v the 
 paper on the ground. 
 
 " Excuse me, Parson !" he said, gently, " but I noticed that you 
 added from left to right. Is that your usual habit V
 
 SOME REVELATIONS. 211 
 
 " Certainly. I always add all the figures at once. It is easier 
 and more accurate. That is, more certainly accurate." 
 
 " The best writers upon psychological phenomena," said Swiss, 
 oracularly, " agree that the mastery of figures is a proof of sanity. 
 Xow, the ability to add sums of five figures, and five rows of them 
 at one operation of the mind, must demonstrate the normal condi 
 tion of the mental faculties. It is true that there have been cases 
 well authenticated, in which this wonderful mastery of mathemat 
 ical problems was manifested by idiots ! But, so far as I know, 
 tbis power has never been shown during temporary derangement. 
 It would contradict the most firmly established theories of psy 
 chology. The mental organism may, however, be permanently de 
 ranged in some of its parts. And analogy seems to teach that as 
 a man may be blind, and yet hear, so he may be able to cypher, 
 and yet insane ! However, a more satisfactory solution of the 
 mystery may be found in a different form of mania, such as de 
 lirium tremens. "Johnny!" he continued, suddenly, "excuse 
 me, but have you had anything unusual to drink lately ?" 
 
 "No! certainly not ! What do you mean by this exhibition of 
 lunacy? Stay! Yes, I had! That Scotch wretch that married 
 you gave me some stuff that he called " Hieland jew." I verily 
 believe it poisoned me ! I have not been in my right mind since, 
 and I have a constant taste of turpentine in my throat." 
 
 "Ah !" said Barston, greatly relieved, " slightly inebriated ; well, 
 we are progressing. And now to dispel the mists from your poor 
 mind. First : I am not married to any Scotch wretch !" 
 
 " Who said you were? Are you married to Clare Tarn worth T 
 
 " Whew !" said S^iss, with a prolonged whistle. " Why, Johnny, 
 I should as soon think of marrying the dev elopement of matured 
 maternity, known vulgarly as Satan's grandmother." 
 
 A flash of joy spread over the rector's face ! "Oh, Swiss, I know 
 you are not lying ! I must be drunk, I suppose ! Still, the com 
 parison is not flattering to Miss Clare !" 
 
 " I mean no disrespect to her, Parson," answered Swiss, coolly. 
 " I only mean, you blind, inebriated mole, that I do love another 
 darling, precious, peerless woman. If I ever marry, I shall marry 
 her. Miss Tamworth ! Why, you deceitful villain, do I not know 
 that you are dying for her yourself ! How dare you talk such bosh ? 
 But it is not you, it is Scotch whiskey the l Hieland jew' that 
 speaks. Oh, Johnny, do you not know that my soul is wrapped 
 up in ItetT
 
 212 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 " Eet! Swiss, what can I say, dear brother? What joy it would 
 give me to call you brother indeed. Eet ! Alas ! Swiss, her heart 
 is in the tomb." 
 
 " Is it ?" said Swiss, indifferently. " Well then, I will go into 
 the tomb after it. It is too precious a heart to stay in such an 
 unwholesome locality. But, Johnny, you must not tell. If I get 
 Eet, it must be by my own prowess. I had to tell you." 
 
 " I will not say a word, Swiss." replied the rector, slipping his 
 arm around his friend's burly form. " Now, tell me what that 
 marriage means ?" 
 
 " Kitty and Butler were married, I presume," answered Bar- 
 ston. ^ For some unknown reason Kitty assumed some other name." 
 
 u And Butler, too," said the rector. 
 
 " Did he ? Well, I met Kitty afterwards. I had been taking a 
 gallop with Nellie. Kitty plied me with eager questions touching 
 the validity of Scotch marriages under feigned names, and I in 
 ferred that she had l gone and done it.' By the bye, I noticed 
 Lady Lacy's brooch on her breast. When I got back to the inn I 
 found Mrs. Dawson's telegram. I left it for you, and you know all 
 the rest." 
 
 " Donkey !" said the Parson, reflecting. " That is exactly the 
 word. If I had not been drunk, or a donkey, I should have known 
 better than to abuse that angel ! I don't know what I said to her, 
 and I am afraid to look her in the face again !" 
 
 " You mean Kitty f said Swiss, puzzled. 
 
 "Kitty be bio wed!" said the rector in wrath; "I mean that 
 dear, injured, insulted Clare ! Swiss, I was a regular brute. I 
 scarcely saw Eet at all, and after saying the rudest things I could 
 think of, I told Clare I would not go to the Highlands with her, as 
 I had clerical duties calling me home ! Oh, what a precious don 
 key !" 
 
 " Don't be calling young ladies such hard names, Parson," said 
 Barston. " Your qualifying adjective hardly atones for the uncom 
 plimentary noun. Besides, it is specially mean, as she is not here !" 
 
 The rector gazed at Barston's sober face vacantly. 
 
 " What did you mean, Johnny, by Butler's assumed name ? 
 did he take my name ?" 
 
 Yes." 
 
 " Did you see it ?" 
 
 11 No. Macdower, that is, the magistrate who married them, 
 said it was Clare Taimvorth and Lacy something. He could not 
 remember your patronymic ; said it was outlandish." 

 
 SOME REVELATIONS. 213 
 
 " That is queer, too," said Barstoii, thoughtfully. " One of niy 
 breed had a castle iu oldeu times within five miles of Stirling, and 
 the ruins of ' Barstou's Hold ' are still there." 
 
 " 1 am not sure that Macdower did not reverse the names," said 
 the rector, trying to recall the interview ; " perhaps he said some 
 thing Lacy." 
 
 " Where are you going F said Swiss, as the rector led his horse 
 from under the tree. 
 
 " Back ! To Lavington now, to Stirling to-night, to the Tros- 
 sachs to-morrow, and I shall give no sleep to my eyelids until 
 Clare forgives me." 
 
 " And your clerical duties F said Swiss, slyly. 
 
 " I leave them in your hands, Swiss. If you will put on a gown 
 you may preach for me. !Not in the church, however ; but you 
 may invite the congregation out in the churchyard, and give them 
 some of your latest vagaries !" 
 
 " I am afraid they have had some of them at second-hand, 
 Johnny, already," said Swiss, with cool impudence. 
 
 " That is true," said the candid Parson, " but I always had quo 
 tation marks in the written sermon, Swiss. Good bye, you dear 
 old rascal ! I love you dearly !" 
 
 As the rector galloped away, raising another cloud of dust, Bar- 
 stou reseated himself on the stile and lighted a fresh cigar. 
 
 " It is a queer story," he muttered 5 " what design had the fel 
 low in taking iny name? and he swore with such a loyal air that 
 he had not assumed a name ! How could I be deceived by his 
 bare assertion ? I remember his haughty manner, too, and thought 
 he looked so thoroughbred while he was lying ! Bah ! I must not 
 trust my instincts so implicitly hereafter." 
 
 He leaned back against the trunk of the huge oak, pulled his 
 hat over his face and smoked, his mind filled with a thousand 
 conflicting thoughts. A step aroused him, and looking over the 
 hedge he saw a pedestrian coining up the road. Barstou was con 
 cealed by the trunk of the tree, and he sat quietly until the man 
 passed him, walking with springing step in the direction of Laving 
 ton. There was something in his gait that attracted Barstoii, and 
 he gazed after him, fascinated. As Butler, for it was he, disap 
 peared where the road turned, Swiss slipped down from the stile 
 and threw his cigar away; his eyes were ablaze and his face pal 
 lid as he muttered : 
 
 " Elbert Lacy ! by the three kings l n
 
 214 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 CHAPTEE XLI. 
 THE RECTOR'S CHASE. 
 
 fTlHE horse that bore the rector so rapidly from Eipple Farm 
 -i- could not speak English, and he therefore did his swearing- 
 in snorts that were perfectly intelligible, whenever Mr. Harwood 
 dug the spurs in his flank. There was no need of haste either, as 
 no train would leave Lavington for two hours. When he arrived 
 at the rectory, he busied himself with preparations for his return 
 journey, and partook of a substantial dinner with good appetite. 
 At last the hour of departure came, and as the train passed out 
 of the station, he began to regret that he had not insisted upon 
 bringing Barston with him, to beguile the tedium of the journey. 
 " There were so many things to consult him about !" he thought, 
 " and he could have talked to me about Ket, and listened to me 
 talking of Clare. Poor fellow ! He does not know how hopeless 
 his case is, and I could not bear to tell him. I have tried forty 
 times to get Eet to talk of him since he saw her, but could never 
 induce her to mention his name. She has no idea of his mad pas 
 sion either, and as soon as he blurts it out, which he is sure to do, 
 she will take care that he has no second opportunity ! I could 
 not even get her interest awakened in that lost letter, in which he 
 sent her a lot of messages. I must certainly warn him before he 
 sees her, and tell him the exact truth about her sentiments. He 
 looked so serene when I hinted that she cherished Jack's memory 
 so tenderly, that it would be cruel to enlighten him. Poor Swiss 1 
 He has forbidden me to speak of his hopes to Eet, but I can at 
 least sound his praises to her. It is a good thing that she is so 
 patient a listener, anyhow. 
 
 " I wish I could feel as serene touching my approaching expla 
 nations to Clare ! What can I say ? Swiss thinks that dreadful 
 whiskey was to blame. Suppose I adopt that hypothesis ? It is 
 worth a trial 1 I'll do it," 
 
 Then the rector fell asleep and dreamed that he had Barstou and 
 Eet before him at the altar. He went all through the marriage 
 service, Mr. Butler giving the bride away. When it was all done 
 and he approached to congratulate Eet, behold it was Clare ! He 
 had made a mistake, and got the wrong lady ! While he stood 
 stupefied, and wondering how the error could be rectified, Nellie
 
 THE RECTOR'S CHASE. 215 
 
 came waddling up the aisle and stood before him, nodding gravely 
 and regarding him with her peculiar, steadfast gaze. Then point 
 ing to Clare and to him alternately, she said, " Donkeys !" and 
 waddled out of the church. He was thoroughly miserable, and 
 looked at Mr. Macdower's coming up through the floor of the trail, 
 sept as a very natural proceeding. And when the Scot, with his 
 eyes twinkling, offered him a bottle of "jew," he felt impelled to 
 accept the detestable draught. Before he swallowed it, however, 
 the church door banged, the bell rang, and the old sexton bawled 
 in his ear " Ticket, please !" 
 
 " Where are we, guard f he inquired, shaking himself awake. 
 
 " Brummageu, sir ! Ticket, sir ! Thankee sir, all right 1" and the 
 door banged and locked. 
 
 " That sort of dreaming won't do !" said the rector, " that Scotch 
 rascal had almost got the stuff" down my throat ! I believe it 
 would have choked me, even in a dream." 
 
 In the gray morning light, the tall chimneys of Glasgow appear 
 ed. The rector had decided to reverse the route that the ladies 
 projected, hoping to meet them, as he could not overtake them. 
 They were to stop at the " Queen's Hotel" in Glasgow, and he was 
 rejoiced to find upon inquiry that they had not arrived. By the 
 first train for Loch Lomond he was off again, and when at length 
 he was on board the little steamer, and gliding over the surface of 
 the loch, he felt sure that he had them before him. Arriving at 
 Inversuaid, he learned there was a coach due from Loch Katrine, 
 later in the day, and it was possible that the ladies might arrive, 
 and proceed to Glasgow that afternoon. He decided to wait. 
 
 It was hard work. The boots, who was supposed to know every- 
 thing, informed him that the coach would arrive in two hours. 
 One hundred and twenty minutes to be employed in some way. 
 He would climb the mountain behind the inn. It was called Ben 
 jamin something. The view from the summit would certainly 
 repay him for the toil, and the time would be sped at least. It 
 was a small affair, but would occupy sixty minutes, anyhow. 
 
 Fifteen minutes' brisk walking brought him to a halting place, 
 and he was quite content to sit on a fragment of rock and rest 
 awhile. He seemed to be rather farther from the summit than 
 when he began the ascent. But the placid sheet of water, spread 
 out at his feet, was very beautiful, and as the great body of the 
 loch was hidden by a projecting crag, he would surmount that, and 
 then enjoy a wider view. Panting, after a prolonged scramble, he
 
 216 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 sat down again and took a large drink of lovely scenery. The 
 summit of this Benjamin was still provokingly distant, and he 
 began to donbt his ability to reach it and return within two hours. 
 He looked at his watch. The two hours were gone ! 
 
 The rector never knew how he quitted Benjamin. But when 
 he reached the plateau, a hundred feet above the inn, he saw the 
 little steamer speeding down the loch, bearing Ret and Clare, 
 both of whom he clearly recognized, seated upon the deck ! 
 
 " Gone ! Dear me !" said Mr. Harwood. 
 
 This mild expletive was very unsatisfactory. But the good Par 
 son never thought of using any of the more emphatic phrases 
 wherewith men usually vent their wrath. No escape from Inver- 
 snaid was possible until morning. The rector meekly accepted 
 the inevitable, and forced himself to say : "It is all for the best !" 
 At the same time he would have paid twenty -five pounds cheer 
 fully for any decent pretext for tears. 
 
 Like a sensible man, he went directly to the source of relief, in 
 so far as relief from disappointment is attainable beneath the 
 skies. He went to work. And the best sort of work to bring 
 comfort and placidity is the work of composition. The rector 
 shut himself up in his room and wrote a sermon. His text was, 
 "Tribulation worketh patience." It was scholarly, rhetorical, 
 evangelical. And he went to bed after it and slept soundly. 
 
 When he reached Glasgow he learned that the ladies had spent 
 the night at the " Queen's," and departed for Liverpool that morn 
 ing. He took the first train and followed them, not knowing any 
 thing about their intentions, except that Clifton was their objective 
 point. They were a day ahead of him now and the chase was 
 getting hopeless. 
 
 " Lime Street Station, sir f asked the guard, when he sur 
 rendered his ticket. 
 
 " Yes," replied the Parson. He did not know anything concern 
 ing Lime street, but he was indifferent about stations. 
 
 " All right, sir. This carriage goes to Lime street." 
 
 In due time Lime street was reached. The rector crushed his 
 hat against the door frame when he emerged from the carriage. 
 His neckcloth was awry, and he looked dilapidated and seedy as 
 he walked down the platform, a porter following with his port 
 manteau. He glanced about incuriously at the throngs hurrying 
 out of his train and at other throngs hurrying into another train 
 on the opposite platform, and peace entered his soul as he saw his
 
 THE RECTORS CHASE. 217 
 
 sister and Miss Tarn worth entering a carriage within twenty yards 
 of him. 
 
 " Hillo, sir !" said the porter, as Mr. Harwood bounded across 
 the rails, contrary to all rule, " that's not the way ! Fin blest if 
 he a'ut gone for the down train ! lie's been and 'ad something 
 'eavy to drink ! Beg parding, sir, but this is the wrong way !" 
 
 11 On the contrary, my friend," replied the rector, with beaming 
 countenance, " this is the first step I have taken in the right way 
 for a week ! My dear Eet, I have been chasing you three days. 
 Miss Tamworth, I have not see"n the sun shine since we parted. 
 And there's Nellie ! Porter, put the portmanteau under the seat. 
 Here's a shilling." 
 
 In two minutes the train slipped noiselessly out of the station, 
 and in five more it was roaring through a long tunnel. While 
 they were in the darkness Mr. Harwood touched Miss Clare's 
 hand and whispered : 
 
 " Only forgive me this time !" 
 
 When they came into the light again, Nellie requested her uncle 
 to take her on his knee. She inspected him intently, and en 
 deavoured to adjust his neckcloth. He was hilarious, and totally 
 unconscious of crushed hat and travel stains. Lady Lacy asked 
 him a string of questions touching his sudden flight to Laving- 
 ton and his sudden return. His replies were confused and un 
 satisfactory. Did he go to see Tommy Dawsou f No, but he had 
 been to Hippie and seen. Swiss. How was Tommy f He really 
 forgot to ask. How long was he in Laviugton ? Only an hour 
 or two. What in the world were the " clerical duties " that made 
 such a journey necessary ? He stammered something about post 
 poning them. And then Nellie asked : 
 
 " How you get your hat mashed, uncle f 
 
 While this was progressing, and while the abashed Parson was 
 trying to get the kinks out of his hat, Miss Tamworth was slyly 
 watching him. He had left her sorrowfully, indignantly, majesti 
 cally, and he had returned in such a jolly mood that he was 
 positively chuckling with delight, with a hat in the condition 
 usually called " shocking bad." Kitty, who had caused all the 
 trouble, was sitting demure and silent in the corner of the carriage, 
 and the rector had greeted her with a kind smile when he entered. 
 There was only one solution of the problem in Clare's mind : 
 
 " Delirium thingamy P 
 
 The rector was devoured with anxiety to explain to Miss Tain-
 
 218 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 l 
 
 worth his " brutal" conduct at Stirling. If he could only get live 
 
 minutes alone with her! And he stole furtive glances at her 
 through Nellie's curls, trying to see some token of forgiveness in 
 her grave face. 
 
 Miss Tamworth was perplexed to know how to keep out of the 
 Parson's reach. She saw very plainly the " mania " in his eyes, 
 and would about as soon accord " five minutes alone" to a laugh 
 ing hyena as to the jocular Parson. After his trials of the preced 
 ing days the revulsion was great, and it is a marvel that he 
 behaved as decorously as he did. 
 
 Nellie was excited and restless. She fell asleep on his shoulder 
 when tired out, her golden tresses mingling with his brown 
 whiskers. He would not allow her to be disturbed. They were 
 a very quiet party. When Nellie's nap was over, she announced 
 a proposition that was startling, but which all her hearers 
 thought was very just. 
 
 " When we get to Clifton, uncle," she said, " there will be some 
 Donkeys there !" 
 
 CHAPTEK XLII. 
 THE DONKEYS. 
 
 rriHE Eeverend John Harwood spent two days at the hotel in 
 JL Clifton. Miss Tarn worth's inheritance was scattered all over 
 that town and Bristol, yielding her a handsome revenue. Her an 
 cestral residence, Vincent Lodge, was nearly a mile from the town, 
 and the rector walked out in that direction on the third day after 
 their arrival. Before he had traversed half the distance he met 
 the ladies and Nellie, who were on their way to Clifton Downs. It 
 was a lovely morning, in which the dying spring was giving place 
 to the incoming summer. 
 
 " I have purposely avoided the Downs," he said, after the ex 
 change of greetings, " until Miss Clare would condescend to intro 
 duce me. May I join you in your walk ?" 
 
 " We were coming for you," answered Lady Lacy, taking his 
 arm. " Nellie, walk with Clare while I talk to your uncle." 
 
 This was not the precise arrangement the rector desired. Like 
 a blundering masculine, he would have " changed partners " at 
 the start, but his quick-witted sister knew better. She had 
 already decided how to give him his opportunity.
 
 THE DONKEYS. 219 
 
 , " I am very much interested in that poor boy," said Lady Lacy. 
 " Surely you heard something about him at Lavingtonf 
 
 " Not much, Bet. I met Dr. llolly, who told me the boy had 
 broken all his bones and mashed his head in a fall from the cliffs 
 at Kipple. I think he said they had mended him." 
 
 "They?" 
 
 " Yes. Swiss took his old preceptor with him, Doctor Cardon. 
 You have heard of him ? It is that fellow in London who saws a 
 man up into small pieces and then sews him up again as good as 
 new. Ket, it is not polite to turn Miss Tarn worth over to Nellie." 
 
 " Never mind Miss Tain worth. You shall escort her presently 
 as soon as you tell me all you know about Tommy." 
 
 " I think that is all. Holly says they did something to the lad's 
 skull put a pan on it, or something of the sort. He is all right. 
 Needs nursing, and Swiss has quietly settled himself down to do 
 it. He is a glorious fellow, Ket." 
 
 " Tommy f ' said Ket, innocently. 
 
 "No, Swiss." He paused a moment, reflecting, then added: 
 " Ket, of all the specimens of unselfish, manly, truthful, kind and 
 wise men that I have ever met, Swiss is the best ! Nobody under 
 stands him except his poor friend, Parson Johnny, and he will go 
 to his grave unappreciated by an ignorant world." 
 
 " Well," responded Ket, her cheeks aglow with the exercise in 
 the sweet air of the Downs, " after that ante-mortem panegyric 
 you may take Clare. Nellie, come walk with mamma." 
 
 Miss Tarn worth had caught the same ruddy hue, from a similar 
 cause. She put her dainty glove on the Parson's offered arm, as 
 Nellie and her mother hastened ahead in a regular romp. The 
 hour was early, and the Downs were depopulated. 
 
 "You must listen to me patiently, Miss Tamworth," he began, 
 with grave precision. " I have to explain my misconduct the other 
 day, and throw myself upon your mercy for pardon. I was not 
 myself." 
 
 " I suppose not," was the grim rejoinder. " I hope you had a 
 satisfactory reason for getting into that state. You have had a 
 reputation for very peculiar abstemiousness, which would be seri 
 ously damaged if your parishioners should see you " 
 
 " Upon my honour, Clare," answered the rector, anxiously, " I 
 did not know what the horrid stuff was. Swiss says I was inebri 
 ated !" 
 
 " Of course !"
 
 220 TEE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 " That Scotchman gave it to me. I was faint and sick. How 
 could it be otherwise when he told me he had just married Clare 
 Tamworth !" 
 
 " What do you. say?" 
 
 " I say, Mr. Macdower told me he had married a lovely lady that 
 morning to some Mr. Lacy 1 He said she wore a diamond brooch 
 composed of three lilies. I have seen it on your neck a dozen 
 times. He said her name was Clare Tamworth !" 
 
 "And you believed him?" she answered, withdrawing her hand 
 from his arm. " You thought I I had contracted a secret mar 
 riage ! What have I done that you should think so meanly of me F 
 and she put her handkerchief to her eyes. 
 
 " Clare !" said Parson Johnny, " come sit down here. Can you 
 
 make no allowances " 
 
 " None !" she answered, taking the indicated seat, and slyly 
 watching his troubled face through the flimsy kerchief. 
 
 " I had come from Laviugton with enough courage mustered 
 up to ask you to be my wife. I thought I would tell you how 
 sincerely I admired and loved you. I had gained my own con 
 sent to ask you to forego all the brilliant prospects that were 
 before you, and to marry a poor country Parson, who had nothing 
 to plead but an honest affection nothing to offer but a life-long 
 devotion. And when the magistrate told me, with cold precision, 
 
 that you were married " 
 
 " You did all you could to get delirium thingamy !" said Clare, 
 uncovering her eyes ; " and when you joined us the other day at 
 
 Liverpool with your hat mashed " 
 
 " That was an accident, Clare," answered the discomfited rector. 
 " I struck my hat against the car." 
 
 " And your eyes blazing with excitement," continued the lady, 
 not noticing his interruption, " looking so wild that I was posi 
 tively afraid of you " 
 
 " That was joy at seeing you again, Clare. I love you, and I 
 cannot make my eyes tell lies ! I can scarcely refrain from clasp 
 ing you in my arms, even now !" 
 
 " You had better!" retorted Clare with a little scream ; " where 
 are you going F 
 
 "Anywhere? I see that you can never love me, and the 
 wretchedness I suffer away from you is more tolerable than the 
 agony of being near you, and keeping silent upon the only subject 
 that interests me. Do you think I would be brute enough to
 
 THE DONKEYS. 221 
 
 annoy you with protestations that are so distasteful to you ! You 
 have had a lot of fellows hanging around you, and talking bosh 
 so long that you have no appetite for earnest, heartfelt, unchange 
 able devotion ! Ah ! if you could only have loved me ! But I am 
 dumb !" 
 
 "None of the 'fellows' ever said such cross things to me as you 
 say !" replied Clare, piteously, dropping a tear or two. They keep 
 a supply of them, reader, those angels, and drown a poor thick- 
 skulled man with a spoonful at their good pleasure! "Pray 
 don't leave me here alone! Ret is out of sight and hearing ! Any 
 one of the ' fellows ' would have offered me his arm, instead of 
 flying off in a rage ! Before I said l no,' too !" 
 
 " It is not necessary to say no, Clare. You can look no, and 
 act no without speaking." 
 
 " Dear me !" she said, with a sigh, as she took his arm again ; 
 " one must regulate all one's looks and acts, too ! How long have 
 you been imagining yourself in love with poor mef' 
 
 " I don't know when I did not love you, Clare. I thought you 
 liked Swiss " 
 
 " Mr. Barston !" said she, with another charming little scream. 
 " I should as soon think of marrying the Great Mogul !" 
 
 " Why that is what he said about you 1" said the rector, with 
 delicious simplicity. 
 
 "Sir!" 
 
 " I mean I thought you had married him ! That Scotchman 
 said a Mr. Lacy something so I went to Lavington and asked 
 him." 
 
 " And he said he would as soon marry the Great Mogul f 
 
 11 No. He mentioned some other dignitary. I forget. Oh, 
 Clare, will you promise to keep a secret f ' 
 
 " Yes !" she answered, eagerly. That is their way, reader, those 
 angels ! They will promise anything to hear a secret. 
 
 "Well, poor Swiss loves Eet! He charged me most sternly 
 never to mention it. And I have told you, you see, at once. But 
 I love you so there I am done !" 
 
 " You may go on 1" she answered, leaning a little more on his 
 arm, " I suppose I ought to hear all you have to say." 
 
 " But I have said all. I love you ! I love you ! Ah, if you 
 could only say so to me ! Could I make you love me, Clare, by 
 any self-denial, any endurance, any patient waiting f 
 
 "In two or three years," said Miss Tamworth, slowly and
 
 222 THE LACT DIAMONDS. 
 
 shyly " I might like you a little. Men are such horrid, cross, 
 
 impulsive, unreasonable things, that I Let go my hand, sir ! 
 
 I hear somebody coming." 
 
 " Do you love me a little now, Clare ?" said the rector. 
 
 " I don't know ! If you don't get delirium thingamy any more, 
 and dash off, leaving me heart-broken with your cruel words, I 
 will try to forgive you this time." 
 
 " Do you love me a little P 
 
 " Just a little grain, perhaps. Ah ! there is somebody." 
 
 " Oh, mamma !" said Nellie, rushing into view, " here are the 
 lovely donkeys!" and she pointed at a string of those attractive 
 quadrupeds, just appearing upon the Downs. 
 
 " Thank fortune !" said the relieved rector, " she don't mean us.'? 
 
 "What conspiracies are you two plotting!" said Lady Lacy. 
 "You have been an hour down there !" 
 
 " I have been trying to get a sister for you, Bet," answered her 
 brother ; " ask Clare if I have succeeded." 
 
 " My darling !" said Lady Lacy, slipping her arm round Miss 
 Tamworth's waist. " Come away for a run ! I am so happy !" 
 
 Clare kissed her hand to the rector as she tripped away, and, 
 turning her blushing face to Eet, whispered, 
 - " So am I !" 
 
 The rector took Nellie on his shoulder, and went to meet the 
 donkeys. The leader had made up his mind suddenly that the 
 Downs was not an attractive locality. He laid his ears back, and 
 planted his fore feet firmly in the sod, refusing to move. His 
 driver belaboured his flanks with a switch of about two inches in 
 diameter without effect. While Mr. Harwood waited for the 
 quadruped to alter his mind the ladies approached. 
 
 " I would recommend that picture to your serious considera 
 tion," said Miss Tamworth. " You can judge how the Harwood 
 obstinacy looks !" 
 
 Mr. Harwood took the bridle from the hand of the driver, patted 
 the vicious little brute on the neck, and persuaded him to follow. 
 He placed Nellie in the saddle, and the donkey finding she was a 
 light weight, consented to amble gently along. The rector nodded 
 triumphantly as he moved away. 
 
 " Learn a lesson yourself, Miss Clare," he said ; " you see what 
 can be accomplished by kindness. Pet the Harwoods a little and 
 you can lead them where you will!"
 
 NELLIE LOST. 223 
 
 OHAPTEE XLIII. 
 
 NELLIE LOST. 
 
 rpOMMY DAWSON recovered slowly. Dr. Holly kept him 
 -L abed perhaps a little longer than was necessary, partly be- 
 c.uise he wished the bones to "knit" well and partly because 
 Barston paid the guinea punctually at each visit. The patient did 
 not murmur ; he was fed judiciously, and Jenny was flitting in and 
 out all day. Swiss rode down daily, sometimes from the village 
 and sometimes from Oakland. The rector wrote to him twice a 
 week, and on Saturdays Barston met him at the station as Mr. 
 Harwood came down regularly to attend to the " clerical duties n 
 of Sunday. By the earliest train on Monday he was off again, 
 pining for " the air of the Downs." 
 
 When Tommy was fairly out, hobbling about on crutches, Mr. 
 Barston went to London to make purchases. He was adorning 
 his home elaborately. New furniture arrived at the Lavington 
 station in quantity, and the ladies of the Union Mission, half 
 churohwomen and half dissenters, exchanged harmless gossip 
 about Oakland and its lord. That he was setting his house in 
 order was plain, and the natural inference was that he was about 
 to " settle down." 
 
 Settling down usually means matrimony. 
 
 " It is certainly some London lady," said Miss Liston. She 
 was the daughter of the Honourable Mannaduke Liston, who was 
 cousin to Lord Lappermilk. Mr. Liston lived very economically 
 on his small income, and hoped for the time when dear Lucy would 
 make some gentleman happy, and leave him the whole of his 
 scanty revenue for his personal use. As she was thirty, and 
 indeed had been thirty for an indefinite number of years, Mr. 
 Liston manifested commendable perseverance in hope. Miss Lucy 
 was a devoted churchwoman, and thought the rector was lovely. 
 
 " I don't believe it is any lady," said Miss Nevill. She was the 
 young sister of Major Nevill, a gouty old bachelor, living on half 
 pay. He had been in the Crimea and knew Mr. Barston. " Brother 
 says Mr. Barston is too sensible a man to marry. He thinks he is 
 only fitting up a bachelor establishment." 
 
 ' He was at Spurgeon's Tabernacle last Sunday," said Miss Bui-
 
 224 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 lion, the banker's daughter ; " probably he is going to marry some 
 dissenting damsel out of that flock." 
 
 " More likely he will start off for the Albert Nyanza or the 
 mountains of the moon," said Miss Dora Bullion, " as soon as he 
 has furnished his house. I believe he has been everywhere else." 
 " Mr. Macdower says he was over in America, where they are 
 fighting," said Miss Oswald. She was a member of the Presby 
 terian flock, and was supposed to have designs upon her pastor. 
 <'And he was part surgeon, part missionary and part hospital 
 nurse. He brought letters to Mr. Macdower from one of his 
 cousins in North Carolina." 
 
 " Madame Laplace says he was in Paris last week," said Miss 
 Frippery. She was the fashionable lady of Lavington, whose 
 whole soul was swallowed up in dress. " She met him in the Pas 
 sage de L'Orme, where she buys her millinery. He was buying a 
 hat, trimmed with real lace ; it was a Leghorn ; the flowers were the 
 most expensive he could buy. Madame says it was totally out of 
 style for any grown person. She saw him write on the back of his 
 card, ' For my darling/ and he dropped the card in the box. He 
 took it away with him, so she could not tell what address he put 
 upon it. It cost a hundred francs !" 
 
 " A hundred francs !" said the rest in chorus. 
 " Only four pounds, you know," said Miss Frippery. " I think 
 that was quite moderate, considering how rich he is. Of course 
 it was for a present j for his darling ! Thai seems to me to settle 
 the question of a bachelor establishment F 
 
 Little Nellie got the hat by express and was airing it on Clif 
 ton Downs at the very moment that the amiable ladies were dis 
 cussing it. 
 
 Why di d not Barston go to Clifton ? He had not been invited, 
 and he was shy. 
 
 The rector was so engrossed in his own courtship, that he did 
 not think often of his friend. When he did, he supposed he was 
 still occupied with Tommy. On Saturdays he could not talk 
 much, as he always had his sermon to write. Sunday was filled 
 up with church services and needful pastoral visitations, and Mon 
 day carried him back to Clare. The letters he wrote to Barston 
 were brief, and the charming egotism of a happy lover made him 
 blind to everything outside the walls of his paradise. 
 
 Miss Tamworth liked Mr. Barstou very much ; but she liked the 
 rector more. If the thought of having Swiss at Clifton occurred
 
 NELLIE LOST. 225 
 
 to her, she did not entertain it long. The consequence would be 
 to take Parson Johnny off now and again. Mr. Barston could 
 not always gallop about the country with Nellie, and there was 
 nobody else to entertain him but Ret. Eet did not fancy him. 
 She had not heard her mention his name for years. And when 
 she tried to make him the subject of conversation, Lady Lacy 
 maintained a cold and dignified silence. There was some bad feel 
 ing between them, perhaps growing out of the Lacy inheritance, 
 of which Clare had heard some gossip somewhere probably from 
 Lord Lappermilk, who investigated rent-rolls of marriageable 
 females on principle. It would be horrid to bring an uncon 
 genial companion there to annoy poor Eet. So Miss Clare rea 
 soned. 
 
 " Poor Eet " thought of Mr. Barston, too. Notwithstanding 
 the rooted dislike which Miss Tarn worth had detected, Lady Lacy 
 spent many hours in the perusal of some old letters. She had 
 three of them, all written to the rector. The first was written 
 immediately after Sir John Lacy's death. The second was written 
 on the eve of Barston's last voyage. The third was the short 
 scrawl, left at the " Castle Inn," at Stirling. The gentle reader 
 has seen them all. 
 
 Following the suggestion so kindly dropped by Miss Clare, we 
 may account for Lady Lacy's conduct in this regard. She was too 
 good to nourish enmity without just cause. She was too good to 
 set an evil example of non-love to her neighbour ; so she always 
 locked herself in her room when she perused the letters. Her 
 object, of course, was to detect the hidden villainy in Mr. Bars- 
 ton's character. And her innate goodness of heart always made 
 her eyes humid when she read these epistles (and she always 
 read every word of all of them), and she always blushed when she 
 put them carefully away under lock and key, being ashamed of 
 the rascality they unfolded, and sorrowful for the general wicked 
 ness of mankind. It was very remarkable, and altogether inex 
 plicable also, that she usually concluded these exercises by wring 
 ing her hands, and saying 
 
 " Oh, if I only could be certain that Mr. DeVere was telling 
 lies ! and that Mr. Bottomry was telling lies ! I think I could die 
 happy !" 
 
 As this little accomplishment distinguished the two gentlemen 
 she named, it is to be hoped that her pious desire will be gratified 
 before this truthful narrative is finished. And as the reader will 
 
 15
 
 226 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 be curious to know what special instance of mendacity Eet was 
 anxious about, that, also, shall be revealed in due time. 
 
 The peculiar relations subsisting betwixt Eet and Swiss were 
 known to themselves alone, Neither of them had ever mentioned 
 the interesting conversation that occurred at their last interview. 
 To Swiss it was full of mystery. To Eet much of the mystery was 
 now explained. But there was no proper opportunity afforded for 
 the explanations that would have broken down all the barriers 
 separating these loving hearts. Lady Lacy rose from the perusal 
 of the letters each time with the conviction that Barstou loved 
 her still, and that he would never relinquish her. Why he delayed 
 the renewal of his suit she could not imagine, and she expected 
 each day that Nellie went out with Kitty, to receive a glowing 
 account of a gallop with " Cousin Lacy " when she returned. But 
 Nellie got only donkey rides on the Downs. 
 
 Thus matters stood one bright day in the summer. The ladies 
 and Mr. Harwood went to Bath to explore that ancient city. 
 Kitty was left with Nellie, to spend the day at Vincent Lodge, or 
 on the Downs, or in a drive, or, in fact, according to Miss Nellie's 
 fancies, whatever they might be. The carriage was to meet the 
 last train from Bath, in the late afternoon. 
 
 It was a late dinner hour when they returned. Lady Lacy 
 inquired for Nellie. She had gone out with Kitty, soon after 
 noon, and had not returned. They had gone to the Downs. The 
 coachman saw them there at three o'clock. He had been to Clif 
 ton, and was walking out to the lodge to prepare for his drive to 
 the station in Bristol. Nellie was on. a donkey and Kitty walking 
 beside her. It was growing dark, and it was time Nellie was 
 asleep. The rector volunteered to go in search of them, and no 
 one opposed his departure. When he came back, nearly two 
 hours later, the whole household was thoroughly miserable. 
 
 He had been all over the Downs, but could find no traces of 
 them. Some policemen had seen them, and the donkey boys had 
 seen them, but all the accounts terminated about the same hour 
 that the coachman named three o'clock. He was recalled, and 
 closely questioned, but no new information was elicited. 
 
 The rector was terribly alarmed and anxious, but he strove to 
 keep a cheerful countenance, for Eet's sake. Miss Tarn worth 
 went to bed, prostrated and heart-broken. Lady Lacy was the 
 only calm individual in the house, and she put direct questions to 
 Parson Johnny as to the extent and direction of his search. Then
 
 NELLIE LOST. 227 
 
 he told her that he had had a dozen men scouring the country 
 within four or five miles of the locality where the child had last 
 been seen. It was at the foot of the observatory, on the cliff, 
 where the donkeys had been dismissed, and Kitty and Nellie had 
 walked leisurely down towards Clifton. One man had brought the 
 information that a woman and child, answering the description 
 given, had been seen going down the zig-zag, a little later. 
 
 "I assure you, sister," said the rector, "that this pathway is 
 entirely safe. I went from the top to the bottom myself, and if 
 Nellie went down there, she went safely. Besides, if there had 
 been any accident I should have heard of it. Half of Clifton 
 knows of the child's loss by this time, and the search has been 
 thorough." 
 
 " What do you think has become of her, Johnny ?" said his sis 
 ter, steadily. " Do not be afraid to tell me your exact thought." 
 
 "Dear Eet, I am totally bewildered! While I am confident 
 that no serious harm has happened, the mere fact that I don't 
 know where to look for her, demoralizes me entirely. I cannot 
 suggest the next step. Oh ! if I could only get Swiss !" 
 
 " Go to Clifton, brother, and telegraph for him instantly," she 
 replied. He started up, and seized his hat. " Stay," she con 
 tinued, " you are more excited than I. Here are some blanks. I 
 will write the despatch. Jane, tell the coachman to bring the 
 carriage to the door as speedily as possible," and she sat down at 
 an escritoire and with a firm hand wrote the telegram. " Pray 
 see that it goes at once, yourself. If Mr. Barston gets it to-night, 
 he can be here in the morning. There is the carriage ! away with 
 
 you 
 
 ra 
 
 Throwing her an admiring glance, Mr. Harwood hastened to the 
 carriage, which drove down the gravelled road at a rapid rate. 
 As the sound of the wheels died away, llet fell on her knees and 
 prayed as she had never prayed before. And when she lifted her 
 wan face, wet with tears, there was a touch of comfort in her 
 countenance. 
 
 " If mortal man can find her, lie can. If wisdom and courage 
 ;in<l undying energy can accomplish anything, he will bring her 
 back. And if he does ! If he restores my baby to my arms ag;iin, 
 I will deny him nothing that he can ask. I will be his slave while 
 life endures, if lie wants a slave. And if he asks me to bo his wife 
 again, I will marry him ! I will do it, if I am convinced that he 
 stole them !"
 
 228 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 OHAPTEE XLIV. 
 
 ANOTHER VOYAGE. 
 
 ME. BAESTON was enjoying otium cum digniiate in the library 
 at Oakland. He had dined solus, and rather late. Too much 
 coffee after dinner made him wakeful. So he sat and smoked, and 
 read a treatise upon magnetic clairvoyance, in very choice French. 
 It was a new book, and he was so much interested, that he did not 
 notice the entrance of the servant, who coughed and spluttered 
 and did all he could to attract his attention. 
 
 " If you please, sir," he said at length " Mr. Macdower is in the 
 hall." 
 
 " What !" said Barston, starting up " bring him in at once ! 
 Why did you keep him waiting there ?" 
 
 " Thought you were gone to bed, sir. I'll show him in, sir," and 
 he vanished. 
 
 " My dear Mr. Macdower why, what is the matter ? A tele 
 gram ! shall I read it f ' 
 
 "Yes. It will explain my unseasonable visit." 
 
 Barston unfolded the paper, with a vague presentiment of evil, 
 and read: 
 
 "From John Harwood, Clifton, Bristol, to Eev'd Andrew Mac 
 dower, Lavington. Find Lacy Barston instantly and say that 
 Nellie is lost, and Lady Lacy begs him to come immediately. Get 
 this message to him at any expense, without delay." 
 
 Barston read it twice, carefully. 
 
 " How did you come, Mr. Macdower?" 
 
 " In a cab." 
 
 " Gibson, put some things in my portmanteau. Here ! You 
 may as well put these cigars in all of them. Stay ! leave me half 
 a dozen. Will you have one, Mr. Macdower ? No ? Gibson, if 
 the portmanteau is not ready in five minutes," and he looked at 
 his watch, " I shall go without it. Will you take my place here, 
 Mr. Macdower ? I must take your cab." 
 
 "No. I must return. What is your purpose ?" 
 
 " There is a train that passes Lavington at one o'clock. I am 
 going to Bristol in that." 
 
 " There is a seat in my cab. Here is the portmanteau. We 
 have no time to spare. Come on."
 
 ANOTHER VOYAGE. 229 
 
 " Cabby," said Barston, as he entered the vehicle, " if you set us 
 down at Lavington station within forty-five minutes, you shall 
 name your fare." 
 
 " Fifteen shillins, sir F said cabby. 
 
 " Here is a sovereign. Earn it F 
 
 There were five minutes to spare. Barston obtained his ticket, 
 lighted a cigar and waited. The south train glided into the station 
 precisely at one o'clock. The porter ran along the line of carriages, 
 followed by Barston, looking for a smoking compartment. 
 
 " Not one smoking carriage, sir ! Not even second class." 
 
 " Then 1 shall ride third class to the next stop at least," replied 
 Swiss. " Here is a carriage, and a gentleman in it enjoying his 
 pipe. In we go," and the train plunged into the night again with 
 a shriek. 
 
 Our friend smoked and meditated. It would be bright day 
 light when they reached Bristol. What was the first thing to be 
 done? The odour of his neighbour's pipe was not agreeable. 
 Therefore, the first thing was to get him to put it out, and take a 
 cigar instead. 
 
 " My friend," he said, politely, " your tobacco is so strong that 
 the fumes affect my head! No doubt the quality is excellent. 
 But if you will oblige me by substituting this cigar " 
 
 " Ay, ay, Master Barston F said the other. " I've had some of 
 your cigars before to-night on the coast of Spencerland and 
 under the equator I" 
 
 "Why, Mobby! I left you first mate on board Spencer's ship 
 how long ago ? I am glad to see you again." 
 
 " I'm cappen of my own ship now, sir," said the sailor, shaking 
 hands with his old shipmate, " leastways of a tugboat, and two- 
 thirds owner, too. I'm done with long v'yages." 
 
 " ^Vhe^e is your vessel, Mobby f" inquired Barston. 
 
 " On the Avon, sir, at Bristol." 
 
 " We have had some rough experiences together, Mobby," said 
 Mr. Barston. " Do you remember the high peak where we win 
 tered r 
 
 " Ay, ay, sir 1" replied the sailor, " and I remember seeing you 
 on top of it, in the moonlight, poking at its bald head with your 
 Alpenstock." 
 
 " Yes ! I cut some letters there. He will be a good climber 
 who erases that record 1 AVhcn did you leave Bristol t" 
 
 " Yesterday. I towed a new steamer out to the Channel the
 
 230 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 Pallas. She is going directly to New York. She is a fine ship. 
 Got aground in the Avon. Had to wait for the tide. That river 
 is worse than the currents we used to get in the high latitudes. 
 Do you remember the old berg, sir, that went out to sea that 
 night, ploughing its way through the floe ? We went out in his 
 wake, you know P 
 
 " I remember," answered Barston, thoughtfully ; " we had all 
 thought that old berg our great enemy. We were between him 
 and the rock, and we feared the power of the current. You see 
 he was our friend after all, opening egress from our ice prison. 
 We parted from him at sunrise, and stood out to sea !" 
 
 " Yes, sir ; that was Providence, you> said. Well, Providence 
 got the Pallas aground yesterday just to oblige a chap who had 
 left his wife and babby." 
 
 " Ah !" said Barston. 
 
 "Yes, sir! It was a rum go, altogether. When the ship 
 grounded my cable was taut. I found she would not come, so I 
 jumped ashore to help the boys shove her off the bank. You see 
 I knew how them currents ran, and the ship's officers were chat 
 tering like a lot of Frenchmen. While I was working about, this 
 chap slipped over the side and got his wife and babby. They 
 were on the bank." 
 
 " Surely he did not expect them to be there?" said Barston. 
 
 " No, sir ; it was a reg'lar surprise. But he took them aboard 
 with him, and the Pallas was soon afloat again. It was all plain 
 sailing then, and I left my mate to take her to the channel, as I 
 had to go to Exeter. Are you going to Bristol or Clifton, sir P 
 
 " Yes ; to both places." 
 
 "Well, sir," said Mr. Mobby, fumbling in his pockets, "the 
 babby dropped a trinket on the bank. Leastways I picked it up 
 where she had been standing, the little hangel! She was as 
 purty as a picter ! I thought you might find some of her people, 
 maybe. Would you mind taking the toy P 
 
 " You had better keep it, Mobby. It is not likely that I could 
 find any of the child's kin. My stay is very uncertain. You will 
 perhaps hear something about it when the ship returns. Is it 
 very valuable P 
 
 " It is only a bit of coral, sir. Here it is ! Little Nellie will 
 miss it " 
 
 " Little what !" said Barston, taking the bracelet, and devouring 
 it with his eyes by the dim light of the lamp in the car roof.
 
 ANOTHER VOYAGE. 231 
 
 " Yon chap called her ' Nellie '- 
 
 " What was he like f ' said Barston, with bated breath. 
 
 " Oh, he was a swell chap. Had on fine toggery and kid gloves. 
 Had a cut on his face that spoiled his beauty. But his wife 
 seemed very fond of him. I saw her hanging on his arm after 
 they got aboard. She was afeard the child would be scared at 
 the ship. But not a bit of it ! She was bold as brass ! Her 
 father took her up and said, l Nellie, do you want to go on the big 
 ship f and she clapped her little hands and said, ' Yes, yes !' The 
 little hangel ! I've been thinking of her twenty times to-day." 
 
 " So have I," replied Swiss. " I think I know her." 
 
 " Do you? Well, that's jolly! You will keep the bracelet then, 
 sir?" 
 
 " Yes. Did you hear nothing about the woman and child being 
 missed P inquired Mr. Barston. 
 
 "No, sir; I came directly to Bristol and took the train to 
 Exeter. It was a rum go ! I have thought since that yon chap 
 was after running off to America to get rid of his wife and babby. 
 It was a quare start ! His wife was very much astonished to see 
 him. And it was a very unlikely place for them to be there under 
 the bank. They must have walked down there from the foot of 
 the zig-zag. Do you happen to know the chap's name, sir F 
 
 " I think he is called Butler," replied Barston. 
 
 " That's it ! I had forgotten ; but I heard the cappen say 
 'Good eveniu', Mrs. Butler,' when she went aboard. By the bye, 
 the Pallas sailed twelve hours before her time. Mebbe yon chap 
 intended to take his wife, after all.' 1 
 
 Mr. Barstou had arrived at a conclusion. It was all plain to 
 him. Butler had taken Kitty and Nellie to America. He knew 
 the bracelet, which he had given the child at Stirling ; and But 
 ler's hatred of all the Harwoods, and his malignant character, 
 would account for his abduction of Nellie. Only one thing was to 
 be done to follow. 
 
 "Captain, how can I get to America most rapidly?" ho said, 
 after an hour's silence, in which his thoughts had been busy. 
 
 "Take the Princess this morain', sir," answered the sailor 
 promptly. "Tide will be three quarters flood at daylight. She 
 will sail at or near seven o'clock. She goes to Cork, and you will 
 be certain to overhaul to-day's Cunanlcr in Cork harbour. By to 
 morrow night you will be off Cape Clear." 
 
 " It is settled, then," said Barston, decidedly. " My dear
 
 232 TEE LACT DIAMONDS. 
 
 Mobby, I have given you many lectures upon Providence. Hear 
 one more. I have a first class ticket in my pocket, but I could 
 not get a smoking carriage, and the guard put me in here ; and 
 so I have had your agreeable company and obtained valuable 
 information from you, which would not have happened if I had 
 not obstinately resolved to have my cigar, though I had to relin 
 quish cushioned seats and probably a comfortable nap. Now I 
 would have given twenty thousand pounds for your touching 
 little history of that encounter on the banks of the Avon if I could 
 not have obtained it cheaper. And you have awakened so keen 
 an interest in my heart in that little girl that I am going to Amer 
 ica to-day, simply to find her ; and I may add," he continued, 
 through his teeth, ll I shall never return until I do find her. And 
 if you will excuse me I will try to get a small nap in this corner. 
 Take another cigar, captain." 
 
 In two minutes Swiss was asleep. 
 
 " I've told Cappen Spencer a hundred times," said Mr. Mobby 
 to himself, " that Mr. Barston was a reg'lar loonatick ! He is a 
 jolly good gentleman, and his cigars are prime A 1. But if he 
 ain't a loonatick I want to see one ! Twenty thousand pounds to 
 hear me talk ! And when he said his heart was in love with that 
 precious babby he was a gritten his teeth. He's a reg'lar loonatick 
 or I'm bio wed !" In giving the sleeper this title he always accented 
 the penultimate. 
 
 Then the captain put his unlighted cigar carefully away in his 
 pouch and fell asleep in his corner. 
 
 CHAPTER XLY. 
 ADIEU! 
 
 HpHEEE was very little sleeping done at Vincent Lodge that 
 I night. Messengers came at all hours, with the same dismal 
 report, " no tidings," and Lady Lacy spent the weary hours in 
 constructing hypotheses to account for the absence of Kitty and 
 the child. If Barstoii had thought of it, he might have enlarged 
 upon the kind Providence that led Mobby to the spot where the 
 bracelet was found, instead of allowing some one of the searchers 
 to find it. As no one had seen the embarkation of the child and
 
 ADIEU! 233 
 
 her nurse excepting the people on the ship, now steaming down the 
 channel, or those on the tug, now ploughing her way back from the 
 mouth of the Avon, the conclusion would have been irresistible 
 that both Kitty and Nellie were drowned. 
 
 Lady Lacy consulted time tables, and had fixed in her mind the 
 hours at which Mr. Barstoii might possibly arrive. If he received 
 the despatch without delay, the earliest possibility was the ap 
 proaching dawn. The more she thought of him the more she 
 expected him to restore Nellie. She recalled stories she had heard 
 of his prowess, and there were not a few of them ; and in spite of 
 the harrowing anxiety that tortured her, she found her hopes 
 reviving as the gray light began to appear in the eastern horizon. 
 
 It was only a possibility that all had gone smoothly, and that 
 he would come with the sun, but she put a waterproof cloak on, 
 drew the hood over her head, and walked down the drive and out 
 upon the Clifton road. As she passed through the hall she saw 
 the rector sitting at the table, his head resting on his arm, asleep. 
 He had been watching there all night, and the fatigue had over 
 come him at last. 
 
 Down the Clifton road all was blank. There were stripes of 
 orange and pink in the sky over the little hillock that bounded 
 her view. Then the orange faded and the pink grew into crimson. 
 Then 
 
 " Up leaped of a sudden the sun," 
 
 and something appeared against his lurid disc. It was a vehicle 
 approaching at a rapid rate. 
 
 Lady Lacy drew aside as it came near. It was a Hansom cab, 
 empty ! 
 
 While she was choking down her disappointment with a sob, 
 the driver pulled up his panting horse at the gate and touched 
 his hat to her. 
 
 " Vincent Lodge, mum f he said. 
 
 " Yes, where are you from f What have you to tell ?" 
 
 " Nothin', mum ! I on'y want to speak to Lady Lacy." 
 
 " I am she," said Ket, throwing back her hood, " speak quickly, 
 man, if you do not wish to drive me mad !" 
 
 " Beg pardiug, my lady," returned cabby, " but the gent said I 
 was to go to the 'ouse and give the letter to Lady Lacy her 
 self . 
 
 " Mr. Barston F said she, with a flush of joy spreading over her 
 face.
 
 234 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 " Yes, my lady. It is all right if you know who sent it. Here 
 is the letter. He told me to wait." 
 
 She made an assenting motion with her hand, took the letter, 
 and re-entering the grounds, sat down on a garden seat near the 
 gate and tore the envelope open. Something dropped out and 
 fell at her feet. With a low cry she snatched it up and 
 covered it with kisses. It was Nellie's bracelet. And while the 
 fast flowing tears which fell like heavenly dew from her aching- 
 eyes dimmed her sight, she read the letter. You have peeped 
 over her shoulder before, reader. Do it again. 
 
 "BRISTOL ON BOARD THE 'PRINCESS,' 
 " 6 O'CLOCK, A. M. 
 
 " MY LADY I have traces of Nellie; nay, I know where she is, 
 and that she is safe! I enclose her bracelet by way of proof. 
 She is safe and well. Be comforted, oh mourner ! Do not repine 
 at delay that cannot be avoided. Let the one thought possess 
 you. She is safe and well, and I am about to cross the ocean to 
 regain her and restore her to you. 
 
 " Butler married Kitty at Stirling. Did you know it? He met 
 her and Nellie at the foot of the cliif yesterday I suppose at the 
 upper end of Clifton. He was on board the ship Pallas, bound 
 for New York, and while the vessel was accidentally detained, 
 being aground, he took Kitty and the child aboard, and they are 
 two days ahead of me. I shall catch to-day's Cuuarder, from Liver 
 pool, at Queenstown, where I shall be to-night, and if the same 
 overruling Providence that revealed this much to me by a half 
 miracle will still befriend us, I shall arrive in New York almost 
 if not quite as soon as the Pallas. Is it necessary to say that I 
 will never return without Nellie that I will hunt every possible 
 locality that I will leave no means untried, no agency unem 
 ployed, that has the feeblest prospect of success P 
 
 " Trust the Providence ! Two years ago I was driven to America 
 by dire calamity and distress, and while there I learned some of 
 Butler's haunts. I have the most sanguine expectation of finding 
 him and Nellie quickly. Do not doubt it. 
 
 "I am writing very hurriedly, as the ship sails immediately. 
 May I say one word ? You will be praying sometimes that Nellie 
 may be restored to you ; will you please add a little petition in be 
 half of her searcher ? 
 
 "LACY BARSTON."
 
 ADIEU. 235 
 
 " P. S. I told cabby that you would perhaps drive to the 
 Downs, and let me see you as the ship passes say at the foot of 
 the observatory. It has been two years since I saw you, and it 
 would comfort me no little if nay last look might rest upon you. 
 I ventured to order him to wait until you read this missive." 
 
 " Oh, my darling !" said Lady Lacy, kissing the bracelet once 
 more. " I shall see you again ! My love, my love !" and in her 
 confusion she got the bracelet and the letter mixed, and kissed 
 them both. Then she hurried out to the road and entered the cab. 
 
 " Drive to the Downs," she said ; " no time to lose !" 
 
 Seated on the bench below the observatory she could see a 
 long stretch of the river, up and down. Far down towards the 
 channel there was a tug coming up rapidly with the flood tide. 
 The high bank hid the upper part of the river, trending north 
 ward, and she kept her gaze riveted upon the point where the 
 Cork steamer must appear. Presently the prow was projected 
 beyond the bank, then the foremast, then the slowly revolving 
 paddles, and finally the whole vessel appeared less than a mile 
 from her elevated perch. She started up, throwing off her hood, 
 and the rays of the morning sun were glinted back from her 
 beautiful hair, as she stood like a lovely statue upon the bald 
 rock at the base of the observatory. Upon the paddle-box of the 
 steamer now gliding by stood Lacy Barstou, his arms stretched 
 upwards towards her. She kissed her hand to him again and 
 again, trying to think of some gesture that would show him her 
 gratitude and admiration, and wondering at her own stupidity, 
 while her lover stood watching her, his arms uplifted, until the 
 ship passed out of sight. And in their after lives both of them 
 often recalled that mute adieu and thanked heaven for the com 
 fort they found in it. 
 
 When the cab reached the entrance to Vincent Lodge, Lady 
 Lacy produced her purse. 
 
 " I'm paid, mum ! beg pardiug, your ladyship! Muster Barston 
 paid mo for the whole job." 
 
 " How much ' v said she. 
 
 " A sov'run, mum, your ladyship." 
 
 " IIciv is another. And if you ever need assistance come to me 
 and get it," and she entered the grounds, robbing cabby of the 
 most perfect vision of loveliness that his eyes had ever seen. 
 
 The rector was at the door, looking with amazement at her
 
 236 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 cheerful countenance as she approached. She put Barston's note 
 in his hand, and waited while he read it. 
 
 "Hurrah!" shouted Parson Johnny, throwing up his hat. 
 " Swiss after her ! ' Ret, my darling sister, kiss me ! I tell you, 
 Eet, there is no man on this planet to compare with Swiss ! He 
 is as certain to find Nellie as if she were hidden in this hall. He 
 is relentless as death, and will hunt America over on his hands 
 and knees before he relinquishes his search. Trust Providence, 
 and trust Swiss! Come, are you going to the Downs, as he 
 requests P 
 
 " No," she answered, composedly, taking her letter back. 
 
 "No! Why, Eet f 
 
 " It is too late, Johnny. The ship sailed at daylight ; it is now 
 seven o'clock. I must run to Clare with the news." 
 
 " Well," said the discontented parson, as she flitted out of the 
 hall, " women are < kittle cattle,' as the Scotch say. Now, a man 
 with one spark of gratitude in his body, would get a horse and 
 ride down to the mouth of the river to say good-bye to a fellow 
 under these circumstances. Poor old Swiss !" 
 
 While the trio were at breakfast, a messenger arrived with a 
 note for Lady Lacy. It was as follows : 
 
 "From the ex-gamekeeper to lier high and mighty ladyship of the 
 
 Harwood blood. Greeting : 
 
 " I have taken my wife from under the protection of your lady 
 ship. She had your child in charge, and could not leave her on 
 the river bank. It was no part of my purpose to take the child, 
 and she shall suffer no harm. You may know this, as she will be 
 under Kitty's care until we can get her back to you. As she is 
 only half Harwood, I can forgive her that misfortune for the sake 
 of the better blood in her veins. I write this, not to relieve your 
 anxiety, but because I promised my wife, and am not in the habit 
 of lying." 
 
 " How did this come!" said the rector, starting up. 
 
 " A lad brought it, sir," answered the servant. " He says it was 
 given him by the captain of a tug-boat, at the foot of the zigzag." 
 
 The rector found the boy at the door, who told the same story. 
 A man on board the tug had thrown the note, tied to a lump of 
 coal, ashore, and told the boy he would get half-a-crowu for taking 
 it to Vincent Lodge. 
 
 " An' I vants the arf-crown, please sir !" said the urchin. 
 
 And the Parson paid it.
 
 ON TEE TRACK. 237 
 
 CHAPTEK XLYI. 
 ON THE TRACK. 
 
 "DARSTON'S first question when he landed on the Cnnard 
 -D wharf at Jersey City related to the Pallas. A custom house 
 official informed him that she had arrived on the previous day. 
 The wharf was crowded with passengers, porters, sailors and 
 custom house officers, and was a first class Babel. After some 
 slight delay, Mr. Barston, committing his scanty luggage to a 
 hotel porter, escaped from the whar/, and crossing the ferry, was 
 swallowed up in the crowds of the American metropolis. He had 
 learned the locality of the Pallas, and with the prompt decision 
 peculiar to the man, he went directly to the pier where she was 
 discharging cargo. 
 
 When he boarded the steamer at Queenstown he was not Lacy 
 Barston, but John Smith. It had occurred to him that the New 
 York newspapers published a list of passengers, and Mr. Butler 
 might consult them and find his name, and make his search more 
 difficult. This habit of considering all minor details was another 
 peculiarity. He incurred the risk of encountering some acquaint 
 ance on the steamer, but it happened that all were strangers to 
 him. 
 
 He found the purser on board the Pallas, and obtained his 
 stock of information in a few minutes. 
 
 Mr. Butler hud started with them from Bristol. The ship had 
 grounded in the Avon, and Mrs. Butler and the child happened to 
 be on the bank. " It was a touch and go business," the purser 
 said. They had bad a good passage, and the little girl was the 
 idol of the ship. Her parents had kept her jealously with them, 
 and were disinclined to allow any conversation with the bright 
 little angel. He could not say positively where they had gone, but 
 he thought to Chicago. Mr. Butler had asked a great number of 
 questions about the West, and the purser knew that they had 
 started from the Pallas for one of the railways. He thought it 
 was the Erie. 
 
 This was all. Hunting for a needle in a haystack was a prom 
 ising occupation in comparison with an expedition to Chicago with 
 the very insufficient clue the purser furnished. Nevertheless, it
 
 238 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 was the only thing to be done. Mr. Butler was twenty-four hours 
 ahead. This might be made up by^ express travelling night and 
 day. There was no train until six o'clock, so Mr. Smith went to 
 his hotel and dined. He had provided himself with all needful 
 funds in Cork, and now exchanged a hundred pounds for Ameri 
 can currency, and he saw the sun set from the car window twenty 
 miles west of New York. 
 
 In the station at Chicago on the second day Mr. Smith began 
 his explorations with patient philosophy. He was looking for a 
 lady and gentleman and little girl. They had arrived six, twelve 
 or eighteen hours previously. The various officials he questioned 
 had each seen the very party he described, and upon cross-exam 
 ination each gave a description totally at variance with all the 
 rest and entirely different from the reality that Mr. Smith.sought. 
 One gave the gentleman red hair and beard, another made him 
 quite gray, and a third deprived him of all hirsute adornments by 
 describing his head as " smooth as a pumpkin." It was very re 
 markable that there should have been so many arrivals of trios in 
 less than one day and that they should have been so dissimilar, 
 each from the rest. He went to a hotel and wrote a cheerful 
 letter to Parson Johnny, reporting his arrival and promising a 
 weekly letter thereafter unless he should get out of the reach of 
 mails. He recounted such portions of the purser's story as referred 
 to the good health and happiness of Nellie with great care for the 
 comfort of her mother. 
 
 He spent a week at Chicago. Particular inquiry at every hotel 
 in the city revealed the fact that Butler had not been in any of 
 them. He must go elsewhere. There was a new town in Kansas 
 where people where flocking, " especially Britishers," and he would 
 go there next. Before his departure he wrote his second letter, 
 making light of the difficulties and warning the rector that " there 
 were so many places in America, and the distances were so great 
 between them, that he might not be able to give positive informa 
 tion until the coming spring." He thought, however, that he was 
 on the track, and he would certainly continue the search until he 
 found Nellie. She was traced positively to New York, and the 
 rest was only a matter of time. " If I only knew," he concluded, 
 " that your sister was patient and hopeful, and that she trusted 
 my sagacity and perseverance, I could enjoy every part of my 
 search, even its frequent disappointments, for I know I shall find 
 my darling at last, and I am willing to wait the developments of 
 Providence Ebenezer !"
 
 ON THE TRACK. 239 
 
 Arrived at New Washington, the Kansas metropolis that was 
 to be, Mr. Smith renewed his inquiries, and here he fell into " a 
 famous streak of luck," according to his landlord's opinion. 
 
 There was a party, father, mother and daughter, and the latter 
 was named Nelly, that had arrived and departed two days ago. 
 They were in haste to reach their destination, which was a farm 
 out on the " peraira," and the landlord had only had a glimpse of 
 them, as they stopped less than an hour. The child was a " mighty 
 spry little gal ;" but his interlocutor could give Mr. Smith nothing 
 approaching an accurate description. They had come from New 
 York, as he knew by the labels on their baggage, and he had over 
 heard the mother call the child " Kelly." They certainly went to 
 Carthagenia, a station twenty miles distant, and their farm was in 
 the vicinity of that renowned city. Mr. Smith went immediately 
 to Carthagenia. 
 
 It was dark night when he arrived, and he was escorted to the 
 hotel by a man carrying a lantern. This edilice was of one story, 
 and the proprietor had not had time to adorn it as much as he 
 could desire. It was builded of logs and contained four apartments j 
 one was a kitchen, which was also the bar room and the dining hall ; 
 another was the sleeping apartment of the host and his partner 
 in distress ; a third was occupied by the progeny of this pair, 
 numbering " seven head," as the landlady apprised him with com 
 mendable pride, and the fourth was the guest chamber, and already 
 occupied by a returned soldier who had " got hurted in the war." 
 Mr. Smith was assured that this warrior would share his couch 
 with him, but as the last comer thought from his appearance that 
 he would probably share some other things, he rapidly made up his 
 mind to decline the favour. He cautiously inquired of one of the 
 seven pledges whether there were " many hotels " in Carthagenia, 
 and the pledge, with untutored hilarity at his heathenish ig 
 norance, informed him that the hotel he now sat in and the rail 
 way station were the only buildings of which Carthagenia at 
 present boasted, excepting the stable attached to the hotel. 
 
 Mr. Smith had encountered some rude experiences in his journey 
 through life, but this seemed to him a little more desolate than 
 any former adventure. He was a smoker, and alter a supper of 
 fried bacon, Indian corn-bread, which his uneducated palate could 
 not appreciate, and muddy coffee, he asked permission to walk out 
 and smoke. 
 
 " You can smoke as well hyar, stranger," said the mistress of 
 the mansion. " None of us objects to smoke in the least."
 
 240 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 Thus encouraged Mr. Smith produced his cigar case, and 
 politely offering one to the wounded veteran and one to his host, 
 they were soon enveloped in a fragrant atmosphere, the more 
 noticeable from the contrast it afforded to the prevalent odour of 
 the hotel. 
 
 "Landlord," said the philosopher, after a whiff or two, " I have 
 decided to sit up to-night, with your permission. I slept enor 
 mously last night." 
 
 " Don't see why you can't bunk with the soger," replied the 
 landlord. 
 
 " My dear sir, I am engaged in an investigation that requires a 
 great deal of patient thought " 
 
 " You can think in bed, I guess." 
 
 " But I have not time for entomological studies, my dear sir," 
 replied Mr. Smith, coolly. The other smokers stared at him 
 through the smoke. The big word vanquished them. 
 
 "Air you a preacher?" said the host, after a pause. 
 
 No." 
 
 " Air you a doctor F 
 
 " No. I have dabbled a little in medical lore, but I do not 
 belong to the profession." 
 
 " Air you looking for land hereaway V persisted the host. 
 
 " No. I am looking for a lady and her husband, and a little 
 girl named Nellie, who have recently arrived in this neighbour 
 hood from New York probably two days ago." 
 
 " Yaas !" responded the landlord, " that's Sponder ! He bought 
 yon farm on the peraira. It's a good farm, too. Sponder bought 
 it a month ago. He went to Noo Yawk after his wife and darter 
 jist two weeks ago. The little one is a spry gal. She is about the 
 size of my Sally thar," and he pointed to a ten year old pledge. 
 " Her name is Nellie. Her har is as black as the dickens, and so 
 is her eyes ! He got here night before last, and I hauled him and 
 his plunder out to his farm." 
 
 Mr. Smith smoked quietly for several minutes and meditated. 
 The description so rapidly given of the black-eyed Nellie did not 
 at all correspond with his anticipations. 
 
 " Did you know Mr. Sponder before he came F he asked. 
 
 " Oh yaas ! We was pardners over in Illenoy in land speckilla- 
 tions. He has been here off and on a dozen times this summer." 
 He rose as he spoke and lighted a lantern. " I hear the down 
 train coming, and must go to the deep-o."
 
 ON THE EIGHT TRACK. 241 
 
 "I will go with yon, landlord," said Mr. Smith. "I have 
 decided to return to New Washington. Mr. Sponder is evidently 
 not the gentleman I seek. Allow rne to settle for my entertain 
 ment. I have the honour to bid you good night, inadame." 
 
 It was raining as they left the hotel. The wounded warrior sat 
 stolidly sucking at the stump of his cigar. Over the roar of the 
 approaching train the hotel inhabitants Jieard the cheery tones of 
 Mr. Smith's voice singing lustily, 
 
 " A wet sheet and a flowing sea, 
 And a wind that follows fast!" 
 
 " He sings prime !" said the warrior decidedly, " and his cigars 
 are prime. But my belief is that he's a Johnny Eeb, and he's 
 after no good up hyar." 
 
 " Eeb be hanged !" said the landlady, " what put that notion in 
 your head f" 
 
 u Well, ma'am," replied the soldier, " he talks jist as smooth as 
 grease ; he slings his cigars about as if they was made of Connec 
 ticut tobaccer at a cent a piece ; he gave your little girl a dollar 
 greenback I seed him and he is so bloody polite ! I tell you, 
 ma'am, he's a Johnny Eeb. I hev bin among them cattle, and I 
 know 'em. He's a Johnny Eeb 1" 
 
 OHAPTEE XLVII. 
 ON THE EIGHT TRACK. 
 
 nnHE patience with which Mr. Smith encountered his various 
 J- disappointments was very remarkable. In his weekly letters 
 to his friend the rector, he recounted the salient points in his 
 adventures, and always had a new theory to suggest upon which 
 he would act in the coming week. He spent the entire winter in 
 explorations of western towns, always in vain, as the reader 
 knows. 
 
 He was at Omaha in the last week of March, and pursuing his 
 steadfast plan of asking questions whenever he could find an 
 interlocutor civil enough to answer him, he suddenly fell in with 
 the only man in America who could have given him the informa 
 tion he sought He was a " switch tender" in the railway station, 
 
 1C
 
 242 TEE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 and Mr. Smith found him because he made it an invariable rnle 
 to interrogate every railway official he could induce to listen to 
 and answer him. This one was a countryman, and had come over 
 in the Pallas ! As soon as Mr. Smith learned this fact he ascer 
 tained when the man would be at liberty, and invited him to 
 meet him at his hotel and dine with him. The switchman was 
 punctual, with a clean face and decent apparel his Sunday suit, 
 in fact. 
 
 They had dinner in a private room, and when his guest was as 
 full of dinner as his capacity would allow, Mr. Smith pumped him 
 dry. 
 
 He knew Butler on the ship, went with him and his wife and 
 child to the railway station in New York, saw him- buy his tickets 
 and saw his luggage checked to , a town in New Jersey within 
 forty miles of New York. Mr. Smith pressed a twenty dollar note 
 upon his countryman, paid his hotel bill, and started the same 
 night for New York. 
 
 It was all plain sailing now. He wrote the shortest letter 
 of the series to Mr. Harwood, full of joyful anticipations, and 
 promising full details a week later ; and when he arrived at the 
 Jersey village he suddenly remembered that it was the post-office 
 address given him by Haw r der the year before. The first step was 
 to find Hawder. 
 
 He had dressed himself in homespun garments, which he had 
 procured in the West, and with a knapsack on his back he began 
 his search in the village. The post-master informed him that 
 Hawder lived a few miles off, and directed him to " Baird's Tav 
 ern," whence he could be directed to Hawder's residence by a 
 straight road. It was afternoon, horribly inclement, a sharp storm 
 of rain mingled with sleet was progressing, but Mr. Smith reso 
 lutely set out, in defiance of wind and weather. 
 
 The gentle reader is thus brought to the opening chapter of this 
 truthful history. Before midnight Barston knew where the child 
 was, and had decided accurately how to gain possession of her. 
 
 He went to Baird's tavern, where Nellie, totally unconscious of 
 his presence, once or twice flitted momently in sight. The strong 
 man could scarcely restrain himself when he saw her, but he did. 
 Near midnight, having ascertained where she slept, he got a lad 
 der from the stable and entered her room from the window. She 
 was asleep in her crib, and kneeling by it Barston took her in his 
 arms and held her close to his beating heart. He pressed his lips 
 to hers as she opened her eyes, and whispered:
 
 0.V THE BIGHT TRACK 243 
 
 " Nellie, Nellie ! my darling, don't speak. If you know me, 
 kiss me !" 
 
 "Cousin Lacy !" said the child, clinging to his neck. " Oh, take 
 ine to mamma !" 
 
 " I will, my precious baby ; but don't speak above a whisper." 
 
 He had a railway rug on his arm, and wrapping the child in it 
 after he had enveloped her in his own coat, he gathered up her 
 clothing, and taking her in his arms again descended the ladder 
 and walked swiftly to Hawder's house. When he arrived there 
 he remembered that lie had been cautioned against possible con 
 tagion, and alarmed for the child he continued his walk, crossing 
 the bridge at the mouth of a creek, and then taking the high road 
 he walked a dozen miles before he reached a railway station. 
 Here he found a little fury of a stove, red hot, and by its light he 
 dressed the happy child in her proper garments. A freight train, 
 with one passenger car attached, passed the station as the dawn 
 appeared, and a little after sunrise he was in New York. 
 
 He had been a week within reach of Nellie before he could 
 accomplish his purpose. Hawder was sick of enteric fever, and he 
 had nursed him a night or two. Afterwards he was baffled once 
 and again by Butler's watchfulness, and on the night of his bold 
 attempt he had seen this worthy drinking himself into a state of 
 utter helplessness. 
 
 It was Sunday when he reached New York. He took Nellie to 
 his hotel and locked himself in his chamber with her ; and then 
 his manhood deserted him, or he attained a new advance in man 
 hood, whichever the reader pleases. He threw himself on the bed 
 and burst into tears. 
 
 Nothing could be more touching or more charming than the ten 
 der ministrations of the little fairy he had rescued. She fluttered 
 round him, cried with him, kissed him, patted his cheek with her 
 hand, wiped his eyes with her pinafore, promised him unlimited 
 good things when they got home, and finally got him to sit up 
 and take her on his knee. 
 
 "My darling," he said, "we cannot get a ship for throe days, 
 then we will go home. But you cannot be out of my uight one 
 solitary minute until we see jour mamma. I must take you 
 wherever I go. And now I want you to go to sleep while I wash 
 my face and order breakfast. Don't tell anybody that you saw 
 me crying." 
 
 "No, only mamma."
 
 244 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 Lacy blushed like a girl. " My dear," lie said, " I fear you have 
 made the "worst possible exception." 
 
 " I must tell mamma. She likes me to tell her everything about 
 you." 
 
 "Does she?" said Swiss. " Well, you are a wise little woman, 
 and I will think about it. Will you go to sleep now f 
 
 "Yes. Kiss me good night. Won't we have a good ride on 
 Roland when we get home !" and she coiled herself up in the bed 
 and was asleep in five minutes. 
 
 Mr. Barston took advantage of the opportunity to resume his 
 ordinary habiliments. He could not buy any garments for Nellie, 
 as it was Sunday, so he spent the day in his room with her. She 
 was amiable, and allowed him to smoke ad libitum. 
 
 The next day he procured all the attire that Nellie needed, and 
 a good lot that she did not need, then went with her to the office 
 of the steamship company and secured passage for Wednesday. 
 
 On the next day he took Nellie to see the ship and arrange their 
 luggage. He had bought a lot of toys, which filled one trunk, and 
 at last got their stateroom arranged to his satisfaction. Before he 
 left the ship he learned that "Mr. and Mrs. Barston" were going 
 in the same vessel, and that they, had the opposite stateroom. 
 Thinking the name rather peculiar, he drove back to the agent's 
 office, as he could get no information on the ship, and there he 
 learned that Mr. Barston was a very nice gentleman, with a red 
 scar on his forehead. Then Mr. Smith asked and obtained per 
 mission to transfer his ticket to Mr. Jones and son, as Mr. Smith 
 and daughter were obliged to change their plans. 
 
 The rest of the day was employed in procuring a new set of 
 habiliments for Nellie, and explaining to her why the disguise was 
 necessary. He did not dare trust Butler, though he felt certain 
 that he would not interfere with the return of the child. He would 
 not wait for another ship, and the only course left was to disguise 
 himself and Nellie both. They were transformed into Mr. Jones 
 and son before dark, and as the ship was to sail early in the day, 
 they went aboard on Tuesday night. 
 
 Captain Strong has already related the main incidents of the 
 passage. Mr. Jones and son landed at Queenstown, and proceed 
 ing to Dublin, crossed by the fast mail to Holyhead, and reached 
 London the next morning. Pausing only long enough to ascertain 
 that Lady Lacy was at the Red Hall, he went directly to Laving- 
 ton. As he and Nellie had a compartment to themselves, he
 
 ON THE EIGHT TRACK 245 
 
 changed her dress once more, though he had no opportunity to 
 resume his own identity. He was too eager to wait, and on the 
 arrival of the train he took a cab and drove to the Bed Hall with 
 all possible speed. 
 
 His last letter had announced Nellie found, and Lady Lacy, 
 expecting fuller intelligence by the mail just due, was driving 
 into Lavington, hoping to find letters at the rectory. Swiss saw 
 the carriage half a mile distant. A sudden fit of shyness seized 
 him, and stopping his vehicle, he kissed Nellie, wild with delight 
 and excitement, set her out on the roadside, and bade his jehu re 
 trace his steps. He looked out of the back window and saw the 
 carriage stop, Nellie fly to the side, and clambering up the steps, 
 get torn into bits between Miss Tarn worth and her mother, as they 
 fought over the child like a pair of raging tigresses. Then the 
 carriage turned backward also, and as it disappeared Mr. Barston 
 lighted a cigar and soliloquized: 
 
 " It would have been very absurd of me to have shown myself 
 to those lovely women in this sort of a costume. I don't think 
 they would ever get over the shock 1 How they did claw my poor 
 little baby ! How their precious tongues will wag the rest of this 
 day ! What yarns Nellie will spin ! Hum ! My lady likes her to 
 talk about me, does she? Well, let the child talk! Ah, Bet!" 
 and he shook his fist at the retreating carriage " the next time 
 we meet, you will be mine or, by the three kings, I will steal 
 Nellie again 1" and he laughed gleefully. 
 
 The cabby plodded on at a jog trot. He had earned his fare by 
 the fast driving towards the lied Hall. The "old gent "did not 
 care to get back so rapidly, so he would take his time. He had 
 no special directions, but concluded the old gent wished to go to 
 the inn, where he had sent his luggage. He peeped once or twice 
 through the trap in the roof, but could only see the outlines of the 
 old gent, as a fine cloud of smoke enveloped him. He seemed to 
 be more than half asleep. But the inn was reached at last, and 
 when the old gent blundered out, and into the sanded common 
 room, he very nearly upset another " gent," who was not so old, 
 and was quite surprised to recognize his coinpagnon de voyage, 
 the soi disant Mr. Barstou.
 
 246 TEE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 CHAPTER XLYIII. 
 THE CAIN MARK. 
 
 IF the gentle reader will go back to the twentieth chapter of 
 this history, the very abrupt manner in which Sir John Lacy 
 was dismissed from the narrative will be apparent. The time has 
 now arrived when it will be in order to take up the thread there 
 dropped, and the author recurs to that time with the greater re 
 luctance, because it adds another to the already multiplied indica 
 tions that the story is drawing to a close. 
 
 After Barston had parted from him, the baronet rode slowly 
 along, thinking of the exciting colloquy just over, and the change 
 wrought in his purposes and sentiments. 
 
 "I must tell Eet all about it," he thought. "Poor girl! she 
 has been annoyed, no doubt, though she has said nothing. I 
 must also manage to get her diamonds back ;" and he took the box 
 from his pocket and looked at the gems, flashing in the moonlight. 
 The satellite was just appearing, full, above the horizon. "I 
 wonder how much the trinkets are worth ? Here is the Dark 
 Wood. It will save a mile to cross here. The hedge is low. So ! 
 Saladin ! Over we go !" 
 
 As the horse leaped and alighted at the edge of the wood, a 
 man started up from the ground and confronted the rider. 
 
 " Hillo !" said Sir John, thrusting the jewel case into his bosom, 
 " who are you T 
 
 " I was about to put the same question to you," said the 
 stranger, coming a little more into the moonlight, " but I believe 
 your name is Lacy ?" 
 
 " Having discovered this fact," replied Sir John, " you will, per 
 haps acknowledge that I am on my own land and have the right 
 to ask your business." 
 
 " I am not so sure of that," said the other, laughing disagree 
 ably, " your title to the land may be questioned, perhaps. You 
 are married, I hear ?" 
 
 "What the devil do you mean by this insolence 1 ?" said Sir 
 John. " Get out of my path and get off my property. You are a 
 tresspasser." 
 
 " Softly," replied the stranger, " you are making too many as 
 sertions in one. You cannot pass until I have some speech with
 
 THE CAIN MARK. 247 
 
 you. I thought of calling upon you at the Ked Hall, but this is 
 better." 
 
 " If you are drunk I can overlook this offence. If you are sober, 
 I caution you to take yourself out of reach. I am a magistrate, 
 and am bound to have you up for trespassing on a gentleman's 
 grounds, unless," he added, shaking his rein and touching his 
 horse with the spur, " unless you choose to apologize and de 
 camp." 
 
 " How easily I can change all that lordly air," said the tres 
 passer, laughing again, " with a word or two. You cannot pass, 
 I tell you, until I have had my say !" 
 
 Sir John snatched his sabre from the scabbard and shook it 
 wrathfully over his head. 
 
 " If you do not clear the path on the instant," he said, sternly, 
 " I swear I will cut you down, you scoundrel !" 
 
 " Pooh !" said Butler, composedly, " the greater part of my life 
 has been spent among real swords, where they were thicker than 
 the twigs above your head ! Put up your holiday weapon, and 
 keep it to frighten boys withal. You dare not use it upon me !" 
 
 Something in the man's manner impressed Sir John, and he 
 lowered his weapon. 
 
 " Say what you have to say, then," he answered, " and oblige 
 me by being brief as possible. I yield to your madness, for you 
 must be mad, as you are clearly not drunk. What is your busi 
 ness F 
 
 "I have not decided fully," said Butler. " Perhaps I may let 
 you off easily, as you have lowered your tone. I want to know 
 more about your wife before I can tell you what I require." 
 
 " Hark you, Mr. Mountebank," said Sir John, struggling with 
 his rising temper, " speak respectfully of Lady Lacy, or " 
 
 "Pshaw!" said Butler, rudely, again laying his hand on the 
 bridle, " you had better be sure that she is Lady Lacy before you 
 lose your temper. What are you doing ?" 
 
 " Out of my path on your peril !" said the baronet, rising in his 
 stirrups as his sabre circled round his head. " By Heaven, your 
 life hangs upon a thread ! I will cleave your head in three sec 
 onds if you arc within reach of my sword. One, two, three !" and 
 the bright blade, flashing in the moonlight, descended like a 
 bolt from the heavens. 
 
 "Madman !*' said Butler, throwing up a thick stick he had 
 plucked from the hedge, "would you kill your brother?"
 
 248 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 The keen blade cut through the tough cudgel, and though the 
 force of the blow was broken by the parry, it bit deeply into the 
 upturned forehead of the trespasser, blinding him with the quick 
 flowing blood. Pressing heavily upon the bridle, the horse reared, 
 struck out with his forelegs, and fell over upon his rider. Elbert 
 Lacy passed his hand over his eyes as the horse, struggling to his 
 feet, galloped away towards the Hall, snorting with fright. 
 
 He drew the motionless body of his brother into the moonlight 
 and looked anxiously upon his pale face. The frown was rapidly 
 fading from his countenance, giving place to an appalling calm 
 which Elbert knew from many experiences betokened death! 
 He put his hand first cleansing it from blood stains, on the 
 dewy grass upon his brother's heart. It had ceased to beat! 
 As he withdrew it from his vest a small jewel case fell upon the 
 ground. He raised it, read the inscription " Lacy," and placed 
 it in his own pocket. The sabre had fallen from the dead man's 
 hand. Elbert raised it, wiped the stain upon his coat sleeve, and 
 returned it to its sheath. 
 
 All this time the sound of the hoofstrokes of the flying horse 
 came floating back upon the breeze. 
 
 " Dead !" said Elbert, " and by my hand ! And he has left the 
 Cain 'brand on my forehead to abide while my life lasts ! Of all 
 the horrors that have darkened that life this is the culmination. 
 Guiltless in the sight of heaven, I swear !" and he lifted his hand 
 solemnly to the solemn sky, " yet no stream can be found to wash 
 away this stain ! Oh, Jack, how joyfully would I change places 
 with you, poor boy P 
 
 He sat down upon the ground, took out the jewel case and 
 opened it. The diamonds seemed to gather up all the rays of the 
 moonlight and flash them back into the eyes of Elbert Lacy, 
 mocking him with their weird and devilish glitter. 
 
 " Ay, ay P he said, " I have heard of you many a time, and I 
 would recognize you anywhere on the earth ! No Lacy can die 
 by Lacy's hand unless you are near !" 
 
 He thrust the box back into his pocket and rose from the 
 ground, picking up the two pieces of the cudgel and looking 
 curiously at the cut in the tough wood. It was a clean trans 
 verse cut, looking as if it had been made by the blow of an axe. 
 
 " The boy was a good sworder. If I had not chanced to pull 
 this from the hedge it would have been Elbert Lacy lying there 
 so still and calm. As it was, he has cut me to the bone I He
 
 THE GAIN HARK. 249 
 
 died aflame with rage, and I have killed him, without design 
 and without anger. It will take a portion of my life-long remorse 
 away to remember that ! It was the cursed curb that caused it 
 all ! The brute reared up and tore the rein from my hand at the 
 very instant that Jack cut at me !" 
 
 He knelt down by the body and looked earnestly at the up 
 turned face, calm and beautiful. There was a strange composure 
 in all that this outcast did, and his passions and feelings, tumul 
 tuous as they were, undoubtedly, were still held in perfect check. 
 Under happier tutelage his marred life would perhaps have been 
 brilliant and beneficent, for he had the attributes of noble man 
 hood, albeit all warped from their normal tendencies. 
 
 u How handsome he is !" he said, sadly, and he leaned over him 
 and kissed his cold forehead. " I would have died for you, 
 brother," he continued as he rose, " but it was not to be. The 
 curse that clings to the Lacy line has found you, Jack. My turn 
 next, and I care not how soon it comes !" 
 
 With the fragments of his cudgel in his hand he crossed the 
 hedge, swinging clear of it by an overhanging boiigh, and enter 
 ing the wood on the opposite side of the road which divided the 
 Lacy lands from the estate of Lord Morton, he suddenly found 
 the death he courted waiting for him. 
 
 In an open glade, so near that he could hear the trampling of 
 their feet, three men were pressing hardly upon a fourth. He 
 could see the flash of a knife in the hands of one of the assailants, 
 and without a moment's pause he dashed into the fray. 
 
 " Three upon one !" he shouted, as he felled the nearest with 
 his short cudgel. " Shame upon you, cowards !" 
 
 The others turned upon him with curses, leaving their intended 
 victim, who sunk bleeding to the ground. He had been cut in 
 the arm by the, knife, which the younger still held in his hand, as 
 he rushed upon Elbert Lacy. The latter, avoiding his assault by 
 springing aside, snatching a gun from the ground, discharged it at 
 the baffled robber before he could stop in his career. He fell 
 with a groan, and Lacy grappled immediately with the other, 
 receiving an ugly blow upon the head, but holding his grip 
 upon the throat of his brawny assailant with iron muscles. The 
 wounded gamekeeper crawled to his assistance, and between 
 them the poaclu-r was borne to the earth and his arms pinioned. 
 The others were already hors dc combat. 
 
 The struggle occurred near the road-side, and the sound of the
 
 250 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 gun shot attracted a passing laborer, who came rapidly to the 
 spot, directed by the shouts of the gamekeeper. And as Elbert 
 Lacy saw the newcomer approach, his grasp upon the prostrate 
 poacher relaxed, and he rolled over in a swoon by his side. 
 
 CHAPTEE XLIX. 
 THE KINSMEN. 
 
 " ~\TTELL met!" said Mr. Butler, as Swiss recoiled, "I was 
 VV thinking of you this moment!" 
 
 Mr. : Barston ?" said Swiss. 
 
 "Well, no!'' replied the other, "that was only a temporary 
 title, which I assumed for a purpose. Conie into my room, and I 
 will tell you about it." 
 
 He threw open a door as he spoke, and old Mr. Jones obeyed 
 his courteous gesture and entered the room. The other followed 
 him, and closing the door turned the key ! 
 
 " It would be inconvenient to be interrupted," he said, apolo 
 getically, " take a seat, pray. But if I may venture to say so, you 
 look so confoundedly ugly in that old tow wig that you would do 
 well to take it off ! So !" he continued, as Mr. Jones disappeared, 
 wig and gray beard and stooping shoulders and all, while hand 
 some Lacy Barston emerged from the ruins; "that is better! 
 and now, Lacy Barston, I may say to you that I knew you on the 
 ship as soon as you spoke !" 
 
 " Indeed !" said Barston, coolly. 
 
 " Yes ! I recognized the Lacy burr. There is no mistaking it." 
 
 " True," said Swiss. " I think I knew you, Elbert, or at least 
 that peculiarity of speech helped enlighten me. My dear cousin, 
 I offer you my hand with true affection." 
 
 " Stop a moment !" said the other, a little startled, " you don't 
 know yet what stains are on my hand " 
 
 "Neither do I care, Elbert. If your hand would 'incarnadine 
 multitudinous seas,' it is still the hand of my only living kinsman. 
 Give me your hand, Elbert !" 
 
 The other stood gazing irresolutely at him a moment, and then 
 sat down near him, his hands thrust into his pockets. 
 
 "Lacy," he said, speaking slowly and without any sign of 
 emotion, " I told you a large part of my miserable story on the
 
 THE KINSMEN. 251 
 
 ship yonder. I was half mad with drink, but I deliberately told 
 you every word because I would not sail under false colours with 
 you. But there are some things that I did not tell you, and you 
 must hear them uo\v. Where is Nellie ?" 
 
 u In her mother's arms. Where is your wife I I desire to be the 
 first to address her as Lady Lacy !" 
 
 " Never !" said his cousin. "She can never have the title. It 
 is a hatefqj name to me, since one of those cursed Harwoods has 
 borne it !" 
 
 " For shame, Elbert P said Barstou, reproachfully, " you come 
 of a gentle strain ; do not contradict your better instincts, and do 
 not insult me by rude speeches against the lady I love ! Eet 
 Harwood will be my wife if I ever have a wife.' 
 
 " Is it so? Well, I will say no more, and will try to forget her 
 haughty insolence. There ! there ! I have done. Kitty is abed, 
 slowly recovering from the effects of the voyage. You shall see 
 her anon, and if you wish to call her by the title you name, after 
 you hear my story to the end, I shall not hinder you. Will you 
 listen r 
 
 " Assuredly." 
 
 " You know all about me up to our parting at Liverpool, when 
 we came from Australia, except that I had been fortunate at the 
 gold diggings and brought some money home." 
 
 " I knew that, too, Elbert," said Barston ; " the captain told me 
 of the bag of gold dust you gave into his charge." 
 
 " Ay, ay !" replied Elbert, " I gave him that before several wit 
 nesses. My object was to make all who knew it suppose that was 
 all my wealth. It was not the tithe of it! I had ten times the 
 sum belted round my waist, in Bank of England notes ; and I 
 have it still, or Kitty has, which is better." 
 
 " It makes little difference, Elbert," answered Swiss. " I have 
 more than I can spend, and my purse is yours whenever you 
 need it." 
 
 u You are kind, but there is no need. Well, after you saw me 
 and Kitty over yonder at her house, I wandered away into the 
 country around Lavington, trying to humanize myself by recall 
 ing events of my boyhood. Alas! every spot I saw and recog- 
 ni/ed amid the changes wrought by the lapse of a dozen years 
 and more, only brought back the memory of the wrongs that 
 drove me from these scenes ! 1 spent the day brooding over these 
 wrongs, and at nightfall I was alone in the Dark Wood, when
 
 252 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 Jack came suddenly upon me, leaping his horse over the hedge. 
 Ah ! I see you anticipate what is to follow. He did not know me, 
 and I, moody and irritable, chafed him with rude words. Before 
 
 I knew it he had torn his sword from the scabbard, and gave 
 
 me this this accursed Cain brand ! 
 
 " It is a Cain brand, for I killed him ! I had my hand on his 
 bridle, and when his blow came, like a thunderbolt, I called my 
 name to him, and pressing on his rein, his horse reared and fell on 
 him, crushing out his bright young life, and taking the last ves 
 tige of human emotion out of mine. I killed him innocently, I 
 need not tell you but I killed him my brother ! 
 
 " Will you take my hand now, Mr. BarstonP 
 
 " Yes," said Barston, clasping his extended hand while he 
 passed his other arm around the other's neck. " Poor old Elbert ! 
 I am so sorry for all you have suffered! But your sufferings are 
 over, I hope. In the first place, your story does not happen to be 
 true. You did not kill Jack !" 
 
 " What say you ?" said Lacy, starting to his feet. " You mean 
 I am guiltless of intention but guilty in fact " 
 
 " I don't mean any such rubbish. Jack did not die of any hurt 
 inflicted by you, accidentally or otherwise. He died a natural 
 death!" 
 
 Elbert sat watching him with wonder in his eyes. 
 
 " It is true, Elbert. You know I would not lie to you ! Poor 
 Jack's life hung upon a thread. He had organic disease of the 
 heart. I knew it years before, for I have studied the science of 
 medicine. Dr. Holly knew it, and pronounced it the cause of his 
 sudden death j and finally Dr. Cardon, who is the ultimate author 
 ity on heart diseases in England, pronounced this case a perfect 
 specimen when I told him Jack's symptoms. Cheer up, Elbert, 
 and spend the rest of your days in thanking Heaven that this 
 burden is lifted from your heart." 
 
 " Can this be true?" said Lacy, as if stunned. " Have I been 
 withering under this blighting curse all these years ! Why, if 
 your story is true, Barston, this beauty spot of mine may be ob 
 literated also !" 
 
 " Perhaps. Let me look at it. Of all the sworders I have ever 
 known Jack was the best, excepting only his teacher. I marvel 
 that you lived to tell the story of that encounter." 
 
 " I had a tough ashen staff in my hand, with which I parried 
 the blow. He cut through it as if it had been a pipe stem. I had
 
 THE KINSMEN. 253 
 
 been sped, no doubt, if his maddened horse had not reared at the 
 same moment. Can the scar be cured F 
 
 " It can be mado much lighter, at least. Will you submit to 
 some pain and annoyance for a few weeks F 
 
 " To get this accursed mark off my face I would submit to a 
 year's torture upon the rack. When will you begin F 
 
 ' Nay, you shall have no bungler," said his cousin. " I will get 
 Cardon. Let us go to London and consult him. I will go with 
 you." 
 
 " When F 
 
 " To-night, if you will." 
 
 " Agreed. My dear Barston, there is no man like you on the 
 earth ! If I could make you know how this hideous scar bites 
 into my brain you would not wonder at my eagerness. And now 
 hear a word or two more. I never intended to take little Nellie 
 away. You discovered that I married Kitty at Stirling. I per 
 suaded her to call herself Miss Tainworth because your parson 
 friend was spooney upon her, and I was sure he would hear of the 
 marriage. It was pure spite against him that prompted me. 
 When I met Kitty at Clifton it Avas accidental. She had Nellie 
 with her, and we were compelled to take her. I confess that I 
 enjoyed the thought that her mother would be distracted, but I 
 sent her a note by the tug to relieve her anxiety. When we 
 reached America I could not bear to take the child far out into 
 the West ; and indeed my wife would not consent. She is Jack's 
 child, and I was a prey to remorse on his account, and I drank 
 myself drunk nearly every day to escape from memory. Kitty 
 told me the day after you took the child that you had done it, and 
 she pleaded so earnestly to come back to England that I had to 
 yield. One day at sea, and your disguise and Nellie's were wasted 
 on me. The odour of salt water brought back all my faculties. 
 It was pleasant to watch you and Hawder and let you think you 
 were unknown ; but I have had no unkind thought in my heart at 
 any time against you, and more than once I have been on the 
 very verge of a full confession to you when your woman's voice 
 was singing in my ears ! Ah, Barston ! no woman can withstand 
 you. If she listens she is vanquished 1" 
 
 Swiss blushed and laughed. 
 
 "Now I will go tell Kitty. You will bo ready at train time? 
 And if your London doctor undertakes this cure you will stay by 
 mo until it is done F
 
 254 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 " I will. We have an hour or more. I will meet you at tlie 
 station. Greet Lady Lacy in my name and tell her that her hus 
 band's cousin is her cousin also, and claims kindred." 
 
 " Stop, Barston," said the other, as he unlocked the door, " until 
 this blot is removed, no Lady Lacys, if you please ; no Sir El- 
 berts, but my old name inherited from the pirate captain, the 
 greatest thief and scoundrel that ever cursed the earth with his 
 presence Mr. Butler !" 
 
 CH APTEE L. 
 
 LOVE TOKENS. 
 
 WITH patient self-denial Lacy Barston staid by his cousin's 
 side while Dr. Cardon wrought with the stubborn scar. He 
 talked, read the papers, explained multitudes of conventionalisms 
 of which Sir Elbert was totally ignorant, but which must be 
 known by all who move in refined society. He drove out with 
 him through the brilliant streets at night, when the bandaged 
 head of his cousin could not be seen, in their Hansom. And 
 when the baronet retired for the night Swiss would steal an hour 
 or so from his own slumbers to write to Parson Johnny. 
 
 He could only tell him that he was kept there in attendance 
 upon a friend, undergoing a prolonged surgical operation, and 
 that he would fly to Lavington as soon as this duty was accom 
 plished. Elbert steadfastly insisted upon maintaining his incog 
 nito, until he could face the world without a blemish upon his 
 countenance. 
 
 One day Barston was walking down Regent street, and he 
 suddenly ran against the rector. With a shout of delight he 
 clutched his arm, and hurrying him into the Hay market, entered 
 the Western Club. Seated in the smoking room Swiss bade him 
 " talk and tell him everything he knew." 
 
 " The best news I have, dear old Swiss, is that Clare and Eet 
 have just gone to Paris " 
 
 " Well, that is a promising beginning !" ejaculated Swiss, with 
 an elongated countenance. " How long will they stay ?' 
 
 " I cannot tell," replied Mr. Harwood, with a little blush ; they 
 are on a shopping expedition. Miss Tarn worth is to be married a 
 mouth hence, and said she must go to Paris to get some 'things.' 
 I don't know what they are."
 
 LOVE TOKENS. 255 
 
 "Where is Nellie F 
 
 " At Hanvood House." 
 
 " Why did you not accompany the ladies ?" 
 
 " They would not allow me. I am permitted to go after them 
 when notified. My dear Swiss, in one month from this day I 
 shall be invested with authority to regulate the movements of one 
 of them, at least. In the meantime submission to all sorts of 
 absurd whims is my daily lesson." 
 
 " Learn it well, Parson. You will find the knowledge useful 
 hereafter. Please give me the ladies' address." 
 
 " Hotel de Lisle et Albion," answered the rector. " Lord and 
 Lady Morton are there. Come with me to Harwood House, 
 Swiss.?' 
 
 " I cannot, Johnny. I am sorry, but I must attend upon my 
 friend here for a week or two more. He is undergoing a painful 
 and tedious operation, and I promised to stay by him." 
 
 " Who is it, Swiss f 
 
 " Ah ! that is a secret. I will tell you later. This is the 
 fifteenth. Do you mean to tell me that you will be married on 
 the fifteenth of August?" 
 
 " That is the happy day, Swiss. Oh ! how I wish you also " 
 
 " Thank you, Johnny. I think I shall ! Don't ever tell that I 
 said so, I pray you. But I shall set my wits to work to bring it to 
 pass ! It would be jolly to be married on the same day with you ! 
 Where do you go for the honeymoon ?" 
 
 " Through Scotland, the Lochs, the Trossachs, everywhere, 
 any where. You know I missed that trip last summer." 
 
 " So did I. The route is faultless. Would you object to have 
 Eet and me in the party ?" 
 
 " Object ! Oh, Swiss ! Poor Swiss ! Have you spoken to Ket 
 on the subject F 
 
 " I have not spoken to her for three years ! When I speak to 
 her again I will speak to purpose ! My dear Johnny, my whole 
 soul is full of her ! Without one word of encouragement I am still 
 so happy, whenever I think of her, and that is always, night and 
 day, asleep and awake, that I know I shall win her! If she did 
 not love me in requital for all the volume of love I feel for her 
 why, Parson, it would be like a vacuum in nature. I am sure of 
 her ! The horror, the dismay, the madness of failure Pooh ! It 
 is one of those things that are simply inconceivable !" 
 
 " Poor Swiss !"
 
 256 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 " Get out, yon sleek old rascal !" said Barston, " do you suppose 
 that you are the only man that knows how to court F 
 
 " Ah, Swiss ! if it were anybody but Eet ! I have tried to get 
 her to talk of you a dozen times since you brought Nellie back. 
 She listens to all I say, but she never mentions your name!" 
 
 " Don't she f ' said Swiss, with a grin. 
 
 " No," answered the rector, a little nettled " and Clare tells me 
 that she has attempted once or twice to joke her about you, and 
 that she receives all these attempts with imperturbable gravity." 
 
 " Does she ?'" said Swiss, the grin broadening. 
 
 " Upon my word, Swiss, your conceit is intolerable !" said the 
 rector, in a rage. " It is bad enough for me to see how hopeless 
 your case is, without having to endure that complacent smirk 
 too !" 
 
 " Why, you poor old dunderhead !" said Barston, " all the symp 
 toms you have described are highly favourable ! I am more than 
 ever convinced that she has a liking for me." 
 
 "Please enlighten me, then," said the bewildered Parson, " for 
 I vow I am entirely in the dark as to your method of extracting 
 comfort from the signs I have given you." 
 
 " Promise to keep the secret, then." 
 
 " I promise." 
 
 "Eh Men!" said Mr. Barston, leaning back in his chair, "to be 
 gin " 
 
 " Stop, Swiss !" said the rector, suddenly. " I have one more 
 shot before you begin. Do you remember sending a note to Eet 
 when you sailed from Bristol? Well, she handed it to me. I 
 read it. You requested, poor boy, that she would show herself to 
 you from the Downs ! Ah ! you remember, I see. I caught up 
 my hat, and bade her come to the Downs before your ship passed, 
 and she " 
 
 " Go on, Parson ! what the mischief are you stopping for ?" 
 
 "I don't like to tell you, Swiss! She took back your note, 
 folded it coolly, and said, i Too late, Johnny ! the ship must have 
 sidled at daylight,' and she sailed out of the room with the most 
 
 perfect indifference What ails you? You will have a fit if 
 
 you cough and splutter in that fashion ! Laugh out, you goose, 
 if you see anything amusing and encouraging in my story !" 
 
 "Excuse me, Parson!" said Barstou, recovering his gravity. "I 
 will explain my hilarity anon. To begin : Women were intended by 
 Nature to govern the world. All of these modern ' womens' rights '
 
 LOVE TOKENS. 257 
 
 leagues are miserable caricatures of a grand truth. Also, all of this 
 awful rubbish about l natural selection ' has a golden thread of truth 
 mingled with enormous masses of lies and bosh ! and that truth is 
 the essential domination of woman. Do not misunderstand me. 
 Her husband is her lord, and the true woman delights to acknow 
 ledge his authority. But she does verily reign in and through 
 him with despotic sway. You spoke of your < authority ' a little 
 while ago. Why, you simple-minded Parson, do you not know 
 that one tear would melt your authority at once ? And what do 
 you think would be the power of a pint of tears all poured out at 
 once? They keep them, man, subject to call; an army of rain 
 drops ; swift, prompt, irresistible. No man who is not a brute can 
 withstand a true woman's tears !" 
 
 " That sounds quite rational !" quoth the Parson. 
 
 " Rational ! Of course ! Now, secondly, they have another 
 troop of invincible forces warriors, called smiles. Don't you 
 know, Johnny, that you would jump in the river to gain a smile 
 when it is withheld ?" 
 
 " Yes, perhaps !" 
 
 " Then, Parson," continued the orator, " women are secretive in 
 all matters pertaining to their affections. I cannot say they de 
 ceive you, but they allow you to deceive yourself, and if there is 
 any one thing which a spooney man is sure to do, it is to make a 
 goose of himself whenever occasion offers. Eet never said she 
 disliked me, did she f 
 
 " No ; I tell you she says nothing whatever about you !" 
 
 " And, therefore, you stretch your long neck up and think you 
 have read her heart ! l If she did not dislike Lacy Barston she 
 would be certain to speak of him.' Now, try the other proposition 1 
 If she did not like Lacy Barston she would be certain to speak of 
 him !" 
 
 "Very well, Mr. Swiss," said the rector, "have it your own 
 way. You forget that I have known a long time that you loved 
 Ket, and that I have watched very anxiously for some symptom 
 that was favourable. In vain, Swiss, in vain !" 
 
 " Keep on watching, Parson," said Barstou, " but keep your 
 mouth shut." 
 
 " No use to watch, Swiss ! That morning at Clifton satisfied 
 me ! Why, if you had written that note to me I should have 
 crawled to the river on my knees if I could have got there no 
 otherwise. Just think of it 1 here you were about to start on a
 
 258 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 long journey, three or four thousand miles, to look for her own 
 child, and all you asked was just to look at her as your vessel 
 passed the place ! Why, if she had hated the sight of you she 
 might have done it out of mere gratitude ! It was all humbug 
 about the ship starting too soon. I remember now that the cab 
 was there ! Ah, Swiss, it was heartless ! heartless !" 
 
 Barston rolled about in his cushioned chair in strong convul 
 sions. Mr. Harwood took his hat and stalked with dignity to the 
 door. 
 
 " I must bid you good morning, Mr. Barston," he said, " and I 
 beg you will not restrain your merriment on my account. I have 
 read of laughing hyenas somewhere, and," he concluded sardoni 
 cally, " I have also heard of people who laughed on the wrong 
 side of their mouths!" 
 
 OHAPTEE LI. 
 
 SIR ELBERT LACY. 
 
 IT was the first day of August, and all Nature was baking. The 
 various personages, in whose fate the charming reader is spe 
 cially interested, were all in fair Devon. Morton Priory was 
 inhabited. Clare, with numberless trunks, had taken up her abode 
 there ; Lord and Lady Morton claimed her, and Eet relinquished 
 her at their urgent solicitation. Distracting parcels came from 
 Paris day by day, and Miss Tarn worth spent many hours in flutter 
 ing from one trunk to another, gloating over the flimsy wealth 
 wrought by the nimble fingers of French modistes. 
 
 Sir Elbert Lacy and Mr. Barston had returned from London on 
 the previous day. The scar upon the brow of the baronet was 
 nearly obliterated ; a faint line remained, visible only when some 
 strong excitement sent the Lacy blood to his forehead. 
 
 Lady Lacy was at the Red Hall. She was in the Lollard's room, 
 near the library, when a carriage came through the arch, and 
 grated on the gravel. While she wondered who her early visitors 
 might be, a servant brought the cards : 
 
 " Sir Elbert Lacy" 
 " Lady Lacy." 
 
 With increased astonishment Ket directed the servant to show 
 the new comers into the library, and recognized Mr. Butler and
 
 SIR ELBEET LACY. 259 
 
 Kitty, both in faultless apparel, as they entered the apartment. 
 Eet arose and stood by the library table, while the visitors 
 quietly took the seats the servant placed. 
 
 " I owe you an apology, inadame," began Sir Elbert 
 
 " Pardon me !" said Eet " William, ask Mrs. Froome to come to 
 the library." She still stood, gazing intently at the composed 
 faces before her, until the rustling of Mrs. Frooine's dress an 
 nounced her presence. 
 
 " Proceed, sir," said Eet. 
 
 " Ah, Mrs. Froome P said the baronet ; " I might safely rely 
 upon you to recognize me. We have met once or twice within the 
 past few years 5 but you must now go back a score of years to 
 recall the features of Elbert Lacy P 
 
 The old woman went up to him, peered anxiously in his face, 
 then took his hand and kissed it. 
 
 " It is Sir Elbert Lacy, my lady P she said, turning to Eet. " It 
 is Master John's elder brother I" Eet looked at her with silent 
 incredulity. " Kay, my lady," continued Mrs. Froome, " if you 
 have any doubt, look here P She went to the opposite wall and 
 tore aside the crimson curtain from the portrait of the Eed Lacy. 
 Sir Elbert laughed, while a disagreeable sneer passed over his face, 
 and the red line on his forehead came into view. The resemblance 
 betwixt him and the picture was certainly very striking, and 
 Eet began to have some glimmering of the truth. 
 
 " Mrs. Froome," said Sir Elbert, "I remember a certain bin in 
 the wine cellar where my father had some South Side Madeira. 
 Do you think you could find a bottle ?" 
 
 Mrs. Froome rattled her keys, and looked doubtfully at Eet, 
 who was passing through certain mental exercises with lightning 
 rapidity. 
 
 " My lady P said she. 
 
 " Eeally, Mrs. Froome," said Sir Elbert, rudely, " there is no 
 necessity for this appeal. And the title is inaccurate also, unless 
 inadame may inherit it from the gentle Harwoods ! There is no 
 Lady Lacy here excepting this lady by my side." 
 
 " Why have you not asserted your claim earlier P said Eet, the 
 haughty Harwood blood mantling on cheek and forehead. 
 
 " Certain obstacles prevented, inadame," returned the other ; 
 " besides, I thought I would wait for my birthday. I believe I was 
 born on the first of August, Mrs. Froome V 9 
 
 " Yes, Sir Elbert ; at sunset."
 
 280 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 " Well, the Ides have come, if not gone. May I trouble you to 
 get the wine, I am athirst !" 
 
 Eet signed to Mrs. Froome, who rustled out of the room. 
 
 " Be seated, madame, I beg," said the baronet. ' The owner 
 ship of the old Madeira will hardly be questioned, I presume. I 
 shall have the pleasure of drinking your health presently. My 
 dear, remove your bonnet, and bid Mrs. Lacy welcome !" 
 
 Eet glanced from the window at the western sky. A dark cloud 
 was overspreading the heavens. She quietly put on a dainty little 
 chip hat that was lying on the table, and threw a waterproof 
 cloak over her shoulders. Mrs. Froome re-entered the library, 
 followed by William, with a tray containing wine glasses and 
 biscuits. Mrs. Froome placed a cobwebbed bottle on the table, 
 and William drew the cork with exemplary caution. The odour 
 of the wine filled the apartment. Eet was moving to the door, 
 when Kitty started up and caught her cloak. 
 
 " Oh, my lady !" she began 
 
 " Perdition!" said her husband. "I cautioned you against this 
 folly, Kitty, before we came. Please remember that you outrank 
 this lady, who comes of a mushroom stock in comparison with the 
 Lacy strain. She is the widow of a cadet of the Lacy blood, and 
 that is all." 
 
 " You are mistaken, sir," said Eet, coldly. " The Harwoods 
 were nobles of England some centuries before the Lacys were ever 
 heard of. Allow me to pass, Kitty, I am going out." 
 
 " My carriage is at your service, madame," said Sir Elbert, " but 
 as a storm is approaching, I think you will be wiser to remain. I 
 hope you do not take offence at my remark; it was rather intended 
 for Lady Lacy's ears than for yours. Moreover, I remember that 
 you rushed out, a few years ago, with haughtier greeting to Lord 
 Morton's discharged gamekeeper. I think it was just below this 
 window !" 
 
 " I leave you here," said Eet, with no mark of emotion upon her 
 features, except a slight expansion of her nostrils, " not knowing 
 whether you have rights here or no. If you have not you are not 
 welcome. If you have I should stifle in the atmosphere of your 
 
 house if I remained. I decline your carriage, with thanks " 
 
 The door opened as she spoke and admitted Swiss u Oh, Lacy 
 Barston !" she said, while strangely mingled tears of rage and joy 
 rained from her eyes " take me away ! take me away !" 
 
 Barston caught her hands, drew them passionately to his breast,
 
 SIR ELBERT LACY. 261 
 
 with an inarticulate cry, and then taking her hand upon his arm, 
 faced Sir Elbert with stern displeasure. 
 
 " You have not done well, Elbert Lacy !" he said, while the other 
 coolly sipped the wine. 
 
 " Take a seat, Barston !" returned the baronet ; " you are most 
 welcome to the Ked Hall. The last time you were here you left 
 somewhat suddenly, I remember. Ha ! ha ! You did not know 
 that I witnessed your abrupt flight, and your doleful countenance ! 
 Forgive me, kinsman, I did not know you so well then, and I was 
 playing a game against heavy odds. There were madame, yonder. 
 Lord Morton, the dainty little Parson Harwood and yourself, all 
 sworn to thwart me. Yet I befooled you all ! Ha ! ha ! allow me 
 to offer you a glass of wine ! It is the old Seventeen Madeira." 
 
 " You knew of this, and did not warn me F said Bet, reproach 
 fully. 
 
 " I only arrived last night, Ret, and I have been seeking you all 
 day. Johnny told me you were at the Priory. I have been there. 
 Nellie is there and I had to take her for a little gallop. And then 
 I came directly here, across fields, in a straight line. And when 1 
 left Elbert, last night, it was agreed that we should come here 
 together this morning. And my errand now was to notify you. 
 Do not look so reproachfully at me \ n 
 
 " Sit down, Barston," said Sir Elbert, " you must positively 
 taste this wine. Kitty, take a glass. What ! no ? Mrs. Froome, 
 pray take my lady somewhere to lie down. Do not disturb Mrs. 
 Lacy, I beg !" 
 
 " Come .away !" said Eet, stamping her foot impatiently, and 
 drawing Barston to the door " come away !" 
 
 " Stop, Barston," continued his cousin, with courtly ease, "stop, 
 I desire to recall that ride of yours. How it rained ! Surely you 
 do not intend to encounter a similar storm. It will be here in five 
 minutes. Sit down, man, and persuade that irritable lady to con 
 trol her Harwood impatience, at least until the storm passes." 
 
 "Come away, I tell you!" exclaimed llet, vehemently. "Will 
 you subject me to this insolent treatment another minute t 
 Away !" 
 
 Swiss looked out at the scowling face of the heavens with 
 deliberation. Peace was in his soul, because she clung to him 
 and would not leave him, though ho still lingered. He quieted 
 her with a gesture and turned to his kinsman. 
 
 " Elbert," he said with grave dignity, " you wound me deeply.
 
 262 THE LAGY DIAMONDS. 
 
 If any other man would dare do what you have done, he would 
 have to render account to me. I cannot quarrel with you, because 
 you are my mother's kinsman. I must stifle my just resentment 
 for her sake, and forgive you. If this rude entrance upon your 
 rightful inheritance is excusable at all, it is only because you have 
 fallen back into your intemperate habits, and are not yourself. 
 For your own sake, cousin, I pray you apologize to this lady. She 
 is the widow of John Lacy." 
 
 " I apologize to the widow of John Lacy," replied Elbert, rising, 
 while the purple line in his forehead appeared again. ; 'His 
 memory is dear to me, and no one deplores his death as I do ! I 
 do not like this lady for her own sake, and I have just cause for 
 resentment, I think, against all of her race. But let that pass. I 
 did not intend this rude entrance. I came to say to her that my 
 rights should remain in abeyance while she chose to occupy the 
 Eed Hall, but she received me with all the infernal haughtiness 
 of those Harwoods, and exasperated me. Do you think I am dog- 
 enough to eject a lady from my house? Shame on you, Lacy 
 Barston, for taking the part of any one against your only living 
 kinsman !" 
 
 " This is a lame apology, Elbert " 
 
 "Madame," said the baronet, approaching Eet, who recoiled 
 and clung more closely to Barstou. " Madame, I pray you par 
 don my rudeness. I foresee that you will not accept my hospi 
 tality, but you will take sore revenge for all my rudeness if you 
 leave the Eed Hall in the face of this storm. If I am wanting in 
 decorous manner or in proper forms of speech, I pray you attribute 
 it rather to my rough training than to any desire to offend you. I 
 cannot profess a friendship that I do not feel, but I sincerely offer 
 you the shelter of this roof so long as you will accept it." 
 
 " Come away!" said Eet. " I thank you, sir, but other duties call 
 me away. Come away, I tell you, or I shall go mad 1"
 
 THE DROWNED EATS. 263 
 
 CHAPTER LII. 
 THE DROWNED EATS. 
 
 AS they issued from the door of the Red Hall, Barston glanced 
 anxiously at the gloomy heavens. Far down in the cast 
 there was a strip of blue sky, but all the rest of the vault was the 
 blackness of darkness. A long, ragged tongue of cloud stretched 
 down from the zenith, seeming to touch the tall tower of Lacy 
 Keep. The leaves were motionless upon the trees, and a horrible 
 calm, full of dismal portents, overspread the face of nature. The 
 swallows, which had their nests builded under the coping of the 
 tower, were sweeping on swift wings to the shelter of the spruce 
 plantation, beyond the ruined arch. It was not much past mid 
 day, yet the gray light was more like the gloaming in high lati 
 tudes, with the added obscurity of approaching storm. 
 
 "Ret," said Barston, "look around you and pause; there is no 
 mistaking these signs. Come with me to Mrs. Froome's room, and 
 wait until the tempest passes." 
 
 " Away 1" she answered ; " take me away ! No tempest can be 
 worse than the shelter of that roof !" 
 
 " Will you wait until I order the carriage " 
 
 " No carriage ! It is his !" she replied, with haughty vehemence. 
 " I can walk ! Take me away !" 
 
 Barston led Roland from the arch and leaped lightly into the 
 saddle. 
 
 " Stand, Roland !" said he, throwing the bridle upon the neck 
 of his horse. " Give me your hands Ret both of them so. Place 
 your foot on my boot. Up !" and he swung her before him on the 
 saddle bow. " Ten stone, by the three kings !" he muttered, as 
 he gathered up the rein. " Roland, my bonny bay, yon carry 
 more than Caesar and his fortunes ! Away, brave Roland !" 
 
 Roland reared his magnificent body, throwing out his fore legs 
 as if he were bearing a handful of thistledown. Then bounding 
 lightly away he passed through the arch and down the drive, as 
 if he had been projected from some enormous catapult. At the 
 same instant a sheet of flame leaped from the bosom of the ragged 
 cloud, accompanied by a crash that seemed to rend the earth 
 under Roland's flying feet. As they turned into the high road 
 Barston looked over his shoulder. They were on a bit of rising 
 ground, and the Red Hall was in full view.
 
 264 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 Torn by a hundred conflicting emotions, Lady Lacy was for the 
 nonce oblivious of conventional proprieties. Overbearing all 
 other considerations was the sharp sting of humiliation, as she 
 remembered her haughty treatment of Sir Elbert Lacy a year or 
 two before, and the undeniable fact that she had been living, ever 
 since her marriage, in his house and upon his land. When Barston 
 acknowledged Elbert's identity, all doubt concerning his legal 
 rights vanished, and she could find no answer to the mocking 
 words of the new claimant. The one impetuous purpose upon her 
 mind was to get away from Lacy Keep ; and while burning with 
 resentment against the intruder, her keen sense of right recog 
 nized the validity of his title and her consequent trespass. A 
 dozen schemes, looking to the payment of a full rental for all the 
 years she had lived at the Hall, flitted through her mind, as the 
 thought of living under obligations to Elbert Lacy, late Butler, 
 was monstrous. Then, mingled with these reflections, was the 
 blissful thought that he, her hero, Lacy Barston, had at last come 
 to claim her. Since the day when he held up his arms to her, 
 from the deck of the steamer, she had watched and waited for him, 
 and now, when those strong arms were around her, and those 
 dauntless eyes looking so longingly into hers, what marvel that 
 she yielded so promptly to his invitation. One swift glance at his 
 face was enough to tell her where her true resting place should be 
 henceforth ; and perhaps also, for that recognition of lordship, of 
 which every true woman, truly mated, is conscious. Hence her 
 prompt obedience when Barston bade her mount Roland. 
 
 " Bet," he said, " I see Mrs. Frooine at the door, beckoning with 
 frantic eagerness. Shall we return ?" 
 
 " Never ! Put me on the ground, if you wish to go. Never more 
 will I set foot on Lacy land !" 
 
 "Put you down !" said Swiss ; " go one way, and leave you to 
 go another ? Hark ! Do you hear the roar of the storm ? Are 
 you frightened ?" 
 
 She drew the hood of her cloak over her face and leaned it upon 
 his sturdy shoulder. 
 
 " It seems that I am fated to ride away from the Eed Hall in 
 the rain," said Barston. " Here it comes ! What a crash was 
 that ! Ret, we must get away from the trees." 
 
 " Anywhere, any way, only not back. I am not frightened." 
 
 " Here we are, at the edge of the Dark Wood. Ret, I parted with 
 Jack just here."
 
 THE DROWNED EATS. 265 
 
 " Did lie give you the diamonds ?" 
 
 *< What do you say F said Barston, with a start. 
 
 " Tlie diamonds ! the Lacy Diamonds !" 
 
 " I never had the diamonds, Ret. He gave me nothing." 
 
 " Oh, dear !" said Ket, plaintively. " What wretches there are 
 in the world ! Mr. Bottomry and Mr. DeVere both told me that you 
 held Sir John's securities. I have waited seven years for you to 
 bring them back to me." 
 
 " I never had securities, Bet. How could you think so meanly 
 of me F 
 
 " It has almost killed me," she answered, passionately. " I 
 knew the necklace was worth thirty or forty thousand pounds. I 
 saw him take it that morning, and when he was found it was gone. 
 He had seen nobody but you." 
 
 " Yes, he had seen one other. I will tell you hereafter, it may be. 
 You drove me away, saying you hated me." 
 
 She murmured something about fear of falling, and slipped her 
 shapely arm around his neck. 
 
 " It was a big story," she whispered. 
 
 " Sometimes, when I have been on the tossing sea, Eet, or in the 
 quiet woods, I have recalled your .words and looks, and it has 
 seemed to me that you meant to say i I almost love you, Lacy 
 Barston !'" 
 
 She clung closer to him, but said nothing. 
 
 " Because," he continued, " with my profound sense of unworthi- 
 ness, there was always mingled the conviction that you were the 
 only woman in the wide universe that I ever loved, or could love, 
 and I thought the very force of my devotion, which you know is 
 old as my life, must conquer your repugnance at last. Do I annoy 
 you?" 
 
 " No," she whispered, softly. 
 
 " And I hoped that some mistake some slander, perhaps, had 
 damaged me in your eyes, which time would reveal and remove. 
 Tell me why you thought I had your diamonds F 
 
 " I saw him take them that last day. I knew he was sorely 
 pressed for money, that he owed Mr. Bottomry and Mr. DeVere. 
 When he was found the diamonds were gone. After a year I ap 
 plied to them both, and they both said you must have them, 
 because you had paid them all Sir John's debts. All that I could 
 hear of were about fifteen thousand pounds, and the diamonds 
 had been valued at Amsterdam at a much larger sum. I have
 
 266 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 never told auy one before that they were gone, and I hoped, year 
 after year, that you would bring them back to me. My father, 
 who tells me everything, told me two years ago that I would in 
 herit from him fifty thousand pounds, and that I could have it 
 whenever I pleased to take it. Then I thought I would get back 
 the diamonds." 
 
 " There was something else, Eet." 
 
 "Yes, I thought I heard you making love to Kitty. It was in 
 the conservatory at Morton Priory. You said she must go live at 
 Oakland." 
 
 " Oh, Eet ! how could you so woefully mistake me ?" 
 
 "I found out my error after you left me! How could you get 
 your own consent to ride away in such a towering rage ? And the 
 rain ! I thought you would be drowned !" 
 
 All this time the rain was lashing the earth with a roar, but 
 these simple creatures heeded it not, or knew it not. With his 
 left arm around her, holding her close to his heart, Swiss was un 
 conscious of all the phenomena of convulsed nature. He would 
 not have noticed an earthquake. Eet, nestled so securely there, 
 only knew that she had found peace at last. If Eoland had 
 been equal to it, Eet would have enjoyed the little excursion, if it 
 had lasted the day. 
 
 Eoland said nothing, but pounding the road with his heavy 
 hoofs, galloped on elastically. Ten stone additional was nothing 
 to him. 
 
 " What did you mean by i ten stone,' Mr. Barston P she said. 
 
 " Er hem. What did you say, Eet!" replied Swiss, with mani 
 fest confusion. 
 
 "What did you mean by 'ten stone,' sir? That is what you 
 said, when you lifted me up !" 
 
 " Ten stone means one hundred and forty pounds avoirdupois," 
 replied Mr. Barston. " I was probably thinking " 
 
 " You were probably swearing at so much additional weight on 
 your poor horse ! It is a story, though ! I don't weigh nearly so 
 much. Let me down, sir, I can walk !" 
 
 " Swearing !" said Swiss, holding her more tightly. It is the 
 author's deliberate opinion that this is precisely what she expect 
 ed. " Swearing ! Let you down ! I will neA T er let you down, Eet, 
 while Eoland can keep on his legs, until you tell me you love me." 
 
 " Do you want me to tell stories P 
 
 "No."
 
 THE DROWNED RATS. 267 
 
 " That night you were singing on the terrace l Ah ! che la mortif 
 you almost broke iny heart ! And the letters you wrote to Johnny 
 here they are, all of them. They all tell the same story. They 
 all say you love me, and they have never been out of my reach 
 since they came. I have read them every day, and wept over them, 
 and wondered if you would never, never, never come for me ! My 
 hero ! my darling !" and she threw back the hood, drawing his 
 head down to her, and kissed him. 
 
 tl Love youF she continued "Ah, how little do you know how 
 I love you ! I love you so much that I am jealous of Johnny, of 
 Nellie, my baby !" 
 
 " You need not be jealous, Eet. Your place in my heart is not 
 accessible to any other. I have never lived a conscious hour since 
 we were children, when you were not uppermost in my thoughts 
 and love. My own Eet ! All that I have suffered in waiting for 
 this hour shrivels up into nothingness. I have not lived hitherto, 
 i have dreamed away the quarter of a century to no purpose. Ah ! 
 what possibilities are in my future, with you by my side F 
 
 " Why did you not tell me that you loved me, long ago !' ' 
 
 " Oh, Ret, I was so poor " 
 
 " Shame on you ! If you had but whispered to me that you 
 loved me, do you think I would have asked about your money ? 
 And now that you have money, I won't have you ! I am poor now !" 
 
 "You just told me you had fifty thousand pounds." 
 
 " Yes, but you ought to have more than that " 
 
 " I hope for more. I want one hundred and forty pounds more. 
 Oh, you dear little gossamer butterfly ! how I love you P 
 
 " Let me go, sir ! Here is the Priory ! Put me down this min 
 ute ! Oli, you poor drowned rat ! how wet you are !" 
 
 Itet walked demurely up the drive, and Swiss followed, leading 
 Roland by the bridle. Roland had made no complaints, but he 
 was laughing in his sleeve at his master and mistress, as they lin 
 gered in the downpour, to murmur delicious nothings to each 
 other. But the terrace was reached at last. 
 
 " Here are two drowned rats !" said Lord Morton. " Why, Ret ! 
 How did you get caught in this storm T Come in, child. Parson ! 
 here is Mr. Burst on, carrying a hundred weight of rain in his 
 habiliments. Take him to his room, Parson, and rub him down ! 
 Luncheon is just ready. But we will wait for the rats ! Away 
 with you !" 
 
 " My lord, Johnny, my lady !" said Swiss, as Ret slipped through
 
 268 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 the hall, and up the staircase, " let me take all your hands at once ! 
 That dear, precious, darling Eet, sneaking away yonder, has 
 promised to be my wife ! Wish me joy !" 
 
 Lady Morton kissed him. 
 
 The rector hugged him, and got his coat sleeves wet in the ope 
 ration ; also his shirt front. 
 
 Lord Morton shook his hand warmly. 
 
 "Go to your room, Swiss, my dear boy my dear son and get 
 dry clothing. Your traps are there. I sent for them while you 
 were away. Take him away, Parson, and hug him after he is dry 1 
 I give you twenty minutes. Go after the other rat, my dear !" 
 
 An hour later the joyful household, at the luncheon table, were 
 admiring the glorious sunlight that had succeeded the storm. 
 And while the laugh and jest were passing round, a messenger 
 arrived with terrible tidings. 
 
 The Lacy Keep had been stricken by lightning, and Sir Elbert 
 killed at the moment that Swiss and Eet had ridden away. The 
 Keep was in ruins, having taken fire, and the old wainscot and 
 flooring burning like tinder, were all consumed, leaving only the 
 naked and riven walls of the old tower, a landmark that still 
 adorns that beautiful landscape. 
 
 CHAPTEE LIII. 
 A CONFESSION. 
 
 THE storm through which the happy couple passed, courting 
 under difficulties, was an exceptional storm in that peaceful 
 latitude. Swiss, in reading a description of it in the Lavingtou 
 paper, pronounced it a first class West Indian hurricane. His 
 mind was so entirely occupied with the ten stone treasure he 
 carried, that he did not remember any meteorological phenomena, 
 excepting the primal flash and its accompanying roar. It was 
 this bolt that shattered the Keep, and struck down its new lord, 
 and the last of the Lacy line. Mrs. Frooine and Kitty, with 
 William's assistance, carried the body of Sir Elbert to the newer 
 portion of the Eed Hall, which escaped the conflagration that 
 destroyed the old Tower. He was buried in the ancient cemetery, 
 and his funeral was attended by all the gentry of the neighbour 
 hood. Mr. Parchment came from London, and Mr. Macdower
 
 A CONFESSION. 269 
 
 from Stirling, all under Barston's management, to identify the 
 baronet and his widow, and to comply with the legal requirements 
 to fix the succession. It is worthy of note that Mr. Macdower 
 was somewhat doubtful as to Kitty's identity, in her black attire, 
 until Swiss borrowed the diamond brooch, which she fastened on 
 her breast. Then the Scot swore to her, point blank. This shows 
 the value of circumstantial evidence. 
 
 The lands passed to Barston now in spite of his opposition. His 
 first act was to convey them to Ellen Lacy, infant, to her and her 
 heirs forever. As he had some new schemes iu view, he burnt the 
 will he had made at her birth, in which he had made her his sole 
 heiress. Ret's zeal to pay him the fifteen thousand pounds, over 
 which they had formerly quarrelled, had gotten drowned out 
 between the Red Hall and the Priory, on the first day of August. 
 
 On the sixth day of the same month these two happened to 
 meet in the conservatory at Morton Priory. The sashes were all 
 opened and the beautiful lawn seemed to have pushed its way up 
 to the house, coming in under the glazed roof of the conservatory, 
 and mingling the odours of the out-door flowers with those of the 
 tenderer plants within. Ret and Mr. Barston were seated in a 
 secluded corner of the conservatory, where nobody would be likely 
 to disturb them. There is generally an exception to all established 
 rules, and Nellie was the exception this time. 
 
 " I want to go ride with you on Roland !" she began, as she 
 crawled upon Mr. Barston's knee. 
 
 " Roland has lost a shoe, baby. I have sent him to Lavington 
 to get a new one." 
 
 " Mamma says," said Nellie, while a tear rolled out of each 
 round eye, " that I mustn't call you ' papa ' any more !" 
 
 " Does she ! Well, wait nine more days, and then mamma will 
 teach you to call me papa again 1 Will you wait, Nellie f 
 
 " Yes !" said Nellie, clapping her hands. She slid down from 
 his knee, and seeing a butterfly on the lawn, bolted out in full 
 chase. Ret looked at his placid face with blank astonishment. 
 
 " What do you mean by telling the child such absurd stories t 
 It would be horridly indecorous. I shall not allow her to do any 
 thing of the kind !" 
 
 " When I call you wife, Ret," said Swiss, " you can surely allow 
 Nellie to call me papa !" 
 
 " Yes," she answered, blushing, "but not before." 
 
 " Certainly not !" said Mr. Barston, taking her hand and kiss-
 
 270 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 ing it. " I meant Nellie to understand that the happy time would 
 come nine days hence, when Johnny and Clare " 
 
 " Are you stark, raving, distracted, crazy F 
 
 " Very nearly, Eet ! The thought of waiting nine more days 
 almost drives me mad ! Oh, how long have I waited ! And now 
 I must pass nine more miserable days, forsooth, just because 
 Johnny was such a booby as to appoint the fifteenth of August !" 
 and he got her hand again, which she had snatched away, and 
 kissed it once more. 
 
 " I am sure I don't know what you mean, Mr. Barston," said Eet, 
 with great dignity, " you cannot have lost every grain of sense ; 
 yet the idea of proposing to a lady on the first of the month, and 
 expecting her to marry you two weeks after, hardly admits of dis 
 cussion." 
 
 11 Two weeks ! Is it thus you measure time, Eet ? I asked you 
 formerly, two nay, three years ago ! When do you think it will 
 be proper to marry ?" 
 
 " I don't know 1 in two or three years. Let go my hand, sir F 
 
 " Don't you love me enough yet I Alas ! I had set my heart on 
 this, and I thought you would remember how long I have waited 
 for you ! Ah, Eet 1" he continued, plaintively, " I cannot press 
 this suit, because I feel unworthy of you " 
 
 " I do wish you would try to talk reasonably !" said Eet. " Don't 
 you understand that nobody in the world knows that you you 
 said all that to me, three years ago ! I never told Mother or 
 Father!" 
 
 " No, my darling," said Swiss, innocently. " I thought you had 
 not, so I told them last night ; also, Johnny and Clare." 
 
 " Eeally !" said she, biting her lips, " may I inquire what they 
 said?" 
 
 " Ah, Eet !" said the hypocrite " it will avail nothing to tell 
 you. If you have only thought of me as your possible husband 
 for six days, I could not ask you to marry me on the fifteenth, no 
 matter what they think. By the three kings of Cologne ! I'd die 
 a thousand deaths before I would ask so monstrous " 
 
 " If you will please stop swearing, sir," said the lady, with crisp 
 politeness, " and tell me what Mother said I don't care about the 
 others ! Johnny and Clare are half demented, and poor Father is 
 just led about by the nose by these two. What did Mother say ?" 
 
 " Oh, Eet," said the sly rascal, with a rueful face, " please don't 
 ask me and please don't say anything to any of them about it.
 
 A CONFESSION. 271 
 
 I am mortified enough as it is ! You will marry me in five or six 
 years. Don't humiliate your future husband unnecessarily." 
 
 Ret felt a little like crying. But she thought she would rather 
 scratch Swiss, just over his big eyes, looking so sadly into hers. 
 
 " If you can't tell me what Mother said, I can't tell what to say. 
 You seem determined to distress me !" 
 
 " My beloved ! I will tell you. They all said, with one voice, 
 that there should be a double wedding on the fifteenth. Your 
 darling Mother oh, how I love her, Ret ! was the first to say so." 
 
 " Why, you lunatic !" said Ret, starting to her feet. " It is wholly 
 impossible. I I have no things there ! and all the milliners 
 and mantuamakers in Devon could not get me ready in this inde 
 cent haste !" 
 
 " Please sit down again 1" said Swiss, plaintively ; " I have a 
 confession to make 1 I know it will ruin me forever iu your eyes 
 but I cannot bear to deceive you any longer. Sit down, Ret ! I 
 will make a clean breast of it and then I think I will go to sea 
 again !" 
 
 Ret sat down, with amazement in her face. Swiss knelt on a 
 flower stand by her side, and propping his head with his hand, 
 half concealing his eyes, began his story. There was a melancholy 
 intonation in his voice, that awakened her sympathy. 
 
 " Ret," he began, with sorrowful accents, " you know that I am 
 entirely ignorant of all proprieties in this business ! You are the 
 only woman that I ever spoke to of love. I have never thought 
 of any other. And when I thought you might learn to love me, I 
 did not dream of any difficulties in the way. I will ask her again, I 
 said to myself, and if she says yes, I will be married with Johnny ! 
 So, not having an opportunity to consult you I wrote to Clare 
 at the Hotel de Lisle and besought her to buy all the things for 
 you that she was buying for herself ! I begged her to conceal her 
 movements from you as I had not yet had that blessed ride in 
 the rain ! my second ride in the rain, Ret ! Oh, how hard hearted 
 you are I "Well ! I sent Clare a cheque for a thousand pounds, 
 as I did not know how much things cost. She has given me no 
 change. She has about forty trunks and boxes up stairs, belong 
 ing to you. Stop one moment, Ret ! Hear me out, I pray ! She 
 has been dying to get a peep at the things ever since they came, 
 but has loyally refrained. She said you had milliners and all that 
 sort of thing in Paris, and she knew your peculiar tastes and so 
 she made the purchases and the things are in this house.
 
 272 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 " And now, Bet, please say you forgive me ! You can tell Lady 
 Morton that certain insurmountable obstacles are in the way at 
 present and I I have never been to Greenland. I will go to 
 Greenland, and wait there, until your time arrives to make me 
 happy ! 
 
 " As for living on this island, within reach of you, within sound 
 of your voice, and yet know that I cannot call you my wife and 
 call that darling baby my daughter by the three kings ! I'll 
 never stand it ! Never ! Never !" 
 
 As he turned away from her she rose from her seat and march 
 ed to the door. 
 
 " Please to sit down and wait for me a few minutes, sir. I will 
 return immediately." 
 
 When she whisked her dress through the glass door, Mr. Swiss 
 composedly took out his cigar case and struck a Vesuvius. 
 
 "Puff! puff!" he said. "Clare is about to catch it! I am 
 thankful that I am through my part, and still live. I wonder why 
 that rascally tailor has not sent my things down I" 
 
 OHAPTEE LIV. 
 ORNITHOLOGICAL. 
 
 author of this volume once had the pleasure of going into 
 ~ a railway station behind a locomotive. It had u jumped 
 the track," as he was informed afterwards, and did not go into 
 the station very quietly. It is probable that Bet's entrance into 
 Clare's chamber was in very similar fashion. The gentlemen who 
 manage experiments in gunnery, at Shoeburyness, can calculate 
 to a nicety how hard a knock can be given by a hundred pounder, 
 projected by a given weight of powder. If these scientists were 
 within reach they might estimate the force with which a hundred 
 and forty pounds of sweetness, tortured by a villain like Swiss 
 into a state of " demnition sweetness," would go through that 
 chamber door. 
 
 Miss Tamworth was expecting her. She rose at her entrance 
 and ran to meet her, kissing her tenderly. Bet feebly repulsed 
 her.
 
 ORNITHOLOGICAL. 273 
 
 " Clare !" slie said, viciously, " this is a nice business I Could 
 I believe that you you would have treated me so shamefully F 
 " What do you mean, Eet f" 
 
 " Oh, you are very innocent ! That crazy man down stairs has 
 told me all about it! I declare I feel so hurt ! Oh, Clare, it was 
 base !" 
 
 Clare began to whimper. 
 
 " There ! there !" said Eet, kissing her ; " please don't cry. I 
 suppose it was not all your fault ! Ah 1" she said, with pro 
 phetic wrath, as she clenched her little hand, " won't I dress him 
 for this ! Just wait, my gentleman ! Where are the things, 
 Clare V ' 
 
 " I don't k-n-o-w what you m-m-mean !" whimpered Clare. 
 " Don't you, dear ? The lunatic said you had forty boxes and 
 trunks belonging to me bought in Paris under my own nose P 
 " Oh ! yes, they are all locked up in the Blue Eoom. Here is 
 the key. May I go with you ?" she said, timidly. 
 
 " Of course. I shall want you to tell me what purposes the 
 things are to serve. Come along, pray." 
 
 " My love," said Clare, as she unlocked the boxes, " almost all 
 of these are duplicates of my own purchases. Some of the dresses 
 I made you select you know, my darling, that I could not help 
 it. If you don't want them, they will all fit me, with very little 
 alteration. But I really thought, until last night, that there was 
 an understanding between you and the lunatic. I thought there 
 had been a little quarrel and that you had made it up. Oh, Eet ! 
 that poult de sole is lovely, lovely, lovely ! Did you ever see more 
 exquisite taste I Madame Lacroix is faultless. Please slip this 
 skirt on. Oh, Eet, I hope you won't like it ! Heigho ! I am so 
 sorry that I was misled I did not know the man was crazy. My 
 darling child ! you shall never marry a crazy man 1 This is the 
 poplin, Eet. That shade is entirely new, and it is lovely ! 
 
 " Oh, Eet, I found out something I Do you remember that story 
 of Mr. Bars ton and the French officer at Sebastopol ? Well, his 
 widow is Madame Dutilh, the milliner in the Passage de 1'Orme ! 
 She knows Mr. Barston I He bought Nellie's hat there I And he 
 ordered a bonnet and left her three hundred francs to pay for it ! 
 And it is here ! Eet, my maid carried that dreadful box in her 
 hand all the way from Paris. She kept hold of it when crossing 
 that horrid channel, even when she thought she was dying I I 
 have never seen it ! See ! it is sealed up, where the cords cross. 
 
 18
 
 274 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 Shall we open it? Oh, that's a dear where are ray scissors? 
 here snip, snip. It is all wrapped in tissue paper. Ah, Eet !" 
 
 The two lovely ladies fell on their knees, one on each side of the 
 bonnet box. It was a great deal worse than the golden calf busi 
 ness, as this idol was a flimsy thing, made up of a minute frag 
 ment of straw, and other fragments of lace and ribbons. They 
 gazed, enraptured. At length, Clare took it up gingerly, and 
 placed it on Eet's head, with a little shriek of joy. Eet allowed 
 herself to be led to the mirror, where she half dislocated her 
 superb neck, trying to look at the back of her head. They stood 
 near the window, and Mr. Barston, lolling on the bench in the 
 conservatory, overheard their comments. 
 
 " Did you ever see such a bonnet, Eet P 
 
 " Never ! never! Oh, Clare, it is a duck." 
 
 They were interrupted by the entrance of Lady Morton. 
 
 "Mother!" said Eet, "he wants me to marry him on the 
 fifteenth!" 
 
 " He P 
 
 " Yes, ma'am !" said Clare ; " she means that wretched in 
 ebriate " 
 
 " Whom do you mean, Miss Tarn worth P said Eet. 
 
 " I mean your lunatic, of course. My lady, lie ordered this 
 bonnet ; just please look at it !" 
 
 " What superb lace, Eet !" said her Mother ; " it is beautiful, 
 indeed. Well, my dear, what did you tell him ?" 
 
 " I did not tell him anything. If you say I must " 
 
 " I think you must, Eet. I have loved the poor motherless boy 
 ever since I first saw him. You are a happy woman, daughter." 
 
 " Where is Father P said Eet, placing the dainty bonnet in its 
 box. 
 
 " In the library;" and with one lingering look at the duck, Eet 
 departed. 
 
 Lord Morton was poring over a parliamentary report. Eet 
 took her seat on his knee, and put her arms round his neck and 
 hid her face on his shoulder. 
 
 " He wants me to be married on the fifteenth, sir," she whis 
 pered. 
 
 " Of course, Eet. Why not P 
 
 " It seems so dreadfully sudden, sir." 
 
 " Sudden ! Pooh ! The poor fellow has been courting you for 
 three years ! Do you love him, Eet P
 
 ORNITHOLOGICAL. 275 
 
 " Yes, sir, a little." 
 
 " Well, I love him very much as I do my other boys. When 
 you kiiow him better you will love him more, Eet." 
 
 " Have you any money, sir F said Eet, tossing her head. 
 
 " Money ! Certainly ! How much do you want F 
 
 " A thousand pounds, sir, please." 
 
 " Hum, that is a moderate demand, certainly. I do not 
 usually carry such sums in my pocket. I shall have to write a 
 cheque." 
 
 " That will do, sir. Thank you, sir." 
 
 Mr. Swiss came forward as she reappeared. He had resumed 
 his melancholy air of resignation, and something in his attitude 
 recalled Lady Morton's expression, " the poor motherless boy." 
 He was a tolerably well grown orphan, too. 
 
 " Since you left me, Eet," he began, " I have been thinking 
 what a wretch I was to order those things. It all comes of a habit 
 of mine. When I have a purpose in view I always try to provide 
 the minutest details. I reasoned in this wise : if she consents to 
 marry me, she will require the same sort of preparation things, 
 in fact, that Clare is purchasing. I cannot ask her about the 
 things until I ask her to take me. I cannot ask her to take me 
 until I see her. If I don't get the things now, it will be too late 
 when they come from Paris 
 
 "There! there!" said Eet, "you need not make any more ex 
 planations. How did you become acquainted with Madame 
 Dutilh F 
 
 " What ! you mean the milliner ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir, I mean the milliner." 
 
 " I found her in the Passage de 1'Orme, soon after her husband, 
 the captain, died. He was wounded in the Crimea." 
 
 " Yes, sir, I understand," said Eet. 
 
 " And I felt a great interest in her. He was a gallant fellow, 
 Eet, for a Frenchman." 
 
 " And you naturally tried to comfort his widow F 
 
 " What do you mean, Eet ? She is a yellow, shrivelled little 
 Frenchwoman, and takes snuff!" 
 
 "Indeed!" 
 
 " If you had not been so deeply offended, Eet, I meant to talk 
 to you about the trip to the lli.uhlamls. I have been picturing to 
 myself the most delightful honeymoon in the midst of that grand 
 scenery. I thought you would climb Ben Nevis with me, 
 and "
 
 276 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 "I thought you had concluded to try Greenland," said Ret, 
 slyly. 
 
 "Not unless you drive me there. Ah, Ret! why are you so 
 obdurate ? If you will let me have my way this time, you will 
 thenceforward own the most abject slave " 
 
 " I don't want any abject slaves, sir P 
 
 " Well, the most loyal subject, then, for you are my queen, Ret. 
 You don't look quite so angry now. If you will only tell me that 
 you forgive me about the things, I will not transgress again." 
 
 " I suppose not," answered Ret j " it is rather expensive. Here, 
 sir ! allow me to return the thousand pounds, with my thanks. 
 You need not promise not to repeat the offence. It is not at all 
 probable that you will offer your wife such a sum to spend in 
 Paris !" 
 
 " Shall I go to Greenland, Ret ?" said Swiss, as he put the 
 cheque in his pocket-book. " This will pay all expenses at least. 
 I may as well tell you that Lord Morton gave me a similar cheque 
 last night, in settlement of my outlays " 
 
 " Give me back that money !" said Ret. " There ! let me go, 
 sir, or I'll scream. Greenland! Ah, would you dare leave me 
 again?" and she secreted and dropped a dozen tears in three 
 seconds, which Swiss kissed away in the same space of time. 
 
 " May I ask you one question, my precious Ret T 
 
 Yes." 
 
 " Was the bonnet a regular duck, my love ?" 
 
 She extricated herself from his aims, and walked with stately 
 dignity to the glass door. Pausing at the threshold, she turned 
 upon him a withering look, while he choked and coughed, trying 
 to restrain his mirth. 
 
 " Yes, sir 1" she said, severely. " It is a duck. And you will 
 permit me to add, that you are a goose I" 
 
 CHAPTER L.V. 
 
 ' THE LORDS OF CREATION. 
 
 Ewas late in October, and summer departed with great reluc- 
 iance. All the country around Morton Priory was sleeping in 
 beauty. Lord and Lady Morton, with their two sons, had gone to 
 Essex, and were expected to return that afternoon to lovely Devon.
 
 THE LORDS OF CREATION. 277 
 
 In the famous conservatory two American rocking chairs, made of 
 split hickory, and exceedingly comfortable, were occupied by two 
 happy bridegrooms, who had left their partners at the luncheon 
 table. Were they smoking ? Of course. 
 
 " These are the Colorados, Swiss," said the rector. " If any of 
 your keys will fit Father's cigar case, there are some Oscuros there, 
 I know I" 
 
 " Do you suppose I would commit petty larceny, you old burglar?" 
 replied Mr. Barston. 
 
 "No indeed ; we could put some of these light ones back ; Father 
 prefers them. It would not be robbery only an exchange." 
 
 " Where did you get them, Parson ?" 
 
 " In Father's dressing room." 
 
 "If mine wasn't lighted I would reject it with indignation, 
 Johnny ! Stealing is a mean vice at any time. But stealing from 
 that great and good man, Lord Morton, is positively infamous !" 
 
 " Pooh I He left them there for us, of course. Isn't this jolly, 
 Swiss F 
 
 " Paradisaical, Johnny. How one's views of life are enlarged 
 by matrimony 1 Do you know, Parson, that you and I have 
 wasted all our former lives ? We are now beginning our careers. 
 You will preach a thousand times better " 
 
 " Haven't written a sermon for nearly three months !" said the 
 rector, dolefully. " I don't know where to begin. I haven't read 
 a word in a book, and hardly looked at a newspaper." 
 
 " Books ! you don't need books. You have the sweetest wife in 
 the world, excepting one, and you can learn more in one hour's 
 conversation with her than you could learn from forty books. And 
 if she don't know enough, Eet can instruct her. She knows every 
 thing !" 
 
 " That is comical !" quoth the rector ; " what little poor Eet knows 
 she has learned from Clare ! Swiss, she is the most superior 
 woman in England I" 
 
 " It will avail nothing, Johnny, to discuss their relative merits. 
 Since I have been married, I have begun to understand what is 
 meant by the lordship of man over the intelligent creation. His 
 dominion over the brutes is a small matter. But when he has a 
 wife who spends her lifetime in studying his merest whims who 
 anticipates his wishes almost before they are shaped in his own 
 mind, by her keen perception, and who yields her preferences with 
 such charming grace and sweetness it is then, and then only, 
 that man appreciates his lordship ! n
 
 278 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 " "Exactly !" replied the rector " only sometimes one does not 
 know precisely what one wants. Then the dear angel enlightens 
 him, and he has his own way, without knowing it." 
 
 " Pish ! You have not risen to the grandeur of my thought. 
 Women have a faculty by which they perceive our hidden pur 
 poses, while our slower logic is plodding to a conclusion." 
 
 " Yes," responded Mr. Harwood ; " Do you remember our as 
 cent of Ben Lomond ?" 
 
 "No," spluttered Swiss "we did not ascend that inaccessible 
 height. It was a foolish project " 
 
 " Yes. That was what Eet said," replied the Parson dryly. " I 
 suppose her quick perception had enabled her to discover that it 
 would wear out her boots ! Clare and I went to the top of that 
 Ben !" 
 
 "And came back again as cross as two amiable grimalkins ! 
 Eet and I staid below in the heather, discoursing like sensible 
 people." 
 
 " You made sad havoc with the dinner, though ; I only got a 
 small taste of the grouse pie." 
 
 " What a regular glutton you must be, Parson," said Swiss 
 " you have fallen into bad habits. Eating and smoking are not 
 the chief end of your existence ! Who is there f ' 
 
 "I want you, please !" answered a sweet voice from the lawn. 
 
 " Do you want me, madame f said Swiss, rising. 
 
 "No, I don't want 'me, madame;' I want the Eeverend Mr. 
 Harwood," replied Clare. " I can't come in there among all that 
 horrid smoke ! It would ruin my shawl ! The odour would never 
 come out. Never !" 
 
 "My dear Parson," whispered Swiss, "now is your opportunity. 
 It is highly unreasonable to call you away from your smoke. 
 Your digestive organs require " 
 
 "What are you whispering about?" inquired Mrs. Harwood. 
 '" Are you coming?" 
 
 " In a moment, my dear !" replied the rector. " I cannot come 
 with my cigar, you know. Will you wait for me ?" 
 
 " Not a second !" 
 
 The rector glanced irresolutely at Swiss. 
 
 " Go !" said that worthy ; " go ! you hen-pecked old wretch ! 
 You deserve your bondage, because you have not had pluck 
 enough to assert your lordship from the first. Go along with you!" 
 
 " It is only a Colorado !" quoth the rector, throwing his weed 
 away and stalking majestically out.
 
 THE LORDS OF CREATION. 279 
 
 Mr. Barston leaned back in his chair, and laughed until the 
 tears ran down upon his beard. 
 
 " That dear Clare is a stunner !" he said, watching the couple as 
 they walked away. "*But she suits Johnny admirably. Evidently 
 he does not appreciate the kingship, which he relinquishes so 
 lightly. That was a famous dodge of his, to express his contempt 
 for ' Colorados.' To such base subterfuges must the man come 
 who does not reign in his own household. Poor old Johnny ! His 
 cigar was rather more than half smoked though. It will be jolly 
 to tell him that I had two. I think I will light another." 
 
 " I don't think you will," said another melodious voice, as a 
 plump arm was passed around his neck, and his cigar removed by 
 dainty taper fingers. " This makes four to-day," continued Eet, 
 " and you will soon require a dozen to satisfy you. Your system 
 is full of nicotine, and you will have softening of the brain pre 
 sently. The specific effect of that poison is to retard the circula 
 tion. Congestion then paralysis " 
 
 " Where in the world did you pick up all that lore, my darling f j 
 said Mr. Barston, submissively. 
 
 " No matter where," replied madame ; " it is sound doctrine, 
 however. Faugh ! the conservatory smells like a German beer 
 garden ! Come out 1" 
 
 Swiss followed, with a hang-dog expression of countenance 
 totally at variance with his discourse on lordship. 
 
 " My dear," said Ket, taking his arm, and following the grinning 
 rector and his wife 5 "don't you think a man of your excellent 
 sense should put some restraint upon so harmful a habit ? I would 
 never dream of interference, except for your own sake, my love. 
 But when I think of you falling over in a fit of apoplexy, I am 
 ready to scream " 
 
 " Don't scream, you precious angel !" said Swiss. " I am sure 
 that would throw me into a fit, without the aid of nicotine. I have 
 such unlimited confidence in your judgment, my love, that I will 
 promise to confine my fumigations within whatever limits you 
 direct." 
 
 Eet squeezed his arm. 
 
 " Do you think I would put limits upon you ? Do you think I 
 would measure my feeble intellect with your clear, sound judg 
 ment ! Never ! never ! All that I ask of you is to consider the 
 matter, and I will freely promise to speak of it no more. Only re 
 member how desolate your poor wife would bo if you were to kill 
 yourself with that dread ful nicotine 1"
 
 280 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 " Well, Bet," quoth Mr. Barston, with ail air of superb royalty, 
 " I will investigate the whole subject thoroughly. And, in the 
 meantime, I will only smoke one more to-day; just one, after 
 dinner." 
 
 They speedily overtook the rector and Clare. 
 
 "Where is your cigar, Swiss f said Mr. Harwood. t , 
 
 " Smoked out, Parson." 
 
 " Won't you have another ?" 
 
 " Not now, thank you. The truth is, Johnny, I am reluctant to 
 smoke stolen cigars at second hand. I don't mind stealing yours, 
 when I know you got them honestly." 
 
 "Very lame, Swiss!" said the rector. "Now listen, you old 
 humbug ! These charming ladies were hidden behind the lemon 
 trees while you were discoursing so eloquently about lordship. 
 They silently retired and concocted their little plot. My demure 
 little wife called me out, and I obeyed. Your angelic wife collared 
 you and brought you out. The next time you wish to enlarge 
 upon the domination of the husband, you had better get in the 
 open fields, or like that other old humbug, Demosthenes, upon the 
 margin of the sea ! Laugh at him, girls !" 
 
 " My dear Parson," said Swiss, his voice falling into the sweet 
 tones that indicated earnest sincerity, " my experience has been 
 large enough to teach me this much: It is so delicious to dis 
 crown one's self, and to lay one's diadem at the feet of one's wife, 
 that domination culminates in the very act of yielding the 
 sceptre. None but a king can relinquish dominion. They who 
 resist that gentle sway, and tear away those, silken chains, are not 
 husbands they are bluebeards ; and the clearest records of the 
 world's long history teaches the same lesson. No race has ever 
 been dominant where women did not reign. The Boinan, lord of 
 the earth, growing corrupt in success, reversed this beneficent 
 law of the race, and was exterminated by the rude Gothic tribes, 
 whose distinguishing characteristic was deference to the gentle sex. 
 And now that the domination has passed into Anglo-Saxon 
 humanity, let us be grateful that deference to the woman, the 
 queen of love and beauty, still distinguishes that race from all 
 others on the surface of the planet. The reign of the distaff is the 
 hope of the world !"
 
 L'ENVOL 281 
 
 OHAPTEE LYI. 
 
 L'ENVOI. 
 
 threads dropped here and there in the foregoing 
 history remain to be gathered up. The author intended the 
 concluding words of the previous chapter to be the concluding 
 words of the story, but some critics who have patiently read thus 
 far, profess great interest in the minor characters and demand a 
 more minute account of their sayings and doings. They also com 
 plain of vagueness in portions of the story, where it was supposed 
 the imagination of the reader would supply deficiencies, and fill 
 up all lapses. Those of the aforesaid critics that object to weird 
 and inexplicable touches here and there, now demand a matter of 
 fact solution of those portions of the Red Hall legend that refer 
 to the unexpected appearance of the Countess DeLys, at the crisis 
 of Sir Ranald's history; and also an explanation of a prophecy 
 spoken by a lady who was supposed to be comfortably defunct at 
 the date of its utterance. 
 
 The ruins of Lacy Keep still stand, the walls now overgrown 
 with ivy. On that part of the inner wall, where Sir Ranald's room 
 was supposed to be, there is a fragment of a stone stairway, built 
 in the thickness of the wall, connecting this room with the cham 
 ber above. No doubt this communication was hidden by wains 
 coting, which had been destroyed by the lightning-kindled con 
 flagration, when Sir Elbert died. And sight-seers who visit the 
 locality, and listen to Mrs. Froome's miraculous stories, point to this 
 crumbling ruin, and assert, with great complacency, that the 
 Countess had traversed this hidden passage, and after filling her 
 auditors with terror at her dismal rhyme, had returned to her 
 chamber, and died outright. The old dame rejects the hypothesis 
 with high scorn, and holds to her original theory, as hinted in the 
 body of this narrative. The modern portion of the Red Hall is 
 uninjured, and occupied by Kitty Lady Lacy whose life is spent 
 in the practice of unobtrusive charities, that perpetually contra 
 dict her cold, impassive exterior. The rare occasions when this 
 coldness gives place to tokens of pleasure, are those in which Mr. 
 Barston and Nellie pay brief visits to the Red Hall. Mrs. Bars- 
 ton has never revisited the place, since the day when the stately 
 Keep was transformed into a ruin.
 
 282 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 John Hawder is steward of Mr. Barston's estate. Sometimes lie 
 finds willing listeners, to whom he recounts certain portions of his 
 American adventures, in which Mr. Barston figures once and again. 
 
 Tommy Dawson cultivates the soil at Eipple Farm. All his 
 wounds are healed, except the portentous gash in his face, which 
 his wife daily fills with dumplings. He still talks of his version 
 of the descent of man, comprised in a short chapter that only tells 
 of his rapid journey from the cliff to the beach below. The 
 favourite item in this account is the " sawing of a 'ole in his 'ead" 
 by Dr. Cardon; and Tommy describes his emotions under the 
 " hoperation " with grisly minuteness, which is the more remark 
 able as he was in a comatose state when the sawing was done. 
 Mrs. Dawson, the dowager, is the ultimate authority at Ripple, 
 and Jenny is the most dutiful of daughters, and a prime favourite 
 with the old dame, whose chief solace (after curd-making) is to 
 coddle the later generation of Dawsons, with flaxen heads, and 
 mouths constructed with due reference to dumplings. Mr. and 
 Mrs. Barston take frequent equestrian trips to Ripple, accom 
 panied by Nellie, who is the sole owner of a Mexican pony, that is 
 a natural pacer and docile as little Laura's lamb. 
 
 The Diamonds. Fo one knows the fate of the Lacy Diamonds 
 but Swiss and his wife. Both shrunk from telling the story, and if 
 it were not that no secrets are withheld from each other, both 
 would have refrained from the subject, even between themselves. 
 On the day of their marriage, Mr. Barston presented his bride 
 with the box he had picked up oh the deck of the steamer. She 
 opened it, and discovered a necklace of sparkling gems. 
 
 "My diamonds!'' she exclaimed. 
 
 Swiss said nothing. 
 
 She took out the jewels, held them up to the light, kissed them, 
 and dropped a joyful tear or two, and clasped them round her 
 neck. Then she took them off and examined them narrowly. 
 
 " Where did you get them f she said. 
 
 " Do you recognize them, Ret T 
 
 " Yes. They are not the same diamonds that I lost." 
 
 " Will any one else detect the difference f ' said Swiss. 
 
 " I think not. The necklace is a little tighter on my neck and 
 the gold is brighter. They are almost exactly like the others. 
 Tell me about them." 
 
 "I persuaded Clare to steal your brooch, and your Mother de 
 scribed the original necklace to me. A London jeweler did the 
 rest."
 
 L'ENVOL 283 
 
 " And you Lave spent- 
 
 " Nothing. When you drove me away, three years ago, I went 
 to Charleston. Before I left I bought a blockade runner and her 
 cargo of cotton. She escaped, and reached Liverpool in safety. 
 A week before Nellie was stolen away from you, I sold vessel and 
 cargo. The necklace represents the difference between my outlay 
 and the proceeds. The former owner was a young Englishman, 
 who had invested all his fortune in this venture. The blockade was 
 rigid, and the escape of the ship seemed impossible. He applied 
 to me for advice, bringing his young wife with him. Oh, Eet, she 
 reminded me of you ! So sweet, so gentle, so good ! They were 
 British subjects, and could get through the lines, if they had the 
 money that was locked up in the " Nellie " and her cargo. My 
 advice was to sell the ship to me, to take what money I had to 
 spare, and a cheque on my bankers in London for the rest. While 
 I was irresolutely considering the matter, he happened to mention 
 the name of his vessel, the " Nellie," and I was then compelled to 
 buy her. On the next night there was an easterly storm, and I 
 sent the ship out in the teeth of the gale. The blockading 
 squadron was obliged to stand out to sea, and the " Nellie," cross 
 ing the bar, ran down the coast and escaped. It was my first and 
 last commercial exploit, and I dedicated the proceeds to you. 
 
 " My darling ! if you and I can thus bury the story of the real 
 Diamonds, as deeply as they were buried, 'full forty fathoms 
 down ' under the sea, I know of nothing except the joy of calling 
 you my wife that could so much comfort me. Shall it be so ?" 
 
 The answer was audible, but inarticulate. 
 
 " Do you know, Ket," said Swiss, blushing like a girl, " that I 
 cannot help rejoicing at the loss of those horrible diamonds ! My 
 Mother has told me the story of the Eed Lacy a hundred times, 
 and I have always thought of the jewels as the messengers of 
 Satan ! I had never seen them, until that night, when Elbert cast 
 them into the sea, and I knew instinctively that they were the 
 same accursed baubles that had been bloodstained a dozen times. 
 My Mother said the necklace alone belonged to the Lacys. The 
 earrings and brooch were added by Mrs. Lacy Harwood two or 
 three generations ago. And now, my beloved, you have the full 
 set, without the curse for the curse is under the ocean. There 
 were some lines that my Mother used to repeat, but they have 
 escaped me " 
 
 lie was interrupted by Eet, who took the jewel case, and
 
 284 THE LACY DIAMONDS. 
 
 removed the false bottom. A small piece of parchment fell out. 
 It was yellow -with age, and when Barston unfolded it, the antique 
 characters traced on it were almost invisible. With some difficulty 
 he read as follows : 
 
 "fclje Cotg tljat Ijoltetl) tl;e Heb j^all anb fee 
 51 score anb a Ijalf scow Ije it core sjjall see, 
 'Sill tljc jewel from hin-bloob be wasljeb in tlje sea, 
 
 3nb tempest anb flame 
 
 mtte tlje last of ttye name 
 UJttl) tlje Ijall of Ijts fathers, tljts toeirb shall tljeji bree!" 
 
 They sat in silence a few minutes. 
 
 " Eet !" said Barston, with a puzzled air, " what do you think 
 of these lines P 
 
 " I don't think much of them," she answered indifferently. 
 
 "But Eet ! these lines were written hundreds of years ago." 
 
 I don't believe it." 
 
 " They were certainly written three or four years ago !" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Well 1 their accurate fulfilment is overwhelming to me !" 
 
 "The coincidences are a little remarkable," she answered. 
 " Mrs. Froome told me the old story before I was married. It 
 made a deep impression upon me, probably because of Mrs. 
 Froome's dramatic manner. I forgot the lines she repeated, but 
 retained the idea, and candour compels me to confess that I wrote 
 the doggerel you have just read." 
 
 " But the old parchment ! the faded ink !" 
 
 " Oh, that was nothing in comparison with a hundred tricks of 
 yours, you old deceiver ! I got some parchment from Father, 
 smoked it, diluted some ink, and made the rhyme. I spent half a 
 day over it !" 
 
 " The next generation," said Swiss, " will swear that those lines 
 were written after the events. It is in this way that fellows who 
 don't believe in ghosts or legends get rid of testimony ! But, my 
 dear," he continued, with tremulous anxiety, " do you intend to 
 grind out any more poetry ? I know a poetess in London who 
 puts things in the magazines. She has a bald place on the top of 
 her head, and wears green spectacles, and looks like the demented 
 old idiot she is !" 
 
 " No more poetry, Mr. Barston. My first and last effort is this 
 short requiem over 
 
 "THE LACY DIAMONDS."
 
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