mm 
 
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 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 SANTA BARBARA 
 
 COLLEGE OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 MR. AND MRS.R.W.VAUGHAN 

 
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 NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS 
 
 I Author's Edition]
 
 New Arabian Nights 
 
 ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON 
 
 NEW YORK 
 CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 
 
 1895 
 
 \_All rights rcscrz>ed~\
 
 UNIVERSITY OP CALIFORNIA 
 SANTA BARJARA COLLEGE LIBRAR1 
 
 TO 
 
 ROBERT ALAN MOWBRAY STEVENSON 
 
 IN GRATEFUL REMEMBRANCE OF THEIR YOUTH 
 AND THEIR ALREADY OLD AFFECTION
 
 NOTE. 
 
 I must prefix a word of thanks to the gentleman who 
 condescended to borrow the gist of one of my stories, 
 and even to honor it with the addition of his signature. 
 This mark of appreciation emboldened me to make the 
 present collection. 
 
 R. L. S.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 THE SUICIDE CLUB. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Story of the Young Man with the Cream Tarts . 3 
 Story of the Physician and the Saratoga Trunk . 36 
 The Adventure of the Hansom Cabs . . . .65 
 
 THE RAJAHS DIAMOND. 
 
 Story of the Bandbox 89 
 
 Story of the Young Man in Holy Orders . . . 116 
 Story of the House with the Green Blinds . . . 133 
 The Adventure of Prince Florizel and a Detective . 166 
 
 THE PA VILION ON THE LINKS. 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 I. Tells How I Camped in Graden Sea-wood and 
 
 BEHELD A LIGHT IN THE PAVILION. . . . 177 
 
 II. Tells of the Nocturnal Landing from the 
 
 Yacht 185 
 
 III. Tells how 1 became acquainted with my Wife . 192 
 
 IV. Tells in what ,. startling manner I learned 
 
 THAI WAS NOT ALONE IN GRADEN SEA-WOOD . 201 
 
 V. Tells of an interview between Northmour, 
 
 Clara, and Myself . . . , . .210 
 VI. Tells of my Introduction to the T\ll Man . 216
 
 I 
 
 \ 1 1 lis:. 11 !• WAS « km n i HROl «;n i in 
 
 r wii roN Window 223 
 
 vin. Tells thi I ist of the Tall Man . . . 230 
 Tills how Northmour carried out his Threat . 237 
 
 THE NIGHT . . . .245 
 
 THE SIRE DE MALE TR 01 TS DOOR . . .271 
 
 VIDENCi THE GUITAR. . . .297
 
 THE SUICIDE CLUB
 
 THE SUICIDE CLUB 
 
 STORY OF THE YOUNG MAN WITH THE CREAM TARTS. 
 
 DURING his residence in London, the accomplished 
 Prince Florizel of Bohemia gained the affection 
 of all classes by the seduction of his manner and by a 
 well-considered generosity. He was a remarkable 
 man even by what was known of him ; and that was 
 but a small part of what he actually did. Although 
 of a placid temper in ordinary circumstances, and 
 accustomed to take the world with as much philosophy 
 as any ploughman, the Prince of Bohemia was not 
 without a taste for ways of life more adventurous and 
 eccentric than that to which he was destined by his 
 birth. Now and then, when he fell into a low humor, 
 when there was no laughable play to witness in any of 
 the London theatres, and when the season of the year 
 was unsuitable to those field sports in which he 
 excelled all competitors, he would summon his confi- 
 dant and Master of the Horse, Colonel Geraldine, and 
 bid him prepare himself against an evening ramble. 
 The Master of the Horse was a young officer of a 
 brave and even temerarious disposition. He greeted 
 the news with delight, and hastened to make ready. 
 Long practice and a varied acquaintance of life had 
 given him a singular facility in disguise ; he could 
 adapt not only his face and bearing, but his voice and 
 almost his thoughts, to those of any rank, character, or 
 nation ; and in this way he diverted attention from the 
 Prince, and sometimes gained admission for the pair 
 into strange societies. The civil authorities were 
 never taken into the secret of these adventures ; the 
 imperturbable courage of the one and the ready inven- 
 tion and chivalrous devotion of the other had brought
 
 4 .'. i /;' ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 them through a Bcore of dangerous passes ; and they 
 
 in confidence as time went on. 
 • evening in March they were driven by a sharp 
 fall of sleet into an > >ystcr Bar in the immediate neigh- 
 borhi ■ l i i' ester Square. Colonel Geraldine was 
 dressed ami painted to represent a person connected 
 with the Press in reduced circumstances; while the 
 Prince had, as usual, travestied his appearance by the 
 addition of false whiskers and a pair of large adhesive 
 eyebrows. These lent him a shaggy and weather-beaten 
 air, which, for one of his urbanity, formed the most 
 impenetrable disguise. Thus equipped, the com- 
 mander and his satellite sipped their brandy and soda 
 in security. 
 
 The bar was full of guests, both male and female ; 
 
 but though more than one of these offered to fall into 
 
 talk with our adventurers, none of them promised 
 
 row interesting upon a nearer acquaintance. There 
 
 nothing present but the lees of London and the 
 commonplace of disrespectability ; and the Prince had 
 already fallen to yawning, and was beginning to grow 
 weary of the whole excursion, when the swing doors 
 were pushed violently open, and a young man, followed 
 by a couple of commissionaires, entered the bar. Each 
 of the commissionaires carried a large dish of cream 
 
 under a cover, which they at once removed ; and 
 the young man made the round of the company, and 
 these confections upon everyone's accept- 
 ance with an exaggerated courtesy. Sometimes his 
 offer was laughingly a< < epted ; sometimes it was firmly, 
 or even harshly, rejected. In these latter cases the ncw- 
 
 r always ate the tart himself, with some more or 
 rous commentary. 
 At last he ac< osted Prince Florizel. 
 " Sir," said he, with a profound obeisance, proffering 
 the tart at the same time between his thumb and fore- 
 
 r, "will you so far honor an entire stranger? I 
 can answer for the quality of the pastry, having eaten 
 
 lozen and three of them myself since five oclock."
 
 THE SUICIDE CLUB. 5 
 
 " I am in the habit," replied the Prince, " of looking 
 not so much to the nature of a gift as to the spirit in 
 which it is offered." 
 
 "The spirit, sir," returned the young man, with 
 another bow, " is one of mockery." 
 
 "Mockery?" repeated Florizel. "And whom do 
 you propose to mock ? " 
 
 "I am not here to expound my philosophy," replied 
 the other, " but to distribute these cream tarts. If I 
 mention that I heartily include myself in the ridicule 
 of the transaction, I hope you will consider honor sat- 
 isfied and condescend. If not, you will constrain me 
 to eat my twenty-eighth, and I own to being weary of 
 the exercise." 
 
 "You touch me," said the Prince, "and I have all 
 the will in the world to rescue you from this dilemma, 
 but upon one condition. If my friend and I eat your 
 cakes — for which we have neither of us any natural 
 inclination — we shall expect you to join us at supper 
 by way of recompense." 
 
 The young man seemed to reflect. 
 
 " I have still several dozen upon hand," he said at 
 last ; " and that will make it necessary for me to visit 
 several more bars before my great affair is concluded. 
 This will take some time ; and if you are hungry — " 
 
 The Prince interrupted him with a polite gesture. 
 
 " My friend and I will accompany you," he said : 
 " for we have already a deep interest in your very 
 agreeable mode of passing an evening. And now that 
 the preliminaries of peace are settled, allow me to sign 
 the treaty for both." 
 
 And the Prince swallowed the tart with the best 
 grace imaginable. 
 
 " It is delicious," said he. 
 
 " I perceive you are a connoisseur," replied the 
 young man. 
 
 Colonel Geraldine likewise did honor to the pastry ; 
 ana every one in that bar having now either accepted 
 or refused his delicacies, the young man with the
 
 6 V ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 i ream tarts led the way to another and similar estab- 
 lishment. The two commissionaires, who seemed to 
 have grown accustomed to their absurd employment, 
 followed immediately after; and the Prince and the 
 
 ■ el brought up the rear, arm in arm, and smiling 
 
 U h other as they went. In this order the company 
 
 visited two other taverns, where scenes were enacl d 
 
 like nature to that already described — some rcfus- 
 epting, the favors of this vagabond hos- 
 pitality, and the young man himself eating each 
 rejected tart. 
 
 ( >n leaving the third saloon the young man counted 
 his stOl • I here were hut nine remaining, three in 
 one tray and six in the other. 
 
 " ( ientlemen," said he, addressing himself to his two 
 new followers, "I am unwilling to delay your supper. 
 I am positively sure you must be hungry. I feel 
 that I owe you a special consideration. And on this 
 great day for me, when I am closing a career of folly 
 by my most conspicuously silly action, I wish to behave 
 handsomely to all who give me countenance. Gentle- 
 man, you shall wait no longer. Although my consti- 
 tution is shattered by previous excesses, at the risk of 
 my life I liquidate the suspensory condition." 
 
 With these words he (rushed the nine remaining 
 tarts into his mouth, and swallowed them at a single 
 movement each. Then, turning to the commissionaires, 
 he gave them a couple of sovereigns. 
 
 "I have to thank you," said he, "for your extra- 
 ordinary patience." 
 
 1 he dismissed them with a bow apiece. For 
 
 seconds he stood lookingat the purse from which 
 
 he had just paid his assistants, then, with a laugh, he 
 
 d it into the middle of the street, and signified his 
 
 readiness for supper. 
 
 In a small French restaurant in Soho, which had 
 enjoyed an exaggerated reputation for some little 
 while, but had already begun to be forgotten, and in a 
 private room up two pair of stairs, the three compan-
 
 THE SUICIDE CLUB. * 
 
 ions made a very elegant supper, and drank three or 
 four bottles of champagne, talking the while upon indif- 
 ferent subjects. The young man was fluent and gay, 
 but he laughed louder than was natural in a person oi 
 polite breeding ; his hands trembled violently, and his 
 voice took sudden and surprising inflections, which 
 seemed to be independent of his will. The dessert had 
 been cleared away, and all three had lighted their cigars, 
 when the Prince addressed him in these words : — ■ 
 
 " You will, I am sure, pardon my curiosity. What I 
 have seen of you has greatly pleased but even more 
 puzzled me. And though I should be loth to seem 
 indiscreet, I must tell you that my friend and I are 
 persons very well worthy to be entrusted with a secret. 
 We have many of our own, which we are continually 
 revealing to improper ears. And if, as I suppose, your 
 story is a silly one, you need have no delicacy with us, 
 who are two of the silliest men in England. My name 
 is Godall, Theophilus Godall ; my friend is Major 
 Alfred Hammersmith — or at least, such is the name by 
 which he chooses to be known. We pass our lives 
 entirely in the search for extravagant adventures ; and 
 there is no extravagance with which we are not capable 
 of sympathy." 
 
 " I like you, Mr. Godall," returned the young man ; 
 " you inspire me with a natural confidence ; and I 
 have not the slightest objection to your friend, the 
 Major ; whom I take to be a nobleman in masquerade. 
 At least, I am sure he is no soldier." 
 
 The Colonel smiled at this compliment to the perfec- 
 tion of his art ; and the young man went on in a more 
 animated manner. 
 
 " There is every reason why I should not tell you 
 my story. Perhaps that is just the reason why I am 
 going to do so. At least, you seem so well prepared to 
 hear a tale of silliness that I cannot find it in my heart 
 to disappoint you. My name, in spite of your example, 
 I shall keep to myself. My age is not essential to the 
 narrative. I am descended from my ancestors by
 
 I r/rs. 
 
 nd from il>> m I inherited the 
 eligible human tenement which I still occupy and 
 rtune of three hundred poundsa year. 1 sup] 
 they also handed on to me .1 hare-brain humor, which 
 it has be< n n y < hii f di light to indulge. I received a 
 I ( an play the violin nearly well 
 enough to earn money in the orchestra of a penny 
 . but not quite. '1 he same remark applies to the 
 and the French horn. I learned enough of 
 to lose about a hundred a year at that scientific 
 game. My acquaintance with French w;is sufficient to 
 enable me to squander money in Paris with almost the 
 same facility as in London. In short, I am a person 
 full of manly accomplishments. I have had every sort 
 of adventure, including a duel about nothing. Only 
 two months ago I met a y< ung lady exactly suited to 
 my taste in mind and body ; I found my heart melt ; 
 I w that I had come upon my fate at last, and was in 
 the way to fall in love. But when I came to reckon 
 up what remained to me of my capital, I found it 
 amounted to something less than four hundred pounds! 
 I a~k you fairly — can a man who respects himself fall 
 in love on four hundred pounds? I concluded, cer- 
 tainly not; left the presence of my charmer, and 
 slightly accelerating my usual rate of expenditure, 
 this morning to my last eighty pounds. This I 
 divided into two equal parts; forty 1 reserved for a 
 particular purpo i ; the remaining forty I was to dis- 
 sipat the night. 1 have passed a very enter- 
 
 tain : nd played many farces besides that of 
 
 rts which procured me the advantage of 
 ; for I was determim d, as I told you, 
 r to a still more foolish conclu- 
 me throw in}- purse into the 
 *, the forty pounds were at an end. Now you 
 know me as well as I know myself : a fool but consist- 
 ent in his folly; and, as I will ask you to believe, 
 neither a whimperer nor a < oward." 
 
 From the whole tone of the young man's statement
 
 THE SUICIDE CLUB. 9 
 
 it was plain that he harbored very bitter and contempt- 
 uous thoughts about himself. His auditors were led 
 to imagine that his love affair was nearer his heart than 
 he admitted, and that he had a design on his own life. 
 The farce of the cream tarts began to have very much 
 the air of a tragedy in disguise. 
 
 "Why, is this not odd," broke out Geraldine, giving 
 a look to Prince Florizel, " that we three fellows should 
 have met by the merest accident in so large a wilder- 
 ness as London, and should be so nearly in the same 
 condition ? " 
 
 " How ? " cried the young man. " Are you, too, 
 ruined ? Is this supper a folly like my cream tarts ? 
 Has the devil brought three of his own together for a 
 last carouse ?" 
 
 " The devil, depend upon it, can sometimes do a 
 very gentlemanly thing," returned Prince Florizel ; 
 " and I am so much touched by this coincidence, that, 
 although we are not entirely in the same case, I am 
 going to put an end to the disparity. Let your heroic 
 treatment of the last cream tarts be my example." 
 
 So saying, the Prince drew out his purse and took 
 from it a small bundle of bank-notes. 
 
 "You see, I was a week or so behind you, but I 
 mean to catch you up and come neck and neck into 
 the winning-post," he continued. "This," laying one 
 of the notes upon the table, will suffice for the bill. 
 As for the rest " 
 
 He tossed them into the fire, and they went up the 
 chimney in a single blaze. 
 
 The young man tried to catch his arm, but as the 
 table was between them his interference came too late. 
 
 "Unhappy man," he cried, "you should not have 
 burned them all ! You should have kept forty pounds." 
 
 " Forty pounds ! " repeated the Prince. " Why, in 
 heaven's name, forty pounds?" 
 
 " Why not eighty ? " cried the Colonel ; " for to my 
 certain knowledge there must have been a hundred in 
 the bundle."
 
 io V ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 'It was only forty pounds he needed," said the 
 young man gloomily. But without them there is no 
 admission. The rule is strict Forty pounds for 
 each. Accursed life, where a man cannot even die 
 without money ! " 
 
 The Prince and the Colonel exchanged glances. 
 
 Explain yourself," said the latter. "I have still a 
 
 et-book tolerably well lined, and T need not say 
 
 how readily I would share my wealth with (iodall. But 
 
 1 must know to what end : you must certainly tell us 
 
 what you mean." 
 
 The young man seemed to awaken ; he looked 
 uneasily from one to the other, and his face flushed 
 deeply. 
 
 "You are not foolingme?" lie asked. "You are 
 indeed ruined men like me?" 
 
 " Indeed, I am for my part," replied the Colonel. 
 
 " And for mine," said the Prince," I have given you 
 proof. Who but a ruined man would throw his notes 
 into the fire? The action speaks for itself." 
 
 "A ruined man — yes," returned the other suspi- 
 ly, " or else a millionaire." 
 
 "Enough, sir," said the Prince; "I have said so, 
 and I am not accustomed to have my word remain in 
 
 " Ruined ? " said the young man. "Are you ruined, 
 like me? Are you, after a life of indulgence, come 
 tD such a pass that you can only indulge yourself in 
 one thing more? Are you" — he kept lowering his 
 voice as he went on — "are you going to give your- 
 selves that last indulgence ! Are you going to avoid 
 the consequences of your folly by the one infallible 
 and easy path ? Are you going to give the slip to the 
 sheriff's officers of conscience by the one open door?" 
 ddenly he broke off and attempted to laugh. 
 
 "Here is your health!" he cried, emptying his 
 glass, " and good night to you, my merry ruined men." 
 
 ' ilonel Oeraldine caught him by the arm as he was 
 about to rise.
 
 THE SUICIDE CLUB. II 
 
 "You lack confidence in us," he said, "and you are 
 wrong. To all your questions I make answer in the 
 affirmative. But I am not so timid, and can speak the 
 Queen's English plainly. We too, like yourself, have 
 had enough of life, and are determined to die. Sooner 
 or later, alone or together, we meant to seek out death 
 and beard him where he lies ready. Since we have 
 met you, and your case is more pressing, let it be to- 
 night — and at once — and, if you will, all three together. 
 Such a penniless trio," he cried, "should go arm in 
 arm into the halls of Pluto, and give each other some 
 countenance among the shades ! " 
 
 Geraldine had hit exactly on the manners and into- 
 nations that became the part he was playing. The 
 Prince himself was disturbed, and looked over at his 
 confidant with a shade of doubt. As for the young 
 man, the flush came back darkly into his cheek, and 
 his eyes threw out a spark of light. 
 
 " You are the men for me ! " he cried, with an 
 almost terrible gayety. "Shake hands upon the 'bar- 
 gain ! " (his hand was cold and wet.) " You little 
 know in what a company you will begin the march ! 
 You little know in what a happy moment for yourselves 
 you partook of my cream tarts ! I am only a unit, 
 but I am a unit in an army. I know Death's private 
 door. I am one of his familiars, and can show you 
 into eternity without ceremony and yet without scan- 
 dal." 
 
 They called upon him eagerly to explain his mean- 
 ing. 
 
 " Can you muster eighty pounds between you ? " he 
 demanded. 
 
 Geraldine ostentatiously consulted his pocket-book, 
 and replied in the affirmative. 
 
 " Fortunate beings ! " cried the young man. " Forty 
 pounds is the entry money of the Suicide Club." 
 
 "The Suicide Club," said the Prince, " why, what 
 the devil is that ? " 
 
 " Listen," said the young man ; "this is the age of
 
 \2 V ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 conveniences, and I have to tell you of the last per* 
 fectionol We have affairs in different places; 
 
 and hence railways were invented. Railways sepa- 
 nfallibly from our friends ; and so telegraphs 
 made that we might communicate speedily at 
 Even in hotels we have lifts to spare 
 us a climb of some hundred steps. Now, we know 
 that life is only a play the fool upon as long 
 
 as the part amuses us. There was one more conveni- 
 ence lacking to modern comfort; a decent, easy way 
 to '[ tit that stage ; the back stairs to liberty ; or, as I 
 said this moment, Death's private door. This, my 
 two fellow-rebels, is supplied by the Suicide Club. 
 Do not suppose that you and I are alone, or even 
 exceptional, in the highly reasonable desire that we 
 profess. A large number of our fellow-men, who have 
 grown heartily sick of the performance in which they 
 are expected to join daily and all their lives long, are 
 only kept from (light by one or two considerations. 
 Some have families who would be shocked, or even 
 blamed, if the matter became public ; others have a 
 weakness at heart and recoil from the circumstances 
 of death. That is, to some extent, my own experi- 
 ence. I cannot put a pistol to my head and draw the 
 
 >nger than myself withhold-; 
 
 the act ; and although I loathe life, I have not strength 
 
 ly to take hold of death and be done 
 
 with it. For such .is I, and for ;ill who desire to be 
 
 : the< oil witho tl posthumous scandal, the Suicide 
 
 ) his been inaugurated. I low this has been man- 
 
 . what is its history, or what may be its ramifica- 
 
 in other lands, I am myself uninformed ; and 
 
 what I know of its < onstitution, I am not at liberty to 
 
 to you. To this extent, however, I am 
 
 ir service. \i you are truly tired of life, I will 
 
 introduce you to-night to a meeting; and if not to-night, 
 
 at least so ' within the week, you will be easily 
 
 . a" your existences. It is now (consulting his 
 
 watch) eleven; by half-past, at latest, we must leave
 
 THE SUICIDE CIUB. 13 
 
 this place ; so that you have half an hour before you 
 to consider my proposal. It is more serious than a 
 cream tart," he added, with a smile ; "and I suspect 
 more palatable." 
 
 " More serious, certainly," returned Colonel Geral- 
 dine ; " and as it is so much more so, will you allow 
 me five minutes' speech in private with my friend, Mr. 
 Godall ? " 
 
 "It is only fair," answered the young man. "If 
 you will permit, I will retire." 
 
 " You will be very obliging," said the Colonel. 
 
 As soon as the two were alone — " What," said Prince 
 Florizel, " is the use of this confabulation, Geraldine ? 
 I see you are flurried, whereas my mind is very tran- 
 quilly made up. I will see the end of this." 
 
 "Your Highness," said the Colonel turning pale; 
 "let me ask you to consider the importance of your 
 life, not only to your friends, but to the public interest. 
 ' If not to-night,' said this madman ; but supposing 
 that to-night some irreparable disaster were to over- 
 take your Highness's person, what, let me ask you, 
 what would be my despair, and what the concern and 
 disaster of a great nation ? " 
 
 " I will see the end of this," repeated the Prince in 
 his most deliberate tones ; " and have the kindness, 
 Colonel Geraldine, to remember and respect your 
 word of honor as a gentleman. Under no circum- 
 stances, recollect, nor without my special authority, 
 are you to betray the incognito under which I choose 
 to go abroad. These were my commands, which I 
 now reiterate. And now," he added, " let me ask 
 you to call for the bill." 
 
 Colonel Geraldine bowed in submission ; but he had 
 a very white face as he summoned the young man of 
 the cream tarts, and issued his directions to the waiter. 
 The Prince preserved his undisturbed demeanor, and 
 described a Palais Royal farce to the young suicide 
 with great humor and gusto. He avoided the Col- 
 onel's appealing looks without ostentation, and selected
 
 i j NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS, 
 
 another cheroot with more than usual rare. Indeed, 
 
 he was now the only man of the party who kept any 
 land over his nei \ 
 
 ■ bill wasdisi harged, the Prince giving the whole 
 change of the note to the astonished waiter ; and the 
 three drove off in a four whe ler. They were not long 
 upon the way before the i ab stopped at the entrance 
 i k court 1 [ere all descended, 
 ter Geraldine had paid the fare, the young man 
 turn* Idressed Prince Florizel as follows: 
 
 " It is still time, Mr. Godall, to make good your 
 escape into thralldom. And for you too, Major Ham- 
 mersmith. Reflect well before you take another 
 step ; and if your hearts say no — here are the cross- 
 ." 
 "Lead on, sir," said the Prince. "I am not the 
 man to go back from a thing once said." 
 
 ilness does me good," replied their guide. 
 "I have never seen anyone so unmoved at this con- 
 juncture; and yet you are not the first whom I have 
 rted to this door. More than one of my friends 
 has preceded me, where I knew I must shortly follow. 
 But this is of no interest to you. Wait me here for 
 only a few moments; 1 shall return as soon as I have 
 arranged the preliminaries of your introduction." 
 
 And with that the young man, waving his hand to 
 his ( ompanions, turned into the court, entered a door- 
 nd disappeared. 
 
 II our follies," said Colonel Geraldine in a low 
 , ''this is the wildest and most dangerous." 
 rfectly believe so," returned the Prince. 
 "We have still," pursued the Colonel, "a moment 
 Let me beseech your Highness to profit 
 by the opportunity and retire. The consequences of 
 this irk, and may be so grave, that I feel 
 
 myself justified in pushing a little farther than usual 
 the liberty which your Highness is so condescending 
 as to allow me in private." 
 
 u Am I to understand that Colonel Geraldine is
 
 THE SUICIDE CLUB. 1 5 
 
 afraid ? " asked his Highness, taking his cheroot from 
 his lips, and looking keenly into the other's face. 
 
 " My fear is certainly not personal," replied the other 
 proudly; " of that your highness may rest well assured." 
 
 " I had supposed as much," returned the Prince, 
 with undisturbed good humor; "but I was unwilling 
 to remind you of the difference in our stations. No 
 more — no more," he added, seeing Geraldine about to 
 apologize, "you stand excused." 
 
 And he smoked placidly, leaning against a railing, 
 until the young man returned. 
 
 "Well," he asked, "has our reception been ar- 
 ranged ? " 
 
 " Follow me," was the reply. " The President will 
 see you in the cabinet. And let me warn you to be 
 frank in your answers. I have stood your guarantee; 
 but the club requires a searching inquiry before admis- 
 sion ; for the indiscretion of a single member would 
 lead to the dispersion of the whole society forever." 
 
 The Prince and Geraldine put their heads together 
 for a moment. " Bear me out in this," said the one ; 
 and " bear me out in that," said the other ; and by 
 boldly taking up the characters of men with whom 
 both were acquainted, they had come to an agreement 
 in a twinkling, and were ready to follow their guide 
 into the President's cabinet. 
 
 There were no formidable obstacles to pass. The 
 outer door stood open ; the door of the cabinet was 
 ajar ; and there, in a small but very high apartment, 
 the young man left them once more. 
 
 "He will be here immediately," he said with a nod, 
 as he disappeared. 
 
 Voices were audible in the cabinet through the fold- 
 ing doors which formed one end ; and now and then 
 the noise of a champagne cork, followed by a burst of 
 laughter, intervened among the sounds of conversation. 
 A single tall window looked out upon the river and the 
 embankment , and by the disposition of the lights they 
 judged themselves not far from Charing Cross station.
 
 16 fTS, 
 
 The furniture was scanty, and the coverings worn to 
 the thread; and there was nothing movable except a 
 hand-bell in the centre of a round tabic, and the hats 
 
 and coats of a considerable party hung round the wall 
 on i 
 
 Whal den is this?" said Geraldine. 
 
 "That is what I have conic to sec," replied the 
 Prim c. " [f they keep live devils on the premises, the 
 thing may grow amusing." 
 
 Just then the folding door was opened no more than 
 sary for the passage of a human body ; and 
 there entered at the same moment a louder buzz of 
 talk, and the redoubtable President of the Suicide 
 Club. The President was a man of fifty or upwards ; 
 • and rambling in his gait, with shaggy side- 
 whiskers, a bald top to his head, and a veiled gray eye, 
 which now and then emitted a twinkle. His mouth, 
 which embraced a large cigar, he kept continually 
 \ ing round and round and from side to side, as he 
 look' ously and coldly at the strangers. He 
 
 was dressed in light tweeds, with his neck very open, 
 in a striped shirt collar ; and carried a minute book 
 under one arm. 
 
 " Good evening," said he, after he had closed the door 
 behind him. "I am told you wish to speak with me." 
 
 " We have a desire, sir, to join the Suicide Club," 
 replied the Colonel. 
 
 The President rolled his cigar about in his mouth. 
 
 "What is that?" he said abruptly. 
 
 " Pardon me," returned the Colonel, "but I believe 
 you are the person best qualified to give us information 
 on that point." 
 
 "I?" cried the President. "A Suicide Club? 
 Come, come ! this is a frolic for All Fools' Day. I can 
 make allowances for gentlemen who get merry in their 
 liquor ; but let there be an end to this." 
 
 " Call your Club what you will," said the Colonel, 
 " you have some company behind these doors, and we 
 t on joining it."
 
 THE SUICIDE CLUB. 1 7 
 
 "Sir," returned the President, curtly, " you have 
 made a mistake. This is a private house, and you 
 must leave it instantly." 
 
 The Prince had remained quietly in his seat through- 
 out this little colloquy; but now, when the Colonel 
 looked over to him, as much as to say, " Take your 
 answer and come away, for God's sake! " he drew his 
 cheroot from his mouth, and spoke — 
 
 " I have come here," said he, " upon the invitation 
 of a friend of yours. He has doubtless informed you 
 of my intention in thus intruding on your party. Let 
 me remind you that a person in my circumstances has 
 exceedingly little to bind him, and is not at all likely 
 to tolerate much rudeness. I am a very quiet man, as 
 a usual thing; but, my dear sir, you are either going to 
 oblige me in the little matter of which you are aware, 
 or you shall very bitterly repent that you ever admitted 
 me to your ante-chamber." 
 
 The President laughed aloud. 
 
 "That is the way to speak," said he. 'You are a 
 man who is a man. You know the way to my heart, 
 and can do what you like with me. Will you," he 
 continued, addressing Geraldine, " will you step aside 
 for a few minutes? I shall finish first with your com- 
 panion, and some of the club's formalities require to 
 be fulfilled in private." 
 
 With these words he opened the door of a small 
 closet, into which he shut the Colonel. 
 
 "I believe in you," he said to Florizel, as soon as 
 they were alone; "but are you sure of your friend ?" 
 
 " Not so sure as I am of myself, though he has more 
 cogent reasons," answered Florizel, " but sure enough 
 to bring him here without alarm. He has had enough 
 to cure the most tenacious man of life. He was cash- 
 iered the other day for cheating at cards." 
 
 " A good reason, I daresay," replied the President: 
 " at least, we have another in the same case, and I feel 
 sure of him. Have you also been in the Service, may 
 I ask ? "
 
 iS ABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 "I have," v. ' ply; "but 1 was too lazy, I left 
 
 it early." 
 
 "What i-; your reason for being tired of life?" pur- 
 sued the President 
 
 " The same, as near as I ran make out," answered 
 the Prince; "unadulterated laziness." 
 
 The President started. " D n it," said he, " you 
 
 must have something letter than that." 
 
 '" I have no more money," added Florizel. " That is 
 also a vexation, without doubt. It brings my sense of 
 idleness to an acute point." 
 
 The President rolled his cigar round in his mouth 
 for some seconds, directing his gaze straight into the 
 of this unusual neophyte; but the Prince sup- 
 ported his scrutiny with unabashed good temper. 
 
 " If I had not a deal of experience," said the Presi- 
 dent at last, " I should turn you off. But I know the 
 world; and this much any way, that the most frivolous 
 excuses for a suicide are often the toughest to stand 
 by. And when I downright like a man, as I do you, 
 sir, I would rather strain the regulation than deny him.'' 
 
 The Prince and the Colonel, one after the other, 
 were subjected to a lung and [.articular interrogatory: 
 the Prince alone; but Geraldine in the presence of the 
 Prince, so that the President might observe the coun- 
 tenance of the one while the other was being warmly 
 cross-examined. The result was satisfactory; and the 
 dent, after having booked a few details of each 
 case, produced a form of oath to be accepted. Nothing 
 could be conceived more passive than the obedience 
 promised, or more stringent than the terms by which 
 the juror bound himself. The man who forfeited a 
 i awftd could scarcely have a rag of honor or 
 any of the consolations of religion left to him. Flori- 
 zel signed the document, but not without a shudder; 
 the Colonel followed his example with an air of great 
 depression. Then the President received the entry 
 money; and without more ado, introduced the two 
 friends into the smoking-room of the Suicide Club.
 
 THE SUICIDE CLUB. 19 
 
 The smoking-room of the Suicide Club was the 
 same height as the cabinet into which it opened, but 
 much larger, and papered from top to bottom with an 
 imitation of oak wainscot. A large and cheerful fire 
 and a number of gas-jets illuminated the company. 
 The Prince and his follower made the number up to 
 eighteen. Most of the party were smoking, and drink- 
 ing champagne; a feverish hilarity reigned, with sudden 
 and rather ghastly pauses. 
 
 "Is this a full meeting? " asked the Prince. 
 
 " Middling," said the President. " By the way," he 
 added, "if you have any money, it is usual to offer 
 some champagne. It keeps up a good spirit, and is 
 one of my own little perquisites." 
 
 " Hammersmith," said Florizel, " I may leave the 
 champagne to you." 
 
 And with that he turned away and began to go 
 round among the guests. Accustomed to play the host 
 in the highest circles, he charmed and dominated all 
 whom he approached ; there was something at once 
 winning and authoritative in his address ; and his 
 extraordinary coolness gave him yet another distinc- 
 tion in this half maniacal society. As he went from 
 one to another he kept both his eyes and ears open, 
 and soon began to gain a general idea of the people 
 among whom he found himself. As in all other places 
 of resort, one type predominated : people in the prime 
 of youth, with every show of intelligence and sensibil- 
 ity in their appearance, but with little promise of 
 strength or the quality that makes success. Few were 
 much above thirty, and not a few were still in their 
 teens. They stood, leaning on tallies and shifting on 
 their feet ; sometimes they smoked extraordinarily 
 fast, and sometimes they let their cigars go out ; some 
 talked well, but the conversation of others was plainly 
 the result of nervous tension, and was equally without 
 wit or purport. As each new bottle of champagne was 
 opened, there was a manifest improvement in gaiety. 
 Only two were seated — one in a chair in the recess of
 
 20 V ARAB/AN NIGHTS. 
 
 the window, with li is head hanging and his hands 
 plunged deep into his trouser pockets, pale, visibly 
 I with perspiration, saying never a word, a very 
 '. of -"ul and body; the other sat on the divan 
 by tl chin y, and attracted notice by a trench- 
 ant dissimilarity from all the rest. He was probably 
 : rty, but he looked fully ten years older ; 
 and Florizel thought he had never seen a man more 
 naturally hideous, nor one more ravaged by disease 
 and ruinous e\< itements. He was no more than skin 
 and hone, was partly paralyzed, and wore spectacles 
 of such unusual power, that his eyes appeared through 
 the - reatly magnified and distorted in shape. 
 
 pt the Prince and the President, he was the only 
 n in the room who preserved the composure of 
 ordinary life. 
 
 There was little decency among the members of the 
 club. Some boasted of the disgraceful actions, the 
 consequences of which had reduced them to seek 
 refuge in death ; and the others listened without dis- 
 approval. There was a tacit understanding against 
 '. judgments ; and whoever passed the club doors 
 enjoyed already some of the immunities of the tomb. 
 They drank to each other's memories, and to those of 
 notable suicides in the past. They compared and 
 developed their different views of death — some declar- 
 that it was no more than blackness and cessation ; 
 r-, full of a hope that that very night they should 
 1 aling the stars and commercing with the mighty 
 dead. 
 
 14 To the eternal memory of Baron Trenck, the type 
 '. " ( ricd one. " He went out of a small 
 into a : mailer, that he might come forth again to 
 : 
 
 "For my part," said a second, "I wish no more 
 
 : a bandage for my eyes and cotton for my ears. 
 
 ave no cotton thick enough in this 
 
 '." 
 
 A third was for reading the mysteries of life in a
 
 THE SUICIDE CLUB. 21 
 
 future state ; and a fourth professed that he would 
 never have joined the club, if he had not been induced 
 to believe in Mr. Darwin. 
 
 " I could not bear," said this remarkable suicide, 
 " to be descended from an ape." 
 
 Altogether, the Prince was disappointed by the bear- 
 ing and conversation of the members. 
 
 " It does not seem to me," he thought, "a matter for 
 so much disturbance. If a man has made up his mind 
 to kill himself, let him do it, in God's name, like a 
 gentleman. This flutter and big talk is out of place." 
 
 In the meanwhile Colonel Geraldine was a prey to 
 the blackest apprehensions ; the club and its rules 
 were still a mystery, and he looked round the room for 
 some one who should be able to set his mind at rest. 
 In this survey his eye lighted on the paralytic person 
 with the strong spectacles ; and seeing him so exceed- 
 ingly tranquil, he besought the President, who was 
 going in and out of the room under a pressure of busi- 
 ness, to present him to the gentleman on the divan. 
 
 The functionary explained the needlessness of all 
 such formalities within the club, but nevertheless pre- 
 sented Mr. Hammersmith to Mr. Malthus. 
 
 Mr. Malthus looked at the Colonel curiously, and 
 then requested him to take a seat upon his right. 
 
 " You are a new comer," he said, " and wish infor- 
 mation ? You have come to the proper source. It is 
 two years since I first visited this charming club." 
 
 The Colonel breathed again. If Mr. Malthus had 
 frequented the place for two years there could be lit- 
 tle danger for the Prince in a single evening. But 
 Geraldine was none the less astonished, and began to 
 suspect a mystification. 
 
 "What!" cried he, "two years! I thought — but 
 indeed I see I have been made the subject of a pleas- 
 antry." 
 
 " By no means," replied Mr. Malthus mildly. " My 
 case is peculiar. I am not, properly speaking, a sui- 
 cide at all; but, as it were, an honorary member. I
 
 W ARABIAN XI CUTS. 
 
 rarely visit the club twice in two months. My infir- 
 mity and the kindness of the President hive procured 
 me these little immunities, for whit h besides I pay at 
 dvanced i ite. Even as it is my luck has been 
 rdinary." 
 "1 am afraid," said the Colonel, "that I must ask 
 you to be more explicit. You must remember that I 
 till most imperfectly acquainted with the rules of 
 the club." 
 
 " An ordinary member who < omes here in search of 
 death like yourself," replied the paralytic, "returns 
 tvery evening until fortune favors him. 1 [e can, even if 
 he is penniless, get board and lodging from the Presi- 
 dent: very fair, 1 believe, and < kan, although, of course, 
 not luxurious; that could hardly be, considering the 
 lity (if I may so express myself) of the subscrip- 
 tion. And then the President's company is a delicacy 
 in itself." 
 
 " Indeed ! " cried Gcraldine, " he had not greatly 
 
 ssessed me." 
 "Ah!" said Mr. Malthus, "you do not know the 
 man: the drollest fellow ! What stories ! What cyn- 
 icism ! He knows life to admiration and, between 
 ourselves, is probably the most corrupt rogue in Christ- 
 endom." 
 
 "And he also," asked the Colonel, "is a perma- 
 nency — like yourself, if I may say so without offence?" 
 " Indeed, he is a permanency in a very different 
 from me," replied Mr. Malthus. "I have been 
 iusly spared, but I must go at last. Now he 
 ; plays. He shuffles and deals for the club, and 
 makes the ne< essary arrangements. That man, my 
 dear Mr. Hammersmith, is the very soul of ingenuity. 
 1 or three years he has pursued in London his useful 
 and, I think 1 i. his artistic calling; and not so 
 
 much a. a whisper of suspicion has been once aroused. 
 I believe him myself to be inspired. You doubtless 
 :nber the celebrated ease, six months ago, of the 
 gentleman who was accidentally poisoned in a chemist's
 
 THE SUICIDE CLUB. 23 
 
 shop ? That was one of the least rich, one of the least 
 racy, of his notions; but then, how simple ! and how 
 safe ! " 
 
 "You astound me," said the Colonel. "Was that 
 
 unfortunate gentleman one of the " He was about 
 
 to say "victims;" but bethinking himself in time, he 
 substituted — " members of the club ? " 
 
 In the same flash of thought, it occurred to him that 
 Mr. Malthus himself had not at all spoken in the tone 
 of one who is in love with death; and he added hur- 
 riedly: 
 
 " But I perceive I am still in the dark. You speak 
 of shuffling and dealing; pray for what end ? And 
 since you seem rather unwilling to die than otherwise, 
 I must own that I cannot conceive what brings you 
 here at all." 
 
 "You say truly that you are in the dark," replied 
 Mr. Malthus with more animation. " Why, my dear 
 sir, this club is the temple of intoxication. If my 
 enfeebled health could support the excitement more 
 often, you may depend upon it I should be more often 
 here. It requires all the sense of duty engendered by 
 a long habit of ill-health and careful regimen, to keep 
 me from excess in this, which is, I may say, my last 
 dissipation. I have tried them all, sir," he went on, 
 laying his hand on Geraldine's arm, " all without 
 exception, and I declare to you, upon my honor, there 
 is not one of them that has not been grossly and 
 untruthfully overrated. People trifle with love. Now, 
 I deny that love is a strong passion. Fear is the 
 strong passion; it is with fear that you must trifle, if 
 you wish to taste the intense joys of living. Envy 
 me — envy me, sir," he added with a chuckle, " I am a 
 coward ! " 
 
 Geraldine could scarcely repress a movement of 
 repulsion for this deplorable wretch; but he com- 
 manded himself with an effort, and continued his 
 inquiries. 
 
 " How, sir," he asked, " is the excitement so art-
 
 NEW ! V NIGHTS. 
 
 fully d? and where is there any clement of 
 
 " 1 must tell you how the victim I evening 
 
 Mr. Mai thus; "and not only the 
 
 victim, b ■ i'. who is to be the instru- 
 
 death's high priest for 
 
 said the Colonel, "do they then 
 
 "Thetroubl ide is removed in that way," 
 
 • acd Malthus with a nod. 
 "Merciful Heavens!" ited the G 'and 
 
 may you — may I — may the — my friend, I mean — may 
 any of us be pitch this evening as the slayer of 
 
 another man's body and immortal spirit? C 
 thing mg men born of women? Oh! 
 
 ly of infamie 
 He it to rise in his horror, when he caught 
 
 the Pi ixed upon him from across 
 
 the room with a frowning and angry stare. And in a 
 t G ire. 
 
 "* After all," he added, " why not ? And since you 
 say the game is interesting, voglie la gallre — I follow 
 the club ! " 
 
 Mr. Malthus had keenly enjoyed the I 
 amazement and disgust. He had the vanity of wick- 
 edness; and it pleased him to see another man give 
 rous movement, while he felt himself, in 
 rior to su< h emotions. 
 " You now, afti ment of surpri ." 
 
 lights 
 
 i< iety. \ how it i ombines the 
 
 • ible, a duel, ; »man 
 
 i . did well enough; I i ordi- 
 
 ally admire the refinement of their minds; but it has 
 
 1 for a Christian country to attain this 
 
 exti . this absolute of poignancy. 
 
 i will understand how vapid are all amusements to 
 
 a man who lias acquired a taste for this one. The
 
 THE SUICIDE CLUB. 25 
 
 game we play," he continued, " is one ot extreme 
 simplicity. A full pack — but I perceive you are about 
 to see the thing in progress. Will you lend me the 
 help of your arm ? I am unfortunately paralyzed." 
 
 Indeed, just as Mr. Malthus was beginning his 
 description, another pair of folding-doors was thrown 
 open, and the whole club began to pass, not without 
 some hurry, into the adjoining room. It was similar 
 in every respect to the one from which it was entered, 
 but somewhat differently furnished. The centre was 
 occupied by a long green table, at which the President 
 sat shuffling a pack of cards with great particularity. 
 Even with the stick and the Colonel's arm, Mr. Malthus 
 walked with so much difficulty that everyone was 
 seated before this pair and the Prince, who had waited 
 for them, entered the apartment; and, in consequence, 
 the three took seats close together at the lower end of 
 the board. 
 
 " It is a pack of fifty-two," whispered Mr. Malthus. 
 " Watch for the ace of spades, which is the sign of 
 death, and the ace of clubs, which designates the offi- 
 cial of the night. Happy, happy young men ! " he 
 added. " You have good eyes, and can follow the 
 game. Alas ! I cannot tell an ace from a deuce across 
 the table." 
 
 And he proceeded to equip himself with a second 
 pair of spectacles. 
 
 " I must at least watch the faces," he explained. 
 
 The Colonel rapidly informed his friend of all that 
 he had learned from the honorary member, and of the 
 horrible alternative that lay before them. The Prince 
 was conscious of a deadly (lull and a contraction about 
 his heart; he swallowed with difficulty, and looked 
 from side to side like a man in a maze. 
 
 " One bold stroke," whispered the Colonel, " and we 
 may still escape." 
 
 But the suggestion recalled the Prince's spirits. 
 
 " Silence ! " said he. " Let me see that you can 
 play like a gentleman for any stake, however serious."
 
 :6 ATE W AR. I BIAN NIGH IS. 
 
 And he looked about him, on< e more to all appear* 
 ance at liis ease, although his heart beat thickly, and 
 he was conscious of an unpleasant heat in his bosom. 
 The members were all very quiet and intent; everyone 
 was pale, but none so pale as Mr. Malthus. His eyes 
 protruded; his head kept nodding involuntarily upon 
 his spine; his hand-, found their way, one after the 
 other, to his mouth, where they made (hitches at his 
 tremulous and ashen lips. It was plain that the hon- 
 orary member enjoyed his membership on very start- 
 ling terms. 
 
 '"Attention, gentlemen !" said the President. 
 
 And he began slowly dealing the cards about the 
 table in the reverse direction, pausing until each man 
 had shown his card. Nearly everyone hesitated; ami 
 sometimes you would see a player's fingers stumble 
 more than once before he could turn over the momen- 
 tous slip of pasteboard. As the Prince's turn drew 
 nearer, he was conscious of a growing and almost suf- 
 focating excitement; but he had somewhat of the 
 gambler's nature, and recognized almost with astonish- 
 ment that there was a degree of pleasure in his sensa- 
 tions. The nine of clubs fell to his lot; the three of 
 spades was dealt to Geraldine; and the queen of hearts 
 to Mr. Malthus, who was unable to suppress a sob of 
 relief. The young man of the cream tarts almost 
 immediately afterwards turned over the ace of clubs, 
 and remained frozen with horror, the card still resting 
 on his finger; lie had not come there to kill, but to be 
 killed; and the Prince, in his generous sympathy with 
 position, almost forgot the peril that still hung over 
 himself and his friend. 
 
 The deal was coming round again, and still Death's 
 had not come out. The players held their respi- 
 ration, and only breathed by gasps. The Prince 
 ved another club; Geraldine had a diamond; but 
 when Mr. Malthus turned up his card a horrible noise, 
 like that of something breaking, issued from his 
 mouth; and he rose from his seat and sat down again,
 
 THE SUICIDE CLUB. 27 
 
 with no sign of his paralysis. It was the ace of spades. 
 The honorary member had trifled once too often with 
 his terrors. 
 
 Conversation broke out again almost at once. The 
 players relaxed their rigid attitudes, and began to rise 
 from the table and stroll back by twos and threes into 
 the smoking-room. The President stretched his arms 
 and yawned, like a man who had finished his day's 
 work. But Mr. Malthus sat in his place, with his head 
 in his hands, and his hands upon the table, drunk and 
 motionless — a thing stricken down. 
 
 The Prince and Geraldine made their escape at once. 
 In the cold night air their horror of what they had 
 witnessed was redoubled. 
 
 " Alas ! " cried the Prince, " to be bound by an oath 
 in such a matter ! to allow this wholesale trade in 
 murder to be continued with profit and impunity ! If 
 I but dared to forfeit my pledge ! " 
 
 " That is impossible for your Highness," replied the 
 Colonel, whose honor is the honor of Bohemia. "But 
 I dare, and may with propriety, forfeit mine." 
 
 "Geraldine," said the Prince, "if your honor suffers 
 in any of the adventures into which you follow me, 
 not only will I never pardon you, but — what I believe 
 will much more sensibly affect you — I should never 
 forgive myself." 
 
 I receive your Highness's commands," replied 
 the Colonel. " Shall we go from this accursed spot ? " 
 
 "Yes," said the Prince. "Call a cabin Heaven's 
 name, and let me try to forget in slumber the memory 
 of this night's disgrace." 
 
 But it was notable that he carefully read the name 
 of the court before he left it. 
 
 The next morning, as soon as the Prince was stirring, 
 Colonel Geraldine brought him a daily newspaper, 
 with the following paragraph marked : — ■ 
 
 " Melancholy Accident. — This morning, about 
 two o'clock, Mr. Bartholomew Malthus, of 16 Chep- 
 stow Place, Westbourne Grove, on his way home from
 
 new Arabian nights. 
 
 a party at a friend's house, f< ii over the upper parapel 
 
 in Trafalgai Square, fracturing liis skull and breaking 
 
 and an arm. Death was instantaneous. Mr. 
 
 ompanied by a friend, was engaged in 
 
 it the time of the unfoi I ■ < ui - 
 
 rence. A.s Mr. Malthus was paralytic, it is thought 
 
 that his fall may '1 by another 
 
 ire. The unhappy gentleman was well known in 
 
 the most respectable circles, and his loss will be widely 
 
 and deeply deplored." 
 
 " If ever a soul went straigl I I i Hell," said Geral- 
 dine solemnly, '* it was that paral) tic man's." 
 
 The Prince buried his face in his hands, and remained 
 silent. 
 
 "I am almost rejoiced," continued the Col 
 "to know that he is dv.A. But for our young man of 
 the cream tarts I confess my heart bleeds." 
 
 " ( 'leraldine," said the Prim . raising his face, " that 
 unhappy lad was last night as innocent as you and I; 
 ing the guilt of blood is on Ids soul. 
 When I think of the President, my heart grows sick 
 within me. I do not know how it shall be done, but] 
 shall have that scoundrel at my mercy as there is a God 
 in heaven. What an experience, what a lesson, was 
 that garni Is ! " ^ 
 
 "One," said the Colonel, "never to be repeated." 
 The Prince remained without replying, that 
 
 Mine grew alarmed. 
 
 I to return," he said. ''You have 
 and een too much horror alread . . 
 The duties of your high position forbid the repetition 
 of the hazard " 
 
 "There is much in what you say," replied Prince 
 Florizel, "and I am not altogether pleased with my 
 own determination. Alas ! in the clothes of the 
 great tate, what is there but a man ? I never 
 
 felt : more acutely than now, Geraldine, 
 
 but it is stronger than I. (kin I cease to interest 
 if in the fortunes of the unhappy young man who
 
 THE SUICIDE CLUB. 29 
 
 supped with us some hours ago ? Can I leave the 
 President to follow his nefarious career unwatched ? 
 Can I begin an adventure so entrancing, and not follow 
 it to an end ? No, Geraldine ; you ask of the Prince 
 more than the man is able to perform. To-night, once 
 more, we take our places at the table of the Suicide 
 Club." 
 
 Colonel Geraldine fell upon his knees. 
 
 "Will your Highness take my life?" he cried. "It 
 is his — his freely ; but do not, O do not ! let him ask 
 me to countenance so terrible a risk." 
 
 " Colonel Geraldine," replied the Prince, with some 
 haughtiness of manner, "your life is absolutely your 
 own. I only looked for obedience ; and when that is 
 unwillingly rendered, I shall look for that no longer. 
 I add one word : your importunity in this affair h.:s 
 been sufficient." 
 
 The Master of the Horse regained his feet at once. 
 "Your Highness," he said, "may I be excused in 
 my attendance this afternoon ? I dare not, as an 
 honorable man, venture a second time into that fatal 
 house until I have perfectly ordered my affairs. Your 
 Highness shall meet, I promise him, with no more 
 opposition from the most devoted and grateful of his 
 servants." 
 
 "My dear Geraldine," returned Prince Florizel, ".I 
 always regret when you oblige me to remember my 
 rank. Dispose of your day as you think fit, but be 
 here before eleven in the same disguise." 
 
 The club, on this second evening, was not so fully 
 attended ; and when Geraldine and the Prince arrived, 
 there were not above half-a-dozen persons in the smok- 
 ing room. His Highness took the President aside and 
 congratulated him warmly on the demise of Mr. Mal- 
 thus. 
 
 " I like," he said, "to meet with capacity, and cer- 
 tainly find much of it in you. Your profession is of a 
 very delicate nature, but 1 sec you are well qualified 
 to conduct it with success and secrecy."
 
 30 NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 The President was somewhat affected by these com« 
 pliments from one of his Highness's superior bearing, 
 knowledged them almost with humility. 
 
 "Poor Malthy !" he added, "I shall hardly know 
 the club without him. The most of my patrons are 
 , sir, and poetical boys, who are not much com- 
 pany for me. Not but what Malthy had some poetry, 
 ; hut it was of a kind that I could understand." 
 I can readily imagine you should find yourself in 
 sympathy with Mr. Malthus," returned the Prince 
 
 He struck me as a man of a very original disposi- 
 tion." 
 
 The young man of the cream tarts was in the room, 
 but painfully depressed and silent. His late com- 
 panions sought in vain to lead him into conversation. 
 
 "How bitterly I wish," he cried, "that I had never 
 brought you to this infamous abode ! Begone, while 
 ire clean-handed. If you could have heard the 
 old man scream as he fell, and the noise of his bonis 
 upon the pavement ! Wish me, if you have any kind- 
 to so fallen a being — wish the ace of spades for 
 me to-night ! " 
 
 A few more members dropped in as the evening 
 went on, but the club did not muster more than the 
 devil's dozen when they took their places at the table. 
 The Prince was again conscious of a certain joy in his 
 alarms ; but he was astonished to see Geraldine so 
 much more self-possessed than on the night before. 
 
 " It is extraordinary," thought the Prince, " that a 
 will, made or unmade, should so greatly influence a 
 young man's spirit." 
 
 " Attention, gentlemen !" said the President, and he 
 began to deal. 
 
 Three times the cards went all round the table, and 
 neither of the marked cards had yet fallen from his 
 hand. The excitement as he began the fourth dis- 
 tribution was overwhelming. There were just cards 
 enough to go once more entirely round. The Prince, 
 who sat second from the dealer's left, would receive,
 
 THE SUICIDE CLUB. 31 
 
 in the reverse mode of dealing practiced at the club, 
 the second last card. The third player turned up a 
 black ace — it was the ace of clubs. The next received 
 a diamond, the next a heart, and so on ; but the ace of 
 spades was still undelivered. At last Geraldine, who 
 sat upon the Prince's left, turned his card ; it was an 
 ace, but the ace of hearts. 
 
 When Prince Florizel saw his fate upon the table in 
 front of him, his heart stood still. He was a brave 
 man, but the sweat poured off his face. There were 
 exactly fifty chances out of a hundred that he was 
 doomed. He reversed the card ; it was the ace of 
 spades. A loud roaring filled his brain, and the table 
 swam before his eyes. He heard the player on his 
 right break into a fit of laughter that sounded between 
 mirth and disappointment ; he saw the company 
 rapidly dispersing, but his mind was full of other 
 thoughts. He recognized how foolish, how criminal, 
 had been his conduct. In perfect health, in the prime 
 of his years, the heir to a throne, he hr.d gambled 
 away his future and that of a brave and loyal country. 
 "God," he cried, " God forgive me !" And with that, 
 the confusion of his senses passed away, and he 
 regained his self-possession in a moment. 
 
 To his surprise Geraldine had disappeared. There 
 was no one in the card-room but his destined butcher 
 consulting with the President, and the young man of 
 the cream tarts, who slipped up to the Prince and 
 whispered in his ear : 
 
 " I would give a million, if I had it, for your luck." 
 
 His Highness could not help reflecting, as the 
 young man departed, that he would have sold his 
 opportunity for a much more moderate sum. 
 
 The whispered conference now came to an end. 
 The holder of the ace of clubs left the room with a 
 look of intelligence, and the President, approaching 
 the unfortunate Prince, proffered him his hand. 
 
 "I am pleased to have met you, sir," said he, "and 
 pleased to have been in a position to do you this tri-
 
 . : not complain of delay, 
 ( >n the m< ond evening — what a stroke ol lu< k !" 
 
 Tl . /ored in vain to articulate some • 
 
 thing in . but his mouth was dry and his 
 
 - . little sickish ?" a ked the President, 
 : solicitude. "Most gentlemen do. 
 Will 
 
 fied in the affirmative, and the other 
 
 diately filled some of the spirit into a tumbler. 
 
 " i old Malthy !" ejaculated the President, as 
 
 the Prince drained the glass. " He drank near upon 
 
 a pint, ;.nd little enough good it seemed to do him !" 
 
 re amenable to treatment," said the Prince,a 
 
 1 revived. "I am my own man again at 
 
 , as you perceive. And so, let me ask you, what 
 
 ns ?" 
 
 " You will proceed along the Strand in the direction 
 
 of the Cil i the left-hand pavement, until you 
 
 meet the gentleman who has just left the room. He 
 
 will ( ontinue your instructions, and him you will have 
 
 the kindness to obey ; the authority of the club is 
 
 d in his person for the night. And now," added 
 
 the President, " I wish you a pleasant walk." 
 
 Florizel acknowledged the salutation rather awk- 
 wardly, and took his leave. He passed through the 
 room, where the bulk of the players were 
 still consuming champagne, some of whi< h he had him- 
 lid paid for ; and he was surprised to find 
 •If cursing them in his heart. 1 fe put on his hat and 
 • coat in the cabinet, and selected his umbrella from 
 rner. The familiarity of these acts, and the thought 
 that he was about them for the last time, betrayed him 
 into a fit of laughter which sounded unpleasantly in 
 ars. He conceived a relu< I in< e to leave the 
 li itead to the window. The sight 
 of lb iid the darkness recalled him to himself. 
 
 . i :. be a man," he thought, "and 
 [f away."
 
 THE SUICIDE CLUB. 1$ 
 
 At the corner of Box Court three men fell upon 
 Prince Florizel and he was unceremoniously thrust into 
 a carriage, which at once drove rapidly away. There 
 was already an occupant. 
 
 " Will your Highness pardon my zeal ?" said a well- 
 known voice. 
 
 The Prince threw himself upon the Colonel's neck in 
 a passion of relief. 
 
 " How can I ever thank you ?" he cried. " And how 
 was this effected ?" 
 
 Although he had been willing to march upon his 
 doom, he was overjoyed to yield to friendly violence, 
 and return once more to life and hope. 
 
 "You can thank me effectually enough," replied the 
 Colonel, " by avoiding all such dangers in the future. 
 And as for your second question, all has been managed 
 by the simplest means. I arranged this afternoon with 
 a celebrated detective. Secrecy has been promised 
 and paid for. Your own servants have been princi- 
 pally engaged in the affair. The house in Box Court 
 has been surrounded since nightfall, and this, which is 
 one of your own carriages, has been awaiting you for 
 nearly an hour." 
 
 " And the miserable creature who was to have slain 
 me — what of him ?" inquired the Prince. 
 
 " He was pinioned as he left the club," replied the 
 Colonel, " and now awaits your sentence at the Palace, 
 where he will soon be joined by his accomplices. " 
 
 " Geraldine," said the Prince, " you have saved me 
 against my explicit orders, and you have done well. I 
 owe you not only my life, but a lesson ; and I should 
 be unworthy of my rank if I did not show myself grate- 
 ful to my teacher. Let it be yours to choose the man- 
 ner." 
 
 There was a pause, during which the carriage con- 
 tinued to speed through the streets, and the two men 
 were each buried in his own reflections. The silence 
 was broken by Colonel Geraldine. 
 
 "Your Highness," said he, "has by this time a
 
 H V ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 derable body of prisoners. There is at least one 
 criminal among the number to whom justice should be 
 dealt. ■ oath forbids us all recourse to law; and 
 discretion would forbid it equally it" the oath were 
 n< d. May I inquire your Highness's intention ?" 
 " [i I d," answered Florizel ; "the President 
 
 must fall in duel. It only remains to choose his adver- 
 sary." 
 
 "\ hn ess has permitted me to name my own 
 
 ipense," said the Colonel. "Will he permit me 
 
 tn ask the appointment of my brother? It is an 
 
 honorable post, but 1 dare assure your Highness that 
 
 the lad will acquit himself with credit." 
 
 " You ask me an ungracious favor," said the Prince, 
 
 • I must refuse you nothing." 
 The Colonel kissed his hand with the greatest affec- 
 tion ; and at that moment the carriage rolled under the 
 archway of the Prince's splendid residence. 
 
 An hour after, Florizel in his official robes, and 
 covered with all the orders of Bohemia, received the 
 members of the Suicide Club. 
 
 "Foolish and wicked men," said he, "as many of 
 you as have been driven into this strait by the lack of 
 fortune shall receive employment and remuneration 
 from my officers. Those who suffer under a sense of 
 guilt must have recourse to a higher and more gener- 
 ous Potentate than I. I feel pity for all of you, deeper 
 than you can imagine ; to-morrow you shall tell me 
 your stories ; and as you answer more frankly, I shall 
 be the more able to remedy your misfortunes. As for 
 ," he added, turning to the President, "I should 
 only offend a person of your parts by any offer of assis- 
 ; but I have instead a piece of diversion to pro- 
 to you. Here,' laying his hand on the shoulder 
 »lonel Geraldine's young brother, " is an officer of 
 mine who desires to make a little tour upon the Con- 
 tinent ; and I ask you, as a favor, to accompany him 
 on this excursion. Do you," he went on, changing his 
 tone, " do you shoot well with the pistol ? Because
 
 THE SUICIDE CLUB. 35 
 
 you may have need of that accomplishment When two 
 men go traveling together, it is best to be prepared for 
 all. Let me add that, if by any chance you should 
 lose young Mr. Geraldine upon the way, I shall always 
 have another member of my household to place at 
 your disposal; and I am known, Mr. President, to have 
 long eyesight, and as long an arm." 
 
 With these words, said with much sternness, the 
 Prince concluded his address. Next morning the 
 members of the club were suitably provided for by his 
 munificence, and the President set forth upon his 
 travels, under the supervision of Mr. Geraldine, and a 
 pair of faithful and adroit lackeys, well trained in the 
 Prince's household. Not content with this, discreet 
 agents were put in possession of the house of Box 
 Court, and all letters of visitors for the Suicide Club or 
 its officials were to be examined by Prince Florizel in 
 person. 
 
 Here (says my Arabian author) ends The Story of 
 the Young Man with the Cream Tarts, who is 
 now a comfortable householder in Wig more Street, Caven- 
 dish Square. The number, for obvious reasons, I sup- 
 press. Those who care to pursue the adventures of 
 Prince Florizel and the President of the Suicide Club, 
 may read the History of the Physician and the 
 Saratoga Trunk.
 
 )RY OF Till- PHYSICIAN AND 77/ P. 
 SARATOGA TRUNK. 
 
 Mr. Silas Q. Scuddamore was a young American of 
 a simple and harmless disposition, which was tin- more 
 to his < redit as he i ame from New England — a quarter 
 
 of the Xew World not precisely famous for thosequal- 
 ities. Although he was exceedingly rich, he kept a 
 note of all his expenses in a little paper pocket-book ; 
 and he had chosen to study the attractions of Paris 
 from the seventh story of what is called a furnished 
 hotel, in the Latin Quarter. There was a great deal 
 of habit in his penuriousness ; and his virtue, which 
 i rkable among his associates, was princi- 
 pally founded upon diffidence and youth. 
 
 The next room to his was inhabited by a lady, very 
 
 attractive in her air and very elegant in toilette, whom, 
 
 on his first arrival, he had taken for a Countess. In 
 
 course of time he had learned that she was known by 
 
 the name of Madame Zephyrine, and that whatever 
 
 station she occupied in life it was not that of a person 
 
 of title. Madame Zephyrine, probably in the hope of 
 
 enchanting the young American, used to flaunt by him 
 
 on the stairs with a civil inclination, a word of course, 
 
 and a knock-down look out of her black eves, and 
 
 disappear in a rustle of silk, and with the revelation of 
 
 and ankle. But these adva ii' . > 
 
 luraging Mr. Scud plunged him 
 
 into the depths of depression and bashfulness. She 
 
 to him several times for a light, or to apolo- 
 
 for the imaginary depredations of her poodle ; but 
 his mouth was i losed in the- presence of so superior a 
 
 :. his French promptly left him, and he could 
 only stare and stammer until she was gone. The slen- 
 derness of their intercourse did not prevent him from 
 36
 
 THE SUICIDE CLUB. 37 
 
 throwing out insinuations of a very glorious order 
 when he was safely alone with a few males. 
 
 The room on the other side of the American's — for 
 there were three rooms on a floor in the hotel — was ten- 
 anted by an old English physician of rather doubtful 
 reputation. Dr. Noel, for that was his name, had been 
 forced to leave London, where he enjoyed a large and 
 increasing practice ; and it was hinted that the police 
 had been the instigators of this change of scene. At 
 least he, who had made something of a figure in earliei 
 life, now dwelt in the Latin Quarter in great simplicity 
 and solitude, and devoted much of his time to study. 
 Mr. Scuddamore had made his acquaintance, and the 
 pair would now and then dine together frugally in a 
 restaurant across the street. 
 
 Silas Q. Scuddamore had many little vices of the 
 more respectable order, and was not restrained by deli- 
 cacy from indulging them in many rather doubtful 
 ways. Chief among his foibles stood curiosity. He 
 was a born gossip ; and life, and especially those parts 
 of it in which he had no experience, interested him to 
 the degree of passion. He Avas a pert, invincible ques- 
 tioner, pushing his inquiries with equal pertinacity and 
 indiscretion ; he had been observed, when he took a 
 letter to the post, to weigh it in his hand, to turn it 
 over and over, and to study the address with care ; 
 and when he found a flaw in the partition between his 
 room and Madame Zephyrine's, instead of filling it up, 
 he enlarged and improved the opening, and made use 
 of it as a spy-hole on his neighbor's affairs. 
 
 One day, in the end of March, his curiosity growing 
 as it was indulged, he enlarged the hole a little further, 
 so that he might command another corner of the room. 
 That evening, when lie went as usual to inspect Madame 
 Zephyrine's movements, he was astonished to find the 
 aperture obscured in an odd manner on the other side, 
 and still more abashed when the obstacle was suddenly 
 withdrawn and a titter of laughter reached his ears. 
 Some of the plaster had evidently betrayed the secret
 
 V ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 t if his Bpy-hole, and his neighbor had been returning 
 the compliment in kind. Mr. Scuddamore was moved 
 to a very a< ate feeling of annoyance ; he condemned 
 ame Z^phyrine unmercifully ; he even blamed 
 himself; but when lie found, next day, that she had 
 taken no means to baulk him of his favorite pastime, 
 he continued to profit by her carelessness, and gratify 
 his idle curiosity. 
 
 That next day Madame 7cphyrine received a long 
 visit from a tall, loosely-built man of fifty or upwards, 
 whom Silas had not hitherto seen. His tweed suit and 
 colored shirt, no less than his shaggy side-whiskers, 
 identified him as a Britisher, and his dull gray eye 
 affected Silas with a sense of cold. lie kept screwing 
 his month from side to side and round and round 
 during the whole colloquy, which was carried on in 
 whispers. More than on< e it seemed to the young New 
 Englandcr as if their gestures indicated his own apart- 
 ment ; but the only thing definite he could gather by 
 the most scrupulous attention was this remark made 
 by the Englishman in a somewhat higher key, as if in 
 answer to some reluctance or opposition. 
 
 " I have studied his taste to a nicety, and I tell you 
 again and again you are the only woman of the sort 
 that I can lay my hands on." 
 
 In answer to this, Madame Zephyrinc sighed, and 
 appeared by a gesture to resign herself, like one yield- 
 • unqualified authority. 
 
 That afternoon the observatory was finally blinded, 
 a wardrobe having been drawn in front of it upon the 
 other side, and while Silas was still lamenting over 
 this misfortune, which he attributed to the Britisher's 
 malign suggestion, the concierge brought him up a let- 
 ter in a female handwriting. It was conceived in 
 French of no very rigorous orthography, bore no signa- 
 ture, and in the m I encouraging terms invited the 
 young American to be present in a certain part of the 
 Bullier Ball at eleven o'clock that night. Curiosity 
 and timidity fought a long battle in his heart ; some-
 
 THE SUICIDE CLUB. 39 
 
 times he was all virtue, sometimes all fire and daring ; 
 and the result of it was that, long before ten, Mr. Silas 
 Q. Scuddamore presented himself in unimpeachable 
 attire at the door of the Bullier Ball Rooms, and paid 
 his entry money with a sense of reckless deviltry that 
 was not without its charm. 
 
 It was Carnival time, and the Ball was very full and 
 noisy. The lights and the crowd at first rather abashed 
 our young adventurer, and then, mounting to his brain 
 with a sort of intoxication, put him in possession of more 
 than his own share of manhood. He felt ready to face 
 the devil, and strutted in the ballroom with the swag- 
 ger of a cavalier. While he was thus parading, he 
 became aware of Madame Zephyrine and her Britisher 
 in conference behind a pillar. The cat-like spirit of 
 eaves-dropping overcame him at once. He stole nearer 
 and nearer on the couple from behind, until he was 
 within earshot. 
 
 " That is the man," the Britisher was saying ; " there 
 — with the long blond hair — speaking to a girl in 
 green." 
 
 Silas identified a very handsome young fellow of 
 small stature, who was plainly the object of this desig- 
 nation. 
 
 " It is well," said Madame Zephyrine. " I shall do 
 my utmost. But, remember, the best of us may fail in 
 such a matter." 
 
 " Tut ! " returned her companion ; " I answer for 
 the result. Have I not chosen you from thirty ? Go ; 
 but be wary of the Prince. I cannot think what cursed 
 accident has brought him here to-night. As if there 
 were not a dozen balls in Paris better worth his notice 
 than this riot of students and counter-jumpers ! See 
 him where he sits, more like a reigning Emperor at 
 home than a Prince upon his holidays ! " 
 
 Silas was again lucky. He observed a person of 
 rather a full build, strikingly handsome, and of a very 
 stately and courteous demeanor, seated at table with 
 another handsome young man, several years his junior.
 
 40 NIGHTS. 
 
 who 1 him with conspicuous deference. The 
 
 name of Prince struck gratefully on Silas's Republican 
 hearing, and the aspcci ol the person to whom thai 
 nam d its usual charm upon his 
 
 mind. 1 ; ne Z£pbyrine and her Enj 
 
 man to 1 ch other, and threading his way 
 
 through the assembly, approai lied the table which the 
 l'rim e and his confidant had honored with their < hoicc. 
 *' 1 tell you, Geraldin . irmer was saying,"the 
 
 d is madn Yourself (I am glad to remember 
 
 it) chose your brother for this perilous service, and you 
 are hound in duty to have a guard upon his conduct, 
 is consented to delay so many days in Paris; that 
 llready an imprudence, considering the character 
 of the man he has to deal with ; but now, when he is 
 within eight and forty hours of his departure, when he 
 is within two or three days of the decisive trial, I ask 
 you, is this a place for him to spend his time ? lie 
 should be in a gallery at practice ; he should be sleep- 
 ing long hours and taking moderate exen ise on foot ; 
 he should be On a rigorous diet, without white wines 
 or brandy. Does the dog imagine we are all playing 
 dy? The thing is deadly earnest, Geraldine." 
 " I know the lad too well to interfere," replied Colonel 
 ml well i ::ot to be alarmed, lie- 
 
 is more cautious than you fancy, and of an indomit- 
 able spirit. If it had been a woman I should not say 
 so much, but I trust the President to him and the two 
 • an instant's apprehension." 
 " I am gratified to hear you say so," replied the 
 my mind is not at rest. Tl 
 are well-train . and already has not this mis- 
 
 ded three tunes in eluding their observa- 
 tion ding several hours on end in private, and 
 
 ' lirs ? An amateur might 
 
 have lost him by accident, but if Rudolph and Jerome 
 
 thrown off the scent, it must have been done on 
 
 purpose, and by a man who had a cogent reason and 
 
 tional resources."
 
 THE SUICIDE CLUB. 4 1 
 
 " I believe the question is now one between my 
 brother and myself," replied Geraldine, with a shade 
 of offense in his tone. 
 
 " I permit it to be so, Colonel Geraldine," returned 
 Prince Florizel. " Perhaps, for that very reason, you 
 should be all the more ready to accept my counsels. 
 But enough. That girl in yellow dances well." 
 
 And the talk veered into the ordinary topics of a 
 Paris ballroom in the Carnival. 
 
 Silas remembered where he was, and that the hour 
 was already near at hand when he ought to be upon 
 the scene of his assignation. The more he reflected 
 the less he liked the prospect, and as at that moment 
 an eddy in the crowd began to draw him in the direc- 
 tion of the door, he suffered it to carry him away 
 without resistance. The eddy stranded him in a cor- 
 ner under the gallery, where his ear was immediately 
 struck with the voice of Madame Zephyrine. She 
 was speaking in French with the young man of the 
 blond locks who had been pointed out by the strange 
 Britisher not half an hour before. 
 
 " I have a character at stake," she said, " or I would 
 put no other condition than my heart recommends. 
 But you have only to say so much to the porter, and 
 he will let you go by without a word." 
 
 " But why this talk of debt ?" objected her companion. 
 
 "Heavens!" said she, "do you think I do not 
 understand my own hotel ? " 
 
 And she went by, clinging affectionately to her 
 companion's arm. 
 
 This put Silas in mind of his billet. 
 
 "Ten minutes hence," thought he, "and I may be 
 walking with as beautiful a woman as that, and even 
 better dressed — perhaps a real lady, possibly a woman 
 of title." 
 
 And then he remembered the spelling, and was a 
 little downcast. 
 
 " But it may have been written by her maid," he 
 imagined.
 
 4 2 ■'■' ARABIAN NIGHTS, 
 
 The clock was only a few minutes from the hour, 
 ami this immediate proximity set his heart beating at 
 a curious and rather disagreeable speed. He reflected 
 with relief that he was in no way bound to put in an 
 appearance. Virtue and cowardice were together, and 
 he made once mere for the door, but this time of his 
 own accord, and battling against the stream of people 
 which was now moving in a contrary direction. Per- 
 haps this prolonged resistance wearied him, or perhaps 
 he was in that frame of mind when merely to continue 
 in the same determination for a certain number of 
 minutes produces a reaction and a different purpose. 
 Certainly, at least, he wheeled about for a third time, 
 and ditl not stop until he had found a place of con- 
 cealment within a icw yards of the appointed place. 
 
 Here he went through an agony of spirit, in which 
 he several times prayed to God for help, for Silas had 
 been devoutly educated. He had now not the least 
 inclination for the meeting; nothing kept him from 
 flight but a silly fear lest he should be thought un- 
 manly ; but this was so powerful that it kept head 
 ,st all other motives; and although it could not 
 dei ide him to advance, prevented him from definitely 
 running away. At last the clock indicated ten min- 
 utes past the hour. Young Scuddamore's spirit began 
 to rise; he peered round the corner and saw no one at 
 the place of meeting; doubtless his unknown corre- 
 spondent had wearied and gone away. He became as 
 bold .is he had formerly been timid. It seemed to him 
 - me at all to the appointment, however 
 late, he was clear from the charge of cowardice. Nay, 
 now he began to suspect a hoax, and actually compli- 
 mented himself on his shrewdness in having suspe< ted 
 and out-manoeuvred his mystifiers. So very idle a 
 thing is a boy's mind! 
 
 Armed with these reflections, he advanced boldly 
 from his ( orner; but he had not taken above a couple 
 of st re a hand was laid upon his arm. He 
 
 turned and beheld a lady cast in a very large mould
 
 THE SUICIDE CLUB. 43 
 
 and with somewhat stately features, but bearing no 
 mark of severity in her looks. 
 
 " I see that you are a very self-confident lady- 
 killer," said she; "for you make yourself expected. 
 But I was determined to meet you. When a woman 
 has once so far forgotten herself as to make the first 
 advance, she has long ago left behind her all consid- 
 erations of petty pride." 
 
 Silas was overwhelmed by the size and attractions 
 of his correspondent and the suddenness with which 
 she had fallen upon him. But she soon set him at his 
 ease. She was very towardly and lenient in her beha- 
 vior; she led him on to make pleasantries, and then 
 applauded him to the echo; and in a very short time, 
 between blandishments and a liberal exhibition of 
 warm brandy, she had not only induced him to fancy 
 himself in love, but to declare his passion with the 
 greatest vehemence. 
 
 "Alas ! " she said; " I do not know whether I 
 ought not to deplore this moment, great as is the 
 pleasure you give me by your words. Hitherto I 
 was alone to suffer; now, poor boy, there will be two. 
 I am not my own mistress. I dare not ask you to 
 visit me at my own house, for I am watched by jealous 
 eyes. Let me see," she added; " I am older than you, 
 although so much weaker; and while I trust in your 
 courage and determination, I must employ my own 
 knowledge of the world for our mutual benefit. Where 
 do you live ? " 
 
 He told her that he lodged in a furnished hotel, and 
 named the street and number. 
 
 She seemed to reflect for some minutes, with an 
 effort of mind. 
 
 " I see," she said at last. " You will be faithful and 
 obedient, will you not?" 
 
 Silas assured her eagerly of his fidelity. 
 
 " To-morrow night, then," she continued, with an 
 encouraging smile, " you must remain at home all the 
 evening; and if any friends should visit you, dismiss
 
 44 NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 then* at once on any pretext that most readily presents 
 itself Y'>ur tli m >r is probably shut by t( n ? " she asked. 
 
 " Ry eleven," answered Silas. 
 
 "At a quarter past eleven," pursued the lady, "1* 
 the house. Merely cry tor the door to be opened, and 
 re you tall into no talk with the porter, as that 
 might ruin everything. Go straight to the corner 
 where the Luxembourg Gardens join the Boulevard; 
 there you will find me waiting you. 1 trust you to fol- 
 low my advice from point to point: and remember, if 
 you fail me in only one particular, you will bring the 
 sharpest trouble on a woman whose only fault is to 
 have seen and loved you." 
 
 " I cannot see the use of all these instructions," 
 said Silas. 
 
 " I believe you are already beginning to treat me as 
 a master," she cried, tapping him with her fan upon 
 the arm. " Patience, patience ! that should come in 
 time. A woman loves to be obeyed at first, although 
 afterwards she finds her pleasure in obeying. Do as I 
 ask you, for Heaven's sake, or I will answer for noth- 
 ing. Indeed, now I think of it," she added, with the 
 manner of one who had just seen further into a diffi- 
 culty, " I find a better plan of keeping importunate 
 visitors away. Tell the porter to admit no one for 
 you, except a person who may come that night to 
 claim a debt; and speak with some feeling, as though 
 you feared the interview, so that he may take your 
 words in earnest." 
 
 " I think you may trust me to protect myself against 
 intruders," he said, not without a little pique. 
 
 " That is how I should prefer the thing arranged," 
 she answered, coldly. "I know you men; you think 
 nothing of a woman's reputation." 
 
 Silas blushed and somewhat hung his head; for the 
 scheme he had in view had involved a little vain-glory- 
 ing before his acquaintances. 
 
 "Above all," she added, "do not speak to the por- 
 ter as you come out."
 
 THE SUICIDE CLUB. 45 
 
 "And why? "said he. ''Of all your instructions, 
 that seems to me the least important." 
 
 " You at first doubted the wisdom of some of the 
 others, which you now see to be very necessary," she 
 replied. " Believe me, this also has its uses; in time 
 you will see them; and what am I to think of your 
 affection, if you refuse me such trifles at our first inter- 
 view ? " 
 
 Silas confounded himself in explanations and apolo- 
 gies; in the middle of these she looked up at the clock 
 and clapped her hands together with a suppressed 
 scream. 
 
 " Heavens ! " she cried, "is it so late? I have not 
 an instant to lose. Alas, we poor women, what slaves 
 we are ! What have I not risked for you already?" 
 
 And after repeating her directions, which she art- 
 fully combined with caresses and the most abandoned 
 looks, she bade him farewell and disappeared among 
 the crowd. 
 
 The whole of the next day Silas was fdled with a 
 sense of great importance; he was now sure she was a 
 countess; and when evening came he minutely obeyed 
 her orders and was at the corner of the Luxembourg 
 Gardens by the hour appointed. No one was there. 
 He waited nearly half an hour, looking in the face of 
 everyone who passed or loitered near the spot; he 
 even visited the neighboring corners of the Boulevard 
 and made a complete circuit of the garden railings; 
 but there was no beautiful countess to throw herself 
 into his arms. At last, and most reluctantly, he began 
 to retrace his steps towards his hotel. On the way he 
 remembered the words he had heard pass between 
 Madame Zephyrine and the blond young man, and 
 they gave him an indefinite uneasiness. 
 
 "It appears," he reflected, "that everyone has to 
 tell lies to our porter." 
 
 He rang the bell, the door opened before him, 
 and the porter in his bed-clothes came to offer him a 
 light.
 
 V JAW/: I. IX NIGHTS. 
 
 "Ill: one ? " inquired the porter. 
 "He? N\ In -in do you mean ?" asked Silas, some* 
 what sharply, for Ik- was irritated by his disappoint- 
 ment. 
 
 " I did not noti< e him go out," continued the porter, 
 
 1 trust you paid him. We do not care, in this 
 
 i have lodgers who cannot meet their liabil- 
 
 "What the devil do you mean ?" demanded Silas, 
 rudely. " I cannot understand a word of this farrago." 
 
 "The short, blond young man who came for his 
 debt." returned theother. 'Him it is I mean. Who 
 
 else should it be, when I had your orders to admit no 
 one else ? " 
 
 " Why, good God, of course he never came," retorted 
 Silas. 
 
 " I believe what I believe," retorted the porter, 
 putting his tongue into his cheek with a most roguish 
 air. 
 
 "You are an insolent scoundrel," cried Silas, and, 
 feeling that he had made a ridiculous exhibition of 
 asperity, and at the same time bewildered by a dozen 
 alarms, he turned and began to run up stairs. 
 
 " Do you not want a light then ? " cried the porter. 
 
 But Silas only hurried the faster, and did not pause 
 until he had reached the seventh landing and stood in 
 front of his own door. There he waited a moment to 
 recover his breath, assailed by the worst forebodings 
 and almost dreading to enter the room. 
 
 When at last he did so he was relieved to find it 
 dark, and to all appearance, untenanted. He drew a 
 long breath. Here he was, home again in safety, and 
 this should be his last folly as certainly as it had been 
 his first. The matches stood on a little table by the 
 bed, and he began to grope his way in that direction. 
 As he moved, his apprehensions grew upon him once 
 more, and he was pleased, when his foot encountered 
 an obstacle, to find it nothing more alarming than a 
 chair. At last he touched curtains. From the posi-
 
 THE SUICIDE CLUB. 47 
 
 tion of the window, which was faintly visible, he knew 
 he must be at the foot of the bed, and had only to feel 
 his way along it in order to reach the table in question. 
 
 He lowered his hand, but what he touched was not 
 simply a counterpane — it was a counterpane with 
 something underneath it like the outline of a human 
 leg. Silas withdrew his arm and stood a moment pet- 
 rified. 
 
 "What, what," he thought, "can this betoken ?" 
 
 He listened intently, but there was no sound of 
 breathing. Once more, with a great effort, he reached 
 out the end of his finger to the spot he had already 
 touched ; but this time he leaped back half a yard, 
 and stood shivering and fixed with terror. There was 
 something in his bed. What it was he knew not, but 
 there was something there. 
 
 It was some seconds before he could move. Then, 
 guided by an instinct, he fell straight upon the matches, 
 and keeping his back toward the bed, lighted a candle. 
 As soon as the flame had kindled, he turned slowly 
 round and looked for what he feared to see. Sure 
 enough, there was the worst of his imaginations real- 
 ized. The coverlid was drawn carefully up over the 
 pillow, but it moulded the outline of a human body 
 lying motionless ; and when he dashed forward and 
 flung aside the sheets, he beheld the blond young man 
 whom he had seen in the Bullier Ball the night before, 
 his eyes open and without speculation, his face swollen 
 and blackened, and a thin stream of blood trickling 
 from his nostrils. 
 
 Silas uttered a long, tremulous wail, dropped the 
 candle, and fell on his knees beside the bed. 
 
 Silas was awakened from the stupor into which his 
 terrible discovery had plunged him, by a prolonged 
 but discreet tapping at the door. It took him some 
 seconds to remember his position ; and when he has- 
 tened to prevent anyone from entering it was already 
 too late. Dr. Noel, in a tall nightcap, carrying a lamp 
 which lighted up his long white countenance, sidling
 
 • ..'• ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 in Ids gait, and peering and cocking his head like some 
 
 ■ of bird, pushed the <l<>..r slowly open, and 
 
 I into the middle of the room. 
 '• I ■ ■ 1 heard a cry," bi " and 
 
 fearii might l>c unwell, 1 did not hesitate to 
 
 Silas, with a flushed face and a fearful beating heart, 
 kept between the Doctor and the bed ; but he found 
 
 ■ answer, 
 are in the dark," pursued the Doctor; "and 
 vet you have not. even begun to prepare for rest. You 
 will not easily persuade inst my own eyesight ; 
 
 and your face declares most eloquently that you 
 require either a friend or a physician — which is it to 
 be? Let me feel your pulse, for that is often a just 
 reporter of the heart." 
 
 He advanced to Silas, who still retreated before him 
 backwards, and sought to take him by the wrist? but 
 the strain on the young \;i :ri< mi's nerves had be 
 
 •eat for endurance. He avoided the Doctor with 
 a febrile movement, and, throwing himself upon the 
 . burst into a flood of weeping. 
 
 i as l)r. Noel perceived the dead man in the 
 bed his face darkened ; and hurrying back to the door 
 which he had left ajar, he hastily closed and double- 
 1 it. 
 
 he cried, addressing Silas in strident tones. 
 " This is no time for weeping. What have you done ? 
 II .v came this body in your room? Speak freely to 
 one who may be helpful. Do you imagine I would 
 ruin you ? Do you think this piece of dead flesh on 
 n alter in any degree the sympathy with 
 which you have inspired me ? Credulous youth, the 
 horror with which blind and unjust law regards an 
 :i never attaches to the doer in the eyes of those 
 who love him; and if I saw the friend of my heart 
 return to me out of seas of blood he would be in no 
 way changed in my affection. Raise yourself," he 
 said; " good and ill are a chimera; there is naught in
 
 THE SUICIDE CLUB. 49 
 
 life except destiny, and however you may be circum- 
 stanced there is one at your side who will help you to 
 the last." 
 
 Thus encouraged, Silas gathered himself together, 
 and in a broken voice, and helped out by the Doctor's 
 interrogations, contrived at last to put him in posses- 
 sion of the facts. But the conversation between the 
 Prince and Geraldine he altogether omitted, as he 
 had understood little of its purport, and had no idea 
 that it was in any way related to his own misadventure. 
 
 " Alas ! " cried Dr. Noel, " I am much abused, or 
 you have fallen innocently into the most dangerous 
 hands in Europe. Poor boy, what a pit has been dug 
 for your simplicity ! into what a deadly peril have 
 your unwary feet been conducted ! This man," he 
 said, " this Englishman, whom you twice saw, and 
 whom I suspect to be the soul of the contrivance, can 
 you describe him ? Was he young or old ? tall or 
 short ? " 
 
 But Silas, who, for all his curiosity, had not a see- 
 ing eye in his head, was able to supply nothing but 
 meagre generalities, which it was impossible to recog- 
 nize. 
 
 "I would have it a piece of education in all 
 schools ! " cried the Doctor angrily. " Where is the 
 use of eyesight and articulate speech if a man cannot 
 observe and recollect the features of his enemy ? I, 
 who know all the gangs of Europe, might have iden- 
 tified him, and gained new weapons for your defence. 
 Cultivate this art in future, my poor boy; you may find 
 it of momentous service." 
 
 "The future!" repeated Silas. "What future is 
 there left for me except the gallows ? " 
 
 " Youth is but a cowardly season," returned the 
 Doctor; "and a man's own troubles look blacker than 
 they are. I am old, and yet I never despair." 
 
 " Can I tell such a story to the police ?" demanded 
 Silas. 
 
 "Assuredly not," replied the Doctor. "From what
 
 50 Nl W ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 already oflhe machination in which you have 
 involved, your case is desperate upon that side; 
 and for the i ye of the authorities you are 
 
 infallibly the guilty person. And remember that we 
 only know a portion of the' plot; and the same infa- 
 trivers have doubtless arranged many other 
 circumstances which would be elicited by a police 
 inquiry, and help to fix the guilt more certainly upon 
 your innocent <•." 
 
 1 am then lost, indeed ! " cried Silas. 
 
 " 1 have not said so," answered Dr. Noel, "for I am 
 a cautious man." 
 
 "But look at this!" objected Silas, pointing to the 
 body. ''Here is this object in my bed: not to be 
 explained, not to be disposed of, not to be regarded 
 without horror." 
 
 " Horror?" replied the Doctor. "No. When this 
 sort of clot k has run down, it is no more to me than an 
 niouspii < e of mechanism, to be investigated with the 
 ry. When blood is once cold and stagnant, it is 
 no longer human blood; when flesh is once dead, it is 
 no longer that flesh whi< h we desire in our lovers and 
 respect in our friends. The grace, the attraction, the 
 terror, have all gone from it with the animating spirit. 
 Accustom yourself to look upon it with composure; 
 for if my scheme is practicable you will have to live 
 in constant proximity to that which now so greatly 
 horrifies you." 
 
 " Your scheme ? " cried Silas. " What is that ? Tell 
 me speedily, Doctor; for I have scarcely courage 
 enough to continue to exist." 
 
 Without replying, Dr. Noel turned towards the bed, 
 and proceeded to examine the corpse. 
 
 "Quite dead," he murmured. "Yes, as I had sup- 
 posed, the pockets empty. Yes, and the name cut off 
 the shirt. Their work has been done thoroughly and 
 well. Fortunately he is of small stature." 
 
 Silas followed these words with an extreme anxiety. 
 At last the Doctor, his autopsy completed, took
 
 THE SUICIDE CLUB. 5 1 
 
 a chair and addressed the young American with a 
 smile. 
 
 " Since I came into your room," said he, " although 
 my ears and my tongue have been so busy, I have not 
 suffered my eyes to remain idle. I noted a little while 
 ago that you have there, in the corner, one of those mon- 
 strous constructions which your fellow-countrymen 
 carry with them into all quarters of the globe — in a 
 word, a Saratoga trunk. Until this moment I have 
 never been able to conceive the utility of these erec- 
 tions; but then I began to have a glimmer. Whether 
 it was for convenience in the slave trade, or to obviate 
 the results of too ready an employment of the bowie- 
 knife, I cannot bring myself to decide. But one thing 
 I see plainly — the object of such a box is to contain a 
 human body." 
 
 " Surely," cried Silas, " surely this is not a time for 
 jesting." 
 
 " Although I may express myself with some degree 
 of pleasantry," replied the Doctor, " the purport of 
 my words is entirely serious. And the first thing we 
 have to do, my young friend, is to empty your coffer 
 of all it contains." 
 
 Silas, obeying the authority of Doctor Noel, put 
 himself at his disposition. The Saratoga trunk was 
 soon gutted of its contents, which made a considerable 
 litter on the floor; and then — Silas taking the heels 
 and the Doctor supporting the shoulders — the body of 
 the murdered man was carried from the bed, and, 
 after some difficulty, doubled up and inserted whole 
 into the empty box. With an effort on the part of 
 both, the lid was forced down upon this unusual bag- 
 gage, and the trunk was locked and corded by the 
 Doctor's own hand, while Silas disposed of what had 
 been taken out between the closet and a chest of 
 drawers. 
 
 "Now," said the Doctor, "the first step has been 
 taken on the way to your deliverance. To-morrow, 
 or rather to-day, it must be your task to allay the sus-
 
 //./ ; V NIGHTS. 
 
 •;> ol your porter, paying him all that you owe; 
 
 while you may trust me to make the arrangements net - 
 
 i inclusion. Meantime, follow me to 
 
 my room, where 1 .shall give you a safe and powerful 
 r, whatever you do, you must have rest." 
 The next day was the longest in Silas's memory; it 
 ed as if it would never be done. He denied him- 
 self to his friends, and sat in a corner with his 
 fixed upon the Saratoga trunk in dismal contempla- 
 tion. His own former indiscretions were now returned 
 i him in kind; for the observatory had been once 
 more opened, and lie was conscious of an almost con- 
 tinual study from Madame Xephyrine's apartment. 
 So distressing did this become, that he was at last 
 obliged to block up the spy-hole from his own side; 
 and when lie was thus secured from observation he 
 spent a considerable portion of his time in contrite 
 and pra) 
 I te in the evening Dr. Noel entered the room car- 
 rying in his iiandapairof sealed envelopes without 
 address, one somewhat bulky, and the other so slim as 
 em without enclosure. 
 
 ."he said, seating himself at the table, " the 
 
 time has now come for me to explain my plan for 
 
 salvation. To-morrow morning, at an early hour, 
 
 Prince Florizel of Bohemia returns to London, after 
 
 having diverted himself for a few days with the 
 
 Parisian Carnival. It was my fortune, a good while ago, 
 
 ■ Colonel Geraldine, his Master of the Horse, one 
 
 of those servio i so common in my profession, which 
 
 •ver forgotten upon either side. I have no need 
 
 plain to you the nature of the obligation under 
 
 which he was laid; suffice it to say that I knew him 
 
 y to serve me in any practicable manner. Now, it 
 
 was necessary for you to gain London with your 
 
 trunk unopened. To this the Custom House seemed 
 
 to oppose a fatal difficulty; but I bethought me that 
 
 the 1 so < onsiderable a person as the Prince, 
 
 is, as a matter of courtesy, passed without examina-
 
 THE SUICIDE CLUB. 53 
 
 tion by the officers of Custom. I applied to Colonel 
 Geraldine, and succeeded in obtaining a favorable 
 answer. To-morrow, if you go before six to the hotel 
 where the Prince lodges, your baggage will be passed 
 over as a part of his, and you yourself will make the 
 journey as a member of his suite." 
 
 " It seems to me, as you speak, that I have already 
 seen both the Prince and Colonel Geraldine; I even 
 overheard some of their conversation the other even- 
 ing at the Bullier Ball." 
 
 " It is probable enough; for the Prince loves to mix 
 with all societies," replied the Doctor. " Once arrived 
 in London," he pursued, "your task is nearly ended. 
 In this more bulky envelope I have given you a letter 
 which I dare not address; but in the other you will 
 find the designation of the house to which you must 
 carry it along with your box, which will there be taken 
 from you and not trouble you any more." 
 
 "Alas!" said Silas, " I have every wish to believe 
 you; but how is it possible ? You open up to me a 
 bright prospect, but, I ask you, is my mind capable of 
 receiving so unlikely a solution ? Be more generous, 
 and let me farther understand your meaning." 
 
 The Doctor seemed painfully impressed. 
 
 " Boy," he answered, "you do not know how hard a 
 thing you ask of me. But be it so. I am now inured 
 to humiliation; and it would be strange if I refused 
 you this, after having granted you so much. Know, 
 then, that although I now make so quiet an appear- 
 ance—frugal, solitary, addicted to study — when I was 
 younger, my name was once a rallying-cry among the 
 most astute and dangerous spirits of London; and 
 while I was outwardly an object for respect and con- 
 sideration, ray true power resided in the most secret, 
 terrible, and criminal relations. It is one of the per- 
 sons who then obeyed me that I now address myself 
 to deliver you from your burden. They were men of 
 many different nations and dexterities, all bound 
 together by a formidable oath, and working to the
 
 ; V ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 same purposes; the trade ol the association was in 
 murder; and I who speak to you, innocent as I 
 appear, was the chieftain of this redoubtable crew." 
 
 What?" cried Silas. "A murderer? Anil, one 
 with whom murdei was a trade? Can I take your 
 
 hand? Ought I to SO much as accept your services? 
 Dark and criminal old man, would you make an acconv 
 '/h .;nd my distress ? " 
 
 The Doctor bitterly laughed. 
 
 " Vmi are difficult to please, Mr. Scuddamore," said 
 he; "hut 1 now offer you your choice of company 
 between the murdered man and the murderer. If 
 your conscience is too nice to accept my aid, say so, 
 and 1 will immediately leave you. Thenceforward 
 can deal with your trunk and its belongings as 
 best suits your upright conscience." 
 
 "I own myself wrong," replied Silas. "I should 
 
 have remembered how generously you offered to shield 
 
 me, even before 1 had convinced you of my inno- 
 
 . and I continue to listen to your connscls with 
 
 gratitude." 
 
 " That is well," returned the Doctor; "and I per- 
 ceive you are beginning to learn some of the lessons 
 of experience." 
 
 "At the same time," resumed the New-Englander, 
 " as you confess yourself accustomed to this tragical 
 business, and the people to whom you recommend me 
 are your own former associates and friends, could you 
 not yourself undertake the transport of the box, and 
 rid me at once of its detested presence ?" 
 
 ■ :i my word," replied the Doctor, "I admire 
 you cordially. If you do not think I have already 
 meddled suffii iently in your concerns, believe me, 
 from my heart I think the contrary. Take or leave 
 my services as I offer them; and trouble me with no 
 words of gratitude, for I value your consideration 
 more lightly thin I do your intellect. A time 
 will come, if you should be spared to see a number of 
 years in health and mind, when you will think differ*
 
 THE SUICIDE CLUB. 55 
 
 ently of all this, and blush for your to-night's beha- 
 vior." 
 
 So saying, the Doctor arose from his chair, repeated 
 his directions briefly and clearly, and departed from 
 the room without permitting Silas any time to answer. 
 
 The next morning Silas presented himself at the 
 hotel, where he was politely received by Colonel Ger- 
 aldine, and relieved, from that moment, of all imme- 
 diate alarm about his trunk and its grisly contents. 
 The journey passed over without much incident, 
 although the young man was horrified to overhear the 
 sailors and railway porters complaining among them- 
 selves about the unusual weight of the Prince's bag- 
 gage. Silas traveled in a carriage with the valets, for 
 Prince Florizel chose to be alone with his Master of 
 the Horse. On board the steamer, however, Silas 
 attracted his Highness's attention by the melancholy 
 of his air and attitude as he stood gazing at the pile of 
 baggage; for he Avas still full of disquietude about the 
 future. 
 
 " There is a young man," observed the Prince, " who 
 must have some cause for sorrow." 
 
 "That," replied Geraldinc, "is the American for 
 whom I obtained permission to travel with your suite." 
 
 " You remind me that I have been remiss in cour- 
 tesy," said Prince Florizel, and advancing to Silas, he 
 addressed him with the most exquisite condescension 
 in these words, 
 
 " I was charmed, young sir, to be able to gratify the 
 desire you made known to me through Colonel Ger- 
 aldinc. Remember, if you please, that I shall be glad 
 at any future time to lay you under a more serious 
 obligation." 
 
 And then he put some questions as to the political 
 condition of America, which Silas answered with sense 
 and propriety. 
 
 " You are still a young man," said the Prince; "but 
 I observe you to be very serious for your years. Per- 
 haps you allow your attention to be too much occu-
 
 56 NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS, 
 
 with grave studies. But, perhaps, on the othet 
 hand, I am myself indiscreet and tou< h upon a pain- 
 ful subject." 
 
 " 1 have certainly cause to be the most miserable of 
 men," said Silas; "never has a more innocent person 
 been more dismally abused." 
 
 "1 will not ask you for your confidence," returned 
 
 Prince Florizel. "But do not forget that Colonel 
 
 Idine's recommendation is an unfailing passport; 
 
 and that L am not only willing, but possibly more able 
 
 than many others, to do you a servi( 
 
 Silas was delighted with the amiability of this great 
 
 mage; but his mind soon returned upon its gloomy 
 
 preoccupations; for not even the favor of a Prince to 
 
 a Republican can discharge a brooding spirit of its 
 
 cares. 
 
 The train arrived at Charing Cross, where the offi- 
 of the Revenue respected the baggage of I'rince 
 Florizel in the usual manner. The most elegant 
 equipages were in waiting ; and Silas was driven, 
 along with the rest, to the Prince's residence. There 
 Colonel Geraldine sought him out, and expressed him- 
 self pleased to have been of any service to a friend of 
 the physician's, for whom he professed a great consid- 
 eration. 
 
 "I hope," he added, "that you will find none of 
 your porcelain injured. Special orders were given 
 along the line to deal tenderly with the Prince's 
 is." 
 
 And then, directing the servants to place one of the 
 
 carriages at the young gentleman's disposal, and at 
 
 to charge the Saratoga trunk upon the dickey, 
 
 the Colonel shook hands and excused himself on 
 
 lint of his occupations in the princely household. 
 
 Silas now broke the seal of the envelope containing 
 the address, and dire* ted the stately footman to drive 
 him to Pox Court, opening off the Strand. It seemed 
 as if the [dace were not at all unknown to the man, for 
 he looked startled and begged a repetition of the order
 
 THE SUICIDE CLUB. $J 
 
 It Was with a heart full of alarms, that Silas mounted 
 into the luxurious vehicle, and was driven to his des- 
 tination. The entrance to Box Court was too narrow 
 for the passage of a coach ; it was a mere footway 
 between railings, with a post at either end. On one of 
 these posts was seated a man, who at once jumped 
 down and exchanged a friendly sign with the driver, 
 while the footman opened the door and inquired of 
 Silas whether he should take down the Saratoga trunk, 
 and to what number it should be carried. 
 
 " If you please," said Silas. " To number three." 
 
 The footman and the man who had been sitting on 
 the post, even with the aid of Silas himself, had hard 
 work to carry in the trunk ; and before it was depos- 
 ited at the door of the house in question, the young 
 American was horrified to find a score of loiterers 
 looking on. But he knocked with as good a counte- 
 nance as he could muster up, and presented the other 
 envelope to him who opened. 
 
 " He is not at home," said he, "but if you will leave 
 your letter and return to-morrow early, I shall be able 
 to inform you whether and when he can receive your 
 visit. Would you like to leave your box ? " he 
 added. 
 
 " Dearly," cried Silas ; and the next moment he 
 repented his precipitation, and declared, with equal 
 emphasis, that he would rather carry the box along 
 with him to the hotel. 
 
 The crowd jeered at his indecision and followed him 
 to the carriage with insulting remarks ; and Silas, cov- 
 ered with shame and terror, implored the servants to 
 conduct him to some quiet and comfortable house of 
 entertainment in the immediate neighborhood. 
 
 The Prince's equipage deposited Silas at the Craven 
 Hotel in Craven Street, and immediately drove away, 
 leaving him alone with the servants of the inn. The 
 only vacant room, it appeared, was a little den up four 
 pairs of stairs, and looking towards the back. To this 
 hermitage, with infinite trouble and complaint, a pair
 
 58 NEW ARABIAN XI CUTS. 
 
 of stout porters carried the Saratoga trunk. It is 
 needless to mention that Silas kepi closely at their 
 
 heels throughout the ascent, and had his heart in his 
 mouth at every corner. A single false step, he 
 reflected, and the box might go over the bannisters and 
 
 land its fatal contents, plainly discovered, on the pave- 
 ment of the hall. 
 
 Arrived in the room, lie sat down on the edge of his 
 bed to recover from the agony that lie had just endured; 
 but he had hardly taken his position when he was 
 recalled to a sense of his peril by the action of the 
 boots, who had knelt beside the trunk, and was 
 proceeding officiously to undo its elaborate fasten- 
 
 in £ s - 
 
 " Let it be ! " cried Silas. " I shall want nothing 
 
 from it while I stay here." 
 
 " You might have let it lie in the hall, then," growled 
 the man; "a thing as big and heavy as a church. 
 What you have inside, I cannot fancy. If it is all 
 money, you are a richer man than me." 
 
 "Money?" repeated Silas, in a sudden perturba- 
 tion. " \\"hat do you mean by money ? I have no 
 money, and you are speaking like a fool." 
 
 "All right, Captain," retorted the boots with a wink. 
 " There's nobody will touch your lordship's money. 
 I'm as safe as the bank," he added ; ** but as the box 
 is heavy, I shouldn't mind drinking something to your 
 lordship's health." 
 
 Silas pressed two Napoleons upon his acceptance, 
 apologizing, at the same time, for being obliged to 
 trouble him with foreign money, and pleading his 
 recent arrival for excuse. And the man, grumbling 
 with even greater fervor, and looking contemptuously 
 from the money in his hand to the Saratoga trunk and 
 back again from the one to the other, at last consented 
 to withdraw. 
 
 For nearly two days the dead body had been packed 
 into Silas's box ; and as soon as he was alone the 
 unfortunate New-Englander loosed all the cracks and
 
 THE SUICIDE CLUB. 59 
 
 openings with the most passionate attention. But the 
 weather was cool, and the trunk still managed to con- 
 tain his shocking secret. 
 
 He took a chair beside it, and buried his face in his 
 hands, and his mind in the most profound reflection. 
 If he were not speedily relieved, no question but he 
 must be speedily discovered. Alone in a strange city, 
 without friends or accomplices, if the Doctor's intro- 
 duction failed him, he was indubitably a lost New- 
 Englander. He reflected pathetically over his ambi- 
 tious designs for the future ; he should not now become 
 the hero and spokesman of his native place of Bangor, 
 Maine ; he should not, as he had fondly anticipated, 
 move on from office to office, from honor to honor ; he 
 might as well divest himself at once of all hope of being 
 acclaimed President of the United States, and leaving 
 behind him a statue, in the worst possible style of art, 
 to adorn the Capitol at Washington. Here he was, 
 chained to a dead Englishman doubled up inside a 
 Saratoga trunk ; whom he must get rid ot, or perish 
 from the rolls of national glory ! 
 
 I should be afraid to chronicle the language employed 
 by this young man to the Doctor, to the murdered man, 
 to Madame Zephyrine, to the boots of the hotel, to the 
 Prince's servants, and, in a word, to all who had been 
 ever so remotely connected with his horrible misfor- 
 tune. 
 
 He slunk down to dinner about seven at night ; but 
 the yellow coffee-room appalled him, the eyes of the 
 other diners seemed to rest on his with suspicion, and 
 his mind remained upstairs with the Saratoga trunk. 
 "When the waiter came to offer him cheese, his nerves 
 were already so much on edge that he leaped half-way 
 out of his chair and upset the remainder of a pint of 
 ale upon the table-cloth. 
 
 The fellow offered to show him the smoking-room 
 when he had done ; and although he would have much 
 preferred to return at once to his perilous treasure, he 
 had not the courage to refuse, and was shown down-
 
 V ARABIAN MCll is. 
 
 stairs to the black, gas-lit cellar, which formed, and 
 
 I >ly still forms, the divan of the Craven Hotel. 
 
 Two very sail betting men were playing billiards, 
 attended by a moist, consumptive marker; and for 
 the moment Silas imagined that these were the only 
 occupants of the apartment. But at the next glance 
 his eve fell upon a person smoking in the farthest cor- 
 ner, with lowered eyes and a most respectable and 
 mod He knew at onee that he had seen the 
 
 before ; and in spite of the entire change of 
 clothes, recognized the man whom he had found Si 
 on a post at the entrance to Box Court, and who had 
 helped him to carry the trunk to and from the carriage. 
 The N lander simply turned and ran, nor did he 
 
 pause until he had locked and bolted himself into his 
 bedroom. 
 
 There, all night long, a prey to the most terrible 
 imaginations, he watched b ide the fatal boxful of 
 dead flesh. The suggestion of the boots that his trunk 
 was full of gold inspired him with all manner of new 
 terrors, if he so much as dared to close an eye ; and 
 the presence in the smoking-room, and under an obvious 
 disguise, of the loiterer from Box Court convinced him 
 that he was once more the centre of obscure machination. 
 
 Midnight had sounded some time, when, impelled 
 by uneasy suspicions, £ tied his bedroom door 
 
 and peered into the passage. It was dimly illuminated 
 by a single jet of gas ; and some distance off he per- 
 ceived a man sleeping on the floor in the costume of an 
 hotel under-servant. Silas drew near the man on tip- 
 He lay partly on his back, partly on his side, and 
 his r rm concealed his face from recognition. 
 
 Suddenly, while the American was still bending over 
 him, the sleeper removed Ids arm and opened his eyes, 
 and Silas found himself once more face to face with 
 the loiterer of box Court. 
 
 " < rood night, sir," said the man, pleasantly. 
 
 But Silas was too profoundly moved to find an 
 answer, and regained his room in silence.
 
 THE SUICIDE CLUB. 61 
 
 Towards morning, worn out by apprehension, he fell 
 asleep on his chair, with his head forward on the trunk. 
 In spite of so constrained an attitude and such a grisly 
 pillow, his slumber was sound and prolonged, and he 
 was only awakened at a late hour and by a sharp tap- 
 ping at the door. 
 
 He hurried to open, and found the boots without. 
 
 " You are the gentleman who called yesterday at 
 Box Court ? " he asked. 
 
 Silas, with a quaver, admitted that he had done so. 
 
 " Then this note is for you," added the servant, prof- 
 fering a sealed envelope. 
 
 Silas tore it open, and found inside the words : 
 " Twelve o'clock." 
 
 He was punctual to the hour ; the trunk was carried 
 before him by several stout servants ; and he was him- 
 self ushered into a room, where a man sat warming him- 
 self before the fire with his back towards the door. The 
 sound of so many persons entering and leaving, and the 
 scraping of the trunk as it was deposited upon the bare 
 boards, were alike unable to attract the notice of the 
 occupant ; and Silas stood waiting, in an agony of 
 fear, until he should deign to recognize his presence. 
 
 Perhaps five minutes had elapsed before the man 
 turned leisurely about, and disclosed the features of 
 Prince Florizel of Bohemia. 
 
 "So, sir," he said with great severity, "this is the 
 manner in which you abuse my politeness. You join 
 yourselves to persons of condition, I perceive, for no 
 other purpose than to escape the consequences of 
 your crimes ; and I can readily understand your 
 embarrassment when I addressed myself to you yes- 
 terday." 
 
 " Indeed," cried Silas, " I am innocent of everything 
 except misfortune." 
 
 And in a hurried voice, and with the greatest ingen- 
 uousness, he recounted to the Prince the whole history 
 of his calamity. 
 
 "I sec I have been mistaken," said his I Ugliness,
 
 .\7 I/' ARABIAN XI CUTS. 
 
 when he had heard him to an end. " You are no other 
 
 than a victim, and since I am not to punish you, you 
 
 be sure 1 shall do my utmosl t<> help. And now," 
 
 he continued, " to business. Open, your box at once, 
 
 and let me sec what it < ontains." 
 Silas ( hanged color. 
 " I almost fear to look upon it," he exclaimed. 
 
 " Nay, - ' replied the Prime, "have you not looked at 
 it already ? This is a form of sentimentality to be 
 ted. The sight of a sick man, whom we ( an still 
 help, should appeal more directly to the feelings than 
 that of a dead man who is equally beyond help or 
 harm, love or hatred. Nerve yourself, Mr. Scudda- 
 more," and then, seeing that Silas still hesitated, "I 
 do not desire to give another name to my request," he 
 added. 
 
 The young American awoke as if out of a dream, and 
 with a shiver of repugnance addressed himself to loose 
 the straps and open the lock of the Saratoga trunk. 
 The Prince stood by, watching with a composed coun- 
 tenance and his hands behind his hack. The body 
 was quite stiff, and it cost Silas a great effort, both 
 1 and physical, to dislodge it from its position, and 
 >ver the face. 
 
 Prince Florizel started back with an exclamation of 
 painful surprise. 
 
 "Alas!" he cried, "you little know, Mr. Scudda- 
 more, what a cruel gift you have brought me. This is 
 a young man of my own suite, the brother of my 
 trusted friend; and it was upon matters of my own 
 service that he has thus perished at the hands of vio- 
 lent and treacherous men. Poor Geraldine," he went 
 on, as if to himself, "in what words am I to tell you 
 of your brother's fate? How can I excuse myself in 
 your- ■;. •-. i r in the eyes of God, for the presumptuous 
 schemes that led him to this bloody and unnatural 
 death? Ah, Florizel! Florizel! when will you learn 
 the d i that suits mortal life, and be no longer 
 
 dazx' the image of power at your disposal?
 
 THE SUICIDE CLUB. 63 
 
 Power !" he cried ; "who is more powerless? I look 
 upon this young man whom I have sacrificed, Mr. 
 Scuddamore, and feel how small a thing it is to be a 
 Prince." 
 
 Silas was moved at the sight of his emotion. He 
 tried to murmur some consolatory words, and burst 
 into tears. The Prince, touched by his obvious 
 intention, came up to him and took him by the hand. 
 
 "Command yourself," said he. "We have both 
 much to learn, and we shall both be better men for 
 to-day's meeting." 
 
 Silas thanked him in silence with an affectionate 
 look. 
 
 " Write me the address of Doctor Noel on this piece 
 of paper," continued the Prince, leading him towards 
 the table ; " and let me recommend you, when you are 
 again in Paris, to avoid the society of that dangerous 
 man. He has acted in this matter on a generous 
 inspiration ; that I must believe ; had he been privy 
 to young Geraldine's death he would never have 
 despatched the body to the care of the actual crimi- 
 nal." 
 
 " The actual criminal !" repeated Silas in astonish- 
 ment. 
 
 " Even so," returned the Prince. " This letter, 
 which the disposition of Almighty Providence has so 
 strangely delivered into my hands, was addressed to 
 no less a person than the criminal himself, the infamous 
 President of the Suicide Club. Seek to pry no further 
 in these perilous affairs, but content yourself with 
 your own miraculous escape, and leave this house at 
 once. I have pressing affairs, and must arrange at 
 once about this poor clay, which was so lately a gallant 
 and handsome youth." 
 
 Silas took a grateful and submissive leave of Prince 
 Florizel, but he lingered in Box Court until he saw him 
 depart in a splendid carriage on a visit to Colonel Hen- 
 derson of the police. Republican as he was, the young 
 American took off his hat with almost a sentiment of
 
 NEW ARABIA V NIGHTS. 
 
 tion to the retreating carriage. And the same 
 night he started by rail on his return to Paris. 
 
 Here (observes my Arabian Author) is the end of 
 The History 01 the Physician andthe Saratoga 
 Trunk. Omitting some reflections on the power of Prov- 
 Jily pertinent in the original, but little suited to 
 our occidental taste, I shall only mid that Mr. Scuddamore 
 has already begun to mount the ladder of political fame, 
 and by last advices was the Sheriff of his native town.
 
 THE AD VENTURE OF THE HANSOM CAB. 
 
 Lieutenant Brackenbury Rich had greatly distin- 
 guished himself in one of the lesser Indian hill wars. 
 He it was who took the chieftain prisoner with his own 
 hand; his gallantry was universally applauded; and 
 when he came home, prostrated by an ugly sabre cut 
 and a protracted jungle fever, society was prepared to 
 welcome the Lieutenant as a celebrity of minor luster. 
 But his was a character remarkable for unaffected 
 modesty; adventure was dear to his heart, but he cared 
 little for adulation; and he waited at foreign watering- 
 places and in Algiers until the fame of his exploits 
 had run through it's nine day's vitality and begun to 
 be forgotten. He arrived in London at last, in the 
 early season, with as little observation as he could desire; 
 and as he was an orphan and had none but distant 
 relatives who lived in the provinces, it was almost 
 as a foreigner that he installed himself in the capital 
 of the country for which he had shed his blood. 
 
 On the day following his arrival he dined alone at a 
 military club. He shook hands with a few old com- 
 rades, and received their congratulations; but as one 
 and all had some engagement for the evening, he found 
 himself left entirely to his own resources. He was in 
 dress, for he had entertained the notion of visiting a 
 theater. But the great city was new to him; he had 
 gone from a provincial school to a military college, 
 and thence direct to the Eastern Empire; and he 
 promised himself a variety of delights in this world 
 for exploration. Swinging his cane, he took his way 
 westward. It was a mild evening, already dark, and 
 now and then threatening rain. The succession of 
 faces in the lamplight stirred the Lieutenant's imagin- 
 ation; and it seemed to him as if he could walk forever 
 65
 
 .-. W ARABIAN NIGHTS 
 
 in that stimulating city atmosphere and surrounded by 
 the mystery of lour million private lives. He giant ea 
 at the houses, and marvelled w passing behind 
 
 those warmly-lighted windows; he looked into i'.u-c 
 
 after face, and saw them eai h intent upon some 
 unknown interest, criminal or kindly. 
 
 "They talk of war," he thought, " but this is the 
 great battlefield of mankind." 
 
 And then he began to wonder that he should walk 
 so long in this complicated scene, and not chance upon 
 so much as the shadow of an adventure for himself. 
 
 "All in good time," he reflected. "I am still a 
 stranger, and perhaps wear a strange air. But I must 
 be drawn into the eddy before long." 
 
 The night was already well advanced, when a plump 
 of cold rain fell suddenly out of the darkness. 
 Brackenbury paused under some trees, and as he did 
 so he caught sight of a hansom cabman making him 
 a sign that he was disengaged. The circumstance fell 
 in so happily to the occasion that he at once raised his 
 cane in answer, and had soon ensconced himself in the 
 London gondola. 
 
 " Where to, sir ? " asked the driver. 
 
 " Where you please," said Brackenbury. 
 
 And immediately, at a pace of surprising swiftness, 
 the hansom drove off through the rain into a maze of 
 villas. One villa was so like another, each with its 
 front garden, and there was so little to distinguish the 
 deserted lamp-lit streets and crescents through which 
 the flying hansom took its way, that Brackenbury soon 
 lost all idea of direction. He would have been con- 
 tented to believe that the cabman was amusing himself 
 by driving him round and round and in and out about 
 a small quarter, but there was something businesslike 
 in the speed whi< h convinced him of the contrary. 
 The man had an object in view, he was hastening tow- 
 ards a definite end; and Brackenbury was at once 
 astonished at the fellow's skill in picking a way through 
 such a labyrinth, and a little concerned to imagine
 
 THE SUICIDE CLUB. 67 
 
 what was the occasion of his hurry. He had heard 
 tales ot strangers falling ill in London. Did the driver 
 belong to some bloody and treacherous association ? and 
 was he himself being whirled to a murderous death ? 
 
 The thought had scarcely presented itself, when the 
 cab swung sharply round a corner and pulled up before 
 the garden gate of a villa in a long and wide road. 
 The house was brilliantly lighted up. Another hansom 
 had just driven away, and Brackenbury could see a 
 gentleman being admitted at the front door and 
 received by several liveried servants. He was sur- 
 prised that the cabman should have stopped so imme- 
 diately in front of a house where a reception was being 
 held; but he did not doubt it was the result of acci- 
 dent, and sat placidly smoking where he was, until he 
 heard the trap thrown open over his head. 
 
 " Here we are, sir," said the driver. 
 
 " Here; " repeated Brackenbury. " Where ? " 
 
 " You told me to take you where I pleased, sir/' 
 returned the man with a chuckle, " and here we are." 
 
 It struck Brackenbury that the voice was wonder- 
 fully smooth and courteous for a man in so inferior a 
 position; he remembered the speed at which he had 
 been driven; and now it occurred to him that the han- 
 som was more luxuriously appointed than the common 
 run of public conveyances. 
 
 " I must ask you to explain," said he. " Do you 
 mean to turn me out into the rain? My good man, I 
 suspect the choice is mine." 
 
 "The choice is certainly yours," replied the driver; 
 "but when I tell you all, I believe I know how a gen- 
 tleman of your figure will decide. There is a gentle- 
 men's party in this house. I do not know whether the 
 master be a stranger to London and without acquaint- 
 ances of his own; or whether he is a man of odd 
 notions. But certainly 1 was hired to kidnap single 
 gentlemen in evening dress, as many as I pleased, but 
 military officers by preference. You have simply to 
 go in and say that Mr. Morris invited you."
 
 6S / HTS. 
 
 "Arc you Mr. Morris?" inquired the Lieutenant. 
 " ( >h, no," replied the cabman. " Mr. Morris is the 
 : the hou 
 
 " It is Dot .1 < < ininon way of collecting guests," said 
 
 kenbury; "but an eo entric man might very well 
 
 indulge the whim without any intention to offend. 
 
 And suppose that I refuse Mr. Morris's invitation," he 
 
 went en, "what then ? " 
 
 " My ciders are to drive you back where I took you 
 from," replied the man, "'and set out to look for others 
 up to midnight. Those who have no fancy for such 
 an adventure, Mr. Morris said, were not the guests for 
 him." 
 
 These words decided the Lieutenant on the spot. 
 
 "After all," he reflected, as he descended from the 
 hansom, ' I have not had long to wait for my adven- 
 ture." 
 
 He had hardly found footing on the side-walk, and 
 was still feeling in his pocket for the fare, when the 
 cab swung about and drove off by the way it came at 
 the former break-neck velocity. Brackenbury shouted 
 after the man, who paid no heed, and continued to 
 drive away; but the sound of his voice was overheard 
 in the house, the door was again thrown open, emitting 
 a flood of light upon the garden, and a servant ran 
 down to meet him holding an umbrella. 
 
 " The cabman has been paid," observed the servant 
 in a very civil tone; and he proceeded to escort 
 kenbury along the path and up the steps. In the 
 hall several other attendants relieved him of his hat, 
 cane, and paletot, gave him a ticket with a number in 
 return, and politely hurried him up a stair adorned 
 with tropical flowers, to the door of an apartment on 
 the first story. Here a grave butler inquired his 
 name, and announcing " Lieutenant Brackenbury 
 Ri< h," ushered him into the drawing-room of the 
 hoi; 
 
 A young man, slender and singularly handsome, 
 came forward and greeted him with an air at tJ.ce
 
 THE SUICIDE CLUB. 69 
 
 courtly and affectionate. Hundreds of candles, of the 
 finest wax, lit up a room that was perfumed, like the 
 staircase, with a profusion of rare and beautiful flow- 
 ering shrubs. A side-table was loaded with tempting 
 viands. Several servants went to and fro with fruits 
 and goblets of champagne. The company was per- 
 haps sixteen in number, all men, few beyond the prime 
 of life, and with hardly an exception, of a dashing and 
 capable exterior. They were divided into two groups, 
 one about a roulette board, and the other surrounding 
 a table at which one of their number held a bank of 
 baccarat. 
 
 " I see," thought Brackenbury, "I am in a private 
 gambling saloon, and the cabman was a tout." 
 
 His eye had embraced the details, and his mind 
 formed the conclusion, while his host was still holding 
 him by the hand; and to him his looks returned from 
 this rapid survey. At a second view Mr. Morris sur- 
 prised him still more than on the first. The easy 
 elegance of his manners, the distinction, amiability, 
 and courage that appeared upon his features, fitted 
 very ill with the Lieutenant's preconceptions on the 
 subject of the proprietor of a hell; and the tone of his 
 conversation seemed to mark him out for a man of 
 position and merit. Brackenbury found he had an 
 instinctive liking for his entertainer; and though he 
 chid himself for the weakness he was unable to resist a 
 sort of friendly attraction for Mr. Morris's person and 
 character. 
 
 " I have heard of you, Lieutenant Rich," said Mr. 
 Morris, lowering his tone; ''and believe me I am grati- 
 fied to make your acquaintance. Your looks accord 
 with the reputation that has preceded you from India. 
 And if you will forget for a while the irregularity of 
 your presentation in my house, I shall feel it not only 
 an honor, but genuine pleasure besides. A man who 
 makes a mouthful of barbarian cavaliers," he added 
 with a laugh, " should not be appalled by a breach of 
 etiquette, however serious."
 
 ;o W ARABIAN A IGIITS. 
 
 And he led him towards the sideboard and pressed 
 him to partake of some refreshments. 
 
 "Upon my word," the Lieutenant reflected, "this is 
 of the pleasantest fellows and, I do not doubt, one 
 e most agreeable societies in London." 
 
 He partook of some champagne, which he found 
 '.lent; and observing that many of the company 
 were already smoking, he lit one of his own Manillas, 
 and strolled up to the roulette board, where he some- 
 times made a stake and sometimes looked on smilingly 
 On the fortune of others. It was while he was thus 
 idling that he became aware of a sharp scrutiny to 
 which the whole of the guests were subjected. Mr. 
 Mortis went here and there, ostensibly busied on hos- 
 pitable concerns; but he had ever a shrewd glance at 
 disposal; not a man of the party escaped his sudden, 
 searching looks; he took stock of the bearing of heavy 
 losers, he valued the amount of the stakes, he paused 
 behind couples who were deep in conversation; and, in 
 a word, there was hardly a characteristic of anyone 
 present b if he seemed to catch and make a note of it. 
 Brackenbury began to wonder if this were indeed a 
 gambling hell: it had so much the air of a private 
 inquisition. He followed Mr. Morris in all his move- 
 ments; and although the man had a ready smile, he 
 seemed to perceive, as it were under a mask, a haggard, 
 careworn, ami preoccupied spirit. The fellows around 
 him laughed and made their game; but brackenbury 
 had lost interest in the gin 
 
 " This Morris," thought he, " is no idler in the room. 
 Some deep purpose inspires him; let it be mine to 
 fathom it." 
 
 Now and then Mr. Moiris would call one of his 
 visitors aside; and after a brief colloquy in an ante- 
 room, he would return alone, and the visitors in ques- 
 tion reappeared no more. After a certain number of 
 repetitions, this performance excited Brackenbury'a 
 curiosity to a high degree. He determined to be at 
 the bottom of this minor mystery at once; and strolling
 
 THE SUICIDE CLUB. 71 
 
 into the ante-room, found a deep window recess con- 
 cealed by curtains of the fashionable green. Here he 
 hurriedly ensconced himself; nor had he to wait long 
 before the sound of steps and voices drew near him 
 from the principal apartment. Peering through the 
 division, he saw Mr. Morris escorting a fat and ruddy 
 personage, with somewhat the look of a commercial 
 traveler, whom Brackenbury had already remarked for 
 his coarse laugh and under-bred behavior at the table. 
 The pair halted immediately before the window, so that 
 Brackenbury lost not a word of the following dis- 
 course: — ■ 
 
 " I beg you a thousand pardons ! " began Mr. Morris, 
 with the most conciliatory manner; "and, if I appear 
 rude, I am sure you will readily forgive me. In a 
 place so great as London accidents must continually 
 happen; and the best that we can hope is to remedy 
 them with as small delay as possible. I will not deny 
 that I fear you have made a mistake and honored my 
 poor house by inadvertence; for, to speak openly, I 
 cannot at all remember your appearance. Let me put 
 the question without unnecessary circumlocution — 
 between gentlemen of honor a word will suffice — 
 Under whose roof do you suppose yourself to be ? " 
 
 " That of Mr. Morris," replied the other, with a 
 prodigious display of confusion, which had been visibly 
 growing upon him throughout the last few words. 
 
 "Mr. John or Mr. James Morris?" inquired the 
 host. 
 
 " I really cannot tell you," returned the unfortunate 
 guest. "I am not personally acquainted with the 
 gentlemen, anymore than I am with yourself." 
 
 "I see," said Mr. Morris. "There is another per- 
 son of the same name farther down the street; and I 
 have no doubt the policeman will be able to supply 
 you with his number. Believe me, I felicitate myself 
 on the misunderstanding which has procured me the 
 pleasure of your company for so long; and let me 
 express a hope that we may meet again upon a more
 
 ;: W ARABIAN A tC/ITS. 
 
 re Meantime, I would not for the 
 
 world detain j from your friends. John," 
 
 he added, raising his voice, "will you sec that the 
 gentleman funis his great-coat?" 
 
 Ami with the mo ibleair Mr. Morris escorted 
 
 his visitor as far as the ante-room door, where he left 
 him under conduct of the butler. As he passed the 
 window, on his return to the drawing-room, Bracken- 
 bury could hear him utter a profound sigh, as though 
 his mind was loaded with a great anxiety, and his nerves 
 already fatigued with the task on which he was 
 
 For perhaps an hour the hansoms kept arriving with 
 such frequency, that Mr. Morris had to receive a new 
 guest for every old one that lie sent away, and the com- 
 pany preserved its number undiminished. But towards 
 the end of that time the. arrivals grew few and far be- 
 tween, and at length ceased entirely, while the process of 
 elimination was continued with unimpaired activity. 
 The drawing-room began to look empty : the baccarat 
 discontinu ck of a banker ; more than one 
 
 person said good-night of his own accord, and was 
 suffered to depart without expostulation: and in the 
 meanwhil rris redoubled in agreeable attentions 
 
 to those who stayed behind. He went from group to 
 group and from person to person with looks of the 
 reach - ithy and the most pertinent and pleasing 
 
 talk ; he was not so much like a host as like a hostess, 
 and there was a feminine coquetry and condescension 
 in his manner which charmed the hearts of all. 
 
 the guests grew thinner, Lieutenant Rich strolled 
 for a moment out of the drawing-room into the hall in 
 quest of fresher air. But he had no sooner passed the 
 threshold of the ante-chamber than he was brought to 
 a dead halt by a discovery of the most surprising 
 nature. The flowering shrubs had disappeared from 
 the staircase ; three large furniture wagons stood 
 before the garden gate ; the servants were busy dismant- 
 ling the house upon all sides ; and some of them had
 
 THE SUICIDE CLUB. 73 
 
 already donned their great-coats and were preparing to 
 depart. It was like the end of a country ball, where 
 everything has been supplied by contract. Brackenbury 
 had indeed some matter for reflection. First, the guests, 
 who were no real guests after all, had been dismissed ; 
 and now the servants, who could hardly be genuine 
 servants, were actively dispersing. 
 
 " Was the whole establishment a sham ? " he asked 
 himself. " The mushroom of a single night which 
 should disappear before morning ? " 
 
 Watching a favorable opportunity, Brackenbury 
 dashed upstairs to the higher regions of the house. It 
 was as he had expected. He ran from room to room, 
 and saw not a stick of furniture nor so much as a pic* 
 ture on the walls. Although the house had been painted 
 and papered, it was not only uninhabited at present, but 
 plainly had never been inhabited at all. The young 
 officer remembered with astonishment its specious, 
 settled, and hospitable air on his arrival. It was only 
 at a prodigious cost that the imposture could have been 
 carried out upon so great a scale. 
 
 Who, then, was Mr. Morris ? What was his intention 
 in thus playing the householder for a single night in 
 the remote west of London ? And why did he collect 
 his visitors at hazard from the streets ? 
 
 Brackenbury remembered that he had already 
 delayed too long, and hastened to join the company. 
 Many had left during his absence ; and counting the 
 Lieutenant and his host, there were not more than five 
 persons in the drawing-room — recently so thronged. 
 Mr. Morris greeted him, as he re-entered the apartment, 
 with a smile, and immediately rose to his feet. 
 
 ''It is now time, gentlemen," said he, " to explain 
 my purpose in decoying you from your amusements. I 
 trust you did not find the evening hang very dully on 
 your hands ; but my object, I will confess it, was not 
 to entertain your leisure, but to help myself in an unfor- 
 tunate necessity. You are all gentlemen," he continued, 
 " your appearance does you that much justice, and I
 
 74 NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 ask for n irity. H .1 speak it without 
 
 you to render me a dangerous and 
 dangerous because you may run the 
 .1 delicate be< ..use 1 must ask 
 • tion upon all that you shall sec or 
 From an utter stranger the request is almost 
 . extravagant ; I am well aware of this ; and 
 I would add at once, if there be anyone present who 
 sard enough, if there be one among the party who 
 from a dangerous confidence and a piece of 
 Quixotic devotion to he knows not whom — here is my 
 hand ready, and I shall wish him good-night and God- 
 speed, with all the sincerity in the world." 
 
 A very tall, black man, with a heavy stoop, immedi- 
 ately responded to this appeal. 
 
 " I commend your frankness, sir," said he ; " and, 
 for my part, I go. I make no reflections ; but I can- 
 not deny that \ou fill me with suspicious thoughts. I 
 go myself, as I say ; and perhaps you will think I have 
 no right to add words to my example." 
 
 "On the contrary," replied Mr. Morris, "I am 
 ■ i you for all you say. It would be impossible 
 to exaggerate the gravity of my proposal." 
 
 "Well, gentlemen, what do you say?" said the tall 
 man, addressing the others. "We have had our even- 
 ing's frolic; shall we go homeward peaceably in a body ? 
 You will think well of my suggestion in the morning, 
 when you see the sun again in innocence and safety." 
 
 The speaker pronounced the last words with an 
 intonation which added to their force; and his face wore 
 a singular expression, full of gravity and significance. 
 Another of the company rose hastily, and, with some 
 appearance of alarm, prepared to take his leave. There 
 were only two who held their ground, Brackenbury 
 and an old red-nosed cavalry Major; but these two 
 rved a nonchalant ck mennor, and, beyond a look 
 of intelligence which they rapidly exchanged, appeared 
 entirely foreign to the discussion that had just been 
 terminated.
 
 THE SUICIDE CLUB. 75 
 
 Mr. Morris conducted the deserters as far as the 
 door, which he closed upon their heels ; then he turned 
 round disclosing a countenance of mingled relief and 
 animation, and addressed the two officers as follows : 
 
 " I have chosen my men like Joshua in the Bible," 
 said Mr. Morris, " and I now believe I have the pick 
 of London. Your appearance pleased my hansom 
 cabmen ; then it delighted me ; I have watched your 
 behavior in a strange company, and under the most 
 unusual circumstances : I have studied how you played 
 and how you bore your losses ; lastly, I have put you 
 to the test of a staggering announcement, and you 
 received it like an invitation to dinner. It is not for 
 nothing," he cried, " that I have been for years the 
 companion and the pupil of the bravest and wisest 
 potentate in Europe." 
 
 " At the affair of Bunderchang," observed the Major. 
 " I asked for twelve volunteers, and every trooper in 
 the ranks replied to my appeal. But a gaming party 
 is not the same thing as a regiment under fire. You 
 may be pleased, I suppose, to have found two, and 
 two who will not fail you at a push. As for the pair 
 who ran away, I count them among the most pitiful 
 hounds I ever met with. Lieutenant Rich," he added, 
 addressing Brackenbury, " I have heard much of you 
 of late ; and I cannot doubt but you have also heard 
 of me. I am Major O'Rooke." 
 
 And the veteran tendered his hand, which was red 
 and tremulous, to the young Lieutenant. 
 
 "Who has not?" answered Brackenbury. 
 
 " When this little matter is settled," said Mr. Morris, 
 " you will think I have sufficiently rewarded you ; for 
 I could offer neither a more valuable service than to 
 make him acquainted with the other." 
 
 "And now," said Major O'Rooke, " is it a duel ?" 
 
 "A duel after a fashion," replied Mr. Morris, "a 
 duel with unknown and dangerous enemies, and, as I 
 gravely fear, a duel to the death. I must ask you," he 
 continued, "to call me Morris no longer; call me, if
 
 76 \RABTAN NIGHTS. 
 
 mith; ray 11 as 
 
 that of anoth to whom I hope t<> present you 
 
 ou will gratify me by not asking and not 
 seek. . Three d 
 
 the person of whom I speak < ired suddenly from 
 
 homo; and, until this morning, 1 received no hint of 
 his situation. You will fancy my alarm when I tell 
 that he is engaged upon a work of private justi< e. 
 nd by an unhappy oath, too lightly sworn, lie finds 
 it necessary, without the help of law, to rid the earth 
 of an insidious and bloody villain. Already two of 
 our friends, and one of them my own born brother, 
 have perished in the enterprise. He himself, or J am 
 much deceived, is taken in the same fatal toils. But 
 at least he still lives and still hopes, as this billet 
 sufficiently proves." 
 
 And the speaker, no other than Colonel Geraldine, 
 proffered a letter, thus conceived: — 
 
 " Major Hammersmith, — On Wednesday, at 3 a. m., 
 you will be admitted by the small door to the gardens 
 of Rochester House, Regent's 1'ark, by a man who is 
 entirely in my interest. I must request you not to fail 
 me by a second. Pray bring my case of swords, and, 
 if you can find them, one or two gentlemen of conduct 
 and discretion to whom my person is unknown. My 
 name must not be used in this affair. 
 
 T. Godall. 
 
 "From his wisdom alone, if he had no other title," 
 pursued Colonel Geraldine, when the others had each 
 satisfied his curiosity, " my friend is a man whose 
 directions should implicitly be followed. I need not 
 tell you, therefore, that I have not so much as visited 
 the neighborhood of Rochester House ; and that I am 
 still as wholly in the dark as either of yourselves as to 
 the nature of my friend's dilemma. I betook myself, 
 as soon as I had received this order, to a furnishing 
 contractor, and, in a few hours, the house in which we 
 now are had assumed its late air of festival. My 
 scheme was at least original ; and I am far from
 
 THE SUICIDE CLUB. 77 
 
 regretting an action which has procured me the services 
 of Major O'Rooke and Lieutenant Brackenbury Rich. 
 But the servants in the street will have a strange 
 awakening. The house which this evening was full 
 of lights and visitors they will find uninhabited and for 
 sale to-morrow morning. Thus even the most serious 
 concerns," added the Colonel, " have a merry side." 
 
 " And let us add a merry ending," said Bracken- 
 bury. 
 
 The Colonel consulted his watch. 
 
 " It is now hard on two,''" he said. " We have ah hour 
 before us, and a swift cab is at the door. Tell me if 
 I may count upon your help." 
 
 " During a long life," replied Major O'Rooke, "I 
 never took back my hand from anything, nor so much 
 as hedged a bet." 
 
 Brackenbury signified his readiness in the most 
 becoming terms; and after they had drunk a glass or 
 two of wine, the Colonel gave each of them a loaded 
 revolver, and the three mounted into the cab and drove 
 off for the address in question. 
 
 Rochester House was a magnificent residence on the 
 banks of the canal. The large extent of the garden 
 isolated it in an unusual degree from the annoyances of 
 neighborhood. It seemed the pare aux cerfs of some 
 great nobleman or millionaire. As far as could be 
 seen from the street, there was not a glimmer of light 
 in any of the numerous windows of the mansion ; and 
 the place had a look of neglect, as though the master 
 had been long from home. 
 
 The cab was discharged, and the three gentlemen 
 were not long in discovering the small door, which was 
 a sort of postern in a lane between two garden walls. 
 It still wanted ten or fifteen minutes of the appointed 
 time; the rain fell heavily, and the adventurers sheltered 
 themselves below some pendent ivy, and spoke in low 
 tones of the approaching trial. 
 
 Suddenly Geraldinc raised his finger to command 
 silence, and all three bent their hearing to the utmost.
 
 78 NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS 
 
 Through the continuous noise of the rain, the steps and 
 
 - of two men became audible from the other 
 of the wall ; and, as they drew nearer, Brackenbury, 
 whose sense of hearing was remarkably acute, could 
 even distinguish some fragments of their talk. 
 1 s the grave dug ? " asked one. 
 
 " It is," replied the other ; " behind the laurel hedge, 
 U :i the jo!) is done, we can cover it with a pile of 
 stak< 
 
 The first speaker laughed, and the sound of his 
 merriment was shocking to the listeners on the other 
 
 side. 
 
 " In an hour from now," lie said. 
 
 And by the sound of the steps it was obvious that 
 the pair had separated, and were proceeding in contrary 
 direi tions. 
 
 Almost immediately after the postern door was 
 cautiously opened, a white face was protruded into the 
 lane, and a hand was seen beckoning to the watchers. 
 In dead silence the three passed the door, which was 
 immediately locked behind them, and followed their 
 guide through several garden alleys to the kitchen 
 entrance of the house. A single candle burned in the 
 great paved kitchen, which was destitute of the custom- 
 ary furniture ; and as the party proceeded to ascend 
 from thence by a flight of winding stairs, a prodigious 
 noise of rats testified still more plainly to the dilapida- 
 tion of the house. 
 
 Their conductor preceded them, carrying the candle. 
 He was a lean man, much bent, but still agile ; and he 
 turned from time to time and admonished silence and 
 caution by his gestures. Colonel Geraldine followed 
 on his heels, the case of swords under one arm, and a 
 pistol ready in the other. Brackenbury's heart beat 
 thickly. He perceived that they were still in time; but 
 he judged from the alacrity of the old man that the 
 hour of action must be near at hand; the circumstances 
 of this adventure were so obscure and menacing, the 
 place seemed so well chosen f or the darkest acts, that
 
 THE SUICIDE CLUB. 79 
 
 an older man than Brackenbury .might have been par- 
 doned a measure of emotion as he closed the procession 
 up the winding stair. 
 
 At the top the guide threw open a door and ushered 
 the three officers before him into a small apartment, 
 lighted by a smoky lamp and the glow of a modest fire. 
 At the chimney corner sat a man in the early prime of 
 life, and of a stout but courtly and commanding 
 appearance. His attitude and expression were those of 
 the most unmoved composure ; he was smoking a 
 cheroot with much enjoyment and deliberation, and on 
 a table by his elbow stood a long glass of some effer- 
 vescing beverage which diffused an agreeable odor 
 through the room. 
 
 "Welcome," said he, extending his hand to Colonel 
 Geraldine. " I knew I might count on your exact- 
 itude." 
 
 " On my devotion," replied the Colonel, with a bow. 
 
 " Present me to your friends," continued the first ; 
 and, when that ceremony had been performed, " I wish, 
 gentlemen," he added, with the most exquisite affability, 
 " that I could offer you a more cheerful programme ; 
 it is ungracious to inaugurate an acquaintance upon 
 serious affairs ; but the compulsion of events is 
 stronger than the obligations of good-fellowship. I 
 hope and believe you will be able to forgive me this 
 unpleasant evening ; and for men of your stamp it will 
 be enough to know that you are conferring a consider- 
 able favor." 
 
 " Your Highness," said the Major, " must pardon my 
 bluntness. I am unable to hide what I know. For 
 some time back I have suspected Major Hammersmith, 
 but Mr. Godall is unmistakable. To seek two men in 
 London unacquainted with Prince Florizel of Bohemia 
 was to ask too much at Fortune's hands." 
 
 " Prince Florizel !" cried Brackenbury in amaze- 
 ment. 
 
 And he gazed with the deepest interest on the fea- 
 tures of the celebrated personage before him.
 
 So V ARABIAN XI CI ITS. 
 
 " I shall not lament the loss of my incognito," 
 remarked the Prince, "for it enables me t<> thank you 
 with the more authority. You would have done as 
 much for Mr. Godall, I feel sure, as for the Prince of 
 Bohemia ; but the latter can perhaps do more for you. 
 The gain is mine," he added, with a courteous 
 tu re. 
 
 And the next moment he was conversing with the 
 two bout the Indian army and the native 
 
 troops, a subject on which, as on all others, he had a 
 remarkable fund of information and the soundest 
 views. 
 
 There was something so striking in this man's atti- 
 tude at a moment of deadly peril that Brackenbury 
 was overcome with respectful admiration ; nor was he 
 sensible to the charm of his conversation or the 
 surprising amenity of his address. Every gesture, 
 every intonation, was not only noble in itself, but 
 seemed to ennoble the fortunate mortal for whom it 
 intended ; and Brackenbury confessed to himself 
 with enthusiasm that this was a sovereign for whom a 
 brave man might thankfully lay down his life. 
 
 Many minutes had thus passed, when the person who 
 had introduced them into the house, and who had sat 
 ever since in a corner, and with his watch in his hand, 
 arose and whispered a word into the Prince's ear. 
 
 "It is well, Dr. Noel," replied Florizel, aloud: and 
 then addressing the others, " You will excuse me, 
 gentlemen," he added, "«if I have to leave you in the 
 dark. The moment now approaches." 
 
 I)r. Noel extinguished the lamp. A faint, gray light, 
 premonitory of the dawn, illuminated the window, but 
 ufficient to illuminate the room ; and when the 
 Prince rose to his feet, it was impossible to distinguish 
 • atures or to make a guess at the nature of the 
 emotion which obviously affected him as he spoke. He 
 moved towards the door, and placed himself atone side 
 of it in an attitude of the wariest attention. 
 
 " You will have the kindness," he said, "to maintain
 
 THE SUICIDE CLUB. 81 
 
 the strictest silence, and to conceal yourselves in the 
 densest of the shadow." 
 
 The three officers and the physician hastened to 
 obey, and for nearly ten minutes the only sound in 
 Rochester House was occasioned by the excursions of 
 the rats behind the woodwork. At the end of that 
 period, a loud creak of a hinge broke in with surprising 
 distinctness on the silence ; and shortly after, the 
 watchers could distinguish a slow and cautious tread 
 approaching up the kitchen stair. At every second 
 step the intruder seemed to pause and lend an ear, and 
 during these intervals, which seemed of an incalculable 
 duration, a profound disquiet possessed the spirit of 
 the listeners. Dr. Noel, accustomed as he was to 
 dangerous emotions, suffered an almost pitiful physical 
 prostration ; his breath whistled in his lungs, his teeth 
 grated one upon another, and his joints cracked aloud 
 as he nervously shifted his position. 
 
 At last a hand was laid upon the door, and the bolt 
 shot back with a slight report. There followed another 
 pause, during which Brackenbury could see the Prince 
 draw himself together noiselessly as if for some unusual 
 exertion. Then the door opened, letting in a little 
 more of the light of the morning ; and the figure of a 
 man appeared upon the threshold and stood motionless. 
 He was tall, and carried a knife in his hand. Even in 
 the twilight they could see his upper teeth bare and 
 glistening, for his mouth was open like that of a hound 
 about to leap. The man had evidently been over the 
 head in water but a minute or two before ; and even 
 while he stood there the drops kept falling from his 
 wet clothes and pattered on the floor. 
 
 The next moment he crossed the threshold. There 
 was a leap, a stifled cry, an instantaneous struggle ; and 
 before Colonel Geraldine could spring to his aid, the 
 Prince held the man, disarmed and helpless, by the 
 shoulders. 
 
 " Dr. Noel," he said, " you will be so good as to 
 relight the lamp "
 
 . /.\ NIGHTS. 
 
 And relinquishing the charge of his prisoner to Ger« 
 
 aldine and Brackenbury, he i rossed the room and set 
 
 ick against til.' chimney-piece. As soon as the 
 
 lamp had kindled, the party beheld an unaccustomed 
 sternness on the Prince's features. It was no longer 
 Florizel, the careless gentleman : it was the Prince of 
 mia, justly incensed and full of deadly purpose, 
 who now raised his head and addressed the Captive 
 Pi ident of the Suicide Club. 
 
 '* President," he said, " you have laid your last 
 snare, and your own feet are taken in it. The day is 
 beginning; it i^ your last morning. You have just 
 swum the Regent's Canal ; it is your last bathe in this 
 world. Your old accomplice, Dr. Noel, so far from 
 betraying me, has delivered you into my hands for 
 judgment. And the grave you had dug for me this 
 afternoon shall serve, in God's almighty providence, to 
 hide your own just doom from the curiosity of man- 
 kind. Kneel and pray, sir, if you have a mind that 
 way ; for your time is short, and God is weary of your 
 iniquities." 
 
 The President made no answer either by word or 
 sign ; but continued to hang his head and gaze sul- 
 lenly on the floor, as though he were conscious of the 
 Prince's prolonged and unsparing regard. 
 
 " Gentlemen," continued Florizel, resuming the ordi- 
 nary tone of his conversation, " this is a fellow who 
 has long eluded me, but whom, thanks to Dr. Noel, I 
 now have tightly by the heels. To tell the story of his 
 misdeeds would occupy more time than we can now 
 afford ; but if the canal had contained nothing but the 
 blood of his victims, I believe the wretch would have 
 been no drier than you see him. Even in an affair of 
 this sort I desire to preserve the forms of honor. But 
 I make you the judges, gentlemen — this is more an 
 execution than a duel ; and to give the rogue his 
 choice of weapons would be to push too far a point of 
 etiquette. I cannot afford to lose my life in such a 
 business," he continued, unlocking the case of swords;
 
 THE SUICIDE CLUB. 83 
 
 ''and as a pistol-bullet travels so often on the wings 
 of chance, and skill and courage may fall by the most 
 trembling marksman, I have decided, and I feel sure 
 you will approve my determination, to put this ques- 
 tion to the touch of swords." 
 
 When Brackenbury and Major O'Rooke, to whom 
 these remarks were particularly addressed, had each 
 intimated his approval, 'Quick, sir,'' added Prince 
 Florizel to the President, " choose a blade and do not 
 keep me waiting; I have an impatience to be done 
 with you for ever." 
 
 For the first time since he was captured and dis- 
 armed the President raised his head, and it was plain 
 that he began instantly to pluck up courage." 
 
 "Is it to be stand up?" he asked eagerly, " and 
 between you and me ? " 
 
 " I mean so far to honor you," replied the Prince. 
 
 " Oh, come ! " cried the President. " With a fair 
 field, who knows how things may happen ? I must 
 add that I consider it handsome behavior on your 
 Highness's part ; and if the worst comes to the worst I 
 shall die by one of the most gallant gentlemen in 
 Europe ? " 
 
 And the President, liberated by those who had 
 detained him, stepped up to the table and began, with 
 minute attention, to select a sword. He was highly 
 elated, and seemed to feel no doubt that he should 
 issue victorious from the contest. The spectators grew 
 alarmed in the face of so entire a confidence, and 
 adjured Prince Florizel to reconsider his intention. 
 
 " It is but a farce," he answered ; "and I think I 
 can promise you, gentlemen, that it will not be long 
 a-playing." 
 
 " Your Highness will be careful not to overreach," 
 said Colonel Geraldine. 
 
 "Geraldine," returned the Prince, "did you ever 
 know me fail in a debt of honor ? I owe you this 
 man's death, and you shall have it." 
 
 The President at last satisfied himself with one of
 
 84 V ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 the rapiers, and signified his readiness by a gesture 
 that was not devoi ide nobility. The 
 
 ril, and the sense of coui t en to th 
 
 villain, lent an air of manhood and a certain grace. 
 
 The Prince helped himself .it random to a sword. 
 
 "Colonel Geraldine and Doctor Nod," he said," will 
 have the good iwait me in this room. I wish 
 
 no personal friend of mine to be involved in this trans- 
 ■n. Major () ill are a man of some years 
 
 and a settled reputation — let me recommend the Presi- 
 dent to your good graces. Lieutenant Rich will be so 
 I as to lend me his attentions: a young man can- 
 not have too much experience in such affairs. 
 
 "Your Highness," replied Brackenbury, " it is an 
 honor I shall prize extremely." 
 
 "It is well," returned Prince Florizel; "I shall 
 to stand your friend in more important circum- 
 stan< 
 
 And so saying he led the way out of the apartment 
 and down the kitchen stairs. 
 
 The two men who were thus left alone threw open 
 the window and leaned out, straining every sense to 
 catch an indication of the tragical events that were 
 about to follow. The rain was now over; day had almost 
 come, and the birds were piping in the shrubbery and 
 on the forest trees of the garden. The Prince and his 
 companions were visible for a moment as they followed 
 an alley between two flowering thickets; but at the first 
 corner a clump of foliage intervened, and theywere again 
 concealed from view. This was all that the Colonel 
 and the physician had an opportunity to see, and the 
 garden was so vast, and the place of combat evidently 
 mote from the house that not even the noise of 
 sword-play reached their ears. 
 
 "He has taken him towards the grave," said Dr. 
 I, with a shudder. 
 
 " God," cried the Colonel, " Cod defend the right !" 
 
 And they awaited the event in silence, the Doctor 
 shaking with fear, the Colonel in an agony of sweat.
 
 THE SUICIDE CLUB. 85 
 
 Many minutes must have elapsed, the day was sensibly 
 broader, and the birds were singing more heartily in 
 the garden before a sound of returning footsteps 
 recalled their glances towards the door. It was the 
 Prince and the two Indian officers who entered. God 
 had defended the right. 
 
 " I am ashamed of my emotion,' said Prince Florizel; 
 "I feel it a weakness unworthy of my station, but the 
 continued existence of that hound of hell had begun 
 to play upon me like a disease, and his death has 
 more refreshed me than a night of slumber. Look, 
 Geraldine," he continued, throwing his sword upon the 
 floor, " there is the blood of the man who killed your 
 brother. It should be a welcome sight. And yet," 
 he added, " see how strangely we men are made ! my 
 revenge is not yet five minutes old, and already I am 
 beginning to ask myself if even revenge be attainable 
 on this precarious stage of life. The ill he did, who 
 can undo it ? The career in which he amassed a huge 
 fortune (for the house itself in which he staid belonged 
 to him) — that career is now a part of the destiny of 
 mankind forever; and I might weary myself making 
 thrusts in carte until the crack of judgment, and Ger- 
 aldine's brother would be none the less dead, and a 
 thousand other innocent persons would be none the 
 less dishonored and debauched ! The existence of a 
 man is so small a thing to take, so mighty a thing to 
 employ ! Alas ! " he cried, " is there anything in life 
 so disenchanting as attainment ? " 
 
 "God's justice has been done," replied the Doctor. 
 " So much I behold. The lesson, your Highness, has 
 been a cruel one for me; and I await my own turn 
 with deadly apprehension." 
 
 "What was I saying ?" cried the Prince. " I have 
 punished, and here is the man beside us who can help 
 me to undo. Ah, Dr. Noel ! you and I have before us 
 many a day of hard and honorable toil; and perhaps, 
 before we have done, you may have more than 
 redeemed your early errors."
 
 NEW ARABIAN NIGh 
 
 " Ami in the meantime," said the Doctor, "let mo 
 d bury my oldest friend." 
 
 [And this, observes the erudite Arabian, is the for- 
 
 i the tale. The Prince, it is superjlu- 
 
 • si i ved him in this 
 
 .ind to this day his authority and influence 
 
 help then in (heir public career, while his con- 
 
 nding friendship adds a charm to their private life. 
 
 To collect, continues the author, all the strange events in 
 
 -which this Prince has played the part of Providence 
 
 were to Jill the habitable globe with books. Juit the 
 
 stories "which relate to the fortunes of The Rajah's 
 
 DIAMOND are of too entertaining a description, says he, 
 
 to be omitted. Following prudently in the footsteps oj 
 
 this Oriental, we shall now begin the series to which h£ 
 
 refers with the Story of the Bandbox.)
 
 THE RAJAH'S DIAMOND.
 
 THE RAJAH'S DIAMOND. 
 
 STORY OF THE BANDBOX. 
 
 UP to the age of sixteen, at a private school and 
 afterwards at one of those great institutions for 
 which England is justly famous, Mr. Harry Hartley 
 had received the ordinary education of a gentleman. 
 At that period, he manifested a remarkable distaste for 
 study ; and his only surviving parent being both weak 
 and ignorant, he was permitted thenceforward to spend 
 his time in the attainment of petty and purely elegant 
 accomplishments. Two years later, he was left an 
 orphan and almost a beggar. For all active and indus- 
 trious pursuits, Harry was unfitted alike by nature and 
 training. He could sing romantic ditties, and accom- 
 pany himself with discretion on the piano ; he was a 
 graceful although a timid cavalier ; he had a pro- 
 nounced taste for chess ; and nature had sent him into 
 the world with one of the most engaging exteriors that 
 can well be fancied. Blond and pink, with dove's eyes 
 and a gentle smile, he had an air of agreeable tender- 
 ness and melancholy, and the most submissive and 
 caressing manners. But when all is said, he was not 
 the man to lead armaments of war, or direct the coun- 
 cils of a State. 
 
 A fortunate chance and some influence obtained for 
 Harry, at the time of his bereavement, the position of 
 private secretary to Major-General Sir Thomas Vande- 
 leur, C.15. Sir Thomas was a man of sixty, loud-spoken, 
 boisterous, and domineering. For some reason, some 
 service the nature of which had been often whispered 
 and repeatedly denied, the Rajah of Kashgar had pre- 
 sented this officer with the sixth known diamond of the 
 world. The gift transformed General Vandeleur from 
 89
 
 «;o Xi: ir .\ R. f /:/. i N NIGH TS. 
 
 a poor into a wealthy man, from an obscure and 
 unpopular soldier into one of the linns of London 
 \ ; the possessor of the Rajah's Diamond was 
 welcome in the most exclusive < ircles ; and he had 
 found a lady, young, beautiful, and well-born, who was 
 willing to call the diamond hers even at the price of 
 marriage with Sir Th< : : \ andeleur. It was com- 
 monly said at the time that, as like draws to like, one 
 jewel hadattracted another ; certainly Lady Vandeleur 
 not only a gem of the finest water in her own 
 person, but she showed herself to the world in a very 
 costly setting ; and she was considered by many 
 respectable authorities, as one among the three or four 
 best dressed women in England. 
 
 Harry's duty as secretary was not particularly oner- 
 ous ; but he had a dislike for all prolonged work ; it 
 gave him pain to ink His fingers ; and the charms of 
 Lady Vandeleur and her toilettes drew him often from 
 the library to the boudoir. He had the prettiest ways 
 among women, could talk fashions with enjoyment, 
 and was never more happy than when criticising a 
 shade of ribbon, or running on an errand to the mil- 
 liner's. In short, Sir Thomas's correspondence fell into 
 pitiful arrears, and my Lady had another lady's maid. 
 
 At last the General, who was one of the least patient 
 of military commanders, arose from his place in a vio- 
 lent excess of passion, and indicated to his secretary 
 that he had no further use for his services, with one 
 of those explanatory gestures which are most rarely 
 employed between gentlemen. The door being unfor- 
 tunately open, Mr. Hartley fell down-stairs head fore- 
 most. 
 
 He arose somewhat hurt and very deeply aggrieved. 
 The life in the General's house precisely suited him ; 
 he moved, on a more or less doubtful footing, in very 
 genteel company, he did little, he ate of the best, and 
 he had a lukewarm satisfaction in the presence of Lady 
 Vandeleur, which, in his own heart, he dubbed by a 
 more emphatic name.
 
 THE RAJAH'S DIAMOND. 91 
 
 Immediately after he had been outraged by the mil- 
 itary foot, lie hurried to the boudoir and recounted his 
 sorrows. 
 
 " You know very well, my dear Harry," replied Lady 
 Vandeleur, for shs called him by name like a child or 
 a domestic servant, " that you never by any chance do 
 what the General tells you. No more do I, you may 
 say. But that is different. A woman can earn her 
 pardon for a good year of disobedience by a single 
 adroit submission ; and, besides, no one is married to 
 his private secretary. I shall be sorry to lose you, but 
 since you cannot stay longer in a house where you have 
 been insulted, I shall wish you good-bye, and I promise 
 you to make the General smart for his behavior." 
 
 Harry's countenance fell ; tears came into his 
 eyes, and he gazed 0:1 Lady Vandeleur with a tender 
 reproach. 
 
 " My Lady," said he, " what is an insult ? I should 
 think little indeed of anyone who could not forgive 
 them by the score. But to leave one's friends ; to 
 tear up the bonds of affection " 
 
 He was unable to continue, for his emotion choked 
 him, and he began to weep. 
 
 Lady Vandeleur looked at him with a curious 
 expression. 
 
 "This little fool," she thought, "imagines himself 
 to be in love with me. Why should he not become 
 my servant instead of the General's ? He is good- 
 natured, obliging, and understands dress; and besides 
 it will keep him out of mischief. He is positively too 
 pretty to be unattached." 
 
 That night she talked over the General, who was 
 already somewhat ashamed of his vivacity; and Harry 
 was transferred to the feminine department, where his 
 life was little short of heavenly. He was always 
 dressed with uncommon nicety, wore delicate flowers 
 in his button-hole, and could entertain a visitor with 
 tact and pleasantry. He took a pride in servility to a 
 beautiful woman; received Lady Vandeleur* s com-
 
 92 NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 mands as so many marks of favor; and was pleased t" 
 exhibit himself before other men, who derided and 
 despised him, in his character of male lady's-maid and 
 
 man milliner. Nor could he think enough of his 
 
 ira a moral point of view. Wickedness 
 
 seemed to him an essentially male attribute, and to 
 
 ■ lie's days with a delicate woman, and principally 
 ipied about trimmings, was to inhabit an enchanted 
 isle among the storms of life. 
 
 One fine morning he came into the drawing-room 
 and began to arrange some music on the top of the 
 piano. Lady Yandeleur, at the other end of the 
 apartment, was speaking somewhat eagerly with her 
 brother, Charlie I'endragon, an elderly young man, 
 much broken with dissipation, and very lame of 
 foot. The private secretary, to whose entrance they 
 paid no reg Lrd, could not avoid overhearing a part of 
 their conversation. 
 
 " To-day or never," said the lady. "Once and for 
 all, it shall be done to-d.iv." 
 
 lay, if it must be," replied the brother, with a 
 sigh. "l!;it it is a false step, a. ruinous step, Clara; 
 and we shall live to repent it dismally." 
 
 I idy Vandeleur looked her brother steadily and 
 somewhat strangely in the f 
 
 "You forget,' she said; "the man must die at 
 last." 
 
 " Upon my word, Clara," said I'endragon, " I 
 believe you are the most heartless rascal in England." 
 
 " You men," she returned, " are so coarsely built, that 
 you can never appreciate a shade of meaning. You 
 are yourselves rapacious, violent, immodest, careless fit 
 distinction; and yet the least thought for the future 
 shocks you in a woman. I have no patience with 
 such stuff. You would despise in a common banker 
 the imbecility that you expect to find in us." 
 
 "You are very likely right," replied her brother; 
 "you were always cleverer than I. And, anyway, you 
 know my motto: the family before all."
 
 THE R A JAWS DIAMOND. 93 
 
 "Yes, Charlie," she returned, taking his hand in 
 hers, " I know your motto better than you know it 
 yourself. And ' Clara before the family ! ' Is not 
 that the second part of it ? Indeed, you are the best 
 of brothers, and I love you dearly." 
 
 Mr. Pendragon got up, looking a little confused by 
 these family endearments. 
 
 " I had better not be seen," said he. " I understand my 
 part to a miracle, and I'll keep an eye on the Tame Cat." 
 
 " Do," she replied. " He is an abject creature, and 
 might ruin all." 
 
 She kissed the tips of her fingers to him daintily; and 
 the brother withdrew by the boudoir and the back stair, 
 
 " Harry," said Lady Vandeleur, turning towards 
 the secretary as soon as they were alone. " I have a 
 commission for you this morning. But you shall take 
 a cab; I cannot have my secretary freckled." 
 
 She spoke the last words with emphasis and a look of 
 half-motherly pride that caused great contentment to 
 poor Harry; and he professed himself charmed to find 
 an opportunity of serving her. 
 
 "It is another of our great secrets," she went on, 
 archly, "and no one must know of it but my secretary 
 and me. Sir Thomas would make the saddest dis- 
 turbance; and if you only knew how weary I am of 
 these scenes ! Oh, Harry, Harry, can you explain to 
 me what makes you men so violent and unjust ? But, 
 indeed, I know you cannot; you are the only man in 
 the world who knows nothing of these shameful pas- 
 sions; you are so good, Harry, and so kind; you, at 
 least, can be a woman's friend; and, do you know? I 
 think you make the others more ugly by comparison." 
 
 " It is you," said Harry, gallantly, "who are so kind 
 to me. You treat me like " 
 
 " Like a mother," interposed Lady Vandeleur, " I 
 try to be a mother to you. Or, at least," she corrected 
 herself with a smile, ' almost a mother. I am afraid I 
 am too young to be your mother really. Let us say a- 
 friend — a dear friend."
 
 94 V ARABIAN X hi UTS. 
 
 She paused long enough to let her words take c^^c\ 
 
 in H.ury's sentimental quarters, but not long enough 
 low him a reply. 
 
 ill this is beside our purpose," she resumed. 
 i will find a bandbox in the left-hand side of the 
 oak wardrobe; it is underneath the pink slip that 1 
 on Wednesday with my Mechlin. You will take 
 it immediately to this address," and she gave him a 
 paper, " but do not, on any account, let it out of your 
 hands until you have received a receipt written by 
 myself. Do you understand ? Answer, if you please 
 — answer ! This is extremely important, and I must 
 ask you to pay some attention." 
 
 Harry pacified her by repeating her instructions per- 
 fectly; and she was just going to tell him more when 
 General Vandeleui flung into the apartment, scarlet 
 with anger, and holding a long and elaborate milliner's 
 bill in his hand. 
 
 '• Will you look at this, madam ?" cried he. " Will 
 you have the goodness to look at this document ? I 
 know well enough you married me for my money, and 
 I hope I can make as great allowance as any other 
 man in the service; but, as sure as God made me, I 
 mean to put a period to this disreputable prodigality." 
 
 " Mr. Hartley," said Lady Vandeleur, " I think you 
 understand what you have to do. May I ask you to 
 see to it at once ?" 
 
 "Stop," said the General, addressing Harry, "one 
 word before you go." And then, turning again to 
 1 Vandeleur, "What is this precious fellow's 
 
 errand ? " he demanded. " I trust him no further than 
 I do yourself, let me tell you. If he had as much as 
 the rudiments of honesty, he would scorn to stay in 
 this house; and what he does for his wages is a mys- 
 to all the world. What is his errand, madam ? and 
 why are you hurrying him away ?" 
 
 " I supposed you had something to say to me in pri- 
 vate," replied the lady. 
 
 " You spoke about an errand," insisted the General
 
 THE RAJAH'S DIAMOND. 95 
 
 { " Do not attempt to deceive me in my present state of 
 temper. You certainly spoke about an errand." 
 
 " If you insist on making your servants privy to our 
 humiliating dissensions," replied Lady Vandeleur. 
 " perhaps I had better ask Mr. Hartley to sit down 
 No ? " she continued; " then you may go, Mr. Hartley. 
 I trust you may remember all that you have heard in 
 this room; it may be useful to you." 
 
 Harry at once made his escape from the drav/ing- 
 room; and as he ran upstairs he could hear the Gen- 
 eral's voice upraised in declamation, and the thin tones 
 of Lady Vandeleur planting icy repartees at every 
 opening. How cordially he admired the wife! How 
 skilfully she could evade an awkward question! with 
 what secure effrontery she repeated her instructions 
 under the very guns of the enemy! and on the other 
 hand, how he detested the husband! 
 
 There had been nothing unfamiliar in the morning's 
 events, for he was continually in the habit of serving 
 Lady Vandeleur on secret missions, principally con- 
 nected with millinery. There was a skeleton in the 
 house, as he well knew. The bottomless extravagance 
 and the unknown liabilities of the wife had long since 
 swallowed her own fortune, and threatened day by day 
 to engulf that of the husband. Once or twice in 
 every year exposure and ruin seemed imminent, and 
 Harry kept trotting round to all sorts of furnishers' 
 shops, telling small fibs, and paying small advances on 
 the gross amount, until another term was tided over, 
 and the lady and her faithful secretary breathed again. 
 For Harry, in a double capacity, was heart and soul 
 upon that side of the war: not only did he adore Lady 
 Vandeleur and fear and dislike her husband, but he 
 naturally sympathized with the love of finery, and his 
 own single extravagance was at the tailor's. 
 
 He found the bandbox where it had been described, 
 arranged his toilet with care, and left the house. The 
 sun shone brightly; the distance he had to travel was 
 considerable, and he remembered with dismay that the
 
 96 V ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 I raTs sudden irruption had prevented Lady Van- 
 deleur from giving him money for a cab. On this 
 sultry day there w i hance that his < omplexion 
 would suffer severely; and to walk through so much 
 oi I ondon with a x on his arm was a humilia- 
 tion almost insupportable to a youth of his character. 
 He paused, and took counsel with himself. The Van- 
 deleurs lived in Eaton Place; his destination was near 
 
 rig Hill; plainly, he might cross the Park by 
 keeping well in the open and avoiding populous alleys; 
 and he thanked his stars when he reflected that it was 
 still comparatively early in the day. 
 
 Anxious to be rid ot" his incubus, he walked some- 
 what faster than his ordinary, and he was already some 
 way through Kensington Gardens when, in a solitary 
 s]>ot among trees, he found himself confronted by the 
 General. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, Sir Thomas," observed Harry, 
 politely falling on one side; for the other stood directly 
 in his path. 
 
 "Where are you going, sir?" asked the General. 
 
 " I am taking a little walk among the trees,' replied 
 the ! 
 
 The General strut k the bandbox with his cane. 
 
 "With that thing?" he cried; "you lie, sir, and you 
 know you lie! " 
 
 "Indeed, Sir Thomas," returned Harry, "I am not 
 accustomed to be questioned in so high a key." 
 
 "You do not understand your position," said the 
 General. "You are my servant, and a servant of 
 m I have conceived the most serious suspicions. 
 How do I know but that your box is full of tea- 
 spoons ? " 
 
 " It contains a silk hat belonging to a friend," said 
 
 I I rry. 
 
 "Very well," replied General Vandeleur. "Then I 
 want to see your friend's silk hat. I have," he added, 
 iy, "a singular curiosity for hats* and I believe 
 you know me to be somewhat positive."
 
 THE RAJAH'S DIAMOND. 97 
 
 "I beg your pardon, Sir Thomas, I am exceedingly 
 grieved," Harry apologized; " but indeed this is a pri- 
 vate affair." 
 
 The General caught him roughly by the shoulder 
 with one hand, while he raised his cane in the most 
 menacing manner with the other. Harry gave him- 
 self up for lost; but at the same moment Heaven 
 vouchsafed him an unexpected defender in the person 
 of Charlie Pendragon, who now strode forward from 
 behind the trees. 
 
 " Come, come, General, hold your hand," said he, 
 " this is neither courteous nor manly." 
 
 "Aha!" cried the General, wheeling round upon 
 his new antagonist, " Mr. Pendragon! And do you 
 suppose, Mr. Pendragon, that because I have had the 
 misfortune to marry your sister, I shall suffer myself 
 to be dogged and thwarted by a discredited and bank- 
 rupt libertine like you ? My acquaintance with Lady 
 Vandeleur, sir, has taken away all my appetite for the 
 other members of her family." 
 
 " And do you fancy, General Vandeleur," retorted 
 Charlie, " that because my sister has had the misfor- 
 tune to marry you, she there and then forfeited her 
 rights and privileges as a lady? I own, sir, that by 
 that action she did as much as anybody could to dero- 
 gate from her position; but to me she is still a Pen- 
 dragon. I make it my business to protect her from 
 ungentlemanly outrage, and if you were ten times her 
 husband I would not permit her liberty to be 
 restrained, nor her private messenger to be violently 
 arrested." 
 
 " How is that, Mr. Hartley?" interrogated the Gen- 
 eral. " Mr. Pendragon is of my opinion, it appears. 
 He too suspects that Lady Vandeleur has something 
 to do with your friend's silk hat." 
 
 Charlie saw that he had committed an unpardonable 
 blunder, which he hastened to repair. 
 
 " How, sir ? " he cried; " I suspect, do you say ? I 
 suspect nothing. Only where I find strength abused
 
 .' ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 and a man brutalizing his inferiors, I take the liberty 
 to interfere." 
 
 A.S he said these words he made a sign to Harry, 
 which the latter was too dull or too much troubled to 
 understand. 
 
 " In what way am 1 to construe your attitude, sir?" 
 tided Yandclcur. 
 
 " Why, sir, as you please," returned Pendragon. 
 
 The General once more raised his cane, and made 
 a cut for Charlie's head; but the latter, lame foot and 
 all, evaded the blow with his umbrella, ran in, and 
 immediately closed with his formidable adversaiv. 
 
 " Run, Harry, run !" he cried; "run, you dolt!" 
 
 Harry stood petrified for a moment, watching the 
 two men sway together in this fierce embrace; then he 
 turned and took to his heels. When he cast a glance 
 over his shoulder he saw the General prostrate under 
 Charlie's knee, but still making desperate efforts to 
 reverse the situation; and the Gardens seemed to have 
 filled with people, who were running from all direc- 
 tions towards the scene of fight. This spectacle lent 
 the secretary wings; and he did not relax his pace 
 until he had gained the Bayswater road, and plunged 
 at random into an unfrequented by-street. 
 
 To see two gentlemen of his acquaintance thus bru- 
 tally mauling each other was deeply shocking to Harry. 
 Lesired to forget the sight; he desired, above all, 
 to put as great a distance as possible between himself 
 and General Vandeleur; and in his eagerness for this 
 he forgot everything about his destination, and hurried 
 re him headlong and trembling. When he remem- 
 bered that Lady Vandeleur was the wife of one and 
 sifter of the other of these gladiators, his heart was 
 touched with sympathy for a woman so distressingly 
 misplaced in life. Even his own situation in the Gen- 
 eral's house looked hardly so pleasing as usual in the 
 • of these violent transactions. 
 
 He had walked some little distance, busied with 
 these meditations, before a slight collision with
 
 THE RAJAHS DIAMOND. 99 
 
 another passenger reminded him of the bandbox on 
 his arm. 
 
 " Heavens ! " cried he, " where was my head ? and 
 whither have I wandered ? " 
 
 Thereupon he consulted the envelope which Lady 
 Vandeleur had given him. The address was there, 
 but without a name. Harry was simply directed to 
 ask for " the gentleman who expected a parcel from 
 Lady Vandeleur," and if he were not at home to 
 await his return. The gentleman, added the note, 
 should present a receipt in the handwriting of the lady 
 herself. All this seemed mighty mysterious, and 
 Harry was above all astonished at the omission of the 
 name and the formality of the receipt. He had 
 thought little of this last when he heard it dropped in 
 conversation; but reading it in cold blood, and taking 
 it in connection with the other strange particulars, he 
 became convinced that he was engaged in perilous 
 affairs. For half a moment he had a doubt of Lady 
 Vandeleur herself; for he found these obscure pro- 
 ceedings somewhat unworthy of so high a lady, and 
 became more critical when her secrets were preserved 
 against himself. But her empire over his spirit was 
 too complete, he dismissed his suspicions, and blamed 
 himself roundly for having so much as entertained 
 them. 
 
 In one thing, however, his duty and interest, his 
 generosity and his terrors, coincided — to get rid of 
 the bandbox with the greatest possible despatch. 
 
 He accosted the first policeman and courteously 
 inquired his way. It turned out that he was already 
 not far from his destination, and a walk of a few 
 minutes brought him to a small house in a lane, freshly 
 painted, and kept with the most scrupulous attention. 
 The knocker and bell-pull were highly polished; 
 flowering pot-herbs garnished the sills of the different 
 windows; and curtains of some rich material con- 
 cealed the interior from the eyes of curious passen- 
 gers. The place had an air of repose and secresy,"
 
 ioo • W ARABIAN XI CUTS. 
 
 and Harry wis so far caught with this spirit that he 
 knocked with more than usual discretion, and was 
 
 than usually careful to remove all impurity 
 from his boots. 
 
 A servant-maid of some personal attractions imme- 
 diately opened the door, and seemed to regard the 
 tary with no unkind e\ es. 
 
 " This is the pan el from Lady Yandeleur," said 
 Harry. 
 
 " I know," replied the maid, with a nod. " But the 
 gentleman is from home. Will you leave it with 
 me ? " 
 
 " I cannot," answered Harry. " I am directed not 
 to part with it but upon a certain condition, and I 
 must ask you, I am afraid, to let me wait." 
 
 " Well," said she, " I suppose I may let you wait. I 
 am lonely enough, I can tell you, and you do not look 
 as though you would eat a girl. But be sure and do 
 not ask the gentleman's name, for that I am not to tell 
 you." 
 
 "Do you say so?" cried Harry. "Why, how 
 strange! But indeed for some time back I walk 
 among surprises. One question I think I may surely 
 ask without indiscretion: Is he the master of this 
 house ? " 
 
 " He is a lodger, and not eight days old at that," 
 returned the maid. " And now a question for a ques- 
 tion: Do you know Lady Vandeleur?" 
 
 " I am her private secretary," replied Harry, with a 
 glow of modest pride. 
 
 - ■ is pretty, is she not ?" pursued the servant. 
 
 "Oh, beautiful !" cried Harry; " wonderfully lovely, 
 and not less good and kind! " 
 
 " You look kind enough yourself," she retorted; 
 "and I wager you are worth a dozen Lady Vande- 
 leurs." 
 
 Harry was properly scandalized. 
 
 ' I ! " he cried. " I am only a secretary! " 
 
 4 Do you mean that for me ? " said the girl. " Be-
 
 THE RAJAH'S DIAMOND. IOI 
 
 cause I am only a housemaid, if you please." And 
 then, relenting at the sight of Harry's obvious con- 
 fusion, " I know you mean nothing of the sort," she 
 added; " and I like your looks; but I think nothing 
 of your Lady Vandeleur. Oh, these mistresses!" she 
 cried. " To send out a real gentleman like you — with 
 a bandbox — in broad day! " 
 
 During this talk they had remained in their original 
 positions — she on the doorstep, he on the sidewalk, 
 bareheaded for the sake «of -coolness, and with the 
 bandbox on his arm. But upon this last speech Harry, 
 who was unable to support such point-blank compli- 
 ments to his appearance, nor the encouraging look 
 with which they were accompanied, began to change 
 his attitude, and glance from left to right in perturba- 
 tion. In so doing he turned his face towards the 
 lower end of the lane, and there, to his indescribable, 
 dismay, his eyes encountered those of General Vande- 
 leur. The General, in a prodigious fluster of heat, 
 hurry, and indignation, had been scouring the streets 
 in chase of his brother-in-law; but so soon as he 
 caught a glimpse of the delinquent secretary his pur- 
 pose changed, his anger flowed into a new channel, 
 and he turned on his heel and came tearing up the 
 lane with truculent gestures and vociferations. 
 
 Harry made but one bolt of it into the house, driv- 
 ing the maid before him; and the door was slammed 
 in his pursuer's countenance. 
 
 " Is there a bar ? Will it lock? " asked Harry, while 
 a salvo on the knocker made the house echo from 
 wall to wall. 
 
 " Why, what is wrong with you ? " asked the maid. 
 " Is it this old gentleman ? " 
 
 " If he gets hold of me," whispered Harry, " I am 
 as good as dead. He has been pursuing me all day, 
 carries a sword-stick, and is an Indian military 
 officer." 
 
 " These are fine manners," cried the maid. " And 
 what, if you please, may be his name ?" 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CAT.TFORNTA 
 SANTA BARBARA COLLEGE LIBRA
 
 io2 NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 "It is the General, my master," answered Harry. 
 " He is after this bandbox." 
 
 "Did not I tell you?"cried the maid in triumph. 
 " I told you I thought worse than nothing of your 
 Lady Vandeleur; and it' you had an eye in your head 
 you might see what she is for yourself. An ungrateful 
 minx, I will be bound for that! " 
 
 The General renewed his attack upon the knocker, 
 and his \ as^ion growing with delay, began to kick and 
 beat upon the panels of the door. 
 
 " It is lucky," observed the girl, " that I am alone in 
 the house; your General may hammer until he is 
 weary, and there is none to open for him. Follow 
 me! " 
 
 So saying she led Harry into the kitchen, where she 
 made him sit down, and stood by him herself in an 
 affectionate attitude, with a hand upon his shoulder. 
 The din at the door, so far from abating, continued to 
 increase in volume, and at each blow the unhappy sec- 
 retary was shaken to the heart. 
 
 " What is your name ? " asked the girl. 
 
 "Harry Hartley," he replied. 
 
 "Mine," she went on, "is Prudence. Do you like 
 it ? " 
 
 "Very much," said Harry. 'But hear for a moment 
 how the General beats upon the door. He will cer- 
 tainly break it in, and then, in heaven's name, what 
 have I to look f< :r but death ?" 
 
 "You put yourself very much about with no occas- 
 ion," answered Prudence. "Let your General knock, 
 he will do no more than blister his hands. Do you 
 think I would keep you here if I were not sure to 
 save you ? Oh, no, I am a good friend to those that 
 please me ! and we have a back door upon another 
 lane. But," she added, checking him, for he had got 
 upon his feet immediately on this welcome news, " but 
 I will not show where it is unless you kiss me. Will 
 you, Harry? " 
 
 " That I will," he cried, remembering his gallantryi
 
 THE RA VAH'S DIAMOND. 103 
 
 * not for your back door, but because you are good 
 and pretty." 
 
 And he administered two or three cordial salutes, 
 which were returned to him in kind. 
 
 Then Prudence led him to the back gate, and put 
 her hand upon the key. 
 
 " Will you come and see me ? " she asked. 
 
 " I will indeed," said Harry. " Do not I owe you 
 my life ? " 
 
 "And now," she added, opening the door, "run as 
 hard as you can, for I shall let in the General." 
 
 Harry scarcely required this advice; fear had him 
 by the forelock; and he addressed himself diligently 
 to flight. A few steps, and he believed he would 
 return to Lady Vandeleur in honor and safety. But 
 these few steps had not been taken before he heard a 
 man's voice, hailing him by name with many execra- 
 tions, and, looking over his shoulder, he beheld 
 Charlie Pendragon waving him with both arms to 
 return. The shock of this new incident was so 
 sudden and profound, and Harry was already 
 worked into so high a state of nervous tension, that 
 he could think of nothing better than to accelerate his 
 pace, and continue running. He should certainly have 
 remembered the scene in Kensington Gardens ; he 
 should certainly have concluded that, where the General 
 was his enemy, Charlie Pendragon could be no other 
 than a friend. But such was the fever and perturba- 
 tion of his mind that he was struck by none of these 
 considerations, and only continued to run the faster up 
 the lane. 
 
 Charlie, by the sound of his voice and the vile 
 terms that he hurled after the secretary, was obviously 
 beside himself with rage. He, too, ran his very best; 
 but, try as he might, the physical advantages were not 
 upon his side, and his outcries and the fall of his lame 
 foot on the macadam began to fall farther and farther 
 into the wake. 
 
 Harry's hopes began once more to arise. The lane
 
 io4 XI 'II' ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 both steep and narrow, but it was exceedingly 
 !v, bordered on either hand by garden walls, 
 overhung with foliage; and, for as far as the fugitive 
 could see in front of him, there was neither a < reature 
 moving nor an open door. Providence, weary oi per- 
 secution, was now offering him an open field tor his 
 pe. 
 
 Alas! as he came abreast of a garden door under a 
 tuft of chestnuts, it was suddenly drawn hack, and he 
 I see inside, upon a garden path, the figure of a 
 butcher's boy with, his tray upon his arm. He had 
 hardly recognized the fact before he was some steps 
 beyond upon the other side. But the fellow had had 
 time to observe him; he was evidently much surprised 
 to see a gentleman go by at so unusual a pace; and he 
 came out into the lane and began to call after Harry 
 with shouts of ironical encouragement. 
 
 His appearance gave a new idea to Charlie Pen- 
 dragon, who, although he was now sadly out of breath, 
 once more upraised his voice. 
 
 " Stop thief! " he cried. 
 
 And immediately the butcher's boy had taken up 
 the cry and joined in the pursuit. 
 
 This was a hitter moment for the hunted secretary. 
 It is true that his terror enabled him once more to 
 improve his pace, and gain with every step on his pur- 
 suers; but he was well aware that he was near the end 
 of his resources, and should he meet anyone coming 
 the other way, his predicament in the narrow lane 
 would he desperate indeed. 
 
 " I must find a place of concealment," he thought, 
 "and that within tin- next few seconds, or all is over 
 
 with me in this world." 
 
 Scarcely had the thought crossed his mind than the 
 lane took a sudden turning ; and he found himself hid- 
 den from his enemies. There are circumstances in 
 which even the least energetic of mankind learn to 
 behave with vigor and decision ; and the more cautious 
 forget their prudence- and emhrace foolhardy resolu-
 
 THE RAJAH'S DIAMOND. 105 
 
 tions. This was one of those occasions for Harry 
 Hartley ; and those who knew him best would have 
 been the most astonished at the lad's audacity. He 
 stopped dead, flung the bandbox over a garden wall, 
 and leaping upward with incredible agility and seizing 
 the copestone with his hands, he tumbled headlong 
 after it into the garden. 
 
 He came to himself a moment afterwards, seated in 
 a border of small rosebushes. His hands and knees 
 were cut and bleeding, for the wall had been protected 
 against such an escalade by a liberal provision of old 
 bottles ; and he was conscious of a general dislocation 
 and a painful swimming in the head. Facing him 
 across the garden, which was in admirable order, and 
 set with flowers of the most delicious perfume, he 
 beheld the back of a house. It was of considerable 
 extent, and plainly habitable ; but, in odd contrast to 
 the grounds, it was crazy, ill-kept, and of a mean 
 appearance. On all other sides the circuit of the gar- 
 den wall appeared unbroken. 
 
 He took in these features of the scene with mechan- 
 ical glances, but his mind was still unable to piece 
 together or draw a rational conclusion from what he 
 saw. And when he heard footsteps advancing on 
 the gravel, although he turned his eyes in that 
 direction, it was with no thought either for defense 
 or flight. 
 
 The new comer was a large, coarse, and very sordid 
 personage, in gardening clothes, and with a watering- 
 pot in his left hand. One less confused would have 
 been affected with some alarm at the sight of tin's 
 man's huge proportions and black and lowering eyes. 
 But Harry was too gravely shaken by his fall to be so 
 much as terrified ; and if he was unable to divert his 
 glances from the gardener, he remained absolutely 
 passive, and suffered him to draw near, to take him 
 by the shoulder, and to plant him roughly on his feet, 
 without a motion of resistance. 
 
 For a moment the two stared into each other's eyes,
 
 106 NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 Harry Fascinated, the man filled with wrath and a cruel, 
 sneering humor. 
 
 " Who arc you ?" he demanded at last. "Who are 
 ome flying over my wall and break my Gloin 
 ■ / What is your name?" he added, shaking 
 
 him ; ''and what may be your business here?" 
 
 Harry could not as much as proffer a word in 
 explanation. 
 
 But just at that moment Pendragon and the butch- 
 er's boy went clumping past, and the sound of their 
 feet and their hoarse cries echoed loudly in the nar- 
 row lane. The gardener had received his answer ; and 
 he looked down into Harry's face with an obnoxious 
 smile. 
 
 " A thief ! " he said. " Upon my -word, and a very 
 good thing you must make of it ; for I see you dressed 
 like a gentleman from top to toe. Are you not 
 ashamed to go about the world in such a trim, with 
 honest folk, I dare say, glad to buy your cast-off finery 
 second-hand ? Speak up, you dog," the man went on ; 
 " you can understand English, I suppose ; and 1 mean 
 to have a bit of talk with you before I march you to 
 the station." 
 
 " Indeed, sir," said Harry, " this is all a dreadful mis- 
 conception ; and if you will go with me to Sir Thomas 
 Vandeleur's in Eaton Place, I can promise that all will 
 be made plain. The most upright person, as I now 
 perceive, can be led into suspicious positions." 
 
 " My little man," replied the gardener, " I will go 
 with you no farther than the station-house in the next 
 t. The inspector, no doubt, will be glad to take 
 a stroll with you as far as Eaton Place, and have a bit 
 of afternoon tea with your great acquaintances. Or 
 would you prefer to go direct to the Home Secretary ? 
 Sir Thomas Vandcleur, indeed .' Perhaps you think I 
 don't know a gentleman when I see one, from a com- 
 mon run-the-hedgc like you ? Clothes or no clothes, I 
 can read you like a book. Here is a shirt that maybe 
 cost as much as my Sunday hat ; and that coat, I take
 
 THE RAJAH'S DIAMOND. 107 
 
 it, has never seen the inside of Rag-fair, and then your 
 boots — " 
 
 The man, whose eyes had fallen upon the ground, 
 stopped short in his insulting commentary, and 
 remained for a moment looking intently upon something 
 at his feet. When he spoke his voic-e was strangely 
 altered. 
 
 " What, in God's name," said he, *' is all this ?" 
 Harry, following the direction of the man's eyes, 
 beheld a spectacle that struck him dumb with terror 
 and amazement. In his fall he had descended vertic- 
 ally upon the bandbox and burst it open from end to 
 end ; thence a great treasure of diamonds had poured 
 forth, and now lay abroad, part trodden in the soil, 
 part scattered on the surface in regal and glittering 
 profusion. There was a magnificent coronet which he 
 had often admired on Lady Vandeleur ; there were 
 rings and brooches, ear-drops and bracelets, and even 
 unset brilliants rolling here and there among the 
 rosebushes like drops of morning dew. A princely 
 fortune lay between the two men upon the ground — a 
 fortune in the most inviting, solid, and durable form, 
 capable of being carried in an apron, beautiful in itself, 
 and scattering the sunlight in a million rainbow flashes. 
 " Good God ! " said Harry, " I am lost ! " 
 His mind raced backward into the past with the 
 incalculable velocity of thought, and he began to com- 
 prehend his day's adventures, to conceive them as a 
 whole, and to recognize the sad imbroglio in which his 
 own character and fortunes had become involved. He 
 looked round him, as if for help, but lie was alone in 
 the garden, with his scattered diamonds and his 
 redoubtable interlocutor ; and when he gave ear, there 
 was no sound but the rustle of the leaves and the 
 hurried pulsation of his heart. It was little wonder 
 if the young man felt himself a little deserted by 
 his spirits, and with a broken voice repeated hi* last 
 ejaculation — 
 " I am lost ! "
 
 10S NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS 
 
 The gardener peered in all directions with an air of 
 guilt : but th no face at any of the windows, 
 
 and he seemed to breathe again. 
 
 " Pick up a heart," lie said, "you fool ! The worst 
 »ne. Why could you not say at first there 
 Two I " he repeated, "aye, and 
 for two hundred ! But come away from here, where 
 we may be observed ; and, for the love of wisdom, 
 straighten out your hat and brush your clothes. You 
 could not travel two steps the figure of fun you look 
 just now." 
 
 While Harry mechanically adopted these sugges- 
 tions, the gardener, getting upon his knees, hastily 
 drew together the scattered jewels and returned them 
 to the bandbox. The touch of these costly crystals 
 sent a shiver of emotion through the man's stalwart 
 frame ; his face was transfigured, and his eyes shone 
 with concupiscence ; indeed it seemed as if he luxuri- 
 ously prolonged his occupation, and dallied with every 
 diamond that he handled. At last, however, it was 
 done ; and, concealing the bandbox in his smock, the 
 gardener beckoned to Harry and preceded him in the 
 direction of the house. 
 
 Near the door they were met by a young man evi- 
 dently in holy orders, dark and strikingly handsome, 
 with a look of mingled weakness and resolution, 
 and very neatly attired after the manner of his caste. 
 The gardener was plainly annoyed by this encounter ; 
 but he put as good a face upon it as he could, and 
 accosted the clergyman with an obsequious and smil- 
 ing air. 
 
 " Here is a fine afternoon, Mr. Rolles," said he : "a 
 fine afternoon, as sure as God made it ! And here is a 
 young friend of mine who had a fancy to look at my 
 roses. I took the liberty to bring him in, for I thought 
 none of the lodgers would object." 
 
 " Speaking for myself," replied the Reverend Mr. 
 Rolles, " I do not ; nor do I fancy any of the rest of 
 us would be more difficult upon so small a matter.
 
 THE RAJAH'S DIAMOND. 109 
 
 The garden is your own, Mr. Raeburn ; we must none 
 of us forget that ; and b .cause you give us liberty to 
 walk there we should be indeed ungracious if we so far 
 presumed upon your politeness as to interfere with the 
 convenience of your friends. But, on second thoughts," 
 he added, " I believe that this gentleman and I have met 
 before. Mr. Hartley, I think. I regret to observe 
 that you have had a fall." 
 
 And he offered his hamr. 
 
 A sort of maiden dignity and a desire to delay as 
 long as possible the necessity for explanation moved 
 Harry to refuse this chance of help, and to deny his 
 own identity. He chose the tender mercies of the 
 gardener, who was at least unknown to him, rather 
 than the curiosity and perhaps the doubts of an 
 acquaintance. 
 
 "I fear there is some mistake," said he. "My 
 name is Thomlinson and I am a friend of Mr. Rae- 
 burn's." 
 
 " Indeed ? " said Mr. Rolles. " The likeness 13 
 amazing." 
 
 Mr. Raeburn, who had been upon thorns through- 
 out this colloquy, now felt it high time to bring it to a 
 period. 
 
 " I wish you a pleasant saunter, sir," said he. 
 
 And with that he dragged Harry after him into the 
 house, and then into a chamber on the garden. His 
 first care was to draw down the blind, for Mr. Rolles 
 still remained where they had left him, in an attitude 
 of perplexity and thought. Then he emptied the 
 broken bandbox on the table, and stood before the 
 treasure, thus fully displayed, with an expression of 
 rapturous greed, and rubbing his hands upon his thighs. 
 For Harry, the sight of the man's face under the influ- 
 ence of this base emotion, added another pang to those 
 he was already suffering. It seemed incredible that, 
 from his life of pure and delicate trifling, he should be 
 plunged in a breath among sordid and criminal rela- 
 tions. He could reproach his conscience with no sinful
 
 no NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 act , and yet he was now suffering the punishment o! 
 sin in its most acute and cruel forms — the dread of 
 punishment, the suspicions of the good, and the i om- 
 panionship and contamination of vile and brutal 
 nature- He felt he could lay his life down with glad- 
 ness to escape from the room and, the society of Mr. 
 Raebum. 
 
 '"And now," said the latter, after lie had separated 
 the jewels into two nearly equal parts, and drawn one 
 of them nearer to himself ; "and now," said he, " every- 
 thing in this world has to be paid for, and some things 
 sweetly. You must know, Mr. Hartley, if such be your 
 name, that I am a man of a very easy temper, and good 
 nature has been my stumbling block from first to last. 
 I could pocket the whole of these pretty pebbles, if I 
 ( hose, and I should like to see you dare to say a word; 
 but I think I must have taken a liking to you ; for I 
 declare I have not the heart to shave you so close. So, 
 do you see, in pure kind feeling, I propose that we 
 divide ; and these," indicating the two heaps, " are the 
 proportions that seem to me just and friendly. Do you 
 see any objection, Mr. Hartley, may I ask? I am not 
 the man to stick upon a brooch." 
 
 " But, sir," cried Harry, " what you propose to me 
 is impossible. The jewels are not mine, and I cannot 
 share what is another's, no matter with whom, nor in 
 what proportions." 
 
 "They are not yours, are they not?" returned 
 Raeburn. " And you could not share them with any- 
 body, couldn't you ? Well now, that is what I call a 
 pity ; for here I am obliged to take you to the station. 
 The police — think of that," he continued ; " think of 
 the disgrace for your respectable parents ; think," he 
 went on, taking Harry by the wrist; "think of the 
 Colonies and the Day of Judgment." 
 
 "I cannot help it," wailed Harry. "It is not my 
 fault. You will not come with me to Eaton Place." 
 
 " No," replied the man, " I will not, that is certain. 
 And I mean to divide these playthings with you here."
 
 THE RA JAH'S DIAMOND. 1 1 1 
 
 And so saying he applied a sudden and severe tor- 
 sion to the lad's wrist. 
 
 Harry could not suppress a scream, and the perspira- 
 tion burst forth upon his face. Perhaps pain and 
 terror quickened his intelligence, but certainly at that 
 moment the whole business flashed across him in 
 another light ; and he saw that there was nothing for 
 it but to accede to the ruffian's proposal, and trust to 
 find the house and force him to disgorge, under more 
 favorable circumstances, and when, he himself was 
 clear from all suspicion. 
 
 " I agree," he said. 
 
 " There is a lamb," sneered the gardener. " I thought 
 you would recognize your interests at last. This band- 
 box," he continued, " I shall burn with my rubbish; it is 
 a thing that curious folk might recognize; and as for you, 
 scrape up your gaieties and put them in your pocket." 
 
 Harry proceeded to obey, Raeburn watching him, 
 and every now and again, his greed rekindled by some 
 bright scintillation, abstracting another jewel from the 
 secretary's share, and adding it to his own. 
 
 When this was finished, both proceeded to the front 
 door, which Raeburn cautiously opened to obcerve 
 the street. This was apparently clear of passengers ; 
 for he suddenly seized Harry by the nape of the neck, 
 and holding his face downward so that he could see 
 nothing but the roadway and the doorsteps of the 
 houses, pushed him violently before him down one 
 street and up another for .the space of perhaps a 
 minute and a half. Harry had counted three corners 
 before the bully relaxed his grasp, and crying, " Now 
 be off with you ! " sent the lad flying headforemost 
 with a well-directed and athletic kick. 
 
 When Harry gathered himself up, half-stunned and 
 bleeding freely at the nose, Mr. Raeburn had entirely 
 disappeared. For the first time, anger and pain so 
 completely overcame the lad's spirits that he burst into 
 a fit of tears and remained sobbing in the middle of 
 the road.
 
 i 1 1 NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS, 
 
 After he had thus somewhat assuaged his emotion, 
 
 he began to look about him and read the names of the 
 
 ts at whose intersection he had been deserted by 
 
 irdener. He was still in an unfrequented portion 
 of West London) among villas and Large gardens; but 
 
 he could ■ persons at a window who had evi- 
 
 dently witnessed his misfortune; and almost immedi- 
 ately after a servant came running from the house and 
 offered him a glass of water. At the same time, a 
 dirty rogue, who had been slouching somewhere in the 
 borhood, drew near him from the other side. 
 Poor fellow," said the maid, "how vilely you have 
 been handled, to be sure ! Why, your knees are all 
 cut, and your clothes ruined ! Do you know the 
 wretch who used you so?" 
 
 " That I do ! " cried Harry, who was somewhat 
 refreshed by the water; "and shall run him home in 
 spite of his precautions. He shall pay dearly for this 
 day"s work, 1 promise you." 
 
 " You had better come into the house and have 
 yourself washed and brushed," continued the maid. 
 
 My mistress will make you welcome, never fear. 
 And see, I will pick up your hat. Why, love of 
 mercy ! " she screamed, " if you have not dropped 
 diamonds all over the street ! " 
 
 Such was the case ; a good half of what remained to 
 him after the depredations of Mr. Raeburn, had been 
 shaken out of his pockets by the summersault, and 
 once more lay glittering on the ground. He blessed 
 his fortune that the maid had been so quick of eye ; 
 " there is nothing so bad but it might be worse," 
 thought he ; and the recovery of these few seemed to 
 him almost as great an affair as the loss of all the rest. 
 But, alas ! as he stooped to pick up his treasures the 
 loiterer made a rapid onslaught, overset both Harry 
 and the maid with a movement of his arms, swept up 
 a double handful of the diamonds, and made off along 
 the street with an amazing swiftness. 
 
 Harry, as soon as he could get upon his feet, gave
 
 THE RAJAH'S DIAMOND. 1 13 
 
 chase to the miscreant with many cries, but the latter 
 was too fleet of foot, and probably too well acquainted 
 with the locality ; for turn where the pursuer would he 
 could find no traces of the fugitive. 
 
 In the deepest despondency Harry revisited the 
 scene of his mishap, where the maid, who was still 
 waiting, very honestly returned him his hat and the 
 remainder of the fallen diamonds. Harry thanked her 
 from his heart, and being now in no humor for econ- 
 omy, made his way to the nearest cabstand and set off 
 for Eaton Place by coach. 
 
 The house, on his arrival, seemed in some confusion, 
 as if a catastrophe had happened in the family ; and 
 the servants clustered together in the hall, and 
 were unable, or perhaps not altogether anxious, to sup- 
 press their merriment at the tatterdemalion figure of 
 the secretary. He passed them with as good an air of 
 dignity as he could assume, and made directly for the 
 boudoir. When he opened the door an astonishing 
 and even menacing spectacle presented itself to his 
 eyes ; for he beheld the General and his wife and, of 
 all people, Charlie Pendragon, closeted together and 
 speaking with earnestness and gravity on some import- 
 ant subject. Harry saw at once that there was little 
 left for him to explain — plenary confession had plainly 
 been made to the General of the intended fraud upon 
 his pocket, and the unfortunate miscarriage of the 
 scheme ; and they had all made common cause against 
 a common danger. 
 
 "Thank Heaven!" cried Lady Vandeleur, " here 
 he is ! The bandbox, Harry — the bandbox ! " 
 
 But Harry stood before them silent and downcast. 
 
 " Speak ! " she cried. " Speak ! Where is the 
 bandbox ?" 
 
 And the men, with threatening gestures, repeated 
 the demand. 
 
 Harry drew a handful of jewels from his pocket. 
 He was very white, 
 
 " This is all that remains," said he. " I declare 
 8
 
 i i i V ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 ! : n it \v:is through QO fault of mine; and 
 
 it you will have patience, although some are lost, 1 am 
 there, 1 am sure, may be still recov- 
 !" 
 
 Vandeleur, " all our diamonds 
 are gone, and 1 owe ninety thousand pounds for 
 dress 
 
 " Madam," said the General, "you might have paved 
 the gutter with your own tra.^h ; you might have made 
 debts to titty times the sum you mention ; you might 
 have robbed me of my mother's coronet and rings ; and 
 Nature might have still so far prevailed that J could 
 have forgiven you at last. But, madam, you have 
 taken the Rajah's Diamond — the Eye of Light, as the 
 Orientals poetically termed it — the Pride of Kashgar ! 
 You have taken from me the Rajah's Diamond," he 
 :. raising his hands, "and all, madam, all is at an 
 end between us ! " 
 
 " Believe me, General Vandeleur," she replied, 
 "that is one of the most agreeable speeches that ever 
 I heard from your lips ; and since we are to be ruined 
 I could almost welcome the change, if it delivers me 
 from you. You have told me often enough that I 
 married you for your money ; let me tell you now that 
 I always bitterly repented the bargain ; and if you 
 were still marriageable, and had a diamond bigger than 
 your head, I should counsel even my maid against a 
 union so uninviting and disastrous. As for you, Mr. 
 ley," she continued, turning on the secretary, 
 "you have sufficiently exhibited your valuable quali- 
 ties in this house ; we are now persuaded that you 
 equally lack manhood, sense and self-respect ; and I 
 can see only one course open for you — to withdraw 
 instanter, and, if possible, return no more. For your 
 iu may rank as a creditor in my late husband's 
 bankruptcy." 
 
 Harry had scarcely comprehended this insulting 
 address before the General was down upon him with 
 another.
 
 THE RAJAH'S DIAMOND. 115 
 
 "And in the mean time," said that personage, "fol- 
 low me before the nearest Inspector of Police. You 
 may impose upon a simple-minded soldier, sir, but the 
 eye of the law will read your disreputable secret. If I 
 must spend my old age in poverty through your under- 
 hand intriguing with my wife, I mean at least that you 
 shall not remain unpunished for your pains ; and God, 
 sir, will deny me a very considerable satisfaction if you 
 do not pick oakum from now until your dying day." 
 
 With that the General dragged Harry from the apart- 
 ment, and hurried him downstairs and along the street 
 to the police-station of the district. 
 
 Here (says my Arabian author) ended this deplorable 
 business of the bandbox. But to the unfortunate Secre- 
 tary the 7uhole affair was the beginning of a neiv and man- 
 lier life. The police were easily persuaded of his inno- 
 cence ; and, after he had given what help he could in the 
 subsequent investigations, he was even complimented by one 
 of the chiefs of the detective department on the probity and 
 simplicity of his behavior. Several persons interested 
 themselves in one so unfortunate j and soon after he inher- 
 ited a sum of money from a maiden aunt in Worcestershire. 
 With this he married Prudence, and set sail for Bendigo, 
 or according to another account, for Trincomalee, exceed- 
 ingly content, and with the best of prospects.
 
 STORY OF THE YOUNG MAN IN HOLY 
 ORDERS. 
 
 The Reverend Mr. Simon Rolles had distinguished 
 
 himself in the Mural Sciences, and was mote than 
 lly proficient in the study of Divinity. His essay 
 " ( m the Christian 1 doctrine of the s->< ial I Obligations" 
 obtained for him at the moment of its production, a 
 certain celebrity in the University of Oxford; and it 
 understood in clerical and learned circles that 
 young Mr. Rolles had in contemplation a considerable 
 work — a folio, it was said — on the authority of the 
 Fathers of the Church. These attainments, these ambi- 
 tious designs, however, were far from helping him to 
 any preferment ; and still he was in quest of his first 
 curacy when a chance ramble in that part of London, 
 the peaceful and rich aspect of the garden, a desire 
 for solitude and study, and the cheapness of the lodg- 
 ing, led him to take up his abode with Mr. Raeburn, the 
 nurseryman of Stockdove Lane. 
 
 It was his habit every afternoon, after lie had worked 
 seven or eight hours on St. Ambrose or St. Chrysostom, 
 to walk for a while in meditation among the roses. 
 And this was usually one of the most productive 
 moments of his day. But even a sincere appetite for 
 thought, and the excitement of grave problems await- 
 ing solution, are not always suffii ient to preserve the 
 mind of the philosopher against the pett) shocks and 
 contai ts of the world. And when Mr. Rolles found 
 ral Vandeleur's secretary, ragged and bleeding, 
 in the company of the landlord; when he saw both 
 olor and seek to avoid his questions; and, 
 above all, when the former denied his own identity 
 with the most unmoved assurance, he speedily forgot 
 the Saints and Fathers in the vulgar interest of curiosity. 
 116
 
 THE RAJAH'S DIA MOND. 1 1 7 
 
 " I cannot be mistaken," thought he. " That is Mr. 
 Hartley beyond a doubt. How comes he in such a 
 pickle ? why does he deny his name ? and what can be his 
 business with that black-looking ruffian, my landlord ? " 
 
 As he was thus reflecting, another peculiar circum- 
 stance attracted his attention. The face of Mr. Rae- 
 burn appeared at a low window next the door ; and, as 
 chance directed, his eyes met those of Mr. Rolles. 
 The nurseryman seemed disconcerted, and even 
 alarmed ; and immediately after the blind of the apart- 
 ment was pulled sharply down. 
 
 " This may all be very well," reflected Mr. Rolles; 
 " it may be all excellently well; but I confess freely 
 that I do not think so. Suspicious, underhand, untruth- 
 ful, fearful of observation — I believe upon my soul," 
 he thought, " the pair are plotting some disgraceful 
 action." 
 
 The detective that there is in all of us awoke and 
 became clamant in the bosom of Mr. Rolles; and with 
 a brisk, eager step, that bore no resemblance to his 
 usual gait, he proceeded to make the circuit of the 
 garden. When he came to the scene of Harry's esca- 
 lade, his eye was at once arrested by a broken rosebud 
 and marks of trampling on the mole. He looked 
 up, and saw scratches on the brick, and a rag of trouser 
 floating from a broken bottle. This, then, was the 
 mode of entrance chosen by Mr. Raeburn's particular 
 friend ! It was thus that General Vandeleur's secre- 
 tary came to admire a flower-garden ! The young 
 clergyman whistled softly to himself as he stooped to 
 examine the ground. He could make out where 
 Hany had landed from his perilous leap; he recog- 
 nized the flat foot of Mr. Raeburn where it had sunk 
 deeply in the soil as he pulled up the Secretary by the 
 collar; nay, on a closer inspection, he seemed to dis- 
 tinguish the marks of groping fingers, as though some- 
 thing had been spilt abroad and eagerly collected. 
 
 "Upon my word," be thought, " the thing grows 
 vastly interesting."
 
 tiS V ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 \'ul just then he caught sight <>f something almoin 
 entirely buried in the earth. In an instant he had dis- 
 interred a dainty morocco case, ornamented and 
 i gilt It had been trodden heavily under 
 foot, and thus escaped the hurried sear< h of Mr. Rae- 
 burn. Mr. Rolles opened the case, and drew a ; 
 breath of almost horrified astonishment; for there lay 
 re him, in a cradle of green velvet, a diamond of 
 prodigious magnitude and of the finest water. [| 
 
 i of a duck's egg; beautifully shaped, and 
 without a flaw; and as the sun shone upon it, it gave 
 forth a lustre like that of electricity, and seemed to 
 burn in his hand with a thousand internal fires. 
 
 He knew little of precious stones; but the Rajah's 
 Diamond was a wonder that explained itself; a village 
 child, if he found it, would run screaming for the near- 
 (ttage; and a savage would prostrate himself in 
 adoration before so imposing a fetish. The beauty 
 of the stone flattered the young clergyman's eyes; the 
 thought of its incalculable value overpowered his intel- 
 lect. He knew that what he held in his hand was 
 wot tli more thin many years' purchase of an archie- 
 piscopal see; that it would build cathedrals more 
 stately than Ely or Cologne; that he who possessed it 
 set free for ever from the primal curse, and might 
 follow his own inclinations without concern or hurry, 
 without let or hindrance. And as he suddenly turned 
 it, the rays leaped forth again with renewed brilliancy, 
 and seemed to pierce his very heart. 
 
 Decisive actions are often taken in a moment and 
 without any conscious deliverance from the rational 
 of man. So it v. with Mr. Rolles. lie- 
 
 glanced hurriedly round; beheld, like Mr. Raeburn 
 re him, nothing but the sunlit llower-garden, the 
 tall tree-tops, and the house with blinded windows ; and 
 in a trice he had shut the case, thrust it into his pocket, 
 and was hastening to his study with the speed of guilt. 
 The Reverend Simon Rolles had stolen the Rajah's 
 . md.
 
 THE RAJAH'S DIAMOND. 1 19 
 
 Early in the afternoon the police arrived with Harry 
 Hartley. The nurseryman, who was beside himself 
 with terror, readily discovered his hoard; and the 
 jewels were identified and inventoried in the presence 
 of the Secretary. As for Mr. Rolles, he showed him- 
 self in a most obliging temper, communicated what he 
 knew with freedom, and professed regret that he could 
 do no more to help the officers in their duty. 
 
 " Still," he added, " I suppose your business is 
 nearly at an end." 
 
 " By no means," replied the man from Scotland 
 Yard; and he narrated the second robbery of which 
 Harry had been the immediate victim, and gave the 
 young clergyman a description of the more important 
 jewels that were still not found, dilating particularly 
 on the Rajah's Diamond. 
 
 " It must be worth a fortune," observed Mr. Rolles. 
 
 " Ten fortunes — twenty fortunes," cried the officer. 
 
 " The more it is worth," remarked Simon, shrewdly, 
 "the more difficult it must be to sell. Such a thing 
 has a physiognomy not to be disguised, and I should 
 fancy a man might as easily negotiate St. Paul's 
 Cathedral." 
 
 " Oh, truly ! " said the officer; " but if the thief be a 
 man of any intelligence, he will cut it into three or 
 four, and there will be still enough to make him rich." 
 
 '"Thank you," said the clergyman. "You cannot 
 imagine how much your conversation interests me." 
 
 Whereupon the functionary admitted that they knew 
 many strange things in his profession, and immediately 
 after took his leave. 
 
 Mr. Rolles regained his apartment. It seemed 
 smaller and barer than usual; the materials for his 
 great work had never presented so little interest; and 
 he looked upon his library with the eye of scorn. He 
 took down, volume by volume, several Fathers of the 
 Church, and glanced them through; but they contained 
 nothing to his purpose. 
 
 " These old gentlemen," thought he, " are no doubt
 
 izo .\7 W ARABIAN XI CUTS. 
 
 very valuable writers, but they seem to me conspicu- 
 t of life. Here am I, with learning 
 a Bishop, am! I positively do not know 
 n diamond. I glean a hint 
 on policeman, and, with all my folios, I 
 much as put it into execution. This inspires 
 with very low ideas "i University training." 
 1 [< rewith he kicked over his book-shelf and, putting 
 on his hat, hastened from the house to the club of 
 which he was a member. In such a place of mundane 
 r< sort he hoped to find seme man of good counsel and 
 a shrewd experience in lite. In the reading-room he 
 many of the country clergy and an Archdeacon; 
 there were three journalists and a writer upon the 
 Higher Metaphysic, playing pool; and at dinner only 
 the raff of ordinary club frequenters showed their 
 common-place and obliterated countenances. None of 
 these, thought Mr. Rolles, would know more on dan- 
 US topics than lie knew himself; none of them »\ere 
 fit to give him guidance in his present strait. \t 
 length, in the smoking-room, up many weary stairs, he 
 hit upon a gentleman of somewhat portly build and 
 dressed with conspicuous plainness, lie was smoking 
 _.irand reading the Fortnightly Reviews his face 
 Angularly free from all sign of preoccupation or 
 fatigue; and there was something in his air which 
 med to invite confidence and to expect submission. 
 The more the young ( lergyman scrutinized his feat- 
 ure -, the more he was convinced that he had fallen on 
 one capable of giving pertinent ad\ i< 
 
 " - r," - : . hi-. "y< u will cm use my abruptness; but 
 I judge you from your appearam e to be preeminently 
 n of the world." 
 '"J have indeed con iderable claims to that distinc- 
 tion," replied the stranger, laying aside his magazine 
 with a look of mingled amusement and surprise. 
 
 "I, sir," continued the Curate, "am a recluse, a 
 student, a creature of ink-bottles and patristic folios. 
 A recent event has brought my folly vividly before my
 
 THE RAJAH'S DIAMOND. 121 
 
 eyes, and I desire to instruct myself in life. By life," 
 he added, " I do not mean Thackeray's novels; but the 
 crimes and secret possibilities of our society, and the 
 principles of wise conduct among exceptional events. 
 I am a patient reader; can the thing be learnt in 
 books ? " 
 
 " You put me in a difficulty," said the stranger. " I 
 confess I have no great notion of the use of books, 
 except to amuse a railway journey; although, I believe, 
 there are some very exact treatises on astronomy, the 
 use of the globes, agriculture, and the art of making 
 paper-flowers. Upon the less apparent provinces of 
 life I fear you will find nothing truthful. Yet stay," 
 he added, " have you read Gaboriau ? " 
 
 Mr. Rolles admitted he had never even heard the 
 name. 
 
 " You may gather some notions from Gaboriau/' 
 resumed the stranger. " He is at least suggestive; 
 and as he is an author much studied by Prince Bis- 
 marck, you will, at the worst, lose your time in good 
 society." 
 
 " Sir," said the Curate, " I am infinitely obliged by 
 your politeness." 
 
 " You have already more than repaid me," returned 
 the other. 
 
 " How ? " inquired Simon. 
 
 " By the novelty of your request," replied the gen- 
 tleman; and with a polite gesture, as though to ask 
 permission, he resumed the study of the Fortnightly 
 Revieiv. 
 
 On his way home Mr. Rolles purchased a work on 
 precious stones and several of Gaboriau's novels. 
 These last he eagerly skimmed until an advanced hour 
 in the morning; but although they introduced him to 
 many new ideas, he could nowhere discover what to do 
 with a stolen diamond. He was annoyed, moreover, 
 to find the information scattered amongst romantic 
 story-telling, instead of soberly set forth after the 
 manner of a manual; and he concluded that, even if
 
 122 ■:■ ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 the writer had thought much upon these subjects, he 
 
 totally l.uking m educational method. For the 
 
 character and attainments e»l Le< oq, however, he was 
 
 unabl lin his admiration. 
 
 "He was truly a great creature," ruminated Mr. 
 
 RolK - "He knew the world as I know Pal 
 l lences. There was nothing that he could not ( :rry 
 to a termination with his own hand, and against the 
 ;ds. Heavens ! " he broke out suddenly, " is 
 not this the lesson ? Must I not learn to cut diamonds 
 for myself ! " 
 
 It seemed to him as if he had sailed at once out of 
 his perplexities; he remembered that he knew a jew- 
 eller, one B. Macculloch, in Edinburgh, who would lie 
 glad to put him in the way of the necessary training; 
 a few months, perhaps a few years, of sordid toil, and 
 he would be sufficiently expert to divide and suffi- 
 ciently cunning to dispose with advantage of the Ra- 
 jah's Diamond. That done, he might return to pursue 
 his researches at leisure, a wealthy and luxurious stu- 
 dent, envied and respected by all. Golden visions 
 attended him through his slumber, and he awoke 
 refreshed and light-hearted with the morning sun. 
 
 Mr. Raeburn's house was on that day to be closed 
 by the police, and this afforded a pretext for his 
 departure. He cheerfully prepared his baggage, trans- 
 ported it to King's Cross, where he left it in the cloak- 
 room, and returned to the club to while away the after- 
 noon and dine. 
 
 "If you dine here to-day, Rolles," observed an 
 acquaintance, "you may see two of the most remark- 
 able men in England — Prince Florizel of Bohemia, 
 and old Jack Vandeleur." 
 
 " I have heard of the Prince," replied Mr. Rolles; 
 "and General Vandeleur I have even met in society." 
 
 " General Vandeleur is an ass! " returned the other. 
 " This is his brother John, the biggest adventurer, the 
 best judge of precious stones, and one of the most 
 acute diplomatists in Europe. Have you never heard
 
 THE RA J AII'S DIAMOND. 1 2$ 
 
 ot his duel with the Due de Val d'Orge? of his 
 exploits and atrocities when he was Dictator of Para- 
 guay ? of his dexterity in recovering Sir Samuel Levy's 
 jewelry ? nor of his services in the Indian Mutiny — 
 services by which the Government profited, but which 
 the Government dared not recognize? You make me 
 wonder what we mean by fame, or even by infamy; 
 for Jack Vandeleur has prodigious claims to both. 
 Run down stairs," he continued, " take a table near 
 them, and keep your ears open. You will hear some 
 strange talk, or I am much misled." 
 
 " But how shall I know them ? " inquired the cler- 
 gyman. 
 
 " Know them ! " cried his friend; " why, the Prince 
 is the finest gentleman in Europe, the only living crea- 
 ture who looks like a king; and as for Jack Vande- 
 leur, if you can imagine Ulysses at seventy years of 
 age, and with a sabre-cut across his face, you have the 
 man before you ! Know them, indeed ! Why, you 
 could pick either of them out of a Derby day! " 
 
 Rolles eagerly hurried to the dining-room. It was 
 as his friend had asserted; it was impossible to mis- 
 take the pair in question. Old John Vandeleur was 
 of remarkable force of body, and obviously broken to 
 the most difficult exercises. He had neither the car- 
 riage of a swordsman, nor of a sailor, nor yet of one 
 much inured to the saddle; but something made up of 
 all these, and the result and expression of many dif- 
 ferent habits and dexterities. His features were bold 
 and aquiline; his expression arrogant and predatory; 
 his whole appearance that of a swift, violent, unscru- 
 pulous man of action; and his copious white hair and 
 the deep sabre-cut that traversed his nose and temple 
 added a note of savagery to a head already remarka- 
 ble and menacing in itself. 
 
 In his companion, the Prince of Bohemia, Mr. 
 Rolles was astonished to recognize the gentleman who 
 had recommended him the study of Gaboriau. Doubt- 
 less Prince Florizel, who rarely visited the club, of
 
 i -• ; .\7 //• ARABIAN NIGHTS, 
 
 which, as of most others, he was an honorary membi r, 
 had been waiting for John Vandeleur when Simon 
 isted him mi the previous evening. 
 The other diners had modestly retired into the 
 anglesof the room, and left the distinguished pair in a 
 in isolation, but the young < lergyman was unre- 
 strained by any sentiment of awe, and, inarching Up, 
 at the nearest table. 
 
 The conversation was, indeed, new to the student's 
 
 The ex-Dictator of Paraguay stated many 
 
 extraordinary experiences in different quarters of the 
 world; and the Prince supplied a commentary which, 
 to a man of thought, was even more interesting than 
 the events themselves. Two forms of experience were 
 thus brought together and laid before the young cler- 
 gyman; and he did not know which to admire the 
 most — the desperate actor or the skilled expert in life; 
 the man who spoke boidly of his own deeds and perils, 
 or the man who seemed, like a god, to know all things 
 and to have suffered nothing. The manner of each 
 aptly fitted with his part in the discourse. The Dicta- 
 tor indulged in brutalities alike of speech and gesture; 
 his hand opened and shut and fell roughly on the table; 
 and hjs voice was loud and heady. The Prince, on 
 the other hand, seemed the very type of urbane docil- 
 ity and quiet; the least movement, the least inflection, 
 had with him a weightier significance than all the 
 shouts and pantomime of his companion; and if ever, 
 as must frequently have been the case, he described 
 som nee personal to himself, it was so aptly 
 
 dissimulated as to pass unnoticed with the rest. 
 
 At length the talk wandered on to the late robberies 
 and I h's Diamond. 
 
 " That diamond would be better in the sea," 
 Mori/el. 
 
 "As a Vandeleur," replied the Dictator, "your High- 
 may imagine my dissent." 
 
 " 1 speak on grounds of public policy," pursued the 
 Prin vels so valuable should be reserved for
 
 THE RAJAH'S DIAMOND. 125 
 
 the collection of a Prince or the treasury of a great 
 nation. To hand them about among the common 
 sort of men is to set a price on Virtue's head; and if 
 the Rajah of Kashgar — a Prince, I understand, of 
 great enlightenment — desired vengeance upon the men 
 of Europe, he could hardly have gone more effica- 
 ciously about his purpose than by sending us this 
 apple of discord. There is no honesty too robust for 
 such a trial. I myself, who have many duties and 
 privileges of my own — I myself, Mr. Vandaleur, could 
 scarcely handle the intoxicating crystal and be safe. 
 As for you, who are a diamond-hunter by taste and 
 profession, I do not believe there is a crime in the 
 calendar you would not perpetrate — I do not believe 
 you have a friend in the world whom you would not 
 eagerly betray — I do not know if you have a family, 
 but if you have I declare you would sacrifice your 
 children — and all this for what? Not to be richer, 
 nor to have more comforts or more respect, but 
 simply to call this diamond yours for a year or two 
 until you die, and now and again to open a safe and 
 look at it as one looks at a picture." 
 
 " It is true," replied Vandeleur. " I have hunted 
 most things, from men and women down to mosqui- 
 tos; I have dived for coral; I have followed both 
 whales and tigers; and a diamond is the tallest 
 quarry of the lot. It has beauty and worth; it alone 
 can properly reward the ardors of the chase. At 
 this moment, as your Highness may fancy, I am 
 upon the trail; I have a sure knack, a wide expe- 
 rience ; I know every stone of price in my brother's 
 collection as a shepherd knows his sheep; and I 
 wish I may die if I do not recover them every 
 one ! " 
 
 "Sir Thomas Vandeleur will have great cause to 
 thank you," said the Prince. 
 
 "I am not so sure," returned the Dictator, with a 
 laugh. "One of the Vandeleurs will. Thomas or 
 John — Peter or Paul — we are all apostles."
 
 i • NEW ARAB1 i V IWGffTS, 
 
 "I did not cat« h your observation," said the Prince 
 with some disgust. 
 
 And at the same moment the waiter informed Mr. 
 Vandeleur that Ids cab w.is at the door. 
 
 Mi. Rolles glanced at the clock, and saw that he 
 also must be moving; and the coincidence struck 
 him sharply and unpleasantly, tor he desired to see 
 no more of the diamond hunter. 
 
 Much study having somewhat shaken the young 
 man's nerves, he was in the habit of traveling in the 
 most luxurious manner; and for the present journey 
 1 taken a sofa in the sleeping carriage. 
 
 " You will be very comfortable," said the guard; 
 "there is no one in your compartment, and only one 
 old gentleman in the other end." 
 
 It was close upon the hour, and the tickets were 
 being examined, when Mr. Rolles beheld this other 
 fellow-passenger ushered by several porters into his 
 place; certainly, there was not another man in the 
 world whom he would not have preferred — for it 
 Id John Vandeleur, the ex-Dictator. 
 
 The sleeping carriages on the Great Northern line 
 were divided into three compartments — one at each 
 end for travelers, and one in the centre fitted with 
 the conveniences of a lavatory. A door running in 
 grooves separated each of the others from the lava- 
 tory; but as there were neither bolts nor locks, the 
 whole suite was practically common ground. 
 
 When Mr. Rolles had studied his position, he per- 
 ceived himself without defence. If the Dictator chose 
 to pay him a visit in the course of the night, he 
 could do no less than receive it; he had no means of 
 fortification, and lay open to attack as if he had been 
 lying in the fields. This situation caused him some 
 agony of mind. He recalled with alarm the boastful 
 statements of his fellow-traveler across the dining- 
 table, and the professions of immorality which he had 
 I him offering to the disgusted Prince. Some 
 persons, he remembered to have read, are endowed
 
 THE RA J A H ' S DIA MO YD. 1 2 7 
 
 with a singular quickness of perception for the neigh- 
 borhood of precious metals; through walls and even 
 at considerable distances they are said to divine the 
 presence of gold. Might it not be the same with 
 diamonds ? he wondered; and if so, who was more 
 likely to enjoy this transcendental sense than the per- 
 son who gloried in the appellation of the Diamond 
 Hunter ? From such a man he recognized that he 
 had everything to fear, and longed eagerly for the arri- 
 val of the day. 
 
 In the meantime he neglected no precaution, con- 
 cealed his diamond in the most internal pocket of a 
 system of great coats, and devoutly recommended 
 himself to the care of Providence. 
 
 The train pursued its usual even and rapid course; 
 and nearly half the journey had been accomplished 
 before slumber began to triumph over uneasiness in 
 the breast of Mr. Rolles. For some time he resisted 
 its influence; but it grew upon him more and more, 
 and a little before York he was fain to stretch him- 
 self upon one of the couches and suffer his eyes to 
 close; and almost at the same instant consciousness 
 deserted the young clergyman. His last thought was 
 of his terrifying neighbor. 
 
 When he awoke it was still pitch dark, except for the 
 flicker of the veiled lamp ; and the continual roaring 
 and oscillation testified to the unrelaxed velocity of the 
 train. He sat upright in a panic, for he had been tor- 
 mented by the most uneasy dreams ; it was some 
 seconds before he recovered his self-command ; and 
 even after he had resumed a recumbent attitude sleep 
 continued to flee him, and he lay awake with his brain 
 in a state of violent agitation, and his eyes fixed upon 
 the lavatory door. He pulled his clerical felt hat over 
 his brow still farther to shield him from the light ; and 
 he adopted the usual expedients, such as counting a 
 thousand or banishing thought, by which experienced 
 invalids are accustomed to woo the approach of sleep. 
 In the case of Mr. Rolles they proved one and all
 
 i-S V AK.ilU. IX NIGHTS. 
 
 vain ; he was harassed by a dozen different anxieties — • 
 
 the old man in the other end of the carriage haunted 
 him in the most alarming shapes; and in whatever atti- 
 tude he chose to lie the diamond in his pocket occa- 
 sioned him a sensible physical distress. It burned, it 
 . it bruised his ribs ; and there were infini- 
 second in which he had half a 
 mind to throw it from the window. 
 
 While he was thus lying, a strange incident took 
 
 : 
 
 The sliding-door into the lavatory stirred a little, 
 and then a little more, and was finally drawn back for 
 the space of about twenty inches. The lamp in the 
 lavatory was unshaded, and in the lighted aperture 
 thus disclosed, Mr. Rolles could see the head of .Mr. 
 Yandeleur in an attitude of deep attention. He was 
 conscious that the gaze of the Dictator rested intently 
 on his own face ; and the instinct of self-preservation 
 moved him to hold his breath, to refrain from the least 
 movement, and keeping his eyes lowered, to watch his 
 visitor from underneath the lashes. After about a 
 moment, the head was withdrawn and the door of the 
 lavatory replai 
 
 The Dictator had not come to attack, but to observe; 
 his action was not that of a man threatening another, 
 but that of a man who was himself threatened; if Mr. 
 Rolles was afraid of him, it appeared that he, in his 
 turn, was not quite easy on the score of Mr. Rolles. He 
 had come, it would seem, to make sure that his only 
 fellow-traveler was asleep ; and, when satisfied on that 
 point, he had at once withdrawn. 
 
 The clergyman leaped to his feet The extreme of 
 terror had given {dace to a reaction of foolhardy daring. 
 He reflected that the rattle of the Hying train concealed 
 all other sounds, and determined, come what might, to 
 return the visit he had just received. Divesting him- 
 self of his cloak, which might have interfered with the 
 lom of his action, he entered the lavatory and 
 paused to listen. As he had expected, there was noth-
 
 THE RAJ A IPS DIAMOND. 1 29 
 
 ing to be heard above the roar of the train's progress ; 
 and laying his hand on the door at the farther side, he 
 proceeded cautiously to draw it back for about six 
 inches. Then he stopped, and could not contain an 
 ejaculation of surprise. 
 
 John Vandeleur wore a fur traveling cap with lap- 
 pets to protect his ears ; and this may have combined 
 with the sound of the express to keep him in ignorance 
 of what was going forward. It is certain, at least, 
 that he did not raise his head, but continued without 
 interruption to pursue his strange employment. Between 
 his feet stood an open hat-box; in one hand he held the 
 sleeve of his sealskin greatcoat; in the other a formid- 
 able knife, with which he had just slit up the lining 
 of the sleeve. Mr. Rolles had read of persons carry- 
 ing money in a belt ; and as he had no acquaintance 
 with any but cricket-belts, he had never been able 
 rightly to conceive how this was managed. But here 
 was a stranger thing before his eyes ; for John Vande- 
 leur, it appeared, carried diamonds in the lining of his 
 sleeve; and even as the young clergyman gazed, he 
 could see one glittering brilliant drop after another into 
 the hat-box. 
 
 He stood riveted to the spot, following this unusual 
 business with his eyes. The diamonds were, for the 
 most part, small, and not easily distinguishable either 
 in' shape or fire. Suddenly the Dictator appeared to 
 find a difficulty; he employed both hands and stooped 
 over his task ; but it was not until after considerable 
 manoeuvring that he extricated a large tiara of dia- 
 monds from the lining, and held it up for some seconds' 
 examination before he placed it with the others in the 
 hat-box. The tiara was a ray of light to Mr. Rolles ; 
 he immediately recognized it for a part of the treasure 
 stolen from Harry Hartley by the loiterer. There was 
 no room for mistake ; it was exactly as the detective 
 had described it ; there were the ruby stars, with a 
 great emerald in the centre; there were the interlacing 
 crescents ; and there were the pear-shaped pendants,
 
 13° ■•' ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 each .1 single stone, which gave a spe< i.il value to Lady 
 Vandeleur's tiara. 
 
 Mr. Rolles was hugely relieved. The Dictator was 
 
 •.■p!v in the affair ;h he was; neither could tell 
 upon the other. In the fust glow of happii 
 the ' red a deep sigh to es< ape him; 
 
 . - his bosom had b i boked and his throat 
 
 dry during his previous suspense, the sigh was followed) 
 by 
 
 Mr. Vandeleur looked up; his face contracted with 
 the blackest and most deadly passion; his eyes opened 
 widely, and his under jaw dropped in an astonishment 
 that was upon the brink of fury. By an instinctive 
 movement he had covered the hatd>ox with the coat. 
 For half a minute the two men stared upon each other 
 in silence. It was not a long interval, but it sufficed 
 for Mr. Rolles; he was one of those who think swiftly 
 on dangerous occasions; he decided on a course of 
 action of a singularly daring nature; and although he- 
 felt he was setting his life upon the hazard, he was the 
 fir>t to break silo. 
 
 " 1 : _ your pardon," said he. 
 
 The Dictator shivered slightly, and when he spoke 
 his voice was hoar 
 
 " What do you want here ?" he asked. 
 
 " I take a particular interest in diamonds," replied 
 Mr. [Holies, with an air of perfect self-possession. 
 " Two connoisseurs sTiould be acquainted. I have here 
 a trifle of my own which may perhaps serve for an 
 introduction." 
 
 And so saying, he quietly took the case from his 
 | . et, showed the Rajah's Diamond to the Dictator 
 for an instant, and replaced it in security. 
 
 " It was once your brother's," he added. 
 
 'John Vandeleur continued to regard him with a look 
 of -almost painful amazement; but he neither spoke 
 nor moved. 
 
 " I was pleased to observe," resumed the young man, 
 "that we have gems from the same collection."
 
 THE RAJ AWS DIAMOND. 131 
 
 The Dictator's surprise overpowered him. 
 
 " I beg your pardon," he said; " I begin to perceive 
 that I am growing old ! I am positively not prepared 
 for little incidents like this. But set my mind at rest 
 upon one point: do my eyes deceive me, or are you 
 indeed a parson ? " 
 
 " I am in holy orders," answered Mr. Rolles. 
 
 " Well," cried the other, " as long as I live I will 
 never hear another word against the cloth ! " 
 
 " You flatter me," said Mr. Rolles. 
 
 " Pardon me," replied Vandeleur; " pardon me, 
 young man. You are no coward, but it still remains 
 to be seen whether you are not the worst of fools. 
 Perhaps," he continued, leaning back upon his seat, 
 " perhaps you would oblige me with a few particulars. 
 I must suppose you had some object in the stupefying 
 impudence of your proceedings, and I confess I have 
 a curiosity to know it." 
 
 " It is very simple," replied the clergyman; " it pro- 
 ceeds from my great inexperience of life." 
 
 " I shall be glad to be persuaded," answered Van- 
 deleur. 
 
 Whereupon Mr. Rolles told him the whole story of 
 his connection with the Rajah's Diamond, from the 
 time he found it in Raeburn's garden to the time when 
 he left London in the Flying Scotchman. He added 
 a brief sketch of his feelings and thoughts during the 
 journey, and concluded in these words: — 
 
 " When I recognized the tiara I knew we were in 
 the same attitude towards Society, and this inspired 
 me with a hope, which I trust you will say was not ill- 
 founded, that you might become in some sense my 
 partner in the difficulties and, of course, the profits of 
 my situation. To one of your special knowledge and 
 obviously great experience the negotiation of the dia- 
 mond would give but little trouble, while to me it was 
 a matter of impossibility. On the other part, I judged 
 that I might lose nearly as much by cutting the dia- 
 mond, and that not improbably with an unskilful hand,
 
 i.;: W ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 ns might enable me to pay you with proper generoi ity 
 
 our assistance. The subject was a delicate one 
 
 roach; and perhaps I fell short in delicacy. But 
 
 1 must ask you to remember that for me the situation 
 
 a new one, and 1 was entirely unacquainted with 
 
 the etiquette in use. 1 believe without vanity that I 
 
 could have married or baptized j ou in a very a< i epta- 
 
 ble manner; but every man has his own aptitudes, and 
 
 this sort m was not among the list of my 
 
 mplishments." 
 
 "I do not wish to flatter you," replied Vandeleur; 
 
 "but upon my word, you have an unusual disposition 
 
 for a life of crime. You have more accomplishments 
 
 than you imagine; and though 1 have encountered a 
 
 number of rogues in different quarters of the world, f 
 
 never met with one so unblushing as yourself. Cheer 
 
 up, Mr. Rolles, you are in the right profession at last ! 
 
 A^ for helping you, you may command me as you will. 
 
 I have only a day's business in Edinburgh on a little 
 
 matter for my brother; and once that is concluded, I 
 
 return to Paris, where 1 usually reside. If you please, 
 
 may accompany me thither. And before the end 
 
 of a month I believe I shall have brought your little 
 
 business to a satisfactory conclusion." 
 
 {At this point, contrary to all the canons of his art, our 
 Arabian Author breaks off the Story of the Yoi NG 
 Man in Holy Orders. / regret and condemn such 
 practices ; but I must follow my original, and refer the 
 reader for the conclusion of Mr. Rolles's adventures to 
 the next number of the cycle, the Story of the House 
 with the Green Blin] i
 
 THE STORY OF THE HOUSE WITH THE 
 GREEN BLINDS. 
 
 Francis Scrymgeour, a clerk in the Bank of Scot- 
 land at Edinburgh, had attained the age of twenty-five 
 in a sphere of quiet, creditable, and domestic life. 
 His mother died while he was young; but his father, a 
 man of sense and probity, had given him an excellent 
 education at school, and brought him up at home to 
 orderly and frugal habits. Francis, who was of a 
 docile and affectionate disposition, profited by these 
 advantages with zeal, and devoted himself heart and 
 soul to his employment. A walk upon Saturday after- 
 noon, an occasional dinner with members of his family, 
 and a yearly tour of a fortnight in the Highlands or 
 even on the continent of Europe, were his principal 
 distractions, and he grew rapidly in favor with his 
 superiors, and enjoyed already a salary of nearly two 
 hundreds pounds a year, with the prospect of an ulti- 
 mate advance to almost double that amount. Few 
 young men were more contented, few more willing and 
 laborious than Francis Scrymgeour. Sometimes at 
 night, when he had read the daily paper, he would play 
 upon the flute to amuse his father, for whose qualities 
 he entertained a great respect. 
 
 One day he received a note from a well-known firm 
 of Writers to the Signet, requesting the favor of an 
 immediate interview with him. The latter was marked 
 " Private and Confidential," and had been addressed 
 to him at the bank, instead of at home — two unusual 
 circumstances which made him obey the summons with 
 the more alacrity. The senior member of the firm, a 
 man of much austerity of manner, made him gravely 
 welcome, requested him to take a seat, and proceeded 
 133
 
 i/>4 NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 to explain the matter in hand in the picked expressions 
 of a veteran man of business. A person, who must 
 remain nameless, but of whom the lawyer had i 
 
 • n to think well — a man, in short, ot some station 
 in the country — desired to make Fran< is an annual 
 allowance of five hundred pounds. The capital was to 
 be placed under the control o( the lawyer's firm and 
 two trustees who must also remain anonymous. There 
 were conditions annexed to this liberality, but- he was 
 of opinion that his new client would find nothing either 
 excessive or dishonorable in the terms; and he repi li d 
 these two words with emphasis, as though he desired to 
 commit himself to nothing more. 
 
 Francis asked their nature. 
 
 " The conditions," said the Writer to the Signet, 
 "are, as I have twice remarked, neither dishonorable 
 nor excessive. At the same time I cannot conceal from 
 you that they are most unusual. Indeed, the whole 
 case is very much out of our way; and I should cer- 
 tainly have refused it had it not been for the reputa- 
 tion of the gentleman who entrusted it to my care, and, 
 kt me add, Mr. Scrymgeour, the interest I have been 
 led to take in yourself by many complimentary and, I 
 have no doubt, well-deserved reports." 
 
 Francis entreated him to be more specific. 
 
 " You connot picture my uneasiness as to these con- 
 ditions," he said. 
 
 " They are two," replied the lawyer "only two; and 
 the sum, as you will remember, is five hundred a year 
 — and unburthened, I forgot to add, unburdened." 
 
 And the lawyer raised his eyebrows at him with 
 [ 
 
 " 'J he first," he resumed, " is of remarkable simpli- 
 city. You must be in Paris by the afternoon of Sun- 
 day, the 15th; there you v/ill find, at the box-office of 
 the Comedie Francaise, a ticket for admission taken in 
 your name and waiting you. You are requested to sit 
 out the whole performance in the seat provided, and 
 that is all."
 
 THE RAJ AIFS DIAMOND. 135 
 
 " I should certainly have preferred a week-day, 
 replied Francis. " But, after all, once in a way " 
 
 "And in Paris, my dear sir," added the lawyer, 
 soothingly. " I believe I am something of a precisian 
 myself, but upon such a consideration, and in Paris, 
 I should not hesitate an instant." 
 
 And the pair laughed pleasantly together. 
 
 " The other is of more importance," continued the 
 Writer to the Signet. "It regards your marriage. My 
 client, taking a deep interest in your welfare, desires 
 to advise you absolutely in the choice of a wite. 
 Absolutely, you understand," he repeated. 
 
 " Let us be more explicit, if you please," returned 
 Francis. " Am I to marry anyone, maid or widow, 
 black or white, whom this invisible person chooses to 
 propose ?" 
 
 " I was to assure you that suitability of age and 
 position should be a principle with your benefactor," 
 replied the lawyer. "As to race, I confess the diffi- 
 culty had not occurred to me, and I failed to inquire; 
 but if you like I will make a note of it at once, and 
 advise you on the earliest opportunity." 
 
 " Sir," said Francis, " it remains to be seen whether 
 this whole affair is not a most unworthy fraud. The 
 circumstances are inexplicable — I had almost said 
 incredible; and until I see a little more daylight, and 
 some plausible motive, I confess I should be very sorry 
 to put a hand to the transaction. I appeal to you in 
 this difficulty for information. I must learn what is at 
 the bottom of it all. If you do not know, cannot 
 guess, or are not at liberty to tell me, I shall, lake my 
 hat and go back to my bank as I came." 
 
 " I do not know," answered the lawyer, " but I have 
 an excellent guess. Your father, and no one else, is 
 at the root of this apparently unnatural business." 
 
 "My father!" cried Francis, in extreme disdain. 
 " Worthy man, I know every thought of his mind, 
 every penny of his fortune ! " 
 
 'You misinterpret my words," said the lawyer. "I
 
 //'.v. 
 
 do not refer to Mr. Scrymgeour, i r; for he is not 
 your father. When he ■ ife came to Edinburgh, 
 
 already nearly on ; . and you had not 
 
 • an e months in I The se< ret has 
 
 been well kept; but such is the fai t. Your father is 
 unknown, and I say again that I believe him to be the 
 il of the offers 1 am charged at present to trans- 
 mit to you." 
 
 It would be impossible to exaggerate the astonish- 
 ment of Francis Scrymgeour at this unexpected infor- 
 mation. He pleaded this confusion to the lawyer. 
 
 " Mr," said he, "after a piece of news so startling, 
 you must grant me some hours for thought. You shall 
 know this evening what conclusion I have reached." 
 
 The lawyer commended his prudence; and Francis, 
 excusing himself upon some pretext at the bank, took 
 a long walk into the country, and fully considered the 
 different steps and aspects of the case. A pleasant 
 
 • of his own importance rendered him the I 
 deliberate; but the issue was from the first not doubt- 
 ful. His whole carnal man leaned irresistibly towards 
 the five hundred a year, and the strange conditions 
 with which it was burdened; he discovered in his heart 
 an invincible repugnance to the name of Scrymgeour, 
 which he had never hitherto disliked; he began to 
 the narrow and unromantic interest of his 
 former life; and when once his mind was fairly made 
 up, hewalked with anew feeling of strength and freedom, 
 and nourished himself with the gayest anticipal 
 
 He said but a word to the lawyer, and immediately 
 received a check for two quarters' arrears; fo 
 allowance was ante-dated from the first of January. 
 With this in his pocket, he walked home. The Hal in 
 mean in his eyes ; his nostrils. 
 for the first lime, rebelled against the odor of broth: 
 and he observed little defects of manner in his adop- 
 tive father which filled him with surprise and almost 
 with disgust. The next day, he determined, should 
 im on his w iv to Paris.
 
 THE RAJAH'S DIAMOND. 137 
 
 In that city, where he arrived long before the 
 appointed date, he put up at a modest hotel frequented 
 by English and Italians, and devoted himself to 
 improvement in the French tongue; for this purpose 
 he had a master twice a week, entered into conversa- 
 tion with loiterers in the Champs Elysees, and nightly 
 frequented the theatre. He had his whole toilette 
 fashionably renewed; and was shaved and had his hair 
 dressed every morning by a barber in a neighboring 
 street. This gave him something of a foreign air, and 
 seemed to wipe off the reproach of his past years. 
 
 At length, on the Saturday afternoon, he betook 
 himself to the box-office of the theatre in the Rue 
 Richelieu. No sooner had he mentioned his name 
 than the clerk produced the order in an envelope of 
 which the address was scarcely dry. 
 
 " It has been taken this moment," said the clerk. 
 
 "Indeed!" said Francis. "May I ask what the 
 gentleman was like ?" 
 
 " Your friend is easy to describe," replied the 
 official. " He is old and strong and beautiful, with 
 white hair and a sabre-cut across his face. You can- 
 not fail to recognize so marked a person." 
 
 " No, indeed," returned Francis ; "and I thank you 
 for your politeness." 
 
 " He cannot yet be far distant," added the clerk. 
 "If you make haste you might still overtake him." 
 
 Francis did not wait to be twice told ; he ran pre- 
 cipitately from the theatre into the middle of the street 
 and looked in all directions. More than one white- 
 haired man was within sight ; but though he overtook 
 each of them in succession, all wanted the sabre-cut. 
 For nearly half-an-hour he tried one street after 
 another in the neighborhood, until at length, recogniz- 
 ing the folly of continued search, he started on a walk 
 to compose his agitated feelings ; for this proximity of 
 an encounter with him to whom he could not doubt 
 he owed the day had profoundly moved the young 
 man.
 
 138 •" ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 It chanced that his way lay up the Rue Drouot and 
 thence up the Rue des Martyrs; and chance, in this 
 . served him bettei than all the forethought in the 
 world. For on the outer boulevard he saw two men 
 i:i earnest colloquy upon a seat. Onewasdark, young, 
 and handsome, secularly dressed, but with an indelible 
 il stamp ; the other answered in every particular 
 to the description given him by the clerk. Francis 
 felt his heart heat high in Ids bosom ; he knew he was 
 now about to hear the voice of his father ; and making 
 a wide circuit, he noiselessly took Ids place behind the 
 couple in question, who were too much interested in 
 their talk to observe much else. As Francis had 
 expected, the conversation was conducted in the Eng- 
 lish langu; 
 
 "Your suspicions begin to annoy me, Rolles," said 
 the older man. " I tell you I am doing my utmost ; 
 a man cannot lay his hand on millions in a moment. 
 Have I not taken you up, a mere stranger, out of 
 pure good will? Are you not living largely on my 
 bounty ?" 
 
 "On your advances, Mr. Vandeleur," corrected the 
 other. 
 
 "Advances, if you choose; and interest instead of 
 good-will, if you prefer it," returned Vandeleur, angrily. 
 
 I im not here to pick expressions. Business is busi- 
 ness ; and your business, let me remind you, is too 
 muddy for such airs. Trust me, or leave me alone and 
 find someone else ; but let us have an end, for God's 
 sake, of your jeremiads." 
 
 " 1 am beginning to learn the world," replied the 
 other, " and I see that you have every reason to play 
 me false, and not one to deal honestly. I am not here 
 to pick expressions either ; you wish the diamond for 
 yourself : you know you do — you dare not deny it. 
 Have you not already forged my name, and searched 
 my i' i my absence? I understand the cause 
 
 of your delays ; you are lying in wait ; you are the 
 diamonddumter, forsooth ; and sooner or later, by fair
 
 THE RAJAH'S DIAMOND. 139 
 
 means or foul, you'll lay your hands upon it. I tell 
 you, it must stop ; push me much further and I promise 
 you a surprise." 
 
 " It does not become you to use threats," returned 
 Vandeleur. " Two can play at that. My brother is 
 here in Paris ; the police are on the alert ; and if you 
 persist in wearying me with your caterwauling, I will 
 arrange a little astonishment for you, Mr. Rolles. But 
 mine shall be once and for all. Do you understand, or 
 would you prefer me to tell it 'you in Hebrew ? There 
 is an end to all things, and you have come to the end 
 of my patience. Tuesday, at seven ; not a day, not 
 an hour sooner, not the least part of a second, if it 
 were to save your life. And if you do not choose to 
 wait, you may go to the bottomless pit for me, and wel- 
 come." 
 
 And so saying, the Dictator arose from the bench, 
 and marched off in the direction of Montmartre, shak- 
 ing his head and swinging his cane with a most furious 
 air ; while his companion remained where he was, in. 
 an attitude of great dejection. 
 
 Francis was at the pitch of surprise and horror ; his 
 sentiments had been shocked to the last degree ; the 
 hopeful tenderness with which he had taken his place 
 upon the bench was transformed into repulsion and 
 despair ; old Mr. Scrymgeour, he reflected, was a far 
 more kindly and creditable parent than this dangerous 
 and violent intriguer ; but he retained his presence of 
 mind, and suffered not a moment to elapse before he 
 was on the trail of the Dictator. 
 
 That gentleman's fury carried him forward at a brisk 
 pace, and he was so completely occupied in his angry 
 thoughts that he never so much as cast a look behind 
 him till he reached his own door. 
 
 His house stood high up in the Rue Lepic, command- 
 ing a view of all Paris and enjoying the pure air of the 
 heights. It was two stories high, with green blinds and 
 shutters ; and all the windows looking on the street 
 were hermetically closed. Tops of trees showed over the
 
 i .jo W ARABIAN NIC! 
 
 garden wall, and the wall was prote< ted by 
 The 1 dictator paused a moment while 
 he searched his po< k t-t for a key ; and then, opening 
 a gate, disappeared within the enclosure. 
 
 Francis looked about him; the neighborhood was 
 
 the house isolated in its garden. It 
 seemed as it' his observation must here rome to an 
 
 abrupt end. A second glance, however, showed him a 
 
 tall house next door presenting a gable to the garden, 
 and in this gable a single window. lie passed to the 
 front and saw a ticket offering unfurnished lodgings 
 by the month ; and, on inquiry, the room which com- 
 manded the Dictator's garden proved to be one of 
 those to let. Francis did not hesitate a moment ; he 
 took the room, paid an advance upon the rent, and 
 returned to his hotel to seek his bagg 
 
 The old man with the sabre-cut might or might not 
 be his father ; he might or he might not lie on the 
 true scent ; but he was certainly on the edge of an 
 > ',n^ mystery, and he promised himself that he 
 v i relax his observation until he had got to the 
 
 bottom of the sec ret. 
 
 From the window of his new apartment Francis 
 Si rymgeour commanded a complete view into the gar- 
 den of the house with the green blinds. Immediately 
 below him a very comely chestnut with wide boughs 
 sheltered a pair of rustic tables where people might 
 dine in the height of summer. On all sides save one 
 a dense vegetation concealed the soil : but there, 
 between the tables and the house, he saw a patch of 
 gravel walk leading from the veranda to the garden- 
 gate. Studying the places from between the boards 
 of the Venetian shutter, which he durst not open for 
 fear of attracting attention, Francis observed but little 
 to indicate the manners of the inhabitants, and that 
 little argued no more than a close reserve and a taste 
 for solitude. The garden was conventual, the house 
 had the air of a prison. The green blinds were all 
 drawn down upon the outside ; the door into the ver-
 
 THE RA J A II ' S DIA MOND. 1 4 1 
 
 anda was closed ; the garden, as far as he could see it, 
 was left entirely to itself in the evening sunshine. A 
 modest curl of smoke from a single chimney alone tes- 
 tified to the presence of living people. 
 
 In order that he might not be entirely idle, and to 
 give a certain color to his way of life, Francis had pur- 
 chased Euclid's Geometry in French, which he set 
 himself to copy and translate on the top of his port- 
 manteau and. seated on the floor against the wall ; for 
 he was equally without chair or table. From time to 
 time he would rise and cast a glance into the enclosure 
 of the house with the green blinds ; but the windows 
 remained obstinately closed and the garden empty. 
 
 Only late in the evening did anything occur to 
 reward his continued attention. Between nine and 
 ten the sharp tinkle of a bell aroused him from a fit of 
 dozing ; and he sprang to his observatory in time to 
 hear an important noise of locks being opened and 
 bars removed, and to see Mr. Vandeleur, carrying a 
 lantern and clothed in a flowing robe of black velvet 
 with a skull-cap to match, issue from under the veranda 
 and proceed leisurely toward the garden-gate. The 
 sound of bolts and bars was then repeated ; and a 
 moment after Francis perceived the Dictator escorting 
 into the house, in the mobile light of the lantern, an 
 individual of the lowest and most despicable appearance. 
 
 Half-an-hour afterward the visitor was reconducted 
 to the street ; and Mr. Vandeleur, setting his light 
 upon one of the rustic tables, finished a cigar with 
 great deliberation under the foliage of the chestnut. 
 Francis, peering through a clear space among the 
 leaves, was able to follow his gestures as he threw away 
 the ash or enjoyed a copious inhalation ; and beheld 
 a cloud upon the old man's brow and a forcible action 
 of the lips, which testified to some deep and probably 
 painful train of thought. The cigar was already 
 almost at an end, when the voice of a young girl was 
 heard suddenly crying the hour from the interior of 
 the house.
 
 i ;-• NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 " In a moment," replied John Vandeleur. 
 
 And. with that, he throw away the stump and, taking 
 up the lantern, sailed away under the veranda for the 
 night. As soon as the door was < losed, absolute dark- 
 fell upon the house; Francis might try his eye- 
 sight as much as he pleased, he could not detei 
 much as a single chink of light below a blind ; ami he 
 concluded, with great good sense, that the bed cham- 
 bers were all upon the other side. 
 
 Early the next morning (for he was early awake aftel 
 an uncomfortable night upon the floor), he saw cause 
 to adopt a different explanation. The blinds rose, one 
 after another, by means of a spring in the interior, and 
 disclosed steel shutters such as we see on the front of 
 shops ; these in their turn were rolled up by a similar 
 contrivance ; and for the space of about an hour, the 
 chambers were left open to the morning air. At the 
 end of that time Mr. Vandeleur, with his own hand, 
 once more closed the shutters and replaced the blinds 
 from within. 
 
 While Francis was still marvelling at these precau- 
 tions, the door opened and a young girl came forth to 
 lo.;k about her in the garden. It was not two minutes 
 before she re-entered the house, but even in that short 
 time he saw enough to convince him that she possessed 
 the most unusual attractions. His curiosity was not 
 only highly excited by this incident, but his spirits 
 were improved to a still more notable degree. The 
 alarming manners and more than equivocal life of his 
 father ceased from that moment to prey upon his 
 mind ; from that moment he embraced his new family 
 with ardor ; and whether the young lady should prove 
 his sister or his wife, he felt convinced she was an 
 angel in disguise. So much was this the case that he 
 was seized with a sudden horror when he reflected 
 how little he really knew, and how possible it was that 
 he followed the wrong person when he followed Mr. 
 Vandeleur. 
 
 The porter, whom he consulted, could afford him
 
 THE RA J AH'S DIA MOND. 1 4 3 
 
 little information; but, such as it was, it had a myste- 
 rious and questionable sound. The person next door 
 was an English gentleman of extraordinary wealth, and 
 proportionately eccentric in his tastes and habits. He 
 possessed great collections, which he kept in the house 
 beside him; and it was to protect these that he had 
 fitted the place with steel shutters, elaborate fastenings 
 and chevaux-de-frise along the garden wall. He lived 
 much alone, in spite of some strange visitors with 
 whom, it seemed, he had business to transact; and 
 there was no one in the house except Mademoiselle 
 and an old woman servant. 
 
 " Is Mademoiselle his daughter ? " inquired Francis. 
 
 " Certainly," replied the porter. " Mademoiselle is 
 the daughter of the house; and strange it is to see how 
 she is made to work. For all his riches, it is she who 
 goes to market; and every day in the week you may see 
 her going by with a basket on her arm." 
 
 " And the collections ? " asked the other. 
 
 "Sir," said the man, ''they are immensely valuable. 
 More I cannot tell you. Since M. de Vandeleur's 
 arrival no one in the quarter has so much as passed 
 the door." 
 
 " Suppose not," returned Francis, " you must surely 
 have some notion what these famous galleries contain. 
 Is it pictures, silks, statues, jewels, or what ? " 
 
 " My faith, sir," said the fellow with a shrug, " it 
 might be carrots, and still I could not tell you. How 
 should I know ? The house is kept like a garrison, as 
 you perceive." 
 
 And then as Francis was returning disappointed to 
 his room, the porter called him back. 
 
 "I have just remembered, sir," said he. " M. de 
 Vandeleur has been in all parts of the world, and I 
 once heard the old woman declare that he had brought 
 many diamonds back with him. If that be the truth, 
 there must be a fine show behind those shutters." 
 
 By an early hour on Sunday Francis was in his place 
 at the theatre. The seat which had been taken for
 
 i I \ Nl ir ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 him was only two or three numbers from the left-hand 
 
 and directly opposite one of the low< r boxes. A i 
 
 ally ( hosen tin re « as doubtless 
 
 • • I frori • i ition; and he 
 
 ■. an instinct that the box upon his right was, 
 
 i r other, to be connected with the drama 
 
 in which he ignorantly played a part. Indeed it was 
 
 tuated that its occupants could safely observe him 
 
 from beginning to end of the piece, if they were so 
 
 minded; while, profiting by the depth, they <<>uld 
 
 n themselves sufficiently well from any counter- 
 
 lination on his side. He promised himself not to 
 
 leave it for a moment out of sight; and whilst he 
 
 S( anned the rest of the theatre, or made a show of 
 
 attending to the business of the stage, he always kept 
 
 a corner of an eye upon the empty box. 
 
 The second act had been some time in progress, and 
 was even drawing towards a close, when the door 
 opened and two persons entered and ensconced them- 
 selves in the darkest of the shade. Fram is could 
 hardly control his emotion. It was Mr. Vandeleur and 
 his daughter. The blood came and went in his arteries 
 and veins with stunning activity; his ears sang; his 
 head turned. He dared not look lest he should awake 
 suspicion; his play-bill, which he kept reading from 
 end to end and over and over again, turned from white 
 to red before his eyes; and when he cast a glance upon 
 the stage, it seemed incalculably far away, and he 
 found the voices and gestures of the actors to the lasr 
 degree impertinent and absurd. 
 
 m time to time he risked a momentary look in 
 the direction whirl) principally arrested him; and once 
 at least he felt certain that his eyes encountered those 
 of the young girl. A shock over his body, and 
 
 lie saw all the colors of the rainbow. 'What would he 
 not have given to overhear what passed between the 
 Vandeleurs ? What would he not have given for the 
 courage to take up his opera-glass and steadily inspect 
 their attitude and expression ? There, for aught he
 
 THE RAJAH'S DIAMOND. 145 
 
 knew, his whole life was being decided — and he not 
 able to interfere, not able even to follow the debate, 
 but condemned to sit and suffer where he was, in 
 impotent anxiety. 
 
 At last the act came to an end. The curtain fell, 
 and the people around him began to leave their places 
 for the interval. It was only natural that he should 
 follow their example ; and if he did so, it was not only 
 natural but necessary that he should pass immediately 
 in front of the box in question. Summoning all his 
 courage, but keeping his eyes lowered, Francis drew 
 near the spot. His progress was slow, for the old gen- 
 tleman before him moved with incredible deliberation, 
 wheezing as he went. What was he to do ? Should he 
 address the Vandeleurs by name as he went by ? 
 Should he take the flower from his button-hole and 
 throw it into the box? Should he raise his face and 
 direct one long and affectionate look upon the lady who 
 was either his sister or his betrothed ? As he found 
 himself thus struggling among so many alternatives, he 
 had a vision of his old equable existence in the bank, 
 and was assailed by a thought of regret for the past. 
 
 By this time he had arrived directly opposite the 
 box ; and although he was still undetermined what to 
 do or whether to do anything, he turned his head and 
 lifted his eyes. No sooner had he done so than he 
 uttered a cry of disappointment and remained rooted 
 to the spot. The box was empty. During his slow 
 advance Mr. Vandeleur and his daughter had quietly 
 slipped away. 
 
 A polite person in his rear reminded him that he was 
 stopping the path ; and he moved on again with 
 mechanical footsteps, and suffered the crowd to carry 
 him unresisting out of the theatre. Once in the street, 
 the pressure ceasing, he came to a halt, and the cool 
 night air speedily restored him to the possession of his 
 faculties. He was surprised to find that his head 
 ached violently, and that he remembered not one word 
 of the two acts which he had witnessed. As the excite-
 
 146 A7 //' ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 ment wore away, it was succeeded by an overweening 
 appetite for sleep, and he hailed a cab ami dune to 
 his lodgit ite of extreme exhaustion and some 
 
 -• : life. 
 
 \t morning he lay in wait for Miss Vandeleux on 
 her road to market, and by eight o'clock beheld her 
 Stepping down a lane. She was simply, and even 
 
 ly, attired; but in the carriage of her h 
 body there was something flexible and noble that would 
 have lent distinction to the meanest toilette. Even 
 her basket, so aptly did she carry it, became her like 
 an ornament. It seemed to Francis, as he slipped into 
 a doorway, that the sunshine followed and the shadows 
 tied before her as she walked ; and he was conscious, 
 for the first time, of a bird singing in a cage above the 
 lane. 
 
 He suffered her to pass the doorway, and then, 
 coming forth once more, addressed her by name from 
 behind. 
 
 " Miss Vandeleur," said he. 
 
 She turned and, when she saw who he was, became 
 deadly pale. 
 
 " Pardon me," he continued ; " Heaven knows I had 
 no will to startle you ; and, indeed, there should be 
 nothing startling in the presence of one who wishes 
 you so well as I do. And, believe me, I am acting 
 rather from necessity than choice. We have many 
 things in common, and I am sadly in the dark. There 
 is much that I should be doing, and my hands are tied. 
 I do not know even what to feel, nor who are my 
 friends and enemies." 
 
 found her voice with an effort. 
 I do not know who you are," she said. 
 
 Miss Vandeleur, you do," returned 
 Francis ; " better than I do myself. Indeed it is on 
 that, above all, that I seek light. Tell me what you 
 know," he pleaded. " Tell me who I am, who you are, 
 and how our destinies are intermixed. Give me a little 
 help with my life, Miss Vandeleur — only a word or twn
 
 THE RAJAH'S DIAMOND. 147 
 
 to guide me, only the name of my father, if you will — 
 and I shall be grateful and content." 
 
 " I will not attempt to deceive you," she replied. " I 
 know who you are, but I am not at liberty to say." 
 
 " Tell me, at least, that you have forgiven my pre- 
 sumption, and I shall wait with all the patience I have," 
 he said. " If I am not to know, I must do without. 
 It is cruel, but I can bear more upon a push. Only do 
 not add to my troubles the thought that I have made 
 an enemy of you." 
 
 " You did only what was natural," she said, "and I 
 have nothing to forgive you. Farewell." 
 
 " Is it to be farewell 7" he asked. 
 
 " Nay, that I do not know myself, ' she answered. 
 " Farewell for the present, if you like." 
 
 And with these words she was gone. 
 
 Francis returned to his lodging in a state of consid- 
 erable commotion of mind. He made the most trifling 
 progress with his Euclid for that forenoon, and was 
 more often at the window than at his improvised 
 writing-table. But beyond seeing the return of Miss 
 Vandeleur, and the meeting between her and her father, 
 who was smoking a Trichinopoli cigar in the verandah, 
 there was nothing notable in the neighborhood of the 
 house with the green blinds before the time of the mid- 
 day meal. The young man hastily allayed his appetite 
 in a neighboring restaurant, and returned with the 
 speed of unallayed curiosity to the house in the Rue 
 Lepic. A mounted servant was leading a saddle- 
 horse to and fro before the garden wall ; and the por- 
 ter of Francis's lodging was smoking a pipe against the 
 door-post, absorbed in contemplation of the livery and 
 the steeds. 
 
 "Look! "he cried to the young man, "what fine 
 cattle! 'what an elegant costume! They belong to the 
 brother of M. de Vandeleur, who is now within upon 
 a visit. He is a great man, a general, in your country; 
 and you doubtless know him well by reputation." 
 
 "I confess," returned Francis, "that I have never
 
 V ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 heard ol General Vandeleur before. We have many 
 • that grade, and my pursuits have been exclu* 
 sively civiL " 
 
 "it is he," replied the porter, " who lost the great 
 diamond of the Indies. that at least you must 
 have read often in the papers." 
 
 A^ so. m as Francis could disengage himself from 
 the porter he ran up stairs and hurried to the window. 
 Immediately below the clear space in the chestnut 
 leaves, the two gentlemen were seated in conversation 
 over . The General, a red, military-looking 
 
 man, offered some traces of a family resemblance to 
 his brother; he had something of the same features, 
 something, although very little, of the same free and 
 powerful carriage; but he was older, smaller, and more 
 common in air; his likeness was that of a caricature, 
 and he seemed altogether a poor and debile being by 
 the side of the Dictator. 
 
 They spoke in tones so low, leaning over the table 
 with every appearance of interest, that Francis could 
 catch no more than a word or two on an occasion. 
 For as little as he heard, he was convinced that the 
 conversation turned upon himself and his own career; 
 several times the name of Scrymgeour reached his 
 ear, for it was easy to distinguish, and still more fre- 
 quently he fancied he could distinguish the name 
 Francis. 
 
 length the General, as if in a hot anger, broke 
 forth into several violent exclamations. 
 
 Francis Vandeleur! " he cried, accentuating the 
 last word. " Francis Vandeleur, I tell you." 
 
 The Dictator made a movement of his whole body, 
 half affirmative, half contemptuous, but his answer 
 was i-naudible to the young man. 
 
 Was he the Francis Vandeleur in question ? he won- 
 dered. Were they discussing the name under which 
 he was to be married ? Or was the whole affair a 
 dream and a delusion of his own conceit and self- 
 absorption ?
 
 THE RAJAH'S DIAMOND. T49 
 
 After another interval of inaudible talk, dissension 
 seemed again to arise between the couple underneath 
 the chestnut, and again the General raised his voice 
 angrily so as to be audible to Francis. 
 
 " My wife ? " he cried. " I have done with my wife 
 for good. I will not hear her name. I am sick of her 
 very name." 
 
 And he swore aloud and beat the table with his fist. 
 
 The Dictator appeared, by his gestures, to pacify 
 him after a paternal fashion; and a little after he con- 
 ducted him to the garden-gate. The pair shook hands 
 affectionately enough; but as soon- as the door had 
 closed behind his visitor, John Vandeleur fell into a fit 
 of laughter which sounded unkindly and even devilish 
 in the ears of Francis Scrymgeour. 
 
 So another day had passed, and little more learnt. But 
 the young man remembered that the morrow was 
 Tuesday, and promised himself some curious discover- 
 ies; all might be well, or all might be ill; he was sure, 
 at least, to glean some curious information, and, per- 
 haps, by good luck, get at the heart of the mystery 
 which surrounded his father and his family. 
 
 As the hour of the dinner drew near many prepar- 
 ations were made in the garden of the house with the 
 green blinds. The table which was partly visible to 
 Francis through the chestnut leaves was destined to 
 serve as a sideboard, and carried relays of plates and 
 the materials for salad: the other, which was almost 
 entirely concealed, had been set apart for the diners, 
 and Francis could catch glimpses of white cloth and 
 silver plate. 
 
 Mr. Rolles arrived, punctual to the minute; he 
 looked like a man upon his guard, and spoke low and 
 sparingly. The Dictator, on the other hand, appeared 
 to enjoy an unusual flow of spirits; his laugh, which 
 was youthful and pleasant to hear, sounded frequently 
 from the garden; by the modulation and the changes 
 of his voice it was obvious that he told many droll 
 stories and imitated the accents of a variety of differ-
 
 150 \J W ARABIAN NIGHTS, 
 
 ent nations; and before he and the young clergyman 
 
 had finished their vermouth all feeling of distrust was 
 
 ■ end, and they were talking together like .1 pair 1 1 
 
 '. < ompar 
 
 \*. length Miss Vandeleur made her appearand e, 
 ing the soup-tureen. Mr. Rolles ran to offer her 
 , which she laughingly refused; and there 
 an interchange of pleasantries among the trio 
 h seemed to have reference to this primitive man- 
 ner of waiting by one of the company. 
 
 "One is more at one's ease," Mr. Vandeleur was 
 heard to declare. 
 
 Next moment they were all three in their places, 
 and Francis could see as little as he could hear of 
 what passed ; but the dinner seemed to go merrily ; 
 there was a perpetual babble of voices and sound of 
 knives and forks below the chestnut ; and Francis, 
 who had no more than a roll to gnaw, was affected 
 with envy by the comfort and deliberation of the meal. 
 The party lingered over one dish after another, and then 
 over a delicate dessert, with a bottle of old wine care- 
 fully uncorked by the hand of the Dictator himself. 
 As it began to grow dark a lamp was set upon the 
 table and a couple of candles on the sideboard ; for 
 the night was perfectly pure, starry, and windless. 
 Light overflowed besides from the door and window in 
 the verandah, so that the garden was fairly illuminated 
 and the leaves twinkled in the darkness. 
 
 For perhaps the tenth time Miss Vandeleur entered 
 tlif house ; and on this occasion she returned with the 
 e tray, which she placed upon the sideboard. At 
 the same moment her father rose from his seat. 
 
 "The coffee is my province," Francis heard him 
 say. 
 
 And next moment he saw his supposed father stand- 
 ing by the sideboard in the light of the candles. 
 
 Talking over his shoulder all the while, Mr. Van- 
 deleur poured out two cups of the brown stimulant, 
 and then, by a rapid act of prestidigitation, emptied the
 
 THE RA J AH 'S DIAMOND. 1 5 1 
 
 contents of a tiny phial into the smaller one of the two. 
 The thing was so swiftly done that even Francis, who 
 looked straight into his face, had hardly time to per- 
 ceive the movement before it was completed. And 
 next instant, and still laughing, Mr. Vandeleur had 
 turned again towards the table with a cup in either 
 hand. 
 
 " We have done with this," said he, " we may expect 
 our famous Hebrew." 
 
 It would be impossible to depict the confusion and 
 distress of Francis Scrymgeour. He saw foul play 
 going forward before his eyes, and he felt bound to 
 interfere, but knew not how. It might be a mere 
 pleasantry, and then how should he look if he were to 
 offer an unnecessary warning ? Or again, if it were 
 serious, the criminal might be his own father, and then 
 how should he not lament if he were to bring ruin on 
 the author of his days ? For the first time he became 
 conscious of his own position as a spy. To wait 
 inactive at such a juncture and with such a conflict of 
 sentiments in his bosom was to suffer the most acute 
 torture ; he clung to the bars of the shutters, his heart 
 beat fast and with irregularity, and he felt a strong 
 sweat break forth upon his body. 
 
 Several minutes passed. 
 
 He seemed to perceive the conversation die away 
 and grow less and less in vivacity and volume ; but 
 still no sign of any alarming or even notable event. 
 
 Suddenly the ring of a glass breaking was followed 
 by a faint and dull sound, as of a person who should 
 have fallen forward with his head upon the table. At 
 the same moment a piercing scream rose from the 
 garden. 
 
 " What have you done ? " cried Miss Vandeleur. 
 " He is dead ! " 
 
 The Dictator replied in a violent whisper, so strong 
 and sibilant that every word was audible to the watcher 
 at the window. 
 
 " Silence ! " said Mr. Vandeleur ; " the man is as
 
 15^ A7 W ARABIAN X hi HIS. 
 
 well as I am. Take him l>y the heels whilst I carry 
 him by the should' 
 
 Francis heard Miss Vandeleur break forth into a 
 
 " Do you hear what I say ?" resumed the Dictator, 
 in the same tones. " ' >r <1<> you wish to quarrel with 
 me? I give you your choice, Miss Vandeleur." 
 
 There was another pause, ami the Dictator spoke 
 again. 
 
 " Take that man by the heels," he said. " I must 
 have him brought into the house. If 1 were a little 
 younger, I could help myself against the world. But 
 now that years and dangers are upon me and my 
 hands are weakened, I must turn to you for aid." 
 
 "It is a crime," replied the girl. 
 
 " I am your father," said Mr. Vandeleur. 
 
 This appeal seemed to produce its effect. A scuffling 
 noise followed upon the gravel, a chair was overset, 
 and then Francis saw the father and daughter stagger 
 across the walk and disappear under the verandah, 
 bearing the inanimate body of Mr. Rolles embraced 
 about the knees and shoulders. The young clergyman 
 was limp and pallid, and his head rolled upon his 
 shoulders at every step. 
 
 ■W'as he alive or dead ? Francis, in spite of the Dic- 
 tator's declaration, inclined to the latter view. A great 
 crime had been committed ; a gi eat calamity had fallen 
 upon the inhabitants of the house with the green blinds. 
 To his surprise, Francis found all horror for the deed 
 swallowed up in sorrow for a girl and an old man 
 whom he judged to lie in the height of peril. A tide 
 nerous feeling swept into his heart ; he, too, would 
 help his father against man and mankind, against fate 
 and justice ; and casting open the shutters he closed 
 his eyes and threw himself with outstretched arms into 
 the foliage of the chestnut. 
 
 Branch after branch slipped from his grasp or broke 
 under his weight; then he caught a stalwart bough 
 under his armpit, and hung suspended for a second ;
 
 THE RAJAH'S DIAMOND. 153 
 
 and then he let himself drop and fell heavily against 
 the table. A cry of alarm from the house warned him 
 that his entrance had not been effected unobserved. 
 He recovered himself with a stagger, and in three 
 bounds crossed the intervening space and stood before 
 the door in the verandah. 
 
 In a small apartment, carpeted with matting and 
 surrounded by glazed cabinets full of rare and costly 
 curios, Mr. Vandeleur was stooping over the body of 
 Mr. Rolles. He raised himself as Francis entered, and 
 there was an instantaneous passage of hands. It was 
 the business of a second; as fast as an eye can wink the 
 thing was done; the young man had not the time to be 
 sure, but it seemed to him as if the Dictator had taken 
 something from the curate's breast, looked at it for the 
 least fraction of time as it lay in his hand, and then 
 suddenly and swiftly passed it to his daughter. 
 
 All this was over while Francis had still one foot 
 upon the threshold, and the other raised in air. The 
 next instant he was on his knees to Mr. Vandeleur. 
 
 " Father ! " he cried. " Let me too help you. I will 
 do what you wish and ask no questions; I will obey 
 you with my life; treat me as a son, and you will find 
 I have a son's devotion." 
 
 A deplorable explosion of oaths was the Dictator's 
 first reply. 
 
 " Son and Father ? " he cried. " Father and son ? 
 
 What d d unnatural comedy is all this ? How do 
 
 you come in my garden ? What do you want ? And 
 who, in God's name, are you ? " 
 
 Francis, with a stunned and shamefaced aspect, got 
 upon his feet again, and stood in silence. 
 
 Then a light seemed to break upon Mr. Vandeleur, 
 and he laughed aloud. 
 
 " I see," cried he. "It is the Scrymgeour. Very 
 well, Mr. Scrymgeour. Let me tell you in a few words 
 how you stand. You have entered my private residence 
 by force, or perhaps by fraud, but certainly with no 
 encouragement from me; and you come at a moment
 
 i>l W ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 me annoyance, a guest having fainted at my table, 
 to besiege me with your protestations. You are no son 
 
 of mine. You are my brother's bastard by a fishwife, 
 i want to know. I regard you with an indifference 
 v bordering on aversion; and from what I now 
 r< onduct, I judge your mind to be exactly 
 suitable to your exterior. I recommend you these 
 mortifying reflections for your leisure; and, in the 
 meantime, let me beseech you to rid us of your pres- 
 ence. If I were not occupied," added the Did 
 with a terrifying oath, " I should give you the unholiest 
 drubbing ere you went ! " 
 
 Francis listened in profound humiliation. He would 
 have lied had it been possible; but as he had no means 
 of leaving the residence into which he had so un- 
 fortunately penetrated, he could do no more than stand 
 foolishly where he was. 
 
 It was Miss Yandeleur who broke the silence. 
 
 "Father," she said, "you speak in anger. Mr. 
 Scrymgeour may have been mistaken, but he meant 
 well and kindly." 
 
 " Thank you for speaking," returned the Dictator. 
 " You remind me of some other observations which I 
 hold it a point of honor to make to Mr. Scrymgeour. 
 My brother," he continued, addressing the young man, 
 " has been foolish enough to give you an allowance; 
 he was foolish enough and presumptuous enough to 
 propose a match between you and this young lady. 
 You were exhibited to her two nights ago; and I 
 rejoice to tell you that she rejected the idea with dis- 
 gust. Let me add that I have considerable influence 
 with your father ; and it shall not be my fault if you 
 are not beggared of your allowance and sent back to 
 your scrivening ere the week be out." 
 
 The tones of the old man's voice were, if possible, 
 more wounding than his language ; Francis felt himself 
 exposed to the most cruel, blighting, and unbearable 
 contempt ; his head turned, and he covered his face 
 with his hands, uttering at the same time a tearless sob
 
 THE RAJAH'S DIAMOND. 155 
 
 of agony. But Miss Vandeleur once again interfered 
 in his behalf. 
 
 " Mr. Scrymgeour," she said, speaking in clear and 
 even tones, " you must not be concerned at my father's 
 harsh expressions. I felt no disgust for you ; on the 
 contrary, I asked an opportunity to make your better 
 acquaintance. As for what has passed to-night, 
 believe me it has filled my mind with both pity and 
 esteem." 
 
 Just then Mr. Rolles made a convulsive movement 
 with his arm, which convinced Francis that he was only 
 drugged, and was beginning to throw off the influence 
 of the opiate. Mr. Vandeleur stooped over him and 
 examined his face for an instant. 
 
 " Come, come ! " cried he, raising his head. " Let 
 there be an end of this. And since you are so pleased 
 with his conduct, Miss Vandeleur, take a candle and 
 show the bastard out." 
 
 The young lady hastened to obey. 
 
 " Thank you," said Francis, as soon as he was alone 
 with her in the garden. " I thank you from my soul. 
 This has been the bitterest evening of my life, but it 
 will have always one pleasant recollection." 
 
 "I spoke as I felt," she replied, "and in justice to 
 you. It made my heart sorry that you should be so 
 unkindly used." 
 
 By this time they had reached the garden gate ; and 
 Miss Vandeleur, having set the candle on the ground, 
 was already unfastening the bolts. 
 
 " One word more," said Francis. " This is not for 
 the last time — I shall see you again, shall I not?" 
 
 ''Alas!" she answered. "You have heard my 
 father. What can I do but obey ?" 
 
 "Tell me at least that it is not with your consent," 
 returned Francis ; " tell me that you have no wish to 
 see the last of me." 
 
 " Indeed," replied she, " I have none. You seem to 
 me both brave and honest." 
 
 "Then." said Francis, "give me a keepsake."
 
 i5<> ' ■'■" ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 She paused for a moment, with her hand upon the 
 
 key ; for the various liars and 1 >< >lts were all undone, 
 and there was nothing left but to open the lo< k. 
 
 " It 1 ," she said, " will you promise to do as I 
 
 tell you from point to point ? " 
 
 "i ■ you ask?" replied Francis. "I would do so 
 willingly on your hare word." 
 
 turned the key and threw open the door. 
 Be it so," said she. " You do not know what you 
 ask, but be it so. Whatever you hear," she continued, 
 " whatever happens, do not return to this house ; hurry 
 mtil you reach the lighted and populous quarters 
 of the city ; even there be upon your guard. You are 
 in a greater danger than you fancy. Promise me you 
 will not so much as look at any keepsake until you are 
 in a place of safety." 
 
 " I promise," replied Francis. 
 
 She put something loosely wrapped in a handkerchief 
 into the young man's hand ; and at the same time, with 
 h than he could have anticipated, she 
 pushed him into the street. 
 
 " Now, run ! " she cried. 
 
 lie heard the door close behind him, and the noise 
 of the bolts being replaced. 
 
 " My faith," said he, " since I have promised ! " 
 
 And he took to his heels down the lane that leads into 
 the Rue Ravignan. 
 
 He was not fifty paces from the house with the green 
 
 blinds when the most diabolical outcry suddenly arose 
 
 out of the stillness of the night. Mechanically he stood 
 
 still ; another passenger followed his example ; in the 
 
 neighboring floors he saw people crowding to the 
 
 windows ; a conflagration could not have produced 
 
 more disturbance in this empty quarter. And yet it 
 
 led to he all the work of a single man, roaring 
 
 ■en grief and rage, like a lioness robbed of her 
 
 whelps ; and Francis was surprised and alarmed to hear 
 
 iwn name shouted with English imprecations to 
 
 the wind
 
 THE RA J A II ' S DIA MOND. 1 5 7 
 
 His first movement was to return to the house ; his 
 second, as he remembered Miss Vandeleur's advice, to 
 continue his flight with greater expedition than before ; 
 and he was in the act oi turning to put his thought in 
 action, when the Dictator, bareheaded, bawling aloud, 
 his white hair blowing about his head, shot past him 
 like a ball out of the cannon's mouth, and went career- 
 ing down the street. 
 
 " That was a close shave," thought Francis to him- 
 self. "What he wants with me, and why he should be 
 so disturbed, I cannot think ; but he is plainly not 
 good company for the moment, and I cannot do better 
 than follow Miss Vandeleur's advice." 
 
 So saying, he turned to retrace his steps, thinking to 
 double and descend by the Rue Lepic itself while his 
 pursuer should continue to follow after him on the other 
 line of street. The plan was ill-advised : as a matter 
 of fact, he should have taken his seat in the nearest 
 cafe, and waited there until the first heat of the pursuit 
 was over. But besides that Francis had no experience 
 and little natural aptitude for the small war of private 
 life, he was so unconscious of any evil on his part, that 
 he saw nothing to fear beyond a disagreeable interview. 
 And to disagreeable interviews he felt he had already 
 served his apprenticeship that evening ; nor could he 
 suppose that Miss Vandeleur had left anything unsaid. 
 Indeed, the young man was sore both in body and 
 mind — the one was all bruised, the other was full of 
 smarting arrows ; and he owned to himself that Mr. 
 Vandeleur was master of a very deadly tongue. 
 
 The thought of his bruises reminded him that he had 
 not only come without a hat, but that his clothes had 
 considerably suffered in his descent through the chest- 
 nut. At the first magazine he purchased a cheap wide- 
 awake, and had the disorder of his toilet summarily 
 repaired. The keepsake, still rolled in the handkerchief, 
 he thrust in the meanwhile into his trousers pocket. 
 
 Not many steps beyond the shop he was conscious 
 of a sudden shock, a hand upon his throat, an infuri-
 
 1 5 8 NE W .IK. I A/. / N NIGHTS. 
 
 ated face close to his own, and an open mouth bawl* 
 ing curses in his ear. The Dictator, having found no 
 dt his quarry, was returning by the other way. 
 Fran stalwart young fellow ; but he was no 
 
 h for his adversary whether in strength or skill ; 
 ami after a feu- ineffectual struggles he resigned him- 
 self entirely to his captor. 
 
 "What do you want with me?" 
 
 " We will talk of that at home," returned the I >i< ta- 
 tor, grimly. 
 
 And he continued to march the young man up hill 
 in tin- direction of the house with the green blinds. 
 
 But Francis, although he no longer struggled, was 
 only waiting an opportunity to make a hold push for 
 freedom. With a sudden jerk he left the collar of his 
 coat in the hands of Mr. Vandeleur, and once more 
 made off a his best speed in the direction of the Boule- 
 vards. 
 
 The tables were now turned. If the Dictator was 
 the stronger, Francis, in the top of his youth, was the 
 more fleet of foot, and he had soon effected his escape 
 among ti: Relieved for a moment, but with 
 
 a growing sentiment of alarm and wonder in his mind, 
 he walked briskly until he debouched upon the Place 
 de l'Opera, lit up like day with electric lamps. 
 
 "This, at least," thought he, " should satisfy Miss 
 Vandeleur. " 
 
 And turning to his right along the Boulevards, he 
 entered the Cafe Americain and ordered some beer. 
 It was both late and early for the majority of the fre- 
 quenters of the establishment. Only two or three 
 persons, all men, were dotted here and there at sepa 
 rate tables in the hall ; and Francis was too much 
 occupied by his own thoughts to observe their pres- 
 ence. 
 
 He drew the handkerchief from his pocket. The 
 object wrapped in it proved to be a morocco case, 
 clasped and ornamented in gilt, which opened by means 
 of a spring, and disclosed to the horrified young man
 
 THE RA JAH'S DIAMOND. 1 5 9 
 
 a diamond of monstrous bigness and extraordinary 
 brilliancy. The circumstance was so inexplicable, the 
 value of the stone was plainly so enormous, that Fran- 
 cis sat staring into the open casket without movement, 
 without conscious thought, like a man stricken sud- 
 denly with idiocy. 
 
 A hand was laid upon his shoulder, lightly but 
 firmly, and a quiet voice, which yet had in it the ring 
 of command, uttered these words in his ear: — 
 
 " Close the casket, and compose your face." 
 
 Looking up, he beheld a man, still young, of an 
 urbane and tranquil presence, and dressed with rich 
 simplicity. This personage had risen from a neigh- 
 boring table, and bringing his glass with him, had taken 
 a seat beside Francis. 
 
 " Close the casket," replied the stranger, " and put 
 it quietly back into your pocket, where I feel persuaded 
 it should never have been. Try, if you please, to 
 throw off your bewildered air, and act as though I were 
 one of your acquaintances whom you had met by 
 chance. So ! Touch glasses with me. That is better. 
 I fear, sir, you must be an amateur." 
 
 And the stranger pronounced these last words with 
 a smile of peculiar meaning, leaned back in his seat 
 and enjoyed a deep inhalation of tobacco. 
 
 "For God'ssake," saidFrancis, " tell me who you are 
 and what this means? Why I should obey your most 
 unusual suggestions I am sure I know not ; but the 
 truth is, I have fallen this evening into so many per- 
 plexing adventures, and all I meet conduct themselves 
 so strangely, that I think I must either have gone mad 
 or wandered into another planet. Your face inspires 
 me with confidence ; you seem wise, good, and experi- 
 enced ; tell me, for heaven's sake, why you accost me 
 in so odd a fashion ? " 
 
 "All in due time," replied the stranger. "But I 
 have the first hand, and you must begin by telling me 
 how the Rajah's Diamond is in your possession." 
 
 " The Rajah's Diamond ! "
 
 . • ARABIAN MCirrs. 
 
 "1 would not speak so loud, if I were you," returned 
 
 the other. " But most certainly you have the Rajah's 
 
 Diamond in your pocket. I have seen and handled it 
 
 >reof times in Sir Thomas Vandeleur's collection." 
 
 "Sir Thomas Vandeleur ! The General! My 
 
 " \ r father?" repeated the stranger. " I was not 
 aware the General had any family." 
 
 " I am illegitimate, sir," replied Francis with a Hush. 
 
 The other bowed with gravity. Il was a respectful 
 hew, as of a man silently apologizing to his equal ; and 
 Francis felt relieved and comforted, he scarce knew 
 why. The society of this person did him good ; he 
 seemed to touch firm ground ; a strong feeling of 
 respect grew up in his bosom, and mechanically he 
 removed his wide-awake as though in the presence of 
 a superior, 
 
 "I perceive," said the stranger, "that your adven- 
 tures have not all been peaceful. Your collar is torn, 
 your face is scratched, you have a cut upon your tem- 
 ple ; you will, perhaps, pardon my curiosity when I 
 ask you to explain how you came by these injuries, and 
 how you happen to have stolen property to an enor- 
 mous value in your pocket." 
 
 " I must differ from you ! " returned Francis, hotly. 
 " I possess no stolen property. And if you refer to the 
 diamond, it was given to me not an hour ago by Miss 
 Vandeleur in the Rue Lepic." 
 
 " By Mi V indeleur of the Rue Lepic!" repeated 
 tlie other. " You interest me more than you suppose. 
 Fray continue.'' 
 
 " Heavens ! " cried Francis. 
 
 Mis memory had made a sudden bound. He had 
 seen Mr. Vandeleur take an article from the breast of 
 his drugged visitor, and that article, he was now per- 
 is a morocco case. 
 
 " You have a light ?" inquired the stranger. 
 
 " Listen," said Francis. " I know not who you are, 
 but I believe you to be worthy of confidence and
 
 THE RAJAWS DIAMOND. 161 
 
 helpful ; I find myself in strange waters ; I must have 
 counsel and support, and since you invite me I shall 
 tell you all." 
 
 And he briefly recounted his experiences since the 
 day when he was summoned from the bank by his 
 lawyer. 
 
 " Yours is indeed a remarkable history," said the 
 stranger, after the young man had made an end of his 
 narrative; "and your position is full of difficulty and 
 peril. Many would counsel you to seek out your father, 
 and give the diamond to him ; but I have other views. 
 Waiter !" he cried. 
 
 The waiter drew near. 
 
 " Will you ask the manager to speak with me a 
 moment ? " said he ; and Francis observed once more, 
 both in his tone and manner, the evidence of a habit of 
 command. 
 
 The waiter withdrew, and returned in a moment 
 with the manager, who bowed with obsequious 
 respect. 
 
 "What," said he, "can I do to serve you ?" 
 
 " Have the goodness," replied the stranger, indicat- 
 ing Francis, " to tell this gentleman my name. 
 
 " You have the honor, sir," said the functionary, 
 addressing young Scrymgeour, "to occupy the same 
 table with His Highness Prince Florizel of Bohemia." 
 
 Francis rose with precipitation, and made a grate- 
 ful reverence to the Prince, who bade him resume 
 his seat. 
 
 " I thank you," said Florizel, once more addressing 
 the functionary ; " I am sorry to have deranged you 
 for so small a matter." 
 
 And he dismissed him with a movement of his hand. 
 
 " And now," added the Prince, turning to Francis, 
 " give me the diamond." 
 
 Without a word the casket was handed over. 
 
 " You have done right," said Florizel ; " your 
 sentiments have properly inspired you, and you will 
 live to be grateful for the misfortunes of to-night. A
 
 new arab:an nights. 
 
 man, Mr. Scrymgeour, may fall into a thousand per* 
 plexi ties, but it his heart be upright and his intellig 
 unclouded, he will issue from them all without dis- 
 honor. Let your mind beat rest; your affairs arc in 
 my hands ; and with the aid of heaven I am strong 
 enough to bring them to a good end. Follow me, if 
 you please, to my < an i 
 
 So saying the Prince arose and, having left a piece of 
 
 for the waiter, conducted the young man from 
 
 the cafe* and along the Boulevard to where an 
 
 unpretentious brougham and a couple of servants out 
 
 of livery awaited his arrival. 
 
 "This carriage," said he, "is at your disposal; 
 collect your baggage as rapidly as you can make it 
 enient, and my servants will conduct you to a 
 villa in the neighborhood of Paris where you can wait 
 in some degree of comfort until I have had time to 
 arrange your situation You will find there a pleasant 
 garden, a library of good authors, a ( ook, a cellar, and 
 some good < igars, which I recommend to your atten- 
 rome," he added, turning to one of the ser- 
 vants, " you have heard what I say; I leave Mr. Scrym- 
 geour in your charge ; you will, I know, be careful of 
 my friend." 
 
 Francis uttered some broken phrases of gratitude. 
 
 " It will be time enough to thank me," said the 
 Prince, "when you are acknowledged by your father 
 and married to Miss Vandeleur." 
 
 And with that the Prince turned away and strolled 
 leisurely in the direction of Montmartre. He hailed 
 the first passing cab, gave an address, and a quarter of 
 an hour afterwards, having discharged the driver some 
 distance lower, he was knocking at Mr. Vandeleur s 
 garden gate. 
 
 It was opened with singular precautions by the Dic- 
 tator in person. 
 
 " Who are you ? " he demanded. 
 
 " You must pardon me this late visit, Mr. Vande- 
 leur," replied the Prince.
 
 THE RAJAH'S DIAMOND. 163 
 
 " Your Highness is always welcome," returned Mr. 
 Vandeleur, stepping back. 
 
 The Prince profited by the open space, and without 
 waiting for his host walked right into the house and 
 opened the door of the salon. Two people were seated 
 there ; one was Miss Vandeleur, who bore the marks 
 of weeping about her eyes, and was still shaken from 
 time to time by a sob ; in the other the Prince recog- 
 nized the young man who had consulted him on literary 
 matters about a month before, in a club smoking-room. 
 
 " Good evening, Miss Vandeleur," said Florizel ; 
 " you look fatigued. Mr. Rolles, I believe ? I hope 
 you have profited by the study of Gaboriau, Mr. 
 Rolles." 
 
 But the young clergyman's temper was too much 
 embittered for speech ; and he contented himself with 
 bowing stiffly, and continued to gnaw his lip. 
 
 " To what good wind," said Mr. Vandeleur, follow- 
 ing his guest, " am I to attribute the honor of your 
 Highness's presence ? " 
 
 " I am come on business," returned the Prince ; " on 
 business with you ; as soon as that is settled I shall 
 request Mr. Rolles to accompany me for a walk. Mr. 
 Rolles," he added, with severity, "let me remind you 
 that I have not yet sat down." 
 
 The clergyman sprang to his feet with an apology ; 
 whereupon the Prince took an arm-chair beside the 
 table, handed his hat to Mr. Vandeleur, his cane to 
 Mr. Rolles, and, leaving them standing and thus 
 menially employed upon his service, spoke as follows : — ■ 
 
 " I have come here, as I said, upon business ; but, 
 had I come looking for pleasure, I could not have been 
 more displeased with my reception nor more dissatis- 
 fied with my company. You, sir," addressing Mr. 
 Rolles, " you have treated your superior in station 
 with discourtesy ; you, Vandeleur, receive me with a 
 smile, but you know right well that your hands are not 
 yet cleansed from misconduct. I do not desire to be 
 interrupted, sir," he added, imperiously ; " I am here
 
 164 ■" ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 ak, and not to listen ; and I have to ask you to 
 hoar me with respect, and to obey punctiliously. At 
 tin- earliest possible date your daughter shall he mar- 
 ried at the Embassy to my friend, Francis Scrymgeour, 
 brother's acknowledged son. You will oblige me 
 by offering not less than ten thousand pounds dowry. 
 yourself, I will indicate to you in writing a mission 
 of some importance in Siam which I destine to your 
 care. And now, sir, you will answer me in two words 
 whether or not you agree to these conditions." 
 
 " Your Highness will pardon me," said Mr. Vande- 
 leur, " and permit me, with all respect, to submit to 
 him two queries ? " 
 
 " The permission is granted," replied the Prince. 
 
 "Your Highness," resumed the Dictator, "has 
 called Mr. Scrymgeour his friend. Believe me, had I 
 known that he was thus honored, I should have treated 
 him with proportional respect." 
 
 " You interrogate adroitly," said the Prince ; " but 
 it will not serve your turn. You have my commands ; 
 if I had never seen that gentleman before to-night, it 
 would not render them less absolute." 
 
 "Your Highness interprets my meaning with his 
 usual subtlety," returned Yandeleur. "Once more: 
 I have, unfortunately, put the police upon the track of 
 Mr. Scrymgeour on a charge of theft ; am I to with- 
 draw or to uphold the accusation ? " 
 
 " You will please yourself," replied Florizel. "The 
 question is one between your conscience and the laws 
 of this land. Give me my hat ; and you, Mr. Rolles, 
 give me my cane and follow me. Miss Vandeleur, I 
 wish you good evening. I judge," he added to Vande- 
 leur, " that your silence means unqualified assent." 
 
 '"' If I can do no better," replied the old man, " I 
 shall submit ; but I warn you openly it shall not be 
 without a struggle." 
 
 " You are old," said the Prince ; " but years are dis- 
 graceful to the wicked. Your age is more unwise than 
 the youth of others. Do not provoke me, or you may
 
 THE RAJAH'S DIAMOND. 165 
 
 find me harder than you dream. This is the first time 
 that I have fallen across your path in anger ; take care 
 that it be the last." 
 
 With these words, motioning the clergyman to follow, 
 Florizel left the apartment and directed his steps 
 towards the garden-gate ; and the Dictator, following 
 with a candle, gave them light, and once more undid 
 the elaborate fastenings with which he sought to pro- 
 tect himself from intrusion. 
 
 "Your daughter is no longer present," said the 
 Prince, turning on the threshold. " Let me tell you 
 that I understand your threats ; and you have only to 
 lift your hand to bring upon yourself sudden and irre- 
 mediable ruin." 
 
 The Dictator made no reply ; but as the Prince 
 turned his back upon him in the lamplight he made 
 gesture full of menace and insane fury ; and the next 
 moment, slipping round a corner, he was running at 
 full speed for the nearest cab-stand. 
 
 {Here, says my Arabian, the thread of events is finally 
 diverted from The House with the Green Blinds. 
 One more adventure, he adds, and we have done with 
 The Rajah's Diamond. That last link in the chain is 
 known among the inhabitants of Bagdad by the name of 
 The Adventure of Prince Florizel and a Detec- 
 tive.)
 
 ADVENTURE OF PRINCE FLORTZEL AND 
 THE DETECTIVE. 
 
 Prince Florizel walked with Mr. Rolles to the door 
 of a small hotel where the latter resided. They spoke 
 much together, and the clergyman was more than once 
 affected to tears by the mingled severity and tender- 
 ness of Florizel's reproach' 
 
 " I have made ruin of my life," he said at last. 
 " Help me; tell me what I am to do; I have, alas ! 
 neither the virtues of a priest nor the dexterity of 3. 
 rogue." 
 
 " Now that you are humbled," said the Prince, "I 
 command no longer; the repentant have to do with 
 God and not with princes. Put if you will let me 
 advise you, go to Australia as a colonist, seek menial 
 labor in the open air, and try to forget that you have 
 ever been a clergyman, or that you ever set eyes on 
 that accursed stone." 
 
 " Accurst indeed !" replied Mr. Rolles. " Where is 
 it now ? What further hurt is it not working for man- 
 kind ?" 
 
 " It will do no more evil," returned the Prince. " It 
 is here in my pocket. And this," he added, kindly, 
 "will show that I place some faith in your penitence, 
 young as it is." 
 
 " Suffer me to touch your hand," pleaded Mr. Rolles. 
 
 "No," replied Prince Florizel, ''not yet." 
 
 The tone in which he uttered these last words was 
 eloquent in the ears of the young clergyman ; and for 
 some minutes after the Prince had turned away he 
 stood on the threshold following with his eyes the 
 retreating figure and invoking the blessing of heaven 
 upon a man so excellent in counsel. 
 
 For several hours the Prince walked alone in unfre- 
 166
 
 THE RAJAH' S DIAMOND. 167 
 
 quented streets. His mind was full of concern; what 
 to do with the diamond, whether to return it to its 
 owner, whom he judged unworthy of this rare posses- 
 sion, or to take some sweeping and courageous meas- 
 ure and put it out of the reach of all mankind at once 
 and for ever was a problem too grave to be decided in 
 a moment. The manner in which it had come into his 
 hands appeared manifestly providential; and as he 
 took out the jewel and looked at it under the street 
 lamps, its size and surprising brilliancy inclined him 
 more and more to think of it as an unmixed and dan- 
 gerous evil for the world. 
 
 "God help me!" he thought; "if I look at it much 
 oftener I shall begin to grow covetous myself." 
 
 At last, though still uncertain in his mind, he turned 
 his steps towards the small but elegant mansion on the 
 riverside, which had belonged for centuries to his royal 
 'amily. The arms of Bohemia are deeply graved over 
 <.he door and upon the tall chimneys; passengers have 
 a look into a green court set with the most costly 
 flowers, and a stork, the only one in Paris, perches on 
 the gable all day long and keeps a crowd before the 
 house. Grave servants are seen passing to and fro 
 within; and from time to time the great gate is thrown 
 open and a carriage rolls below the arch. For many 
 reasons this residence was especially dear to the heart 
 of Prince Florizel; he never drew near to it without 
 enjoying that sentiment of home-coming so rare in the 
 lives of the great; and on the present evening he 
 beheld its tall roof and mildly illuminated windows 
 with unfeigned relief and satisfaction. 
 
 As he was approaching the postern door by which 
 he always entered when alone, a man stepped forth 
 from the shadow and presented himself with an obei- 
 sance in the Prince's path. 
 
 " I have the honor of addressing Prince Florizel of 
 Bohemia ? " said he. 
 
 " Such is my title," replied the Prince. " What do 
 you want with me ? "
 
 ioS UtABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 "I am," said the man, "a detective, and I have to 
 at your Highness with this billet from the Pi 
 ice." 
 
 The Prince took the letter and glanced it through 
 by the Light of the street lamp. It was highly apolo- 
 getic, but requested him to follow the bearer to the 
 Prefecture without delay. 
 
 " In short," said Florizel, " I am arrested." 
 
 " Your Highness," replied the officer, "nothing, I 
 am certain, could be further from the intention of the 
 Prefect You will observe that he has not granted a 
 warrant. It is mere formality, or call it if you pre- 
 fer, an obligation that your Highness lays on the 
 authorities." 
 
 "At the same time," asked the Prince, "if I were 
 to refuse to follow you ? " 
 
 " I will not conceal from your Highness that a con- 
 siderable discretion has been granted me," replied the 
 detective with a bow. 
 
 "Upon my word," cried Florizel, "your effrontery 
 confounds me ! Yourself, as an agent, I must pardon ; 
 but your superiors shall dearly smart for their miscon- 
 duct. What, have you any idea, is the cause of this 
 impolitic and unconstitutional act ? You will observe 
 that I have as yet neither refused nor consented and 
 much may depend on your prompt and ingenuous 
 answer. Let me remind you, officer, that this is an 
 affair of some gravity." 
 
 " Your Highness," said the detective humbly, " Gen- 
 eral Vandeleur and his brother have had the incredi- 
 ble presumption to accuse you of theft. The famous 
 diamond, they declare, is in your hands. A word 
 from you in denial will most amply satisfy the Prefect ; 
 nay, I go farther : if your Highness would so far honor 
 a subaltern as to declare his ignorance of the matter 
 even to myself, I should ask permission to retire upon 
 the spot." 
 
 Florizel, up to the last moment, had regarded his 
 adventure in the light of a trifle, only serious upon
 
 THE RAJAH'S DIAMOND. 169 
 
 international considerations. At the name of Vande- 
 leur the horrible truth broke upon him in a moment; 
 he was not only arrested, but he was guilty. This was 
 not only an annoying incident — it was a peril to his 
 honor. What was he to say ? What was he to do ? 
 The Rajah's Diamond was indeed an accursed stone; 
 and it seemed as if he were to be the last victim to its 
 influence. 
 
 One thing was certain. He could not give the 
 required assurance to the detective. He must gain. time. 
 
 His hesitation had not lasted a second. 
 
 " Be it so," said he, " let us walk together to the 
 Prefecture." 
 
 The man once more bowed, and proceeded to fol- 
 low Florizel at a respectful distance in the rear. 
 
 " Approach," said the Prince. " I am in a humor 
 to talk, and, if I mistake not, now I look at you again, 
 this is not the first time that we have met." 
 
 " I count it an honor," replied the officer, " that 
 your Highness should recollect my face. It is eight 
 years since I had the pleasure of an interview." 
 
 " To remember faces," returned Florizel, " is as 
 much a part of my profession as it is of yours. Indeed, 
 rightly looked upon, a Prince and a detective serve in 
 the same corps. We are both combatants against 
 crime; only mine is the more lucrative and yours the 
 more dangerous rank, and there is a sense in which 
 botli may be made equally honorable to a good man. 
 I had rather, strange as you may think it, be a detec- 
 tive of character and parts than a weak and ignoble 
 sovereign." 
 
 The officer was overwhelmed. 
 
 " Your Highness returns good for evil," said he. 
 "To an act of presumption he replies by the most 
 amiable condescension." 
 
 " How do you know," replied Florizel, "that I am 
 not seeking to corrupt you ?" 
 
 " Heaven preserve me from the temptation ! " cried 
 the detective.
 
 170 //•.s". 
 
 " T applaud your answer," returned the Prince. " It 
 is that oi a wise and honesl man. The world is a 
 great place, and stocked with wealth and beauty, and 
 there is no limit to the rewards that may be offered. 
 
 Such an one who would refuse a million of money may 
 sell his honor for an empire or the love of a woman; 
 and 1 myself, who speak to you, have seen occasions 
 so tempting, provocations so irresistible to the strength 
 
 of human virtue, that I have been glad to tread in 
 your steps and recommend myself to the grace of ( rod. 
 
 It is thus, thanks to that modest and becoming habit 
 alone," he added, "that you and I can walk this town 
 together with untarnished hearts." 
 
 " I had always heard that you were brave," replied 
 the officer, " but I was not aware that 'you were wise 
 and pious. You speak the truth, and you speak it 
 with an accent that moves me to the heart. This 
 world is indeed a place of trial." 
 
 " We are now," said Florizel, " in the middle of the 
 bridge. Lean your elbows on the parapet and look 
 over. As the water rushing below, so the passions and 
 complications of life carry away the honesty of weak 
 men. Let me tell you a story." 
 
 " I receive your Highness's commands," replied the 
 man. 
 
 And, imitating the Prince, he leaned against the 
 parapet, and disposed himself to listen. The city was 
 already sunk in slumber; had it not been for the 
 infinity of lights and the outline of buildings on the 
 starry sky, they might have been alone beside some 
 country river. 
 
 "An officer," began Prince Florizel, "a man of 
 courage and conduct, who had already risen by merit 
 to an eminent rank, and won not only admiration but 
 respect, visited, in an unfortunate hour for his peace 
 of mind, the collections of an Indian Prince. Here 
 he beheld a diamond so extraordinary for size and 
 beauty that from that instant he had only one desire 
 in life: honor, reputation, friendship, the love of coun-
 
 THE RA JAH'S DIA MOND. 1 7 1 
 
 try, he was ready to sacrifice all for this lump of 
 sparkling crystal. For three years he served this semi- 
 barbarian potentate as Jacob served Laban; he falsified 
 frontiers, he connived at murders, he unjustly con- 
 demned and executed a brother-officer who had the 
 misfortune to displease the Rajah by some honest 
 freedoms; lastly, at a time of great danger to his native 
 land, he betrayed a body of his fellow-soldiers and 
 suffered them to be defeated and massacred by thou- 
 sands. In the end, he had amassed a magnificent 
 fortune, and brought home with him the coveted 
 diamond. 
 
 " Years passed," continued the Prince, " and at 
 length the diamond is accidentally lost. It falls into 
 the hands of a simple and laborious youth, a student, 
 a minister of God, just entering on a career of use- 
 fulness and even distinction. Upon him also the 
 spell is cast; he deserts everything, his holy calling, 
 his studies, and flees with the gem into a foreign coun- 
 try. The officer has a brother, an astute, daring, 
 unscrupulous man, who learns the clergyman's secret. 
 What does he do ? Tell his brother, inform the police ? 
 No; upon this man also the Satanic charm has fallen; 
 he must have the stone for himself. At the risk of 
 murder, he drugs the young priest and seizes the prey. 
 And now, by an accident which is not important - to 
 my moral, the jewel passes out of his custody into 
 that of another, who, terrified at what he sees, gives it 
 into the keeping of a man in high station and above 
 reproach. 
 
 " The officer's name is Thomas Vandeleur," con- 
 tinued Florizel. "The stone is called the Rajah's 
 Diamond. And " — suddenly opening his hand — " you 
 behold it here before your eyes." 
 
 The officer started back with a cry. 
 
 '* We have spoken of corruption," said the Prince. 
 " To me this nugget of bright crystal is as loathsome 
 as though it were crawling with the worms of death; it 
 is as shocking as though it were compacted out of inno-
 
 i;: NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 cent Mood. I sec it here in my hand, and I know it 
 is shining with hell-fire. I have told you but a hun- 
 dredth part of its story; what passed in former • 
 to what crimes and treacheries it incited men ofyore, 
 the imagination trembles to conceive; for years and 
 years it has faithfully served the' powers of hell; 
 enough, I say, of blood, enough of disgrace, enough Ot 
 broken lives and friendships; «all things come to an end, 
 the evil like the good; pestilence as well as beautiful 
 music; and as for this diamond, God forgive me if 1 
 do wrong, but its empire ends to-night." 
 
 The Prince made a sudden movement with his hand, 
 and the jewel, describing an arc of light, dived with a 
 splash into the flowing river. 
 
 " Amen," said Florizel, with gravity. "I have slain 
 a cockatrice ! " 
 
 "God pardon me!" cried the detective. "What 
 have you done ? I am a ruined man." 
 
 " I think," returned the Prince, with a smile, " that 
 manywell-to-do people in this city might envy you 
 your ruin." 
 
 ' Alas ! your Highness ! " said the officer, " and you 
 corrupt me after all ?" 
 
 " It seems there was no help for it," replied Florizel. 
 "And now let us go forward to the Prefecture." 
 
 Not long after, the marriage of Francis Scrymgeour 
 and Miss Vandeleur was celebrated in great privacy; 
 and the Prince acted on that occasion as groom's man. 
 The two Vandeleurs surprised some rumor of what 
 had happen to the diamond; and their vast diving 
 operations on the River Seine are the wonder and 
 amusement of the idle. It is true that through some 
 ilculation they have chosen the wrong branch of 
 the river. As for the Prince, that sublime person, 
 having now served his turn, may go, along with the 
 Arabian Author, topsy-turvy into space. Put if the 
 reader insists on more specific information, I am happy 
 to say that a recent revolution hurled him from the
 
 THE RA JAH'S DIA MOND. 1 7 3 
 
 throne of Bohemia, in consequence of his continued 
 absence and edifying neglect of public business; and 
 that his Highness now keeps a cigar store in Rupert 
 Street, much frequented by other foreign refugees. 
 I go there from time to time to smoke and have a 
 chat, and find him as great a creature as in the days of 
 his prosperity; he has an Olympian air behind the 
 counter; and although a sedentary life is beginning to 
 tell upon his waistcoat, he is probably, take him for all 
 in all, the handsomest tobacconist in London.
 
 THE PAVILION ON THE LINKS. 
 
 INSCRIBED TO 
 
 D. A. S. 
 
 IN MEMORY OF DA YS NEAR FIDRA.
 
 THE PA VI LI ON ON THE LINKS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 TELLS HOW I CAMPED IN GRADEN SEA-WOOD, AND BE- 
 HELD A LIGHT IN THE PAVILION. 
 
 I WAS a great solitary when I was young. I made 
 it my pride to keep aloof and suffice for my 
 own entertainment ; and I may say that I had neither 
 friends nor acquaintances until I met that friend who 
 became my wife and the mother of my children. With 
 one man only was I on private terms ; this was R. 
 Northmour, Esquire, of Graden Easter, in Scotland. 
 We had met at college ; and though there was not 
 much liking between us, nor even much intimacy, we 
 were so nearly of a humor that we could associate with 
 ease to both. Misanthropes, we believed ourselves to 
 be ; but I have thought since that we were only sulky 
 fellows. It was scarcely a companionship, but a 
 coexistence in unsociability. Northmour's exceptional 
 violence of temper made it no easy affair for him to 
 keep the peace with anyone but me ; and as he res- 
 pected by silent ways, and let me come and go as I 
 pleased, I could tolerate his presence without concern. 
 I think we called each other friends. 
 
 When Northmour took his degree and I decided to 
 leave the university without one, he invited me on a 
 long visit to Graden Easter ; and it was thus that I 
 first became acquainted with the scene of my adven- 
 tures. The mansion house of Graden stood in a bleak 
 stretch of country some three miles from the shore of 
 the German Ocean. It was as large as a barrack ; and 
 as it had been built of a soft stone, liable to consume 
 177
 
 i ; 8 NE II ' ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 in t lie eager air of the seaside, it was damp and 
 draughty within and half ruinous without. It was 
 impossible for two young men to lodge with comfort in 
 such a dwelling. But there stood in the northern part 
 of the estate, in a wilderness of links and blowing sand- 
 hills, and between a plantation and the sea, a small 
 Pavilion or Belvedere, of modern design, which was 
 tly suited to our wants ; ami in this hermitage, 
 speaking little, reading much, and rarely associating 
 except at meals, Xorthmour and I spent four tempes- 
 tuous winter months. I might have stayed longer ; 
 but one March night there sprang up between us a dis- 
 pute, which rendered my departure necessary. North- 
 mour spoke hotly, I remember, and I suppose I must 
 have made some tart rejoinder. He leaped from his 
 chair and grappled me ; I had to fight, without exag- 
 geration, for my life ; and it was only with a great 
 effort that I mastered him, for he was near as strong 
 in body as myself, and seemed filled with the devil. 
 The next morning, we met on our usual terms ; but 1 
 judged it more delicate to withdraw ; nor did he 
 attempt to dissuade me. 
 
 It was nine years before I revisited the neighbor- 
 hood. I traveled at thac time with a tilt cart, a tent, 
 and a cooking-stove, tramping all day beside the wag- 
 on, and at night, whenever it was possible, gipsying in 
 a cove of the hills, or by the side of a wood. I believe 
 I visited in this manner most of the wild and desolate 
 regions both in England and Scotland ; and, as I had 
 neither friends nor relations, I was troubled with no 
 correspondence, and had nothing in the nature of 
 head-quarters, unless it was the office of my solicitors, 
 from whom I drew my income twice a year. It was a 
 life in which I delighted ; and I fully thought to have 
 grown old upon the march, and at last died in a ditch. 
 
 It was my whole business to find desolate corners,' 
 where I could camp without the fear of interruption ; 
 and hence being in another part of the same shire, I 
 bethought me suddenly of the Pavilion on the Links.
 
 THE PAVILION ON THE LINKS. 179 
 
 No thoroughfare passed within three miles of it. The 
 nearest town, and that was but a fisher village, was at 
 a distance of six or seven. For ten miles of length, 
 and from a depth varying from three miles to half a 
 mile, this belt of barren country lay along the sea. 
 The beach, which was the natural approach, was full 
 of quicksands. Indeed I may say there is hardly a 
 better place of concealment in the United Kingdom. 
 I determined to pass a week in the Sea- Wood of Gra- 
 den- Easter, and making a long stage, reached it about 
 sundown on a wild September day. 
 
 The country, I have said, was mixed sand-hill and 
 links ; links being a Scottish name for sand which has 
 ceased drifting and become more or less solidly covered 
 with turf. The pavilion stood on an even space , a 
 little behind it, the wood began in a hedge of elders 
 huddled together by the wind ; in front, a few tumbled 
 sand-hills stood between it and the sea. An outcrop- 
 ping of rock had formed a bastion for the sand, so that 
 there was here a promontory in the coast-line between 
 two shallow bays : and just beyond the tides, the rock 
 again cropped out and formed an islet of small dimen- 
 sions but strikingly designed. The quicksands were 
 of great extent at low water, and had an infamous 
 reputation in the country. Close in shore, between the 
 islet and the promontory, it was said that they would 
 swallow a man in four minutes and a half ; but there 
 may have been little ground for this precision. The 
 district was alive with rabbits, and haunted by gulls 
 which made a continual piping about the pavilion. 
 On summer days the outlook was bright and even 
 gladsome ; but at sundown in September, with a high 
 wind, and a heavy surf rolling in close along the links, 
 the place told of nothing but dead mariners and sea 
 disasters. A ship beating to windward on the horizon, 
 and a huge truncheon of wreck half buried in the 
 sands at my feet, completed the innuendo of the scene. 
 
 The pavilion — it had been built by the last proprie- 
 tor, Northmour's uncle, a silly and prodigal virtuoso —
 
 NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 presented little signs of age. It was two stories in 
 height, Italian in design, surrounded by a patch of 
 g irden in which nothing had prospered hut a irw coarse 
 
 flowers; and looked, with its shuttered windows, not 
 like a house that had been deserted, hut like one that 
 had never been tenanted by man. Northmour was 
 
 plainly from home; whether, as usual, sulking in the 
 a of his yacht, or in one of his fitful and cxtrava- 
 gant appearances in the world of society, I had, of 
 course, no means of guessing. The place had an air 
 of solitude that daunted even a solitary like myself; 
 the wind cried in the chimneys with a strange and 
 wailing note ; and it was with a sense of escape, as if 
 I were going indoors, that I turned away and driving 
 my cart hefore me entered the skirts of the wood. 
 
 The Sea-Wood of Graden had been planted to shel- 
 ter the cultivated fields behind, and check the encroach- 
 ments of the blowing sand. As you advanced into it 
 from coastward, elders were succeeded by other hardy 
 shrubs ; but the timber was all stunted and bushy ; it 
 led a life of conflict ; the trees were accustomed to 
 swing there all night long in fierce winter tempests; and 
 even in early spring, the leaves were already flying, and 
 autumn was beginning, in this exposed plantation. 
 Inland the ground rose into a little hill, which, along 
 with the islet, served as a sailing mark for seamen. 
 When the hill was open of the islet to the north, ves- 
 sels must bear well to the eastward to clear Graden 
 Ness and the Graden Bullers. In the lower ground, a 
 streamlet ran among the trees, and, being dammed 
 with dead leaves and clay of its own carrying, spread 
 out every here and there, and lay in stagnant pools. 
 One or two ruined cottages were dotted about the 
 1 ; and, according to Northmour, these were eccle- 
 siastical foundations, and in their time had sheltered 
 hermits. 
 
 I found a den, or small hollow, where there was a 
 spring of pure water; and there, clearing away the 
 brambles, I pitched the tent, and made a lire to cook
 
 THE PAVILION ON THE LINKS. 181 
 
 my supper- My horse I picketed farther in the wood 
 where there was a patch of sward. The banks of the 
 den not only concealed the light of my fire, but 
 sheltered me from the wind, which was cold as well as 
 high. 
 
 The life I was leading made me both hardy and 
 frugal. I never drank but water, and rarely ate any- 
 thing more costly than oatmeal ; and I required so 
 little sleep, that, although I rose with the peep of day, 
 I would often lie long awake in the dark or starry 
 watches of the night. Thus in Graden Sea-Wood, 
 although I fell thankfully asleep by eight in the even- 
 ing I was awake again before eleven with a full posses- 
 sion of my faculties, and no sense of drowsiness or 
 fatigue. I rose and sat by the fire, watching the trees 
 and clouds tumultuously tossing and fleeing overhead, 
 and hearkening to the wind and rollers along the 
 shore; till at length, growing weary of inaction, I quitted 
 the den, and strolled towards the borders of the wood. 
 A young moon, buried in mist, gave a faint illumination 
 to my steps; and the light grew brighter as I walked 
 forth into the links. At the same moment, the wind, 
 smelling salt of the open ocean and carrying particles 
 of sand, struck me with its full force, so that I had to 
 bow my head. 
 
 When I raised it again to look about me, I was aware 
 of a light in the pavilion. It was not stationary; but 
 passed from one window to another, as though some 
 one were reviewing the different apartments with a 
 lamp or candle. I watched it for some seconds in 
 great surprise. When I had arrived in the afternoon 
 the house had been plainly deserted ; now it was as 
 plainly occupied. It was my first idea that a gang of 
 thieves might have broken in and be now ransacking 
 Northmour's cupboards, which were many and not ill 
 supplied. But what should bring thieves to Graden 
 Easter ? And, again, all the shutters had been thrown 
 open, and it would have been more in the character of 
 such gentry to close them. I dismissed the notion,
 
 ,$2 Nl W ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 and fell back upon another. Northmour himself must 
 have arrived, and was now airing and inspecting the 
 pavilion. 
 
 I have said that there was no real affe< tion between 
 this man and me; but, had I loved him like a brother, 
 I was then so much in love with solitude that I should 
 none the less have shunned his company. As it was, 
 I turned and ran for it; and it was with genuine satis- 
 fa< tion that I found myself safely back beside the fire. 
 I had escaped an acquaintance; I should have one 
 more night in comfort. In the morning, I might either 
 slip away before Northmour was abroad, or pay him as 
 short a visit as I chose. 
 
 But when morning came, I thought the situation so 
 diverting that I forgot my shyness. Northmour was 
 at my mercy; I arranged a good practical jest, though 
 I knew well that my neighbor was not the man to jest 
 with in security; and, chuckling beforehand over its 
 success, took my place among the elders at the edge of 
 the wood, whence I could command the door of the 
 pavilion. The shutters were all once more closed, 
 which I remember thinking odd; and the house, with 
 its white walls and green Venetians, looked spruce and 
 habitable in the morning light. Hour after hour 
 passed, and still no sign of Northmour. I knew him 
 for a sluggard in the morning; but, as it drew on 
 towards noon, I lost my patience. To say the truth, 
 I had promised myself to break my fast in the pavil- 
 ion, and hunger began to prick me sharply. It was a 
 pity to let the opportunity go by without some cause 
 for mirth; but the grosser appetite prevailed, and I 
 relinquished my jest with regret, and sallied from the 
 wood. 
 
 The appearance of the house affected me, as I drew 
 near, with disquietude. It seemed unchanged since 
 last evening; and I had expected it, I scarce knew 
 why, to wear some external signs of habitation. But 
 no: the windows were all closely shuttered, the chim- 
 neys breathed no smoke, and the front door itself was
 
 THE PA VI LION ON THE LINKS. 183 
 
 closely padlocked. Northmour, therefore, had entered 
 by the back; this was the natural, and, indeed, the 
 necessary conclusion; and you may judge of my sur- 
 prise when, on turning the house, I found the back 
 door similarly secured. 
 
 My mind at once reverted to the original theory of 
 thieves; and I blamed myself sharply for my last 
 night's inaction. I examined all the windows on the 
 lower story, but none of them had been tampered with; 
 I tried the padlocks, but they were both secure. It 
 thus became a problem how the thieves, if thieves they 
 were, had managed to enter the house. They must 
 have got, I reasoned, upon the roof of the outhouse 
 where Northmour used to keep his photographic bat- 
 tery; and from thence, either by the window of the 
 study or that of my old bedroom, completed their bur- 
 glarious entry. 
 
 I followed what I supposed was their example; and, 
 getting on the roof, tried the shutters of each room. 
 Both were secure; but I was not to be beaten; and, 
 with a little force, one of them flew open, grazing, as it 
 did so, the back of my hand. I remember, I put the 
 wound to my mouth, and stood for perhaps half a min- 
 ute licking it like a dog, and mechanically gazing 
 behind me over the waste links and the sea; and, in 
 that space of time, my eye made note of a large 
 schooner yacht some miles to the north-east. Then I 
 threw up the window and climbed in. 
 
 I went over the house, and nothing can express my 
 mystification. There was no sign of disorder, but, on 
 the contrary, the rooms were unusually clean and pleas- 
 ant. I found fires laid, ready for lighting; three bed 
 rooms prepared with a luxury quite foreign to North- 
 mour's habits, and with water in the ewers and the beds 
 turned down; a table set for three in the dining-room; 
 and an ample supply of cold meats, game and vegeta- 
 bles on the pantry shelves. There were guests 
 expected, that was plain; but why guests, when North- 
 mour hated society ? And, above all, why was the
 
 iS| N£ //• ARABIAN NIGHTS 
 
 house thus stealthily prepared at dead of night? and 
 why wort.- the shutters closed and the doors padlocked ? 
 I effaced all traces of my visit, and came forth from 
 the window feeling sobered and concerned. 
 
 The schooner yacht was still in the same place; and 
 it Bashed for a moment through my mind that this 
 might be the Red Earl bringing the owner of the 
 pavilion and his guests. But the vessel's head was set 
 the other way.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 TELLS OF THE NOCTURNAL LANDING FROM THE YACHT. 
 
 I returned to the den to cook myself a meal, of 
 which I stood in great need, as well as to care for my 
 horse, whom I had somewhat neglected in the morning. 
 From time to time I went down to the edge of the 
 wood ; but there was no change in the pavilion, and 
 not a human creature was -seen all day upon the links. 
 The schooner in the offing was the one touch of life 
 within my range of vision. She, apparently with no 
 set object, stood off and on or lay to, hour after hour ; 
 but as the evening deepened, she drew steadily nearer. 
 I became more convinced that she carried Northmour 
 and his friends, and that they would probably come 
 ashore after dark ; not only because that was of a piece 
 with the secresy of the preparations, but because the 
 tide would not have flowed sufficiently before eleven to 
 cover Graden Floe and the other sea quags that fortified 
 the shore against invaders. 
 
 All day the wind had been going down, and the sea 
 along with it ; but there was a return towards sunset of 
 the heavy weather of the day before. The night set in 
 pitch dark. The wind came off the sea in squalls, like 
 the firing of a battery of cannon ; now and then there 
 was a flaw of rain, and the surf rolled heavier with the 
 rising tide. I was down at my observatory among the 
 elders, when a light was run up to the masthead of the 
 schooner, and showed she was closer in than when 
 I had last seen her by the dying daylight. I concluded 
 that this must be a signal to Northmour's associates on 
 shore; and, stepping forth into the links, looked around 
 me for something in response. 
 
 A small footpath ran along the margin of the wood, 
 and formed the most direct communication between
 
 iS6 NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 the pavilion and the mansion house ; and, as least my 
 eyes to that side, I saw a spark of light, not a quarter 
 
 mile away, ami rapidly approaching. From its 
 uneven course it appeared to be the light of a lantern 
 carried by a person who followed the windings of the 
 path, and was often Staggered and taken aback by the 
 more violent squalls. 1 concealed myself once more 
 among the elders, and waited eag Hv for the new 
 comer's advance. It proved to be a woman ; and, as 
 she passed within half a rod of my ambush, I was able 
 to recognize the features. The deaf and silent old 
 dame, who had nursed Northmourin his childhood, was 
 his associate in this underhand affair. 
 
 I followed her at a little distance; taking advantage 
 of the innumerable heights and hollows, concealed by 
 the darkness, and favored not only by the nurse's deaf- 
 ness, but the uproarof the wind and surf. Sheentered 
 the pavilion, and, going at once to the upper story, 
 opened and set a light in one of t'he windows that looked 
 towards the sea. Immediately afterwards the light at 
 the schooner's masthead was run down and extin- 
 guished. Its purpose had been attained, and those on 
 board were sure that they were expected. The old 
 woman resumed her preparations ; although the other 
 shutters remained closed, I could see a glimmer going 
 to and fro about the house ; and a gush of sparks from 
 one chimney after another soon told me that the fires 
 were being kindled. 
 
 Northmour and his guests, I was now persuaded, 
 would come ashore as soon as there was water on the 
 floe. It was a wild night for boat service; and I felt some 
 alarm mingle with my curiosity as I reflected on the 
 danger of the landing. My old acquaintance, it was 
 true, was the most eccentric of men ; but the present 
 eccentricity was both disquieting and lugubrious to 
 consider. A variety of feelings thus led me towards 
 the beach, where I lay flat on my face in a hollow with- 
 in six feet of the track that led to the pavilion. 
 Thence, I should have the satisfaction of recognizing
 
 THE PA VI LI ON ON THE LINKS. 187 
 
 the arrivals, and, if they should prove to be acquaint- 
 ances, greeting them as soon as they had landed. 
 
 Some time before eleven, while the tide was still 
 dangerously low, a boat's lantern appeared close in 
 shore ; and, my attention being thus awakened, I could 
 perceive another still far to seaward, violently tossed, 
 and sometimes hidden by the billows. The weather, 
 which was getting dirtier as the night went on, and the 
 perilous situation of the yacht upon a lee-shore, had 
 probably driven them to attempt a landing at the ear- 
 liest possible moment. 
 
 A little afterwards, four yachtsmen carrying a very 
 heavy chest, and guided by a fifth with a lantern, passed 
 close in front of me as I lay, and were admitted to the 
 pavilion by the nurse. They returned to the beach, and 
 passed me a third time with another chest, larger but 
 apparently not so heavy as the first. A third time they 
 made the transit ; and on this occasion one of the 
 yachtsmen carried a leather portmanteau, and the others 
 a lady's trunk and carriage bag. My curiosity was 
 sharply excited. If a woman were among the guests 
 of Northmour, it would show a change in his habits and 
 an apostasy from his pet theories of life, well calculated 
 to fill me with surprise. When he and I dwelt there 
 together, the pavilion had been a temple of misogyny. 
 And now, one of the detested sex was to be installed 
 under its roof. I remembered one or two particulars, 
 a few notes of daintiness and almost of coquetry which 
 had struck me the day before as I surveyed the prepa- 
 rations in the house ; their purpose was now clear, and 
 I thought myself dull not to have perceived it from the 
 first. 
 
 While I was thus reflecting a second lantern drew 
 near me from the beach. It was carried by a yachts- 
 man whom I had not yet seen, and who was conduct- 
 ing two other persons to the pavilion. These two 
 persons were unquestionably the guests for whom 
 the house was made ready; and, straining eye and 
 car, I set myself to watch them as they passed. One
 
 iSS .w W AJtAl IAN h h UTS. 
 
 was an unusually tall man. in a trawling hat slou< d 
 over his eyes, and a highland cape closely buttoned 
 and turned up so as to conceal his face. You could 
 make out no more of him than that he was, as I have 
 said, unusually tall, and walked feebly with a heavy 
 stoop. By his side, and either clinging to him or giv- 
 ing him support — 1 could not make out which — was a 
 young, tall, and slender figure of a woman. She was 
 extremely pale; but in the light of the lantern her face 
 was so marred by strong and changing shadows, that 
 she might equally well have been as ugly as sin or as 
 beautiful as I afterwards found her to be. 
 
 When they were just abreast of me, the girl made 
 some remark which was drowned by the noise of the 
 wind. 
 
 " Hush! " said her companion; and there was some- 
 thing in the tone with which the word was uttered 
 that thrilled and rather shook my spirits. It seemed 
 to breathe from a bosom laboring under the deadliest 
 terror; I have never heard another syllable so express- 
 ive; and I still hear it again when I am feverish at 
 night, and my mind runs upon old times. The man 
 turned towards the girl as he spoke; I had a glimpse 
 of much red beard and a nose which seemed to have 
 been broken in youth; and his light eyes seemed 
 shining in his face with some strong and unpleasant 
 emotion. 
 
 But these two passed on and were admitted in their 
 turn to the pavilion. 
 
 One by one, or in groups, the seamen returned to 
 
 the beach. The wind brought me the sound of a 
 
 crying, "Shove off!" Then, after a 
 
 pause, another lantern drew near. It was Northmour 
 
 alone. 
 
 My wife and I, a man and a woman, have often 
 agreed to wonder how a person could be, at the same 
 time, so handsome and so repulsive as Northmour. 
 He had the appearance of a finished gentleman; his 
 face bore every mark of intelligence and courage, but
 
 THE PA VILION ON THE LINKS. l8g 
 
 you had only to look at him, even in his most amiable 
 moment, to see that he had the temper of a slave cap- 
 tain. I never knew a character that was both explos- 
 ive and revengeful to the same degree; he combined 
 the vivacity of the south with the sustained and deadly 
 hatreds of the north; and both traits were plainly 
 written on his face, which was a sort of danger signal. 
 In person he was tall, strong, and active; his hair and 
 complexion very dark; his features handsomely 
 designed, but spoiled by a menacing expression. 
 
 At that moment he was somewhat paler than by 
 nature; he wore a heavy frown; and his lips worked, 
 and he looked sharply round as he walked, like a man 
 besieged with apprehensions. And yet I thought he 
 had a look of triumph underlying all, as though he had 
 already done much, and was near the end of an 
 achievement. 
 
 Partly from a scruple of delicacy — which I dare say 
 came too late — partly from the pleasure of startling an 
 acquaintance, I desired to make my presence known 
 to him without delay. 
 
 I got suddenly to my feet, and stepped forward. 
 
 " Northmour ! " said I. 
 
 I have never had so shocking a surprise in all my 
 days. He leaped on me without a word; something 
 shone in his hand; and he struck for my heart with a 
 dagger. At the same moment I knocked him head 
 over heels. Whether it was my quickness, or his own 
 uncertainty, I know not; but the blade only grazed my 
 shoulder while the hilt and his fist struck me violently 
 on the mouth. 
 
 I fled, but not far. I had often and often observed 
 the capabilities of the sand-hills for protracted ambush 
 or stealthy advances and retreats; and, not ten yards 
 from the scene of the scuffle, plumped down again 
 upon the grass. The lantern had fallen and gone out. 
 But what was my astonishment to see Northmour slip 
 at a bound into the pavilion, and hear him bar the 
 door behind him with a clang of iron!
 
 i QO NE II' . I A', l /•'/. / N NIGH TS. 
 
 He had not pursued roe. He had runaway. North- 
 mour, whom I knew t'« >r the most implacable and dar- 
 ing 01 men, had run away! I could scarce believe my 
 a; and yet in this strange business, where all was 
 incredible, there was nothing to make a work about in 
 an incredibility more or less. For why was the pavilion 
 se< retly prepared ? Why had Northmour landed with 
 
 \ lests at dead of night, in half a gale of wind, and 
 with the floe - »vered ? Why had he sought to 
 
 kill me ? Had lie not recognized my voice ? I won- 
 dered. And, above all, how had he come to have a 
 
 ger ready in his hand ? A dagger, or even a sharp 
 knife, seemed out of keeping with the age in which we 
 lived; and a gentleman landing from his yacht on the 
 shore of his own estate, even although it was at night 
 and with some mysterious circumstances, docs not 
 usually, as a matter of fact, walk thus prepared for 
 deadly onslaught. The more I reflected, the further I 
 felt at sea. I recapitulated the elements of mystery, 
 counting them on my fingers: the pavilion secretly 
 prepared for guests; the guests landed at the risk of 
 their lives and to the imminent peril of the yacht; the 
 guests, or at least one of them, in undisguised and 
 seemingly causeless terror; Northmour with a naked 
 weapon; Northmour stabbing his most intimate ac- 
 quaintance at a word ; last, and not least strange, 
 Northmour fleeing from the man whom he had sought 
 to murder, and barricading himself, like a hunted 
 creature, behind the door of the pavilion. Here were 
 at least six separate causes for extreme surprise; each 
 part and parcel with the others, and forming all to- 
 gether one consistent story. I felt almost ashamed 
 to believe my own senses. 
 
 I thus stood transfixed with wonder, I began to 
 grow painfully conscious of the injuries I had received 
 in the scuffle; skulked round among the sand-hills; 
 and, by a devious path, regained the shelter of the 
 wood. On the way, the old nurse passed again within 
 rai yards of me, still carrying her lantern, on the
 
 THE PA VI LION ON THE LINKS. 191 
 
 return journey to the mansion-house of Graden. This 
 made a seventh suspicious feature in the case. North- 
 raour and his guests, it appeared, were to cook and do 
 the cleaning for themselves, while the old woman con- 
 tinued to inhabit the big empty barrack among the 
 policies. There must surely be great cause for 
 secresy, when so many inconveniences were confronted 
 to preserve it. 
 
 So thinking, I made my way to the den. For 
 greater security, I trod out the embers of the fire, and 
 lit my lantern to examine the wound upon my shoul- 
 der. It was a trifling hurt, although it bled somewhat 
 freely, and I dressed it as well as I could (for its 
 position made it difficult to reach) with some rag and 
 cold water from the spring. While I was thus busied, 
 I mentally declared war against Northmour and his 
 mystery. I am not an angry man by nature, and I 
 believe there was more curiosity than resentment in 
 my heart. But war I certainly declared; and, by way 
 of preparation, I got out my revolver, and, having 
 drawn the charges, cleaned and reloaded it with scru- 
 pulous care. Next I became preoccupied about my 
 horse. It might break loose, or fall to neighing, and 
 so betray my camp in the Sea-Wood. I determined 
 to rid myself of its neighborhood; and long before 
 dawn I was leading it over the links in the direction 
 oi ths* fisher village.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 TELLS HOW i in ami. ACQUAINTED WITH MY WIFE. 
 
 F>>r two days I skulked round the pavilion, profiting 
 by the uneven surface of the links. I became an 
 adept in the necessary tactics. These low hillocks and 
 shallow dells, running one into another, became a kind 
 of cloak of darkness for my enthralling, but perhaps 
 dishonorable, pursuit. Yet, in spite of this advantage, 
 I could learn but little of Northmour or his guests. 
 
 Fresh provisions were brought under cover of dark- 
 ness by the old woman from the mansion-house. 
 Northmour, and the young lady, sometimes together, 
 but more often singly, would walk for an hour or two 
 at a time on the beach beside the cpuicksand. I could 
 not but conclude that this promenade was chosen with 
 an eye to secresy: for the spot was open only to the 
 seaward. But it suited me not less excellently; the 
 highest and most accidented of the sand-hills immedi- 
 ately adjoined; and from these, lying flat in a hollow, 
 I could overlook Northmour or the young lady as they 
 walked. 
 
 The tall man seemed to have disappeared. Not 
 only did he never cross the threshold, but he never so 
 mu< h as showed face at a window; or, at least, not 
 so far as I could see; for I dared not creep forward 
 beyond a certain distance in the day, since the upper 
 floor commanded the bottoms of the links; and at 
 night, when I could venture farther, the lower windows 
 were barricaded as if to stand a siege. Sometimes I 
 thought the tall man must be confined to bed, for I 
 remembered the feebleness of his gait; and sometimes 
 I thought he must have gone clear away, and that 
 Northmour and the young lady remained alone 
 192
 
 THE PAVILION ON THE LINKS. 1 93 
 
 together in the pavilion. The idea, even then, dis- 
 pleased me. 
 
 Whether or not this pair were man and wife, I had 
 seen abundant reason to doubt the friendliness of their 
 relation. Although I could hear nothing of what they 
 said, and rarely so much as glean a decided expression 
 on the face of either, there was a distance, almost a 
 stiffness, in their bearing which showed them to be 
 either unfamiliar or at enmity. The girl walked faster 
 when she was with Northmour than when she wa? 
 alone; and I conceived that any inclination between a 
 man and a woman would rather delay than accelerate 
 the step. Moreover, she kept a good yard free of him, 
 and trailed her umbrella, as if it were a barrier, on the 
 side between them. Northmour kept sidling closer; 
 and, as the girl retired from his advance, their course 
 lay at a sort of diagonal across the beach, and would 
 have landed them in the surf had it been long enough 
 continued. But, when it was imminent, the girl would 
 unostentatiously change sides and put Northmour 
 between her and the sea. I watched these manoeuvres, 
 for my part, with high enjoyment and approval, and 
 chuckled to myself at every move. 
 
 On the morning of the third day, she walked alone 
 for some time, and I perceived, to my great concern, 
 that she was more than once in tears. You will see 
 that my heart was already interested more than I sup- 
 posed. She had a firm yet airy motion of the body, 
 and carried her head with unimaginable grace; every 
 step was a thing to look at, and she seemed in my eyes 
 to breathe sweetness and distinction. 
 
 The day was so agreeable, being calm and sunshiny, 
 with a tranquil sea, and yet with a healthful piquancy 
 and vigor in the air, that, contrary to custom, she was 
 tempted forth a second time to walk. On this occa- 
 sion she was accompanied by Northmour, and they had 
 been but a short while on the beach, when I saw him 
 take forcible possession of her hand. She struggled, 
 and uttered a cry that was almost a scream. I sprang
 
 194 Nl W ARAB) ' UTS. 
 
 to mv feet, unmindful of my strange position; but, i re 
 I had taken a step. I saw Northmour bare-headed and 
 bowing mtv low, ;is if to apologize; and dropped again 
 at once into my ambush. A few words were inter- 
 chanj then, with another bow, he left the beach 
 
 to n turn to the pavilion. He passed not far from me, 
 and I could see him, Bushed and lowering, and cutting 
 with his cane among the grass. It was not 
 without satisfaction that I recognized my own handi- 
 work in a great cut under his right eye, and a consid- 
 le discoloration round the socket. 
 
 For some time the girl remained where he had left 
 her, looking out past the islet and over the bright sea. 
 Then with a start, as one who throws off preoccupation 
 and puts energy again upon its mettle, she broke into 
 a rapid and decisive walk. She also was much 
 incensed by what had passed. She had forgotten 
 where she was. And I beheld her walk straight into 
 the borders of the quicksand where it is most abrupt 
 and dangerous. Two or three steps farther and her 
 life would have been in serious jeopardy, when I slid 
 down the face of the sand-hill, which is there precipitous, 
 and, running half-way forward, called to her to stop. 
 
 She did so, and turned round. There was not a 
 tremor of fear in her behavior, and she marched 
 directly up to me like a queen. I was barefoot, and 
 clad like a common sailor, save for an Egyptian scarf 
 round my waist; and she probably took me at first for 
 some one from the fisher village, straying after bait. 
 As for her, when I thus saw her face to face, her eyes 
 teadily and imperiously upon mine, I was filled 
 with admiration and astonishment, and thought her 
 autiful than I had looked to find her. 
 Nor could I think enough of one who, acting with so 
 mui h boldness, yet preserved a maidenly air that was 
 both quaint and engaging ; for my wife kept an old- 
 fashioned precision of manner through all her admir- 
 able life — an excellent thing in woman, since it sets 
 another value on her sweet familiarities.
 
 THE PA VI LION ON THE LINKS, 1 95 
 
 " What does this mean ? " she asked. 
 
 " You were walking," I told her, " directly into 
 Graden Floe." 
 
 " You do not belong to these parts," she said again. 
 " You speak like an educated man." 
 
 " I believe I have a right to that name," said I, 
 "although in this disguise." 
 
 But her woman's eye had already detected the sash. 
 
 " Oh ! " she said; "your sash betrays you." 
 
 " You have said the word betray" I resumed. " May 
 I ask you not to betray me ? I was obliged to disclose 
 myself in your interest; but if Northmour learned my 
 presence it might be worse than disagreeable for me." 
 
 " Do you know," she asked, " to whom you are 
 speaking ? " 
 
 " Not to Mr. Northmour's wife?" I asked, by way 
 of answer. 
 
 She shook her head. All this while she was study- 
 ing my face with an embarrassing intentness. Then 
 she broke out — 
 
 " You have an honest face. Be honest like your 
 face, sir, and tell me what you want and what you are 
 afraid of. Do you think I could hurt you ? I believe 
 you have far more power to injure me ! And yet you 
 do not look unkind. What do you mean — you, a gen- 
 tleman — by skulking like a spy about this desolate 
 place ? Tell me," she said, " who is it you hate ? " 
 
 "I hate no one," I answered; "and I fear no one 
 face to face. My name is Cassilis — Frank Cassilis. I 
 lead the life of a vagabond for my own good pleasure. 
 I am one of Northmour's oldest friends; and three 
 nights ago, when I addressed him on these links, he 
 stabbed me in the shoulder with a knife." 
 
 "It was you ! " she said. 
 
 " Why he did so," I continued, disregarding the 
 interruption, " is more than I can guess, and more 
 than I care to know. I have not many friends, nor 
 am I very susceptible to friendship; but no man shall 
 drive me from a place by terror. I had camped in
 
 196 Nl it ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 Graden Sea-Wood ere he came; I camp in it still. If 
 
 you think I inc. 111 harm to you or yours, madam, the 
 remedy is in your hand. Tell him that my camp is in 
 the Hemlock Den, and to-night he can stah me in 
 
 v while I sleep." 
 
 With this I doited my cap to her, and scrambled up 
 once more among the sand-hills. I do not know why, 
 hut 1 felt a prodigious sense of injustice, and felt like 
 a hero and a martyr; while, as a matter of fact, I had 
 not a word to say in my defence, nor so much as one 
 plausible reason to offer for my conduct. 1 had 
 stayed at Graden out of a curiosity natural enough, 
 but undignified; and though there was another motive 
 growing in along with the first, it was not one which, 
 at that period, I could have properly explained to the 
 lady of my heart. 
 
 ( ertainly, that night, I thought of no one else; and, 
 though her whole conduct and position seemed sus- 
 picious, I could not find it in my heart to entertain a 
 doubt of her integrity. I could have staked my life 
 that she was clear of blame, and, though all was dark 
 at the present, that the explanation of the mystery- 
 would show her part in these events to be both right 
 and needful. It was true, let me cudgel my imagina- 
 tion as I pleased, that I could invent no theory of her 
 relations to Xorthmour; but I felt none the less sure 
 of my conclusion because it was founded on instinct in 
 place of reason, and, as I may say, went to sleep that 
 night with the thought of her under my pillow. 
 
 Next day she came out about the same hour alone, 
 and, as soon as the sand-hills concealed her from the 
 pavilion, drew nearer to the edge, and called me by 
 name in guarded tones. I was astonished to observe 
 that she was deadly pale, and seemingly under the 
 influence of strong emotion. 
 
 '• Mr. Cassilis ! " she cried ; " Mr. Cassilis ! " 
 
 I appeared at once, and leaped down upon the 
 beach. A remarkable air of relief overspread her 
 countenance as soon as she saw me.
 
 THE PA VI LI ON ON THE LINKS. 197 
 
 " Oh ! " she cried, with a hoarse sound, like one 
 whose bosom has been lightened of weight. And then. 
 " Thank God, you are still safe ! " she added ; " I 
 knew, if you were, you would be here." (Was not 
 this strange ? So swiftly and wisely does Nature pre- 
 pare our hearts for these great life-long intimacies, that 
 both my wife and I had been given a presentiment on 
 this the second day of our acquaintance. I had even 
 then hoped that she would seek me ; she had felt sure 
 that she would find me.) " Do not," she went on 
 swiftly, "do not stay in this place. Promise me that 
 you will sleep no longer in that wood. You do not 
 know how I suffer ; all last night I could not sleep for 
 thinking of your peril." 
 
 " Peril ?" I repeated. " Peril from whom ? From 
 Northmour?" 
 
 " Not so," she said. " Did you think I would tell 
 him after what you said ? " 
 
 " Not from Northmour ?" I repeated. " Then how ? 
 From whom ? I see none to be afraid of." 
 
 " You must not ask me," was her reply, " for I am 
 not free to tell you. Only believe me, and go hence 
 ■ — believe me, and go away quickly, quickly, for your 
 life ! " 
 
 An appeal to his alarm is never a good plan to rid 
 oneself of a spirited young man. My obstinacy was 
 but increased by what she said, and I made it a point 
 of honor to remain. And her solicitude for my safety 
 still more confirmed me in the resolve. 
 
 "You must not think me inquisitive, madam," I 
 replied ; " but, if Graden is so dangerous a place, you 
 yourself perhaps remain here at some risk." 
 
 She only looked at me reproachfully. 
 
 " You and your father ," I resumed ; but she 
 
 interrupted me almost with a gasp. 
 
 " My father ! How do you know that ?" she cried. 
 
 " I saw you together when you landed," was my 
 answer ; and I do not know why, but it seemed satis- 
 factory to both of us, as indeed it was the truth.
 
 .." ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 " But," I continued, "you need have no fear from me. 
 : have some reason to be secret, and, you 
 may believe me, your se< ret is as safe with me as if I 
 in Graden Floe. I have si arce spoken to any- 
 one for years; my horse is my only companion, and 
 even he, poor beast, is not beside me. You see, then, 
 mt on me for silent e. So tell me the 
 truth, my dear young lady, are you not in danger? " 
 
 " Mr. North mour says you are an honorable man," 
 she returned, "and I believe it when I see you. I will 
 tell you so much ; you are right ; we are in dreadful, 
 dreadful danger, and you share it by remaining where 
 you are." 
 
 "Ah ! " said I ; " you have heard of me from North- 
 mour ? And lie gives me a good character ? " 
 
 " I asked him about you last night," was her reply. 
 " I pretended," she hesitated, " I pretended to have 
 met you long ago, and spoken to you of him. It was 
 not true ; but I could not help myself without betray- 
 ing you, and you had put me in a difficulty. He 
 praised you highly." 
 
 "And — you may permit me one question — does this 
 danger come from Northmour?" I asked. 
 
 " From Mr. Northmour ? " she cried. " Oh, no ; he 
 stays with us to share it." 
 
 "While you propose that I should run away ?" I 
 said. " You do not rate me very high." 
 
 " Why should you stay ? " she asked. " You are no 
 friend of ours." 
 
 I know not what came over me, for I had not been 
 conscious of a similar weakness since I was a child. 
 but I was so mortified by this retort that my eyes 
 pricked and filled with tears, as I continued to gaze 
 ujxjn her face. 
 
 '" No, no," she said, in a changed voice ; " I did not 
 mean the words unkindly." 
 
 " It was I who offended," I said ; and I held out 
 my hand with a look of appeal that somehow touched 
 her, for she gave me hers at once, and even eagerly. I
 
 THE PAVILION ON THE LINKS. 199 
 
 held it for awhile in mine, and gazed into her eyes. 
 It was she who first tore her hand away, and, forget- 
 ting all about her request and the promise she had 
 sought to extort, ran at the top of her speed, and with- 
 out turning, till she was out of sight. And then I 
 knew that I loved her, and thought in my glad heart 
 that she — she herself — was not indifferent to my suit. 
 Many a time she has denied it in after days, but it was 
 with a smiling and not a serious denial. For my part, 
 I am sure our hands would not have lain so closely in 
 each other if she had not begun to melt to me already. 
 And, when all is said, it is no great contention, since, 
 by her own avowal, she began to love me on the mor- 
 row. 
 
 And yet on the morrow very little took place. She 
 came and called me down as on the day before, 
 upbraided me for lingering at Graden, and, when she 
 found I was still obdurate, began to ask me more par- 
 ticularly as to my arrival. I told her by what series of 
 accidents I had come to witness their disembarkation, 
 and how I had determined to remain, partly from the 
 interest which had been wakened in me by North- 
 mour's guests, and partly because of his own murder- 
 ous attack. As to the former, I fear I was disingenu- 
 ous, and led her to regard herself as having been an 
 attraction to me from the first moment that I saw her 
 on the links. It relieves my heart to make this con- 
 fession even now, when my wife is with God, and 
 already knows all things, and the honesty of my pur- 
 pose even in this ; for while she lived, although it often 
 pricked my conscience, I had never the hardihood to 
 undeceive her. Even a little secret, in such a married 
 life as ours, is like the rose-leaf which kept the Prin- 
 cess from her sleep. 
 
 From this the talk branched into other subjects, and 
 I told her much about my lonely and wandering exist- 
 ence ; she, for her part, giving ear, and saying little. 
 Although we spoke very naturally, and latterly on 
 topics that might seem indifferent, we were both sweetly
 
 200 NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 agitated. Too soon it was time for her to go ; and we 
 sepai it' by mutual consent, without shaking 
 
 hands, for both knew that, between us, it was no idle 
 ceremony. 
 
 The next, and that was the fourth day of our 
 acquaintance, we met in the same spot, but early in 
 the morning, with much familiarity and yet much tim- 
 idity on either side. When she had once more spoken 
 about my danger — and that, I understood, was her 
 ex< use for coming — I, who bad prepared a great deal 
 of talk during the night, began to tell her how highly I 
 valued her kind interest, and how no one had ever 
 cared to hear about my life, nor had I ever cared to 
 relate it, before yesterday. Suddenly she interrupted 
 me, saying with vehemence — 
 
 "And yet, if you knew who I was, you would not so 
 much as speak to me ! " 
 
 I told her such a thought was madness, and, little as 
 we had met, I counted her already a dear friend ; but 
 my protestations seemed only to make her more des- 
 perate. 
 
 " My father is in hiding ! " she cried. 
 
 " My dear," I said, forgetting for the first time to 
 add " young lady," "what do I care? If he were in 
 hiding twenty times over, would it make one thought 
 of change in you ? " 
 
 " Ah, but the cause ! " she cried, " the cause ! It is 
 
 " she faltered for a second — <: it is disgraceful to 
 
 us ! "
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 TELLS IN WHAT A STARTLING MANNER I LEARNEI1 
 THAT I WAS NOT ALONE IN GRADEN SEA-WOOD. 
 
 This was my wife's story, as I drew it from her 
 among tears and sobs. Her name was Clara Huddle- 
 stone : it sounded very beautiful in my ears ; but not 
 so beautiful as that other name of Clara Cassilis, which 
 she wore during the longer and, I thank God, the hap- 
 pier portion of her life. Her father, Bernard Huddle- 
 stone, had been a private banker in a very large way 
 of business. Many years before, his affairs becoming 
 disordered, he had been led to try dangerous, and at 
 last criminal, expedients to retrieve himself from ruin. 
 All was in vain ; he became more and more cruelly 
 involved, and found his honor lost at the same moment 
 with his fortune. About this period, Northmour had 
 been courting his daughter with great assiduity, though 
 with small encouragement ; and to him, knowing him 
 thus disposed in his favor, Bernard Huddlestone turned 
 for help in his extremity. It was not merely ruin and 
 dishonor, nor merely a legal condemnation, that the 
 unhappy man had brought on his head. It seems he 
 could have gone to prison with a light heart. What he 
 feared, what kept him awake at night or recalled him 
 from slumber into frenzy, was some secret, sudden, 
 and unlawful attempt upon his life. Hence, he 
 desired to bury his existence and escape to one of the 
 islands in the South Pacific, and it was in Northmour's 
 yacht, the Red Earl, that he designed to go. The 
 yacht picked them up clandestinely upon the coast of 
 Wales, and had once more deposited them at Graden, 
 till she could be refitted and provisioned for the longer 
 voyage. Nor could Clara doubt that her hand had 
 201
 
 202 NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 been stipulated as the price of passage. For, although 
 Northmour was neither unkind or discourteous, he had 
 shown himself in several instances somewhat overbold 
 in speech and manner. 
 
 I listened, I aeed not say, with fixed attention, and 
 put many questions as to the more mysterious part. 
 It was in vain. She had no clear idea of what the 
 Mow was, nor of how it was expected to fall. Her 
 father's alarm was unfeigned and physically prostrat- 
 ing, and he had thought more than once of making 
 an unconditional surrender to the police. But the 
 scheme was finally abandoned, for he was convinced 
 that not even the strength of our English prisons could 
 shelter him from his pursuers. He had had many 
 affairs with Italy, and with Italians resident in London, 
 in the later years of his business; and these last, as 
 Clara fancied, were somehow connected with the doom 
 that threatened him. He had shown great terror at 
 the presence of an Italian seaman on board the Red 
 Earl, and had bitterly and repeatedly accused North- 
 mour in consequence. The latter had protested that 
 Beppo (that was the seaman's name) was a capital fel- 
 low, and could be trusted to the death; but Mr. Hud- 
 dlestone had continued ever since to declare that all 
 was lost, that it was. only a question of days, and that 
 Beppo would be the rui-n of him yet. 
 
 I regarded the whole story as the hallucination of & 
 mind shaken by calamity. He had suffered heavy loss 
 by his Italian transactions; and hence the sight of an 
 Italian was hateful to him, and the principal part in 
 his nightmare would naturally enough be played by 
 one of that nation. 
 
 " What your father wants," I said, " is a good doctor 
 and some calming medicine." 
 
 "But Mr. Northmour?" objected your mother. 
 " He is untroubled by losses, and yet he shares in this 
 terror." 
 
 I could not help laughing at what I considered her 
 simplicity.
 
 THE FA VILION ON THE LINKS. 203 
 
 " My dear," said I, " you have told me yourself what 
 reward he has to look for. All is fair in love, you 
 must remember; and if Northmour foments your 
 father's terrors, it is not at all because he is afraid of 
 any Italian man, but simply because he is infatuated 
 with a charming English woman." 
 
 She reminded me cf his attack upon myself on the 
 night of the disembarkation, and this I was unable to 
 explain. In short, and from one thing to another, it 
 was agreed between us, that I should set out at once 
 for the fisher village, Graden Wester, as it was called, 
 look up all the newspapers 1 could find, and see for 
 myself if there seemed any basis of fact for these con- 
 tinued alarms. The next morning, at the same hour 
 and place, I was to make my report to Clara. She 
 said no more on that occasion about my departure; 
 nor indeed, did she make it a secret that she clung to 
 the thought or my proximity as something helpful and 
 pleasant; and, for my part, I could not have left her, 
 if she had gone upon her knees to ask it. 
 
 I reached Graden Wester before ten in the forenoon; 
 for in those days I was an excellent pedestrian, and 
 the distance, as I think I have said, was little over 
 seven miles; fine walking all the way upon the springy 
 turf. The village is one of the bleakest on that coast, 
 which is saying much: there is a church in a hollow, 
 a miserable haven in the rocks, where many boats have 
 been lost as they returned from fishing; two or three 
 score of stone houses arranged along the beach and. in 
 two streets, one leading from the harbor, and another 
 striking out from it at right angles; and, at the corner 
 of these two, a very dark and cheerless tavern, by way 
 of principal hotel. 
 
 I had dressed myself somewhat more suitably to my 
 station in life, and at once called upon the minister in 
 his little manse beside the graveyard. He knew me, 
 although it was more than nine years since we had 
 met; and when I told him that I had been long upon 
 <x walking tour, and was behind with the news, readily
 
 -• t NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 lent me an armful of newspapers, dating from a month 
 back to the day before. With these 1 sought the tav- 
 ern, and, ordering some breakfast, sat down to study 
 the " I [uddlestone Failure." 
 
 It had been, it appeared, a very flagrant rase. 
 Thousands of persons were reduced to poverty; and 
 one in particular had blown out his brains as soon as 
 payment was suspended. It was strange to myself 
 that, while I read these details, I continued rather to 
 sympathize with Mr. Huddlestone than with his vic- 
 tims; so complete already was the empire of my love 
 for my wife. A price was naturally set upon the 
 banker's head; and, as the case was inexcusable and 
 the public indignation thoroughly aroused, the unusual 
 figure of 750/. was offered for his capture. He was 
 reported to have large sums of money in his posses- 
 sion. One day, he had been heard of in Spain; the 
 next, there was sure intelligence that he was still lurk- 
 ing between Manchester and Liverpool, or along the 
 border of Wales; and the day after, a telegram would 
 announce his arrival in Cuba or Yucatan. But in all 
 this there was no word of an Italian, nor any sign of 
 mystery. 
 
 In the very last paper, however, there was one item 
 not so clear. The accountants who were charged to 
 verify the failure had, it seemed, come upon the traces 
 of a very large number of thousands, which figured for 
 some time in the transactions of the house of Huddle- 
 stone ; but which came from nowhere, and disappeared 
 in the same mysterious fashion. It was only once 
 referred to by name, and then under the initials "X. 
 X." ; but it had plainly been floated for the first time 
 into the business at a period of great depression some 
 six years ago. The name of a distinguished Royal per- 
 sonage had been mentioned by rumor in connection 
 with this sum. " The cowardly desperado " — such, I 
 remember, was the editorial expression — was supposed 
 to have escaped with a large part of this mysterious 
 fund still in his possession.
 
 THE PA VILION ON THE LINKS. 205 
 
 I was still brooding over the fact, and trying to tor- 
 ture it into some connection with Mr. Huddlestone's 
 danger, when a man entered the tavern and asked for 
 some bread and cheese with a decided foreign accent. 
 
 " Side Italiano?" said I. 
 
 " St signer," was his reply. 
 
 I said it was unusually far north to find one of his 
 compatriots ; at which he shrugged his shoulders, and 
 replied that a man would go anywhere to find work. 
 What work he could hope to find at Graden Wester, I 
 was totally unable to conceive ; and the incident struck 
 so unpleasantly upon my mind, that I asked the land- 
 lord, while he was counting me some change, whether 
 he had ever before seen an Italian in the village. He 
 said he had once seen some Norwegians, who had been 
 shipwrecked on the other side of Graden Ness and 
 rescued by the lifeboat from Cauld-haven. 
 
 "No!" said I; "but an Italian, like the man who 
 has just had bread and cheese." 
 
 "What?" cried he, " yonblack-avised fellow wi' the 
 teeth ? Was he an I-talian ? Weel, yon's the first that 
 ever I saw, an' I dare say he's like to be the last." 
 
 Even as he was speaking, I raised my eyes, and, 
 casting a glance into the street, beheld three men in 
 earnest conversation together, and not thirty yards 
 away. One of them was my recent companion in the 
 tavern parlor ; the other two, by their handsome, sal- 
 low features and soft hats, should evidently belong to 
 the same race. A crowd of village children stood 
 around them, gesticulating and talking gibberish in 
 imitation. The trio looked singularly foreign to the 
 bleak dirty street in which they were standing, and the 
 dark gray heaven that overspread them ; and I con- 
 fess my incredulity received at that moment a shock 
 from which it never recovered. I might reason with 
 myself as I pleased, but I could not argue down the 
 effect of what I had seen, and I began to share in the 
 Italian terror. 
 
 It was already drawing towards the close of the day
 
 206 ,v/ ir ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 before I had returned the newspapers at the manse, 
 
 ami got well forward on to the links on my way home. 
 I shall never forget that walk. It grew very cold and 
 boisterous ; the wind sang in the short grass about my 
 feet; thin rain showers came running on the gusts ; 
 and an immense mountain range of clouds began to 
 arise out of the bosom of the sea. It would be hard 
 to imagine a more dismal evening; and whether it was 
 from these external influences, or because my nerves 
 were already affected by what I had heard and seen, 
 my thoughts were as gloomy as the w< ather. 
 
 The upper windows of the pavilion commanded a 
 considerable spread of links in the direction of Graden 
 Wester. To avoid observation, it was necessary to 
 hug the beach until I had gained cover from the 
 higher sand-hills on the little headland, when I might 
 strike across, through the hollows, for the margin of 
 the wood. The sun was about setting ; the tide was 
 low, and all the quicksands uncovered ; and I was 
 moving along, lost in unpleasant thought, when I was 
 suddenly thunderstruck to perceive the prints of human 
 feet. They ran parallel to my own course, but low 
 down upon the beach instead of along the border of 
 the turf ; and, when I examined them, I saw at once, 
 by the size and coarseness of the impression, that it 
 was a stranger to me and to those in the pavilion who 
 had recently passed that way. Not only so ; but from 
 the recklessness of the course which he had followed, 
 steering near to the most formidable portions of the 
 sand, he was as evidently a stranger to the country and 
 to the ill-repute of Graden beach. 
 
 Step by step I followed the prints; until, a quarter 
 of a mile further, I beheld them die away into the 
 south-eastern boundary of Graden Floe. There, who- 
 ever he was, the miserable man had perished. One or 
 two gulls, who had, perhaps, seen him disappear, 
 wheeled over his sepulchre with their usual melancholy 
 piping. The sun had broken through the clouds by a 
 last effort, and colored the wide level of quicksands
 
 THE PA VILION ON THE LINKS. 207 
 
 with a dusky purple. 1 stood for some time gazing at 
 the spot, chilled and disheartened by my own reflec- 
 tions, and with a strong and commanding conscious- 
 ness of death. I remember wondering how long the 
 tragedy had taken, and whether his screams had been 
 audible at the pavilion. And then, making a strong 
 resolution, I was about to tear myself away, when a 
 gust fiercer than usual fell upon this quarter of the 
 beach, and I saw now, whirling high in air, now skim- 
 ming lightly across the surface of the sands, a soft, 
 black, felt hat, somewhat conical in shape, such as 1 
 had remarked already on the heads of the Italians. 
 
 I believe, but I am not sure, that I uttered a cry. 
 The wind was driving the hat shoreward, and I ran 
 round the border of the floe to be ready against its 
 arrival. The gust fell, dropping the hat for a while 
 upon the quicksand, and then, once more freshening, 
 landed it a few yards from where I stood. I seized it 
 with the interest you may imagine. It had seen some 
 service; indeed, it was rustier than either of those I 
 had seen that day upon the street. The lining was 
 red, stamped with the name of the maker, which 1 
 have forgotten, and that of the place of manufacture, 
 Venedig. This (it is not yet forgotten) was the name 
 given by the Austrians to the beautiful city of Venice, 
 then, and for long after, a part of their dominions. 
 
 The shock was complete. I saw imaginary Italians 
 upon every side; and for the first, and, I may say, for 
 the last time in my experience, became overpowered by 
 what is called panic terror. I knew nothing, that is, 
 to be afraid of, and yet I admit that I was heartily 
 afraid; and it was with a sensible reluctance that I 
 returned to my exposed and solitary camp in the Sea- 
 Wood. 
 
 There I ate some cold porridge which had been left 
 over from the night before, for I was disinclined to 
 make a fire; and, feeling strengthened and reassured, 
 dismissed all these fanciful terrors from my mind, and 
 lay down to sleep with composure.
 
 ?o8 NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS, 
 
 How long I may have slept it IS impossible for mc 
 
 less; but 1 was awakened at last by a sudden, 
 
 blinding Hash of light into my face. It woke me like 
 
 a blow. In an instant I was upon my knees. But the 
 
 had gone as suddenly as it came. The darkness 
 
 intense. And, as it was blowing great guns from 
 
 the sea and pouring with rain, the noises of the storm 
 
 acealed all others. 
 
 It was, I dare say, half a minute before I regained 
 my self-possession. But for two circumstances, I 
 should have thought I had been awakened by some 
 new and vivid form of nightmare. First, the flap of 
 my tent, which I had shut carefully when I retired, was 
 now unfastened; and, second, 1 could still perceive, 
 with a sharpness that excluded any theory of halluci- 
 nation, the smell of hot metal and of burning oil. The 
 conclusion was obvious. I had been awakened by 
 some one flashing a bull's-eye lantern in my face. It 
 had been but a flash, and away. He had seen my 
 face, and then gone. I asked myself the object of so 
 strange a proceeding, and the answer came pat. The 
 man, whoever he was, had thought to recognize me, 
 and he had not. There was yet another question un- 
 solved; and to this, I may say, I feared to give an 
 answer; if he had recoguized me, what would he have 
 done ? 
 
 My fears were immediately diverted from myself, for 
 I saw that I had been visited in a mistake; and I be- 
 came persuaded that some dreadful danger threatened 
 the pavilion. It required some nerve to issue forth 
 into the black and intricate thicket which surrounded 
 and overhung the den; but I groped my way to the 
 links, drenched with rain, beaten upon and deafened 
 by the gusts, and fearing at every step to lay my hand 
 upon some lurking adversary. The darkness was so 
 complete that I might have been surrounded by an 
 army and yet none the wiser, and the uproar of the 
 gale so loud that my hearing was as useless as my 
 sight.
 
 THU PA VI LI ON ON THE LINKS. 209 
 
 For the rest of the night, which seemed interminably 
 long, I patroled the vicinity of the pavilion, without 
 seeing a living creature or hearing any noise but the 
 concert of the wind, the sea, and the rain. A light in 
 the upper story filtered through a cranny in the shut- 
 ter, and kept me company till the approach of dawn .
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 TELLS OF AN INTERVIEW BETWEEN NORTHMOUR, 
 CLARA, AND MYSELF. 
 
 With the first peep of day, I retired from the open to 
 my old lair among the sandhills, there to await the 
 coming of my wife. The morning was gray, wild, and 
 melancholy ; the wind moderated before sunrise, and 
 then went about, and blew in puffs from the shore ; the 
 sea began to go down, but the rain still fell without 
 mercy. Over all the wilderness of links there was 
 not a creature to be seen. Yet I felt sure the 
 neighborhood was alive with skulking foes. The light 
 had been so suddenly and surprisingly flashed upon my 
 face as I lay sleeping, and the hat that had been blown 
 ashore by the wind from over Graden Floe, were two 
 speaking signals of the peril that environed Clara and 
 the party in the pavilion. 
 
 It was, perhaps, half-past seven, or nearer eight, 
 before I saw the door open, and that dear figure come 
 towards me in the rain. I was waiting for her on the 
 beach before she had crossed the sanddiills. 
 
 " I have had such trouble to come ! " she cried. 
 " They did not wish me to go walking in the rain." 
 
 " Clara," I said, " you are not frightened ! " 
 
 " No," said she, with a simplicity that filled my heart 
 with confidence. For my wife was the bravest as well 
 as the best of women ; in my experience, I have not 
 found the two go always together, but with her they 
 did; and she combined the extreme of fortitude with the 
 most endearing and beautiful virtues. 
 
 1 told her what had happened ; and, though her cheek 
 grew visibly paler, she retained perfect control over her 
 senses.
 
 THE PA VI LI ON ON THE LINKS. 211 
 
 "You see now that I am safe," said I in conclusion. 
 " They do not mean to harm me ; for, had they chosen, 
 I was a dead man last night." 
 
 She laid her hand upon my arm. 
 
 " And I had no presentiment ! "she cried. 
 
 Her accent thrilled me with delight. I put my arm 
 about her, and strained her to my side ; and, before 
 either of us was aware, her hands were on my shoulders 
 and my lips upon her mouth. Yet up to that moment 
 no word of love had passed between us. To this time 
 I remember the touch of her cheek, which was wet and 
 cold with the rain ; and many a time since, when she 
 has been washing her face, I have kissed it again for 
 the sake of that morning on the beach. Now that she 
 is taken from me, and I finish my pilgrimage alone, 
 I recall our old loving kindness and the deep' honesty 
 and affection which united us, and my "present loss 
 seems but a trifle in comparison. 
 
 We may have thus stood for some seconds — for time 
 passes quickly with lovers — before we were startled by 
 a peal of laughter close at hand. It was not natural 
 mirth, but seemed to be affected in order to conceal 
 an angrier feeling. We both turned, though I still kept 
 my left arm about Clara's waist ; nor did she seek to 
 withdraw herself ; and there, a few paces off upon the 
 beach, stood Northmour, his head lowered, his hands 
 behind his back, his nostrils white with passion. 
 
 " Ah ! Cassilis ! " he said, as I disclosed my face. 
 
 ' That same," said I ; for I was not at all put about. 
 
 " And so, Miss Huddlestone," he continued slowly 
 but savagely, " this is how you keep your faith to your 
 father and to me? This is the value you set upon 
 your father's life ? And you are so infatuated with this 
 young gentleman that you must brave ruin, and decencv, 
 and common human caution " 
 
 " Miss Huddlestone — " I was beginning to 
 interrupt him, when he, in his turn, cut in brutally — 
 
 " You hold your tongue," said he ; "I am speaking 
 to that girl."
 
 2 12 NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 "That girl, as you call her, is my wife," said I: and 
 my wife only leaned a little nearer, so that I knew she 
 had affirmed my words. 
 
 "Your what?" he cried. "You lie!" 
 
 " Northmour," I said. " we all know you have a bad 
 temper, and I am the last man to be irritated by words. 
 For all that, I propose that you speak lower, for I am 
 convinced that we are not alone." 
 
 He looked round him, and it was plain my remark 
 had in some degree sobered his passion. "What do 
 you mean ! " he asked. 
 
 I only said one word : " Italians." 
 
 He swore a round oath, and looked at us, from one 
 to the other. 
 
 " Mr. Cassilis knows all that I know," said my 
 wife. 
 
 "What I want to know." he broke out, "is where 
 the devil Mr. Cassilis comes from, and what the devil 
 Mr. Cassilis is doing here. You say you are married : 
 that I do not believe. If you were, Graden Floe would 
 soon divorce you ; four minutes and a half, Cassilis 
 I keep my private cemetery for my friends." 
 
 "It took somewhat longer," said I, " for that Italian. ' 
 
 He looked at me for a moment half daunted, and 
 then, almost civilly, asked me to tell my story. " You 
 have too much the advantage of me, Cassilis," he 
 added. I complied, of course ; and he listened, with 
 several ejaculations, while I told him how I had come 
 to Graden ; that it was I whom he had tried to murder 
 on the night of landing ; and what I had subsequently 
 seen and heard of the Italians. 
 
 "Well," said he, when I had done, " it is here at 
 last ; there is no mistake about that. And what, may 
 I ask, do you propose to do ? " 
 
 " I propose to stay with you and lend a hand," said I. 
 
 " You are a brave man," he returned, with a peculiar 
 intonation. 
 
 " I am not afraid," said I. 
 
 " And so," he continued, " I am to understand that
 
 THE PAVILION ON THE LINKS. 213 
 
 you two are married ? And you stand up to it before 
 my face, Miss Huddlestone ? " 
 
 " We are not yet married," said Clara ; " but we 
 shall be as soon as we can." 
 
 " Bravo ! " cried Northmour. " And the bargain ? 
 D — n it, you're not a fool, young woman ; I may call 
 a spade a spade with you. How about the bargain ? 
 You know as well as I do what your father's life 
 depends upon. I have only to put my hands under 
 my coat-tails and walk away, and his throat would be 
 cut before the evening." 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Northmour," returned Clara, with great 
 spirit ; " but that is what you will never do. You made 
 a bargain that was unworthy of a gentleman ; but you 
 are a gentleman for all that, and you will never desert a 
 man whom you have begun to help." 
 
 " Aha ! " said he. " You think I will give my yacht 
 for nothing ? You think I will risk my life and liberty 
 for love of the old gentleman ; and then, I suppose, 
 be best man at the wedding, to wind up ? Well," he 
 added, with an odd smile, " perhaps you are not 
 altogether wrong. But ask Cassilis here. He knows 
 me. Am I a man to trust ? Am I safe and scrupu- 
 lous ? Am I kind ? " 
 
 " I know you talk a great deal, and sometimes, I 
 think, very foolishly," replied Clara, " but I know you 
 are a gentleman, and I am not in the least afraid." 
 
 He looked at her with a peculiar approval and admi- 
 ration ; then, turning to me, " Do you think I would 
 give her up without a struggle, Frank ? " said he. " I 
 tell you plainly, you look out. The next time we come 
 to blows " 
 
 " Will make the third," I interrupted, smiling. 
 
 " Aye, true ; so it will," he said. " I had forgotten. 
 Well, the third time's lucky." 
 
 " The third time, you mean, you will have the crew 
 of the Red Earl to help," I said. 
 
 " Do you hear him? " he asked, turning to my wife. 
 
 '* I hear two men speaking like cowards," said she.
 
 .'14 N£ W ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 '' I should despise myself either to think or speak like 
 
 that And neither of you believe one word that you 
 
 are saying, which makes it the more wicked and silly." 
 
 " She's a trump ! " cried Northmour. "But she's 
 
 not yet Mrs. Cassilis. I say no more. The present is 
 not for me." 
 
 Then my wife surprised me. 
 
 " I leave you here," she said suddenly. " My father 
 has been too long alone. But remember this : you are 
 to be friends, for you are both good friends to me." 
 
 She has since told me her reason for this step. As 
 long as she remained, she declares that we two would 
 have continued to quarrel ; and I suppose that she 
 was right, for when she was gone we fell at once into 
 a sort of confidentiality. 
 
 Northmour stared after her as she went away over 
 the sand-hill. 
 
 " She is the only woman in the world ! " he exclaimed 
 with an oath. " Look at her action." 
 
 I, for my part, leaped at this opportunity for a little 
 further light. 
 
 " See here, Northmour," said I ; " we are all in a 
 tight place, are we not ? " 
 
 " I believe you, my boy," he answered, looking me 
 in the eyes, and with great emphasis. " We have all 
 hell upon us, that's the truth. You may believe me 
 or not, but I'm afraid of my life." 
 
 " Tell me one thing," said I. " What are they after, 
 these Italians? What do they want with Mr. Huddle- 
 stone ? " 
 
 "Don't you know?'' he cried. "The black old 
 scamp had carbonaro funds on a deposit — two hundred 
 and eighty thousand ; and of course he gambled it 
 away on stocks. There was to have been a revolution 
 in the Tridentino, or Parma ; but the revolution is off, 
 and the whole wasp's nest is after Huddlestone. We 
 shall all be lucky if we can save our skins." 
 
 "The carbonari I" J- exclaimed: "God help him 
 indeed ! "
 
 THE PA VI LI ON ON THE LINKS. 215 
 
 " Amen ! " said Northmour. " And now, look 
 here: I have said that we are in a fix ; and, frankly, I 
 shall be glad of your help. If I can't save Huddle- 
 stone, I want at least to save the girl. Come and stay 
 in the pavilion ; and, there's my hand on it, I shall 
 act as your friend until the old man is either clear or 
 dead. But," he added, " once that is settled, you 
 become my rival once again, and I warn you — mind 
 yourself." 
 
 " Done ! " said I ; and we shook hands. 
 
 " And now let us go directly to the fort," said 
 Northmour ; and he began to lead the way through 
 the rain.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 TELLS OF MY INTRODUCTION TO THE TALL MAN. 
 
 We were admitted to the pavilion by Clara, and I 
 was surprised by the completeness and security of the 
 defences. A barricade of great strength, and yet 
 easy to displace, supported the door against any vio- 
 lence from without ; and the shutters of the dining- 
 room, into which I was led directly, and which was 
 feebly illuminated by a lamp, were even more elabo- 
 rately fortified. The panels were strengthened by 
 bars and cross-bars ; and these, in their turn, were 
 kept in position by a system of braces and struts, some 
 abutting on the floor, some on the roof, and others, in 
 fine, against the opposite wall of the apartment. It 
 was at once a solid and well-designed piece of carpen- 
 try ; and I did not seek to conceal my admiration. 
 
 " I am the engineer," said Northmour. " You 
 remember the planks in the garden ? Behold 
 them ? " 
 
 " I did not know you had so many talents," said I. 
 
 " Are you armed ? " he continued, pointing to an 
 array of guns and pistols, all in admirable order, which 
 stood in line against the wall or were displayed upon 
 the sideboard. 
 
 " Thank you," I returned ; " I have gone armed 
 since our last encounter. But, to tell you the truth, 
 I have had nothing to eat since early yesterday 
 evening." 
 
 Northmour produced some cold meat, to which I 
 eagerly set myself, and a bottle of good Burgundy, by 
 which, wet as I was, I did not scruple to profit. I 
 have always been an extreme temperance man on prin- 
 ciple ; but it is useless to push principle to excess, 
 and en this occasion I believe that I finished three- 
 216
 
 THE PA VILION ON THE LINKS. 217 
 
 quarters of the bottle. As I ate, I still continued to 
 admire the preparations for defence. 
 
 " We could stand a siege," I said at length. 
 
 u Ye — es," drawled Northmour ; "a very little one, 
 per — haps. It is not so much the strength of the 
 pavilion I misdoubt ; it is the double danger that kills 
 me. If we get to shooting, wild as the country is some 
 one is sure to hear it, and then — why then it's the same 
 thing, only different, as they say, caged by law, or 
 killed by carbonari. There's the choice. It is a devil- 
 ish bad thing to have the law against you in this 
 world, and so I tell the old gentleman up stairs. He is 
 quite of my way of thinking." 
 
 " Speaking of that," said I, " what kind of person 
 is he." 
 
 " Oh, he ? " cried the other ; " he's a rancid fellow 
 as far as he goes. I should like to have his neck 
 wrung to-morrow by all the devils in Italy. I am not 
 in this affair for him. You take me ? I made a bar- 
 gain for Missy's hand and I mean to have it too." 
 
 "That, by the way," said I, "I understand. But 
 how will Mr. Huddlestone take my intrusion?" 
 
 " Leave that to Clara," returned Northmour. 
 
 I could have struck him in the face for this coarse 
 familiarity ; but I respected the truce, as, I am bound to 
 say, did Northmour, and so long as the danger con- 
 tinued not a cloud arose in our relation. I bear him 
 this testimony with the most unfeigned satisfaction ; 
 nor am I without pride when I look back upon my own 
 behavior. For surely no two men were ever left in a 
 position so invidious and irritating. 
 
 As soon as I had done eating, we proceeded to 
 inspect the lower floor. Window by window we tried 
 the different supports, now and then making an incon- 
 siderable change ; and the strokes of the hammer 
 sounded with startling loudness through the house. I 
 proposed, I remember, to make loopholes ; but he 
 told me they were already made in the windows of the 
 upper story. It was an anxious business this inspection,
 
 nS NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS, 
 
 and left me down-hearted. There were two doors and 
 five windows to protect, and, counting Clara, only 
 four of us to defend thein against an unknown number 
 of foes, [communicated my doubts to Nortlimour, 
 who assured me, with unmoved composure, that he 
 entirely shared them. 
 
 Before morning," said he, "we shall all be butch- 
 ered and buried in Graden Floe. For me, that is 
 written." 
 
 I could not help shuddering at the mention of the 
 quicksand, but reminded Northmour that our enemies 
 had spared me in the wood. 
 
 " Do not flatter yourself," said he. " Then you 
 were not in the same boat with the old gentleman; 
 now you are. It's the floe for all of us, mark my 
 words." 
 
 I trembled for Clara; and just then her dear voice 
 was heard calling us to come upstairs. Northmour 
 showed me the way, and, when he had reached the 
 landing, knocked at the door of what used to be called 
 My Uncle s Bedroom, as the founder of the pavilion 
 had designed it especially for himself. 
 
 "Come in, Northmour; come in, dear Mr. Cassilis," 
 said a voice from within. 
 
 Pushing open the door, Northmour admitted me 
 before him into the apartment. As I came in I could 
 see the daughter slipping out by the side door into the 
 study, which had been prepared as her bedroom. In 
 the bed, which was drawn back against the wall, instead 
 of standing, as I had last seen it, boldly across the 
 window, sat Bernard Huddlestone, the defaulting 
 banker. Little as I had seen of him by the shifting 
 light of the lantern on the links, I had no difficulty in 
 recognizing him for the same. He had a long and 
 sallow countenance, surrounded by a long red beard 
 and side-whiskers. His broken nose and high cheek- 
 bones gave him somewhat the air of a Kalmuck, and 
 his light eyes shone with the excitement of a high 
 fever. He wore a skull-cap of black silk; a huge
 
 THE PAVILION ON THE LINKS. 219 
 
 Bible lay open before him on the bed, with a pair of 
 gold spectacles in the place, and a pile of other books 
 lay on the stand by hi? side. The green curtains lent 
 a cadaverous shade to his cheek ; and, as he sat propped 
 on pillows, his great stature was painfully hunched, and 
 his head protruded till it overhung his knees. I believe 
 if he had not died otherwise, he must have fallen a 
 victim to consumption in the course of but a very few 
 weeks. 
 
 He held out to me a hand, long, thin, and disagree- 
 ably hairy. 
 
 ' Come in, come in, Mr. Cassilis," said he. *' Another 
 protector — ahem ! — another protector. Always wel- 
 come as a friend of my daughter's, Mr. Cassilis. How 
 they have^ rallied about me, my daughter's friends I 
 May God in heaven bless and reward them for it ! '* 
 
 1 gave him my hand, of course, because I could not 
 help it; but the sympathy I had been prepared to feel 
 for Clara's father was immediately soured by his 
 appearance, and the wheedling, unreal tones in which 
 he spoke. 
 
 " Cassilis is a good man," said Northmour; "worth 
 ten." 
 
 "So I hear," cried Mr. Huddlestone eagerly; "so 
 my girl tells me. Ah, Mr. Cassilis, my sin has found 
 me out, you see ! I am very low, very low; but I hope 
 equally penitent. We must all come to the throne of 
 grace at last, Mr. Cassilis. For my part, I come late 
 indeed; but with unfeigned humility, I trust." 
 
 " Fiddle-de-dee ! " said Northmour roughly. 
 
 " No, no, dear Northmour ! " cried the banker. " You 
 must not say that; you must not try to shake me. You 
 forget, my dear, good boy, you forget I may be called 
 this very night before my Maker." 
 
 His excitement was pitiful to behold; and I felt 
 myself grow indignant with Northmour, whose infidel 
 opinions I well knew, and heartily derided, as he con- 
 tinued to taunt the poor sinner out of his humor 0/ 
 repentance.
 
 220 NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 " Pooh, my dear Iluddlcstonc ! " said he. " You do 
 yourself injustice. You are a man of the world inside 
 and out, and were up to all kinds of mischief before I 
 was born. Your conscience is tanned like South 
 American leather — only you forgot to tan your liver, 
 and that, if you will believe me, is the seat of the 
 annoyance." 
 
 " Rogue, rogue ! bad boy ! " said Mr. Iluddlestone, 
 shaking his finger. " I am no precisian, if you come 
 to that ; I always hated a precisian ; but I never lost 
 hold of something better though it all. I have been 
 a bad boy, Mr. Cassilis ; I do not seek to deny that ; 
 but it was after my wife's death, and you know, with a 
 widower, it's a different thing : Sinful — I won't say no, 
 but there is a gradation, we shall hope. And talking 
 
 of that Hark ! " he broke out suddenly, his hand 
 
 raised, his fingers spread, his face racked with interest 
 and terror. Only the rain, bless God ! '' he added, 
 after a pause, and with indescribable relief. 
 
 For some seconds he lay back among the pillows 
 like a man near to fainting ; then he gathered himself 
 together, and, in somewhat tremulous tones, began once 
 more to thank me for the share I was prepared to take 
 in his defence. 
 
 " One question, sir," said I, when he had paused. 
 "Is it true that you have money with you ?" 
 
 He seemed annoyed by the question, but admitted 
 with reluctance that he had a little. 
 
 " Well," I continued, " it is their money they are 
 after, is it not ? Why not give it up to them ?" 
 
 "Ah ! " replied he, shaking his head, '* I have tried 
 that already, Mr. Cassilis; and alas ! that it should be 
 so, but it is blood they want." 
 
 " Huddlestone, that's a little less than fair," said 
 Northmour. "You should mention that what you 
 offered them was upwards of two hundred thousand 
 short. The deficit is worth a reference; it is for what 
 they call a cool sum, Frank. Then, you see, the fel- 
 lows reason in their clear Italian way; and it seems to
 
 THE PA VI LI ON ON THE LINKS. 221 
 
 them, as indeed it seems to me, that they may just at 
 well have both while they are about it — money and 
 blood together, by George, and no more trouble for the 
 extra pleasure." 
 
 *' Is it in the pavilion ? " I asked. 
 
 " It is ; and I wish it was in the bottom of the sea 
 instead," said Northmour; and then suddenly — "What 
 are you making faces at me for ?" he cried to Mr. Hud- 
 dlestone, on whom I had unconsciously turned my 
 back. " Do you think Cassilis would sell you ?" 
 
 Mr. Huddlestone protested that nothing had been 
 further from his mind. 
 
 "It is a good thing," retorted Northmour in his 
 ugliest manner. " You might end by wearying us. 
 What were you going to say ? " he added, turning to 
 me. 
 
 " I was going to propose an occupation for the after- 
 noon," said I. " Let us carry that money out, piece by 
 piece, and lay it down before the pavilion door. If the 
 carbonari come, why, it's theirs at any rate." 
 
 "No, no," cried Mr. Huddlestone; "it does not, it 
 cannot belong to them ! It should be distributed pro 
 rata among all my creditors." 
 
 " Come, now, Huddlestone." said Northmour, " none 
 of that." 
 
 " Well, but my daughter," moaned the wretched 
 man. 
 
 " Your daughter will do well enough. Here are two 
 suitors, Cassilis and I, neither of us beggars, between 
 whom she has to choose. And as for yourself, to 
 make an end of arguments, you have no right to a 
 farthing, and, unless I'm much mistaken, you are going 
 to die." 
 
 It was certainly very cruelly said ', but Mr. Huddle- 
 stone was a man who attracted little sympathy ; and, 
 although I saw him wince and shudder, I mentally 
 endorsed the rebuke • nay, I added a contribution of 
 my own. 
 
 " Northmour and I," I said, " are willing enough to
 
 222 NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 help you to save your life, but not to escape with stolen 
 property." 
 
 He struggled for a while with himself, as though he 
 
 were on the point of giving way to anger, but prudence 
 had the best of the controversy. 
 
 " My dear boys," he said, "do with me or my money 
 what you will. I leave all in your hands. Let me com- 
 pose myself." 
 
 And so we left him, gladly enough I am sure. The 
 last that I saw, he had once more taken up his great 
 Bible, and with tremulous hands was adjusting his 
 spectacles to read.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 TELLS HOW A WORD WAS CRIED THROUGH THE 
 PAVILION WINDOW. 
 
 The recollection of that afternoon will always be 
 graven on my mind. Northmour and I were persuaded 
 that an attack was imminent; and if it had been in our 
 power to alter in any way the order of events, that 
 power would have been used to precipitate rather than 
 delay the critical moment. The worst was to be antic- 
 ipated ; yet we could conceive no extremity so 
 miserable as the suspense we were now suffering. I 
 have never been an eager, though always a great, reader; 
 but I never knew books so insipid as those which I 
 took up and cast aside that afternoon in the pavilion. 
 Even talk became impossible, as the hours went on. 
 One or other was always listening for some sound, or 
 peering from an upstairs window over the links. And 
 yet not a sign indicated the presence of our foes. 
 
 We debated over and over again my proposal with 
 regard to the money; and had we been in complete pos- 
 session of our faculties, I am sure we should have con- 
 demned it as unwise ; but we were flustered with 
 alarm, grasped at a straw, and determined, although it 
 was as much as advertising Mr. Huddlestone's pres- 
 ence in the pavilion, to carry my proposal into effect. 
 
 The sum was part in specie, part in bank paper, and 
 part in circular notes, payable to the name of James 
 Gregory. We took it out, counted it, enclosed it once 
 more in a despatch-box belonging to Northmour, and 
 prepared a letter in Italian which he tied to the handle. 
 It was signed by both of us under oath, and declared 
 that this was all the money which had escaped the 
 failure of the house of Huddlestone. This was, per* 
 223
 
 I -4 NE W ARABIAN NIGH VS. 
 
 Imps, the maddest action ever perpetrated by two per- 
 sons professing to be sane. Had th ■ d spatch-box 
 
 fallen into other hands than those fcr which it was 
 intended, we stood criminally convicted on our own 
 
 written testimony ; but, as 1 have said, we were neither 
 of us in a condition to judge soberly, and had a thirst 
 for action that drove us to do something, right or 
 wrong, rather than endure the agony of waiting. 
 Moreover, as we were both COnvini ed that the hollows 
 of the links were alive with hidden spies upon our 
 movements, we hoped that our appearance with the 
 box might lead to a parley, and, perhaps, a com- 
 promise. 
 
 It was nearly three when we issued from the 
 pavilion. The rain had taken off ; the sun shone 
 quite cheerfully. I have never seen the gulls fly so 
 close about the house or approach so fearlessly to 
 human beings. On the very doorstep one flapped 
 heavily past our heads, and uttered its wild cry in my 
 very ear. 
 
 " There is an omen for you," said Northmour, 
 who like all freethinkers was much under the influ- 
 ence of superstition. " They think we are already 
 dead." 
 
 I made some light rejoinder, but it was with half 
 my heart ; for the circumstance had impressed me. 
 
 A yard or two before the gate, on a patch of smooth 
 turf, we set down the despatch box ; and Northmour 
 waved a white handkerchief over his head. Nothing 
 replied. We raised our voices, and cried aloud in 
 Italian that we were there as ambassadors to arrange 
 the quarrel ; but the stillness remained unbroken save 
 by the sea-gulls and the surf. I had a weight at my 
 heart when we desisted ; and I saw that even North- 
 mour was unusually pale. He looked over his shoulder 
 nervously, as though he feared that some one had crept 
 between him and the'pavilion door. 
 
 " By God," he said in a whisper, " this is too much 
 for me ! "
 
 THE PAVILION ON THE LINKS. 225 
 
 I replied in the same key : "Suppose there should 
 be none, after all ! " 
 
 "Look there," he returned, nodding with his head, 
 as though he had been afraid to point. 
 
 I glanced in the direction indicated ; and there, 
 from the northern corner of the Sea-Wood, beheld a 
 thin column of smoke rising steadily against the now 
 cloudless sky. 
 
 " Northmour," I said (we still continued to talk in 
 whispers), " it is not possible to endure this suspense. 
 I prefer death fifty times over. Stay you here to watch 
 the pavilion ; I will go forward and make sure, if I 
 have to walk right into their camp." 
 
 He looked once again all around him with puckered 
 eyes, and then nodded assentingly to my proposal. 
 
 My heart beat like a sledge-hammer as I set out 
 walking rapidly in the direction of the smoke ; and 
 though up to that moment I had felt chill and shiver- 
 ing, I was suddenly conscious of a glow of heat over 
 all my body. The ground in this direction was very 
 uneven ; a hundred men might have lain hidden in as 
 many square yards about my path. But I had not prac- 
 ticed the business in vain, chose such routes as cut at 
 the very root of concealment, and, by keeping along 
 the most convenient- ridges, commanded several hol- 
 lows at a time. It was not long before I was rewarded 
 for my caution. Coming suddenly on to a mound 
 somewhat more elevated than the surrounding hum- 
 mocks I saw, not thirty yards away, a man bent almost 
 double, and running as fast as his attitude permitted, 
 along the bottom of a gully. I had dislodged one of 
 the spies from his ambush. As soon as I sighted him, 
 I called loudly both in English and Italian ; and he, 
 seeing concealment was no longer possible, straight- 
 ened himself out, leaped from the gully, and made 
 off as straight as an arrow for the borders of the 
 wood. 
 
 It was none of my business to pursue; I had learned 
 what I wanted — that we were beleaguered and watched
 
 226 W ARAB1 l\ NIGHTS. 
 
 in the pavilion; and I returned at once, and walking 
 as nearly as possible in my old footsteps, to where 
 Northmour awaited me beside the despatch-box. He 
 w.is even paler than when I had left him and his voice 
 shook a little. 
 
 " Could you see what he was like?" he asked. 
 
 " He kept his back turned," 1 replied. 
 
 "Let us go into the house, Frank. I don't think 
 I'm a coward, but I can stand no more of this," he 
 whispered. 
 
 All was still and sunshiny about the pavilion as we 
 turned to re-enter it; even the gulls had flown in a 
 wider circuit, and were seen flickering along the beach 
 and sand-hills; and this loneliness terrified me more 
 than a regiment under arms. It was not until the door 
 was barricaded that I could draw a full inspiration and 
 relieve the weight that lay upon my bosom. North- 
 mour and I exchanged a steady glance; and I suppose 
 each made his own reflections on the white and 
 startled aspect of the other. 
 
 '* You were right," I said. " All is over. Shake 
 hands, old man, for the last time." 
 
 " Yes,'' replied he, " I will shake hands; for. as sur< 
 as I am here, I bear no malice. But, remember, if, by 
 some impossible accident, we should give the slip tc 
 these blackguards, I'll take the upper hand of you by 
 fair or foul." 
 
 " Oh," said I, " you weary me." 
 
 He seemed hurt, and walked away in silence to the 
 foot of the stairs, where he paused. 
 
 " You do not understand me," said he, *' I am not a 
 swindler, and I guard myself; that is all. It may 
 weary you or not, Mr. Cassilis, I do not care a rush: I 
 speak for my own satisfaction, and not for your amuse- 
 ment. You had better go upstairs and court the girl; 
 for my part, I stay here." 
 
 '' And I stay with you," I returned. "Do you think 
 I would steal a march, even with your permission?" 
 
 " Frank," he said, smiling, " it's a pity you are an
 
 THE PAVILION ON THE LINKS. 227 
 
 ass, for you have the makings of a man. I think I 
 must be fey to-day ; you cannot irritate me, even when 
 you try. Do you know," he continued softly, " I think 
 we are the two most miserable men in England, you and 
 I ? we have got on to thirty without wife or child, or so 
 much as a shop to look after — poor, pitiful, lost devils, 
 both ! And now we clash about a girl ! As if there 
 were not several millions in the United Kingdom ! 
 Ah, Frank, Frank, the one who loses his throw, be it 
 you or me, he has my pity ! It were better for him — 
 how does the Bible say ? — that a millstone were hanged 
 about his neck and he were cast into the depth of the 
 sea. Let us take a drink," he concluded suddenly, 
 but without any levity of tone. 
 
 I was touched by his words, and consented. He sat 
 down on the table in the dining-room, and held up the 
 glass of sherry to his eye. 
 
 " If you beat me, Frank," he said, " I shall take to 
 drink. What will you do, if it goes the other way ? " 
 
 " God knows," I returned. 
 
 " Well," said he, " here is a toast in the meantime : 
 ' Italia irredenta ! ' " 
 
 The remainder of the day was passed in the same 
 dreadful tedium and suspense. I laid the table for 
 dinner, while Northmour and Clara prepared the meal 
 together in the kitchen. I could hear their talk as I 
 went to and fro, and was surprised to find it ran all 
 the time upon myself. Northmour again bracketed us 
 together, and rallied Clara on a choice of husbands ; 
 but he continued to speak of me with some feeling, and 
 uttered nothing to my prejudice unless he included 
 himself in the condemnation. This awakened a sense 
 of gratitude in my heart, which combined with the 
 immediateness of our peril to fill my eyes with tears. 
 After all, I thought — and perhaps the thought was 
 laughably vain — we were here three very noble human 
 beings to perish in defense of a thieving banker. 
 
 Before we sat down to table, I looked forth from an 
 upstairs window. The day was beginning to decline ;
 
 : 1 8 X/-: l V A R. \BIAN NIGH TS. 
 
 the links were utterly deserted; the despatch-box still 
 
 lay untouched where we had left it hours before. 
 
 Mr. Huddlestone, in a long yellow dressing-gown, 
 took one end of the table, Clara the other; while North- 
 niour and 1 faced each other from the sides. The 
 lamp was brightly trimmed; the wine was good; the 
 viands, although mostly cold, excellent of their sort. 
 We seemed to have agreed tacitly; all reference to the 
 impending catastrophe was carefully avoided; and, 
 considering our tragic circumstances, we made a mer- 
 rier party than could have been expected. From time 
 to time, it is true, Northmour or I would rise from the 
 table and make a round of the defences; and, on each 
 of these occasions Mr. Huddlestone was recalled to a 
 sense of his tragic predicament, glanced up with 
 ghastly eyes, and bore for an instant on his counten- 
 ance the stamp of terror. But he hastened to empty 
 his glass, wiped his forehead with his handkerchief, 
 and joined again in the conversation. 
 
 I was astonished at the wit and information he dis- 
 played. Mr. Huddlestone's was certainly no ordinary 
 character; he had read and observed for himself; his 
 gifts were sound; and, though I could never have 
 learned to love the man, I began to understand 
 his success in business, and the great respect 
 in which he had been held before his failure. He had, 
 above all, the talent of society; and though I never 
 heard him speak but on this one and most unfavorable 
 occasion, I set him down among the most brilliant 
 conversationalists I ever met. 
 
 He was relating with great gusto, and seemingly no 
 feeling of shame, the manoeuvres of a scoundrelly 
 commission merchant whom he had known and stud- 
 ied in his youth, and we were all listening with an odd 
 mixture of mirth and embarrassment, when our little 
 party was brought abruptly to an end in the most 
 startling manner. 
 
 A noise like that of a wet finger on the window-pane 
 interrupted Mr. Huddlestone's tale ; and in an instant
 
 THE PA VI LI ON ON THE LINKS. 229 
 
 we were all four as white as paper, and sat tongue-tied 
 and motionless round the table. 
 
 " A snail," I said at last ; for I had heard that these 
 animals make a noise somewhat similar in character. 
 
 " Snail be d — d !" said Northmour. " Hush !" 
 
 The same sound was repeated twice at regular inter- 
 vals ; and then a formidable voice shouted through the 
 shutters the Italian word " Traditore /" 
 
 Mr. Huddlestone threw his head in the air ; his 
 eyelids quivered ; next moment he fell insensible below 
 the table. Northmour and I had each run to the arm- 
 ory and seized a gun. Clara was on her feet with her 
 hand at her throat. 
 
 So we stood waiting, for we thought the hour of 
 attack was certainly come ; but second passed after 
 second, and all but the surf remained silent in the 
 neighborhood of the pavilion. 
 
 " Quick," said Northmour ; " upstairs with him 
 before they come."
 
 CHAPTER VI IT. 
 
 TELLS THE I. AST OF THE TALL MAN. 
 
 Somehow or other, by hook and crook, and between 
 the three of us, we got Bernard Huddlestone bundled 
 upstairs and laid upon the bed in My Uncles Room. 
 During the whole process, which was rough enough, he 
 gave no sign of consciousness, and he remained, as we 
 had thrown him, without changing the position of a 
 finger. His daughter opened his shirt and began to 
 wet his head and bosom ; while Northmour and I ran 
 to the window. The weather continued clear ; the 
 moon, which was now about full, had risen and shed a 
 very clear light upon the links ; yet, strain our eyes as 
 we might, we could distinguish nothing moving. A few 
 dark spots, more or less, on the uneven expanse were 
 not to be identified ; they might be crouching men, 
 they might be shadows ; it was impossible to be 
 sure. 
 
 " Thank God," said Northmour, " Aggie is not 
 coming to-night." 
 
 Aggie was the name of the old nurse ; he had not 
 thought of her till now ; but that he should think of 
 her at all, was a trait that surprised me in the man. 
 
 We were again reduced to waiting. Northmour went 
 to the fireplace and spread his hands before the red 
 embers, as if he were cold. I followed him mechan- 
 ically with my eyes, and in so doing turned my back 
 upon the window. At that moment a very faint report 
 was audible from without, and a ball shivered a pane 
 of glass, and buried itself in the shutter two inches 
 from my head. I heard Clara scream ; and though I 
 whipped instantly out of range and into a corner, she 
 was there, so to speak, before me, beseeching to know 
 if I were hurt. I felt that I could stand to be shot at 
 every day and all day long, with such marks of solici- 
 230
 
 THE PAVILION ON THE LINKS. 231 
 
 ««ide for a reward ; and I continued to reassure her, 
 with the tenderest caresses and in complete forgetful- 
 ness of our situation, till the voice of Northmoui 
 recalled me to myself. 
 
 " An air-gun," he said. " They wish to make no 
 noise." 
 
 I put Clara aside, and looked at him. He was stand- 
 ing with his back to the fire and his hands clasped 
 behind him ; and I knew by the black look on his face, 
 that passion was boiling within. I had seen just such 
 a look before he attacked me, that March night, in the 
 adjoining chamber ; and, though I could make every 
 allowance for his anger, I confess I trembled for the 
 consequences. He gazed straight before him ; but he 
 could see us with the tail of his eye, and his temper 
 kept rising like a gale of wind. With regular battle 
 awaiting us outside, this prospect of an internecine strife 
 within the walls began to daunt me. 
 
 Suddenly, as I was thus closely watching his expres- 
 sion and prepared against the worst, I saw a change, a 
 flash, a look of relief, upon his face. He took up the 
 lamp which stood beside him on the table, and turned 
 to us with an air of some excitement. 
 
 " There is one point that we must know," said he. 
 " Are they going to butcher the lot of us, or only 
 Huddlestone ? Did they take you for him, or fire at you 
 for your own beaux yeaux ?" 
 
 " They took me for him, for certain," I replied. " I 
 am near as tall, and my head is fair." 
 
 " I am going to make sure," returned Northmour ; 
 and he stepped up to the window, holding the lamp 
 above his head, and stood there, quietly affronting 
 death, for half a minute. 
 
 Clara sought to rush forward and pull him from the 
 place of danger ; but I had the pardonable selfishness 
 to hold her back by force. 
 
 "Yes," said Northmour, turning coolly from the 
 window ; " it's only Huddlestone they want." 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Northmour ! " cried Clara ; but found no
 
 22,2 Nl W ARABIAN NIGHTS 
 
 more to add ; the temerity she liad just witnessed 
 seeming beyond the reach of words. 
 
 He, on his part, looked at me, cocking his head, 
 with a tire of triumph in his eves ; and I understood 
 at once that he had thus hazarded his life, merely to 
 attract Clara's notice, and depose me from my position 
 as the hero of the hour. He snapped his fingers. 
 
 " The tire is only beginning," he said. " When they 
 warm up to their work, they won't be so particular." 
 
 A voice was now heard hailing us from the entrance. 
 From the window we could see the figure of a man in 
 the moonlight ; he stood motionless, his face uplifted 
 to ours, and a rag of something white on his extended 
 arm ; and as we looked right down upon him, though 
 he was a good many yards distant on the links, we 
 could see the moonlight glitter on his eyes. 
 
 He opened his lips again, and spoke for some min- 
 utes on end, in a key so loud that he might have been 
 heard in every corner of the pavilion, and as far away 
 as the borders of the wood. It was the same voice 
 that had already shouted ' Traditore!" through the 
 shutters of the dining-room ; this time it made a com- 
 plete and clear statement. If the traitor " Oddlestone " 
 were given up, all others should be spared ; if not, no 
 one should escape to tell the tale. 
 
 " Well, Huddlestone, what do you say to that ? " 
 asked Northmour, turning to the bed. 
 
 Up to that moment the banker had given no sign of 
 life, and I, at least, had supposed him to be still lying 
 in a faint ; but he replied at once, and in such tones 
 as I have never heard elsewhere, save from a delirious 
 patient, adjured and besought us not to desert him. 
 It was the most hideous and abject performance that 
 my imagination can conceive. 
 
 " Enough," cried Northmour ; and then he threw 
 open the window, leaned out into the night, and in a 
 tone of exultation, and with a total forgetfulness of 
 what was due to the presence of a lady, poured out 
 upon the ambassador a string of the most abominable
 
 THE PA VILION ON THE LINKS. 233 
 
 raillery both in English and Italian, and bade him 
 be gone where he had come from. I believe that 
 nothing so delighted Northmour at that moment as 
 the thought that we must all infallibly perish before 
 the night was out. 
 
 Meantime the Italian put his flag of truce into his 
 pocket, and disappeared, at a leisurely pace, among 
 the sand-hills. 
 
 "They make honorable war," said Northmour. 
 " They are all gentlemen and soldiers. For the credit 
 of the thing, I wish we could change sides — you and I, 
 Frank, and you too, Missy my darling — and leave that 
 being on the bed to some one else. Tut ! Don't look 
 shocked ! We are all going post to what they call 
 eternity, and may as well be above-board while there's 
 time. As far as I'm concerned, if I could first strangle 
 Huddlestone and then get Clara in my arms, I could 
 die with some pride and satisfaction. And as it is, by 
 God, I'll have a kiss ! " 
 
 Before I could do anything to interfere, he had 
 rudely embraced and repeatedly kissed the resisting 
 girl. Next moment I had pulled him away with fury, 
 and flung him heavily against the wall. He laughed 
 loud and long, and I feared his wits had given way 
 under the strain ; for even in the best of days he had 
 been a sparing and a quiet laugher. 
 
 " Now, Frank," said he, when his mirth was some- 
 what appeased, " it's your turn. Here's my hand. 
 Good-bye ; farewell ! " Then, seeing me stand rigid 
 and indignant, and holding Clara to my side — " Man ! " 
 he broke out, " are you angry ? Did you think we 
 were going to die with all the airs and graces of 
 society ? I took a kiss ; I'm glad I had it ; and now 
 you can take another if you like, and square accounts." 
 
 I turned from him with a feeling of contempt which 
 I did not seek to dissemble. 
 
 " As you please," said he. " You've been a prig in 
 life ; a prig you'll die." 
 
 And with that he sat down in a chair, a rifle over
 
 234 Atf "' ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 the knee, and amused himself with snapping the lock ; 
 but 1 could see that his ebullition of light spirits (the 
 only one I ever knew him to display) had already 
 come to an end, and was succeeded by a sullen, scowl- 
 ing humor. 
 
 All this time our assailants might have been entering 
 the house, and we been none the wiser ; we had in 
 truth almost forgotten the danger that so imminently 
 overhung our days. But just then Mr. Huddlestone 
 uttered a cry, and leaped from the bed. 
 
 I asked him what was wrong. 
 
 "Fire !" he cried. "They have set the house on 
 fire ! " 
 
 Northmour was on his feet in an instant, and he and 
 I ran through the door of communication with the 
 study. The room was illuminated by a red and angry 
 light. Almost at the moment of our entrance, a tower 
 of flame arose in front of the window, and, with a 
 tingling report, a pane fell inwards on the carpet. 
 They had set fire to the lean-to out-house, where 
 Northmour used to nurse his negatives. 
 
 " Hot work," said Northmour. " Let us try in your 
 old room." 
 
 We ran thither in a breath, threw up the casement, 
 and looked forth. Along the whole back wall of the 
 pavilion piles of fuel had been arranged and kindled; 
 and it is probable they had been drenched with min- 
 eral oil, for, in spite of the morning's rain, they all 
 burned bravely. The fire had taken a firm hold 
 already on the outhouse, which blazed higher and 
 higher every moment; the back door was in the centre 
 of a red-hot bonfire; the eaves we could see, as we 
 looked upward, were already smouldering, for the roof 
 overhung, and was supported by considerable beams of 
 wood. At the same time, hot, pungent, and choking 
 volumes of smoke began to fill the house. There was 
 not a human being to be seen to right or left. 
 
 " Ah, well ! " said Northmour, " here's the end, 
 thank God."
 
 THE PA VI LI ON ON THE LINKS. 235 
 
 And we returned to My Uncle's Room. Mr. Hud- 
 dlestone was putting on his boots, still violently 
 trembling, but with an air of determination such as I 
 had not hitherto observed. Clara stood close by him, 
 with her cloak in both hands ready to throw about her 
 shoulders, and a strange look in her eyes, as if she were 
 half hopeful, half doubtful of her father. 
 
 "Well, boys and girls," said Northmour, "how 
 about a sally ? The oven is heating; it is not good to 
 stay here and be baked; and, for my part, I want to 
 come to my hands with them, and be done." 
 
 "There is nothing else left," I replied. 
 
 And both Clara and Mr. Huddlestone, though with 
 a very different intonation, added, " Nothing." 
 
 As we went downstairs the heat was excessive, and 
 the roaring of the fire filled our ears; and we had 
 scarce reached the passage before the stairs window 
 fell in, a branch of flame shot brandishing through the 
 aperture, and the interior of the pavili >n became lit 
 up with that dreadful and fluctuating glare. At the 
 same moment we heard the fall of something heavy 
 and inelastic in the upper story. The whole pavilion, 
 it was plain, had gone alight like a box of matches, 
 and now not only flamed sky-high to land and sea, but 
 threatened with every moment to crumble and fall in 
 about our ears. 
 
 Northmour and I cocked our revolvers. Mr. Hud- 
 dlestone, who had already refused a firearm, put us 
 behind him with a manner of command. 
 
 " Let Clara open the door," said he. " So, if they 
 fire a volley, she will be protected. And in the mean- 
 time stand behind me. I am the scapegoat; my sins 
 have found me out." 
 
 I heard him, as I stood breathless by his shoulder, 
 with my pistol ready, pattering off prayers in a tremu- 
 lous, rapid whisper; and I confess, horrid as the 
 thought may seem, 1 despised him for ihinkingof sup- 
 plications in a moment so critical and thrilling. In 
 the meantime, Clara, who was dead white but still
 
 236 NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 d her faculties, had displaced the barricade 
 from the front dour. Another moment] and she had 
 pulled it open. Firelight and moonlight illuminated 
 the links with confused and changeful lustre, and far 
 away against the sky we could see a long trail of glow- 
 ing smoke. 
 
 Mr. Iluddlestone, fdlcd for the moment with a 
 strength greater than his own, struck Northmour and 
 myself a backdiander in the chest; and while we were 
 thus for the moment incapacitated from action, lifting 
 his arms above his head like one about to dive, he ran 
 straight forward out of the pavilion. 
 
 " Here am I ! " he cried — " Huddlestone ! Kill me, 
 and spare the others ! " 
 
 His sudden appearance daunted, I suppose, our 
 hidden enemies; for Northmour and I had time to 
 recover, to seize Clara between us, one by each arm, 
 and to rush forth to his assistance, ere anything 
 further had taken place. But scarce had we passed 
 the threshold when there came near a dozen reports 
 and flashes from every direction among the hollows of 
 the links. Mr. Huddlestone staggered, uttered a 
 weird and freezing cry, threw up his arms over his 
 head, and fell backward on the turf. 
 
 " Traditore ! Traditore ! " cried the invisible 
 avengers. 
 
 And just then, a part of the roof of the pavilion fell 
 in, so rapid was the progress of the fire. A loud, 
 vague, and horrible noise accompanied the collapse, 
 and a vast volume of flame went soaring up to heaven. 
 It must have been visible at that moment from twenty 
 miles out at sea, from the shore at Graden Wester, and 
 far inland from the peak of Graystiel, the most eastern 
 summit of the Caulder Hills. Bernard Huddlestone, 
 although God knows what were his obsequies, had a 
 fine pyre at the moment of his death.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 TELLS HOW NORTHMOUR CARRIED OUT HIS THREAT. 
 
 I should have the greatest difficulty to tell you what 
 followed next after this tragic circumstance. It is all 
 to me, as I look back upon it, mixed, strenuous, and 
 ineffectual, like the struggles of a sleeper in a night- 
 mare. Clara, I remember, uttered a broken sigh and 
 would have fallen forward to earth, had not North- 
 mour and I supported her insensible body. I do 
 not think we were attacked ; I do not remember 
 even to have seen an assailant ; and I believe we 
 deserted Mr. Huddlestone without a glance. I only 
 remember running like a man in a panic, now car- 
 rying Clara altogether in my own arms, now shar- 
 ing her weight with Northmour, now scuffling con- 
 fusedly for the possession of that dear burden. 
 Why we should have made for my camp in the 
 Hemlock Den, or how we reached it, are points lost 
 for ever to my recollection. The first moment at 
 which I became definitely sure, Clara had been suffered 
 to fall against the outside of my little tent, Northmour 
 and I were tumbling together on the ground, and he, 
 with contained ferocity, was striking for my head with 
 the butt of his revolver. He had already twice 
 wounded me on the scalp; and it is to the consequent 
 loss of blood that I am tempted to attribute the sud- 
 den clearness of my mind. 
 
 I caught him by the wrist. 
 
 "Northmour," I remember saying, "you can kill 
 me afterwards. Let us first attend to Clara." 
 
 He was at that moment uppermost. Scarcely had 
 the words passed my lips, when he had leaped to his 
 feet and ran towards the tent; and the next moment, 
 237
 
 23S NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 he was straining ("Inn to his heart and covering hei 
 
 Unconscious hands and \a<v with his caresses. 
 
 " Shame ! " 1 i in d. " Shame to yon, Northmour ! " 
 
 And, giddy though I still was, I struck him 
 repeatedly n[>on the head and shoulders. 
 
 lie relinquished his grasp, and faced me in the 
 broken moonlight. 
 
 1 had \ u under, nnd let you go," said he; "and 
 now you strike me ! Coward ! " 
 
 " You are the coward," I retorted. " Did she wish 
 your kisses while she was still sensible of what she 
 wanted ? Not she ! And now she may be dying; and 
 you waste this precious time, and abuse her helpness- 
 ness. Stand aside, and let me help her." 
 
 He confronted me for a moment, white and mena- 
 cing; then suddenly he stepped aside. 
 
 " Help her then," said he. 
 
 I threw myself on my knees beside her, and loos- 
 ened, as well as I was able, her dress and corset; but 
 while I was thus engaged, a grasp descended on my 
 shoulder. 
 
 " Keep your hands off her," said Northmour 
 fiercely. " Do you think I have no blood in my 
 veins ? " 
 
 " Northmour," I cried, "if you will neither help her 
 yourself, nor let me do so, do you know that I shall 
 have to kill you ? " 
 
 " That is better ! " he cried. " Let her die also, 
 where's the harm ? Step aside from that girl ! and 
 stand up to fight." 
 
 " You will observe," said I, half-rising, " that I have 
 not kissed her yet." 
 
 " I dare you to," he cried. 
 
 I do not know what possessed me ; it was one of 
 the things I am most ashamed of in my life, though, as 
 my wife used to say, I knew that my kisses would be 
 always welcome were she dead or living; down I fell 
 again upon my knees, parted the hair from her fore- 
 head, and. with the dearest respect, laid my lips for a
 
 THE PA VI LION ON THE LINKS. 239 
 
 moment on that cold brow. It was such a caress as a 
 father might have given; it was such a one as was not 
 unbecoming from a man soon to die to a woman 
 already dead. 
 
 "And now," said I, " I am at your service, Mr. 
 Northmour." 
 
 But I saw, to my surprise, that he had turned his 
 back upon me. 
 
 ' Do you hear ? " I asked. 
 
 " Yes," said he, " I do. If you wish to fight, I am 
 ready. If not, go on and save Clara. All is one to 
 me." 
 
 I did not wait to be twice bidden; but, stooping 
 again over Clara, continued my efforts to revive her. 
 She still lay white and lifeless; I began to fear that her 
 sweet spirit had indeed fled beyond recall, and horror 
 and a sense of utter desolation seized upon my heart. 
 I called her by name with the most endearing inflec- 
 tions; I chafed and beat her hands; now I laid her 
 head low, now supported it against my knee; but all 
 seemed to be in vain, and the lids still lay heavy on 
 her eyes. 
 
 " Northmour," I said, "there is my hat. For God's 
 sake bring some water from the spring." 
 
 Almost in a moment he was by my side with the 
 water. 
 
 " I have brought it in my own," he said. "You do 
 not grudge me the privilege ? " 
 
 "Northmour," I was beginning to say, as I laved 
 her head and breast; but he interrupted me savagely. 
 
 " Oh, you hush up ! " he said. " The best thing you 
 can do is to say nothing." 
 
 I had certainly no desire to talk, my mind being- 
 swallowed up in concern for my dear love and her 
 condition; so I continued in silence to do my best 
 towards her recovery, and, when the hat was empty, 
 returned it to him, with one word — " More." He 
 had, perhaps, gone several times upon this errand, 
 when Clara reopened her eyes.
 
 1 40 A'/-: W A RA B IAN NIGH TS. 
 
 " Now," said he, "since she is better, you ran spare 
 me, ran you not ? 1 wish you a good night, Mr. 
 ( 'a-silis." 
 
 And with that he was gone among the thicket. I 
 made a fire, for I had now no fear of the Italians, who 
 had even spared all the Little possessions left in my 
 encampment; and, broken as she was by the excite- 
 ment and the hideous catastrophe of the evening, I 
 managed, in one way or another — by persuasion, 
 encouragement, warmth, and such simple remedies as 
 I could lay my hand on — to bring her back to some 
 composure of mind and strength of body. 
 
 Day had already come, when a sharp "Hist!" 
 sounded from the thicket. I started from the ground; 
 but the voice of Northmour was heard adding, in the 
 most tranquil tones: "Come here, Cassilis, and alone; 
 I want to show you something." 
 
 I consulted Clara with my eyes, and, receiving her 
 tacit permission, left her alone, and clambered out of 
 the den. At some distance off I saw Northmour lean- 
 ing against an elder; and, as soon as he perceived me, 
 he began walking seaward. I had almost overtaken 
 him as he reached the outskirts of the wood. 
 
 " Look," said he, pausing. 
 
 A couple of steps more brought me out of the foli- 
 age. The light of the morning lay cold and clear over 
 that well-known scene. The pavilion was but a black- 
 ened wreck; the roof had fallen in, one of the gables 
 had fallen out; and, far and near, the face of the links 
 was cicatrized with little patches of burnt furze. Thick 
 smoke still went straight upwards in the windless air 
 of the morning, and a great pile of ardent cinders 
 fdled the bare walls of the house, like coals in an open 
 grate. Close by the i^let a schooner yacht lay to, and 
 a well-manned boat was pulling vigorously for the shore. 
 
 " The Red Earl.' " I cried. "The Red Earl twelve 
 hours too late ! " 
 
 " Feel in your pocket, Frank. Are you armed?" 
 asked Northmour.
 
 THE PAVILION ON THE LINKS. 241 
 
 I obeyed him, and I think I must have become 
 deadly pale. My revolver had been taken from me. 
 
 "You see I have you in my power," he continued. 
 " I disarmed you last night while you were nursing 
 Clara; but this morning — here — take your pistol. No 
 thanks ! " he cried, holding up his hand. " I do not 
 like them; that is the only way you can annoy me 
 now." 
 
 He began to walk forward across the links to meet 
 the boat, and I followed a step or two behind. In 
 front of the pavilion I paused to see where Mr. Hud- 
 dlestone had fallen; but there was no sign of him, nor 
 so much as a trace of blood. 
 
 "Graden Floe," said Northmour. 
 
 He continued to advance till we had come to the 
 head of the beach. 
 
 " No farther, please," said he. "Would you like to 
 take her to Graden House ? " 
 
 " Thank you," replied I; "I shall try to get her to 
 the minister's at Graden Wester." 
 
 The prow of the boat here grated on the beach, and 
 a sailor jumped ashore with a line in his hand. 
 
 " Wait a minute, lads ! " cried Northmour; and then 
 lower and to my private ear: " You had better say 
 nothing of all this to her," he added. 
 
 " On the contrary ! " I broke out, " she shall know 
 everything that I can tell. " 
 
 " You do not understand," he returned, with an air 
 of great dignity. " It will be nothing to her; she 
 expects it of me. Good-bye ! " he added, with a nod. 
 
 I offered him my hand. 
 
 " Excuse me," said he. " It's small, I know; but I 
 can't push things quite so far as that. I don't wish 
 any sentimental business, to sit by your hearth a white- 
 haired wanderer, and all that. Quite the contrary: I 
 hope to God I shall never again clap eyes on either 
 one of you." 
 
 " Well, God bless you, Northmour ! " I said heartily. 
 
 " Oh, yes," he returned.
 
 :\2 NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 He walked down the beach; and the man who was 
 
 ashore gave him an arm 01) hoard, and then shoved 
 oif and leaped into the hows himself. Northmour 
 took the tiller; the hoat rose to the waves, and the 
 oars between the thole-pins sounded crisp and meas- 
 ured in the air. 
 
 They were not yet half way to the Red Earl, and I 
 was still watching their progress, when the sun rose 
 out of the sea. 
 
 One word more, and my story is done. Years after, 
 Northmour was killed fighting under the colors oi 
 Garibaldi for the liberation of Tyrol.
 
 A LODGING FOR THE NIGHT: 
 
 A STORY OF FRANCIS VILLON.
 
 A LODGING FOR THE NIGHT. 
 
 IT was late in November, 1456. The snow fell over 
 Paris with rigorous, relentless persistence ; some- 
 times the wind made a sally and scattered it in flying 
 vortices ; sometimes there was a lull, and flake after 
 flake descended out of the black night air, silent, cir- 
 cuitous, interminable. To poor people, looking up 
 under moist eyebrows, it seemed a wonder where it all 
 came from. Master Francis Villon had propounded 
 an alternative that afternoon, at a tavern window : was 
 it only Pagan Jupiter plucking geese upon Olympus ? 
 or were the holy angels moulting ? He was only a poor 
 Master of Arts, he went on ; and as the question some- 
 what touched upon divinity, he durst not venture to 
 conclude. A silly old priest from Montargis, who was 
 among the company, treated the young rascal to a 
 bottle of wine in honor of the jest and grimaces with 
 which it was accompanied, and swore on his own white 
 beard that he had been just such another irreverent 
 dog when he was Villon's age. 
 
 The air was raw and pointed, but not far below 
 freezing ; and the flakes were large, damp, and adhe- 
 sive. The whole city was sheeted up. An army 
 might have marched from end to end and not a foot- 
 fall given the alarm. If there were any belated birds 
 in heaven, they saw the island like a large white patch, 
 and the bridges like slim white spars, on the black 
 ground of the river. High up overhead the snow set- 
 tled among the tracery of the cathedral towers. Many 
 a niche was drifted full ; many a statue wore a long 
 white bonnet on its grotesque or sainted head. The 
 gargoyles had been transformed into great false noses, 
 drooping towards the point. The crockets were like 
 245
 
 2^6 NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 upright pillows swollen on one side. In the intervals 
 oi the wind, there was a dull sound of dripping about 
 the precincts of the church. 
 
 The cemetery of St. John had taken its own share 
 of the snow. All the graves were decently covered ; 
 
 tall white housetops Stood around in grave array; 
 worthy burghers were long ago in bed, be-nightcapped 
 like their domiciles ; there was no light in all the 
 neighborhood but a little peep from a lamp that hung 
 swinging in the church choir, and tossed the shadows 
 to and fro in time to its oscillations. The clock was 
 hard on ten when the patrol went by with halberds 
 and a lantern, beating their hands ; and they saw 
 nothing suspicious about the cemetery of St. John. 
 
 Yet there was a small house, backed up against the 
 cemetery wall, which was still awake, and awake to 
 evil purpose, in that snoring district. There was not 
 much to betray it from without ; only a stream of 
 warm vapor from the chimney-top, a patch where the 
 snow melted on the roof, and a few half-obliterated 
 footprints at the door. But within, behind the shut- 
 tered windows, Master Francis Villon the poet, and 
 some of the thievish crew with whom he consorted, 
 were keeping the night alive and passing round the 
 bottle. 
 
 A great pile of living embers diffused a strong and 
 ruddy glow from the arched chimney. Before this 
 straddled Dom Nicolas, the Picardy monk, with his 
 skirts picked up and his fat legs bared to the comfort- 
 able warmth. His dilated shadow cut the room in 
 half ; and the firelight only escaped on either side of 
 his broad person, and in a little pool between his out- 
 spread feet. His face had the beery, bruised appear- 
 ance of the continual drinker's ; it was covered with 
 a network of congested veins, purple in ordinary cir- 
 cumstances, but now pale violet, for even with his 
 back to the fire the cold pinched him on the other 
 side. His cowl had half fallen back, and made a 
 strange excrescence on either side of his bull neck.
 
 A LODGING FOR THE NIGHT. 247 
 
 So he straddled, grumbling, and cut the room in half 
 with the shadow of his portly frame. 
 
 On the right, Villon and Guy Tabary were huddled 
 together over a scrap of parchment ; Villon making a 
 ballade which he was to call the " Ballade of Roast 
 Fish," and Tabary spluttering admiration at his shoul- 
 der. The poet was a rag of a man, dark, little, and 
 lean, with hollow cheeks and thin black locks. He 
 carried his four-and-twenty years with feverish anima- 
 tion. Greed had made folds about his eyes, evil 
 smiles had puckered his mouth. The wolf and pig 
 struggled together in his face. It was an eloquent, sharp, 
 ugly, earthly countenance. His hands were small and 
 prehensile, with fingers knotted like a cord ; and they 
 were continually flickering in front of him in violent 
 and expressive pantomime. As for Tabary, a broad, 
 complacent, admiring imbecility breathed from his 
 squash nose and slobbering lips : he had become a 
 thief, just as he might have become the most decent of 
 burgesses, by the imperious chance that rules the lives 
 of human geese and human donkeys. 
 
 At the monk's other hand, Montigny and Thevenin 
 Pensete played a game of chance. About the first 
 there clung some flavor of good birth and training, as 
 about a fallen angel; something long, lithe, and courtly 
 in the person; something aquiline and darkling in the 
 face. Thevenin, poor soul, was in great feather: he had 
 done a good stroke of knavery that afternoon in the 
 Faubourg St. Jacques, and all night he had been gain- 
 ing from Montigny. A flat smile illuminated his face; 
 his bald head shone rosily in a garland of red curls; 
 his little protuberant stomach shook with silent chuck- 
 lings as lie swept in his gains. 
 
 " Doubles or quits ?" said Thevenin. 
 
 Montigny nodded grimly. 
 
 " Some may prefer to dine in state" wrote Villon, 
 " On bread and cheese on silver plate. Or, or — help 
 me out, Guido ! " 
 
 Tabary giggled.
 
 24S NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 M Or parsley on a golden dish" scribbled the poet. 
 
 The wind w.is freshening without; it drove the snow 
 before it, and sometimes raised its voice in a victorious 
 whoop, and made sepulchral grumblings in the chim- 
 ney. The cold was growing sharper as the night went 
 on. Villon, protruding his lips, imitated the gust with 
 something between a whistle and a groan. It was an 
 eerie, uncomfortable talent of the poets, much detested 
 by the Picardy monk. 
 
 "Can't you hear it rattle in the gibbet?" said Vil- 
 lon. " They are all dancing the devil's jig on nothing, 
 up there. You may dance, my gallants, you'll be none 
 the warmer! Whew! what a gust ! Down went some- 
 body just now ! A medlar the fewer on the three- 
 legged medlar-tree! — I say, Dom Nicolas, it'll be cold 
 to-night on the St. Denis Road ?" he asked. 
 
 Dom Nicolas winked both his big eyes, and seemed 
 to choke upon his Adam's apple. Montfaucon, the great 
 grisly Paris gibbet, stood hard by the St. Denis Road, 
 and the pleasantry touched him on the raw. As for 
 Tabary, he laughed immoderately over the medlars; 
 he had never heard anything more light-hearted; and 
 he held his sides and crowed. Villon fetched him a 
 fillip on the nose, which turned his mirth into an 
 attack of coughing. 
 
 " Oh, stop that row," said Villon, " and think of 
 rhymes to 'fish.' " 
 
 " Doubles or epiits," said Montigny doggedly. 
 
 " With all my heart," quoth Thevenin. 
 
 " Is there any more in that bottle ? " asked the monk. 
 
 "Open another," said Villon. "How do you ever 
 hope to fill that big hogshead, your body, with little 
 things like bottles ? And how do you expect to get to 
 heaven ? How many angels, do you fancy, can be 
 spared to carry up a single monk from Picardy ? Or 
 do you think yourself another Elias — and they'll send 
 the coach for you ?" 
 
 " Hominibus impossibile" replied the monk as he 
 filled his glass.
 
 A LODGING FOR THE NIGHT. 249 
 
 Tabary was in ecstasies. 
 
 Villon filliped his nose again. 
 
 " Laugh at my jokes, if you like.," he said. 
 
 " It was very good," objected Tabary. 
 
 Villon made a face at him. " Think of rhymes to 
 1 fish,' " he said. " What have you to do with Latin ? 
 You'll wish you knew none of it at the great assizes, 
 when the devil calls for Guido Tabary, clericus — the 
 devil with the hump-back and red-hot finger-nails. 
 Talking of the devil," he added in a whisper, " look 
 at Montigny ! " 
 
 All three peered covertly at the gamester. He did 
 not seem to be enjoying his luck. His mouth was a 
 little to a side; one nostril nearly shut, and the other 
 much inflated. The black dog was on his back, as 
 people say, in terrifying nursery metaphor; and he 
 breathed hard under the gruesome burden. 
 
 " He looks as if he could knife him," whispered 
 Tabary, with round eyes. 
 
 The monk shuddered, and turned his face and 
 spread his open hands to the red embers. It was the 
 cold that thus affected Dom Nicolas, and not any 
 excess of moral sensibility. 
 
 " Come now," said Villon — " about this ballade. 
 How does it run so far ? " And beating time with his 
 hand, he read it aloud to Tabary. 
 
 They were interrupted at the fourth rhyme by a 
 brief and fatal movement among the gamesters. The 
 round was completed, and Thevenin was just opening 
 his mouth to claim another victory, when Montigny 
 leaped up, swift as an adder, and stabbed him to the 
 heart. The blow took effect before he had time to 
 utter a cry, before he had time to move. A tremor or 
 two convulsed his frame; his hands opened and shut, 
 his heels rattled on the floor; then his head rolled 
 backward over one shoulder with the eyes wide open; 
 and Thevenin Pensete's spirit had returned to Him 
 who made it. 
 
 Everyone sprang to his feet; but the business was
 
 250 X/-:il' ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 over in two twos. The four living fellows looked at 
 each other in rather a ghastly fashion; the dead man 
 contemplating a corner of the roof with a singular and 
 Ugly leer. 
 
 " My God ! " said Tabary; and he began to pray in 
 Latin. 
 
 Villon broke out into hysterical laughter. He came 
 a step forward and ducked a ridiculous bow at Theve- 
 nin, and laughed still louder. Then he sat down sud- 
 denly, all of a heap, upon a stool, and continued 
 laughing bitterly as though he would shake himself to 
 pieces. 
 
 Montigny recovered his composure first. 
 
 " Let's see what he has about him," he remarked, 
 and he picked the dead man's pockets with a prac- 
 ticed hand, and divided the money into four equal 
 portions on the table. " There's for you," he said. 
 
 The monk received his share with a deep sigh, and 
 a single stealthy glance at the dead Thevenin, who 
 was beginning to sink into himself and topple side- 
 ways off the chair. 
 
 We're all in for it," cried Villon, swallowing his 
 mirth. " It's a hanging job for every man jack of us 
 that's here — not to speak of those who aren't." lie 
 made a shocking gesture in the air with his raised 
 right hand, and put out his tongue and threw his head 
 on one side, so as to counterfeit the appearance of one 
 who has been hanged. Then he pocketed his share of 
 the spoil, and executed a shuffle with his feet as if to 
 restore the circulation. 
 
 Tabary was the last to help himself ; he made a dash 
 at the money, and retired to the other end of the 
 apartment. 
 
 Montigny stuck Thevenin upright in the chair, and 
 drew out the dagger, which was followed by a jet of 
 blood. 
 
 " You fellows had better be moving," he said, as he 
 wiped the blade on his victim's doublet. 
 
 I think we had," returned Villon, with a gulp.
 
 A LODGING FOR THE NIGHT. 251 
 
 " Damn his fat head !" he broke out, " It sticks in 
 my throat like phlegm. What right has a man to have 
 red hair when he is dead ?" And he fell all of a heap 
 again upon the stool, and fairly covered his face with 
 his hands. 
 
 Montigny and Dom Nicolas laughed aloud, even 
 Tabary feebly chiming in. 
 
 " Cry baby," said the monk. 
 
 " I always said he was a woman," added Montigny, 
 with a sneer. " Sit up, can't you ?" he went on, giv- 
 ing another shake to the murdered body. " Tread out 
 that fire, Nick !" 
 
 But Nick was better employed; he was quietly tak- 
 ing Villon's purse, as the poet sat, limp and trembling, 
 on the stool where he had been making a ballade not 
 three minutes before. Montigny and Tabary dumbly 
 demanded a share of the booty, which the monk 
 silently promised as he passed the little bag into the 
 bosom of his gown. In many ways an artistic nature 
 unfits a man for practical existence. 
 
 No sooner had the theft been accomplished than Vil- 
 lon shook himself, jumped to his feet, and began 
 helping to scatter and extinguish the embers. Mean- 
 while Montigny opened the door and cautiously peered 
 into the street. The coast was clear ; there was no 
 meddlesome patrol in sight. Still it was judged wiser 
 to slip out severally ; and as Villon was himself in a 
 hurry to escape from the neighborhood of the dead 
 Thevenin, and the rest were in a still greater hurry to 
 get rid of him before he should discover the loss of 
 his money, he was the first by general consent to issue 
 forth into the street. 
 
 The wind had triumphed and swept all the clouds 
 from heaven. Only a few vapors, as thin as moon- 
 light, fleeted rapidly across the stars. It was bitter 
 cold; and by a common optical effect, things seemed 
 almost more definite than in the broadest daylight. 
 The sleeping city was absolutely still; a company of 
 white hoods, a field full of little alps, below the twink-
 
 15a -V/ /;• ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 ling stars. Villon < lirsed his fortune. Would it were 
 still snowing ! Now, wherever he went, he left an 
 
 indelible trail behind him on the glittering streets ; 
 wherever he went he was still tethered to the house by 
 the cemetery of St. John ; wherever he went he must 
 weave, with his own plodding feet, the rope that bound 
 him to the crime and would bind him to the gallows. 
 The leer of the dead man came back to him with a 
 new significance, lie snapped his fingers as if to pluck 
 up his own spirits, and choosing a street at random, 
 stepped boldly forward in the snow. 
 
 Two things preoccupied him as he went : the aspect 
 of the gallows at Montfaucon in this bright, windy 
 phase of the night's existence, for one ; and for 
 another, the look of the dead man with his bald head 
 and garland of red curls. Both struck cold upon his 
 heart, and he kept quickening his pace as if he could 
 escape from unpleasant thoughts by ni2re fleetness of 
 foot. Sometimes he looked back over his shoulder 
 with a sudden nervous jerk ; but he was the only mov- 
 ing thing in the white streets, except when the wind 
 swooped round a corner and threw up the snow, which 
 was beginning to freeze, in spouts of glittering dust. 
 
 Suddenly he saw, a long way before him, a black 
 clump and a couple of lanterns. The clump was in 
 motion, and the lanterns swung as though carried by 
 men walking. It was a patrol. And though it w r as 
 merely crossing his line of march he judged it wiser 
 t out of eyeshot as speedily as he could. He was 
 not in the humor to be challenged, and he was con- 
 scious of making a very conspicuous mark upon the 
 snow. Just on his left hand there stood a great hotel, 
 with some turrets and a large porch before the door ; 
 s half-ruinous, he remembered, and had long stood 
 c pty ; and so he made three steps of it, and jumped 
 in • 1 the shelter of the porch. It was pretty dark inside, 
 : the glimmer of the snowy streets, and he was 
 groping forward with outspread hands, when he stum- 
 bled over some substance which offered an indescriba-
 
 A LODGING FOR THE NIGHT. 253 
 
 ble mixture of resistances, hard and soft, firm and 
 loose. His heart gave a leap, and he sprang two steps 
 back and stared dreadfully at the obstacle. Then he 
 gave a little laugh of relief. It was only a woman, and 
 she dead. He knelt beside her to make sure upon 
 this latter point. She was freezing cold, and rigid like 
 a stick. A little ragged finery fluttered in the wind 
 about her hair, and her cheeks had been heavily 
 rouged that same afternoon. Her pockets were quite 
 empty ; but in her stocking, underneath the garter, 
 Villon found two of the small coins that went by the 
 name of whites. It was little enough ; but it was 
 always something ; and the poet was moved with a 
 deep sense of pathos that she should have died before 
 she had spent her money. That seemed to him a dark 
 and pitiable mystery; and he looked from the coins in 
 his hand to the dead woman, and back again to the 
 coins, shaking his head over the riddle of man's life. 
 Henry V. of England, dying at Vincennes just after 
 he had conquered France, and this poor jade cut off 
 by a cold draught in a great man's doorway, before she 
 had time to spend her couple of whites — it seemed a 
 cruel way to carry on the world. Two whites would 
 have taken such a little while to squander ; and yet it 
 would have been one more good taste in the mouth, 
 one more smack of the lips, before the devil got the 
 soul, and the body was left to birds and vermin. He 
 would like to use all his tallow before the light was 
 blown out and the lantern broken. 
 
 While these thoughts were passing through his mind, 
 he was feeling, half mechanically, for his purse. Sud- 
 denly his heart stopped beating ; a feeling of cold 
 scales passed up the back of his legs, and a cold blow 
 seemed to fall upon his scalp. He stood petrified for 
 a moment ; then he felt again with one feverish move- 
 ment ; and then his loss burst upon him, and he was 
 covered at once with perspiration. To spendthrifts 
 money is so living and actual — it is such a thin veil 
 between them and their pleasures ! There is only one
 
 254 NE W ARA HI. 1 .V NIGHTS. 
 
 limit to their fortune — that of time ; and a spendthrift 
 with only a few crowns is the Emperor of Rome until 
 they are spent. For such a person to lose his money 
 is to suffer the most shocking reverse, and fall from 
 heaven to hell, from all to nothing, in a breath. And 
 all the more if he has put his head in the halter for it ; 
 if he may be hanged to-morrow for that same purse, 
 so dearly earned, so foolishly departed ! Villon stood 
 and cursed ; he threw the two whites into the street ; 
 he shook his list at heaven ; he stamped, and was not 
 horrified to find himself trampling the poor corpse. 
 Then he began rapidly to retrace his steps towards the 
 house beside the cemetery. He had forgotten all fear 
 of the patrol, which was long gone by at any rate, and 
 had no idea but that of his lost purse. It was in vain 
 that he looked right and left upon the snow : nothing 
 was to be seen. He had not dropped it in the streets. 
 Had it fallen in the house ? He would have liked 
 dearly to go in and see ; but the idea of the grisly 
 occupant unmanned him. And he saw besides, as he 
 drew near, that their efforts to put out the fire had 
 been unsuccessful ; on the contrary, it had broken into 
 a blaze, and a changeful light played in the chinks of 
 door and window, and revived his terror for the author- 
 ities and Paris gibbet. 
 
 He returned to the hotel with the porch, and groped 
 about upon the snow for the money he had thrown 
 away in his childish passion. But he could only find 
 one white ; the other had probably struck sideways 
 and sunk deeply in. With a single white in his pocket, 
 all his projects for a rousing night in some wild tavern 
 vanished utterly away. And it was not only pleasure 
 that fled laughing from his grasp ; positive discomfort, 
 positive pain, attacked him as he stood ruefully before 
 the porch. His perspiration had dried upon him ; and 
 although the wind had now fallen, a binding frost 
 was setting in stronger with every hour, and he felt 
 benumbed and sick at heart. What was to be done ? 
 Late as was the hour, improbable as was success, he
 
 A LODGING FOR THE NIGHT. =55 
 
 would try the house of his adopted father, the chaplain 
 of St. Benoit. 
 
 He ran there all the way, and krocked timidly. 
 There was no answer. He knocked again and again, 
 taking heart with every stroke ; and at last steps were 
 heard approaching from within. A barred wicket fell 
 open in the iron-studded door, and emitted a gush of 
 yellow light. 
 
 " Hold up your face to the wicket," said the chaplain 
 from within. 
 
 "It's only me," whimpered Villon. 
 
 "Oh, it's only you, is it ?" returned the chaplain; 
 and he cursed him with foul unpriestly oaths for dis- 
 turbing him at such an hour, and bade him be off to 
 hell, where he came from. 
 
 " My hands are blue to the wrist," pleaded Villon; 
 "my feet are dead and full of twinges; my nose aches 
 with the sharp air; the cold lies at my heart. I may 
 be dead before morning. Only this once, father, and 
 before God, I will never ask again! " 
 
 "You should have come earlier," said the ecclesi- 
 astic coolly. " Young men require a lesson now and 
 then." He shut the wicket and retired deliberately 
 into the interior of the house. 
 
 Villon was beside himself; he beat upon the door 
 with his hands and feet, and shouted hoarsely after the 
 chaplain. 
 
 " Wormy old fox i he cried. " If I had my hand 
 under your twist, I would send you flying headlong 
 into the bottomless pit." 
 
 A door shut in the interior, faintly audible to the 
 poet down long passages. He passed his hand over 
 his mouth with an oath. And then the humor of the 
 situation struck him, and he laughed and looked lightly 
 up to heaven, where the stars seemed to be winking 
 over his discomfiture. 
 
 What was to be done ? It looked very like a night 
 in the frosty streets. The idea of the dead woman 
 popped into his imagination, and gave him a hearty
 
 156 NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS, 
 
 fright; what had happened to her in the early night 
 
 nii^ht very well happen to him before morning. And 
 1 young! and with such immense possibilities of 
 disorderly amusement before him! He felt quite pa- 
 thetic over the notion of his own fate, as if it had been 
 ■ en- else's, and made a little imaginative vignette 
 of the scene in the morning when they should find his 
 
 He passed all his chances under review, turning the 
 white between his thumb and forefinger. Unfortu- 
 nately he was on bad terms with some old friends who 
 would once have taken pity on him in such a plight. 
 He had lampooned them inverses; he had beaten and 
 cheated them; and yet now, when he was in so close a 
 pinch, he thought there was at least one who might 
 perhaps relent. It was a chance. It was worth trying 
 at least, and he would go and see. 
 
 On the way, two little accidents happened to him 
 which colored his musings in a very different manner. 
 For, first, he fell in with the track of a patrol, and 
 walked in it for some hundred yards, although it lay 
 out of his direction. And this spirited him up; at least 
 he had confused his trail; for he was still possessed 
 with the idea of people tracking him all about Paris 
 over the snow, and collaring him next morning before 
 he was awake. The other matter affected him quite 
 differently. He passed a street corner, where, not so 
 long before, a woman and herchil 1 had been devoured 
 by wolves. This was just the kind of weather, he 
 reflected, when wolves might take it into their heads 
 to enter Paris again; and a lone man in these deserted 
 streets would run the chance of something worse than 
 a mere scare. Hr stopped and looked upon the place 
 with an unpleasant interest — it was a centre where sev- 
 eral lanes intersected each other; and he looked down 
 them all, one after another, and held his breath to 
 listen, iest he should detect some galloping black 
 things on the snow or hear the sound of. howling be- 
 .1 him and the river : He remembered his mother
 
 A LODGING FOR THE NIGHT. 257 
 
 telling him the story and pointing out the spot, while 
 he was yet a child. His mother ! If he only knew 
 where she lived, he might make sure at least of shelter. 
 He determined he would inquire upon the morrow; 
 nay, he would go and see her too, poor old girl ! So 
 thinking, he arrived at his destination — his last hope 
 for the night. 
 
 The house was quite dark, like its neighbors; and 
 yet after a few taps, he heard a movement overhead, a 
 door opening, and a cautious voice asking who was 
 there. The poet named himself in a loud whisper, 
 and waited, not without some trepidation, the result. 
 Nor had he to wait long. A window was suddenly 
 opened, and a pailful of slops splashed down upon the 
 doorstep. Villon had not been unprepared for some- 
 thing of the sort, and had put himself as much in shel- 
 ter as the nature of the porch admitted; but for all 
 that, he was deplorably drenched below the waist. His 
 hose began to freeze almost at once. Death from cold 
 and exposure stared him in the face; he remembered 
 he was of phthisical tendency, and began coughing ten- 
 tatively. But the gravity of the dinger steadied his 
 nerves. He stopped a few hundred yards from the 
 door where he had been so rudely used, and reflected 
 with his finger to his nose. He could only see one way 
 of getting a lodging, and that was to take it. He had 
 noticed a house not far away, which looked as if it 
 might be easily broken into, and thither he betook him- 
 self promptly, entertaining himself on the way with the 
 idea of a room still hot, with a tabic still loaded with 
 the remains of supper, where he might pass the rest of 
 the black hours and whence he should issue, on the 
 morrow, with an armful of valuable plate. He even 
 considered on what viands and what wines he should 
 prefer; and as he was calling the roll of his favorite 
 dainties, roast fish presented itself to his mind with an 
 odd mixture of amusement and horror. 
 
 " I shall never finish that ballade," he thought to 
 himself ; and then, with another shudder at the recoh
 
 1 5 B XE W A RA AY. / X NIGH 1 S. 
 
 lection, "Oli, damn his fat head!" he repeated fer« 
 vently, and spat upon the snow. 
 
 The house in question looked dark at first sight ; but 
 as Villon made a preliminary inspection in si 
 
 of the handiest point of attack, a little twinkle of 
 light caught his eye from behind a curtained 
 window. 
 
 " The devil ! ' he thought. " People awake ! Some 
 student or some saint, confound the crew ! Can't they 
 get drunk and lie in bed snoring like their neighbors ! 
 What's the good of curfew, and poor devils of bell- 
 ringers jumping at a rope's end in bell-towers? What's 
 the use of day, if people sit up all night? The gripes 
 to them ! " He grinned as he saw where his logic was 
 leading him. "Every man to his business, after all," 
 added he, " and if they're awake, by the Lord, I may 
 come by a supper honestly for once, and cheat the 
 devil/' 
 
 He went boldly to the door and knocked with an 
 assured hand. On both previous occasions, he had 
 knocked timidly and with some dread of attracting 
 notice ; but now when he had just discarded the 
 thought of a burglarious entry, knocking at a door 
 seemed a mighty simple and innocent proceeding. 
 The sound of his blows echoed through the house with 
 thin, phantasmal reverberations, as though it were quite 
 empty ; but 'these had scarcely died away before a 
 measured tread drew near, a couple of bolts were with- 
 drawn, and one wing was opened broadly, as though 
 : ile or fear of guile were known to those within. 
 
 A t !1 figure of a man, muscular and spare, but a little 
 bent confronted Villon. The head was massive in 
 bulk, but finely sculptured ; the nose blunt at the bot- 
 tom, but refining upward to where it joined a pair of 
 strong and honest eyebrows; the mouth and eyes sur- 
 rounded with delicate markings, and the whole face 
 based upon a thick white beard, boldly and squarely 
 trimmed. Seen as it was by the light of a flickering 
 hand-lamp, it looked perhaps nobler than it had aright
 
 A LODGING FOR THE NIGHT. 259 
 
 to do ; but it was a fine face, honorable rather than 
 intelligent, strong, simple, and righteous. 
 
 " You knock late, sir," said the old man in resonant, 
 courteous tones. 
 
 Villon cringed, and brought up many servile words 
 of apology ; at a crisis of this sort, the beggar was 
 uppermost in him, and the man of genius hid his head 
 with confusion. 
 
 "You are cold," repeated the old man, "and hun- 
 gry ? Well, step in." And he ordered him into the 
 house with a noble enough gesture. 
 
 " Some great seigneur," thought Villon, as his host, 
 setting down the lamp on the flagged pavement of the 
 entry, shot the bolts once more into their places. 
 
 " You will pardon me if I go in front," he said, when 
 this was done ; and he preceded the poet upstairs into 
 a large apartment, warmed with a pan of charcoal and 
 lit by a great lamp hanging from the roof. It was 
 very bare of furniture : only some gold plate on a 
 sideboard ; some folios ; and a stand of armor 
 between the windows. Some smart tapestry hung 
 upon the walls, representing the crucifixion of our 
 Lord in one piece, and in another a scene of shepherds 
 and shepherdesses by a running stream. Over the 
 chimney was a shield of arms. 
 
 " Will you seat yourself," said the old man, " and 
 forgive me if I leave you ? 1 am alone in my house 
 to-night, and if you are to eat I must forage for you 
 myself." 
 
 No sooner was his host gone than Villon leaped from 
 the chair on which he had just seated himself, and 
 began examining the room, with the stealth and passion 
 of a cat. He weighed the gold flagons in his hand, 
 opened all the folios, and investigated the arms upon 
 the shield, and the stuff with which the seats were 
 lined. He raised the window curtains, and saw that 
 the windows were set with rich stained glass in figures, 
 so far as he could see, of martial import. Then he 
 stood in the middle of the room, drew a long breath,
 
 260 iVEW ARABIAN XIUIITS. 
 
 and retaining it with puffed (hecks, looked round and 
 round him, turning on his heels, as if to impress every 
 feature ot" the apartment on his memory. 
 
 '* Seven pieces of plate," he said. " If there had 
 been ten, I would have risked it. A fine house, and a 
 fine old master, so help me all the saints ! " 
 
 And just then, hearing the old man's tread return- 
 ing along the corridor, he stole back to his chair, and 
 began humbly toasting his wet legs before the charcoal 
 pan. 
 
 His entertainer had a plate of meat in one hand and 
 a jug of wine in the other. He sat down the plate 
 upon the table, motioning Villon to draw in his chair, 
 and going to the sideboard, brought back two goblets, 
 which he filled. 
 
 " I drink your better fortune," he said, gravely 
 touching Villon's cup with his own. 
 
 " To our better acquaintance," said the poet, growing 
 bold. A mere man of the people would have been 
 awed by the courtesy of the old seigneur, but Villon 
 was hardened in that matter ; he had made mirth for 
 great lords before now, and found them as black 
 rascals as himself. And so he devoted himself to the 
 viands with a ravenous gusto, while the old man, 
 leaning backward, watched him with steady, curious 
 eyes. 
 
 " You have blood on your shoulder, my man," he 
 said. 
 
 Montigny must have laid his wet right hand upon 
 him as he left the house. He cursed Montigny in his 
 heart. 
 
 " It was none of my shedding," he stammered. 
 
 " I had not supposed so," returned his host quietly. 
 "A brawl?" 
 
 " Well, something of that sort," Villon admitted with 
 a quaver. 
 
 ' Perhaps a fellow murdered ?" 
 
 " Oh, no, not murdered," said the poet, more and 
 more confused. " It was all fair play — murdered by
 
 A LODGING FOR THE NIGHT. 261 
 
 accident. I had no hand in it, God strike me dead ! " 
 he added fervently. 
 
 " One rogue the fewer, I dare say," observed the 
 master of the house. 
 
 " You may dare to say that," agreed Villon, infinitely 
 relieved. " As big a rogue as there is between here 
 and Jerusalem. He turned up his toes like a lamb. 
 But it was a nasty thing to look at. I dare say you've 
 seen dead men in your time, my lord ? " he added, 
 glancing at the armor. 
 
 " Many," said the old man. "I have followed the 
 wars, as you imagine." 
 
 Villon laid down his knife and fork, which he had 
 just taken up again. 
 
 " Were any of them bald ? " he asked. 
 
 " Oh yes, and with hair as white as mine." 
 
 " I don't think I should mind the white so much," 
 said Villon. " His was red." And he had a return of 
 his shuddering and tendency to laughter, which he 
 drowned with a great draught of wine. " I'm a little 
 put out when I think of it," he went on. " I knew 
 him — damn him! And then the cold gives a man 
 fancies — or the fancies give a man cold, I don't know 
 which." 
 
 " Have you any money ? " asked the old man. 
 
 " I have one white," returned the poet, laughing. 
 " I got it out of a dead jade's stocking in a porch. 
 She was as dead as Caesar, poor wench, and as cold as 
 a church, with bits of ribbon sticking in her hair. This 
 is a hard world in winter for wolves and wenches and 
 poor rogues like me." 
 
 "I," said the old man, "am Enguerrand de ia 
 Feuillee, seigneur de Brisetout, bailly du Patatrac. 
 Who and what may you be ? " 
 
 Villon rose and made a suitable reverence. " I am 
 called Francis Villon," he said, "a poor Master of Arts 
 of this university. I know some Latin, and a deal 
 of vice. I can make chansons, ballades, lais, virelais, 
 and roundels, and I am very fond of wine. I was
 
 NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS 
 
 born in a garret, and I shall not improbably die upon 
 the gallows. 1 may add, my lord, that from this night 
 forward I am your lordship's very obsequious servant 
 to command." 
 
 " No servant of mine," said the knight "my guest 
 for this evening, and no more." 
 
 " A very grateful guest," said Villon politely, and 
 he drank in dumb show to his entertainer. 
 
 " You are shrewd," began the old man, tapping his 
 forehead, "very shrewd; you have learning; you 
 are a clerk ; and yet you take a small piece of money 
 off a dead woman in the street. Is it not a kind of 
 theft ? " 
 
 " It is a kind of theft much practised in the wars, 
 my lord." 
 
 " The wars are the field of honor," returned the 
 old man proudly. " There a man plays his life upon 
 the cast ; he fights in the name of his lord the king, his 
 Lord God, and all their lordships the holy saints and 
 angels." 
 
 Put it," said Villon, " that I were really a thief, 
 should I not play my life also, and against heavier 
 odds ? " 
 
 " For gain but not for honor." 
 
 "Gain?" repeated Villon with a shrug. "Gain! 
 The poor fellow wants supper, and takes it. So does 
 the soldier in a campaign. Why, what are all these 
 requisitions we hear so much about ? If they are not 
 gain to those who take them, they are loss enough to 
 the others. The men-at-arms drink by a good fire, 
 while the burgher bites his nails to buy them wine and 
 wood. I have seen a good many ploughmen swinging 
 on trees about the country ; ay, I have seen thirty on 
 one elm, and a very poor figure they made; and when I 
 asked someone how all these came to be hanged, I was 
 told it was because they could not scrape together 
 enough crowns to satisfy the men-at-arms." 
 
 " These things are a necessity of war, which the low- 
 born must endure with constancy. It is true that some
 
 A LODGING FOR THE NIGHT. 263 
 
 captains drive overhard; there are spirits in every rank 
 not easily moved by pity; and indeed many follow arms 
 who are no better than brigands." 
 
 "You see," said the poet, "you cannot separate the 
 soldier from the brigand; and what is a thief but an 
 isolated brigand with circumspect manners ? I steal a 
 couple of mutton chops, without so much as disturbing 
 people's sleep; the farmer grumbles a bit, but sups 
 none the less wholesomely on what remains. You 
 come up blowing gloriously on a trumpet, take away the 
 whole sheep, and beat the farmer pitifully into the 
 bargain. I have no trumpet; I am only Tom, Dick, or 
 Harry; I am a rogue and a dog, and hanging's too 
 good for me — with all my heart; but just ask the 
 farmer which of us he prefers, just find out which of 
 us he lies awake to curse on cold nights." 
 
 " Look at us two," said his lordship. " I am old, 
 strong, and honored. If I were turned from my house 
 to-morrow, hundreds would be proud to shelter me. 
 Poor people would go out and pass the night in the 
 streets with their children, if I merely hinted that I 
 wished to be alone. And I find you up, wandering 
 homeless, and picking farthings off dead women by the 
 wayside ! I fear no man and nothing; I have seen 
 you tremble and lose countenance at a word. I wait 
 God's summons contentedly in my own house, or, if it 
 please the king to call me out again, upon the field of 
 battle. You look for the gallows; a rough, swift death, 
 without hope or honor. Is there no difference between 
 these two ? " 
 
 "As far as to the moon," Villon acquiesced. " But 
 if I had been born lord of Brisetout, and you had been 
 the poor scholar Francis, would the difference have 
 been any the less ? Should not I have been warming 
 my knees at this charcoal pan, and would not you 
 have been groping for farthings in the snow ? Should 
 not I have been the soldier, and you the thief? " 
 
 " A thief ? " cried the old man. " I a thief ! If you 
 understood your words, you would repent them."
 
 164 NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 Villon turned out his hands with a gesture of inimit- 
 able impudence. " \i your lordship had done me the 
 
 honor to follow my argument ! " he said. 
 
 "1 do you too much honor in submitting to your 
 presence," said the knight. " Learn to curb your 
 tongue when you speak with old and honorable men, 
 or someone hastier than I may reprove you in a sharper 
 fashion." And he rose and paced the lower end of the 
 apartment, struggling with anger and antipathy. Villon 
 surreptitiously refilled his cup, and settled himself 
 more comfortably in the chair, crossing his knees and 
 leaning his head upon one hand and the elbow against 
 the back of the chair. He was now replete and warm; 
 and he was in nowise frightened for his host, having 
 gauged him as justly as was possible between two such 
 different characters. The night was far spent, and in 
 a very comfortable fashion after all; and he felt mor- 
 ally certain of a safe departure on the morrow. 
 
 " Tell me one thing," said the old man, pausing in 
 his walk. " Are you really a thief ? " 
 
 " I claim the sacred rights of hospitality," returned 
 the poet. " My lord, I am." 
 
 " You are very young," the knight continued. 
 
 " I should never have been so'old," replied Villon, 
 showing his fingers, "if I had not helped myself with 
 these ten talents. They have been my nursing mothers 
 and my nursing fathers." 
 
 "You may still repent and change." 
 
 "I repent daily," said the poet. "There are few 
 people more given to repentance than poor Francis. 
 As for change, let somebody change my circumstances. 
 A man must continue to eat, if it were only that he 
 may continue to repent." 
 
 " The change must begin in the heart," returned the 
 old man solemnly. 
 
 "My dear lord," answered Villon, "do you really 
 fancy that I steal for pleasure ? I hate stealing, like 
 any other piece of work or of danger. My teeth chat- 
 ter when I see a gallows. But I must eat, I must drink,
 
 A LODGING FOR THE NIGHT. 265 
 
 I must mix in society of some sort. What the devil ! 
 Man is not a solitary animal — Cui Deus fccminam 
 tradit. Make me king's pantler — make me abbot of 
 St. Denis; make me bailly of the Patatrac; and then I 
 shall be changed indeed. But as long as you leave 
 me the poor scholar Francis Villon, without a farthing, 
 why, of course, I remain the same." 
 
 " The grace of God is all-powerful." 
 
 "I should be a heretic to question it," said Francis. 
 " It has made you lord of Brisetout and bailly of the 
 Patatrac; it has given me nothing but the quick wits 
 under my hat and these ten toes upon my hands. May 
 I help myself to wine ? I thank you respectfully. By 
 God's grace, you have a very superior vintage." 
 
 The lord of Brisetout walked to and fro with his 
 hands behind his back. Perhaps he was not yet quite 
 settled in his mind about the parallel between thieves 
 and soldiers; perhaps Villon had interested him by 
 some cross-thread of sympathy; perhaps his wits were 
 simply muddled by so much unfamiliar reasoning; but 
 whatever the cause, he somehow yearned to convert 
 the young man to a better way of thinking, and could 
 not make up his mind to drive him forth again into the 
 street. 
 
 " There is something more than I can understand in 
 this," he said at length. " Your mouth is full of sub- 
 tleties, and the devil has led you very far astray ; but 
 the devil is only a very weak spirit before God's truth, 
 and all his subtleties vanish at a word of true honor, like 
 darkness at morning. Listen to me once more. I 
 learned long ago that a gentleman should live chival- 
 rously and lovingly to God, and the king, and his lady; 
 and though I have seen many strange things done, I 
 have still striven to command my ways upon that rule. 
 It is not only written in all noble histories, but in every 
 man's heart, if he will take care to read. You speak 
 of food and wine, and I know very well that hunger is 
 a difficult trial to endure ; but you do not speak of 
 other wants; you say nothing of honor, of faith to God
 
 B4S6 NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 .nnl other men, of courtesy, of love without reproach. 
 It in. iv be that I am not very wise — and yet I think. I 
 am — but you seem to me like one who has lost his way 
 and made a great error in life. You arc attending to 
 the little wants, and you have totally forgotten the 
 great and only real ones, like a man who should be 
 • 'ring toothache on the Judgment Day. For such 
 things as honor and love and faith are not only nobler 
 than food and drink, but indeed I think we desire them 
 more, and suffer more sharply for their absence. I 
 speak to you as I think you will most easily understand 
 me. Are you not, while careful to fill your belly, dis- 
 regarding another appetite in your heart, which spoils 
 the pleasure of your life and keeps you continually 
 wretched ? " 
 
 Villon was sensibly nettled under all this sermon- 
 izing. " You think I have no sense of honor ! " he 
 cried. " I'm poor enough, God knows ! It's hard to 
 see rich people with their gloves, and you blowing in 
 your hands. An empty belly is a bitter thing, although 
 you speak so lightly of it. If you had had as many as 
 I, perhaps you would change your tune. Any way I'm 
 a thief — make the most of that — but I'm not a devil 
 from hell, God strike me dead. I would have you to 
 know I've an honor of my own, as good as yours, 
 though I don't prate about it all day long, as if it was 
 .1 God's miracle to have any. It seems quite natural 
 to me; I keep it in its box till its wanted. Why now, 
 look you here, how long have I been in this room with 
 you ? Did you not tell me you were alone in the 
 house? Look at your gold plate! You're strong, if 
 you like, but you're old and unarmed, and I have 
 my knife. What did I want but a jerk of the elbow 
 and here would have been you with the cold steel in 
 your bowels, and there Would have been me, linking in 
 the streets, with an armful of golden cups ! Did you 
 suppose I hadn't wit enough to see that ? And I scorned 
 the action. There are your damned goblets, as safe as 
 in a church; there are you, with your heart ticking as
 
 A LODGING FOR THE NIGHT. 2G7 
 
 good as new ; and here am I, ready to go out again as 
 poor as I came in, with my one white that you threw 
 in my teeth ! And you think I have no sense of honor. 
 — God strike me dead ! " 
 
 The old man stretched out his right arm. "I will 
 tell you what you are," he said. " You are a rogue, 
 my man, an impudent and black-hearted rogue and 
 vagabond. I have passed an hour with you. Oh ! 
 believe me, I feel myself disgraced ! And you have 
 eaten and drunk at my table. But now I am sick at 
 your presence; the day has come, and the night-bird 
 should be off to his roost. Will you go before, or 
 after ? " 
 
 " Which you please," returned the poet, rising. " I 
 believe you to be strictly honorable." He thoughtfully 
 emptied his cup. " I wish I could add you were intelli- 
 gent," he went on, knocking on his head with his 
 knuckles. " Age ! age ! the brains stiff and rheu- 
 matic." 
 
 The old man preceded him from a point of self- 
 respect; Villon followed, whistling, with his thumbs in 
 his girdle. 
 
 " God pity you," said the lord of Brisetout at the 
 door. 
 
 " Good-bye, papa," returned Villon with a yawn. 
 " Many thanks for the cold mutton." 
 
 The door closed behind him. The dawn was break- 
 ing over the white roofs. A chill, uncomfortable morn- 
 ing ushered in the day. Villon stood and heartily 
 stretched himself in the middle of the road. 
 
 " A very dull old gentleman," he thought. " I wonder 
 what his goblets may be worth."
 
 THE SIRE DE MALfiTROIT'S 
 DOOR.
 
 THE SIRE DE MAL&TROITS DOOR. 
 
 DENIS DE BEAULIEU was not yet tvvo-and- 
 tvventy, but he counted himself a grown man, and 
 a very accomplished cavalier into the bargain. Lads 
 were early formed in that rough, warfaring epoch ; and 
 when one has been in a pitched battle and a dozen 
 raids, has killed one's man in an honorable fashion, and 
 knows a thing or two of strategy and mankind, a cer- 
 tain swagger in the gait is surely to be pardoned. He 
 had put up his horse with due care, and supped with 
 due deliberation ; and then, in a very agreeable frame 
 of mind, went out to pay a visit in the gray of the 
 evening. It was not a very wise proceeding on the 
 young man's part. He would have done better to 
 remain beside the fire or go decently to bed. For the 
 town was full of the troops of Burgundy and England 
 under a mixed command ; and though Denis was there 
 on safe-conduct, his safe-conduct was like to serve him 
 little on a chance encounter. 
 
 It was September, 1429 ; the weather had fallen 
 sharp ; a flighty piping wind, laden with showers, beat 
 about the township ; and the dead leaves ran riot along 
 the streets. Here and there a window was already 
 lighted up ; and the noise of men-at-arms making 
 merry over supper within, came forth in fits and was 
 swallowed up and carried away by the wind. The 
 night fell swiftly ; the flag of England, fluttering on 
 the spire-top, grew ever fainter and fainter against the 
 flying clouds — a black speck like a swallow in the 
 tumultuous, leaden chaos of the sky. As the night fell 
 the wind rose, and began to hoot under archways and 
 roar amid the tree-tops in the valley below the town. 
 
 Denis de Beaulieu walked fast and was soon knock- 
 271
 
 fJ2 NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 ing at his friend's door ; but though he promised him- 
 self to stay only a little while and make an early return, 
 his welcome was so pleasant, and he found so much to 
 delay him, that it was already long past midnight 
 before he said good-bye upon the threshold. The 
 wind had fallen again in the meanwhile ; the night was 
 as black as the grave ; not a star, nor a glimmer of 
 moonshine, slipped through the canopy of cloud. 
 Denis was ill-acquainted with the intricate lanes of 
 Chateau Landon ; even by daylight he had found some 
 trouble in picking his way; and in this absolute dark- 
 ness he soon lost it altogether. He was certain of one 
 thing only — to keep mounting the hill ; for his friend's 
 house lay at the lower end, or tail, of Chateau Landon, 
 while the inn was up at the head, under the great 
 church spire. With this clue to go upon he stumbled 
 and groped forward, now breathing more freely in open 
 places where there was a good slice of sky overhead, 
 now feeling along the wall in stifling closes. It is an 
 eerie and mysterious position to be thus submerged in 
 opaque blackness in an almost unknown town. The 
 silence is terrifying in its possibilities. The touch of 
 cold window bars to the exploring hand startles the 
 man like the touch of a toad ; the inequalities of the 
 pavement shake his heart into his mouth ; a piece of 
 denser darkness threatens an ambuscade or a chasm 
 in the pathway ; and where the air is brighter, the 
 houses put on strange and bewildering appearances, as 
 if to lead him farther from his way. For Denis, who 
 had to regain his inn without attracting notice, there 
 was real danger as well as mere discomfort in the walk ; 
 and he went warily and boldly at once, and at every 
 corner paused to make an observation. 
 
 He had been for some time threading a lane so nar- 
 row that he could touch a wall with either hand when 
 it began to open out and go sharply downward. Plainly 
 this lay no longer in the direction of his inn ; but the 
 hope of a little more light tempted him forward to 
 reconnoitre. The lane ended in a terrace with a barti-
 
 THE SIRE DE MAL^TROIT'S DOOR. 273 
 
 zan wall, which gave an outlook between high houses, 
 as out of an embrasure, into the valley lying dark and 
 formless several hundred feet below. Denis looked 
 down, and could discern a few tree-tops waving and a 
 single speck of brightness where the river ran across a 
 weir. The weather was clearing up, and the sky had 
 lightened, so as to show the outline of the heavier 
 clouds and the dark margin of the hills. By the 
 uncertain glimmer, the house on his left hand should 
 be a place of some pretensions ; it was surmounted by 
 several pinnacles and turret-tops ; the round stern of 
 a chapel, with a fringe of flying buttresses, projected 
 boldly from the main block ; and the door was sheltered 
 under a deep porch carved with figures and overhung 
 by two long gargoyles. The windows of the chapel 
 gleamed through their intricate tracery with a light as 
 of many tapers, and threw out the buttresses and the 
 peaked roof in a more intense blackness against the 
 sky. It was plainly the hotel of some great family of 
 the neighborhood ; and as it reminded Denis of a town 
 house of his own at Bourges, he stood for some time 
 gazing up at it and mentally gauging the skill of the 
 architects and the consideration of the two families. 
 
 There seemed to be no issue to the terrace but the 
 lane by which he had reached it ; he could only retrace 
 his steps, but he had gained some notion of his where- 
 abouts, and hoped by this means to hit the main 
 thoroughfare and speedily regain the inn. He was 
 reckoning without that chapter of accidents which was 
 to make this night memorable above all others in his 
 career ; for he had not gone back above a hundred 
 yards before he saw a light coming to meet him, and 
 heard loud voices speaking together in the echoing 
 narrows of the lane. It was a party of men-at-arms 
 going the night round with torches. Denis assured 
 himself that they had all been making free with the 
 wine-bowl, and were in no mood to be particular about 
 safe-conducts or the niceties of chivalrous war. It was 
 as like as not that they would kill him like a dog and
 
 i~, i VEW AR \BIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 leave him where he fell. The situation was inspiriting 
 but nervous. Their own torches would conceal him 
 from sight, he reflected ; and he hoped that they would 
 drown the n rise of hi. footsteps with their own empty 
 It he w< re but fleet and silent, he might evade 
 their notice altogether. 
 
 Unfortunately, as he turned to heat a retreat, his foot 
 rolled upon a pebble ; he fell against the wall with an 
 ejaculation, and his sword rang loudly on the stones. 
 Two or three voices demanded who went there — some 
 in French, some in English ; but Denis made no reply, 
 and ran the faster down the lane. Once upon the 
 terrace, he paused to look back. They still kept call- 
 ing after him, and just then began to double the pace 
 in pursuit, with a considerable clank of armor, and 
 great tossing of the torchlight to and fro in the narrow 
 jaws of the passage. 
 
 Denis cast a look around and darted into the porch. 
 There he might escape observation, or — if that were 
 too much to expect — was in a capital posture whether 
 for parley or defence. So thinking, he drew his sword 
 and tried to set his back against the door. To his sur- 
 prise, it yielded behind his weight ; and though he 
 turned in a moment, continued to swing back on oiled 
 and noiseless hinges, until it stood wide open on a 
 black interior. When things fall out opportunely for 
 the person concerned, he is not apt to be critical about 
 the how or why, his own immediate personal conven- 
 ience seeming a sufficient reason for the strangest 
 oddities and revolutions in our sublunary things ; and 
 so Denis, without a moment's hesitation, stepped within 
 and partly closed the door behind him to conceal his 
 place of refuge. Nothing was further from his 
 thoughts than to close it altogether ; but for some 
 inexplicable reason — perhaps by a spring or a weight 
 — the ponderous mass of oak whipped itself out of his 
 fingers and clanked to, with a formidable rumble and 
 a noise like the falling of an automatic bar. 
 
 The round, at that very moment, debouched upon
 
 THE SIRE DE MALETROIT S DOOR. 275 
 
 the terrace and proceeded to summon him with shouts 
 and curses. He heard them ferreting in the dark 
 corners; the stock of a lance even rattled along the 
 outer surface of the door behind which he stood ; but 
 these gentlemen were in too high a humor to be long 
 delayed, and soon made off down a corkscrew pathway 
 which had escaped Denis's observation, and passed out 
 of sight and hearing along the battlements of the 
 town. 
 
 Denis breathed again. He gave them a few minutes' 
 grace for fear of accidents, and then groped about for 
 some means of opening the door and slipping forth 
 again. The inner surface was quite smooth, not a 
 handle, not a moulding, not a projection of any sort. 
 He got his finger-nails round the edges and pulled, but 
 the mass was immovable. He shook it, it was as firm 
 as a rock. Denis de Beaulieu frowned and gave vent 
 to a little noiseless whistle. What ailed the door ? he 
 wondered. Why was it open ? How came it to shut so 
 easily and so effectually after him ? There was some- 
 thing obscure and underhand about all this, that was 
 little to the young man's fancy. It looked like a snare, 
 and yet who could suppose a snare in such a quiet 
 by-street and in a house of so prosperous and even 
 noble an exterior ? And yet — snare or no snare, inten- 
 tionally or unintentionally — here he was, prettily 
 trapped ; and for the life of him he could see no way 
 out of it again. The darkness began to weigh upon 
 him. He gave ear ; all was silent without, but within 
 and close by he seemed to catch a faint sighing, a faint 
 sobbing rustle, a little stealthy creak — as though many 
 persons were at his side, holding themselves quite still, 
 and governing even their respiration with the extreme 
 of slyness. The idea went to his vitals with a shock, 
 and he faced about suddenly as if to defend his life. 
 Then, for the first time, he became aware of a light 
 about the level of his eyes and at some distance in the 
 interior of the house— a vertical thread of light, widen- 
 ing towards the bottom, such as might escape between
 
 fj6 ,\7 W ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 two wrings of arris over a doorway. To sec anything 
 was a relief to Denis ; it was like a piece of solid ground 
 to a man laboring in a morass ; his mind seized upon 
 it with avidity; and he stood staring at it and trying 
 to piece together some logical conception of his sur- 
 roundings. Plainly there was a flight of Steps ascend- 
 ing from his own level to that of this illuminated door- 
 way ; and indeed he thought he could make out 
 another thread of light, as fine as a needle and as faint as 
 phosphorescence, which might very well be reflected 
 along the polished wood of a handrail. Since he had 
 begun to suspect that he was not alone, his heart had 
 continued to beat with smothering violence, and an 
 intolerable desire for action of any sort had possessed 
 itself of his spirit. He was in deadly peril, he believed. 
 What could be more natural than to mount the stair- 
 case, lift the curtain, and confront his difficulty at 
 once? At least he would be dealing with something 
 tangible ; at least he would be no longer in the dark. 
 He stepped slowly forward with outstretched hands, 
 until his foot struck the bottom step ; then he rapidly 
 scaled the stairs, stood for a moment to compose his 
 expression, lifted the arras and went in. 
 
 He found himself in a large apartment of pol- 
 ished stone. There were three doors; one on each 
 of three sides; all similarly curtained with tapestry. 
 The fourth side was occupied by two large windows 
 and a great stone chimney-piece, carved with the arms 
 of the Maletroits. I )enis recognized the bearings, and 
 was gratified to find himself in such good hands. The 
 room was strongly illuminated; but it contained little 
 furniture except a heavy table and a chair or two, the 
 hearth was innocent of fire, and the pavement was but 
 sparsely strewn with rushes clearly many days old. 
 
 On a high chair beside the chimney, and directly 
 facing Denis as he entered, sat a little old gentleman 
 in a fur tippet. He sat with his legs crossed and his 
 hands folded, and a cup of spiced wine stood by his 
 elbow on a bracket on the wall. His countenance had
 
 THE SIRE DE MALETROIT S DOOR. 277 
 
 a strongly masculine cast; not properly human, but 
 such as we see in the bull, the goat," or the domestic 
 boar; something equivocal and wheedling, something 
 greedy, brutal, and dangerous. The upper lip was 
 inordinately full, as though swollen by a blow or a 
 toothache; and the smile, the peaked eyebrows, and 
 the small, strong eyes were quaintly and almost comic- 
 ally evil in expression. Beautiful white hair hung 
 straight all round his head, like a saint's, and fell in a 
 single curl upon the tippet. His beard and moustache 
 were the pink of venerable sweetness. Age, probably 
 in consequence of inordinate precautions, had left no 
 mark upon his hands; and the Maletroit hand was 
 famous. It would be difficult to imagine anything at 
 once so fleshy and so delicate in design; the taper, 
 sensual fingers were like those of one of Leonardo's 
 women; the fork of the thumb made a dimpled pro- 
 tuberance when closed; the nails were perfectly shaped, 
 and of a dead, surprising whiteness. It rendered his 
 aspect tenfold more redoubtable, that a man with hands 
 like these should keep them devoutly folded like a 
 virgin martyr — that a man with so intent and startling 
 an expression of face should sit patiently on his seat 
 and contemplate people with an unwinking stare, like 
 a god, or a god's statue. His quiescence seemed iron- 
 ical and treacherous, it fitted so poorly with his looks. 
 
 Such was Alain, Sire de Maletroit. 
 
 Denis and he looked silently at each other for a 
 second or two. 
 
 " Pray step in," said the Sire de Maletroit. " I have 
 been expecting you all the evening." 
 
 He had not risen but he accompanied his words 
 with a smile and a slight but courteous inclination of 
 the head. Partly from the smile, partly from the 
 strange musical murmur with which the Sire prefaced 
 his observation, Denis felt a strong shudder of disgust 
 go through his marrow. And what with disgust and 
 honest confusion of mind, he could scarcely get words 
 together in reply.
 
 I}8 M W ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 " I fear," he said, " that this is a double accident. 1 
 am not the person you suppose me. Itseems you were 
 looking for a visit; but for my part, nothing was fur- 
 ther from my thoughts — nothing could be more con- 
 trary to my wishes— than this intrusion, " 
 
 " Well, well," replied the old gentleman indulgently, 
 "here you are, which is the main point. Seat yourself 
 my friend, and put yourself entirely at your ease. We 
 shall arrange our little affairs presently." 
 
 J >cnis perceived that the matter was still complicated 
 with some misconception, and he hastened to continue 
 his explanations. 
 " Your door . . . ." he began. 
 
 "About my door?" asked the other raising his 
 peaked eyebrows. "A little piece of ingenuity." 
 And he shrugged his shoulders. " A hospitable fancy ! 
 By your own account, you were not desirous of mak- 
 ing my acquaintance. We old people look for such 
 reluctance now and then; when it touches our 
 honor, we cast about until we find some way of over- 
 coming it. You arrive uninvited, but believe me, 
 very welcome. " 
 
 " You persist in error, sir, " said Denis. " There 
 can be no question between you and me. I am a 
 stranger in this countryside. My name is Denis, 
 damoiseau de Beaulieu. If you see me in your house. 
 it is only — 
 
 "My young friend," interrupted the other, "you 
 will permit me to have my own ideas on that subject. 
 They probably differ from yours at the present 
 moment," he added with a leer, "but time will show 
 which of us is in the right." 
 
 1 >< nis was convinced he had to do with a lunatic. 
 He seated himself with a shrug, content to wait the 
 upshot; and a pause ensued, during which he thought 
 he could distinguish a hurried gabbling as of prayer 
 from behind the arras immediately opposite him. 
 Sometimes there seemed to be but one person engaged, 
 sometimes two; and the vehemence of the voice, low
 
 THE SIRE DE MALETROIT'S DOOR. 279 
 
 as it was, seemed to indicate either great haste or an 
 agony of spirit. It occurred to him that this piece of 
 tapestry covered the entrance to the chapel he had 
 noticed from without. 
 
 The old gentleman meanwhile surveyed Denis from 
 head to foot with a smile, and from time to time 
 emitted little noises like a bird or a mouse, which 
 seemed to indicate a high degree of satisfaction. This 
 state of matters became rapidly insupportable; and 
 Denis, to put an end to it, remarked politely that the 
 wind had gone down. 
 
 The old gentleman fell into a fit of silent laughter, 
 so prolonged and violent that he became quite red in 
 the face. Denis got upon his feet at once, and put on 
 his hat with a nourish. 
 
 "Sir," he said, "if you are in your wits, you have 
 affronted me grossly. If you are out of them, I flatter 
 myseif I can find better employment for my brains 
 than to talk with lunatics. My conscience is clear; 
 you have made a fool of me from the first moment; you 
 have refused to hear my explanations; and now there is 
 no power under God will make me stay here any longer; 
 and if I cannot make my way out in a more decent 
 fashion, I will hack your door in pieces with my sword." 
 
 The Sire de Maletroit raised his right hand and 
 wagged it at Denis with the fore and little fingers 
 extended. 
 
 " My dear nephew," he said, " sit down." 
 
 "Nephew!" retorted Denis, "you lie in your 
 throat;" and he snapped his fingers in his face. 
 
 " Sit down, you rogue ! " cried the old gentleman, 
 in a sudden, harsh voice, like the barking of a dog. 
 " Do you fancy," he went on, " that when I had made 
 my little contrivance for the door I had stopped short 
 with that ? If you prefer to be bound hand and foot 
 till youi bones ache, rise and try to go away. If you 
 choose to remain a free young buck, agreeably con- 
 versing with an old gentleman — why, sit where you are 
 in peace, and God be with you."
 
 aSo NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 " Do you mean T am a prisoner?" demanded Denix 
 
 " I state the facts," replied the other. " I would 
 rather leave the conclusion to yourself." 
 
 Denis sat down again. Externally he managed to 
 keep pretty i aim, but within, he was now boiling with 
 •-, now chilled with apprehension. He no longer 
 felt convinced that he was dealing with a madman. 
 And if the old gentleman was sane, what, in God's 
 name, had he to look for? What absurd or tragical 
 adventure had befallen him ? What countenance was 
 he to assume ? 
 
 While he was thus unpleasantly reflecting, the arras 
 that overhung the chapel door was raised, and a tall 
 priest in his robes came forth and, giving a long, keen 
 stare at Denis said something in an undertone to Sire 
 de Maletroit. 
 
 " She is in a better frame of spirit ? " asked the 
 latter. 
 
 "She is more resigned, messire," replied the priest. 
 
 " Now the Lord help her, she is hard to please ! " 
 sneered the old gentleman. "A likely stripling — not 
 ill-born — and of her own choosing, too ? Why, what 
 more would the jade have ?" 
 
 " The situation is not usual for a young damsel." 
 said the other, "and somewhat trying to her blushes." 
 
 "She should have thought of that before she began 
 the dance ? It was none of my choosing, God knows 
 that: but since she is in it, by our lady, she shall carry 
 it to the end." And then addressing Denis, " Monsieur 
 de Beaulieu," he asked, " may I present you to my 
 niece ? She has been waiting your arrival, I may say, 
 with even greater imnatience than myself." 
 
 Denis had resigned himself with a good grace — all 
 he desired was to know the worst of it as speedily as 
 possible; so he rose at once, and bowed in acquies- 
 cence. The Sire de Maletroit followed his example 
 and limped, with the assistance of the chaplain's arm, 
 towards the chapel-door. The priest pulled aside the 
 arras, and all three entered. The building had con'
 
 THE SIRE BE MALETROIT'S DOOR. 281 
 
 siderable architectural pretensions. A light groining 
 sprang from six stout columns, and hung down in two 
 rich pendants from the centre of the vault. The place 
 terminated behind the altar in a round end, embossed 
 and honeycombed with a superfluity of ornament in 
 relief, and pierced by many little windows shaped like 
 stars, trefoils, or wheels. These windows were imper- 
 fectly glazed, so that the night air circulated freely in 
 the chapel. The tapers, of which there must have 
 been half a hundred burning on the altar, were 
 unmercifully blown about; and the light went through 
 many different phases of brilliancy and semi-eclipse. 
 On the steps in front of the altar knelt a young girl 
 richly attired as a bride. A chill settled over Denis as 
 he observed her costume; he fought with desperate 
 energy against the conclusion that was being thrust 
 upon his mind; it could not — it should not — be as he 
 feared. 
 
 "Blanche," said the Sire, in his most flute-like tones, 
 " I have brought a friend to see you, my little girl ; 
 turn round and give him your pretty hand. It is 
 good to be devout ; but it is necessary to be polite my 
 niece." 
 
 The girl rose to her feet and turned toward the now 
 comers. She moved all of a piece ; and shame and 
 exhaustion were expressed in every line of her fresh 
 young body ; and she held her head down and kept 
 her eyes upon the pavement, as she came slowly for- 
 ward. In the course of her advance, her eyes fell upon 
 Denis de Beaulieu's feet — feet of which he was justly 
 vain, be it remarked, and wore in the most elegant 
 accoutrement even while traveling. She paused — 
 started, as if his yellow boots had conveyed some 
 shocking meaning — and glanced suddenly up into the 
 wearer's countenance. Their eyes met ; shame gave 
 place to horror and terror in her looks ; the blood left 
 her lips ; with a piercing scream she covered her 
 face with her hands and sank upon the chapel 
 floor.
 
 >8a HEW ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 "That is not the man!" she cried. "My uncle, 
 that is not the man ! " 
 
 The Sire ile Maletroit chirped agreeably. "Of 
 course not," he said, " 1 expected as much. It was 
 so unfortunate you could not remember his name." 
 
 " Indeed," she cried, "indeed, I have never seen 
 this person till this moment — I have never so much as 
 set eyes upon him — 1 never wish to see him again. 
 Sir," she said, turning to Denis, " if you are a gentle- 
 man, you will bear me out. Have I ever seen you — ■ 
 have you ever seen me — before this accursed hour ? " 
 
 " To speak for myself, I have never had that pleas- 
 ure," answered the young man. "This is the first 
 time, messire, that I have met with your engaging 
 niece." 
 
 The old gentleman shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 "lam distressed to hear it," he said. " But it is 
 never too late to begin. I had little more acquaintance 
 with my own late lady ere I married her ; which 
 proves," he added, with a grimace, " that these 
 impromptu marriages may often produce an excellent 
 understanding in the long run. As the bridegroom is 
 to have a voice in the matter, I will give him two hours 
 to make up for lost time before we proceed with the 
 ceremony." And he turned toward the door, followed 
 by the clergyman. 
 
 The girl was on her feet in a moment. " My uncle, 
 you cannot be in earnest," she said. " I declare before 
 God I will stab myself rather than be forced on that 
 young man. The heart rises at it ; God forbids such 
 marriages; you dishonor your white hair. Oh, my uncle, 
 pity me ! There is not a woman in all the world but 
 would prefer death to such a nuptial. Is it possible," 
 she added, faltering — " is it possible that you do not 
 believe me — that you still think this " — and she pointed 
 at Denis with a tremor of anger and contempt — "that 
 you still think this to be the man ?" 
 
 " Frankly," said the old gentleman, pausing on the 
 threshold, " I do. But let me explain to you once for
 
 THE SIRE DE MALETRO.ITS DOOR. 283 
 
 all, Blanche de Maletroit, my way of thinking about 
 this affair. When you took it into your head to dishonor 
 my family and the name that I have borne, in peace 
 and war, for more than three-score years, you forfeited, 
 not only the right to question my designs, but that of 
 looking me in the face. If your father had been alive, 
 he would have spat on you and turned you out of 
 doors. His was the hand of iron. You may bless 
 your God you have only to deal with the hand of vel- 
 ret, mademoiselle. It was my duty to get you married 
 without delay. Out of pure good-will, I have tried to 
 find your own gallant for you. And I believe I have 
 succeeded. But before God and all the holy angels, 
 Blanche de Maletroit, if I have not, I care not one 
 jack-straw. So let me recommend you to be polite to 
 our young friend ; for upon my word, your next groom 
 may be less appetizing " 
 
 And with that he went out, with the chaplain at his 
 heels ; and the arras fell behind the pair. 
 
 The girl turned upon Denis with flashing eyes. 
 
 " And what, sir," she demanded, " may be the mean- 
 ing of all this ? " 
 
 " God knows," returned Denis, gloomily. *' I am 3 
 prisoner in this house, which seems full of mad people. 
 More I know not ; and nothing do I understand- " 
 
 " And pray how came you here," she asked. 
 
 He told her as briefly'as he could. " For the rest " 
 he added, "perhaps you will follow my example, and 
 tell me the answer to all these riddles, and what, in 
 God's name, is like to be the end of it." 
 
 She stood silent for a little, and he could see h^r 
 lips tremble and her tearless eyes burn with a feverish 
 lustre. Then she pressed her forehead in both hands. 
 
 " Alas, how my head aches ! " she said wearily — "' lo 
 say nothing of my poor heart ! But it is due to you to 
 know my story, unmaidenly as it must seem. I am 
 called Blanche de Maletroit ; I have been without 
 father or mother for — oh! for as long as I can recol- 
 lect, and indeed I have been most unhappy all my life
 
 184 NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 Three months ago a young captain began to stand 
 near me every day m church. I could see that I 
 I i d him ; I am much to blame, bul I was so glad 
 that anyone should love mi ; and when he passed 
 me a letter, ! took it home with me and read it with 
 • pleasure, since that time he has written many. 
 He was so anxious to speak with me, poor fellow ! and 
 kept asking me to leave the door open some evening 
 that we might have two words upon the stair. For he 
 knew how much my uncle trusted me." She gave 
 something like a sob at that, and it was a moment 
 before she could go on. "My uncle is a hard man, 
 but he is very shrewd,*' she said at last. " He has 
 performed many feats in war, and was a great person 
 at court, and much trusted by Queen Isabeau in old 
 days. How he came to suspect me I cannot tell ; but 
 it is hard to keep anything from his knowledge ; and 
 this morning, as we came from mass, he took my hand 
 into his, forced it open, and read my little billet, walk- 
 ing by my side all the while. When he finished, he 
 gave it back to me with great politeness. It con- 
 tained another request to have the door left open ; and 
 this has been the ruin of us all. My uncle kept me 
 strictly in my room until evening, and then ordered me 
 to dre'ss myself as you see me — a hard mockery for a 
 young girl, do you not think so ? I suppose, when he 
 could not prevail with me to tell him the young cap- 
 tain's name, he must have laid a trap for him : into 
 which, alas ! you have fallen in the anger of God. I 
 looked for much confusion ; for how could I tell 
 whether he was willing to take me for his wife on these 
 sharp terms? He might have been trifling with me 
 from the first ; or I might have made myself too cheap 
 in his eyes. But truly I had not looked for such a 
 shameful punishment as this ! I could not think that 
 God would let a girl be so disgraced before a young 
 man. And now 1 tell you all; and I can scarcely hope 
 that you will not despise me. " 
 
 Denis made her a respectful inclination.
 
 THE SIRE DE MALETROIT'S DOOR. 285 
 
 " Madam," he said, " you have honored me by your 
 confidence. It remains for me to prove that I am 
 not unworthy of the honor. Is Messire de Maletroit 
 at hand ? " 
 
 " I believe he is writing in the salle without," she 
 answered. 
 
 " May I lead you thither, madam ?" asked Denis, 
 offering his hand with his most courtly bearing. 
 
 She accepted it ; and the pair passed out of the 
 chapel, Blanche in a very drooping and shamefast con- 
 dition, but Dennis strutting and ruffling in the con- 
 sciousness of a mission, and the boyish certainty of 
 accomplishing it with honor. 
 
 The Sire de Maletroit rose to meet them with an 
 ironical obeisance. 
 
 "Sir," said Denis, with the grandest possible air, "I 
 believe I am to have some say in the matter of this 
 marriage ; and let me tell you at once, I will be no 
 party to forcing the inclination of this younglady. Had it 
 been freely offered to me, I should have been proud 
 to accept her hand, for I perceive she is as good as 
 she is beautiful ; but as things are, I have now the 
 honor, messire, of refusing." 
 
 Blanche looked at him with gratitude in her eyes ; 
 but the old gentleman only smiled and smiled, until his 
 smile grew positively sickening to Denis. 
 
 " I am afraid," he said, " Monsieur de Beaulieu, 
 that you do not perfectly understand the choice I have 
 offered you. Follow me, I beseech you, to this win- 
 dow." And he led the way to one of the large win- 
 dows which stood open on the night. "You observe," 
 he went on, " tlr;re is an iron ring in the upper 
 masonry, and reeved through that, a very efficacious 
 rope. Now, mark my words: if you should find your 
 disinclination to my niece's person insurmountable, I 
 shall have you hanged out of this window before sun- 
 rise. I shall only proceed to such an extremity with 
 the greatest regret, you may believe me. For it is not 
 at all your death that I desire, but my niece's estab-
 
 186 NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 lishment in life. At the same time, it must come to 
 that if you prove obstinate. Your family, Monsieur 
 d Beaulieu, is very well in its way; but if you sprang 
 from Charlemagne, you should not refuse the hand oi 
 a Maletroit with impunity — not if she had beenascom- 
 moii as the Paris road — not if she were as hideous as 
 the gargoyle over my door. Neither my niece nor you, 
 nor my own private feelings, move me at all in this 
 matter. The honor of my house has been compro- 
 mised ; I believe you to be the guilty person, 
 at least you are now in the secret ; and you 
 can hardly wonder if I request you to wipe out the 
 stain. If you will not, your blood be on your own 
 head ! It will be no great satisfaction to me to have 
 your interesting relics kicking their heels in the breeze 
 below my windows, but half a loaf is better than no 
 bread, and if I cannot cure the dishonor, I shall at 
 least stop the scandal." 
 
 There was a pause. 
 
 " I believe there are other ways of settling such 
 imbroglios among gentlemen," said Denis. " You wear a 
 sword, and I hear you have used it with distinction." 
 
 The Sire de Maletroit made a signal to the chaplain, 
 who crossed the room with long silent strides and raised 
 the arras over the third of the three doors. It was only 
 a moment before he let it fall again ; but Denis had 
 time to see a dusky passage full of armed men. 
 
 " When I was a little younger, I should have been 
 delighted to honor you, Monsieur de Beaulieu," said 
 Sire Alain ; " but I am now too old. Faithful retainers 
 are the sinews of age, and I must employ the strength I 
 have. This is one of the hardest things to swallow as a 
 man grows up in years ; but with a little patience, even 
 this becomes habitual. You and the lady seem to 
 prefer the salle for what remains of your two hours ; 
 and as I have no desire to cross your preference, I shall 
 resign it to your use with all the pleasure in the world. 
 No haste ! " he added, holding up his hand, as he saw 
 a dangerous look come into Denis de Beaulieu's face.
 
 THE SIRE DE MALETROIT'S DOOR. 287 
 
 u If your mind revolt against hanging, it will be time 
 enough two hours hence to throw yourself out of the 
 window or upon the pikes of my retainers. Two hours 
 of life are always two hours. A great many things 
 may turn up in even as little a while as that. And, 
 besides, if I understand her appearance, my niece has 
 something to say to you. You will not disfigure your 
 last hours by a want of politeness to a lady ? " 
 
 Denis looked at Blanche, and she made him an 
 imploring gesture. 
 
 It is likely that the old gentleman was hugely pleased 
 at this symptom of an understanding ; for he smiled on 
 both, and added sweetly : " If you will give me your 
 word of honor, Monsieur de Beaulieu, to await my 
 return at the end of the two hours before attempting 
 anything desperate, I shall withdraw my retainers, and 
 let you speak in greater privacy with mademoiselle." 
 
 Denis again glanced at the girl, who seemed to 
 beseech him to agree. 
 
 " I give you my word of honor," he said. 
 
 Messire de Maletroit bowed, and proceeded to limp 
 about the apartment, clearing his throat the while with 
 that odd musical chirp which had already grown so 
 irritating in the ears of Denis de Beaulieu. He first 
 possessed himself of some papers which lay upon the 
 table ; then he went to the mouth of the passage and 
 appeared to give an order to the men behind the arras ; 
 and lastly he hobbled out through the door by which 
 Denis had come in, turning upon the threshold to 
 address a last smiling bow to the young couple, and 
 followed by the chaplain with a hand-lamp. 
 
 No sooner were they alone than Blanche advanced 
 towards Denis with her hands extended. Her face was 
 flushed and excited, and her eyes shone with tears. 
 
 " You shall not die ! " she cried, " you shall marry 
 me after all." 
 
 "You seem to think, madam," replied Denis, "that 
 I stand much in fear of death." 
 
 " Oh, no, no," she said, "I see you are no poltroon.
 
 r8S NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 It is for my own sake— I could not bear to have you 
 slain for such a scruple." 
 
 " 1 am afraid," returned Denis, " that you underrate 
 the difficulty, madam. What you may be too generous 
 
 to refuse, 1 may he too proud to accept. In a moment 
 of noble feeling towards me, you forgot what you per- 
 haps owe to others." 
 
 He had the decency to keep his eyes on the floor as 
 he said this, and after he had finished, so as not to 
 spy upon her confusion. She stood silent foramoment, 
 then walked suddenly away, and falling on her uncle's 
 chair, fairly burst out sobbing. Uenis was in the acme 
 of embarrassment. lie looked round, as if to seek for 
 inspiration, and seeing a stool, plumped down upon it 
 for something to do. There he sat playing with the 
 guard of his rapier, and wishing himself dead a thousand 
 times over, and buried in the nastiest kitchen-heap in 
 France. His eyes wandered round the apartment, but 
 found nothing to arrest them. There were such wide 
 spaces between the furniture, the light fell so badly and 
 cheerlessly over all, the dark outside air looked in so 
 coldly through the windows, that he thought he had 
 never seen a church so vast, nor a tomb so melancholy. 
 The regular sobs of Blanche de Maletroit measured out 
 the time like the ticking of a clock. He read the 
 device upon the shield over and over again, until his 
 eyes became obscured ; he stared into shadowy corners 
 until he imagined they were swarming with horrible 
 animals ; and every now and again he awoke with a 
 start, to remember that his last two hours were running, 
 and death was on the march. 
 
 Oftener and oftener, as the time went on, did his 
 glance settle on the girl herself. Her face was bowed 
 forward and covered with her hands, and she was 
 shaken at intervals by the convulsive hiccup of grief. 
 Even thus she was not an unpleasant object to dwell 
 upon, so plump and yet so fine, with a warm brown 
 skin, and the most beautiful hair, Denis thought, in 
 the whole world of womankind. Her hands were like
 
 THE SIRE DE MALETROIT'S DOOR. 289 
 
 her uncle's : but they were more in place at the end of 
 her young arms, and looked infinitely soft and caress- 
 ing. He remembered how her blue eyes had shone 
 upon him, full of anger, pity, and innocence. And the 
 more he dwelt on her perfections, the uglier death 
 looked, and the more deeply was he smitten with peni- 
 tence at her continued tears. Now he felt that no 
 man could have the courage to leave a world which 
 contained so beautiful a creature ; and now he would 
 have given forty minutes of his last hour to have unsaid 
 his cruel speech. 
 
 Suddenly a hoarse and ragged peal of cockcrow 
 rose to their ears from the dark valley below the win- 
 dows. And this shattering noise in the silence of all 
 around was like a light in a dark place, and shook 
 them both out of their reflections. 
 
 " Alas, can I do nothing to help you ?" she said, 
 looking up. 
 
 '' Madam," replied Denis, with a fine irrelevancy, 
 " if I have said anything to wound you, believe me, it 
 was for your own sake and not for mine." 
 
 She thanked him with a tearful look. 
 
 " I feel your position cruelly," he went on. " The 
 world has been bitter hard on you. Your uncle is a 
 disgrace to mankind. Believe me, madam, there is no 
 young gentleman in all France but would be glad of 
 my opportunity, to die in doing you a momentary ser- 
 vice." 
 
 "I know already that you can be very brave and 
 generous," she answered. " What I want to know is 
 whether I can serve you — now or afterwards," she 
 added, with a quaver. 
 
 " Most certainly," he answered with a smile. " Let 
 me sit beside you as if I were a friend, instead of a 
 foolish intruder ; try to forget how awkwardly we are 
 placed to one another ; make my last moments go 
 pleasantly ; and you will do me the chief service pos- 
 sible." 
 
 " You are very gallant," she added, with a yet
 
 290 NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 deeper sadness "very gallant and it 
 
 sora :how pains me. But draw nearer, if you pl< 
 and it' you find anything to say to me, you will at least 
 make certain of a very friendly listener. Ah! Monsieur 
 de Beaulieu," she broke forth — "ah! Monsieur de 
 Beaulieu, how can I look you in the face?" And she 
 > again with a renewed effusion. 
 
 " Madam," said Denis, taking her hand in both of 
 Ids, " reflect on the little time 1 have before me, and 
 _reat bitterness into which 1 am cast by the sight 
 of your distress. Spare me, in my last moments, the 
 spectacle of what I cannot cure even with the sacrifice 
 of my life." 
 
 " I am very selfish," answered Blanche. " I will be 
 braver, Monsieur de beaulieu, for your sake, but 
 think if I can do you no kindness in the future — if 
 you have no friends to whom I could carry your 
 adieux. Charge me as heavily as you can ; every bur- 
 den will lighten, by so little, the invaluable gratitude I 
 owe you. Pit it in my power to do something more 
 for you than weep." 
 
 " My mother is married again, and has a young 
 family to care for. My brother Guichard will inherit 
 my fiefs; and if I am not in error, that will content 
 him amply for my death. Life is a little vapor that 
 passeth away, as we are told by those in holy orders. 
 When a man is in a fair way and sees all life open in 
 front of him, he seems to himself to make a very impor- 
 tant figure in the woild. His horse whinnies to him; 
 the trumpets blow and the girls look out of window as 
 he rides into town before his company; he receives 
 many assurances of trust and regard — sometimes by 
 express in a letter — sometimes face to face, with per- 
 sons of great consequence falling on his neck. It is 
 not wonderful if his head is turned for a time. But 
 once he is dead, were he as brave as Hercules or as 
 wise as Solomon, he is soon forgotten. It is not tin 
 years since my father fell, with many other kni-hts 
 around him, in a very fierce encounter, and I do not
 
 THE SIRE DE MALETROITS DOOR. 29I 
 
 think that any one of them, nor so much as the name 
 of the fight, is now remembered. No, no, madam, 
 the nearer you come to it, you see that death is a 
 dark and dusty corner, where a man gets into his 
 tomb and has the door shut after him till the judgment 
 day. I have few friends just now, and once I am 
 dead I shall have none." 
 
 " Ah, Monsieur de Beaulieu !" she exclaimed, "you 
 forget Blanche de Maletroit." 
 
 " You have a sweet nature, madam, and you are 
 pleased to estimate a little service far beyond its 
 worth." 
 
 " It is not that," she answered. " You mistake me 
 if you think I am easily touched by my own concerns. 
 I say so, because you are the noblest man I have ever 
 met ; because I recognize in you a spirit that would 
 have made even a common person famous in the land." 
 " And yet here I die in a mousetrap — with no more 
 noise about it than my own squeaking," answered he. 
 
 A look of pain crossed her face, and she was silent 
 for a little while. Then a light came into her eyes, 
 and with a smile she spoke again. 
 
 " I cannot have my champion think meanly of him- 
 self. Anyone who gives his life for another will be 
 met in Paradise by all the heralds and angels of the 
 Lord God. And you have no such cause to hang 
 your head. For .... Pray, do you think me beau- 
 tiful ? " she asked, with a deep flush. 
 " Indeed, madam, I do," he said. 
 " I am glad of that," she answered heartily. " Do 
 you think there are many men in France who have 
 been asked in marriage by a beautiful maiden — with 
 her own lips — and who have refused her to her face ? 
 I know you men would half despise such a triumph ; 
 but believe me, we women know more of what is pre- 
 cious in love. There is nothing that should set a person 
 higher in his own esteem ; and we women would prize 
 nothing more dearly." 
 
 "You are very good," he said; "but you cannot
 
 2()2 W ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 make me forget that I was asked in pity and not for 
 
 "I am not so sure of that," she replied, holding 
 down her head. "Hear me to an end, Monsieur de 
 lieu. I know how you mu t despise me; 1 feel 
 you are right to do so; I poor a creature to 
 
 o< cupy one thougl • r mind, although, ala i ! you 
 
 must die for me this morning. But when 1 asked you 
 to marry me, indeed, and indeed, it was because I 
 respected and admired you, and loved you with my 
 whole soul, from the very moment that you took my 
 part against my uncle. If you had seen yourself, and 
 how noble you looked, you would pity rather than 
 despise me. And now," she went on, hurriedly check- 
 ing him with her hand, "although I have laid aside all 
 reserve and told you so much, remember that I know 
 your sentiments towards me already. I would not, 
 believe me, being nobly born, weary you with impor- 
 tunities into consent. I too have a pride of my own : 
 and I declare before the holy mother of God, if you 
 should now go back from your word already given, I 
 would no more marry you than I would marry my 
 uncle's groom." 
 
 Denis smiled a little bitterly. 
 
 "It is a small love," he said, "that shies at a little 
 pride." 
 
 She made no answer, although she probably had her 
 own thoughts. 
 
 "Come hither to the window,"*he said with a sigh. 
 " Here is the dawn." 
 
 And indeed the dawn was already beginning. The 
 hollow of the sky was full of essential daylight, color- 
 and (lean ; and the valley underneath was flooded 
 with a gray reflection. A few thin vapors clung in the 
 coves of the forest or lay along the winding course of 
 the river. The scene disengaged a surprising effect of 
 stillness, which was hardly interrupted when the cocks 
 began once more to crow among the steadings. Per- 
 haps the same fellow who had made so horrid a clangor
 
 THE SIRE DE MALETROIT'S DOOR. 2133 
 
 in the darkness not half an hour before, now sent up the 
 merriest cheer to greet the coming day. A little wind 
 went bustling and eddying among the tree-tops under- 
 neath the windows. And still the daylight kept flood- 
 ing insensibly out of the east, which was soon to grow 
 incandescent and cast up that red-hot cannon-ball, the 
 rising sun. 
 
 Denis looked out over all this with a bit of a shiver. 
 He had taken her hand, and retained it in his almost 
 unconsciously. 
 
 " Has the day begun already ? " she said ; and then, 
 illogically enough : " the night has been so long ! 
 Alas ! what shall we say to my uncle when he returns ? " 
 
 "What you will," said Denis, and he pressed her fin- 
 gers in his. 
 
 She was silent. 
 
 " Blanche," he said, with a swift, uncertain, passion- 
 ate utterance, " you have seen whether I fear death.. 
 You must know well enough that I would as gladly 
 leap out of that window into the empty air as to lay a 
 finger on you without your free and full consent. But 
 if you care for me at all do not let me lose my life in a 
 misapprehension ; for I love you better than the whole 
 world ; and though I will die for you blithely, it would 
 be like all the joys of Paradise to live on and spend my 
 life in your service." 
 
 As he stopped speaking, a bell began to ring loudly 
 in the interior of the house ; and a clatter of armor in 
 the corridor showed that the retainers were returning 
 to their post, and the two hours were at an end. 
 
 " After all that you have heard ? " she whispered, 
 leaning towards him with her lips and eyes. 
 
 " I have heard nothing," he replied. 
 
 "The captain's name was Florimond de Champ- 
 divers," she said in his ear. 
 
 "I did not hear it," he answered, taking her supple 
 body in his arms, and covered her wet face with kisses. 
 
 A melodious chirping was audible behind, followed 
 by a beautiful chuckle, and the voice of Messire de 
 Maletroit wished his new nephew a good morning.
 
 PROVIDENCE AND THE GUITAR.
 
 PROVIDENCE AND THE GUITAR. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 MONSIEUR LEON BERTHELINI had a great 
 care of his appearance, and sedulously suited 
 his deportment to the costume of the hour. He 
 affected something Spanish in his air, and something 
 of the bandit, with a flavor of Rembrandt at home 
 In person he was decidedly small and inclined to be 
 stout ; his face was the picture of good humor ; his 
 dark eyes, which were very expressive, told of a kind 
 heart, a brisk, merry nature, and the most indefatigable 
 spirits. If he had worn the clothes of the period you 
 would have set him down for a hitherto undiscovered 
 hybrid between the barber, the innkeeper, and the 
 affable dispensing chemist. But in the outrageous 
 bravery of velvet jacket and flapped hat, with trousers 
 that were more accurately described as fleshings, a 
 white handkerchief cavalierly knotted at his neck, a 
 shock of Olympian curls upon his brow, and his feet 
 shod through all weathers in the slenderest of Moliere 
 shoes — you had but to look at him and you knew you 
 were in the presence of a Great Creature. When he 
 wore an overcoat he scorned to pass the sleeves ; a 
 single button held it round his shoulders ; it was 
 tossed backwards after the manner of a cloak, and 
 carried with the gait and presence of an Almaviva. I 
 am of opinion that M. Berthelini was nearing forty. 
 But he had a boy's heart, gloried in his finery, and 
 walked through life like a child in a perpetual dramatic 
 performance. If he were not Almaviva after all, it 
 was not for lack of making believe. And he enjoyed 
 the artist's compensation. If he were not really 
 297
 
 398 NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 Almaviva, he was sometimes just as happy as though 
 he were. 
 
 I have seen him, at moments when he has fancied 
 himself alone with his Maker, adopt so gay and 
 chivalrous a bearing, and represent his own part with 
 so much warmth and conscience, that the illusion 
 became catching, and I believed implicitly in the Great 
 Creature's pose. 
 
 But, alas ! life cannot be entirely conducted on 
 these principles ; man cannot live by Almavivery 
 alone ; and the Great Creature, having failed upon 
 several theatres, was obliged to step down every even- 
 ing from his heights, and sing from half-a-dozcn to a 
 dozen comic songs, twang a guitar, keep a country 
 audience in good humor, and preside finally over the 
 mysteries of a tombola. 
 
 Madame Berthelini, who was art and part with him 
 in these undignified labors, had perhaps a higher posi- 
 tion in the scale of beings, and enjoyed a natural dig- 
 nity of her own. But her heart was not any more 
 rightly placed, for that would have been impossible; 
 and she had acquired a little air of melancholy, attrac- 
 tive enough in its way, but not good to see like the 
 wholesome, sky-scraping, boyish spirits of her lord. 
 
 He, indeed, swam like a kite on a fair wind, high 
 above earthly troubles. Detonations of temper were 
 not unfrequent in the zones he traveled; but sulky 
 fogs and tearful depressions were there alike unknown. 
 A well-delivered blow upon a table, or a noble attitude, 
 imitated from Melingue or Frederic, relieved his irri- 
 tation like a vengeance. Though the heaven had fal- 
 len, if he had played his part with propriety, Berthelini 
 had been content ! And the man's atmosphere, if not 
 his example, reacted on his wife; for the couple doted 
 on each other, and although you would have thought 
 they walked in different worlds, yet continued to walk 
 hand in hand. 
 
 It chanced one day that Monsieur and Madame 
 Berthelini descended with two boxes and a guitar in a
 
 PROVIDENCE AND THE GUITAR. 299 
 
 fat case at the station of the little town of Castel-le- 
 Gachis, and the omnibus carried them with their 
 effects to the Hotel of the Black Head. This was a 
 dismal, conventual building in a narrow street, capable 
 of standing siege when once the gates were shut, and 
 smelling strangely in the interior of straw and choco- 
 late and old feminine apparel. Berthelini paused 
 upon the threshold with a painful premonition. In 
 some former state, it seemed to him, he had visited a 
 hostelry that smelt not otherwise, and been ill received. 
 
 The landlord, a tragic person in a large felt hat, 
 rose from a business table under the key-rack, and 
 came forward, removing his hat with both hands as he 
 did so. 
 
 " Sir, I salute you. May I inquire what is your 
 charge for artists?" inquired Berthelini, with a cour- 
 tesy at once splendid and insinuating. 
 
 " For artists ? " said the landlord. His countenance 
 fell and the smile of welcome disappeared. " Oh, 
 artists ! " he added, brutally; " four francs a day." 
 And he turned his back upon these inconsiderable 
 customers. 
 
 A commercial traveler is received, he also, upon a 
 reduction — yet is he welcome, yet can he command 
 the fatted calf; but an artist, had he the manners of 
 an Almaviva, were he dressed like Solomon in all his 
 glory, is received like a dog and served like a timid 
 lady traveling alone. 
 
 Accustomed as he was to the rubs of his profession, 
 Berthelini was unpleasantly affected by the landlord's 
 manner. 
 
 " Elvira," said he to his wife, "mark my words: 
 Castel-le-Gachis is a tragic folly." 
 
 " Wait till we see what we take," replied Elvira. 
 
 "We shall take nothing," returned Berthelini; "we 
 shall feed upon insults. I have an eye, Elvira; I have 
 a spirit of divination; and this place is accursed. The 
 landlord has been discourteous, the Commissary will 
 be brutal, the audience will be sordid and uproarious,
 
 300 NI "' ARABIAN NIGHTS, 
 
 and you will take a cold upon your throat. We have 
 been besotted enough lo come; the die is cast — it will 
 be .1 m ( ond Sedan." 
 
 Sedan was a town hateful to the Berthelinis, not 
 only from patriotism (for they were French, ami 
 answered after the iksli to the somewhat homely name 
 of Duval), but because it had been the scene of their 
 most sad reverses. In that place they had lain three 
 weeks in pawn for their hotel bill, and had it not been 
 for a surprising stroke of fortune they might have been 
 lying there in pawn until this day. To mention the 
 name of Sedan was for the Berthelinis to dip the brush 
 in earthquake and eclipse. Count Almaviva slouched 
 his hat with a gesture expressive of despair, and even 
 Elvira felt as if ill-fortune had been personally invoked. 
 
 " Let us ask for breakfast," said she, with a woman's 
 tact. 
 
 The Commissary of Police of Castel-le-Gachis was 
 a large red Commissary, pimpled, and subject to a 
 strong cutaneous transpiration. I have repeated the 
 name of his office because he was so very much more 
 a Commissary than a man. The spirit of his dignity 
 had entered into him. He carried his corporation as 
 if it were something official. Whenever he insulted 
 a common citizen it seemed to him as if he were 
 adroitly flattering the Government by a side wind; in 
 default of dignity he was brutal from an over-weening 
 sense of duty. His office was a den, whence passers- 
 by could hear rude accents laying down, not the law, 
 but the good pleasure of the Commissary. 
 
 Six: several times in the course of the day did M. 
 Berthelini hurry thither in quest of the requisite per- 
 mission for his evening's entertainment; six several 
 times he found the official was abroad. Leon Berthe- 
 lini began to grow quite a familiar figure in the streets 
 of Castel-le-Gachis; he became a local celebrity, and 
 was pointed out as " the man who was looking for the 
 Commissary." Idle children attached themselves to 
 his footsteps, and trotted after him back and forward
 
 PROVIDENCE AND THE GUITAR. 301 
 
 between the hotel and the office. Leon might try as 
 he liked; he might roll cigarettes, he might straddle, 
 he might cock his hat at a dozen different jaunty 
 inclinations — the part of Almaviva was, under the 
 circumstances, difficult to play. 
 
 As he passed the market-place upon the seventh 
 excursion the Commissary was pointed out to him, 
 where he stood, with his waistcoat unbuttoned and his 
 hands behind his back, to superintend the sale and 
 measurement of butter. Berthelini thieaded his way 
 through the market stalls and baskets, and accosted the 
 dignitary with a bow which was a triumph of the 
 histrionic art. 
 
 " I have the honor,*' he asked, '* of meeting M. le 
 Commissaire ? " 
 
 The Commissary was affected by the nobility of his 
 address. He excelled Leon in the depth if not in the 
 airy grace of his salutation. 
 
 " The honor," said he, " is mine ! " 
 
 "I am," continued the strolling-player, "I am, sir, 
 an artist, and I have permitted myself to interrupt you 
 on an affair of business. To-night I give a trifling 
 musical entertainment at the caf6 of the Triumphs of 
 the Plough — permit me to offer you this little pro- 
 gramme — and I have come to ask you for the necessary 
 authorization." 
 
 At the word " artist," the Commissary had replaced 
 his hat with the air of a person who, having conde- 
 scended too far, should suddenly remember the duties 
 of his rank. 
 
 "(In, go," said he, "I am busy — I am measuring 
 butter." 
 
 "Heathen Jew!" thought Leon. "Permit me, 
 sir," he resumed, aloud. " I have gone six times 
 already " 
 
 "Put up your lulls if you choose," interrupted 
 the Commissary. "In an hour or so I will exam 
 ine your papers at the office. But now go : I am 
 busy."
 
 3 o 2 NEW ARABIAN NIGH TS. 
 
 "Measuring butter?* 1 thought Berthelint "Oh, 
 France, and it is for this thai we made '93 ! " 
 
 The preparations were soon made; the bills posted, 
 programmes laid on the dinner-table of every hotel in 
 the town, and a stage erected at one end of the Cafe 
 the Triumphs of the Plough; but when Leon 
 returned to the office, the Commissary was once more 
 abrond. 
 
 "lie is like Madame Benoiton," thought Leon, 
 " Fichu Commissaire ! " 
 
 And just then he met the man face to face. 
 
 " Here, sir," said he, " are my papers. Will you be 
 pleased to verify ?" 
 
 But the Commissary was now intent upon dinner. 
 
 " No use," he replied, "no us:; I am busy; I am 
 quite satisfied. Give your entertainment." 
 
 And he hurried on. 
 
 " Fichu Commissaire ! " thought Leon.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 The audience was pretty large; and the proprietor 
 of the cafe made a good thing of it in beer. But the 
 Berthelinis exerted themselves in vain. 
 
 Leon was radiant in velveteen; he had a rakish way 
 of smoking a cigarette between his songs that was 
 worth, money in itself; he underlined his comic points, 
 so that the dullest numskull in Castel-le-Gachis had a 
 notion when to laugh; and he handled his guitar in a 
 manner worthy of himself. Indeed his play with that 
 instrument was as good as a whole romantic drama; it 
 was so dashing, so florid, and so cavalier. 
 
 Elvira, on the other hand, sang her patriotic and 
 romantic songs with more than usual expression; her 
 voice had charm and plangency; and as Leon looked 
 at her, in her low-bodied maroon dress, with her arms 
 bare to the shoulder, and a red flower set provocatively 
 in her corset, he repeated to himself for the many hun- 
 dredth time that she was one of the loveliest creatures 
 in the world of women. 
 
 Alas ! when she went round with the tambourine, 
 the golden youth of Castel-le-Gachis turned from her 
 coldly. Here and there a single halfpenny was forth- 
 coming ; the net result of a collection never exceeded 
 half a franc ; and the Maire himself, after seven differ- 
 ent applications, had contributed exactly twopence. A 
 certain chill began to settle upon the artists themselves ; 
 it seemed as if they were singing to slugs; Apollo him- 
 self might have lost heart with such an ;uidience. The 
 Berthelinis struggled against the impression ; they put 
 their back into their work, they sang loud and louder, 
 the guitar twanged like a living thing; and at last Leon 
 arose in his might, and burst with inimitable conviction 
 into his great song, "Y a des honnites gens partout /" 
 Never had he given more proof of his artistic mastery; 
 3°3
 
 304 NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 it was his intimate, indefeasible conviction that Castel* 
 le-G&chis formed an exception to the law he was now 
 lyrically proclaiming, and was peopled exclusively by 
 
 thieves ami bullies; and yet, as I say, he flung it down 
 like a challenge, he trolled it forth like an article of 
 faith ; and his face so beamed the while that you would 
 have thought he must make converts of the benches. 
 
 He was at the top of his register, with his head 
 thrown hack and his mouth open, when the dooi was 
 thrown violently open, and a pair of new comers 
 marched noisily into the cafe. It was the Commissary, 
 followed by the Garde Champetre. 
 
 The undaunted Berthelini still continued to proclaim, 
 '' Y a des honnetes gens partout ! " But now the sen- 
 timent produced an audible titter among the audience. 
 Berthelini wondered why ; he did not know the ante- 
 cedents of the Garde Champetre ; he had never heard 
 of a little story about postage stamps. But the public 
 knew all about the postage stamps, and enjoyed the 
 coincidence hugely. 
 
 The Commissary planted himself upon a vacant chair 
 with somewhat the air of Cromwell visiting the Rump ; 
 and spoke in occasional whispers to the Garde Cham- 
 petre, who remained respectfully standing at his back. 
 The eyes of both were directed upon Berthelini, who 
 persisted in his statement. 
 
 " V a des honnetes gens partout," he was just chant- 
 ing for the twentieth time; when up got the Commissary 
 upon his feet and waved brutally to the singer with his 
 cane. 
 
 "Is it me you want ?" inquired Leon, stopping in 
 his song. 
 
 It is you," replied the potentate. 
 
 " Fichu Commissaire ! " thought Leon, and he 
 descended from the stage and made his way to the 
 functionary. 
 
 " How does it happen, sir," said the Commissary, 
 swelling in person, "that I find you mountebanking 
 in a public cafe without my permission ?"
 
 PROVIDENCE AND THE GUITAR. 305 
 
 " Without ? " cried the indignant Leon. " Permit 
 me to remind you " 
 
 " Come, come, sir ! " said the Commissary, " I desire 
 no explanations." 
 
 " I care nothing about what you desire," returned 
 the singer. " I choose to give them, and I will not be 
 gagged. I am an artist, sir, a distinction that you 
 cannot comprehend. Ireceived your permission and 
 stand here upon the strength of it ; interfere with me 
 who dare." 
 
 " You have not got my signature, I tell you," cried 
 the Commissary. " Show me my signature ! Where 
 is my signature ? " 
 
 That was just the question; where was his signature ? 
 Leon recognized that he was in a hole ; bat his spirit 
 rose with the occasion, and he blustered nobly, tossing 
 back his curls. The Commissary played up to him in 
 the character of tyrant ; and as the one leaned farther 
 forward, the other leaned farther back — majesty con- 
 fronting fury. The audience had transferred their 
 attention to this new performance, and listened with 
 that silent gravity common to all Frenchmen in the 
 neighborhood of the police. Elvira had sat down, she 
 was used to these distractions, and it was rather melan- 
 choly than fear that now oppressed her. 
 
 "Another word," cried the Commissary, "and I 
 arrest you." 
 
 " Arrest me ! " shouted Leon. " I defy you ! " 
 
 " I am the Commissary of Police," said the official. 
 
 Leon commanded his feelings, and replied, with 
 great delicacy of innuendo — 
 
 " So it would appear." 
 
 The point was too refined for Castel-le-Gachis ; it 
 did not raise a smile ; and as for the Commissary, he 
 simply bade the singer follow him to his office, and 
 directed his proud footsteps towards the door. There 
 was nothing for it but to obey. Leon did so with a 
 proper pantomime of indifference, but it was a leek to 
 eat, and there was no denying it.
 
 306 NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS, 
 
 The Maire had si i j >{ >(.-< 1 out and was already waiting 
 at the Commissary's door. Now the Maire, in France, 
 is the refuge of the oppressed. He stands between his 
 people and the boisterous rigors of the Police. He can 
 
 sometimes understand what is said to him ; he is not 
 always puffed up beyond measure by his dignity. Tis 
 a thing worth the knowledge of travelers. When all 
 seems over, and a man has made up his mind to injus- 
 tice, he has still, like the heroes of romance, a little 
 bugle at his belt whereon to blow ; and the Maire, a 
 comfortable dfits ex mac/iina, may still descend to 
 deliver him from the minions of the law. The Maire 
 of Castel-le-Gachis, although inaccessible to the charms 
 of music as retailed by the Berthelinis, had no hesita- 
 tion whatever as to the rights of the matter. He 
 instantly fell foul of the Commissary in very high 
 terms, and the Commissary, pricked by this humilia- 
 tion, accepted battle on the point of fact. The argu- 
 ment lasted some little while with varying success, 
 until at length victory inclined so plainly to the Com- 
 missary's side that the Maire was fain to re-assert him- 
 self by an exercise of authority. He had been out- 
 argued, but he was still the Maire. And so, turning 
 from his interlocutor, he briefly but kindly recom- 
 mended Leon to go back instanter to his concert. 
 
 " It is already growing late," he added. 
 
 Leon did not wait to be told twice. He returned to 
 the Cafe of the Triumphs of the Plough with all expe- 
 dition. Alas ! the audience had melted away during 
 his absence; Elvira was sitting in a very disconsolate 
 attitude on the guitar-box; she had watched the com- 
 pany dispersing by twos and threes, and the prolonged 
 spectacle had somewhat overwhelmed her spirits. 
 1 i h man, she reflected, retired with a certain propor- 
 tion of her earnings in his pockets, and she saw 
 to-night's board and to-morrow's railway expenses, and 
 finally even to-morrow's dinner, walk one after another 
 out of the cafe door and disappear into the night. 
 
 " What was it ? " she asked, languidly.
 
 PROVIDENCE AND THE GUITAR. 307 
 
 But Leon did not answer. He was looking round 
 him on the scene of defeat. Scarce a score of 
 listeners remained, and these of the least promising 
 sort. The minute hand of the clock was already 
 climbing upward towards eleven. 
 
 "It's a lost battle," said he, and then taking up the 
 money-box, he turned it out. " Three francs seventy- 
 five ! " he cried, "as against four of board and six of 
 railway fares; and no time for the tombola ! Elvira, 
 this is Waterloo." And he sat down and passed both 
 hands desperately among his curls. " O Fichu Com- 
 missaire ! " he cried, " Fichu Commissaire ! " 
 
 " Let us get the things together and be off," returned 
 Elvira. "We might try another song, but there is not 
 six halfpence in the room." 
 
 " Six halfpence ? " cried Leon, " six hundred thou- 
 sand devils ! There is not a human creature in the 
 town — nothing but pigs and dogs and commissaries ! 
 Pray heaven, we get safe to bed." 
 
 " Don't imagine things ! " exclaimed Elvira, with a 
 shudder. 
 
 And with that they set to work on their prepara- 
 tions. The tobacco-jar, the cigarette-holder, the three 
 papers of shirt-studs, which were to have been the 
 prizes of the tombola had the tombola come off, were 
 made into a bundle with the music; the guitar was 
 stowed into the fat guitar-case; and Elvira having 
 thrown a thin shawl about her neck and shoulders, the 
 pair issued from the cafe and set off for the Black 
 Head. 
 
 As they crossed the market-place the church bell 
 rang out eleven. It was a dark, mild night, and there 
 was no one in the streets. 
 
 "It is all very fine," said Leon: "but I have a pre- 
 sentiment. The night is not yet done."
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 The " I >l.i< k Head" presented not a single chink 01 
 
 light upon the street, and the carriage gale was closed. 
 
 "This is unprecedented," observed Leon. " An inn 
 
 ■ 1 by live minutes alter eleven ! And there were 
 sev -ral commercial travelers in the cafe up to a late 
 hour. Eh ira, my heart misgives me. Let us ring the 
 bell." 
 
 The bell had a potent note; and being swung under 
 the arch it filled the house from top to bottom with 
 surly, clanging reverberations. The sound accentuated 
 the conventual appearance of the building; a wintry 
 sentiment, a thought of prayer and mortification, took 
 hold upon Elvira's mind; and as for Leon, he seemed 
 to be reading the stage directions for a lugubrious 
 fifth act. 
 
 " This is your fault," said Elvira : " this is what 
 comes of fancying things ! " 
 
 Again Leon pulled the bell-rope; again the solemn 
 tocsin awoke the echoes of the inn; and ere they had 
 died away, a light glimmered in the carriage entrance, 
 and a powerful voice was heard upraised and tremulous 
 with wrath. 
 
 " What's all this ?" cried the tragic host through the 
 spars of the gate. " Hard upon twelve, and you come 
 clamoring like Prussians at the door of a respectable 
 hotel ? Oh ! " he cried, " I know you now ! Common 
 singers ! People in trouble with the police ! And you 
 present yourselves at midnight like lords and ladies ? 
 Be off with you ! " 
 
 " You will permit me to remind you," said Leon, in 
 thrilling tones, " that I am a guest in your house, that 
 I am properly inscribed, and that I have deposited 
 baggage to the value of four hundred francs." 
 308
 
 PROVIDENCE AND THE GUITAR. 309 
 
 "You cannot get in at this hour," returned the man. 
 " This is no thieves' tavern, for mohocks and night 
 rakes and organ-grinders." 
 
 " Brute ! " cried Elvira, for the organ-grinders 
 touched her home. 
 
 " Then I demand my baggage," said Leon, with una- 
 bated dignity. 
 
 " I know nothing of your baggage," replied th? 
 landlord. 
 
 " You detain my baggage ? You dare to detain my 
 baggage ? " cried the singer. 
 
 " Who are you ? " returned the landlord. " It is 
 dark — I cannot recognize you." 
 
 " Very well, then — you detain my baggage," con- 
 cluded Leon. " You shall smart for this. 1 will weary 
 out your life with persecutions; I will drag you from 
 court to court; if there is justice to be had in France, 
 it shall be rendered between you and me. And I will 
 make you a by-word — I will put you in a song — a 
 scurrilous song — an indecent song — a popular song — 
 which the boys shall sing to you in the street, and come 
 and howl through these spars at midnight ! " 
 
 He had gone on raising his voice at every phrase, for 
 all the while the landlord was very placidly retiring ; 
 and now, when the last glimmer of light had vanished 
 from the arch, and the last footstep died away in the 
 interior, L6on turned to his wife with a heroic coun- 
 tenance. 
 
 " Elvira," said he, " I have now a duty in life. I 
 shall destroy that man as Eugene Sue destroyed the 
 concierge. Let us come at once to the Gendarmerie 
 and begin our vengeance." 
 
 He picked up the guitar-case, which had been 
 propped against the wall, and they set forth through 
 the silent and ill-lighted town with burning hearts. 
 
 The Gendarmerie was concealed beside the telegraph 
 office at the bottom of a vast court, which was partly 
 laid out in gardens; and here all the shepherds of the 
 public lay locked in grateful sleep. It took a deal oi
 
 310 NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 knocking to waken one; and he, when he came at last 
 
 to the door, could find no other remark but that " it 
 
 none of his business." L£on reasoned with him, 
 
 threatened him, besought him; " here," he said, " was 
 
 Mad. une berthelini in evening dress — a delicate woman 
 — in an interesting condition" — the last was thrown in, 
 I fancy, for effect; and to all this the man-at-arms 
 made the same answer : 
 
 " It is none of my business," said he. 
 
 " Wry well," said Leon, " then we shall go to the 
 Commissary." Thither they went ; the office was 
 closed and dark; but the house was close by, and Leon 
 was soon swinging the bell like a madman. The Com- 
 missary's wife appeared at a window. She was a thread- 
 paper creature, and informed them that the Commissary 
 had not yet come home. 
 
 " Is he at the Maire's ?" demanded Leon. 
 
 She thought that was not unlikely. 
 
 " Where is the Maire's house ? " he asked. 
 
 And she gave him some rather vague information on 
 that point. 
 
 "Stay you here, Elvira," said Leon, "lest I should 
 miss him by the way. If, when I return, I find you 
 here no longer, I shall follow at once to the Black 
 Head." 
 
 And he set out to find the Maire's. It took him 
 some ten minutes wandering among blind lanes, and 
 when he arrived it was already half an hour past mid- 
 night. A long white garden wall overhung by some 
 thick chestnuts, a door with a letter-box, and an iron 
 bell-pull, that was all that could be seen of the Maire's 
 domicile. L£on took the bell-pull in both hands, and 
 danced furiously upon the side-walk. The bell itself 
 was just upon the other side of the wall, it responded 
 to his activity, and scattered an alarming clangor far 
 and wide into the night. 
 
 A window was thrown open in a house across the 
 street, and a voice inquired the cause of this untimely 
 uproar.
 
 PROVIDENCE AND THE GUITAR. 31 1 
 
 " 1 wish the Maire," said Leon. 
 
 " He has been in bed this hour," returned the voice. 
 
 " He must get up again," retorted Leon, and he was 
 for tackling the bell-pull once more. 
 
 " You will never make him hear," responded the 
 voice. " The garden is of great extent, the house is at 
 the farther end, and both the Maire and his housekeeper 
 are deaf." 
 
 " Aha ! " said Leon, pausing. " The Maire is deaf, 
 is he? That explains." And he thought of the even- 
 ing's concert with a momentary feeling of relief. 
 "Ah ! " he continued, "and so the Maire is deaf, and 
 the garden vast, and the house at the far end ? " 
 
 "And you might ring all night," added the voice, 
 " and be none the better for it. You would only keep 
 me awake." 
 
 " Thank you, neighbor," replied the singer. " You 
 shall sleep." 
 
 And he made off again at his best pace for the Com- 
 missary's. Elvira was still walking to and fro before 
 the door. 
 
 " He has not come ? " asked Leon. 
 
 " Not he," she replied. 
 
 " Good," returned Leon. " I am sure our man's 
 inside. Let me see the guitar-case. I shall lay this 
 siege in form, Elvira; I am angry; I am indignant; I 
 am truculently inclined; but I thank my Maker I have 
 still a sense of fun. The unjust judge shall be impor- 
 tuned in a serenade, Elvira. Set him up— and set him up." 
 
 He had the case opened by this time, struck a few 
 chords, and fell into an attitude which was irresistibly 
 Spanish. 
 
 " Now," he continued, " feel your voice. Are you 
 ready ? Follow me ! " 
 
 The guitar twanged, and the two voices upraised, in 
 harmony and with a startling loudness, the chorus of a 
 song of old Beranger's: — 
 
 " Commissairc ! Commissaire ! 
 Colin bat sa menagerc."
 
 313 N£ W ARAB 1. IX A hi l ITS. 
 
 The ston< i of Castel-le-Ga< his thrilled at this auda- 
 cious innovation. Hitherto had the night been sacred 
 
 to repose and nightcaps; and now what was this? 
 Window after window was opened; matches scratched, 
 and candles began to flicker; swollen sleepy faces 
 peered forth into the starlight. There were two 
 figures I afore the Commissary's house, each bolt 
 upright, with head thrown back and eyes interrogating 
 the starry heavens; the guitar wailed, shouted, and 
 reverberated like half an orchestra; and the voices, 
 with a crisp and spirited delivery, hurled the appro- 
 priate burden at the Commissary's window. All the 
 echoes repeated the functionary's name. It was'more 
 like an entr'acte in a farce of Moliere's than a passage 
 of real life in Castelde-Gdchis. 
 
 The Commissary, if he was not the first, was Mot 
 the last of the neighbors to yield to the influence of 
 music, and furiously throw open the window of his 
 bedroom. He was beside himself with rage. He 
 leaned far over the window-sill, raving and gesticu- 
 lating ; the tassel of his white night-cap danced like a 
 thing of life: he opened his mouth to dimensions 
 hitherto unprecedented, and yet his voice, instead of 
 escaping from it in a roar, came fortli shrill and choked 
 and tottering. A little more serenading, and it was 
 clear he would be better acquainted with the apo- 
 plexy. 
 
 1 < orn to reproduce his language; he touched upon 
 too many serious topics by the way for a quiet story- 
 teller. Although he was known for a man who was 
 prompt with his tongue, and had a power of strong 
 expression at command, he excelled himself so remark- 
 ably this night, that one maiden lady, who had got out 
 of bed like the re.^t to hear the serenade, was obliged 
 to shut her window at the second clause. Even what 
 she had heard disquieted her conscience; and next day 
 she said she scarcely reckoned as a maiden lady any 
 longer. 
 
 Leon tried to explain his predicament, but he
 
 PROVIDENCE AND THE GUITAR. 313 
 
 received nothing but threats of arrest by way of 
 answer. 
 
 " If I come down to you ! " cried the Commissary. 
 
 "Aye," said Leon, "do!" 
 
 " I will not ! " cried the Commissary. 
 
 "You dare not ! " answered Leon. 
 
 At that the Commissary closed his window. 
 
 "All is over," said the singer. "The serenade was 
 perhaps ill-judged. These boors have no sense of 
 humor." 
 
 " Let us get away from here," said Elvira, with a 
 shiver. "All these people looking — it is so rude and 
 so brutal." And then giving way once more to passion 
 — "Brutes !" she cried aloud to the candle-lit specta- 
 tors — "brutes! brutes! brutes." 
 
 "Sauve cpii peut," said Leon. "You have done u 
 now ! " 
 
 And taking the guitar in one hand and the case in 
 the other, he led the way witli something too precipi- 
 tate to be merely called precipitation from the scene 
 of this absurd adventure
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 To the west of Castel-le-Gachis four rows -of vener- 
 able lime-trees formed, in this starry night, a twilit 
 avenue with two side aisles of pitch darkness. Here 
 and there stone benches were disposed between the 
 trunks. There was not a breath of wind ; a heavy 
 atmosphere of perfume hung about the alleys ; and 
 every leaf stood stock-still upon its twig. Hither, 
 after vainly knocking at an inn or two, the Berthelinis 
 came at length to pass the night. After an amiable 
 contention, Leon insisted on giving his coat to Elvira, 
 and they sat down together on the first bench in 
 silence. Leon made a cigarette, which he smoked to 
 an end, looking up into the trees, and, beyond them, 
 at the constellations, of which he tried vainly to recall 
 the names. The silence was broken by the church 
 bell ; it rang the four quarters on a light and tinkling 
 measure ; then followed a single deep stroke that died 
 slowly away with a thrill ; and stillness resumed its 
 empire. 
 
 " One," said Leon. " Four hours till daylight. It 
 is warm ; it is starry; I have matches and tobacco. 
 Do not let us exaggerate, Elvira — the experience is 
 positively charming. I feel a glow within me ; I am 
 born again. This is the poetry of life. Think of 
 Cooper's novels, my dear." 
 
 " Leon," she said, fiercely, " how can you talk such 
 wicked, infamous nonsense ? To pass all night out of 
 doors — it is like a nightmare ! We shall die." 
 
 " You suffer yourself to be led away," he replied, 
 soothingly. "It is not unpleasant here; only you 
 brood. Come, now, let us repeat a scene. Shall we try 
 Alcestc and Celiinene ? No? Or a passage from the 
 'Two Orphans?' Come, now, it will occupy your 
 314
 
 PROVIDENCE AND THE GUITAR, 315 
 
 mind ; I will play up to you as I never have played 
 before ; I feel art moving in my bones." 
 
 " Hold your tongue," she cried, "or you will drive 
 me mad ! Will nothing solemnize you — not even this 
 hideous situation?" 
 
 "Oh, hideous ! " objected Leon. " Hideous is not 
 the word. Why, where would you be ? ' Dites, la 
 jeune belle, 011 voulez-vouz aller ? ' " he carolled. 
 'Well, now," he went on, opening the guitar-case, 
 " there's another idea for you — sing. Sing ' Dites, la 
 jeune belle ! ' It will compose your spirits, Elvira, I 
 am sure." 
 
 And without waiting an answer he began to strum 
 the symphony. The first chords awoke a young man 
 who was lying asleep upon a neighbouring bench. 
 
 " Hullo ! " cried the young man, " who are you ? " 
 
 " Under which king, Bezonian ? " declaimed the 
 artist. " Speak or die ! " 
 
 Or if it was not exactly that, it was something to 
 much the same purpose from a French tragedy. 
 
 The young man drew near in the twilight. He was 
 a tall, powerful, gentlemanly fellow, with a somewhat 
 puffy face, dressed in a gray tweed suit, with a deer- 
 stalker hat of the same material ; and as he now came 
 forward he carried a knapsack slung upon one arm. 
 
 "Are you camping out here, too ? " he asked, with a 
 strong English accent. "I'm not sorry for com- 
 pany." 
 
 Leon explained their misadventure ; and the other 
 told them that he was a Cambridge undergraduate on a 
 walking tour, that he had run short of money, could 
 no longer pay for his night's lodging, had already been 
 camping out for two nights, and feared he should 
 require to continue the same manoeuvre for at least 
 two nights more. 
 
 " Luckily, it's jolly weather," he concluded. 
 
 "You hear that, Elvira," said Leon. "Madame 
 Berthelini," he went on, " is ridiculously affected by 
 this trifling occurrence. For my part, I find it roman-
 
 3 16 ." ARABIAN NIGHTS, 
 
 tic and far from uncomfortable; or at least," he 
 added, shifting un the stone bench, " not quite so 
 uncomfortable as might have been expo ted. But 
 pray be seated." 
 
 ' Y< ," returned the undergraduate, sitting down, 
 " it's rather nice than otherwise when once you're used 
 to it ; only it's devilish difficult to get washed. 1 like 
 the fresh air and these stars and things." 
 
 ''Aha ! " said Leon, '' Monsieur is an artist." 
 
 '\\n artist?" returned the other, with a blank stare. 
 " Not if 1 know it 1 " 
 
 "Pardon me," said the actor. "What you said this 
 moment about the orbs of heaven " 
 
 " Oh, nonsense ! " cried the Englishman. "A fellow 
 may admire the stars and be anything he likes." 
 
 You have an artist's nature, however, Mr. I 
 
 beg your pardon ; may I, without indiscretion, inquire 
 your name ? " asked Leon. 
 
 " My name is Stubbs," replied the Englishman. 
 
 " I thank you,*' returned Leon. " Mine is Berthe- 
 lini — Leon Berthelini, ex-artist of the theatres of Mont- 
 rouge, Belleville, and Montmartre. Humble as you 
 see me, I have created with applause more than one 
 important role. The Press were unanimous in praise 
 of my Howling Devil of the Mountains, in the piece 
 of the same name. Madame, whom I now present to 
 you, is herself an artist, and 1 must not omit to state, 
 a better artist than her husband. She also is a crea- 
 tor ; she created nearly twenty successful songs at one 
 of the principal Parisian music-halls. But, to con- 
 tinue, I was saying you had an artist's nature, Mon- 
 sieur Stubbs, and you must permit me to be a judge in 
 such a question. I trust you will not falsify your 
 instincts ; let me beseech you to follow the career of 
 an artist." 
 
 "Thank you," returned Stubbs, with a chuckle. 
 " I'm going to be a banker." 
 
 " No," said Leon, " do not say so. Not that. A man 
 with such a nature as yours should not derogate so far.
 
 PROVIDENCE AND THE GUITAR. 317 
 
 What are a few privations here and there, so long as 
 you are working for a high and noble goal ? " 
 
 "This fellows mad," thought Stubbs; "but the 
 woman's rather pretty, and he's not bad fun for 
 himself, if you come to that. What he said was different. 
 " I thought ynu said you were an actor ? " 
 
 44 1 certainly did so," replied Leon, "I am one, or, 
 alas ! I was." 
 
 " And so you want me to be an actor, do you ? " 
 continued the undergraduate. " Why, man, I could 
 never so much as learn the stuff ; my memory's like a 
 sieve ; and as for acting, I've no more idea than a cat." 
 
 " The stage is not the only course," said Leon. " Be 
 
 a sculptor, be a dancer, be a poet or a novelist ; follow 
 
 vour heart, in short, and do some thorough work before 
 
 you die." 
 
 " And do you call these things art ? " inquired Stubbs. 
 
 " Why, certainly ! " returned Leon. " Are they not 
 all branches ? " 
 
 " Oh ! I didn't know," replied the Englishman. " I 
 thought an artist meant a fellow who painted." 
 
 The singer stared at him in some surprise. 
 
 " It is the difference of language," he said at last. 
 *' This Tower of Babel, when shall we have paid for it? If 
 I could speak English you would follow me more readily." 
 
 " Between you and me, I don't believe I should," 
 replied the other. " You seem to have thought a devil 
 of a lot about this business. For my part, I admire the 
 stars, and like to have them shining — it's so cheery — ■ 
 but hang me if I had an idea it had anything to do with 
 art ! It's not in my line, you see. I'm not intellec- 
 tual ; I have no end of trouble to scrape through my 
 exams., I can tell you ! But I'm not a bad sort at 
 bottom," he added, seeing his interlocutor looked dis- 
 tressed even in the dim starshine, " and I rather like 
 the play, and music, and guitars, and things." 
 
 Leon had a perception that the understanding was 
 incomplete. He changed the subject. 
 
 " And so you travel on foot ? " he continued. " How
 
 3i S NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 romantic ' How courageous ! And how are you 
 pleased with my land? How does the scenery affect 
 
 you among these wild hills of ours f" 
 
 u Well, the fact is," began Stubbs — he was about to 
 say that he didn't care for scenery, which was not at 
 all true, being, on the contrary, only an athletic under- 
 graduate pretension ; but he had begun to suspect that 
 Berthelini liked a different sort of meat, and substituted 
 something else — "The fact is, I think it jolly. They 
 told me it was no good up here ; even the guide-book 
 said so ; but I don't know what they meant. I think 
 it is deuced pretty — upon my word, I do." 
 
 At this moment, in the most unexpected manner, 
 Elvira burst into tears. 
 
 "My voice !" she cried. "Leon, if I stay here 
 longer I shall lose my voice ! " 
 
 You shall not stay another moment, " cried the 
 actor. " If I have to beat in a door, if I have to burn 
 the town, I shall find you shelter." 
 
 With that, he replaced the guitar, and comforting 
 her with some caresses, drew her arm through his. 
 
 " Monsieur Stubbs," said he, taking off his hat, " the 
 reception I offer you is rather problematical ; but let 
 me beseech you to give us the pleasure of your society. 
 You are a little embarrassed for the moment ; you 
 must, indeed, permit me to advance what may be neces- 
 sary. I ask it as a favor ; we must not part so soon 
 after having met so strangely." 
 
 " Oh, come, you know," said Stubbs, " I can't let a 
 
 fellow like you " And there he paused, feeling 
 
 somehow or other on a wrong tack. 
 
 " I do not wish to employ menaces," continued Leon, 
 with a smile ; " but if you refuse, indeed I shall not 
 take it kindly." 
 
 " I don't quite see my way out of it," thought the 
 undergraduate ; and then, after a pause, he said, aloud 
 and ungraciously enough, " All right. I — I'm very 
 much obliged, of course." And he proceeded to follow 
 them, thinking in his heart, " But it's bad form, all the 
 same, to force an oblisiation on a fellow."
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Leon strode ahead as if he knew exactly where he 
 was going; the sobs of Madame were still faintly audi- 
 ble, and no one uttered a word. A dog barked furi- 
 ously in a court-yard as they went by; then the church 
 clock struck two, and many domestic clocks followed 
 or preceded it in piping tones. And just then Berthe- 
 lini spied a light. It burned in a small house on the 
 outskirts of the town, and thither the party now 
 directed their steps. 
 
 "It is always a chance," said Leon. 
 
 The house in question stood back from the street 
 behind an open space, part garden, part turnip field; 
 and several outhouses stood forward from either wing 
 at right angles to the front. One of these had recently 
 undergone some change. An enormous window, look- 
 ing towards the north, had been effected in the wall 
 and roof, and Leon began to hope it was a studio. 
 
 " If it's only a painter," he said, with a chuckle, 
 "ten to one we get as good a welcome as we want." 
 
 " I thought painters were principally poor," said 
 Stubbs. 
 
 " Ah," cried Leon, '* you do not know the world as 
 I do. The poorer the better for us." 
 
 And the trio advanced into the turnip field. 
 
 The light was in the ground floor; as one window 
 was brightly illuminated and two others more faintly, 
 it might be supposed that there was a single lamp in 
 one corner of a large apartment; and a certain tremu- 
 lousness and temporary dwindling showed that a live 
 fire contributed to the effect. The sound of a voice 
 now became audible ; and the trespassers paused to 
 listen. It was pitched in a high, angry key, but had 
 still a good, full, and masculine note in it. The utter- 
 3*9
 
 3^0 NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS 
 
 ance was voluble, too voluble even to be quite distinct; 
 a stream of words, rising and falling, with ever and 
 again a phrase thrown out by itself, as if the speaker 
 ; med on its virtue. 
 
 Idenly another voice joined in. This time it was 
 a woman's; and if the man were angry, the woman was 
 incensed to the degree of fury. There was that abso- 
 lutely blank composure known to suffering males; that 
 colorless unnatural speech which shows a spirit accu- 
 rately balanced between homicide and hysterics; the 
 tone in which the best of women sometimes utter words 
 than death to those most dear to them. If 
 ract Bones-and-Sepulchre were to be endowed with 
 the gift of speech, thus, and not otherwise, would it 
 discourse. Leon was a brave man, and I fear he was 
 somewhat sceptically given (he had been educated in a 
 Papistical country), but the habit of childhood pre- 
 vailed, and he crossed himself devoutly. He had met 
 several women in his career. It was obvious that his 
 instinct had not deceived him, for the male voice broke 
 forth instantly in a towering passion. 
 
 The undergraduate, who had not understood the 
 significance of the woman's contribution, pricked up 
 his ears at the change upon the man. 
 
 "There's going to be a free fight," he opined. 
 
 There was another retort from the woman, still calm 
 but a little higher. 
 
 " Hysterics ? " asked Leon of his wife. " Is that the 
 stage direction ?" 
 
 " How should I know ?" returned Elvira, somewhat 
 tartly. 
 
 "Oh, woman, woman!" said Leon, beginning to 
 open the guitar-case. " It is one of the burdens of my 
 life, Monsieur Stubbs; they support each other; they 
 always pretend there is no system ; they say it's 
 nature. Even Madame Berthelini, who is a dramatic 
 artist! " 
 
 " You are heartless, Leon," said Elvira : " that 
 woman is in trouble."
 
 PROVIDENCE AND THE GUITAR. 32* 
 
 " And the man, my angel ? " inquired Berthelini, 
 passing the ribbon of his guitar. "And the man, 
 m 'amour ? " 
 
 " He is a man," she answered. 
 
 "You hear that ? " said Leon to Stubbs. " It is not 
 too late for you. Mark the intonation. And now," 
 lie continued, " what are we to give them ? " 
 
 " Are you going to sing ? " asked Stubbs. 
 
 " I am a troubadour," replied Leon. " I claim a 
 welcome by and for my art. If I were a banker could 
 I do as much ? " 
 
 " Well, you wouldn't need, you know," aswered the 
 undergraduate. 
 
 " Egad," said Leon, " but that's true. Elvira, that 
 is true." 
 
 " Of course it is," she replied. " Did you not know 
 it ? " 
 
 "My dear," answered Leon, impressively, "I know 
 nothing but what is agreeable. Even my knowledge 
 of life is a work of art superiorly composed. But 
 what are we to give them ? It should be something 
 appropriate." 
 
 Visions of " Let dogs delight " passed through the 
 undergraduate's mind; but it occurred to him that the 
 poetry was English and that he did not know the air. 
 Hence he contributed no suggestion. 
 
 " Something about our houselessness," said Elvira. 
 
 " I have it," cried Leon. And he broke forth into 
 a song of Pierre Dupont's: — 
 
 Savez-vous 011 gite 
 Mai, ce joli mois ? 
 
 Elvira joined in; so did Stubbs, with a good ear 
 and voice, but an imperfect acquaintance with the 
 music. Leon and the guitar were equal to the situa- 
 tion. The actor dispensed his throat-notes with prod- 
 igality and enthusiasm; and, as he looked up to heaven 
 in his heroic way, tossing the black ringlets, it seemed 
 to him that the very stars contributed a dumb applause
 
 NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 to his efforts, and the universe lent him its silence foi 
 a chorus. That is one of the best features of tho 
 heavenly bodies, that they belong to everybody in par- 
 ticular; and a man like I. eon, a chronic Endymion 
 
 who managed to get along without encouragement, 
 is always the world's centre for himself. 
 
 He alone — and it is to be noted, he was the worst 
 singer of the three — took the music seriously to heart, 
 and judged the serenade from a high artistic point of 
 view. Elvira, on the other hand, was preoccupied 
 about their reception; and, as for Stubbs, he consid- 
 ered the whole affair in the light of a broad joke. 
 
 "Know you the lair of May, the lovely month?" 
 went the three voices in the turnip-field. 
 
 The inhabitants were plainly fluttered; the light 
 moved to and fro, strengthening in one window, 
 paling in another; and then the door was thrown open, 
 and a man in a blouse appeared on the threshold car- 
 rying a lamp. He was a powerful young fellow, with 
 bewildered hair and beard, wearing his neck open; his 
 blouse was stained with oil-colors in a harlequinesque 
 disorder; and there was something rural in the droop 
 and bagginess of his belted trousers. 
 
 From immediately behind him, and indeed over his 
 shoulder, a woman's face looked out into the darkness; 
 it was pale and a little weary, although still young; it 
 wore a dwindling, disappearing prettiness, soon to be 
 quite gone, and the expression was both gentle and 
 sour, and reminded one faintly of the. taste of certain 
 drugs. For all that, it was not a face to dislike; when 
 the prettiness had vanished, it seemed as if a certain 
 pale beauty might step in to take its place; and as 
 both the mildness and the asperity were characters of 
 youth, it might be hoped that, with years, both would 
 merge into a constant, brave, and not unkindly temper 
 
 " What is all this ? " cried the man.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Leon had his hat in his hand at once. He came for* 
 ward with his customary grace; it was a moment which 
 would have earned him a round of cheering on the 
 stage. Elvira and Stubbs advanced behind him, like a 
 couple of Admetus's sheep following the god Apollo. 
 
 " Sir," said Leon, " the hour is unpardonably late, 
 and our little serenade has the air of an impertinence. 
 Believe me, sir, it is an appeal. Monsieur is an artist, 
 I perceive. We are here three artists benighted and 
 without shelter, one a woman — a delicate woman — in 
 evening dress — in an interesting situation. This will 
 not fail to touch the woman's heart of Madame, whom 
 I perceive indistinctly behind Monsieur her husband, 
 and whose face speaks eloquently of a well-regulated 
 mind. Ah ! Monsieur, Madame — one generous move- 
 ment, and you make three people happy ! Two or 
 three hours beside your fire — I ask it of Monsieur in 
 the name of Art — I ask it of Madame by the sanctity 
 of womanhood." 
 
 The two, as by a tacit consent, drew back from the 
 door. 
 
 " Come in," said the man. 
 
 " Entrez, Madame," said the woman. 
 
 The door opened directly upon the kitchen of the 
 house, which was to all appearance the only sitting- 
 room. The furniture was both plain and scanty; but 
 there were one or two landscapes on the wall hand- 
 somely framed, as if they had already visited the 
 committee-rooms of an exhibition and been thence 
 extruded. Leon walked up to the pictures and repre- 
 sented the part of a connoisseur before each in turn, 
 with his usual dramatic insight and force. The mas- 
 ter of the house, as if irresistibly attracted, followed 
 3 2 3
 
 ;; ARABIAN ' 
 
 him from cam nvas with the lamp. Elvira was 
 
 led directly to the fire, where she proceeded to warm 
 herself, while Stubbs stood in ihe middle of the flooi 
 and followed the proceedings ol Leon with mild aston- 
 ishment in hi 
 
 ■• Ybu shi aid see them by daylight," said the artist. 
 
 "I promise myself that pleasure," said Leon. "You 
 ; ir, if you will permit me an observation, the 
 
 art of composition to a T." 
 
 " You arc very good," returned the other. " But 
 should you not draw nearer to the fire ?" 
 
 " With all my heart," said Leon. 
 
 And the whole party soon gathered at the table over 
 a hasty and not an elegant cold supper, washed down 
 with tiie least of small wines. Nobody liked the meal, 
 but nobody complained; they put a good face upon it, 
 one and all, and made a great clattering of knives and 
 forks. To see Leon eating a single cold sausage was 
 to see a triumph; by the time he had done he had 
 got through as much pantomime as would have sufficed 
 for a baron of beef, and he had the relaxed expression 
 of the over-eaten. 
 
 As Elvira had naturally taken a place by the side of 
 Leon, and Stubbs as naturally, although I believe 
 unconsciously, by the side of Elvira, the host and 
 hostess were left together. Yet it was to be noted 
 that they never addressed a word to each other, nor 
 so much as suffered their eyes to meet. The inter- 
 rupted skirmish still survived in ill feeling ; and the 
 instant the guests departed it would break forth again 
 as bitterly as ever. The talk wandered from this to 
 that subject — for with one accord the party had 
 declared it was too late to go to bed ; but those two 
 never relaxed towards each other ; Goneril and Regan 
 in a sisterly tiff were not more bent on enmity. 
 
 It chanced that Elvira was so much tired by all the 
 little excitements of the night, that for once she laid 
 aside her company manners, which were both easy 
 and correct, and in the most natural manner in the
 
 PROVIDENCE AND THE GUITAR. 325 
 
 world leaned her head on Leon's shoulder. At the 
 Sctme time, fatigue suggesting tenderness, she locked 
 the fingers of her right hand into those of her hus- 
 band's left ; and, half-closing her eyes, dozed off into 
 a golden borderland between sleep and waking. But 
 ail the time she was not unaware of what was passing, 
 and saw the painter's wife studying her with looks 
 between contempt and envy. 
 
 it occurred to Leon that his constitution demanded 
 the use of some tobacco; and he undid his fingers 
 from Elvira's in order to roll a cigarette. It was gen- 
 tly done, and he took care that his indulgence should 
 in no other way disturb his wife's position. But it 
 seemed to catch the eye of the painter's wife with a 
 special significancy. She looked straight before her 
 for an instant, and then, with a swift and stealthy 
 movement, took hold of her husband's hand below the 
 table. Alas! she might have spared herself the dex- 
 terity. For the poor fellow was so overcome by this 
 caress that he stopped with his mouth open in the 
 middle of a word, and by the expression of his face 
 plainly declared to all the company that his thoughts 
 had been diverted into softer channels. 
 
 If it had not been rather amiable, it would have 
 been absurdly droll. His wife at once withdrew her 
 touch; but it was plain she had to exert some force. 
 Thereupon the young man colored and looked for a 
 moment beautiful. 
 
 Leon and Elvira both observed the by-play, and a 
 shock passed from one to the other; for they were 
 inveterate match-makers, especially between those who 
 were already married. 
 
 " I beg your pardon,'' said Leon, suddenly. " I see 
 no use in pretending. Before we came in here we 
 heard sounds indicating— if I may so express myself — 
 an imperfect harmony." 
 
 " Sir " began the man, 
 
 But the woman was beforehand. 
 
 " It is quite true, ' she said. " I see no cause to be
 
 ;>-•& NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 ashamed. If my husband is mad I shall at least do 
 
 my utmost to prevent the consequences. Picture to 
 
 If, Monsieur and Madame," she went on, for 
 
 she passed Stubbs Over, " that this wretched person — 
 
 a dauber, an incompetent, not fit to be a sign-painter 
 — receives this morning an admirable offer from an 
 uncle — an uncle of my own, my mother's brother, and 
 tenderly beloved — of a clerkship with nearly a hun- 
 dred and fifty pounds a year, and that he — picture to 
 yourself! — he refuses it ! Why? For the sake of 
 Art, he says. Look at his art, I say — look at it ! Is 
 it fit to be seen ? Ask him — is it fit to be sold ? And 
 it is for this, Monsieur and Madame, that he con- 
 demns me to the most deplorable existence, without 
 luxuries, without comforts, in a vile suburb of a coun- 
 try town. O non!" she cried, " non — je ne me tairai 
 pas — e'est plus fort que moi ! I take these gentlemen 
 and this lady for judges — is this kind ? is it decent ? is 
 it manly ? Do I not deserve better at his hands after 
 having married him and " — (a visible hitch) — " done 
 everything in the world to please him ?" 
 
 I doubt if there were ever a more embarrassed com- 
 pany :.t a table ; everyone looked like a fool ; and the 
 husband like the biggest. 
 
 " The art of Monsieur, however," said Elvira, break- 
 ing the silence, "is not wanting in distinction." 
 
 " It has this distinction," said the wife, "that nobody 
 will buy it." 
 
 " I should have supposed a clerkship " began 
 
 •bs. 
 
 " Art is Art," swept in Leon. "I salute Art. It is 
 
 beautiful, the divine ; it is the spirit of the world, 
 
 and the pride of life. But " And the actor paused. 
 
 " A clerkship " began Stubbs. 
 
 "I'll tell you what it is," said the painter. "I am 
 an artist, and as this gentleman says, Art is this and 
 the other ; but of course, if my wife is going to make 
 my life a piece of perdition all day long, I prefer to go 
 and drown myself out of hand."
 
 PROVIDENCE AND THE GUITAR, 327 
 
 "' Go ! " said his wife. " I should like to see you ! " 
 
 " I was going to say," resumed Stubbs, " that a 
 fellow may be a clerk and paint almost as much as he 
 likes. I know a fellow in a bank who makes capital 
 water-color sketches ; he even sold one for seven-and- 
 six." 
 
 To both the women this seemed a plank of safety ; 
 each hopefully interrogated the countenance of her 
 lord ; even Elvira, an artist herself ! — but indeed there 
 must be something permanently mercantile in the 
 female nature. The two men exchanged a glance ; it 
 was tragic ; not otherwise might two philosophers 
 salute, as at the end of a laborious life each recognized 
 that he was still a mystery to his disciples. 
 
 Leon arose. 
 
 " Art is Art," he repeated, sadly. " It is not water- 
 color sketches, nor practising on a piano. It is a life 
 to be lived." 
 
 " And in the meantime people starve !" observed the 
 woman of the house. "If that'sa life, it is not one forme." 
 
 "I'll tell you what," burst forth Leon; "you 
 Madame, go into another room and talk it over with 
 my wife ; and I'll stay here and talk it over with your 
 husband. It may come to nothing, but let's try." 
 
 " I am very willing," replied the young woman ; and 
 she proceeded to light a candle. " This way if you 
 please." And she led Elvira upstairs into a bedroom. 
 " The fact is," said she, sitting down, " that my hus- 
 band cannot paint." 
 
 " No more can mine act," replied Elvira. 
 
 " I should have thought he could," returned the 
 other ; " he seems clever." 
 
 " He is so, and the best of men besides," said 
 Elvira ; " but he cannot act." 
 
 " At least he is not a sheer humbug like mine ; he 
 can at least sing." 
 
 " You mistake Leon," returned his wife, warmly. 
 " He does not even pretend to sing ; he has too fine a 
 taste ; he does so for a living. And, believe me, neither
 
 NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS. 
 
 of the men arc humbugs. They arc people with a 
 mission — which they < annol (any out." 
 
 "Humbug or not," replied the other, "you came 
 verj near passing the night in the fields; and, for my 
 . ! live in terror of .starvation. 1 should think it 
 in.m's mission to think, twice about his wife. But 
 it appears not. Nothing is their mission but to play 
 the fool. Oh!" she broke out, "is it not something 
 dreary to think of that man of mine? If he could 
 only du it, who would care ? but no — not he — no more 
 than I can ! " 
 
 " Have you any children ?" asked Elvira. 
 
 " No ; hut then 1 may." 
 
 " Children change so much," said Elvira, with a sigh. 
 
 And just then from the room below there flew up a 
 sudden snapping cord on the guitar ; one followed 
 alter another ; then the voice of Leon joined in ; and 
 there was an air being played and sung that stopped 
 the speech of the two women. The wife of the 
 painter stood like a person transfixed ; Elvira, looking 
 into her eyes, could see all manner of beautiful mem- 
 ories and kind thoughts that were passing in and out 
 of her sord with every note ; it was a piece of her 
 youth that went before her; a green French plain, the 
 smell of apple-flowers, the far and shining ringlets of 
 a river, and the words and presence of love. 
 
 " Leon has hit the nail," thought Elvira to herself, 
 " I wonder how." 
 
 The how was plain enough. Leon has asked the 
 painter if there were no air connected with courtship 
 and pleasant times; and having learned what he wished, 
 and allowed an interval to pass, he had soared forth 
 into 
 
 O mon amante, 
 O mon desir 
 Sachons cueillir 
 L'heure cliarmante ! 
 
 " Pardon me, Madame," said the painter's wife, "your 
 husband sings admirably web."
 
 PROVIDENCE AND THE GUITAR. 329 
 
 "He sings that with some feeling,'' replied Elvira, 
 critically, although she was a little moved herself, foi 
 the song cut both ways in the upper chamber ; but it 
 is as an actor and not as a musician." 
 
 " Life is very sad," said the other ; " it so wastes 
 away under one's fingers." 
 
 " I have not found it so, replied Elvira. " I think 
 the good parts of it last and grow greater every day." 
 
 " Frankly how would you advise me ? " 
 
 " Frankly I would let my husband do what he 
 wished. He is obviously a very loving painter ; you 
 have not yet tried him as a clerk. And you know — if 
 it were only as the possible father of your children — it 
 is as well to keep him at his best." 
 
 "He is an excellent fellow," said the wife. 
 
 They kept it up till sunrise with music and all man- 
 ner of good-fellowship ; and at sunrise, while the sky 
 was still temperate and clear, they separated on the 
 threshold with a thousand excellent wishes for each 
 other's welfare. Castel-le-Gachis was beginning to 
 send up its smoke against the golden East ; and the 
 church bell was ringing six. 
 
 " My guitar is a familiar spirit," said Leon, as he 
 and Elvira took the nearest way toward the inn ; " it 
 resuscitated a Commissary, created an English tour- 
 ist, and reconciled a man and wife." 
 
 Stubbs, on his part, went off into the morning with 
 reflections of his own. 
 
 " They are all mad," thought he, " all mad— but 
 wonderfully decent."
 
 nit i ikk \m 
 
 I M\ t KSM \ Ol ( \l ll-OKM \ 
 Santa Barbara 
 
 I MIS BOOK IS 1)1 I ON I UK LAST DATE 
 STAMPED BELOW.
 
 ...iiiiiimuiuiii 
 
 3 1205 00237 1894 
 
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 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 
 
 A A 
 
 001 417 140 
 
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 $ 

 
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