THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 AUTONYM LIBRARY
 
 THE AUTONYM LIBRARY. 
 
 Small works by representative writers, 
 whose contributions will bear their signa- 
 tures. 
 
 32mo, limp cloth, each 50 cents. 
 
 The Autonym Library is published in 
 co-operation with Mr. T. Fisher Unwin, of 
 London. 
 
 I. THE UPPER BERTH, by F. Marion Craw- 
 
 ford. 
 
 II. BY REEK AND PALM, by Louis Becke. 
 
 With Introduction by the Earl of Pem- 
 broke. 
 
 This will be followed by volumes by S. R. 
 Crockett, and others.
 
 THE UPPER BERTH 
 
 BY 
 
 F. MARION CRAWFORD 
 
 G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS 
 
 NEW YORK LONDON 
 
 West Twenty-third St. 24 Bedford St., Strand 
 
 TZbe ftnicfeerbocfeer press 
 1894
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1894 
 
 BY 
 G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS 
 
 PUBLISHERS' NOTE. 
 
 The two stories by Mr. Crawford, presented in this 
 volume, have been in print before, having been 
 originally written for two Christmas annuals which 
 were issued some years back. With the belief that 
 the stories are, however, still unknown to the larger 
 portion of Mr. Crawford's public, and in the opinion 
 that they aie well worthy of preservation in more 
 permanent form, the publishers have decided to re- 
 print them as the initial volume of the " Autonym " 
 library.
 
 PS 
 
 THE UPPER BERTH 
 
 2061867
 
 The Upper Berth. 
 
 SOMEBODY asked for the 
 cigars! We had talked long, 
 and the conversation was begin- 
 ning to languish ; the tobacco 
 smoke had got into the heavy 
 curtains, the wine had got into 
 those brains which were liable to 
 become heavy, and it was already 
 perfectly evident that, unless 
 somebody did something to 
 rouse our oppressed spirits, the 
 meeting would soon come to its 
 natural conclusion, and we, the 
 guests, would speedily go home to 
 bed, and most certainly to sleep. 
 No one had said anything very 
 3
 
 Tapper JSertb 
 
 remarkable ; it may be that no 
 one had anything very remarkable 
 to say. Jones had given us every 
 particular of his last hunting ad- 
 venture in Yorkshire. Mr. Tomp- 
 kins, of Boston, had explained at 
 elaborate length those working 
 principles, by the due and careful 
 maintenance of which the Atchi- 
 son, Topeka, and Santa Fe Rail- 
 road not only extended its terri- 
 tory, increased its departmental 
 influence, and transported live 
 stock without starving them to 
 death before the day of actual 
 delivery, but, also, had for years 
 succeeded in deceiving those pas- 
 sengers who bought its tickets into 
 the fallacious belief that the cor- 
 poration aforesaid was really able 
 to transport human life without 
 destroying it. Signer Tombola 
 had endeavoured to persuade us,
 
 tTbe "dppcr JScrtb 
 
 by arguments which we took no 
 trouble to oppose, that the unity 
 of his country in no way resembled 
 the average modern torpedo, care- 
 fully planned, constructed with all 
 the skill of the greatest European 
 arsenals, but, when constructed, 
 destined to be directed by feeble 
 hands into a region where it must 
 undoubtedly explode, unseen, un- 
 feared, and unheard, into the 
 illimitable wastesof political chaos. 
 It is unnecessary to go into 
 further details. The conversation 
 had assumed proportions which 
 would have bored Prometheus on 
 his rock, which would have driven 
 Tantalus to distraction, and which 
 would have impelled Ixion to seek 
 relaxation in the simple but in- 
 structive dialogues of Herr Ollen- 
 dorff, rather than submit to the 
 greater evil of listening to our talk.
 
 Cbe "Upper JBcrtb 
 
 We had sat at table for hours ; we 
 were bored, we were tired, and 
 nobody showed signs of moving. 
 
 Somebody called for cigars. 
 We all instinctively looked tow- 
 ards the speaker. Brisbane was 
 a man of five-and-thirty years of 
 age, and remarkable for those 
 gifts which chiefly attract the 
 attention of men. He was a 
 strong man. The external pro- 
 portions of his figure presented 
 nothing extraordinary to the com- 
 mon eye, though his size was 
 above the average. He was a 
 little over six feet in height, and 
 moderately broad in the shoulder; 
 he did not appear to be stout, but, 
 on the other hand, he was cer- 
 tainly not thin ; his small head was 
 supported by a strong and sinewy 
 neck ; his broad muscular hands 
 appeared to possess a peculiar
 
 TUpper JSertb 
 
 skill in breaking walnuts without 
 the assistance of the ordinary 
 cracker, and, seeing him in profile, 
 one could not help remarking the 
 extraordinary breadth of his 
 sleeves, and the unusual thickness 
 of his chest. He was one of those 
 men who are commonly spoken of 
 among men as deceptive ; that is 
 to say, that though he looked ex- 
 ceedingly strong he was in reality 
 very much stronger than he looked. 
 Of his features I need say little. 
 His head is small, his hair is thin, 
 his eyes are blue, his nose is large, 
 he has a small moustache, and a 
 square jaw. Everybody knows 
 Brisbane, and when he asked 
 for a cigar everybody looked at 
 him. 
 
 " It is a very singular thing," 
 said Brisbane. 
 
 Everybody stopped talking.
 
 "Hipper ;JBertb 
 
 Brisbane's voice was not loud, but 
 possessed a peculiar quality of 
 penetrating general conversation, 
 and cutting it like a knife. Every- 
 body listened. Brisbane, perceiving 
 that he had attracted their general 
 attention, lit his cigar with great 
 equanimity. 
 
 " It is very singular," he con- 
 tinued, " that thing about ghosts. 
 People are always asking whether 
 anybody has seen a ghost. I 
 have." 
 
 " Bosh ! What, you ? You don't 
 mean to say so, Brisbane ? Well, 
 for a man of his intelligence ! " 
 
 A chorus of exclamations 
 greeted Brisbane's remarkable 
 statement. Everybody called for 
 cigars, and Stubbs the butler sud- 
 denly appeared from the depths 
 of nowhere with a fresh bottle of 
 dry champagne. The situation
 
 Cbe Tapper JSertb 
 
 was saved ; Brisbane was going to 
 tell a story. 
 
 I am an old sailor, said Bris- 
 bane, and as I have to cross the 
 Atlantic pretty often, I have my 
 favourites. Most men have their 
 favourites. I have seen a man wait 
 in a Broadway bar for three-quar- 
 ters of an hour for a particular car 
 which he liked. I believe the bar- 
 keeper made at least one-third of 
 his living by that man's preference. 
 I have a habit of waiting for cer- 
 tain ships when I am obliged to 
 cross that duck-pond. It may be a 
 prejudice, but I was never cheated 
 out of a good passage but once in 
 my life. I remember it very well ; 
 it was a warm morning in June, 
 and the Custom House officials, 
 who were hanging about waiting 
 for a steamer already on her way up 
 from the Quarantine, presented a
 
 Tapper JBertb 
 
 peculiarly hazy and thoughtful ap- 
 pearance. I had not much luggage 
 I never have. I mingled with 
 the crowd of passengers, porters, 
 and officious individuals in blue 
 coats and brass buttons, who 
 seemed to spring up like mush- 
 rooms from the deck of a moored 
 steamer to obtrude their unneces- 
 sary services upon the indepen- 
 dent passenger. I have often 
 noticed with a certain interest the 
 spontaneous evolution of these 
 fellows. They are not there when 
 you arrive ; five minutes after the 
 pilot has called " Go ahead ! " 
 they, or at least their blue coats 
 and brass buttons, have disap- 
 peared from deck and gangway 
 as completely as though they had 
 been consigned to that locker 
 which tradition unanimously as- 
 cribes to Davy Jones. But, at the
 
 Tapper 
 
 moment of starting, they are there, 
 clean - shaved, blue -coated, and 
 ravenous for fees. I hastened on 
 board. The Kamtscliatka was one 
 of my favourite ships. I say was, 
 because she emphatically no 
 longer is. I cannot conceive of 
 any inducement which could en- 
 tice me to make another voyage 
 in her. Yes, I know what you are 
 going to say. She is uncommonly 
 clean in the run aft, she has 
 enough bluffing off in the bows to 
 keep her dry, and the lower berths 
 are most of them double. She has 
 a lot of advantages, but I won't 
 cross in her again. Excuse the 
 digression. I got on board. I 
 hailed a steward, whose red nose 
 and redder whiskers were equally 
 familiar to me. 
 
 " One hundred and five, lower 
 berth," said I, in the businesslike
 
 Cbe TUppec JBertb 
 
 tone peculiar to men who think no 
 more of crossing the Atlantic than 
 taking a whisky cocktail at down- 
 town Delmonico's. 
 
 The steward took my portman- 
 teau, great coat, and rug. I shall 
 never forget the expression of his 
 face. Not that he turned pale. 
 It is maintained by the most emi- 
 nent divines that even miracles 
 cannot change the course of nature. 
 I have no hesitation in saying that 
 he did not turn pale ; but, from 
 his expression, I judged that he 
 was either about to shed tears, to 
 sneeze, or to drop my portman- 
 teau. As the latter contained two 
 bottles of particularly fine old 
 sherry presented to me for my 
 voyage by my old friend Sniggin- 
 son van Pickyns, I felt extremely 
 nervous. But the steward did 
 none of these things.
 
 Gbe Tapper JBertb 13 
 
 " Well, I 'm d d ! " said 
 
 he in a low voice, and led the 
 way. 
 
 I supposed my Hermes, as he 
 led me to the lower regions, had 
 had a little grog, but I said noth- 
 ing, and followed him. One hun- 
 dred and five was on the port 
 side, well aft. There was noth- 
 ing remarkable about the state- 
 room. The lower berth, like 
 most of those upon the Kamt- 
 schatka, was double. There was 
 plenty of room ; there was the 
 usual washing apparatus, calcu- 
 lated to convey an idea of luxury 
 to the mind of a North-American 
 Indian ; there were the usual in- 
 efficient racks of brown wood, in 
 which it is more easy to hang a 
 large-sized umbrella than the com- 
 mon tooth-brush of commerce. 
 Upon the uninviting mattresses
 
 14 Cbe Tapper JBertb 
 
 were carefully folded together 
 those blankets which a great mod- 
 ern humorist has aptly compared 
 to cold buckwheat cakes. The 
 question of towels was left entirely 
 to the imagination. The glass 
 decanters were filled with a trans- 
 parent liquid faintly tinged with 
 brown, but from which an odor 
 less faint, but not more pleasing, 
 ascended to the nostrils, like a far- 
 off sea-sick reminiscence of oily 
 machinery. Sad-coloured curtains 
 half-closed the upper berth. The 
 hazy June daylight shed a faint 
 illumination upon the desolate 
 little scene. Ugh ! how I hate 
 that state-room ! 
 
 The steward deposited my traps 
 and looked at me, as though he 
 wanted to get away probably in 
 search of more passengers and 
 more fees. It is always a good
 
 tipper JBertb 15 
 
 plan to start in favour with those 
 functionaries, and I accordingly 
 gave him certain coins there and 
 then. 
 
 " I '11 try and make yer com- 
 fortable all I can," he remarked, 
 as he put the coins in his pocket. 
 Nevertheless, there was a doubt- 
 ful intonation in his voice which 
 surprised me. Possibly his scale 
 of fees had gone up, and he was 
 not satisfied ; but on the whole I 
 was inclined to think that, as he 
 himself would have expressed it, 
 he was " the better for a glass." 
 I was wrong, however, and did the 
 man injustice.
 
 II. 
 
 NOTHING especially worthy 
 of mention occurred during 
 that day. We left the pier punc- 
 tually, and it was very pleasant to 
 be fairly under way, for the weather 
 was warm and sultry, and the 
 motion of the steamer produced 
 a refreshing breeze. Everybody 
 knows what the first day at sea is 
 like. People pace the decks and 
 stare at each other, and occasion- 
 ally meet acquaintances whom 
 they did not know to be on board. 
 There is the usual uncertainty as 
 to whether the food will be good, 
 bad, or indifferent, until the first 
 two meals have put the matter be- 
 16
 
 Tapper JBertb 17 
 
 yond a doubt ; there is the usual 
 uncertainty about the weather, 
 until the ship is fairly off Fire 
 Island. The tables are crowded 
 at first, and then suddenly thinned. 
 Pale-faced people spring from their 
 seats and precipitate themselves 
 towards the door, and each old 
 sailor breathes more freely as his 
 sea-sick neighbour rushes from his 
 side, leaving him plenty of elbow 
 room and an unlimited command 
 over the mustard. 
 
 One passage across the Atlantic 
 is very much like another, and we 
 who cross very often do not make 
 the voyage for the sake of novelty. 
 Whales and icebergs are indeed 
 always objects of interest, but, 
 after all, one whale is very much 
 like another whale, and one rarely 
 sees an iceberg at close quarters. 
 To the majority of us the most
 
 is Gbe THpper JBcrtb 
 
 delightful moment of the day on 
 board an ocean steamer is when 
 we have taken our last turn on 
 deck, have smoked our last cigar, 
 and having succeeded in tiring our- 
 selves, feel at liberty to turn in 
 with a clear conscience. On that 
 first night of the voyage I felt par- 
 ticularly lazy, and went to bed in 
 one hundred and five rather earlier 
 than I usually do. As I turned in, 
 I was amazed to see that I was to 
 have a companion. A portman- 
 teau, very like my own, lay in the 
 opposite corner, and in the upper 
 berth had been deposited a neatly 
 folded rug with a stick and um- 
 brella. I had hoped to be alone, 
 and I was disappointed ; but I 
 wondered who my room-mate was 
 to be, and I determined to have 
 a look at him. 
 
 Before I had been long in bed
 
 THpper JBertb 19 
 
 he entered. He was, as far as I 
 could see, a very tall man, very 
 thin, very pale, with sandy hair 
 and whiskers and colourless grey 
 eyes. He had about him, I 
 thought, an air of rather dubious 
 fashion ; the sort of man you 
 might see in Wall Street, without 
 being able precisely to say what 
 he was doing there the sort of 
 man who frequents the Caf6 
 Anglais, who always seems to be 
 alone and who drinks champagne ; 
 you might meet him on a race- 
 course, but he would never appear 
 to be doing anything there either. 
 A little over-dressed a little odd. 
 There are three or four of his kind 
 on every ocean steamer. I made 
 up my mind that I did not care to 
 make his acquaintance, and I went 
 to sleep saying to myself that I 
 would study his habits in order to
 
 20 Gbe Upper JBertb 
 
 avoid him. If he rose early, I 
 would rise late ; if he went to bed 
 late, I would go to bed early. I 
 did not care to know him. If you 
 once know people of that kind 
 they are always turning up. Poor 
 fellow ! I need not have taken the 
 trouble to come to so many deci- 
 sions about him, for I never saw 
 him again after that first night in 
 one hundred and five. 
 
 I was sleeping soundly when I 
 was suddenly waked by a loud 
 noise. To judge from the sound, 
 my room-mate must have sprung 
 with a single leap from the upper 
 berth to the floor. I heard him 
 fumbling with the latch and bolt 
 of the door, which opened almost 
 immediately, and then I heard his 
 footsteps as he ran at full speed 
 down the passage, leaving the door 
 open behind him. The ship was
 
 "Glpper JBertb 
 
 rolling a little, and I expected to 
 hear him stumble or fall, but he 
 ran as though he were running for 
 his life. The door swung on its 
 hinges with the motion of the ves- 
 sel, and the sound annoyed me. I 
 got up and shut it, and groped my 
 way back to my berth in the dark- 
 ness. I went to sleep again ; but 
 I have no idea how long I slept. 
 
 When I awoke it was still quite 
 dark, but I felt a disagreeable sen- 
 sation of cold, and it seemed to me 
 that the air was damp. You know 
 the peculiar smell of a cabin which 
 has been wet with sea water. I 
 covered myself up as well as I 
 could and dozed off again, framing 
 complaints to be made the next 
 day, and selecting the most power- 
 ful epithets in the language. I 
 could hear my room-mate turn 
 over in the upper berth. He had
 
 22 abe Tapper JBertb 
 
 probably returned while I was 
 asleep. Once I thought I heard 
 him groan, and I argued that he 
 was sea-sick. That is particularly 
 unpleasant when one is below. 
 Nevertheless I dozed off and slept 
 till early daylight. 
 
 The ship was rolling heavily, 
 much more than on the previous 
 evening, and the grey light which 
 came in through the porthole 
 changed in tint with every move- 
 ment according as the angle of 
 the vessel's side turned the glass 
 seawards or skywards. It was 
 very cold unaccountably so for 
 the month of June. I turned my 
 head and looked at the porthole, 
 and saw to my surprise that it was 
 wide open and hooked back. I be- 
 lieve I swore audibly. Then I got 
 up and shut it. As I turned back I 
 glanced at the upper berth. The
 
 THpper JBertb 23 
 
 curtains were drawn close to- 
 gether ; my companion had prob- 
 ably felt cold as well as I. It 
 struck me that I had slept enough. 
 The state-room was uncomforta- 
 ble, though, strange to say, I could 
 not smell the dampness which had 
 annoyed me in the night. My 
 roorn-mate was still asleep excel- 
 lent opportunity for avoiding him, 
 so I dressed at once and went on 
 deck. The day was warm and 
 cloudy, with an oily smell on the 
 water. It was seven o'clock as I 
 came out much later than I had 
 imagined. I came across the doc- 
 tor, who was taking his first sniff 
 of the morning air. He was a 
 young man from the West of 
 Ireland a tremendous fellow, 
 with black hair and blue eyes, 
 already inclined to be stout ; he 
 had a happy-go-lucky, healthy look
 
 24 Cbe tapper 36ertb 
 
 about him which was rather at- 
 tractive. 
 
 " Fine morning," I remarked, 
 by way of introduction. 
 
 " Well," said he, eying me with 
 an air of ready interest, " it 's a 
 fine morning and it 's not a fine 
 morning. I don't think it 's much 
 of a morning." 
 
 " Well, no it is not so very 
 fine," said I. 
 
 " It 's just what I call fuggly 
 weather," replied the doctor. 
 
 " It was very cold last night, I 
 thought," I remarked. " How- 
 ever, when I looked about, I found 
 that the porthole was wide open. I 
 had not noticed it when I went 
 to bed. And the state-room \vas 
 damp, too." 
 
 " Damp ! " said he. " Where- 
 abouts are you ? " 
 
 "One hundred and five "
 
 THpper JBertb 25 
 
 To my surprise the doctor 
 started visibly, and stared at me. 
 
 " What is the matter ? " I asked. 
 
 "Oh nothing," he answered; 
 " only everybody has complained 
 of that state-room for the last 
 three trips." 
 
 " I shall complain too," I said. 
 " It has certainly not been properly 
 aired. It is a shame ! " 
 
 " I don't believe it can be 
 helped," answered the doctor. " I 
 believe there is something -- 
 well, it is not my business to 
 frighten passengers." 
 
 " You need not be afraid of 
 frightening me," I replied. " I can 
 stand any amount of damp. If I 
 should get a bad cold I will come 
 to you." 
 
 I offered the doctor a cigar, 
 which he took and examined very 
 critically.
 
 26 abe TUpper JBertb 
 
 " It is not so much the damp," 
 he remarked. " However, I dare 
 say you will get on very well. Have 
 you a room-mate ? " 
 
 " Yes ; a deuce of a fellow, who 
 bolts out in the middle of the night 
 and leaves the door open." 
 
 Again the doctor glanced curi- 
 ously at me. Then he lit the cigar 
 and looked grave. 
 
 " Did he come back ? " he asked 
 presently. 
 
 " Yes. I was asleep, but I 
 waked up and heard him moving. 
 Then I felt cold and went to sleep 
 again. This morning I found the 
 porthole open." 
 
 " Look here," said the doctor, 
 quietly, " I don't care much for 
 this ship. I don't care a rap for 
 her reputation. I tell you what I 
 will do. I have a good-sized place 
 up here. I will share it with you,
 
 Che tapper JSertb 27 
 
 though I don't know you from 
 Adam." 
 
 I was very much surprised at 
 the proposition. I could not im- 
 agine why he should take such a 
 sudden interest in my welfare. 
 However, his manner as he spoke 
 of the ship was peculiar. 
 
 " You are very good, doctor," I 
 said. " But really, I believe even 
 now the cabin could be aired, or 
 cleaned out, or something. Why 
 do you not care for the ship ? " 
 
 " We are not superstitious in our 
 profession, sir," replied the doctor. 
 " But the sea makes people so. I 
 don't want to prejudice you, and 
 I don't want to frighten you, but 
 if you will take my advice you will 
 move in here. I would as soon see 
 you overboard, "he added, "as know 
 that you or any other man was to 
 sleep in one hundred and five."
 
 28 Cbe Tapper JBertb 
 
 "Good gracious! Why?" I 
 asked. 
 
 " Just because on the last three 
 trips the people who have slept 
 there actually have gone over- 
 board," he answered, gravely. 
 
 The intelligence was startling 
 and exceedingly unpleasant, I con- 
 fess. I looked hard at the doctor 
 to see whether he was making 
 game of me, but he looked per- 
 fectly serious. I thanked him 
 warmly for his offer, but told him 
 I intended to be the exception to 
 the rule by which every one who 
 slept in that particular state-room 
 went overboard. He did not say 
 much, but looked as grave as ever, 
 and hinted that before we got 
 across I should probably reconsider 
 his proposal. In the course of 
 time we went to breakfast, at which 
 only an inconsiderable number of
 
 Tapper JBertb 29 
 
 passengers assembled. I noticed 
 that one or two of the officers who 
 breakfasted with us looked grave. 
 After breakfast I went into my 
 state-room in order to get a book. 
 The curtains of the upper berth 
 were still closely drawn. Not a 
 word was to be heard. My room- 
 mate was probably still asleep. 
 
 As I came out I met the steward 
 whose business it was to look after 
 me. He whispered that the cap- 
 tain wanted to see me, and then 
 scuttled away down the passage as 
 if very anxious to avoid any ques- 
 tions. I went toward the captain's 
 cabin, and found him waiting for 
 me. 
 
 " Sir," said he, " I want to ask 
 a favour of you." 
 
 I answered that I would do any- 
 thing to oblige him. 
 
 " Your room-mate has disap-
 
 30 Cbe "Hipper JScrtb 
 
 pearcd," he said. " He is known 
 to have turned in early last night. 
 Did you notice anything extraor- 
 dinary in his manner?" 
 
 The question coming, as it did, 
 in exact confirmation of the fears 
 the doctor had expressed half an 
 hour earlier, staggered me. 
 
 " You don't mean to say he has 
 gone overboard ? " I asked. 
 
 " I fear he has," answered the 
 captain. 
 
 " This is the most extraordinary 
 thing " I began. 
 
 "Why?" he asked. 
 
 " He is the fourth, then ? " I 
 explained. In answer to another 
 question from the captain, I ex- 
 plained, without mentioning the 
 doctor, that I had heard the story 
 concerning one hundred and five. 
 He seemed very much annoyed at 
 hearingthat I knewof it. I told him 
 what had occurred in the night.
 
 tlbe TUpper SSertb 31 
 
 " What you say," he replied, 
 " coincides almost exactly with 
 what was told me by the room- 
 mates of two of the other three. 
 They bolt out of bed and run 
 down the passage. Two of them 
 were seen to go overboard by the 
 watch ; we stopped and lowered 
 boats, bu-t they were not found. 
 Nobody, however, saw or heard 
 the man who was lost last night 
 if he is really lost. The steward, 
 who is a superstitious fellow, per- 
 haps, and expected something to 
 go wrong, went to look for him 
 this morning, and found his berth 
 empty, but his clothes lying about, 
 just as he had left them. The 
 steward was the only man on board 
 who knew him by sight, and he 
 has been searching everywhere for 
 him. He has disappeared ! Now, 
 sir, I want to beg you not to men- 
 tion the circumstance to any of
 
 32 ttbe THpper JBertb 
 
 the passengers ; I don't want the 
 ship to get a bad name, and 
 nothing hangs about an ocean- 
 goer like stories of suicides. You 
 shall have your choice of any one 
 of the officers' cabins you like, 
 including my own, for the rest of 
 the passage. Is that a fair bar- 
 gain ? " 
 
 " Very," said I ; " and I am 
 much obliged to you. But since 
 I am alone, and have the state- 
 room to myself, I would rather 
 not move. If the steward will 
 take out that unfortunate man's 
 things, I would as leave stay where 
 I am. I will not say anything 
 about the matter, and I think I 
 can promise you that I will not 
 follow my room-mate." 
 
 The captain tried to dissuade 
 me from my intention, but I pre- 
 ferred having a state-room alone
 
 TUpper JBertb 33 
 
 to being the chum of any officer 
 on board. I do not know whether 
 I acted foolishly, but if I had 
 taken his advice I should have 
 had nothing more to tell. There 
 would have remained the disagree- 
 able coincidence of several suicides 
 occurring among men who had 
 slept in the same cabin, but that 
 would have been all. 
 
 That was not the end of the 
 matter, however, by any means. 
 I obstinately made up my mind 
 that I would not be disturbed by 
 such tales, and I even went so far 
 as to argue the question with the 
 captain. There was something 
 wrong about the state-room, I 
 said. It was rather damp. The 
 porthole had been left open last 
 night. My room-mate might 
 have been ill when he came on 
 board, and he might have become
 
 34 Gbe tipper SSertb 
 
 delirious after he went to bed. 
 He might even now be hiding 
 somewhere on board, and might 
 be found later. The place ought 
 to be aired and the fastening of 
 the port looked to. If the captain 
 would give me leave, I would see 
 that what I thought necessary 
 were done immediately. 
 
 " Of course you have a right to 
 stay where you are if you please," 
 he replied, rather petulantly ; " but 
 I wish you would turn out and let 
 me lock the place up, and be done 
 with it." 
 
 I did not see it in the same 
 light, and left the captain, after 
 promising to be silent concerning 
 the disappearance of my com- 
 panion. The latter had had no 
 acquaintances on board, and was 
 not missed in the course of the 
 day. Towards evening I met the
 
 tipper JBertb 35 
 
 doctor again, and he asked me 
 whether I had changed my mind. 
 I told him I had not. 
 
 " Then you will before long," 
 he said, very gravely.
 
 III. 
 
 WE played whist in the even- 
 ing, and I went to bed 
 late. I will confess now that I 
 felt a disagreeable sensation when 
 I entered my state-room. I could 
 not help thinking of the tall man 
 I had seen on the previous night, 
 who was now dead, drowned, toss- 
 ing about in the long swell, two or 
 three hundred miles astern. His 
 face rose very distinctly before me 
 as I undressed, and I even went 
 so far as to draw back the curtains 
 of the upper berth, as though to 
 persuade myself that he was actu- 
 ally gone. I also bolted the door 
 of the state-room. Suddenly I 
 36
 
 Tapper ascrtb 37 
 
 became aware that the porthole 
 was open, and fastened back. 
 This was more than I could stand. 
 I hastily threw on my dressing- 
 gown and went in search of 
 Robert, the steward of my pas- 
 sage. I was very angry, I remem- 
 ber, and when I found him I 
 dragged him roughly to the door 
 of onehundred and five, and pushed 
 him towards the open porthole. 
 
 " What the deuce do you mean, 
 you scoundrel, by leaving that 
 port open every night ? Don't 
 you know it is against the regula- 
 tions ? Don't you know that if 
 the ship heeled and the water be- 
 gan to come in, ten men could not 
 shut it ? I will report you to the 
 captain, you blackguard, for en- 
 dangering the ship ! " 
 
 I was exceedingly wroth. The 
 man trembled and turned pale,
 
 38 Cbe "dpper JBertb 
 
 and then began to shut the round 
 glass plate with the heavy brass 
 fittings. 
 
 " Why don't you answer me?" 
 I said, roughly. 
 
 " If you please, sir," faltered 
 Robert, " there 's nobody on board 
 as can keep this 'ere port shut at 
 night. You can try it yourself, 
 sir. I ain't a-going to stop hany 
 longer on board o' this vessel, sir ; 
 I ain't, indeed. But if I was you, 
 sir, I 'd just clear out and go and 
 sleep with the surgeon, or some- 
 thing, I would. Look 'ere, sir, is 
 that fastened what you may call 
 securely, or not, sir ? Try it, sir, 
 see if it will move a hinch." 
 
 I tried the port, and found it 
 perfectly tight. 
 
 " Well, sir," continued Robert, 
 triumphantly, " I wager my repu- 
 tation as a A i steward, that in 'arf
 
 Cbe tapper JSertb 39 
 
 an hour it will be open again ; 
 fastened back, too, sir, that 's the 
 horful thing fastened back ! " 
 
 I examined the great screw and 
 the looped nut that ran on it. 
 
 " If I find it open in the night, 
 Robert, I will give you a sover- 
 eign. It is not possible. You 
 may go.'-' 
 
 " Soverin' did you say, sir? 
 Very good, sir. Thank ye, sir. 
 Good night, sir. Pleasant reepose, 
 sir, and all manner of hinchantin' 
 dreams, sir." 
 
 Robert scuttled away, delighted 
 at being released. Of course, I 
 thought he was trying to account 
 for his negligence by a silly story, 
 intended to frighten me, and I 
 disbelieved him. The consequence 
 was that he got his sovereign, and 
 I spent a very peculiarly unpleas- 
 ant night.
 
 40 abe tnpper JScrtb 
 
 I went to bed, and five minutes 
 after I had rolled myself up in my 
 blankets the inexorable Robert 
 extinguished the light that burned 
 steadily behind the ground-glass 
 pane near the door. I lay quite 
 still in the dark trying to go to 
 sleep, but I soon found that im- 
 possible. It had been some satis- 
 faction to be angry with the 
 steward, and the diversion had 
 banished that unpleasant sensation 
 I had at first experienced when I 
 thought of the drowned man who 
 had been my chum ; but I was no 
 longer sleepy, and I lay awake for 
 some time, occasionally glancing 
 at the porthole, which I could just 
 see from where I lay, and which, 
 in the darkness, looked like a 
 faintly-luminous soup-plate sus- 
 pended in blackness. I believe I 
 must have lain there for an hour,
 
 TUpper 3Bertb 41 
 
 and, as I remember, I was just 
 dozing into sleep when I was 
 roused by a draught of cold air 
 and by distinctly feeling the spray 
 of the sea blown upon my face. I 
 started to my feet, and not having 
 allowed in the dark for the motion 
 of the ship, I was instantly thrown 
 violently across the state-room 
 upon the couch which was placed 
 beneath the porthole. I recovered 
 myself immediately, however, and 
 climbed upon my knees. The 
 porthole was again wide open and 
 fastened back ! 
 
 Now these things are facts. I 
 was wide awake when I got up, 
 and I should certainly have been 
 waked by the fall had I still been 
 dozing. Moreover, I bruised my 
 elbows and knees badly, and the 
 bruises were there on the following 
 morning to testify to the fact, if I
 
 42 be Tapper 3Bertb 
 
 myself had doubted it. The port- 
 hole was wide open and fastened 
 back a thing so unaccountable 
 that I remember very well feeling 
 astonishment rather than fear 
 when I discovered it. I at once 
 closed the plate again and screwed 
 down the loop nut with all my 
 strength. It was very dark in the 
 state-room. I reflected that the 
 port had certainly been opened 
 within an hour after Robert had 
 at first shut it in my presence, and 
 I determined to watch it and see 
 whether it would open again. 
 Those brass fittings are very heavy 
 and by no means easy to move ; 
 I could not believe that the clump 
 had been turned by the shaking 
 of the screw. I stood peering out 
 through the thick glass at the al- 
 ternate white and grey streaks of 
 the sea that foamed beneath the
 
 "tapper JBertb 43 
 
 ship's side. I must have remained 
 there a quarter of an hour. 
 
 Suddenly, as I stood, I distinctly 
 heard something moving behind 
 me in one of the berths, and a 
 moment afterwards, just as I 
 turned instinctively to look 
 though I could, of course, see 
 nothing in the darkness I heard 
 a very faint groan. I sprang 
 across the state-room, and tore the 
 curtains of the upper berth aside, 
 thrusting in my hands to discover 
 if there were any one there. 
 There was some one. 
 
 I remember that the sensation 
 as I put my hands forward was as 
 though I were plunging them into 
 the air of a damp cellar, and from 
 behind the curtain came a gust of 
 wind that smelled horribly of stag- 
 nant sea-water. I laid hold of 
 something that had the shape of
 
 44 Cbc Tapper JSertb 
 
 a man's arm, but was smooth, and 
 wet, and icy cold. But suddenly, 
 as I pulled, the creature sprang 
 violently forward against me, a 
 clammy, oozy mass, as it seemed 
 to me, heavy and wet, yet en- 
 dowed with a sort of supernatural 
 strength. I reeled across the 
 state-room, and in an instant the 
 door opened and the thing rushed 
 out. I had not had time to be 
 frightened, and quickly recovering 
 myself, I sprang through the door 
 and gave chase at the top of my 
 speed, but I was too late. Ten 
 yards before me I could see I 
 am sure I saw it a dark shadow 
 moving in the dimly lighted pas- 
 sage, quickly as the shadow of a 
 fast horse thrown before a dog- 
 cart by the lamp on a dark night. 
 But in a moment it had disap- 
 peared, and I found myself hold-
 
 tTbe tapper JScrtb 45 
 
 ing on to the polished rail that 
 ran along the bulkhead where the 
 passage turned towards the com- 
 panion. My hair stood on end, 
 and the cold perspiration rolled 
 down my face. I am not ashamed 
 of it in the least : I was very badly 
 frightened. 
 
 Still I doubted my senses, and 
 pulled myself together. It was 
 absurd, I thought. The Welsh 
 rare-bit I had eaten had disagreed 
 with me. I had been in a night- 
 mare. I made my way back to 
 my state-room, and entered it 
 with an effort. The whole place 
 smelled of stagnant sea-water, as 
 it had when I had waked on the 
 previous evening. It required my 
 utmost strength to go in and 
 grope among my things for a box 
 of wax lights. As I lighted a 
 railway reading lantern which I
 
 46 Cbe Tapper JBertb 
 
 always carry in case I want to 
 read after the lamps are out, I 
 perceived that the porthole was 
 again open, and a sort of creeping 
 horror began to take possession of 
 me which I never felt before, nor 
 wish to feel again. But I got a 
 light and proceeded to examine 
 the upper berth, expecting to find 
 it drenched with sea-water. 
 
 But I was disappointed. The 
 bed had been slept in, and the 
 smell of the sea was strong ; but 
 the bedding was as dry as a bone. 
 I fancied that Robert had not had 
 the courage to make the bed after 
 the accident of the previous night 
 it had all been a hideous dream. 
 I drew the curtains back as far as 
 I could and examined the place 
 very carefully. It was perfectly 
 dry. But the porthole was open 
 again. With a sort of dull be-
 
 Gbe THpper 3Bertb 47 
 
 wilderment of horror, I closed it 
 and screwed it down, and thrust- 
 ing my heavy stick through the 
 brass loop, wrenched it with all 
 my might, till the thick metal 
 began to bend under the pressure. 
 Then I hooked my reading lantern 
 into the red velvet at the head of 
 the couch, and sat down to re- 
 cover my senses if I could. I sat 
 there all night, unable to think of 
 rest hardly able to think at all. 
 But the porthole remained closed, 
 and I did not believe it would 
 now open again without the appli- 
 cation of a considerable force. 
 
 The morning dawned at last, 
 and I dressed myself slowly, 
 thinking over all that had hap- 
 pened in the night. It was a 
 beautiful day and I went on deck, 
 glad to get out in the early, pure 
 sunshine, and to smell the breeze
 
 48 be Tapper JSertb 
 
 from the blue water, so different 
 from the noisome, stagnant odour 
 from my state-room. Instinc- 
 tively I turned aft, towards the 
 surgeon's cabin. There he stood, 
 with a pipe in his mouth, taking 
 his morning airing precisely as on 
 the preceding day. 
 
 " Good -morning," said he, 
 quietly, but looking at me with 
 evident curiosity. 
 
 " Doctor, you were quite right," 
 said I. " There is something 
 wrong about that place." 
 
 " I thought you would change 
 your mind," he answered, rather 
 triumphantly. " You have had a 
 bad night, eh ? Shall I make you 
 a pick-me-up ? I have a capital 
 recipe." 
 
 " No, thanks," I cried. " But 
 I would like to tell you what 
 happened."
 
 Tapper JBertb 49 
 
 I then tried to explain as clearly 
 as possible precisely what had oc- 
 curred, not omitting to state that 
 I had been scared as I had never 
 been scared in my whole life be- 
 fore. I dwelt particularly on the 
 phenomenon of the porthole, 
 which was a fact to which I could 
 testify, even if the rest had been 
 an illusion. I had closed it twice 
 in the night, and the second time 
 I had actually bent the brass in 
 wrenching it with my stick. I be- 
 lieve I insisted a good deal on this 
 point. 
 
 " You seem to think I am likely 
 to doubt the story," said the 
 doctor, smiling at the detailed 
 account of the state of the port- 
 hole. " I do not doubt it in the 
 least. I renew my invitation to 
 you. Bring your traps here, and 
 take half my cabin." 
 
 4
 
 50 Sbe TUpper JBcrtb 
 
 " Come and take half of mine 
 for one night," I said. " Help 
 me to get at the bottom of this 
 thing." 
 
 " You will get to the bottom 
 of something else if you try," 
 answered the doctor. 
 
 " What ? " I asked. 
 
 " The bottom of the sea. I am 
 going to leave the ship. It is not 
 canny." 
 
 " Then you will not help me to 
 find out 
 
 " Not I," said the doctor, 
 quickly. " It is my business to 
 keep my wits about me not to 
 go fiddling about with ghosts and 
 things." 
 
 " Do you really believe it is a 
 ghost ? " I inquired, rather con- 
 temptuously. But as I spoke I 
 remembered very well the horri- 
 ble sensation of the supernatural
 
 inpper JSSertb 51 
 
 which had got possession of me 
 during the night. The doctor 
 turned sharply on me 
 
 " Have you any reasonable ex- 
 planation of these things to 
 offer?" he asked. " No ; you 
 have not. Well, you say you will 
 find an explanation. I say that 
 you won't, sir, simply because 
 there is not any." 
 
 " But, my dear sir," I retorted, 
 " do you, a man of science, mean 
 to tell me that such things cannot 
 be explained ? " 
 
 " I do," he answered, stoutly. 
 "And, if they could, I would not 
 be concerned in the explanation." 
 
 I did not care to spend another 
 night alone in the state-room, and 
 yet I was obstinately determined 
 to get at the root of the disturb- 
 ances. I do not believe there are 
 many men who would have slept
 
 52 Cbc Tapper JBertb 
 
 there alone, after passing two such 
 nights. But I made up my mind 
 to try it, if I could not get any 
 one to share a watch with me. 
 The doctor was evidently not in- 
 clined for such an experiment. 
 He said he was a surgeon, and that 
 in case any accident occurred on 
 board'he must always be in readi- 
 ness. He could not afford to have 
 his nerves unsettled. Perhaps he 
 was quite right, but I am inclined 
 to think that his precaution was 
 prompted by his inclination. On 
 inquiry, he informed me that there 
 was no one on board who would 
 be likely to join me in my investi- 
 gations, and after a little more 
 conversation I left him. A little 
 later I met the captain, and told 
 him my story. I said that if no one 
 would spend the night with me I 
 would ask leave to have the light
 
 Tapper ^Sertb 53 
 
 burning all night, and would try it 
 alone. 
 
 " Look here," said he, " I will 
 tell you what I will do. I will 
 share your watch myself, and we 
 will see what happens. It is my 
 belief that we can find out between 
 us. There may be some fellow 
 skulking on board, who steals a 
 passage by frightening the passen- 
 gers. It is just possible that there 
 may be something queer in the 
 carpentering of that berth." 
 
 I suggested taking the ship's 
 carpenter below and examining 
 the place ; but I was overjoyed at 
 the captain's offer to spend the 
 night with me. He accordingly 
 sent for the workman and ordered 
 him to do anything I required. 
 We went below at once. I had 
 all the bedding cleared out of the 
 upper berth, and we examined the
 
 54 be "dpper ffiertb 
 
 place thoroughly to see if there 
 was a board loose anywhere, or a 
 panel which could be opened or 
 pushed aside. We tried the planks 
 everywhere, tapped the flooring, 
 unscrewed the fittings of the lower 
 berth and took it to pieces in 
 short, there was not a square inch 
 of the state-room which was not 
 searched and tested. Everything 
 was in perfect order, and we put 
 everything back in its place. As 
 we were finishing our work, Rob- 
 ert came to the door and looked 
 in. 
 
 " Well, sir find anything, sir ? " 
 he asked with a ghastly grin. 
 
 " You were right about the port- 
 hole, Robert," I said, and I gave 
 him the promised sovereign. The 
 carpenter did his work silently and 
 skilfully, following my directions. 
 When he had done he spoke.
 
 tipper JBertb 55 
 
 " I 'm a plain man, sir," he said. 
 " But it 's my belief you had bet- 
 ter just turn out your things and 
 let me run half a dozen four inch 
 screws through the door of this 
 cabin. There 's no good never 
 came o' this cabin yet, sir, and 
 that 's all about it. There 's been 
 four lives lost out o' here to my 
 own remembrance, and that in four 
 trips. Better give it up, sir bet- 
 ter give it up ! " 
 
 " I will try it for one night 
 more," I said. 
 
 " Better give it up, sir better 
 give it up ! It 's a precious bad 
 job," repeated the workman, put- 
 ting his tools in his bag and leav- 
 ing the cabin. 
 
 But my spirits had risen consid- 
 erably at the prospect of having 
 the captain's company, and I made 
 up my mind not to be prevented
 
 56 Gbe "flipper JSertb 
 
 from going to the end of the 
 strange business. I abstained 
 from Welsh rare-bits and grog that 
 evening, and did not even join in 
 the customary game of whist. I 
 wanted to be quite sure of my 
 nerves, and my vanity made me 
 anxious to make a good figure in 
 the captain's eyes.
 
 IV. 
 
 THE captain was one of those 
 splendidly tough and cheer- 
 ful specimens of seafaring human- 
 ity whose combined courage, hard- 
 ihood, and calmness in difficulty 
 leads them naturally into high 
 positions of trust. He was not 
 the man to be led away by an 
 idle tale, and the mere fact that 
 he was willing to join me in the 
 investigation was proof that he 
 thought there was something se- 
 riously wrong, which could not 
 be accounted for on ordinary 
 theories, nor laughed down as a 
 common superstition. To some 
 extent, too, his reputation was at 
 57
 
 58 Cbe Tapper JBertb 
 
 stake, as well as the reputation of 
 the ship. It is no light thing to 
 lose passengers overboard, and he 
 knew it. 
 
 About ten o'clock that evening, 
 as I was smoking a last cigar, he 
 came up to me and drew me aside 
 from the beat of the other passen- 
 gers who were patrolling the deck 
 in the warm darkness. 
 
 " This is a serious matter, Mr. 
 Brisbane," he said. " We must 
 make up our minds either way 
 to be disappointed or to have a 
 pretty rough time of it. You see, 
 I cannot afford to laugh at the 
 affair, and I will ask you to sign 
 your name to a statement of what- 
 ever occurs. If nothing happens 
 to-night we will try it again to- 
 morrow and next dav. Are you 
 ready ? " 
 
 So we went below, and entered
 
 Gbe "dpper JBcrtb 59 
 
 the state-room. As we went in I 
 could see Robert the steward, who 
 stood a little further down the 
 passage, watching us, with his 
 usual grin, as though certain that 
 something dreadful was about to 
 happen. The captain closed the 
 door behind us and bolted it. 
 
 " Supposing we put your port- 
 manteau before the door," he 
 suggested. " One of us can sit on 
 it. Nothing can get out then. Is 
 the port screwed down ? " 
 
 I found it as I had left it in the 
 morning. Indeed, without using 
 a lever, as I had done, no one 
 could have opened it. I drew back 
 the curtains of the upper berth so 
 that I could see well into it. By 
 the captain's advice I lighted my 
 reading-lantern, and placed it so 
 that it shone upon the white sheets 
 above. He insisted upon sitting
 
 60 abe "Upper JBertb 
 
 on the portmanteau, declaring that 
 he wished to be able to swear that 
 he had sat before the door. 
 
 Then he requested me to search 
 the state-room thoroughly, an op- 
 eration very soon accomplished, as 
 it consisted merely in looking be- 
 neath the lower berth and under 
 the couch below the porthole. 
 The spaces were quite empty. 
 
 " It is impossible for any human 
 being to get in," I said, " or for 
 any human being to open the 
 port." 
 
 " Very good," said the captain, 
 calmly. "If we see anything now, 
 it must be either imagination or 
 something supernatural." 
 
 I sat down on the edge of the 
 lower berth. 
 
 " The first time it happened," 
 said the captain, crossing his legs 
 and leaning back against the door,
 
 "Qlppcr JBertb 61 
 
 " was in March. The passenger 
 who slept here, in the upper berth, 
 turned out to have been a lunatic 
 at all events, he was known to 
 have been a little touched, and he 
 had taken his passage without the 
 knowledge of his friends. He 
 rushed out in the middle of the 
 night, and threw himself over- 
 board, before the officer who had 
 the watch could stop him. We 
 stopped and lowered a boat ; it 
 was a quiet night, just before that 
 heavy weather came on ; but we 
 could not find him. Of course his 
 suicide was afterwards accounted 
 for on the ground of his insanity." 
 
 " I suppose that often hap- 
 pens ? " I remarked, rather ab- 
 sently. 
 
 " Not often no," said the cap- 
 tain ;." never before in my expe- 
 rience, though I have heard of it
 
 62 Cbe Tapper JBertb 
 
 happening on board of other ships. 
 Well, as I was saying, that occurred 
 in March. On the very next trip 
 What are you looking at ? " 
 he asked, stopping suddenly in his 
 narration. 
 
 I believe I gave no answer. My 
 eyes were riveted upon the port- 
 hole. It seemed to me that the 
 brass loop-nut was beginning to 
 turn very slowly upon the screw 
 so slowly, however, that I was not 
 sure it moved at all. I watched it 
 intently, fixing its position in my 
 mind, and trying to ascertain 
 whether it changed. Seeing where 
 I was looking, the captain looked 
 too. 
 
 " It moves ! " he exclaimed, in a 
 tone of conviction. " Xo, it does 
 not," he added, after a minute. 
 
 " If it were the jarring of the 
 screw," said I, " it would have
 
 Cbe Tapper asertb 63 
 
 opened during the day ; but I 
 found it this evening jammed tight 
 as I left it this morning." 
 
 I rose and tried the nut. It was 
 certainly loosened, for by an effort 
 I could move it with my hands. 
 
 " The queer thing," said the cap- 
 tain? " is that the second man who 
 was lost is supposed to have got 
 through that very port. We had 
 a terrible time over it. It was in 
 the middle of the night, and the 
 weather was very heavy ; there 
 was an alarm that one of the ports 
 was open and the sea running in. 
 I came below and found every- 
 thing flooded, the water pouring 
 in every time she rolled, and the 
 whole port swinging from the top 
 bolts not the porthole in the 
 middle. Well, we managed to 
 shut it, but the water did some 
 damage. Ever since that the
 
 64 be "Upper JBertb 
 
 place smells of sea-water from 
 time to time. We supposed the 
 passenger had thrown himself out, 
 though the Lord only knows how 
 he did it. The steward kept tell- 
 ing me that he could not keep any- 
 thing shut here. Upon my word 
 I can smell it now, cannot 
 you?" he inquired, sniffing the 
 air suspiciously. 
 
 " Yes distinctly," I said, and I 
 shuddered as that same odour of 
 stagnant sea-water grew stronger 
 in the cabin. " Now, to smell 
 like this, the place must be damp," 
 I continued, " and yet when I ex- 
 amined it with the carpenter this 
 morning everything was perfectly 
 dry. It is most extraordinary 
 hallo ! " 
 
 My reading-lantern, which had 
 been placed in the upper berth, 
 was suddenly extinguished. There
 
 Tapper JBertb 65 
 
 was still a good deal of light from 
 the pane of ground glass near the 
 door, behind which loomed the 
 regulation lamp. The ship rolled 
 heavily, and the curtain of the 
 upper berth swung far out into 
 the state-room and back again. I 
 rose quickly from my seat on the 
 edge of the bed, and the captain 
 at the same moment started to his 
 feet with a loud cry of surprise. I 
 had turned with the intention of 
 taking down the lantern to ex- 
 amine it, when I heard his excla- 
 mation, and immediately after- 
 wards his call for help. I sprang 
 towards him. He was wrestling 
 with all his might, with the brass 
 loop of the port. It seemed to 
 turn against his hands in spite of 
 all his efforts. I caught up my 
 cane, a heavy oak stick I always 
 used to carry, and thrust it through 
 
 5
 
 66 cbe tapper 36ertb 
 
 the ring and bore on it with all 
 my strength. But the strong 
 wood snapped suddenly, and I fell 
 upon the couch. When I rose 
 again the port was wide open, and 
 the captain was standing with his 
 back against the door, pale to the 
 lips. 
 
 " There is something in that 
 berth ! " he cried, in a strange 
 voice, his eyes almost starting 
 from his head. " Hold the door, 
 while I look it shall not escape 
 us, whatever it is ! " 
 
 But instead of taking his place, 
 I sprang upon the lower bed, and 
 seized something which lay in the 
 upper berth. 
 
 It was something ghostly, horri- 
 ble beyond words, and it moved 
 in my grip. It was like the body 
 of a man long drowned, and yet it 
 moved, and had the strength of
 
 Gbe Tapper 3Bertb 67 
 
 ten men living ; but I gripped it 
 with all my might the slippery, 
 oozy, horrible thing. The dead 
 white eyes seemed to stare at me 
 out of the dusk ; the putrid odour 
 of rank sea-water was about it, and 
 its shiny hair hung in foul wet 
 curls over its dead face. I wrestled 
 with the' dead thing; it thrust it- 
 self upon me and forced me back 
 and nearly broke my arms ; it 
 wound its corpse's arms about my 
 neck, the living death, and over- 
 powered me, so that I, at last, 
 cried aloud and fell, and left my 
 hold. 
 
 As I fell the thing sprang across 
 me, and seemed to throw itself 
 upon the captain. When I last 
 saw him on his feet his face was 
 white and his lips set. It seemed 
 to me that he struck a violent blow 
 at the dead being, and then he,
 
 63 Cbe tipper JScrtb 
 
 too, fell forward upon his face, 
 with an inarticulate cry of horror. 
 
 The thing paused an instant, 
 seeming to hover over his pros- 
 trate body, and I could have 
 screamed again for very fright, 
 but I had no voice left. The thing 
 vanished suddenly, and it seemed 
 to my disturbed senses that it 
 made its exit through the open 
 port, though how that was possi- 
 ble, considering the smallness of 
 the aperture, is more than any one 
 can tell. I lay a long time upon 
 the floor, and the captain lay be- 
 side me. At last I partially re- 
 covered my senses and moved, 
 and I instantly knew that my arm 
 was broken the small bone of the 
 left forearm near the wrist. 
 
 I got upon my feet somehow, 
 and with my remaining hand I 
 tried to raise the captain. He
 
 Cbe Tapper JSertb 6 9 
 
 groaned and moved, and at last 
 came to himself. He was not hurt, 
 but he seemed badly stunned. 
 
 Well, do you want to hear any 
 more? There is nothing more. 
 That is the end of my story. The 
 carpenter carried out his scheme 
 of running half a dozen four-inch 
 screws through the door of one 
 hundred and five ; and if ever you 
 take a passage in the Kamtschatka, 
 you may ask for a berth in that 
 state-room. You will be told that 
 it is engaged yes it is engaged 
 by that dead thing. 
 
 I finished the trip in the sur- 
 geon's cabin. He doctored my 
 broken arm, and advised me not 
 to " fiddle about with ghosts and 
 things " any more. The captain 
 was very silent, and never sailed 
 again in that ship, though it is
 
 70 Cbe Tapper JBertb 
 
 still running. And I will not sail 
 in her either. It was a very dis- 
 agreeable experience, and I was 
 very badly frightened, which is a 
 thing I do not like. That is all. 
 That is how I saw a ghost if it 
 was a ghost. It was dead, any- 
 how.
 
 BY THE WATERS OF 
 PARADISE
 
 By the Waters of 
 Paradise. 
 
 {REMEMBER my childhood 
 very distinctly. I do not 
 think that the fact argues a good 
 memory, for I have never been 
 clever at learning words by heart, 
 in prose or rhyme ; so that I be- 
 lieve my remembrance of events 
 depends much more upon the 
 events themselves than upon my 
 possessing any special facility for 
 recalling them. Perhaps I am too 
 imaginative, and the earliest im- 
 pressions I received were of a kind 
 to stimulate the imagination ab- 
 normally. A long series of little 
 73
 
 74 J6g tbe "CQatcrs of 
 
 misfortunes, connected with each 
 other as to suggest a sort of weird 
 fatality, so worked upon my mel- 
 ancholy temperament when I was 
 a boy that, before I was of age, I 
 sincerely believed myself to be 
 under a curse, and not only my- 
 self, but my whole family, and 
 every individual who bore my 
 name. 
 
 I was born in the old place 
 where my father, and his father, 
 and all his predecessors had been 
 born, beyond the memory of man. 
 It is a very old house, and the 
 greater part of it was originally a 
 castle, strongly fortified, and sur- 
 rounded by a deep moat supplied 
 with abundant water from the 
 hills by a hidden aqueduct. Many 
 of the fortifications have been de- 
 stroyed, and the moat has been 
 filled up. The water from the
 
 tbe TRflaters of paradise 75 
 
 aqueduct supplies great fountains, 
 and runs down into huge oblong 
 basins in the terraced gardens, one 
 below the other, each surrounded 
 by a broad pavement of marble 
 between the water and the flower- 
 beds. The waste surplus finally 
 escapes through an artificial grotto, 
 some thirty yards long, into a 
 stream, flowing down through the 
 park to the meadows beyond, and 
 thence to the distant river. The 
 buildings were extended a little 
 and greatly altered more than two 
 hundred years ago, in the time of 
 Charles II., but since then little 
 has been done to improve them, 
 though they have been kept in 
 fairly good repair, according to 
 our fortunes. 
 
 In the gardens there are terraces 
 and huge hedges of box and ever- 
 green, some of which used to be
 
 76 JSg tbe Idaters of para&ise 
 
 clipped into shapes of animals, in 
 the Italian style. I can remem- 
 ber when I was a lad how I used 
 to try to make out what the trees 
 were cut to represent, and how I 
 used to appeal for explanations to 
 Judith, my Welsh nurse. She 
 dealt in a strange mythology of 
 her own, and peopled the gardens 
 with griffins, dragons, good genii 
 and bad, and filled my mind with 
 them at the same time. My nur- 
 sery window afforded a view of 
 the great fountains at the head of 
 the upper basin, and on moonlight 
 nights the Welshwoman would 
 hold me up to the glass and bid 
 me look at the mist and spray 
 rising into mysterious shapes, mov- 
 ing mystically in the white light 
 like living things. 
 
 " It 'sthe Woman of the Water," 
 she used to say ; and sometimes
 
 308 tbe Waters of ipara&ise 77 
 
 she would threaten that if I did 
 not go to sleep the Woman of the 
 Water would steal up to the high 
 window and carry me away in her 
 wet arms. 
 
 The place was gloomy. The 
 broad basins of water and the tall 
 evergreen hedges gave it a funereal 
 look, and the damp-stained marble 
 causeways by the pools might have 
 been made of tombstones. The 
 gray and weather-beaten walls and 
 towers without, the dark and mas- 
 sively-furnished rooms within, the 
 deep, mysterious recesses and the 
 heavy curtains, all affected my 
 spirits. I was silent and sad from 
 my childhood. There was a great 
 clock tower above, from which the 
 hours rang dismally during the day, 
 and tolled like a knell in the dead 
 of night. There was no light nor 
 life in the house, for my mother
 
 ?s JSg tbe TRUaters of 
 
 was a helpless invalid, and my 
 father had grown melancholy in 
 his long task of caring for her. He 
 was a thin, dark man, with sad 
 eyes; kind, I think, but silent and 
 unhappy. Next to my mother, I 
 believe he loved me better than 
 anything on earth, for he took im- 
 mense pains and trouble in teach- 
 ing me, and what he taught me I 
 have never forgotten. Perhaps it 
 was his only amusement, and that 
 may be the reason why I had no 
 nursery governess or teacher of 
 any kind while he lived. 
 
 I used to be taken to see my 
 mother every day, and sometimes 
 twice a day, for an hour at a 
 time. Then I sat upon a little 
 stool near her feet, and she would 
 ask me what I had been doing, 
 and what I wanted to do. I dare- 
 say she saw already the seeds of a
 
 tbe Idaters of iparafcise 79 
 
 profound melancholy in my na- 
 ture, for she looked at me always 
 with a sad smile, and kissed me 
 with a sigh when I was taken away. 
 
 One night, when I was just six 
 years old, I lay awake in the nur- 
 sery. The door was not quite 
 shut, and the Welsh nurse was 
 sitting sewing in the next room. 
 Suddenly I heard her groan, and 
 say in a strange voice, " One two 
 one two ! " I was frightened, 
 and I jumped up and ran to the 
 door, barefooted as I was. 
 
 " What is it, Judith ? " I cried, 
 clinging to her skirts. I can re- 
 member the look in her strange 
 dark eyes as she answered. 
 
 " One two leaden coffins, fallen 
 from the ceiling ! " she crooned, 
 working herself in her chair. 
 " One two a light coffin and a 
 heavy coffin, falling to the floor!"
 
 8o JBg tbc Waters of parafctee 
 
 Then she seemed to notice me, 
 and she took me back to bed and 
 sang me to sleep with a queer old 
 Welsh song. 
 
 I do not know how it was, but 
 the impression got hold of me 
 that she had meant that my father 
 and mother were going to die 
 very soon. They died in the very 
 room where she had been sitting 
 that night. It was a great room, 
 my day nursery, full of sun when 
 there was any : and when the days 
 were dark it was the most cheerful 
 place in the house. My mother 
 grew rapidly worse, and I was 
 transferred to another part of the 
 building to make place for her. 
 They thought my nursery was 
 gayer for her, I suppose ; but she 
 could not live. She was beautiful 
 when she was dead, and I cried 
 bitterly.
 
 JSg tbe TKflaters of iparaOfse 81 
 
 " The light one, the light one 
 the heavy one to come," crooned 
 the Welshwoman. And she was 
 right. My father took the room 
 after my mother was gone, and 
 day by day he grew thinner and 
 paler and sadder. 
 
 " The heavy one, the heavy one 
 all of lead," moaned my nurse, 
 one night in December, standing 
 still, just as she was going to take 
 away the light after putting me to 
 bed. Then she took me up again 
 and wrapped me in a little gown, 
 and led me away to my father's 
 room. She knocked, but no one 
 answered. She opened the door, 
 and we found him in his easy- 
 chair before the fire, very white, 
 quite dead. 
 
 So I was alone with the Welsh- 
 woman till strange people came, 
 and relations whom I had never
 
 82 3Bg tbe TJQaters of paraMse 
 
 seen ; and then I heard them 
 saying that I must be taken away 
 to some more cheerful place. 
 They were kind people, and I will 
 not believe that they were kind 
 only because I was to be very rich 
 when I grew to be a man. The 
 world never seemed to be a very 
 bad place to me, nor all the people 
 to be miserable sinners, even when 
 I was most melancholy. I do not 
 remember that any one ever did 
 me any great injustice, nor that I 
 was ever oppressed or ill-treated 
 in any way, even by the boys at 
 school. I was sad, I suppose, 
 because my childhood was so 
 gloomy, and, later, because I was 
 unlucky in everything I under- 
 took, till I finally believed I was 
 pursued by fate, and I used to 
 dream that the old Welsh nurse 
 and the Woman of the Water be-
 
 tbe Waters of iparaDfse 83 
 
 tween them had vowed to pursue 
 me to my end. But my natural 
 disposition should have been 
 cheerful, as I have often thought. 
 Among lads of my age I was 
 never last, or even among the last, 
 in anything ; but I was never first. 
 If I trained for a race, I was sure 
 to sprain my ankle on the day 
 when I was to run. If I pulled an 
 oar with others, my oar was sure 
 to break. If I competed for a 
 prize, some unforeseen accident 
 prevented my winning it at the last 
 moment. Nothing to which I put 
 my hand succeeded, and I got the 
 reputation of being unlucky, until 
 my companions felt it was always 
 safe to bet against me, no matter 
 what the appearances might be. 
 I became discouraged and listless 
 in everything. I gave up the idea 
 of competing for any distinction
 
 84 JBg tbe TSnaters of paraDtse 
 
 at the University, comforting my- 
 self with the thought that I could 
 not fail in the examination for the 
 ordinary degree. The day before 
 the examination began I fell ill ; 
 and when at last I recovered, after 
 a narrow escape from death, I 
 turned my back upon Oxford, and 
 went down alone to visit the old 
 place where I had been born, 
 feeble in health and profoundly 
 disgusted and discouraged. I was 
 twenty-one years of age, master 
 of myself and of my fortune ; but 
 so deeply had the long chain of 
 small unlucky circumstances af- 
 fected me that I thought seriously 
 of shutting myself up from the 
 world to live the life of a hermit, 
 and to die as soon as possible. 
 Death seemed the only cheerful 
 possibility in my existence, and
 
 38g tbe Waters of paradise 85 
 
 my thoughts soon dwelt upon it 
 altogether. 
 
 I had never shown any wish to 
 return to my own home since I 
 had been taken away as a little 
 boy, and no one had ever pressed 
 me to do so. The place had been 
 kept in order after a fashion, and 
 did not seem to have suffered 
 during the fifteen years or more 
 of my absence. Nothing earthly 
 could affect those old grey walls 
 that had fought the elements for 
 so many centuries. The garden 
 was more wild than I remembered 
 it ; the marble causeways about 
 the pools looked more yellow and 
 damp than of old, and the whole 
 place at first looked smaller. It 
 was not until I had wandered 
 about the house and grounds for 
 many hours that I realised the
 
 86 JBs tbe Maters of paradise 
 
 huge size of the home where I was 
 to live in solitude. Then I began 
 to. delight in it, and my resolution 
 to live alone grew stronger. 
 
 The people had turned out to 
 welcome me, of course, and I tried 
 to recognise the changed faces of 
 the old gardener and the old 
 housekeeper, and to call them by 
 name. My old nurse I knew at 
 once. She had grown very grey 
 since she heard the coffins fall 
 in the nursery fifteen years be- 
 fore, but her strange eyes were the 
 same, and the look in them woke 
 all my old memories. She went 
 over the house with me. 
 
 " And how is the Woman of the 
 Water?" I asked, trying to laugh 
 a little. " Does she still play in 
 the moonlight ? " 
 
 " She is hungry," answered the 
 Welshwoman, in a low voice.
 
 3B tbe TKHaters of Paradise 87 
 
 " Hungry ? Then we will feed 
 her." I laughed. But old Judith 
 turned very pale, and looked at 
 me strangely. 
 
 " Feed her ? Ay you will feed 
 her well," she muttered, glancing 
 behind her at the ancient house- 
 keeper, who tottered after us with 
 feeble steps through the halls and 
 passages. 
 
 I did not think much of her 
 words. She had always talked 
 oddly, as Welshwomen will, and 
 though I was very melancholy 
 I am sure I was not supersti- 
 tious, and I was certainly not 
 timid. Only, as in a far-off dream, 
 I seemed to see her standing with 
 the light in her hand and mutter- 
 ing, " The heavy one all of lead," 
 and then leading a little boy 
 through the long corridors to see 
 his father lying dead in a great
 
 tbc "Cdaters of fcara&tse 
 
 easy-chair before a smouldering 
 fire. So we went over the house, 
 and I chose the rooms where I 
 would live ; and the servants I 
 had brought with me ordered and 
 arranged everything, and I had no 
 more trouble. I did not care what 
 they did provided I was left in 
 peace, and was not expected to 
 give directions ; for I was more 
 listless than ever, owing to the ef- 
 fects of my illness at college. 
 
 I dined in solitary state, and 
 the melancholy grandeur of the 
 vast old dining-room pleased me. 
 Then I went to the room I had 
 selected for my study, and sat 
 down in a deep chair, under a 
 bright light, to think, or to let my 
 thoughts meander through laby- 
 rinths of their own choosing, ut- 
 terly indifferent to the course they 
 might take.
 
 tbe Waters of paraOtse 89 
 
 The tall windows of the room 
 opened to the level of the ground 
 upon the terrace at the head of 
 the garden. It was in the end of 
 July, and everything was open, for 
 the weather was warm. As I sat 
 alone I heard the unceasing plash 
 of the great fountains, and I fell 
 to thinking of the Woman of the 
 Water. I rose, and went out into 
 the still night, and sat down upon 
 a seat on the terrace, between two 
 gigantic Italian flower-pots. The 
 air was deliciously soft and sweet 
 with the smell of the flowers, and 
 the garden was more congenial to 
 me than the house. Sad people al- 
 ways like running water and the 
 sound of it at night, though I can- 
 not tell why. I sat and listened 
 in the gloom, for it was dark be- 
 low, and the pale moon had not 
 yet climbed over the hills in front
 
 go JBs tbe TSnaters of paraDise 
 
 of me, though all the air above was 
 light with her rising beams. Slowly 
 the white halo in the eastern sky 
 ascended in an arch above the 
 wooded crests, making the outlines 
 of the mountains more intensely 
 black by contrast, as though the 
 head of some great white saint were 
 rising from behind a screen in a vast 
 cathedral, throwing misty glories 
 from below. I longed to see the 
 moon herself, and I tried to reckon 
 the seconds before she must ap- 
 pear. Then she sprang up quickly, 
 and in a moment more hung round 
 and perfect in the sky. I gazed at 
 her, and then at the floating spray 
 of the tall fountains, and down 
 at the pools, where the water- 
 lilies were rocking softly in their 
 sleep on the velvet surface of 
 the moon-lit water. Just then a 
 great swan floated out silently
 
 JBg tbe Maters of paradise 91 
 
 into the midst of the basin, and 
 wreathed his long neck, catching 
 the water in his broad bill, and 
 scattering showers of diamonds 
 around him. 
 
 Suddenly, as I gazed, something 
 came between me and the light. I 
 looked up instantly. Between me 
 and the round disk of the moon 
 rose a luminous face of a woman, 
 with great strange eyes, and a wo- 
 man's mouth, full and soft, but not 
 smiling, hooded in black, staring at 
 me as I sat still upon my bench. 
 She was close to me so close that 
 I could have touched her with my 
 hand. But I was transfixed and 
 helpless. She stood still for a mo- 
 ment, but her expression did not 
 change. Then she passed swiftly 
 away, and my hair stood up on 
 my head, while the cold breeze 
 from her white dress was wafted
 
 92 JSg tbe IWlaters of f>araJMse 
 
 to my temples as she moved. The 
 moonlight, shining through the 
 tossing spray of the fountain, 
 made traceries of shadow on the 
 gleaming folds of her garments. 
 In an instant she was gone and I 
 was alone. 
 
 I was strangely shaken by the 
 vision, and some time passed be- 
 fore I could rise to my feet, for I 
 was still weak from my illness, and 
 the sight I had seen would have 
 startled any one. I did not reason 
 with myself, for I was certain that 
 I had looked on the unearthly, 
 and no argument could have de- 
 stroyed that belief. At last I got 
 up and stood unsteadily, gazing in 
 the direction in which I thought 
 the face had gone ; but there was 
 nothing to be seen nothing but 
 the broad paths, the tall, dark ever- 
 green hedges, the tossing water of
 
 tbe Maters of paraDfse 93 
 
 the fountains and the smooth pool 
 below. I fell back upon the seat 
 and recalled the face I had seen. 
 Strange to say, now that the first 
 impression had passed, there was 
 nothing startling in the recollec- 
 tion ; on the contrary, I felt that 
 I was fascinated by the face, and 
 would give anything to see it 
 again. I could retrace the beauti- 
 ful straight features, the long dark 
 eyes, and the wonderful mouth 
 most exactly in my mind, and when 
 I had reconstructed every detail 
 from memory I knew that the 
 whole was beautiful, and that I 
 should love a woman with such a 
 face. 
 
 " I wonder whether she is the 
 Woman of the Water ! " I said to 
 myself. Then rising once more, I 
 wandered down the garden, de- 
 scending one short flight of steps
 
 94 3Bg tbc Waters of paraDtse 
 
 after another, from terrace to ter- 
 race by the edge of the marble 
 basins, through the shadow and 
 through the moonlight ; and I 
 crossed the water by the rustic 
 bridge above the artificial grotto, 
 and climbed slowly up again to 
 the highest terrace by the other 
 side. The air seemed sweeter, 
 and I was very calm, so that I 
 think I smiled to myself as I 
 walked, as though a new happiness 
 had come to me. The \voman's 
 face seemed always before me, and 
 the thought of it gave me an un- 
 wonted thrill of pleasure, unlike 
 anything I had ever felt before. 
 
 I turned, as I reached the house, 
 and looked back upon the scene. 
 It had certainly changed in the 
 short hour since 1 had come out, 
 and my mood had changed with it. 
 Just like my luck, I thought, to
 
 JBg tbe Idaters of para&tse 95 
 
 fall in love with a ghost ! But in 
 old times I would have sighed, and 
 gone to bed more sad than ever, 
 at such a melancholy conclusion. 
 To-night I felt happy, almost for 
 the first time in my life. The 
 gloomy old study seemed cheerful 
 when I went in. The old pictures 
 on the walls smiled at me, and I 
 sat down in my deep chair with a 
 new and delightful sensation that 
 I was not alone. The idea of hav- 
 ing seen a ghost, and of feeling 
 much the better for it, was so 
 absurd that I laughed softly, as 
 I took up one of the books I had 
 brought with me and began to 
 read. 
 
 That impression did not wear 
 off. I slept peacefully, and in the 
 morning I threw open my windows 
 to the summer air and looked down 
 at the garden, at the stretches of
 
 96 JBg tbe "CQatcrs of parafcise 
 
 green and at the coloured flower- 
 beds, at the circling swallows and 
 at the bright water. 
 
 " A man might make a paradise 
 of this place," I exclaimed. " A 
 man and a woman together ! " 
 
 From that day the old castle no 
 longer seemed gloomy, and I think 
 I ceased to be sad ; for some time, 
 too, I began to take an interest in 
 the place, and to try and make it 
 more alive. I avoided my old 
 Welsh nurse, lest she should damp 
 my humour with some dismal 
 prophecy, and recall my old self 
 by bringing back memories of my 
 dismal childhood. But what I 
 thought of most was the ghostly 
 figure I had seen in the garden 
 that first night after my arrival. I 
 went out every evening and wan- 
 dered through the walks and paths ; 
 but, try as I might, I did not see
 
 3SSg tbe TKflatcrB of fcaraDise 97 
 
 my vision again. At last, after 
 many days, the memory grew more 
 faint, and my old moody nature 
 gradually overcame the temporary 
 sense of lightness I had experi- 
 enced. The summer turned to 
 autumn, and I grew restless. It 
 began to rain. The dampness per- 
 vaded the gardens, and the outer 
 halls smelled musty, like tombs ; 
 the grey sky oppressed me intoler- 
 ably. I left the place as it was 
 and went abroad, determined to 
 try anything which might possibly 
 make a second break in the mo- 
 notonous melancholy from which 
 I suffered.
 
 II. 
 
 MOST people would be struck 
 by the utter insignificance 
 of the small events which, after 
 the death of my parents, influenced 
 my life and made me unhappy. 
 The gruesome forebodings of a 
 Welsh nurse, which chanced to be 
 realised by an odd coincidence of 
 events, should not seem enough 
 to change the nature of a child, 
 and to direct the bent of his char- 
 acter in after years. The little 
 disappointments of schoolboy life, 
 and the somewhat less childish 
 ones of an uneventful and undis- 
 tinguished academic career, should 
 not have sufficed to turn me out
 
 3BB tbe TKBaters of paraOtsc 99 
 
 at one-and-twenty years of age a 
 melancholic, listless idler. Some 
 weakness of my own character 
 may have contributed to the re- 
 sult, but in a greater degree it was 
 due to my having a reputation for 
 bad luck. However, I will not 
 try to analyse the causes of my 
 state, for I should satisfy nobody, 
 least of all myself. Still less will 
 I attempt to explain why I felt a 
 temporary revival of my spirits 
 after my adventure in the garden. 
 It is certain that I was in love 
 with the face I had seen, and that 
 I longed to see it again ; that I 
 gave up all hope of a second visi- 
 tation, grew more sad than ever, 
 packed up my traps, and finally 
 went abroad. But in my dreams 
 I went back to my home, and it 
 always appeared to me sunny and 
 bright, as it had looked on that
 
 tbe Waters of para&ise 
 
 summer's morning after I had 
 seen the woman by the fountain. 
 I went to Paris. I went further, 
 and wandered about Germany. I 
 tried to amuse myself, and I failed 
 miserably. With the aimless 
 whims of an idle and useless man, 
 come all sorts of suggestions for 
 good resolutions. One day I 
 made up my mind that I would go 
 and bury myself in a German uni- 
 versity for a time, and live simply 
 like a poor student. I started 
 with the intention of going to 
 Leipsic, determined to stay there 
 until some event should direct 
 my life or change my humour, or 
 make an end of me altogether. 
 The express train stopped at some 
 station of which I did not know 
 the name. It was dusk on a 
 winter's afternoon, and I peered 
 through the thick glass from my
 
 tbe Idaters of paraDtse 101 
 
 seat. Suddenly another train 
 came gliding in from the opposite 
 direction, and stopped alongside 
 of ours. I looked at the carriage 
 which chanced to be abreast of 
 mine, and idly read the black 
 letters painted on a white board 
 swinging from the brass handrail: 
 BERLIN COLOGNE PARIS. 
 Then I looked up at the window 
 above. I started violently, and 
 the cold perspiration broke out 
 upon my forehead. In the dim 
 light, not six feet from where I 
 sat, I saw the face of a woman, 
 the face I loved, the straight, fine 
 features, the strange eyes, the 
 wonderful mouth, the pale skin. 
 Her head-dress was a dark veil, 
 which seemed to be tied about 
 her head and passed over the 
 shoulders under her chin. As I 
 threw down the window and knelt
 
 102 JSP tbe "Odaters of paradise 
 
 on the cushioned seat, leaning far 
 out to get a better view, a long 
 whistle screamed through the sta- 
 tion, followed by a quick series of 
 dull, clanking sounds ; then there 
 was a slight jerk, and my train 
 moved on. Luckily the window 
 was narrow, being the one over 
 the seat, beside the door, or I 
 believe I would have jumped out 
 of it then and there. In an in- 
 stant the speed increased, and I 
 was being carried swiftly away in 
 the opposite direction from the 
 thing I loved. 
 
 For a quarter of an hour I lay 
 back in my place, stunned by the 
 suddenness of the apparition. At 
 last one of the two other passen- 
 gers, a large and gorgeous captain 
 of the White Konigsberg Cuiras- 
 siers, civilly but firmly sug- 
 gested that I might shut my
 
 the TKnatere of paraDise 103 
 
 window, as the evening was cold. 
 I did so, with an apology, and 
 relapsed into silence. The train 
 ran swiftly on, for a long time, and 
 it was already beginning to slacken 
 speed before entering another 
 station, when I roused myself and 
 made a sudden resolution. As the 
 carriage stopped before the bril- 
 liantly lighted platform, I seized 
 my belongings, saluted my fellow- 
 passengers, and got out, deter- 
 mined to take the first express 
 back to Paris. 
 
 This time the circumstances of 
 the vision had been so natural 
 that it did not strike me that there 
 was anything unreal about the 
 face, or about the woman to whom 
 it belonged. I did not try to ex- 
 plain to myself how the face, and 
 the woman, could be travelling by 
 a fast train from Berlin to Paris
 
 104 .t6g tbe Tldaters of paradise 
 
 on a winter's afternoon, when 
 both were in my mind indelibly 
 associated with the moonlight and 
 the fountains in my own English 
 home. I certainly would not have 
 admitted that I had been mistaken 
 in the dusk, attributing to what 
 I had seen a resemblance to my 
 former vision which did not really 
 exist. There was not the slightest 
 doubt in my mind, and I was 
 positively sure that I had again 
 seen the face I loved. I did not 
 hesitate, and in a few hours I was 
 on my way back to Paris. I 
 could not help reflecting on my 
 ill luck. Wandering as I had been 
 for many months, it might as 
 easily have chanced that I should 
 be travelling in the same train 
 with that woman, instead of going 
 the other way. But my luck was 
 destined to turn for a time.
 
 3Bg tbe Waters of paradise 105 
 
 I searched Paris for several days. 
 I dined at the principal hotels ; I 
 went to the theatres ; I rode in the 
 Bois de Boulogne in the morning, 
 and picked up an acquaintance, 
 whom I forced to drive with me in 
 the afternoon. I went to mass at 
 the Madeleine, and I attended the 
 services at the English Church. I 
 hung about the Louvre and Notre 
 Dame. I went to Versailles. I 
 spent hours in parading the Rue 
 de Rivoli, in the neighbourhood 
 of Meurice's corner, where foreign- 
 ers pass and repass from morning 
 till night. At last I received an 
 invitation to a reception at the 
 English Embassy. I went, and I 
 found what I had sought so long. 
 
 There she was, sitting by an old 
 lady in grey satin and diamonds, 
 who had a wrinkled but kindly 
 face and keen grey eyes that
 
 io6 38s tbe Waters of paraOise 
 
 seemed to take in everything they 
 saw, with very little inclination to 
 give much in return. But I did 
 not notice the chaperon. I saw 
 only the face that had haunted me 
 for months, and in the excitement 
 of the moment I walked quickly 
 towards the pair, forgetting such 
 a trifle as the necessity for an in- 
 troduction. 
 
 She was far more beautiful than 
 I had thought, but I never doubted 
 that it was she herself and no 
 other. Vision or no vision before, 
 this was the reality, and I knew it. 
 Twice her hair had been covered, 
 now at last I saw it, and the added 
 beauty of its magnificence glorified 
 the whole woman. It was rich 
 hair, fine and abundant, golden, 
 with deep ruddy tints in it like 
 red bronze spun fine. There was 
 no ornament in it, not a rose, not
 
 JBg tbc Maters of ipara&ise 107 
 
 a thread of gold, and I felt that it 
 needed nothing to enhance its 
 splendour; nothing but her pale 
 face, her dark strange eyes, and 
 her heavy eyebrows. I could see 
 that she was slender too, but 
 strong withal, as she sat there 
 quietly gazing at the moving scene 
 in the midst of the brilliant lights 
 and the hum of perpetual conver- 
 sation. 
 
 I recollected the detail of intro- 
 duction in time, and turned aside 
 to look for my host. I found him 
 at last. I begged him to present 
 me to the two ladies, pointing 
 them out to him at the same 
 time. 
 
 "Yes uh by all means 
 uh " replied his Excellency with 
 a pleasant smile. He evidently 
 had no idea of my name, which 
 was not to be wondered at.
 
 io8 JB$ tbe "CQaters of para&iae 
 
 " I am Lord Cairngorm," I ob- 
 served. 
 
 " Oh by all means," answered 
 the Ambassador with the same 
 hospitable smile. " Yes uh the 
 fact is, I must try and find out 
 who they are ; such lots of people, 
 you know." 
 
 " Oh, if you will present me, I 
 will try and find out for you," said 
 I, laughing. 
 
 "Ah, yes so kind of you 
 come along," said my host. We 
 threaded the crowd, and in a few 
 minutes we stood before the two 
 ladies. 
 
 " 'Lowmintrduce L'd Cairn- 
 gorm," he said ; then, adding 
 quickly to me, " Come and dine 
 to-morrow, won't you ? " he glided 
 away with his pleasant smile and 
 disappeared in the crowd. 
 
 I sat down beside the beautiful
 
 JS tbe Maters of ipara&tse 109 
 
 girl, conscious that the eyes of the 
 duenna were upon me. 
 
 " I think we have been very near 
 meeting before," I remarked, by 
 way of opening the conversation. 
 
 My companion turned her eyes 
 full upon me with an air of inquiry. 
 She evidently did not recall my 
 face, if she had ever seen me. 
 
 " Really I cannot remember," 
 she observed, in a low and musical 
 voice. " When ? " 
 
 " In the first place, you came 
 down from Berlin by the express, 
 ten days ago. I was going the 
 other way, and our carriages 
 stopped opposite each other. I 
 saw you at the window." 
 
 "Yes we came that way, but 
 I do not remember She 
 
 hesitated. 
 
 " Secondly," I continued, " I was 
 sitting alone in my garden last
 
 i io 3B% tbc li&aters of paradise 
 
 summer near the end of July 
 do you remember? You must 
 have wandered in there through 
 the park ; you came up to the 
 house and looked at me 
 
 " Was that you ? " she asked, in 
 evident surprise. Then she broke 
 into a laugh. " I told everybody 
 I had seen a ghost ; there had 
 never been any Cairngorms in the 
 place since the memory of man. 
 We left the next day, and never 
 heard that you had come there ; 
 indeed, I did not know the castle 
 belonged to you." 
 
 " Where were you staying ? " I 
 asked. 
 
 " Where ? Why, with my aunt, 
 where I always stay. She is your 
 neighbour, since it is you." 
 
 " I beg your pardon but then 
 is your aunt Lady Bluebell ? I 
 did not quite catch
 
 JBg tbe Maters of paradise m 
 
 " Don't be afraid. She is amaz- 
 ingly deaf. Yes. She is the relict 
 of my beloved uncle, the sixteenth 
 or seventeenth Baron Bluebell I 
 forget exactly how many of them 
 there have been. And I do you 
 know who I am ? " She laughed, 
 well knowing that I did not. 
 
 " No," I answered frankly. "I 
 have not the least idea. I asked 
 to be introduced because I recog- 
 nised you. Perhaps perhaps you 
 are a Miss Bluebell ? " 
 
 " Considering that you are a 
 neighbour, I will tell you who I 
 am," she answered. " No ; I am 
 of the tribe of Bluebells, but my 
 name is Lammas, and I have been 
 given to understand that I was 
 christened Margaret. Being a 
 floral family, they call me Daisy. 
 A dreadful American man once 
 told me that my aunt was a Blue-
 
 H2 JBg tbe "Maters of paradise 
 
 bell and that I was a Harebell 
 with two 1's and an e -because my 
 hair is so thick. I warn you, so 
 that you may avoid making such 
 a bad pun." 
 
 " Do I look like a man who 
 makes puns ? " I asked, being very 
 conscious of my melancholy face 
 and sad looks. 
 
 Miss Lammas eyed me critic- 
 ally. 
 
 " No ; you have a mournful 
 temperament. I think I can trust 
 you," she answered. '' Do you 
 think you could communicate to 
 my aunt the fact that you are a 
 Cairngorm and a neighbour ? I 
 am sure she would like to know." 
 
 I leaned towards the old lady, 
 inflating my lungs fora yell. But 
 Miss Lammas stopped me. 
 
 " That is not of the slightest 
 use," she remarked. " You can
 
 JBg tbe Waters of paraDtse 113 
 
 write it on a bit of paper. She is 
 utterly deaf.' 
 
 " I have a pencil," I answered ; 
 " but I have no paper. Would my 
 cuff do, do you think? " 
 
 "Oh, yes!" replied Miss Lam- 
 mas, with alacrity ; " men often 
 do that." 
 
 I wrote on my cuff : " Miss 
 Lammas wishes me to explain that 
 I am your neighbour, Cairngorm." 
 Then I held out my arm before 
 the old lady's nose. She seemed 
 perfectly accustomed to the pro- 
 ceeding, put up her glasses, read 
 the words, smiled, nodded, and 
 addressed me in the unearthly 
 voice peculiar to people who hear 
 nothing. 
 
 " I knew your grandfather very 
 well," she said. Then she smiled 
 and nodded to me again, and to 
 her niece, and relapsed into silence.
 
 H4 JBt> tbe ^Oarers of paraMse 
 
 " It is all right," remarked Miss 
 Lammas. " Aunt Bluebell knows 
 she is deaf, and does not say much, 
 like the parrot. You see, she 
 knew your grandfather. How 
 odd, that we should be neigh- 
 bours ! Why have we never met 
 before ? " 
 
 "If you had told me you knew 
 my grandfather when you appeared 
 in the garden, I should not have 
 been in the least surprised," I an- 
 swered rather irrelevantly. " I 
 really thought you were the ghost 
 of the old fountain. How in the 
 world did you come there at that 
 hour ? " 
 
 " We were a large party and we 
 went out for a walk. Then we 
 thought we should like to see what 
 your park was like in the moon- 
 light, and so we trespassed. I got 
 separated from the rest, and came
 
 3Bg tbe Maters of paraDtse us 
 
 upon you by accident, just as I 
 was admiring the extremely 
 ghostly look of your house, and 
 wondering whether anybody 
 would ever come and live there 
 again. It looks like the castle 
 of Macbeth, or a scene from the 
 opera. Do you know anybody 
 here ? " 
 
 " Hardly a soul ! Do you ? " 
 
 " No. Aunt Bluebell said it was 
 our duty to come. It is easy for 
 her to go out ; she does not bear 
 the burden of the conversation." 
 
 " I am sorry you find it a bur- 
 den," said I. " Shall I go away ? " 
 
 Miss Lammas looked at me with 
 a sudden gravity in her beautiful 
 eyes, and there was a sort of hesi- 
 tation about the lines of her full, 
 soft mouth. 
 
 " No," she said at last, quite 
 simply, " don't go away. We may
 
 ii6 asp tbe Idaters of paratuse 
 
 like each other, if you stay a little 
 longer and we ought to, because 
 we are neighbours in the country." 
 I suppose I ought to have 
 thought Miss Lammas a very odd 
 girl. There is, indeed, a sort of 
 freemasonry between people who 
 discover that they live near each 
 other, and that they ought to have 
 known each other before. But 
 there was a sort of unexpected 
 frankness and simplicity in the 
 girl's amusing manner which would 
 have struck any one else as being 
 singular, to say the least of it. To 
 me, however, it all seemed natural 
 enough. I had dreamed of her 
 face too long not to be utterly 
 happy when I met her at last, and 
 could talk to her as much as I 
 pleased. To me, the man of ill 
 luck in everything, the whole 
 meeting seemed too good to be
 
 JBg tbe IClaters of paraOise 117 
 
 true. I felt again that strange sen- 
 sation of lightness which I had ex- 
 perienced after I had seen her face 
 in the garden. The great rooms 
 seemed brighter, life seemed worth 
 living ; my sluggish, melancholy 
 blood ran faster, and filled me with 
 a new sense of strength. I said to 
 myself that without this woman I 
 was but an imperfect being, but 
 that with her I could accomplish 
 everything to which I should set 
 my hand. Like the great Doctor, 
 when he thought he had cheated 
 Mephistopheles at last, I could 
 have cried aloud to the fleeting 
 moment, Verweile dock, du bist so 
 schon ! 
 
 "Are you always gay?" I 
 asked, suddenly. " How happy 
 you must be ! " 
 
 " The days would sometimes 
 seem very long if I were gloomy,"
 
 "8 ;BE tbe Waters of 
 
 she answered, thoughtfully. " Yes, 
 I think I find life very pleasant, 
 and I tell it so." 
 
 " How can you ' tell life ' any- 
 thing?" I inquired. " If I could 
 catch my life and talk to it, I 
 would abuse it prodigiously, I 
 assure you." 
 
 " I daresay. You have a melan- 
 choly temper. You ought to live 
 out of doors, dig potatoes, make 
 hay, shoot, hunt, tumble into 
 ditches, and come home muddy 
 and hungry for dinner. It would 
 be much better for you than 
 moping in your rook tower, and 
 hating everything." 
 
 "It is rather lonely down there," 
 I murmured, apologetically, feel- 
 ing that Miss Lammas was quite 
 right. 
 
 " Then marry, and quarrel with
 
 JBe tbc Idaters of paraDtse 119 
 
 your wife," she laughed. " Any- 
 thing is better than being alone." 
 
 " I am a very peaceable person. 
 I never quarrel with anybody. 
 You can try it. You will find it 
 quite impossible." 
 
 "Will you let me try?" she 
 asked, still smiling. 
 
 " By all means especially if it 
 is to be only a preliminary canter," 
 I answered, rashly. 
 
 " What do you mean ? " she in- 
 quired, turning quickly upon me. 
 
 " Oh nothing. You might try 
 my paces with a view to quarrel- 
 ling in the future. I cannot 
 imagine how you are going to do 
 it. You will have to resort to 
 immediate and direct abuse." 
 
 " No. I will only say that if 
 you do not like your life, it is 
 your own fault. How can a man
 
 120 ;fl5g tbc TlUaters of paraDtse 
 
 of your age talk of being melan- 
 choly, or of the hollowness of 
 existence ? Are you consumptive ? 
 Are you subject to hereditary in- 
 sanity? Are you deaf, like Aunt 
 Bluebell ? Are you poor, like 
 lots of people? Have you been 
 crossed in love? Have you lost 
 the world for a woman, or any 
 particular woman for the sake of 
 the world ? Are you feeble-minded, 
 a cripple, an outcast ? Are you 
 repulsively ugly?" She laughed 
 again. " Is there any reason in 
 the world why you should not 
 enjoy all you have got in life?" 
 
 " No. There is no reason what- 
 ever, except that I am dreadfully un- 
 lucky, especially in small things." 
 
 " Then try big things, just for a 
 change," suggested Miss Lam- 
 mas. " Try and get married, for 
 instance, and see how it turns out."
 
 J8g tbe TKHatere of paradise 121 
 
 " If it turned out badly it would 
 be rather serious." 
 
 " Not half so serious as it is to 
 abuse everything unreasonably. 
 If abuse is your particular talent, 
 abuse something that ought to be 
 abused. Abuse the Conservatives 
 or the Liberals it does not 
 matter which, since they are al- 
 ways abusing each other. Make 
 yourself felt by other people. 
 You will like it, if they don't. It 
 will make a man of you. Fill 
 your mouth with pebbles, and 
 howl at the sea, if you cannot do 
 anything else. It did Demosthenes 
 no end of good you know. You 
 will have the satisfaction of imi- 
 tating a great man." 
 
 " Really, Miss Lammas, I think 
 the list of innocent exercises you 
 propose 
 
 " Very well if you don't care
 
 tbc Waters of paraDise 
 
 for that sort of thing, care for 
 some other sort of thing. Care 
 for something, or hate something. 
 Don't be idle. Life is short, and 
 though art may be long, plenty of 
 noise answers nearly as well." 
 
 " I do care for something I 
 mean, somebody," I said. 
 
 " A woman ? Then marry her. 
 Don't hesitate." 
 
 " I do not know whether she 
 would marry me," I replied. " I 
 have never asked her." 
 
 "Then ask her at once," an- 
 swered Miss Lammas. " I shall 
 die happy if I feel I have per- 
 suaded a melancholy fellow-crea- 
 ture to rouse himself to action. 
 Ask her, by all means, and see 
 what she says. If she does not 
 accept you at once, she may take 
 you the next time. Meanwhile, 
 you will have entered for the race.
 
 JBg tbe Waters of paraDtse 123 
 
 If you lose, there are the 'All- 
 aged Trial Stakes,' and the ' Con- 
 solation Race.' " 
 
 " And plenty of selling races 
 into the bargain. Shall I take you 
 at your word, Miss Lammas?" 
 
 " I hope you will," she answered. 
 
 "Since you yourself advise me, 
 I will. Miss Lammas, will you 
 do me the honour to marry me ? " 
 
 For the first time in my life the 
 blood rushed to my head and my 
 sight swam. I cannot tell why I 
 said it. It would be useless to try 
 to explain the extraordinary fasci- 
 nation the girl exercised over me, 
 nor the still more extraordinary 
 feeling of intimacy with her which 
 had grown in me during that half- 
 hour. Lonely, sad, unlucky as I 
 had been all my life, I was cer- 
 tainly not timid, nor even shy. 
 But to propose to marry a woman
 
 124 JBg tbe Waters of paradise 
 
 after half an hour's acquaintance 
 was a piece of madness of which 
 I never believed myself capable, 
 and of which I should never be 
 capable again, could I be placed 
 in the same situation. It was as 
 though my whole being had been 
 changed in a moment by magic 
 by the white magic of her nature 
 brought into contact with mine. 
 The blood sank back to my heart, 
 and a moment later I found my- 
 self staring at her with anxious 
 eyes. To my amazement she was 
 as calm as ever, but her beautiful 
 mouth smiled, and there was a 
 mischievous light in her dark- 
 brown eyes. 
 
 " Fairly caught," she answered. 
 " For an individual who pretends 
 to be listless and sad you are not 
 lacking in humour. I had really 
 not the least idea what vou were
 
 3Bg tbe Waters of ipara&iee 125 
 
 going to say. Would n't it be 
 singularly awkward for you if I 
 had said ' Yes ' ? I never saw 
 anybody begin to practise so 
 sharply what was preached to him 
 with so very little loss of time ! " 
 
 " You probably never met a man 
 who had dreamed of you for seven 
 months before being introduced." 
 
 " No, I never did," she an- 
 swered, gaily. " It smacks of the 
 romantic. Perhaps you are a 
 romantic character, after all. I 
 should think you were if I be- 
 lieved you. Very well ; you have 
 taken my advice, entered for a 
 Stranger's Race and lost it. Try 
 the All-aged Trial Stakes. You 
 have another cuff, and a pencil. 
 Propose to Aunt Bluebell ; she 
 would dance with astonishment, 
 and she might recover her hear- 
 ing."
 
 III. 
 
 THAT was ho\v I first asked 
 Margaret Lammas to be my 
 wife, and I will agree with any one 
 who says I behaved very foolishly. 
 But I have not repented of it, and 
 I never shall. I have long ago 
 understood that I was out of my 
 mind that evening, but I think 
 my temporary insanity on that 
 occasion has had the effect of 
 making me a saner man ever 
 since. Her manner turned my 
 head, for it was so different from 
 what I had expected. To hear 
 this lovely creature, who, in my 
 imagination, was a heroine of ro- 
 
 o 
 
 mance, if not of tragedy, talking 
 126
 
 JBg tbc TKHaters of ff>ara&f0e 127 
 
 familiarly and laughing readily was 
 more than my equanimity could 
 bear, and I lost my head as well 
 as my heart. But when I went 
 back to England in the spring, I 
 went to make certain arrange- 
 ments at the Castle certain 
 changes and improvements which 
 would be. absolutely necessary. I 
 had won the race for which I had 
 entered myself so rashly, and we 
 were to be married in June. 
 
 Whether the change was due to 
 the orders I had left with the 
 gardener and the rest of the ser- 
 vants, or to my own state of 
 mind, I cannot tell. At all events, 
 the old place did not look the 
 same to me when I opened my 
 window on the morning after my 
 arrival. There were the grey 
 walls below me, and the grey tur- 
 rets flanking the huge building ;
 
 i28 ;gjg tbe TJQaters of paradise 
 
 there were the fountains, the 
 marble causeways, the smooth 
 basins, the tall box hedges, the 
 water-lilies and the swans, just as 
 of old. But there was something 
 else there, too something in the 
 air, in the water, and in the green- 
 ness that I did not recognise a 
 light over everything by which 
 everything was transfigured. The 
 clock in the tower struck seven, 
 and the strokes of the ancient 
 bell sounded like a wedding 
 chime. The air sang with the 
 thrilling treble of the song- 
 birds, with the silvery music of 
 the plashing water and the softer 
 harmony of the leaves stirred by 
 the fresh morning wind. There 
 was a smell of new-mown hay 
 from the distant meadows, and of 
 blooming roses from the beds 
 below, wafted up together to my
 
 JBE tbe Waters of paraDise 129 
 
 window. I stood in the pure 
 sunshine and drank the air and all 
 the sounds and the odours that 
 were in it ; and I looked down at 
 my garden and said : " It is Para- 
 dise, after all." I think the men of 
 old were right when they called 
 heaven a garden, and Eden, a 
 garden inhabited by one man and 
 one woman, the Earthly Paradise. 
 I turned away, wondering what 
 had become of the gloomy mem- 
 ories I had always associated with 
 my home. I tried to recall the 
 impression of my nurse's horrible 
 prophecy before the death of my 
 parents an impression which 
 hitherto had been vivid enough. 
 I tried to remember my old self, 
 my dejection, my listlessness, my 
 bad luck, and my petty disap- 
 pointments. I endeavoured to 
 force myself to think as I used to
 
 i3 JBg tbc Idaters of para&ise 
 
 think, if only to satisfy myself 
 that I had not lost my individual- 
 ity. But I succeeded in none of 
 these efforts. I was a different 
 man, a changed being, incapable 
 of sorrow, of ill luck, or of sad- 
 ness. My life had been a dream, 
 not evil, but infinitely gloomy and 
 hopeless. It was now a reality, 
 full of hope, gladness, and all man- 
 ner of good. My home had been 
 like a tomb ; to-day it was para- 
 dise. My heart had been as 
 though it had not existed ; to-day 
 it beat with strength and youth, 
 and the certainty of realised happi- 
 ness. I revelled in the beauty of 
 the world, and called loveliness 
 out of the future to enjoy it before 
 time should bring it to me, as a 
 traveller in the plains looks up 
 to the mountains, and already
 
 J8g tbe IDlaters of paradise 131 
 
 tastes the cool air through the 
 dust of the road. 
 
 Here, I thought, we will live 
 and live for years. There we will 
 sit by the fountain towards even- 
 ing and in the deep moonlight. 
 Down those paths we will wander 
 together. On those benches we 
 will rest and talk. Among those 
 eastern hills we will ride through 
 the soft twilight, and in the old 
 house we will tell tales on winter 
 nights, when the logs burn high, 
 and the holly berries are red, and 
 the old clock tolls out the dying 
 year. On these old steps, in these 
 dark passages and stately rooms, 
 there will one day be the sound of 
 little pattering feet, and laughing 
 child-voices will ring up to the 
 vaults of the ancient hall. Those 
 tiny footsteps shall not be slow
 
 132 JBg ibe Maters of paraDise 
 
 and sad as mine were, nor shall 
 the childish words be spoken in an 
 awed whisper. No gloomy Welsh- 
 woman shall people the dusky 
 corners with weird horrors, nor 
 utter horrid prophecies of death 
 and ghastly things. All shall be 
 young, and fresh, and joyful, and 
 happy, and we will turn the old 
 luck again, and forget that there 
 was ever any sadness. 
 
 So I thought, as I looked out 
 of my window that morning and 
 for many mornings after that, and 
 every day it all seemed more real 
 than ever before, and much nearer. 
 But the old nurse looked at me 
 askance, and muttered odd sayings 
 about the Woman of the Water. 
 I cared little what she said, for I 
 was far too happy. 
 
 At last the time came near for 
 the wedding. Lady Bluebell and
 
 tbe TIClatcrs of para&fse 133 
 
 all the tribe of Bluebells, as Mar- 
 garet called them, were at Blue- 
 bell Grange, for we had determined 
 to be married in the country, and 
 to come straight to the Castle 
 afterwards. We cared little for 
 travelling, and not at all for a 
 crowded ceremony at St. George's 
 in Hanover Square, with all the 
 tiresome formalities afterwards. I 
 used to ride over to the Grange 
 every day, and very often Margaret 
 would come with her aunt and 
 some of her cousins to the Castle. 
 I was suspicious of my own taste, 
 and was only too glad to let her 
 have her way about the altera- 
 tions and improvements in our 
 home. 
 
 We were to be married on the 
 thirtieth of July, and on the even- 
 ing of the twenty-eighth Margaret 
 drove over with some of the Blue-
 
 134 $*> tbe "Cdaters of 
 
 bell party. In the long summer 
 twilight we all went out into the 
 garden. Naturally enough, Mar- 
 garet and I were left to ourselves, 
 and we wandered down by the 
 marble basins. 
 
 " It is an odd coincidence." I 
 said ; " it was on this very night 
 last year that I first saw you." 
 
 " Considering that it is the 
 month of July," answered Mar- 
 garet with a laugh, " and that we 
 have been here almost every day, 
 I don't think the coincidence is so 
 extraordinary, after all." 
 
 " No, dear," said I, " I suppose 
 not. I don't know why it struck 
 me. We shall very likely be here 
 a year from to-day, and a year 
 from that. The odd thing, when 
 I think of it, is that you should 
 be here at all. But my luck has 
 turned. I ought not to think any-
 
 tbe TIClaters of para&ise 135 
 
 thing odd that happens now that 
 I have you. It is all sure to be 
 good." 
 
 " A slight change in your ideas 
 since that remarkable performance 
 of yours in Paris," said Margaret. 
 " Do you know, I thought you 
 were the most extraordinary man 
 I had ever met." 
 
 " I thought you were the most 
 charming woman I had ever seen. 
 I naturally did not want to lose 
 any time in frivolities. I took you 
 at your word, I followed your ad- 
 vice, I asked you to marry me, 
 and this is the delightful result 
 what 's the matter ? " 
 
 Margaret had started suddenly, 
 and her hand tightened on my 
 arm. An old woman was coming 
 up the path, and was close to us 
 before we saw her, for the moon 
 had risen, and was shining full in
 
 136 JBg tbe TIQaters of para&fse 
 
 our faces. The woman turned 
 put to be my old nurse. 
 
 " It's only old Judith, dear 
 don't be frightened," I said. Then 
 I spoke to the Welshwoman : 
 "What are you about, Judith? 
 Have you been feeding the 
 Woman of the \Vater ? " 
 
 " Ay when the clock strikes, 
 Willie my lord, I mean," mut- 
 tered the old creature, drawing 
 aside to let us pass, and fixing her 
 strange eyes on Margaret's face. 
 
 " \Vhat does she mean ? " asked 
 Margaret, when we had gone by. 
 
 " Nothing, darling. The old 
 thing is mildly crazy, but she is a 
 good soul." 
 
 We went on in silence for a 
 few moments, and came to the 
 rustic bridge just above the artifi- 
 cial grotto through which the 
 water ran out into the park, dark
 
 tbe Waters of para&iee 137 
 
 and swift in its narrow channel. 
 We stopped, and leaned on the 
 wooden rail. The moon was now 
 behind us, and shone full upon 
 the long vista of basins and on the 
 huge walls and towers of the 
 Castle above. 
 
 " How proud you ought to be 
 of such a grand old place ! " said 
 Margaret, softly. 
 
 " It is yours now, darling," I 
 answered. " You have as good a 
 right to love it as I but I only 
 love it because you are to live in 
 it, dear." 
 
 Her hand stole out and lay on 
 mine, and we were both silent. 
 Just then the clock began to strike 
 far off in the tower. I counted 
 eight nine ten eleven I 
 looked at my watch twelve 
 thirteen I laughed. The bell 
 went on striking.
 
 138 JBg tbc Maters of para&ise 
 
 " The old clock has gone crazy, 
 like Judith," I exclaimed. Still it 
 went on, note after note ringing 
 out monotonously through the 
 still air. We leaned over the rail, in- 
 stinctively looking in the direction 
 whence the sound came. On and 
 on it went. I counted nearly a 
 hundred, out of sheer curiosity, 
 for I understood that something 
 had broken, and that the thing 
 was running itself down. 
 
 Suddenly there was a crack as of 
 breaking wood, a cry and a heavy 
 splash, and I was alone, clinging 
 to the broken end of the rail of 
 the rustic bridge. 
 
 I do not think I hesitated while 
 my pulse beat twice. I sprang 
 clear of the bridge into the black 
 rushing water, dived to the bot- 
 tom, came up again with empty 
 hands, turned and swam down-
 
 JBe tbe Ttdaters of ftara&ise 139 
 
 wards through the grotto in the 
 thick darkness, plunging and div- 
 ing at every stroke, striking my 
 head and hands against jagged 
 stones and sharp corners, clutch- 
 ing at last something in my fin- 
 gers, and dragging it up with all 
 my might. I spoke, I cried aloud, 
 but there was no answer. I was 
 alone in the pitchy blackness with 
 my burden, and the house was 
 five hundred yards away. Strug- 
 gling still, I felt the ground be- 
 neath my feet, I saw a ray of 
 moonlight the grotto widened, 
 and the deep water became a 
 broad and shallow brook as I 
 stumbled over the stones and at 
 last laid Margaret's body on the 
 bank in the park beyond. 
 
 " Ay, Willie, as the clock 
 struck ! " said the voice of Judith, 
 the Welsh nurse, as she bent down
 
 140 JBg tbe TKHaters of 
 
 and looked at the white face. 
 The old woman must have turned 
 back and followed us, seen the 
 accident, and slipped out by the 
 lower gate of the garden. " Ay," 
 she groaned, " you have fed the 
 Woman of the Water this night, 
 Willie, while the clock was strik- 
 ing." 
 
 I scarcely heard her as I knelt be- 
 side the lifeless body of the woman 
 I loved, chafing the wet white tem- 
 ples, and gazing wildly into the 
 wide-staring eyes. I remember 
 only the first returning look of 
 consciousness, the first heaving 
 breath, the first movement of 
 those dear hands stretching out 
 towards me. 
 
 That is not much of a story, 
 you say. It is the story of my 
 life. That is all. It does not
 
 JBB tbc Waters of ipara&tse H* 
 
 pretend to be anything else. Old 
 Judith says my luck turned on 
 that summer's night, when I was 
 struggling in the water to save all 
 that was worth living for. A 
 month later there was a stone 
 bridge above the grotto, and Mar- 
 garet and I stood on it and looked 
 up at the moonlit Castle, as we 
 had done once before, and as we 
 have done many times since. For 
 all those things happened ten 
 years ago last summer, and this is 
 the tenth Christmas Eve we have 
 spent together by the roaring logs 
 in the old hall, talking of old 
 times ; and every year there are 
 more old times to talk of. There 
 are curly-headed boys, too, with 
 red-gold hair and dark-brown eyes 
 like their mother's, and a little 
 Margaret, with solemn black eyes 
 like mine. Why could not she
 
 142 JBg tbe Waters of para&tsc 
 
 look like her mother, too, as well 
 as the rest of them ? 
 
 The world is very bright at this 
 glorious Christmas time, and per- 
 haps there is little use in calling 
 up the sadness of long ago, unless 
 it be to make the jolly firelight 
 seem more cheerful, the good 
 wife's face look gladder, and to 
 give the children's laughter a mer- 
 rier ring, by contrast with all that 
 is gone. Perhaps, too, some sad- 
 faced, listless, melancholy youth, 
 who feels that the world is very 
 hollow, and that life is like a per- 
 petual funeral service, just as I 
 used to feel myself, may take 
 courage from my example, and 
 having found the woman of his 
 heart, ask her to marry him after 
 half an hour's acquaintance. 
 But, on the whole, I would not 
 advise any man to marry, for the
 
 simple reason that no man will 
 ever find a wife like mine, and be- 
 ing obliged to go further, he will 
 necessarily fare worse. My wife 
 has done miracles, but I will not 
 assert that any other woman is 
 able to follow her example. 
 
 Margaret always said that the 
 old place was beautiful, and that 
 I ought to be proud of it. I dare- 
 say she is right. She has even 
 more imagination than I. But I 
 have a good answer and a plain 
 one, which is this that all the 
 beauty of the Castle comes from 
 her. She has breathed upon it 
 all, as the children blow upon the 
 cold glass window-panes in win- 
 ter ; and as their warm breath 
 crystallises into landscapes from 
 fairyland, full of exquisites shapes 
 and traceries upon the blank sur- 
 face, so her spirit has transformed
 
 144 JBg tbc Maters of paraMse 
 
 every grey stone of the old towers, 
 ever ancient tree and hedge in the 
 gardens, every thought in my once 
 melancholy self. All that was 
 old is young, and all that was sad 
 is glad, and I am the gladdest of 
 all. Whatever heaven may be, 
 there is no earthly paradise with- 
 out woman, nor is there anywhere 
 a place so desolate, so dreary, so 
 unutterably miserable that a wo- 
 man cannot make it seem heaven 
 to the man she loves and who 
 loves her. 
 
 I hear certain cynics laugh, 
 and cry that all that has been said 
 before. Do not laugh, my good 
 cynic. You are too small a man 
 to laugh at such a great thing as 
 love. Prayers have been said be- 
 fore now by many, and perhaps 
 you say yours, too. I do not 
 think they lose anything by being
 
 3BE tbe TUHaters of iparaDise 145 
 
 repeated, nor you by repeating 
 them. You say that the world is 
 bitter, and full of the Waters of 
 Bitterness. Love, and so live that 
 you may be loved the world will 
 turn sweet for you, and you shall 
 rest like me by the Waters of 
 Paradise.
 
 THE INCOGNITO LIBRARY. 
 
 A series of small books by representative 
 writers, whose names will for the present not 
 be given. 
 
 In this series will be included the authorized 
 American editions of the future issues of Mr. 
 Unwin's " PSEUDONYM LIBRARY," which has 
 won for itself a noteworthy prestige. 
 
 I. THE SHEN'S PIGTAIL, and other cues of 
 
 Anglo-China Life, by Mr. M . 
 
 II. YOUNG SAM AND SABINA, by the author 
 
 of " Gentleman Upcott's Daughter." 
 
 These will be followed by 
 THE HON. STANBURY AND OTHERS, by Two. 
 HELEN, by Vocs. 
 LESSER'S DAUGHTER, etc. 
 
 32mo, limp cloth, each 50 cents.
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFOR 
 
 Form L9-Series 444
 
 3 1158 00106 2933 
 
 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACIL TY 
 
 A A 000034945 6