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 ERRANT. 
 
 A LIFE-STORY OF LATTER-DAY CHIVALRY. 
 
 BY 
 
 PEECY GKEG, 
 
 AUTHOR OF "ACROSS THE ZODIAC," ETC. 
 
 " And yet — the Light that led astray 
 Was Light from Heaven ! " 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 SAMPSON LOW, MAESTON, SEAELE & EIVINGTON, 
 CROWN BUILDINGS, 188, FLEET STREET. 
 
 1880. 
 
 {All ritjhts reserved.
 
 LONDON : 
 
 riilNTED liY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED, 
 STAMFOKD STKEET AND CHAKING CKOSS.
 
 8^5 
 
 CONTENTS OF VOL. I. 
 
 CHArXEIJ PACK 
 
 I. Spolia Opima ... ... ... ... 1 
 
 II. Fortes Creantur ... ... ... 16 
 
 III. On the Verge ... ... ... ... 34 
 
 -L V . JD ire ... ... ... ... ... f^'^ 
 
 V. En Route ... ... ... ... ... 68 
 
 p^ VI. The Burst of the Thunderstorm ... 78 
 
 ij VII. V^Victis! ... ... ... ... 99 
 
 5 VIII. The Spring of the Tiger ... ... 124 
 
 3 IX. The Lion at Bay ... - ... ... ... 146 
 
 ^ X: Loyal— a Mort ... ... ... 160 
 
 r' XL Aphrodite Thalassia ... ... ... 171 
 
 ^ XII. Guerdon ... ... ... ... 190 
 
 _ Xin. Plaudite!... ... ... ... ... 206 
 
 ci 
 
 XIV. In Peace ... ... ... ... 218 
 
 J 
 
 XV. At Home ... ... ... ... ... 233 
 
 XVI. Nemesis ... ... ... ... 243 
 
 ^XVII. Venus Victrix ... ... ... ... 261
 
 EEEANT. 
 
 CHAPTEK I. 
 
 SPOLIA OPIMA. 
 
 "Aimed well, the cliief tain's lance hath flown, 
 Struggling in blood the savage lies." 
 
 • 
 
 " A man's com]3reliension of India don't always answer 
 to the length of his service here. It is possible for a 
 man to be out twenty years, and know less than he 
 knew when he landed as a grif&n — having only unlearnt 
 the wholesome consciousness of his own ignorance. 
 Colonels who have spent half a lifetime here don't 
 know the very alphabet of Sepoy thought : there are 
 Members of Council about as well acquainted with 
 Native character and Native interests as — the present 
 or late President of the Board of Control ; and mer- 
 chants who go home with a fortune earned by a 
 quarter of a century's trading in Bombay, who under- 
 stand as much of Native commerce as they do of cotton- 
 growing. I think with Darcy that half the Native 
 Army is mad with fury, and the other half with fear ; 
 but I admit that all I have learnt from talking for 
 years to men of every race and rank, from a syce to 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 2 EKRANT. 
 
 a Secretary — all he has picked up in eighteen months 
 with a knowledge of Hindostanee such as not one 
 Captain of Sepoys in fiye possesses — may be as worth- 
 less as the views of those who have spent a lifetime 
 on the edge of a world beyond whose edge they never 
 penetrate." 
 
 " Of course, men who never crossed the Mahratta 
 ditch, and fancy that all India is Bengal, and all 
 Bengal is Calcutta, are more ignorant than if they 
 had picked up their knowledge from a score of old 
 Indians at Cheltenham. But that's not to the point." 
 
 " Certainly not, Major. I spoke of moral, not geo- 
 graphical distance. We live among the Natives, jostle 
 them, talk to them, depend on them for every breath 
 we draw. But the whole world of Native thought, life, 
 character is hidden from us ; and time, spent as most 
 of us spend it, don't enlighten us. Six months lived 
 with Natives gives a man at least as good a right to 
 guess what they are thinking as sixteen years lived 
 alongside of them; and the guess — is a guess, after 
 all." 
 
 The first speaker was a keen-looking, bright-eyed, 
 tall, and somewhat loosely framed man of rather more 
 than thirty, with a countenance eminently intellectual, 
 but somewhat worn and pale : a Londoner of the clubs 
 in manner, speech, and bearing, with a touch of the 
 literary Bohemian, though he had not seen for the 
 last twelve years "the sweet shady side of Pall Mall." 
 The other, though not actually in uniform, was evi- 
 dently by air, carriage, and even dress a soldier, but 
 one whom a long military life had not divested of the 
 innate vulgarity and offensiveness in which a vulgar
 
 SPOLIA OPIMA. 3 
 
 Scotchman excels even cockney impudence — red-faced, 
 coarse-featured, with hair of reddish-brown and thick 
 whiskers of brownish-red, his figure and visage of that 
 common type which tells little of the informing spirit 
 save the broad common characters of the class in 
 which their owner has been born and bred. Around 
 them, in the single sitting-room of a bachelor's bunga- 
 low in the minor station of Sivapore, sat, lay, or 
 lounged others, officers of the Company's and the 
 Queen's service, half-formed boys and heavily bearded 
 men. 
 
 One figure alone, out of some half-score, attracted 
 the eye ; partly by the full uniform of the 36th Lancers, 
 contrasting the civil or irregular dress of the others, 
 partly by the erect, it might be slightly constrained, 
 military attitude ; chiefly, perhaps, by the contrast 
 which attitude and dress presented to the face and 
 frame. The latter, though rather tall and well-pro- 
 portioned, looked at a first glance slight and wanting 
 in soldierly strength ; perhaps because the hands and 
 feet were notably small, and the long, slender, smooth 
 fingers and delicate palm, white, elegant, and soft as 
 a woman's, seemed suited to anything rather than the 
 bridle and the sword. The face was yet more feminine, 
 not merely or chiefly from the smoothness of extreme 
 youth, but from the beauty and delicate formation of 
 the features : the perfectly shaped, fine nostril, the 
 small mouth and white even teeth, the dark eyes and 
 long thick black lashes, and the soft hair of the same 
 raven hue, worn as long as military rule would allow. 
 Two particulars only gave the countenance a mas- 
 culine character. The slight protrusion of the lower
 
 4 ERRANT. 
 
 lip was not indeed concealed, but escaped notice, under 
 the shadow of the full silken moustache, black as the 
 hair, which shaded the upper ; the lower part of the 
 broad forehead was marked by the prominence of those 
 organs, immediately above the eyes, to which the 
 phrenologist assigns the functions of physical obser- 
 vation and instinctive comparison that constitute the 
 foundation of martial capacity, and by black, straight, 
 projecting eyebrows. There was a slight curve of scorn, 
 a still slighter quiver of impatience in the lines of the 
 mouth ; the lids, with their long fringe, veiled the fire 
 that had for a moment shone from the dark eyes ; the 
 face generally was calm and expressionless. 
 
 ** Isn't the wish mother — or should it be father? — 
 to the thought, Darcy ? " asked a fair-haired subal- 
 tern. " Persia has come down on her marrow-bones; 
 Dalhousie has robbed everybody within reach that 
 would pay for robbing ; and unless our fellows get a 
 licking in China, the mutiny they talk of will be oui- 
 only chance of fighting — and promotion." 
 
 This speech acted, as the daring boy meant it to 
 act, like a bombshell : containing a number of ex- 
 plosive questions sufficient to set every one, save him 
 to whom it was nominally addressed, talking at once, 
 in their loudest tones, their angriest and most dog- 
 matic nonsense. Happily the discussion, hot as the 
 glaring May sun without, and peppery as the dishes 
 just disposed of at tiffin, was promptly interrupted. 
 A stalwart Native servant, in the costume of an 
 Afghan warrior, and with a bearing at least as soldierly 
 as that of any present, entered ; and, saluting in mili- 
 tary fashion the silent Lancer, laid before him a huge
 
 SPOLIA OPIMA. 5 
 
 rough tiger-skin, barely dried, and a -vvhite skuU. The 
 latter was thrown aside for the moment; all gathered 
 round to examine the former. 
 
 *'Very much out of condition," pronounced the 
 youth, confidently. ^* Hardly worth keeping as a 
 trophy, or giving as a compliment, Darcy." 
 
 "A man-eater, and a monstrous one," said the 
 more experienced civilian. '' I heard of one that had 
 become the terror of the peasantry for miles around 
 Kalpore — where you were on Monday, Darcy. Where 
 did you put up this brute ? " 
 
 "He put us up not five miles from Kalpore on the 
 road hither," replied the young Lancer, in a very 
 quiet, distinct, but low and almost languid tone. 
 
 **I'll bet you a gold mohur I know where the ^in 
 goes, Darcy; even if you don't know yet, yourself. 
 There are two pretty American girls, with their father, 
 at the General's to-day ; and if you don't offer it to 
 the eldest before you have been an hour in her 
 company, her sister will ask for it." 
 
 " I hope not. It is unpleasant to refuse a lady's 
 request ; and this is bespoken." 
 
 "Aye; one's sister or sweetheart always secures 
 one's first skin a year or two in advance," returned 
 the boy, laughing. "But one never keeps such a 
 promise under present temptation; and I'll bet on 
 ihe American. Come, Darcy, a gold mohur, or a 
 sov, as you please." 
 
 " I don't break my promises ; I don't bet on cer- 
 tainties ; and I don't make a lady's influence the 
 subject of a wager or a debate," answered Darcy, his 
 brows slightly contracting. " I promised my first."
 
 6 EKRANT. 
 
 *' You said you shot this on the Kalpore road?" 
 inquired the Sepoy Major, in a somewhat sharp tone. 
 
 *'I don't think I said so," returned Darc}^ "Yes, 
 Clay, it is my prize," he added, in answer to an in- 
 quiring look from his young comrade. 
 
 " Where did you hit him ? " the Major interposed, 
 after closely examining the skin. " I can't find the 
 hole." 
 
 There was a sneer on his face that gave a very 
 offensive meaning to the question, and provoked 
 looks of displeasure from most of the company ; who 
 as English gentlemen regarded the word of a gentle- 
 man as conclusive, and as the members of a small 
 military society were all offended by the wanton 
 attempt to provoke a quarrel that must interfere 
 with the general spirit of cordial comradeship on 
 which the comfort of their life depended. The Lancer 
 looked the speaker straight in the face for half a 
 minute, with a glance of such undisguised contempt 
 as repaid the affront fourfold. 
 
 *' I suppose not," he said at last. " Afzul; " and he 
 addressed to his servant a few words in a tongue 
 which none of those present understood, and which 
 only one recognized as Arabic. The man folded the 
 tiger-skin, saluted, and departed with it. 
 
 " I wonder why you took that fellow, Darcy," said 
 a Captain of Bengal Irregular Cavalry. "He was 
 discharged from the army, and had but just come 
 out of prison." 
 
 " Do you know his story, Cameron ? No ? I do : 
 and I think no worse of a soldier, and a chief of the 
 Koreish, for resenting on parade the insult put upon
 
 SPOLIA OPIMA. 7 
 
 him by one who, though his superior officer, could 
 not pretend to be his superior, in birth, rank, or 
 miHtary experience." 
 
 His eyes were fixed on the Scotch Major as he 
 spoke ; but the look had lost the scornful meaning 
 so apparent a few moments before, and seemed to 
 the company purely accidental. Major Thomson 
 did not appear to observe it. He rose, knocked the 
 ashes from his cheroot, and turned to depart. 
 
 " It was well you had a rifle at hand, considering 
 that you went to Kalpore on duty, under orders to 
 return without delay," he observed.. 
 
 *'I had no rifle," Darcy said, quietly. 
 
 *'0h, indeed! You killed the man-eater with a 
 sling, or a cherry-stone. I have read something of 
 the kind, in the ' Arabian Nights ' or — what's his 
 name?" 
 
 '' Munchausen ? " suggested the Lancer, so coolly 
 ignoring the ostentatious insolence of the other that 
 Thomson departed in utter discomfiture, under a 
 salute of irrepressible laughter from the whole party. 
 
 " Damn the man," cried Clay, springing to his 
 feet. ''How did you kill the beast, Darcy? You 
 must tell us now, and give us the means to squelch 
 Thomson the first time he recurs to it, or he'll 
 whisper and hint through every Company's regiment 
 in Bengal that a Lancer bought the skin and bragged 
 of killing the brute." 
 
 "No one who knows either of us," retorted the 
 other, "will think of believing him." 
 
 " That is all very well, Darcy," interposed a senior, 
 " but his hint is just one of those spiteful calumnies
 
 8 EKKANT. 
 
 that every fool likes to believe. Besides, there are 
 boasters and cowards ; and men who don't know you 
 will think it more likely that you belong to that class 
 than that a lad of twenty, not two years out, killed a 
 tiger alone, and that none of his comrades know the 
 rights of the matter." 
 
 "I was not alone. Colonel. And if the American 
 family Clay speaks of are at the General's, hot as it 
 is, I shall go and pay my respects there. I shall be 
 on duty this evening till rather late : don't let them 
 starve me altogether if I fail to get back till you are 
 in full swing of cheroots and brandy-panee." 
 
 About half an hour before sunset, Afzul held his 
 master's splendid chestnut charger in front of the 
 General's verandah. Two pretty grey Arab ponies 
 with side-saddles were held by native grooms at a 
 little distance, and beside them was the General's 
 well-known black horse. Darcy came out, followed 
 by the grey-haired stately soldier who commanded 
 the station : a Company's officer who had lately won, 
 rather by seniority than by service, brilliant as had 
 been his exploits, the rank of Brigadier. 
 
 "These despatches," said the latter, "will keep 
 me for three quarters of an hour at least; and I 
 cannot let the children lose their ride. I dare say 
 they will prefer your escort to mine ; and as you are 
 not on duty till half-past six, you can so arrange 
 your ride as to reach your cantonment by a quarter 
 past, and I will meet you there with a relief which for 
 once will not be welcome." 
 
 As he spoke, the young ladies to whom he referred 
 appeared ; too late, fortunately, to hear the name he
 
 SPOLIA OPIMA. y 
 
 had applied to them. Children, however, in the eyes 
 of an older man than Darcy, they certainly were. 
 The elder, though the Southern climate in which she 
 was born and bred gave her a somewhat more 
 womanly appearance than belonged to her years, had 
 but just seen her fifteenth birthday. Her sister was a 
 year or two younger. The long, soft dark brown curls, 
 dark eyes and eyebrows of the former, contrasting 
 the light-brown wavy tresses and light English com- 
 plexion of the latter, made the difference of age 
 appear perhaps greater than it was. The admiration 
 and delight with which the young girls stroked and 
 praised the graceful ponies they were about to mount 
 were expressed with childish frankness ; but the elder 
 received the General's excuses with an air of s^f- 
 possession, and replied to them with a gracious 
 dignity, that seldom characterize maidens of her age, 
 except in the States. 
 
 " Darcy has a double advantage over me," said 
 the General, "in being a younger man and, I find, 
 an older acquaintance. You will pardon me more 
 easily than you care to say for the exchange." 
 
 "Papa has set you the example. General," the 
 young lady returned, as the Brigadier lifted her to her 
 saddle, while Darcy performed the same service for 
 her younger sister. 
 
 The party rode faster than is the custom in 
 England. It would be dark in an hour, and at that 
 season outdoor exercise in India is enjoyable only 
 for some half-hour before the setting and after the 
 rising of the tropical sun. Both the girls, but 
 especially the elder, conversed with the perfect ease
 
 10 ERKANT. 
 
 of maidens early accustomed to society, but also with 
 something of the simplicity of childhood as well as 
 of the pleasant frankness of personal friendship, 
 especially gratifying to their cavalier. 
 
 **Mr. Darcy," said the younger, after a while, 
 " Florence has made me promise to ask what she 
 don't like to ask for herself. We had set our hearts 
 on bringing at least one tiger- skin away from India, 
 and we should have that one to remember you by till 
 we see you again. We shall see you, I have no 
 doubt ; though you say it is impossible. Everybody 
 goes to the States one day or other, and you will not 
 come there without paying us a visit ? " 
 
 "Certainly not; though on the map the distance 
 between New York and Louisiana seems long to be 
 travelled, under any lighter attraction, in the short 
 time that is allowed for a soldier's leave — unless, 
 indeed, he have the misfortune to be on half-pay." 
 
 *' It seems," said the elder girl, "a little like what 
 we have heard of those English country folk, who 
 request a friend starting for Calcutta to take a message 
 or a parcel for a son or cousin at Delhi or Lahore. 
 But railways and steamers have made the joiu-ney 
 really a short one." 
 
 *' However long it be. Mademoiselle," returned 
 Darcy, with a bow, " I shall not fail to call upon you 
 if I have ever the good fortune to find myself within 
 two thousand miles, while there is yet a hope of find- 
 ing either of you in your present home." 
 
 " You may be sure," said the younger sister, " that 
 Florence will have told the story of the tiger to all 
 our neighbours within twenty miles at least ; and the
 
 SPOLIA OPIMA. 11 
 
 skin will be there if we are not, to secure you a 
 welcome throughout Louisiana." 
 
 There was a shade of perplexity or annoyance on 
 Darcy's face, not unperceived by the quick eyes of hi& 
 elder companion. But at this moment the part}^ 
 reached a point where the road divided. He was 
 about to take that to the left when Florence inter- 
 IDOsed — 
 
 " The other road is shadier and pleasanter. Can 
 we not get round that way in time ? " 
 
 '' Certainly," answered Darcy, promptly, though 
 with a certain scarcely perceptible hesitation or reluct- 
 ance in his tone. 
 
 They rode on more slowly, and Florence spoke 
 again. 
 
 " You have not answered Eva's request," she said. 
 
 *' 1 must entreat your pardon, and your sister's. I 
 admit your right to the skin ; but in truth it is not 
 such as I could like to give you. The brute was what 
 they call a man-eater ; one of those aged animals 
 which, unable longer to run down deer or other wild 
 prey, hang about the neighbourhood of roads or 
 villages to spring on solitary travellers or stray 
 children. Whether their diet disagree with them, 
 whether they are starved, or simply from age, the 
 skins of man-eaters are seldom worth having." 
 
 *'Do not say that ! " answered Florence, earnestly.. 
 " You know that the value of such a gift does not 
 depend on its beauty. I should like to have the skin 
 of the first tiger you had shot, even if there were not 
 a much deeper interest attached to it." 
 
 The girl's colour deepened, and tears stood in her
 
 12 ' ERRANT. 
 
 -eyes as she turned them on her companion. She was 
 far too much in earnest to permit him to evade a 
 reply. 
 
 *' As I said just now, Mademoiselle, your claim is 
 incontestable ; and I feel that I must seem worse than 
 ungracious in resisting it. I am sorry ^very sorry," 
 he added in a different tone, as he observed her look 
 of extreme surprise and mortification, " that the skin 
 is no longer in my gift. Many months ago I had 
 promised the first I might kill ; and I have kept my 
 promise." 
 
 *"You cannot have sent it home yet," she replied 
 quickly. " I am sure no English lady but would wish 
 you to give me this, with its terrible story. You may 
 send her another and a handsomer one." 
 
 " You honour me in wishing for it," replied Darcy, 
 '' and nothing could excuse my refusal if it had been 
 mine to give as I pleased. The person to whom I 
 made my promise is the last to whom I could break 
 it, because one who would feel the slight keenly, and 
 is wholly unable to resent it." 
 
 The young lady was silent, perhaps from natural 
 displeasure as well as mortified vanity. Her com- 
 panion's attention and courtesy in the short period of 
 their acquaintance had flattered her with a belief in 
 her own influence which, mere child as she was, was 
 very pleasant ; and the refusal appeared ungracious 
 and unkind. Before she had decided whether to 
 resent the supposed slight, before her better sense 
 and gratitude had time to overcome the feeling of 
 feminine pique, Darcy drew bridle for a moment in 
 front of a small Indian dwelling, enclosed in a rude
 
 SPOLIA OPIMA. 13^ 
 
 neglected garden of no great extent. Near the gate, 
 under the shade of a great banyan, stood a young 
 girl of darker complexion and slighter form than either 
 of his companions, with long straight black hair. Her 
 dress, half-English half-Indian, her colour and 
 features, and something in her manner that was cer- 
 tainly not English, perplexed the fair Americans ; who 
 had seen and heard enough of India to know that only 
 a Native girl belonging to the lowest caste, which 
 certainly was not here the case, would be thus seen 
 unveiled in public. 
 
 The young Eurasian, for such she was, had sj)rung 
 forward as she saw the party, and her movement had 
 arrested Darcy, who had intended to pass with a 
 silent salute. 
 
 "I thank you for your present," she said in a 
 sweet low voice, speaking English perfectly but with 
 a slight peculiarity of accent. "You will tell me, 
 when I see you next, how you killed him. When 
 will you come here again ? " 
 
 " Not this evening, Zela ; nor, probably, to- 
 morrow." 
 
 He added a few words in Hindostanee, and Zela, 
 whose eyes had been eagerly fixed, with a look not 
 especially kindly, on his companions, turned slowly 
 and re-entered the house as they rode on. 
 
 There was a certain constraint in the conversation 
 that followed, as Darcy showed no inclination to 
 explain what his companions could not ask. As the 
 cantonment came in view he spoke, recurring once 
 more to the topic which both had been content to 
 drop.
 
 14 ERRANT. 
 
 " I know that I have displeased if not grieved you 
 by what seems an ungracious denial of a natural and 
 reasonable request. Believe me, if you cannot for- 
 give : — I am more vexed to refuse you this memorial 
 of our short acquaintance than you can be to miss 
 a possession so naturally interesting to you. As you 
 said, any English lady would feel that you had the 
 best right to the man-eater's skin if you cared to 
 possess it ; and would fancy no slight or offence in 
 the postponement of my promise. But Zela, though 
 she is only a child, has quick and keen feelings ; and 
 her position renders her naturally and painfully 
 sensitive where those whose rank is assured would 
 never imagine neglect or discourtesy. By birth she 
 is at least our equal. By the fallen fortunes of her 
 family, and the prejudices of English and Native 
 society against the mixed race, she is placed in the 
 position of an inferior and almost of an outcast. 
 Other circumstances also would make her peculiarly 
 alive to anything like a slight from me ; and I could 
 not prevent her fancying that I had broken my 
 promise to her, lightly as it was made, out of regard 
 to your superiority of race and position. When so 
 unfortunate that I must seem discourteous to one 
 of two ladies, I think it best to displease her to whom 
 my conduct can only give offence and not pain, to 
 whom it may be an affront but not a humiliation." 
 
 The American girl looked up, her colour brighter, 
 her eyes even moister than under the mortification of 
 the first refusal, but with a very different expression. 
 
 "You are right, quite right," she said, her voice 
 trembling a little, with more emotion than the
 
 SPOLIA OPIMA. 15 
 
 incident might naturally have excited. *' I can feel 
 for your friend, and I would not accept anything, if 
 you would give it, at the cost of even a seeming slight 
 to her. But don't say, and don't think, that before 
 I understood your motive your refusal, gave me offence 
 and not pain. It hurt me to feel that you, to whom 
 we owe so much, were unkind to me. I was not 
 offended — or," she added frankly, " if I was offended 
 for a moment, I felt immediately how foolish and 
 ungrateful it was, and how little right I could have to 
 take offence."
 
 16 ERRANT. 
 
 CHAPTEE II. 
 
 FORTES CREANTUR. , 
 
 " Though the Great Houses love us not, we own, to do them right, 
 That the Great Houses, all save one, have borne them well in fight 
 
 The officers at Sivapore at this time were not 
 numerous. The station contained a battalion of 
 Bengal Native Infantry, a regiment of Irregular 
 Cavalry, chiefly Mahometans, from which, however, 
 a squadron was detached on other service, and a 
 portion of the Queen's 36th Lancers, under command 
 of a regimental Major, whose brilliant services had 
 obtained him the brevet rank of Lieutenant-Colonel. 
 But several officers from each of the Company's 
 regiments were absent, either on leave or on civil 
 duty, and scarcely a score from all the corps present 
 were assembled at the common mess. They had 
 guests this evening: among them the father of the 
 American girls, who, though quite unknown to the 
 General, save for an introduction from his last host 
 to whom he was equally a stranger, enjoyed the free- 
 handed Indian hospitality of the period. A German 
 traveller of rank, the guest of the commanding officer 
 of the Lancers, was also present ; as well as the 
 Editor of an influential journal in the north of India —
 
 FOKTES CREANTUR. 17 
 
 the same whose remarks on Anglo-Indian ignorance 
 of Native life and character introduced the conversa- 
 tion recorded in the last chapter. The dinner was 
 over; the servants — except the punkah-ivallahs, who 
 sitting outside the room drew to and fro the pendant 
 screens or Hinds that kept up a cooling current in 
 the hot atmosphere — had withdrawn. The American, 
 with a Queen's officer, was playing ecarte in a far 
 corner of the large room. The majority of the com- 
 pany had gathered round the German, who preferred 
 his huge pipe filled with Latakia to the choicest 
 cheroots of his hosts. 
 
 *'Yes," said the traveller, "it was ahout the least 
 pleasant of the many adventures with wild beasts I 
 have seen or shared. It was fortunate that the girls 
 were riding with their father, and not travelling in 
 palanquin as your English women and children do. 
 Like most Americans of the Southern States, they 
 and their father are excellent riders. As we entered 
 the jungle we were overtaken by a young officer in 
 your Lancer uniform. He and Mr. Dupont were 
 riding a little in the rear, I was in front with the 
 girls, when we heard the roar and crash. Their 
 ponies took fright and bolted at once, and my horse 
 followed them for a while before I could rein him up. 
 When I rode back, the beast was atop of Dupont's 
 horse, and the rider underneath. The tiger had torn 
 the horse frightfully, but apparently in trying to get 
 at the man. My revolver was unloaded; and I 
 should have been of little use in any case. But the 
 officer had dismounted, having, I suppose, more com- 
 mand of his animal than any of us, though it galloped 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 18 EKRANT. 
 
 past me wild with terror as I came up. The tiger 
 ■would have reached and torn Dupont to pieces in 
 another moment. Your comrade, on foot, was walk- 
 ing steadily towards them, his revolver levelled, 
 evidently intending to close as nearly as possible 
 before firing with such a weapon. "When he came 
 within some twenty paces the tiger observed him, 
 and, turning from its helpless prey, seemed crouching 
 for another spring. I never saw a cooler thing. 
 The officer stood still ; levelled steadily, taking careful 
 aim, and fired. I thought him mad, for, wherever 
 the bullet struck, it seemed impossible that a pistol 
 ball should kill or so disable the beast as to prevent 
 a spring that must certainly be fatal. But two 
 reports followed one another almost instantaneously ; 
 and to my surprise the tiger sprang indeed, but 
 dropped instantly and was quite dead in two or 
 three seconds. After I had helped to disentangle 
 Dupont from under his mangled horse, I looked for 
 the trace of the bullets, wondering where they could 
 have struck. Had they hit the brute anywhere in 
 the body, they would have been useless. Had they 
 struck the skull, probably they might have glanced 
 off, or at most inflicted a wound that would have only 
 served to madden the tiger. But your comrade had 
 aimed straight at the eyeball, and both bullets had 
 gone right through into the brain without cutting 
 the skin. It would have been a good shot had it 
 been fired at an iron target ; but I know no man who 
 could have aimed so accurately at twenty paces at 
 such a mark. I hoped to have met the man here 
 this evening, and told him what I thought of it."
 
 FOKTES CREANTUE. . 19 
 
 *'Darcy, by Jove!" cried Clay. "1 saw, when I 
 came to examine the skull, that the right eye-socket 
 was damaged in two places. Truth beats Munchausen 
 hollow. Major." 
 
 *'A parallel to that wdsdom of griffinhood Evans 
 so much esteems," growled the Scot. " Kecruits 
 often outdare in their first battle veterans who know 
 what danger is. A fellow who sees a tiger for the 
 first time knows no better than to attack it on foot 
 with a revolver ; and gets the name of a hero by 
 a fluke such as happens once in a century." 
 
 *' I grant. Major," retorted the enfant terrible of the 
 mess, ^^that a man of your experience would have 
 known better than to interfere between a man-eater 
 and his meal. Mr. Dupont," raising his voice, '^ I»feel 
 that I ought to apologize for the solecism committed 
 by one of ours in killing the tiger in so irregular a 
 fashion, since the offender was my chum, Lionel 
 Darcy." 
 
 "I know it, sir," returned the American. ** I met 
 him at Brigadier Halbert's to-day, and he rode out 
 with my girls this evening. I hopect to see him here." 
 
 "I am afraid," observed Major Thomson, with 
 quiet malice, "that Lionel Darcy 's discretion is not 
 so reliable as his marksmanship. Young as he is, 
 eighteen months of India might have taught him the 
 impropriety of introducing young ladies to equivocal 
 company." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " cried Clay, angrily. " I'll 
 bet you what you like, Mr. Dupont, that your 
 daughters are as safe with Darcy as — with the 
 Brigadier himself. It's a damned . . . inaccuracy."
 
 20 EERANT. 
 
 *' Silence, Clay ! " interposed Colonel Vane, per- 
 emptorily. " Major Thomson, you imply a grave 
 charge against an officer of ours. It sounds strange 
 that he should have been guilt}^ of conduct certainly 
 * unbecoming an officer and a gentleman ' under your 
 eyes ; almost as strange that one so much his senior 
 should not have interfered to prevent or correct the 
 error." 
 
 *' I applied no such epithet to his conduct, Colonel 
 Vane," answered the other sulkily. *'I don't think 
 Mr. Darcy saw me ; and I had not time to interfere." 
 
 *^ Explain yourself, if you will have the goodness," 
 said Dupont, quietly but sternly. "To whom were 
 my daughters introduced ; and when, and how ? "* 
 
 *'I don't know that there was any formal introduc- 
 tion. The young ladies were riding with Mr. Darcy, 
 and stopped with him, wdien he checked his horse to 
 talk with a person with whom his intimacy is some- 
 what notorious." 
 
 "It is curious that I, his friend and commanding 
 officer, know of no such intimacy," rejoined Vane, 
 significantly. 
 
 " The frequency of his visits to the house of the 
 Indian woman who i^asses as Manton's widow is 
 known to every officer in the station, except yourself." 
 
 "And to me. Long before he was * broken,' the 
 Kanee was legally married to Captain Manton. Was 
 it to her, or to Miss Manton, that Darcy spoke this 
 evening ? " 
 
 " To the daughter, of course. If Mr. Dupont thinks 
 the half-caste daughter of a cashiered officer, with 
 whom a young man like Darcy spends more time than
 
 FORTES CKEANTUR. 21 
 
 in the society of English families, a proper associate 
 for his daughters, it is no affair of mine." 
 
 " Certainly not, Major Thomson," replied the 
 Louisianian, his cheek slightly flushed, his lower lip 
 compressed by a projecting tooth. "Perhajos, Colonel 
 Vane, you or some other of Lieutenant Darcy's 
 friends will state — what I do not understand from this 
 gentleman — whether I have any reason to be annoyed 
 by his speaking to the young lady in question in my 
 daughters' presence ? " 
 
 " The young lady," said Clay, scarlet with anger, 
 "is a child to whom Darcy has shown the kindness 
 an English soldier may well feel for the daughter of 
 an unfortunate soldier, and a gentleman of birth and 
 breeding for the descendant of princes." • 
 
 '^ The unfortunate father was cashiered some years 
 ago for drunkenness, and shot himself in delirium 
 tremens a year before Darcy came out ; the Indian 
 grandfather was an impostor turned out of his usurped 
 talookdaree by the Commissioner ; and an Eurasian 
 girl of twelve is woman enough for mischief," 
 answered Thomson sullenly. 
 
 "Let me set your mind at rest, Mr. Dupont," said 
 Evans, the journalist, interposing for the first time, 
 though he had vigilantly heeded the controversy. 
 " Darcy may not be prudent, either for his own sake 
 or hers, in parading his contempt for the current pre- 
 judices that affect this girl and her mother. But, 
 except her mixed blood, there is nothing against her. 
 Child or not in fact, she is to him simply a child and 
 a pupil. His acquaintance with them arose out of 
 compassion for the calamity entailed on them by the
 
 22 EEKANT. 
 
 father's vices ; his strong interest in them is due to 
 his sympathy with a house as old and as unfortunate 
 as his own. Though scarcely twenty, he knows quite 
 as well as Major Thomson what becomes a gentleman, 
 and would be the last man in India to forget it. That 
 he spoke to Zela Manton in Miss Dupont's presence 
 is proof absolute of the loyalty of the friendship he 
 has offended all the station by proclaiming. The girl 
 was growing up as rude and uncultured as poor ; he 
 has spent his leisure in giving her that English and 
 Christian culture of which her mother is of course 
 ignorant ; anxious, as he would put it, that she shall 
 grow up as befits the daughter of those who were 
 great Indian nobles when his own ancestor entered 
 the service of Charlemagne." 
 
 *' Strangely combined affectations for a British 
 subaltern," sneered Thomson; "the pretender to a 
 fabulous lineage playing tutor to a half-caste school- 
 girl!" 
 
 " Darcy is a scholar ; I know nothing of his skill as 
 a teacher," returned Evans. '' But, my father having 
 been an English King-at-Arms, I know something of 
 genealogy; and you v/ill find his in so well-known a 
 book as that of my mother's father — Lord-Lion 
 under George IV. Indeed, the pedigree of the Darcies 
 of Ulswater, since their founder became the sworn 
 knight of Margaret of Anjou, is as much matter of 
 history as the Queen's descent from the House of 
 Cerdic. Cameron, I don't doubt you have heard, 
 among the Jacobite legends of your nursery, the storj^ 
 of the last Lord Ulswater and his son — the grand- 
 father of Lionel's grandfather."
 
 FOETES CKEANTUE. 23 
 
 *' Ach so/^' said the German, with a long sigh of 
 satisfaction, that for a moment enveloped him in a 
 dense cloud of smoke. " Gentle blood must fill the 
 pulse that beat so steadily within reach of the tiger's 
 claws. Let us hear the saga, Captain Cameron." 
 
 "It is a true story, Count, though I had never 
 dreamt of Darcy's connection with it, which says much 
 for his reticence. The Darcies, though Catholics, were 
 always more loyal to the Crown than to their Church, 
 and kept lands and lives under the Tudors. With the 
 Stuarts they were in high favour, which of course cost 
 them dear in the end. Two of them died on the 
 scaffold and three in the field for Charles I. ; and but 
 a single heir of the house returned to reclaim estate 
 and title at the Eestoration. He and two of his ^jons 
 were killed in 1689. The youngest, a lad of seventeen, 
 was carried severety wounded from Killecrankie. 
 William of Orange did not desire the odium of putting 
 a boy to death, and could not confiscate the estates 
 for the benefit of his Dutch favourites without an 
 attainder. In 1715, Lord Ulswater joined the abortive 
 insurrection in Scotland. Then the greater part of 
 the lands were forfeited, and he escajaed to France, 
 where the elder branch of his family were high in 
 fortune, rank, and royal favour. He, at the age of 
 seventy-three, and his son about thirty, served through 
 the whole of Charles Edward's campaign ; and charged 
 beside Lord George Murray at Culloden. After the 
 battle, with two or three of their own retainers, they 
 were safely hidden among rocks and heather, when 
 Cumberland and part of his staff and escort rode 
 by. Any other man would have lain quiet. But
 
 24 • ERKANT. 
 
 there was on the staff the then holder of Lord 
 Ulswater's estates, whom he accused of especial 
 treachery and bad faith in profiting by his attainder. 
 He fired within a few paces, and the man fell dead by 
 his chief's side. The ball of the second pistol is said 
 to have gone through the Duke's cocked hat. The 
 Jacobite party fought to the death, but of course 
 were overpowered in a few seconds. Father and son, 
 both badly wounded, were made prisoners and carried 
 to London. It was known or suspected by a minister 
 high in office and influence under George II. that 
 young Darcy possessed a secret fatally compromising 
 one of the most illustrious ladies of the Court — a lady 
 whose petition for his life could hardly be refused. 
 To get hold of this secret, which could be used with 
 terrible effect in many probable contingencies, the 
 minister would have given both pardon and reward. 
 But when he sent an officer to hint at such a bargain, 
 Darcy, fettered as he was, at the first word struck the 
 man with his manacles, and left on his face a visible 
 token of infamy which the suborner carried to his 
 grave. Darcy' s young sister, a mere girl, managed 
 to come over and to obtain an interview with him in 
 the Tower. She asked afterwards for an audience of 
 the lady in question, which was granted. But this 
 grace was only a snare. As she entered the Palace, 
 the minister had her seized, brought to his office, and 
 searched with gross rudeness and insult. They found 
 nothing but an envelope bearing the seal of her family, 
 with its legend ' Loyal a mort.' The minister opened 
 and found in it merely some burnt paper, the relics 
 of three or four letters, of which only a cipher in the
 
 FORTES CREANTUR. 25 
 
 corner of each was still distinguishable. These frag- 
 ments, proving the destruction of her letters, and the 
 motto, avouching the sender's silence and the lady's 
 security, were the whole of the message, perfectly 
 clear to her, perfectly useless to her enemy. The 
 minister caused the envelope to be refastened with the 
 seal apparently intact, and had it conveyed to its 
 owner as coming directly from Miss Darcy, who was 
 said to have entrusted to the supposed letter the pur- 
 pose of the intended audience. It proved that in thus 
 assuring the lady of her safety Darcy had deliberately 
 renounced his last chance of life. A few days after- 
 wards he was brought to trial, and died with his father 
 on Tower Hill. The minister had made, however, a 
 mortal enemy of the personage in question, and jt 
 was not long before his official career was at an end 
 for ever. Seventeen or eighteen years later, he was 
 introduced by our ambassador at the house of one of 
 the reigning queens of Parisian fashion, the aunt of 
 a youth who had lately succeeded to the Marquisate 
 and other titles of the House of Ultramar. Treated 
 with cold but marked politeness both by this lady and 
 her nephew, he remarked as he left the salon that 
 he had surely seen the face of its mistress before. 
 The next morning he received a visit from an officer in 
 the Eoyal Guard, who brought him a challenge from 
 the Marquis of Ultramar. Unwilling to accept the 
 challenge, he was warned that if he refused he should 
 receive such public insult as would leave him no 
 alternative but to fight, or incur utter disgrace and 
 social excommunication. As challenged, he had the 
 choice of weapons, and chose the pistol, then seldom
 
 26 ERRANT. 
 
 used in France. On the ground, tlie Marquis told in 
 a very few words the story of the insult offered to his 
 aunt, and of his father's death, denouncing his an- 
 tagonist as the author of both crimes. At the first 
 shot, both the combatants seemed unhurt. At the 
 second, the Marquis's right arm dropped to his side, 
 broken by the English bullet. Both seconds then 
 endeavoured to stop the duel. The Marquis in- 
 sisted, and the third time, with his left hand, shot 
 his opponent through the brain. The first shot had 
 pierced the victor's side, but evoked no sign." 
 
 " Savage and senseless ferocity," Thomson pro- 
 nounced ; but the sympathy of the audience generall}^ 
 went evidently with the relator. 
 
 *^It is clear, I think," said Vane, "that the 
 Marquis and his father felt, as all gentlemen feel, 
 that a man's life is cheap in comparison to a woman's 
 honour. But what is Darcy's exact connection with 
 the French nobleman in question ? " 
 
 "The House of Ultramar," said Dupont, "were, 
 I remember, all but exterminated in the French 
 Kevolution, and its last chief perished in the war of 
 La Vendee. His heir, however, was brought up in 
 England, and was, I think, restored to his French 
 honours, though not his estates, by Louis XYHI." 
 
 "Yes," replied Evans, "and he was Darcy's grand- 
 father. His son still retains that old Grange and 
 those few hundred acres of mountain and dale that 
 escaped the confiscation of 1715." 
 
 "But," said Thomson, "scores, not to say hundreds, 
 of English families not particularly distinguished can 
 trace their descent as far as Henry VII. You claimed
 
 FORTES CEEANTUR. 27 
 
 for your friend a pedigree traceable to the days of 
 Charlemagne." 
 
 " The steadfast adherent of the House of Lancaster," 
 rejoined Evans, ''who received the "Westmoreland 
 estate from Henry VH. after the battle of Bosworth, 
 was a younger son of the then Marquis of Ultramar. 
 I dare say Mr. Dupont can tell you w^hat part that 
 house played in the history of France." 
 
 " Since the reunion of Burgundy and Provence," 
 was the reply, " scarcely any noble house in France 
 has a more continuous or more honourable historical 
 record. In no generation did it fail to furnish the 
 King and kingdom with distinguished statesmen and 
 soldiers; and its chiefs were Peers of France while 
 France had a Peerage." 
 
 "And," said Evans, turning to the German, "pro- 
 bably the Count von Arnheim can vouch for the 
 earlier history of a family which held fief under the 
 Empire till Burgundy became French ? " 
 
 '' Ach so,'' replied the German. "The chiefs of 
 that house have left their mark in history since the 
 days of Carl der Grosse. If we can rely on any 
 chronicle of those days, it is true that their ancestor 
 was a Dane who took service with the first German 
 Emperor of the Eomans, during his wars in Saxonj^ 
 They disappeared for a short time from German 
 history after the first crusade, when their chief won 
 a fief in Palestine under the Latin kingdom of 
 Jerusalem. His descendants held his fortress till 
 every other vestige of that kingdom was swept away 
 by the Saracens. Their heir returned to become a 
 Count of the Empire, and to give to his castle on the
 
 28 ERRANT. 
 
 frontiers of Burgundy and Provence the name borne 
 by the last Christian barony in the Holy Land." 
 
 **Well," said Thomson, *' affectation is generally 
 supposed to be the weakness of middle class men 
 uncertain of their position; simplicity is claimed as 
 the virtue natural to high birth; and Darcy is as 
 affected a puppy as any son of a Parisian roturier. 
 Even his religion seems chosen for the sake of singu- 
 larity; and if he went to Church and did not 
 ostentatiously dine on fish on Fridays, no one would 
 find out that he was a Papist by any act or word that 
 proves him a Christian." 
 
 ** A Scotch Presbyterian should not blame him for 
 holding loosely to a bad creed which happens to be 
 the creed of his fathers," returned Evans. "But if 
 they are not belied, their family tradition rather than 
 their nominal faith has been the religion of his fore- 
 fathers, French and English." 
 
 '' Is there not," asked Clay, '* some ballad, or some- 
 thing of the sort, that gives a not very amiable 
 picture of their qualities, of which they are as proud 
 a,s a Highlander of ancestors who for a score of 
 generations were hung at Stirling for cow-stealing, 
 or what they called cattle-lifting ? " 
 
 This boyish sarcasm so stung one or two other 
 young officers present, that Vane, though as averse 
 .as most men to after-dinner recitals, pressed Evans 
 if he knew them to repeat the verses, by way of 
 diversion. 
 
 *'What I remember," said the latter, "is a mere 
 fragment, but it runs somewhat to this effect. The 
 arms of the Darcies, by the way, are, like most very
 
 FORTES CREANTUR. 29 
 
 old coats, exceedingly simple : — Azure, a silver star 
 in dexter chief, and sword bend- wise. 
 
 " ' Crystal-clear and azure-leal, 
 Name of silver, soul of steel. 
 Honour stainless as the sword, 
 Woman's faith as manhood's wordj 
 <> Dauntless daring, ruthless pride. 
 
 Lips that never blanched or lied, 
 Never wronged a foeman's fame, 
 Never told a lady's shame ; 
 Eyes that ne'er from question quail. 
 Rarely plead and not prevail. 
 Eyes that front with equal glance 
 Headsman's axe and hostile lance, 
 Battle-cross and bosom. scar — 
 Mark the race of Ultramar. 
 
 *' ' Iron hand in mortal feud, 
 Velvet-soft to womanhood — 
 Rock, that passion's lightnings rend. 
 Steel, that maiden-fingers bend — ■ 
 Man may bootless plead and 'plain, 
 Never woman sued in vain ! 
 Prank of faith as true to trust. 
 Lady's smile and traitor's thrust 
 Mailless still, in peace and war, 
 Find the heart of Ultramar. 
 
 " ' Never spared they spoken doom ; 
 Never smote, but hard and home ; 
 Never sought, in sorest need. 
 Comrade's aid or fealty's meed. 
 Never pardon have they given ; 
 Never sued it, save from Heaven. 
 Dangerous most when crushed and thrown,. 
 Strongest when they stand alone, 
 Calm, when life is on the cast. 
 Deadliest when they strike their last. 
 
 " ' Thrice shall set the silver Star, 
 Thrice to westward rise afar. 
 From the crimson dawn it came ; 
 Crimson clouds of sunset flame 
 Where the ebbing tide of war 
 Whelms the crest of Ultramar.' "
 
 30 ERRANT. 
 
 As the last word was spoken, amid the undisguised 
 jawns of the elder part of the company, the affected 
 indifference of some and the obvious interest of others 
 among the youngsters, the subject of the conversation 
 entered. 
 
 *' You are very late, Darcy," remarked one of his 
 comrades. "You cannot have been on duty so long. 
 Have you been loitering with your Princess of the 
 fairytale?" 
 
 Darcy' s brow darkened, and the fire in his eyes 
 was such as the speaker hardly cared to meet ; but 
 he answered coldly — 
 
 *' You, at least, Kirkpatrick, if you follow the bad 
 modern fashion of mentioning ladies' names in public, 
 might respect that of an Indian House yet older than 
 your own. No, I have not been with the Eanee or 
 her daughter." 
 
 ''Is she a Eanee?" said another; "and if so, 
 how came she to marry a man like Manton ? " 
 
 "She is," replied Darcy, "the granddaughter of 
 the last Eajah of Bundaghar, one of those unfortunate 
 noblemen who were systematically robbed of their 
 estates by that democratic school of civilians com- 
 pared to whom Warren Hastings was a loyal and 
 scrupulous gentleman. These men hated — or hate, 
 for Lord Dalhousie has taken care that they are not 
 extinct — a nobleman or an ancient family with the 
 hatred of a. French Eepublican, and went to work 
 systematically to oust every Eajah or Nawab, every 
 Zemindar or Talookdar, within their reach, wherever 
 they could find a jolea or invent a pretext. I think 
 we shall reap the consequences ere long ; and if they
 
 FORTES CEEANTUFv. 31 
 
 were the only victims of Indian vengeance — well, it 
 ilon't bear talking of. This family were reduced by 
 the Mahometan conquest from the rank of inde- 
 pendent princes to that of great and wealthy nobles — 
 Howards or Stanleys. The British Commissioner 
 stole — or is it called confiscating? — lands they had 
 held for ages before his first ancestor put his name 
 over a shop -door in Glasgow. How the ruined family 
 lost caste as well as fortune, and their last descendant 
 became the j^^otegee of a French priest, is a long if 
 a romantic tale. That apart, theirs is the history 
 of a thousand Indian families ; I have some hope 
 
 that Lord • may be induced to redress this one 
 
 wrong, if the facts can be properly brought before 
 him." « 
 
 ''It would go ill with India," said Thomson, ''if 
 the judgment of a British Commissioner were to be 
 reversed to pleasure a nigger who pretended to an 
 estate for which he could show no sort of title-deed." 
 
 "Immemorial possession, by the law of every 
 civilized nation," returned Darcy, "is the best of all 
 titles ; and the heir of a long line of warrior -princes 
 was something more than the equal of the son of 
 a Glasgow tradesman, even though he had crawled 
 up to the rank of Commissioner by exaggerating the 
 policy of his masters." 
 
 Thomson sprang up in passion; but Vane inter- 
 posed. 
 
 "You can hardly be aware, Darcy, that the dis- 
 tinguished civiHan of whom you speak was Major 
 Thomson's uncle ? " 
 
 "I had no idea of it," said Darcy quietly. "I
 
 32 ERKANT. 
 
 cannot unsay what I have said, for it is true. But 
 if I had known that, I would not have said it here." 
 
 With a sullen scowl and in silence, the Sepoy 
 officer appeared to accept the amends. Shortly after- 
 wards, the party broke up at the usual early Indian 
 hour, and Darcy turned to walk towards the General's 
 quarters with his American acquaintance. 
 
 **I should not," he said, "have come to the mess, 
 Mr. Dupont, save for this opportunity of speaking 
 to you in private. What I say I must beg you not 
 to repeat as coming from me, for it is a subject of 
 bitter discussion here. Of course I don't expect you 
 to take my assurance ; but ask Evans or Yane, or 
 almost any one but a military officer of the Company, 
 and they will tell you that we are on the verge of 
 a general mutiny of the Sepoy Army in Bengal. 
 If this happens, and it may happen at any moment, 
 the life of no white man, the honour of no white 
 woman, will be safe for an hour outside Calcutta; 
 and if it be not an impertinence to advise you, I 
 would give much to know that you and your daughters 
 were there, or better at sea, before next week is out." 
 
 *' But in such a case," said the American, " what 
 will be your fate and that of the few Europeans here, 
 and in the hundred other stations where from twenty 
 to four hundred white men are at the mercy of strong 
 Sepoy garrisons ? " 
 
 *' Massacre and reconquest," replied Darcy quietly. 
 " But, for our women, those among us who are not 
 blind are agonized with fear ; and you who have no 
 ties, no duties here, why should you remain a day 
 longer than you can help ? I should be glad if I
 
 FOKTES CEEANTUE. 33 
 
 were now bidding you good-bye and leaving with you 
 my last compliments to your daughters." 
 
 "I have heard enough," Dupont rejoined, in a 
 troubled tone, "to guess that there is grave founda- 
 tion for your fears, even if they be exaggerated. And, 
 as you say, there is no reason why my daughters 
 should run risk so terrible. Possibly we may not 
 meet again here. If not, let me thank you for my 
 life, and beg you if possible to let me repeat the 
 expression of my gratitude in my own home." 
 
 "What else could a man have done?" answered 
 Darcy. "Pray drop that subject, and believe that 
 any English officer would have tried, if he had not 
 been so good a marksman as practice has rendered 
 me, or so fortunate as, by what was certainly, a 
 chance, I proved." 
 
 VOL. I. . D
 
 34 ERRANT. 
 
 CHAPTEK III. 
 
 ON THE VERGE. 
 
 " Standing with reluctant feet 
 Where the brook and river meet, 
 Womanhood and childhood fleet." 
 
 " No, Zela, I am in no hurry to-day. As a Catholic, 
 I don't attend the Church parade ; and our own priest 
 only visits this station on the first Sunday of each 
 month. He was here last week ; and I don't care 
 to go back to my bungalow till the society of the 
 station is safe at home, discussing tiffin and the 
 Chaplain's sermon." 
 
 Eude, and poor in every way, the room in which 
 the speaker was seated, his fair pupil leaning on the 
 back of his rough chair, showed signs both of Indian 
 and European civilization. It had been the principal 
 room of an English bungalow, now much dilapidated, 
 and was built in the usual Anglo-Indian fashion. 
 The worn carpets of Indian make and arrangement had 
 once been handsome and valuable ; the table and two 
 or three chairs were such as might some twenty years 
 before have been the rough furniture of a subaltern's 
 habitation. On the former were scattered a few 
 English books, one or two of them, by their elaborate
 
 ON THE VERGE. 35 
 
 binding, evidently school prizes, the rest such lesson- 
 books as might be picked up at an out-of-the-way 
 station in the Mofussil. The handwriting of the 
 exercises that lay before Darcy was distinctly childish, 
 that of a decently educated English girl of ten ; and 
 if an observer long familiar with the various Indian 
 races might have guessed that the pupil whose long 
 hair brushed her young teacher's shoulder as he 
 spoke was no longer what Indian custom would call 
 a child, the simple expression or want of expression 
 in her face, her manner, attitude, and even, to a 
 European eye, the outlines of her slender form, were 
 thoroughly childlike. Perhaps her dress, leaving 
 neck, arms, and ankles bare, the feet covered only 
 by the slippers peculiar to Native costume, con- 
 tributed to this impression. Aware of a dislike, 
 which her friend was not conscious that he had ever 
 expressed, for Native habits and such indications of 
 Native taste in the attire of his half-English pupil, 
 Zela, probably with some reluctance, had discarded 
 at least in his presence the silver bracelets and 
 anklets which, despite their poverty, the family still 
 boasted to a greater value than that of the plate 
 retained by an impoverished English household of ten 
 times their means. 
 
 *'You will tell me, then, more about the tiger," 
 the girl replied. "The Soubahdar-Major's wife was 
 here last night, and she told my mother that all the 
 Sepoys are talking about it ; and saying that no 
 other sahib, no shikaree however daring and ex- 
 perienced, would have ventured on such a deed. I 
 suppose Afzul Khan had told them the story, for
 
 f> 
 
 6 ERRANT. 
 
 they say that he was one of the bravest men in the 
 battalion ; and he said no bribe would have induced 
 him to do it. Don't, pray don't, do such a thing 
 
 again." 
 
 "Not if I can help it, Zela. I am as well aware 
 how mere a chance was my escape as Major Thomson, 
 who sneered at it as the most foolish piece of ignorant 
 rashness ever heard of. Of course, though I am a 
 pretty good shot, the chances were at least five to 
 one that I missed, and if I missed . . ." 
 
 "Ah!" said Zela, shivering, "don't talk of that. 
 But if you knew the danger so well, why did you 
 do it? How could you helj) being frightened to 
 death?" 
 
 "I did not help it. I don't pretend to that love 
 of danger for its own sake which would have made 
 such an encounter delightful to some of my young 
 comrades. If I could have got away quietly, I cer- 
 tainly should. But, as I told you, the tiger had got 
 a man down and would have torn him to pieces in 
 another minute ; and of course I could not run away 
 and leave him."* 
 
 "Why not?" asked Zela. "Major Thomson at 
 least would have done so, or he could not call 3^ou 
 foolish ; and all the men say that no one else would 
 have done as you did." 
 
 "Men who know they are fearless," said Darcy^ 
 somewhat reluctantly, "may afford to run away;, 
 though I hardly think any English gentleman could 
 have left a fellow-creature in such straits without 
 feeling bitter shame in the remembrance for the rest 
 of his life. I know that I am afraid of death and
 
 ON THE VERGE. 37 
 
 pain ; and for that reason I made up my mind long 
 ago that I must never run away from danger. A 
 man has not time, when the danger comes, to think 
 whether he has a right to shirk it ; and if he is timid 
 by nature, he is sure to run when he ought not and 
 to disgrace himself, unless he has laid down a rule for 
 himself beforehand." 
 
 Unconsciously, the young soldier spoke to relieve 
 his own mind, by uttering to one with whom the 
 secret was safe what he could not have spoken in any 
 other ear, rather than with an}^ belief that Zela would 
 understand his words. More than half his meaning 
 was lost on her, but the rest was intelligible even to 
 her childish mind. 
 
 "It must be braver," she said, "to conquer /ear 
 than not to be afraid ; but if you had been much 
 iifraid you would hardly have shot so straight and 
 steadily." 
 
 "I practised for years to be able to do so; and, 
 fortunately, I had not much time to be frightened. 
 But never in my life did I feel such a sinking of the 
 heart, such a disposition to tremble, as when I was 
 walking up to the beast, trying to get as near as 
 possible before he should observe me, and knowing 
 that if he caught sight of me ten seconds too soon, 
 or if my first shot missed, I should feel his claws and 
 teeth in my flesh in the next moment. Besides," he 
 added, more lightly, "the young ladies you saw with 
 me on Friday were almost within sight. It was 
 their father that was under the tiger; and you 
 would hardly have had me run away under a lady's 
 eyes ? "
 
 o 
 O 
 
 8 EREANT. 
 
 "All, I understand!" Zela said, half sadly, half 
 angrily. " I wonder they did not ask for the skin." 
 
 *' They did, Zela. But do you forget that you made 
 me promise you the first I shot ? " 
 
 "Forget? No, indeed! But I could never have 
 thought you would remember that when she wanted 
 it." 
 
 If there were a shade of something deeper than 
 merely childish jealousy in this little outbreak, yet to 
 Darcy — to whom on their first acquamtance she had 
 seemed as infantine as an English girl of the same 
 age, and for whom she still remained what she had 
 been a year before — the words expressed no more than 
 that resentment of rival claims so common to her sex 
 in their very babyhood. He answered with a smile, 
 patting the little hand that lay on the table — 
 
 " ' She,' Zela, is a chance acquaintance whom I saw 
 for the first time that day, and have seen, I fancy, for 
 the last time. It would have been odd if, to please a 
 stranger, I had vexed my pupil of the last year, to 
 say nothing of breaking my word." 
 
 "You won't see her again?" said Zela. "Is that 
 true ? Have they left the station ? " 
 
 " No. I meant to have called at the General's last 
 night, but I had not time ; and if, as I ho]pe, they go 
 to-morrow, since I am on duty this afternoon and 
 evening, I shall hardly have a chance to take leave." 
 
 "And you came here when you might have gone 
 there this morning ? Ah, you are kinder to me than 
 I thought ; " and, as she leaned on his chair, she bent 
 forward and kissed him with the frank impulsive 
 warmth of a penitent child. By contradiction, pro-
 
 ON THE VEEGE. 3& 
 
 » 
 
 bably, rather than confirmation — he could not have 
 told which — -the unwonted caress reminded Darcy of 
 the slanders of which he had so lately heard. That 
 recollection gave a slight and wholly involuntary 
 coldness to his tone as next moment he changed 
 somewhat abruptly the subject and spirit of the 
 conversation. 
 
 " Now, Zela, let us finish our lessons, and let me 
 hear the verses you were to have learnt by this 
 morning. And don't lounge, child ; you never get on 
 so well in that way." 
 
 Zela sprang up into the attitude in which, like 
 many an English child, she was accustomed to repeat 
 a lesson learnt by rote, standing erect with her hands 
 behind her. But the expressive fire in her eyes, the 
 quick flush on her cheek, contradicted the prompt 
 obedience and indicated the mortification suggestive 
 of incipient self -consciousness. Always wont, how- 
 ever, to comply implicitly with every wish of her 
 tutor, she repeated the lines required, though in a 
 somewhat careless or absent manner. When she had 
 done — 
 
 ''You would not," she said, ''have told that young 
 lady to stand up." 
 
 " Sit down, then, in future," he answered, laugh- 
 ing. "It was your mother, not I, who taught you 
 to stand. And — Miss Dupont is not my pupil, Zela. 
 Besides ..." 
 
 " You were going to say she would not have leaned 
 on your chair as I did," answered Zela, sharply. " I 
 won't do it again." 
 
 "Must I repeat, Zela, that the young lady you
 
 40 ERRANT. 
 
 mean is not my pupil, and only a very slight ac- 
 quaintance? And, moreover, she is not a child." 
 
 "And I am, of course," said Zela ; ''though, if she 
 had not been English, I should have said she was not 
 older than I." 
 
 The slight flush upon Darcy's cheek, and the com- 
 pression of his lip, betrayed an annoyance which 
 might not have been visible to eyes less quick and 
 less intent than those of his companion. 
 
 ''Perhaps," he said, quietly, "you are, or fancy 
 yourself, no longer child enough to be my pupil. I 
 have been thinking so, Zela, lately; and, though I 
 shall be sorry to give up a task that has been pleasant, 
 as I hope it has done you some little good . . ." 
 
 "You are tired of me," cried the girl, impetuously, 
 interrupting his somewhat hesitating speech. "Well, 
 it is no wonder you are weary of teaching day after 
 day for so many months one who had no claim upon 
 your kindness. But if you give me up so soon, I 
 wish you had never come here." 
 
 "Will you make me wish it too, Zela? Perhaps 
 you are right, but I meant kindly by you." 
 
 "You don't mean it?" sobbed Zela, throwing her- 
 self on her knees, and looking up eagerly into liis 
 face. "You will not part with your pupil for one 
 petulant word, one fit of passion, when you have 
 forgiven so many, and done so much to cure them ? 
 No ! punish me as you please, but do forgive me ; do 
 not say you will not teach me any more ! " 
 
 Darcy's reply was intercepted by another voice; 
 and, turning, he saw that a third person had entered 
 the room. She was an Indian woman in the usual
 
 ON THE VERGE. 41 
 
 native costume, but only half-veiled; by face and 
 figure perhaps thirty, but, like most Native women, 
 more worn and aged than many an English matron 
 in her fifth decennium. The young soldier rose, 
 saluting her as formally and respectfully as he would 
 the wife of his Colonel. 
 
 " Zela is vexing you again, Lieutenant sahib," she 
 said, in good English but with a decided accent. 
 ^' She is always passionate and troublesome, and she 
 abuses your gentleness because she fancies she may 
 do as she pleases with you. Go in, child," turning 
 to her daughter, and speaking in Hindoostanee. 
 ''How many times have I told you that you should 
 bear yourself toward the sahib as a slave to her 
 master ? that the temper that makes trouble enough 
 behind the curtain will ruin us if it offends him ? 
 Go in ; you shall learn to obey me this time, if you 
 have no respect for him whose salt you eat." 
 
 The language was perfectly intelligible to Darcy, 
 but the mother spoke so ra^^idly that it was im- 
 possible to interpose a word in the daughter's behalf ; 
 and ere she ended, driving Zela before her through 
 the entrance leading to her private apartments, his 
 attention had been diverted so that he scarcely heard 
 and did not heed the last words. 
 
 " Pardon me, Eanee," he said, *' and do not scold 
 Zela till I return. Afzul has just opened the gate, 
 and he would hardly come here without some urgent 
 message for me." 
 
 He crossed the threshold as he spoke, and met his 
 servant at the gate with a quickness that argued the 
 expectation of tidings anxiously or eagerly awaited.
 
 42 EIIEANT. 
 
 But the calm, unconscious expression of the Arab's 
 countenance dispelled the alarm, if it were alarm, that 
 his unexpected appearance had excited. 
 
 ^' Clay sahib sent me to find you, sahib," he said^ 
 " The strange ladies came just now to your bungalow 
 and asked for you. The Cornet sahib saw them and 
 they spoke of the tiger- skin. They had heard of the 
 skull, and the elder 3'Oung lady asked to see it. The 
 Cornet said he was sure you would be glad to give it 
 her, as you had not promised that. But she would 
 not take it from him, and at last he put it in her 
 palkee, and told me to find you and tell you they 
 would wait a few minutes at the meeting of the road& 
 to say good-bye to you." 
 
 *' I am glad they are going," said Darcy, hastily, 
 quickening his steps in the direction indicated. When 
 he reached the rendezvous, the litter in which the twO' 
 girls were conveyed by four strong Native bearers, 
 four others following to relieve them in turn, had 
 paused under the shade of a grove. Their father, 
 and the Brigadier who had accompanied them thus 
 far on the way, had reined up their horses a little 
 further on. The curtains on the shady side of the 
 litter were drawn apart ; and as Darcy came up, he 
 saw that Eva, on the further side, was playing with 
 the skull on her lap, while Florence, leaning on one 
 elbow, frankly held out her other hand to him. 
 
 ''I am very sorry to say good-bye so suddenly and sa 
 shortly, Mr. Darcy. Your companion assured me you 
 could spare me the skull, though you could not give 
 us the skin, of the brute that but for you would have 
 made us so miserable to-dav ; but I could not take it
 
 ON THE VERGE. 4^^ 
 
 t> 
 
 excej)t from yourself. It is too bad to deprive you of 
 the last trophy of an exploit which seeras to be the 
 talk and the admiration of all the cantonment ; 
 but . . ." 
 
 "Trophies," replied Darcy, smiling, "in the old 
 days were valued only that they might be laid at a 
 lady's feet. I should have entreated you to accept 
 the skull had I dreamed you would care to possess it ; 
 and, once more, forgive me that I could not offer you 
 the skin." 
 
 " Kemember, then," answered Florence, "that I 
 keep and treasure the skull as a token of kindness 
 from you and a memorial of what we owe you. Write 
 to me sometimes, while you remember our visit, and 
 let us feel that you have not forgotten those who can 
 never forget you." 
 
 " May I ? " said Darcy, earnestly; " and may I hope 
 that you will answer ? And, in return for the skull, 
 since you value it enough to ask for it, may I ask 
 something from you in memory of the pleasantest 
 days in my Indian life ? " 
 
 " What can I give ? " inquired the girl, simply. " I 
 wish you had asked on Friday, before we had i^acked 
 everything." 
 
 Still holding her small hand, asking permission by a 
 look that met no sign of refusal and by a graceful and 
 courtly inclination, Darcy unfastened and drew off 
 the young girl's white glove. Eva laughed out frankly,, 
 but there were pleasure and pride rather than amuse- 
 ment in her sister's face as, colouring slightly, she 
 pressed for the last time the fingers that held her gift.. 
 Her father now rode up.
 
 44 ERRANT. 
 
 "We have no time to lose, Florence, and 3'Our 
 bearers must go on. Mr. Darcy, correspondence is 
 i\> poor way of keeping friendship alive ; but in default 
 of better, let us hear from you from time to time and 
 know how the world goes with you ; and whenever 
 you visit the States, remember your promise that we 
 shall see you again." 
 
 The young officer stood still for some minutes, 
 following the departing litter with somewhat wistful 
 eyes. When a turn of the road hid it from his sight, 
 he turned and walked slowly back to the half-ruinous 
 bungalow he had just left. The Eanee was alone in 
 the sitting-room, and greeted him with a certain 
 -embarrassment of manner. 
 
 " Forgive that foolish child, Darcy sahib," was her 
 first word. " You know she is passionate and petu- 
 lant; and your indulgence has spoilt her, as her 
 father used to say." 
 
 ''Indeed, Eanee, Zela is nowise in fault. It Avas 
 I who had vexed her by suggesting that it might be 
 time to discontinue the lessons that have been a 
 l^leasure, I hope, to both of us." 
 
 The Indian did not seem to understand. 
 
 "If you are tired of them," she said, "and it is 
 no wonder, let me thank you for all the trouble you 
 have taken with the child ; but indeed I think she 
 will break her heart to lose them. But I had some- 
 thing more to say, though I am half afraid to say it. 
 You will swear to me that you will repeat it to no 
 one, for I should not dare to say it to any but you." 
 
 " I will repeat no word of yours, Eanee, without 
 your permission. But don't tell me what perhaps
 
 ON THE VEKGE. 45 
 
 ought to be known to others, if I must keep it to 
 myself." 
 
 "You must be silent. It might cost my life, but 
 it may save yours. Lieutenant sahib, many of our 
 people remember my father's house, though, except 
 yourself, all yours have forgotten the name of those 
 they ruined. I hear what you would never hear, what 
 no Englishman would be allowed to know. What is 
 going on among your soldiers you may find out for 
 yourself. But not only among your soldiers, but 
 among all the people of this country — all of them 
 warriors till you conquered us, most of them attached 
 to princes and nobles whom you have ruined, or 
 whom, if you have left them their estates, you have 
 condemned to loiter indoors, to play with their women, 
 or watch the dancing girls, or at best to find employ- 
 ment in making war only on beasts and birds — the 
 Company's raj is hated, and hated in the belief that 
 it will fall this year. Sahib, the mine has been 
 charged long ago ; but now the train is ready, and 
 the match may be lit to-morrow. Then, the whole 
 country will be up ; and your squadron will be alone, 
 like a single house in a flood that sweeps suddenl}' 
 by night over a whole plain, without friend or help 
 within two hundred miles." 
 
 " I need not repeat a word of this, Eanee. There 
 is nothing in what 3^ou tell me that half of our people 
 have not known for many weeks past ; and those who 
 will not know it have been told it often and in vain. 
 You can help me only if you can tell me when and by 
 whom the match will be lighted." 
 
 The woman looked carefully around her as he ended,
 
 46 ERKANT. 
 
 and then, drawing close to him, spoke in a nervous 
 hurried whisper in English, her previous sentences 
 having been uttered in her own tongue. 
 
 " Among all your Native troops here only some fifty 
 Sikhs might be trusted, if they loved their leader. 
 But if the regiment rise, or if it is treated as others 
 have been, they will be swept away with the stream. 
 When ? I cannot tell ; but to-day or to-morrow — ^I 
 mean, very soon. There is a Court-Martial at Meerut 
 we hear of even here, and they say the Mussulman 
 troopers will not let their comrades be j)unished for a 
 fault common to all." 
 
 '^ If that be the signal," said Darcy, '' it will be 
 to-day or to-morrow. I thank you, Eanee, and I say 
 what may be good-bye. Say it for me to Zela." 
 
 " No, wait and say it yourself. I could not keep 
 her quiet if you went without seeing her, and she 
 thought you would not return soon." 
 
 She turned, and hastily vanished behind the curtain 
 that parted the inner from the outer rooms of her 
 small and, to European eyes, wretched dwelling. As 
 Darcy moved towards the outer door, his mind full of 
 the warning just given, a sudden touch on his arm 
 arrested his departure and turned his eyes on Zela, 
 whose light footfall he had not heard. Her e^^es were 
 swollen and tearful, her face flushed, her breast 
 heaving with sobs ; and it was with some difficulty 
 that she found her voice. 
 
 " I have not been so ungrateful as I seemed for the 
 kindness I knew, sahib," she faltered. 
 
 He interrupted her, laying his hand gently on her 
 long black tresses.
 
 ox THE VERGE. 47 
 
 *' You forget, Zela ! I had trouble enough to un- 
 teach you that word." 
 
 He spoke Hghtly, but Zela's passionate earnestness 
 was not to be so diverted. 
 
 "I have been grateful, if I have not seemed so, 
 for all your patience and care in teaching me," she 
 said; '' in trying to make me, a poor half-caste, what 
 you call a lady. But you must have thought me un- 
 grateful indeed, if you supposed, I knew all I owed to 
 you. It is only in these few minutes I have learned, 
 what I never dreamed before, that my father left us 
 penniless, and that we have owed even our bread and 
 our home to your charity." 
 
 " I never meant you should know, Zela. You 
 <30uld not understand what claims the widow and child 
 of an English soldier have upon a comrade — how 
 much a gentleman must feel for the descendants of a 
 ruined gentleman. Help given to women in right of 
 such claims is not charity, nor can you understand 
 how little it cost me." 
 
 There was, however, in the girl's countenance an 
 expression of humiliation that rendered the gratitude 
 with which it mingled intensely painful to a nature 
 like Darcy's. So to explain matters as to relieve this 
 feeling was for the moment his sole thought, and the 
 task was no easy one. 
 
 *' You would understand easily, Zela, that a brother 
 or kinsman would care, could not help caring, for an 
 unprovided widow and orphan ; and, long since, I have 
 learnt to feel for you and for your mother as keenly 
 and warmly as a brother would do. And again, I 
 hope that the Governor-General will be induced to
 
 48 ERRANT. 
 
 reconsider your grandfather's case, and redress the 
 wrong that was done him. Then your mother can 
 and will of course, repay me ; and in the mean time 
 what I have lent is of little account." 
 
 " It is generous, it is kind in you to say so. It is 
 like you as you have always heen to me," murmured 
 Zela. "But, child as I am, I know better. I under- 
 stand the excuse you make to yourself and to us. 
 Only, Mr. Darcy, if you are not brother or kinsman, I 
 love you as well as any sister — yes, even your English 
 sister — could love ; and, while it pains me to know 
 how much we owe to one on whom we have no claim, 
 I am glad to learn how much reason and right I have 
 to love you." 
 
 Her last words were spoken almost in a whisper ; 
 and, deeply moved, the young soldier stooped and 
 kissed the tears from her upturned eyes. Then, with 
 no such word of farewell as he had intended, but with 
 a long and earnest pressure of her hand, he left the 
 house. Zela's eyes followed his form till, at some 
 little distance down the road, she saw him mount the 
 horse held by his servant, and ride towards the can- 
 tonment.
 
 ( 49 ) 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 FIRE. 
 
 " Is yon red glare tlie Western Star ? 
 Oh, 'tis the beacon-blaze of War ! " 
 
 About noon on the next day, Clay and Evans sat or 
 lounged, smoking the huge cheroots in especial favour 
 with Anglo-Indians, in the verandah of the cottage 
 occupied in common by the former and Darcy. 
 
 "Well," said the journalist, "I am afraid I shall 
 have to start without seeing your chum, and I am 
 sorry for it. If the road were less perilous than I 
 think it is at present, I should not of course start in 
 the heat of the day. But I have no time to lose. An 
 old friend of my father's has offered me what I have 
 long coveted, the editorship of a London daily ; and 
 though as yet neither the position of the paper nor 
 the salary is much worth having, I rely on my power 
 to improve both. Tell Darcy, if I don't see him, to 
 send me anything and everything he cares to write 
 about the course of things here, and to write in the 
 simple straightforward style of the papers I published 
 in the Mofussil Newsman. He is about the only 
 youngster I ever knew who writes much as he speaks, 
 without fine phrases or long Latin words. What 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 50 EREANT. 
 
 induced him to take up a profession that don't pay, 
 and into which very few men of his cultivation and 
 hterary taste care to enter ? Certainly he has the 
 making of a good journalist, and is thrown away in 
 the Army." 
 
 '' Pretty complimentary to the service ! " retorted 
 the youth. " Then it needs intellect to write history, 
 but fools will do to make it ? " 
 
 " The Army has as much need of brains as any 
 profession you can name. But the Queen's service 
 don't reward or use them, and therefore don't often 
 get them ; and when the Company finds an officer 
 with more than are needed to give the word of com- 
 mand correctly in Hindoostanee, it takes him from his 
 regiment and sends him to a petty Native Court, or 
 to do joint-magistrate's duty at some fourth-rate 
 station, in the Non-Kegulation Provinces." 
 
 "Hallo!" said Clay, "there is Darcy, and," as 
 his friend came nearer, " something has put him out, 
 and it takes a little to do that. Oh yes ; his face is 
 quiet enough, but look at the cane he switches ! When 
 he does that, he would dearly like to lay it over some- 
 body's back. Evans, I'll bet five rupees that he would 
 give five hundred just now for the pleasure of making 
 it acquainted with Thomson's shoulders." 
 
 " If Darcy don't take care, and if his friends are 
 not wiser than you, that man will be his ruin. He 
 keeps his temper well enough under most provoca- 
 tions ; but if Thoms'on finds out his weakness he will 
 drive him easily into some unpardonable offence 
 against military rule and discipline. Your friend has 
 all the passion and the principles of his ancestors,
 
 FIRE. 51 
 
 though he may not have, or may not show yet, their 
 love of peril and adventure for its own sake. If he 
 received an affront that touched him on the point of 
 honour, he would resent it on the parade ground at 
 the cost of his commission and his career." 
 
 The person of whom they spoke now joined them, 
 suppressing as he became conscious of it that sharp 
 angry movement of his switch which the experience of 
 eighteen months had taught his chum to regard as 
 the only sure sign of bitter irritation or hardly re- 
 pressed temper. He had greeted Evans and sat 
 without speaking for some minutes, when the latter 
 repeated the request he had entrusted to Clay. 
 
 " There will be enough to write about," returned 
 Darcy, " if there are English pens to write it, befor^ a 
 week is out. I shall be glad to hear, if I have ears to 
 hear it or eyes to read by that time, that you have 
 reached Calcutta safely. And I would give both to 
 know that Dupont and his daughters were there un- 
 hurt." 
 
 " Where have you been, Darcy ? " said his comrade, 
 after a pause. 
 
 "With the Brigadier," was the reply. "He de- 
 sired me to call on him, half formally, half as if 
 asking me to tiffin." 
 
 " He might have put it off till the cool of the even- 
 ing," said Clay, loosening the light cotton jacket he 
 wore, and visibly perspiring even in the shade, despite 
 the luxurious lightness of his attire. " To wear uni- 
 form for a couple of hours in this sun is a worse 
 punishment than a week's arrest in England ; and 
 something or other has made you tolerably hot. The 
 
 UNIVERSITY (M5 
 
 At I l«m._
 
 52 ERRANT. 
 
 old fellow is good-natured enough, and you are not 
 given to scrapes; what has ^ riled you,' as Dupont 
 would say ? " 
 
 " What always riles a soldier and a gentleman," 
 replied Darcy, something in the studiously measured 
 utterance belying the usual quiet tone; *^lies, and 
 lies touching others as well as myself." 
 
 " I can guess who has been backbiting you, then. 
 I offered to bet Evans that you would give five hundred 
 rupees to thrash the fellow." 
 
 '^ If we both live," said Darcy, "I expect I shall 
 try one of these days." 
 
 *'And it will cost you more," interposed Evans, 
 "than five hundred thousand. If you let that man 
 provoke you to any act or word of intemperate violence, 
 Darcy, you will not only ruin your own career, but 
 give him precisely the revenge he desires. If you 
 lose your temper with him you are only playing his 
 game ; and he would not grudge a few horsewhip cuts 
 to know that he had ruined the future of one of the 
 most promising subalterns in the Queen's service." 
 
 (' Very likely," said Darcy. *' I shan't meddle with 
 him if I can help it. But there are some things a man 
 must not bear. The General spoke very guardedly 
 and courteously : I might say like a father, if slang 
 had not made the phrase ambiguous. He said that 
 he had been warned that the Eanee was a dangerous 
 person, false to the English rule, and at least as mis- 
 chievous as an Indian woman can be. I told him 
 that whoever gave him that warning had sinister 
 motives for it; that, though I spoke in French, I 
 dared only tell him that she had risked life to-
 
 FIRE. 53 
 
 tell me — what we know, but what he affects still to 
 disbelieve. Then he said that whether I were right 
 or not, the days were gone by when English officers 
 could follow Indian usages, and that a Native mistress 
 was a fatal obstacle to a young man's career, unless 
 the matter were kept as dark as in England. My 
 blood boiled as I asked him who had put such a 
 slander into his mind. Of course he would not tell 
 me ; and I said that the author of the insinuation 
 was a liar and a scoundrel, and that I had treated 
 the Eanee and her daughter as I would treat an elder 
 sister and niece of my own. Now, Evans, I might 
 and would shut my eyes and ears to anything that 
 only touched myself ; but I cannot pass over calumnies 
 against a helpless, friendless girl, when I know fhe 
 liar's name and all the station knows that I know it, 
 without dishonouring myself." 
 
 " You are not bound," replied his friend, "and you 
 have scarcely a right, to take up her quarrel ; and, 
 moreover, you will do her more harm than good by 
 making her the subject of a public scene and perhaps 
 a military scandal." 
 
 " I may not have the right to be her champion," 
 rejoined the soldier, " though, as her mother's only 
 friend in the station, I think no one would seriously 
 deny it to me. But the charge against me is one of 
 deliberate dishonour. The girl, I take it, is a mere 
 child. At any rate, I always supposed her so. But 
 certainly she is such a child that to take advantage 
 of her mother's confidence and my own influence with 
 her would be a villany almost as vile as the seduction 
 of a relative under one's own roof ; and he who im-
 
 54 ERRANT. 
 
 putes such a thing falsely is as great a scoundrel as 
 he who would do it. But don't be afraid. I hope to 
 brand the offender as a liar before the whole station, 
 without doing anything of which a Court-Martial 
 could take cognizance." 
 
 *' Eemember," repeated his elder friend, ^^ that if 
 you say or do anything that can be used against you, 
 you are simply playing into your enemy's hand, and 
 probably injuring your friends almost as much as 
 yourself." 
 
 Darcy made no reply, and, though very uneasy as 
 to the probable consequences of his impetuosity, his 
 Mentor was forced to let the subject drop. Indeed, he 
 had time for very few more words before his Native 
 servant came to warn him that the hour fixed for his 
 departure had arrived. 
 
 Late that evening, the German Count von Arnheim 
 occupied the journalist's place with the two friends in 
 their verandah ; the outer mats drawn down to keep 
 out the bats and other flying creatures attracted by 
 the lamp within. 
 
 "You are right, Darcy. You English, as a con- 
 quering race, have the same insolent contempt for 
 the feelings of the conquered that every Power save 
 Kome has shown, and that has in the end been fatal 
 to the ascendency of most conquering races and of 
 more than one great aristocracy. Your people, espe- 
 cially youngsters, are ignorant enough to speak of 
 Aryans, men of our own race, men whose chiefs 
 have all the pride and sensitiveness of a European 
 nobility, as ' niggers ' ; and their folly is equal to then* 
 ignorance. A month ago, I was the guest of the
 
 FIRE. 55 
 
 Eajali of Kulwar, one of the proudest, the noblest, 
 and the most influential chiefs of the North-West ; 
 a man of pure Kajpoot family, that is to say of 
 unmixed Aryan blood and of nearer kindred to us 
 than Jews, Hungarians, or Kussians. He was at 
 first somewhat reserved with me ; and at last, as we 
 became better friends, expressed, almost in so many 
 words, his surprise and satisfaction that a European, 
 even as his guest, treated him as a gentleman and 
 an equal. He understands English as well as I, if 
 he do not care to speak it ; and he told me with 
 bitter resentment how on one occasion, in this very 
 station, when a guest of its commanding officer, he 
 had heard repeated inquiries why that ' nigger ' was 
 of* the party ; and that only one English of&cer 
 showed disgust and indignation at the affront, and 
 endeavoured to atone it by marked courtesy to him. 
 The gratitude and regard he expressed for that one 
 young officer showed how few of your comrades have 
 common sense or, forgive me if I say, common good- 
 breeding in such matters. These follies have made 
 an enemy of one who, if he used his whole influence 
 against you, could probably turn the scale hereabouts. 
 Kulwar is unique; a feudal fortress on a European 
 scale, such as is hardly to be found elsewhere in 
 India, and the Eajah's force, though small, is of 
 first-rate quality. Besides these, he could arm some 
 thousands of irregular warriors ; while, had you 
 made him your friend, he could have kept quiet under 
 almost any excitement a country as large as Hanover, 
 for half the Native Princes would probably follow his 
 lead."
 
 56 EEKANT. 
 
 "A very dangerous enemy," Darcy replied, "but 
 I am afraid in no case a very powerful friend. I 
 believe that if by possibility he should declare in our 
 favour, three-fourths at least of his own people would 
 desert him; nay, I doubt whether he could depend 
 on any but his own haba-logue, his children, the re- 
 tainers of his own household. I wish rather than 
 hope that Kavanagh, who is an able and reputed 
 a courageous man, may keep that country quiet. If 
 not — excuse me for one minute." 
 
 He had caught sight of his Native servant, who 
 had passed through the verandah into the sitting- 
 room, with a slight sign to him unobserved by the 
 others. 
 
 " What is it, Afzul ? " asked Darcy in a quick low 
 tone. 
 
 **The Third have risen, sahib, and released the 
 prisoners sent to gaol by the Court-Martial. All the 
 Native troops at Meerut are up ; the sahibs have been 
 cut to pieces, and the whole force, after burning the 
 station, is on its way, they say, to Delhi." 
 
 "If that is true — if they have the sense to make 
 for that centre, to proclaim the old Imperial house, 
 and if they get there — we have our work cut out for 
 us. Is this certain, Afzul?" 
 
 " The story is all through the lines, sahib ; though 
 if I had not told you the officers would not know it 
 till to-morrow at earliest. I have told you how often 
 and how surely Native news is transmitted when your 
 telegraphs are cut and your couriers fail you." 
 
 "Do you know what the Sepoys here intend?" 
 
 "No, sahib; and they don't know themselves.
 
 FIRE. 57 
 
 But, except the Sikhs, who are only about fifty, they 
 are all ripe for mutiny ; and when they mutiny they 
 will not leave a European alive in the station if 
 they can help it." 
 
 " See my horse saddled, then, at once, and bring 
 him round." 
 
 Ee-entering the verandah, Darcy communicated in 
 even fewer words than Afzul had used the substance 
 of the report. 
 
 "Don't talk of it at present," he said; "I must 
 carry the news at once to the Brigadier, though I 
 know I shall only get snubbed for my pains." 
 
 An hour had passed, and most of the lights in the 
 European dwellings were extinguished, when he re- 
 turned. • 
 
 "Halbert thinks more of it than he will own. I 
 have also told Vane ; but I don't see that we can do 
 anything. In the present temper of the authorities, 
 we shall wait of course till the Sepoys actually rise, 
 and they will choose their own time to cut our throats 
 with most certainty and surest impunity." 
 
 "I don't know that," said Vane, who now entered 
 the verandah. " There has been a want of sense and 
 concert in the conduct of those regiments in which 
 partial outbreaks have already taken place that does 
 not look like preparation or prearrangement ; and it 
 seems that even the Third mutinied on a special 
 provocation, and were followed by the rest of the 
 troops at Meerut, if your story be correct." 
 
 " True," replied Darcy. "All I have heard leads 
 me to believe that there is quite as much of panic 
 as of treason in the Army. Well, if they know their
 
 58 ERKANT. 
 
 own intentions, if this is a conspiracy extending to all 
 the disaffected regiments in Bengal and the North- 
 West, there will hardly be a European left alive this 
 day month. If not, if it be a fire spreading by chance 
 to combustible material, and our chiefs will but be 
 on their guard and recognize notorious facts, surely 
 we may hold our own till reinforcements bring us 
 strength for reconquest ? " 
 
 "If we can depend only on our Europeans," said 
 Vane, "the thing looks as black as it well can. 
 Countries half as large as France are guarded only by 
 seven or eight hundred English soldiers. God heli> 
 our women ! " 
 
 The men sat in grave silence for the next quarter 
 of an hour, when the German, familiar by long and 
 varied experience with every form of danger, rose, and 
 approaching one of the blinds, raised it and looked 
 out. His practised eye had caught a peculiar effect 
 of the light, as if the illumination from the lam2> 
 within were counteracted by a stronger illumination 
 from without. 
 
 "Darcy, there is a fire, and a large one! Where 
 is it?" 
 
 They all sprang to their feet and hastened to join 
 the Count. 
 
 " In the Native lines," said Darcy, quietly. " No, 
 it is not a large one ; it is the burning of two or three 
 huts at most. They have blazed up fiercely, from 
 their light dry material, and even now the fire is 
 subsiding. If it do not spread, it will be a sign, I 
 suppose, of excitement and disaffection rather than a 
 signal for actual rising ? "
 
 FIRE. 5D 
 
 " Probably," answered Vane. " There have been 
 fires of that kind in every station of late. Well, I 
 shall go down and turn out the guard, and see that 
 our men are not butchered in their sleep if there 
 should be a rising. Von Arnheim, will you go with 
 me ? " 
 
 " Thank you, no," said the German. "I will stay 
 here for the night, if you will permit me. I suppose 
 we shall hear your trumpet if there is an alarm, and 
 in that case I will join you, if we are not intercepted. 
 If Mr. Darcy can lend me a sword — I have used one 
 to some purpose before now." 
 
 But for the urgency of the experienced German 
 traveller and soldier, none of the trio would have 
 slej)t that night. His cool practical sense insisted 
 that, to be fresh for possible danger and probable 
 active work in the morning, they should watch and 
 sleep by turns. No further incident occurred, how- 
 ever, during the night ; and early on the following 
 day came assured tidings of the outbreak at Meerut. 
 
 *'It is inexplicable," said Vane to the party 
 assembled in the mess-room after the midday meal. 
 " There is at Meerut a whole cavalry regiment of the 
 Queen's and a troop of Horse Artillery, and yet the 
 mutineers seem to have had their own way from 
 the first within the station, and after burning it have 
 gone off towards Delhi — it would actually seem un- 
 pursued; but that is impossible." 
 
 It proved, however, too true. The news that 
 poured in day after day at Sivapore is now matter 
 of history which it is needless to repeat. Station 
 after station was in flames, regiment after regiment
 
 60 EREANT. 
 
 mutinied against officers who could do nothing but 
 wait and watch ; afraid to take precautions, even for 
 the safety of their women and children, lest they 
 should precipitate a peril which many of them would 
 not believe, till taught by fatal experience, could 
 menace the fidelity of their own men. 
 
 Fires at Sivapore were of nightly occurrence, chiefly 
 in the Native lines ; but one or two European dwellings 
 had been burnt — without loss of life, however, as 
 all were on the alert against such incidents. The 
 officers of the Lancers, with Vane, were assembled 
 in his verandah one evening, when the flames shot 
 up in a new and unexpected direction. 
 
 " Thomson's bungalow, by God ! " cried Vane, 
 springing to his feet. 
 
 "Naturally," said another, "I only wonder this 
 has not happened before. Few Sepoy officers are so 
 hated by their men." 
 
 "Clay," said Vane, "run over to Captain Everett, 
 and ask him from me whether he will attempt to turn 
 out the Sikhs and the Sikhs alone. If he can do so, 
 we may, by showing such special confidence in them, 
 detach them from the rest and be able to trust them 
 hereafter. If he cannot, do not let him bring any 
 Native soldiers. We can manage the fire ourselves." 
 
 The party hurried down to the scene of conflagra- 
 tion. The whole building was now in flames, and on 
 this occasion the danger to life was great. The 
 Major's family were with him, and his children slept 
 in inner rooms, access to which was cut ofl* by the 
 fire. Most of the officers present, wearing not their 
 uniform but light cool costumes suited to the climate,
 
 FIRE. 61 
 
 were ill fitted to encounter flames which would at 
 once have caught and consumed their clothes. More 
 than one had been severely burnt, when Darcy, who 
 had been on duty till late and was still in uniform, 
 learnt from the terrified Native servants that two little 
 girls were still in the blazing bungalow. Perfectly 
 cool amid the panic and confusion, he had exercised 
 over the dismayed and confounded servants a control 
 which the eager excitement of his comrades and their 
 ignorance of the language rendered impossible to 
 them ; and had obtained in a few words such local 
 directions as showed him the nearest way to the room 
 in which, if still alive, the little victims would be 
 found. Looking around, he observed among the 
 numberless articles that had been hastily dragged 
 from the nearer rooms a large blanket, and wrapping 
 this around his head he plunged daringly amid the 
 soaring flames; choosing, however, the windward 
 side of the building, where the heat had fanned into a 
 breeze of some force the light moving air of the 
 evening. There was no staircase to fall, no doors of 
 European strength and with European locks to be 
 forced open. But the light materials of the building, 
 though much more solid than those of the Native 
 huts, fed the conflagration with fatal rapidity; and 
 almost the whole dwelling was a mass of fire. 
 Fortunately, for the same reason, there was com- 
 paratively little smoke ; the rescuers instinctively 
 directing the little water they could command on that 
 part of the building where the flames were hottest 
 and where of necessity it produced least effect. The 
 children were of course awake as, his hair alight, his
 
 62 EKEANT. 
 
 face and hands i badly scorched already, the young 
 soldier reached their room. Too terrified and too 
 exhausted to scream longer, they crouched in the 
 centre of the floor, and had by instinct covered them- 
 selves as they clung together with the one article 
 that could best protect them, though but for a few 
 moments, — a soft feather-bed which their mother's 
 English fancies had placed beneath the cooler mattress 
 of straw already consumed. To carry them safely in 
 their thin cotton night-dresses through the flames would 
 have been impossible ; but, lifting one on either arm, 
 Darcy, in a cool, matter-of-fact tone, which for the 
 moment overcame her terror, directed the elder to 
 wrap around both the blanket he had brought, and 
 which of course, thus encumbered, he could not him- 
 self arrange. The peril of the little girls had now 
 become known to all outside, and their mother, half 
 mad with distress and terror, was hardly restrained 
 from an attempt which only could have been fatal to 
 her without the slightest possibility that she could 
 have reached, much less rescued, her children. 
 More than one officer had made a desjperate attempt 
 to enter the blazing building, not half a minute after 
 Darcy had unobserved plunged therein; but not 
 exercising the same cool judgment, and attempting 
 to force an entrance at the nearest point, they had 
 been beaten back by the flames, all badly scorched, 
 one with his clothes burnt off and so injured as to be 
 all but insensible. To force an exit, even by the way 
 he had entered, with such a burden as Darcy's was 
 beyond his power. Before he had traversed half the 
 short distance that parted the children's nursery from
 
 riKE. 63 
 
 the open air, the roof fell in around him, and, beaten 
 down on his knee, he gave up hope of life for himself 
 and his charge. Still struggling to the last, however, 
 he had staggered up and was instinctively seeking 
 the least impracticable course, when both the girls 
 were hastily snatched from his embrace, and he 
 himself, now blind and fainting, was grasped by two 
 pair of strong Native arms and hurried over the 
 burning embers. Laid down 'outside at some little 
 distance from the flames, and the crowd that still 
 gathered round them, he revived as he felt the fresh 
 evening air. Unable to see, he yet recognized the 
 voice of Afzul, who held his head on his knee and 
 was persuading him to open his mouth for the draught 
 of brandy which the strictly abstinent Mahometan 
 had with unusual good sense snatched up when, 
 guessing that his master would be among the first in 
 the scene of peril, he had induced half a dozen Native 
 associates to follow and assist him ; easily enlisting 
 their aid for one, among the younger officers at least, 
 the most liked or least hated by the Native soldiery 
 and populace. 
 
 The regimental surgeon had departed after dressing 
 Darcy's injuries the next morning, and he was left 
 alone with the companion of his bungalow, when the 
 latter inquired — 
 
 ''What took you into the fire at that last moment, 
 Darcy?" 
 
 *'Is every one safe?" the invalid answered in a 
 faint voice. 
 
 *'Yes," replied Clay. "The little girls, they say, 
 were in the building when the roof fell; but half a
 
 64 EKEANT. 
 
 dozen Natives, of whom Afzul seems to have been one, 
 rushed in and dragged them out. How they came 
 out alive and unburnt in their light night-dresses one 
 can hardly guess. Except that the youngest looks a 
 comical object with her fair curls burnt off, they are 
 not injured." 
 
 As he spoke, Afzul had entered the room, bringing 
 lemonade to quench the burning thirst inseparable 
 from the fever attendant on such injuries as his 
 master's in such a climate. 
 
 "No, Cornet sahib," he said. "I should have 
 grudged giving my life for the Major sahib's sake, or 
 any that belonged to him." 
 
 "Shame on you, Afzul!" interposed his master. 
 " No soldier like you — no son of the Koreish, the best 
 blood in Arabia — whatever his injuries, could have 
 wished to see them revenged on harmless children." 
 
 " The sons of Ishmael have visited the sins of the 
 fathers upon the children ever since our father was 
 driven from the tent of El-Khalil," replied the Native, 
 a dark vindictive look clouding his really noble 
 features. "It was to bring you out, sahib, not the 
 children, that I went in, and it was for you only that 
 my brethren would have followed me. As if you had 
 not good cause to hate the man for whose house you 
 would have given your life if we had been a moment 
 later ! It was from the Lieutenant sahib's arms we 
 took the children. Cornet. It was he who had wrapped 
 the blanket round them that saved them from the 
 fire, when no other man was cool enough to think 
 even of the best way in or out of the flames." 
 
 "A damned queer thing, then," said Clay, indig-
 
 FIRE. 65 
 
 nantly, " that Thomson has not been here yet to 
 thank you or inquire." 
 
 " I trust," replied Darcy, "that he knows nothing 
 of the matter. And, Afzul, be silent for the future 
 upon the whole story. And you. Clay, you will not 
 tell what I never meant you to have heard ? " 
 
 "Are you in earnest?" asked his comrade, some- 
 what surprised. 
 
 " Certainly. And, upon your honour, you will tell 
 nothing ? " 
 
 " Not without your leave, of course," the youth 
 answered, grudgingly. " But I should like the Major 
 to know what he owes to the man he has spited and 
 slandered ever since you came to the station." 
 
 *' And I should not," returned Darcy. " I owe Ijim 
 a debt I mean to pay, and I have no wish that it 
 should be cancelled by a chance like this." 
 
 Native tongues, however, are not easily silenced. 
 Long before morning the whole story was known 
 throughout the Native lines, and ere nightfall every 
 family in the station, except that which it most con- 
 cerned, had heard it, though as an ill-authenticated 
 rumour. Clay, bound by his promise to his comrade, 
 was harassed with a hundred inquiries which could 
 only be parried by a deliberate fiction — a total denial 
 of all knowledge of the matter. To the children he 
 had rescued Darcy's face was not familiar; and in 
 the horror and confusion of the moment they might 
 not have recognized it had it been a brother's. To the 
 very few comrades against whose visits the excuse of 
 exhaustion and need of quiet was not a sufficient bar, 
 Darcy himself pleaded his illness and inability to bear 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 66 ERRANT. 
 
 conversation on the subject. This, and yet more his 
 friend's profession of ignorance, served with the 
 greater part of the European society of the station as 
 a disproof of a story which many were unwilling to 
 believe. Several ladies especially were bitterly preju- 
 diced against one who had presumed by act and im- 
 plication, if not in direct words, to put a Native lady 
 on an equality with themselves, and to manifest more 
 interest in a half-caste child than in their own daugh- 
 ters. In one house, however, there was no shadow of 
 doubt upon the matter. The Eanee had heard an 
 exaggerated account of Darcy's injuries, and the true 
 story of their origin, before the sun rose on the ruins 
 of Major Thomson's bungalow; and all a mother's 
 authority, and all the stringent reserve of an Indian 
 home, were needed to restrain Zela's passionate 
 anxiety to see the hero of an adventure which im- 
 pressed her even more than that of the tiger, and to 
 learn with her own eyes the state of her one friend. 
 Darcy, however, had thought for her, and, unable to 
 use his right hand, had traced in pencil with the 
 bandaged fingers of the left a line or two which Mzul 
 delivered before noon that day. When, after a few days' 
 confinement, he pronounced himself able, despite the 
 surgeon's remonstrances, to enter a palanquin, he 
 caused the bearers to carry him in the dusk of evening 
 to the Eanee's dwelling. Both his friends received 
 him with a warm and eager welcome ; the Kanee with 
 more frankness, more outspoken kindliness, than 
 interest and regard alike had hitherto been able to 
 inspire in one who inherited the traditions of Indian 
 womanhood ; the daughter with unrestrained, undis-
 
 FIRE. 67 
 
 guised sympathy and affection. But the tears which 
 Zela did not affect to conceal when she saw the 
 maimed and bandaged right arm, the face disfigured 
 by scars and by the loss of eyebrows and lashes, and 
 the burnt hair and moustache — the caressing touch, 
 checked only by fear of hurting the invalid, and the 
 broken words of passionate feeling which accompanied 
 these — seemed to one singularly free from the meaner 
 forms of coxcombry rather the frank expression of 
 childlike fondness than indications of childhood's 
 gratitude ripening into the love of earliest woman- 
 hood.
 
 68 ERRANT. 
 
 CHAPTEK V. 
 
 EN ROUTE. • 
 
 " They ha' saddled a hundred milk-white steeds, 
 They ha' bridled a hundred black ; \zzz:'":^.J, 
 Wi' a chafron o' steel on each horse's head 
 And a gude knight on his back." 
 
 *' I WISH you had not reported yourself fit for service ; 
 and with your arm still in the sling you had no right 
 to do so, Darcy," said his commanding officer, a day 
 or two later. " But I understand your feeling, and 
 you are not far out. There may be hot and hard 
 work here at any moment. The Sepoys are not the 
 less dangerously disposed that they are comparatively 
 quiet. The budmashes, beggars, fakirs, and all the 
 bad characters about, grow more insolent in their 
 manner every day. And there may be a fresh cause 
 of danger. Kavanagh's wife and daughters are with 
 him, and the Brigadier growls at a hint he has 
 received to send a European escort to bring them 
 away." 
 
 "I don't wonder he growls," said Darcy. *' Of 
 course their departure will be a signal of alarm and 
 very likely of insurrection there, and the absence of 
 any considerable part of our small force is likely to 
 give the sign for an outbreak here." 
 
 ** Just so ; and yet to send only a small escort is to
 
 EN KOUTE. 6i> 
 
 combine the peril of doing and not doing. But the 
 Earl of Penrith is master just now, and Lady Helen 
 Kavanagh (I knew her at home, and she is certainly 
 'too good for such a breed') must, I suppose, be made 
 safe at any cost." 
 
 "Well, Colonel," observed Darcy, after a pause, *'l 
 don't quite see it in that light. Don't you think, with 
 a score of picked troopers, one might do in the way of 
 rescue and escort whatever a squadron could do ? If 
 the whole country rises upon us, surely a squadron 
 would be overpowered ; and if not, would not a score 
 be sufficient to protect the ladies against a mere gang 
 of robbers or a chance attack ? " 
 
 His commanding officer pondered for some time in 
 silence, with an anxious and thoughtful face. 
 
 *' You may be right, Darcy ; and at any rate I think 
 we ought rather to run the risk of failing in that 
 quarter than withdraw the greater part of our 
 European force here, with so strong a probability that 
 its departure would be the signal for mutiny and 
 wholesale massacre. If I were Kavanagh, I should 
 hardly think Lady Helen and her daughters safer here 
 than there. We have no tenable position, and the 
 Brigadier will not allow fortifications to be thrown up, 
 holding that they would provoke attack before they 
 could be of service. At any rate I'll talk to him about 
 it. You know the road ; would you like the duty ? I 
 can't well spare my only Captain." 
 
 ** Very much. Colonel, especially if you will let me 
 pick my men." 
 
 "From your own troop, I might; a score out of 
 sixty — and you are in favour with them."
 
 70 ERRANT. 
 
 Very shortly after the Colonel had departed, a 
 Native servant brought to Darcy a note, directed in 
 English, but within written in English indeed, but 
 with Hindoostanee characters ; a child's notion of 
 puzzling any intrusive reader. 
 
 ** My mother has made up her mind," wrote Zela, 
 *'to leave Sivapore to-night. She has enemies among 
 the sahibs, and she thinks that from the Mahometans 
 I, as the child of an English father, might not be safe. 
 I may not write where we go. Come if you can before 
 we leave." 
 
 " I never asked any one to take duty for me, often 
 as I have taken it for others. I would if Clay were 
 not out to-day ; but . . . the route might come at 
 any moment. No, I must write good-bye, and get 
 Afzul to find out where they go. They are just as 
 well away at present." 
 
 He had written a line of kind farewell to his pupil, 
 and had been occupied for some two hours over regi- 
 mental business, when another note was brought; 
 this time from Vane, a mere formal order to report at 
 the latter 's bungalow for duty an hour before sunset. 
 But in this note were appended three French words in 
 Greek characters : " Nommez voire vingtaine.'' Darcy 
 wrote down at once in the same form, but following 
 one another like the words of a letter, and not in 
 column as a regular list, the names of twenty men of 
 his own troop. Precaution was felt to be necessary at 
 this time in every written or spoken communication 
 which might fall under Native eyes or ears. 
 
 An hour before the time named, accompanied by 
 Clay, by the German, and two or three other military
 
 EN ROUTE. 71 
 
 friends, Darcy walked down deliberately to a point 
 upon the road where he might expect to meet the 
 commander of the Sepoy battalion with some of his 
 ofQcers returning from duty. He was not disappointed. 
 The men met, and entered into conversation frankly ; 
 only the Count suspecting for what purpose the 
 meeting had been contrived. After a few moments* 
 general talk, Darcy spoke in tones very quiet, mea- 
 sured, but clearly audible to all present. His eyes 
 were fixed upon Major Thomson, but he gave no 
 other indication that his words were addressed to any 
 in particular. 
 
 " Many of you," he said, *' were present when I 
 was accused of leading young ladies into * equivocal 
 company,' and by insinuation if not directly it was 
 implied that a friendship I greatly value was of a 
 character discreditable to both parties. The same 
 thing has since been hinted elsewhere. I take this 
 oj)portunity to answer what it has not been thought 
 prudent to say in my presence ; to affirm that in every 
 point the insinuation is unfounded, calumnious, and 
 unmanly, and that, should I meet its author where 
 neither of us is restrained by military duty, I will 
 repeat my assertion in clearer and stronger terms." 
 
 All eyes were turned upon the slanderer whom 
 Darcy had indicated but had not named. His face 
 flushed deep red with mingled rage and embarrass- 
 ment. To take up the gauntlet thrown was to render 
 himself responsible for an untenable charge which 
 even Colonel Vane had treated as imputing personal 
 if not military dishonour. To explain it away was 
 hardly possible, and yet every one present knew per-
 
 72 EKEANT. 
 
 fectly well from whose lips the words now denounced 
 as a falsehood had proceeded. At last, with difficulty 
 and in an unsteady voice, he answered — 
 
 '* Mr. Darcy seems ready to quarrel upon some- 
 what slight grounds, and yet too cautious to fix an 
 open quarrel upon anyone." 
 
 ^'When I meet the offender where no professional 
 duty qualifies my language, he will not complain of 
 its obscurity," Darcy retorted contemptuously. 
 
 "This is no time for boyish quarrels," said the 
 Major, with what struggled to be dignity and was 
 simply sulkiness. 
 
 Darcy turned on his heel and walked up slowly 
 with the German to the place where he was to 
 receive his expected orders. "! 
 
 "It is rumoured," said Von Arnheim, "that you 
 are to march this evening for Kulwar or its neighbour- 
 hood. If so, can you obtain for me leave to ac- 
 company you ? I could play my part in a skirmish ; 
 and from the terms on which I stand with the Eajah, 
 I might possibly be of service." 
 
 " Say that to Vane ; and if he permit I shall be 
 heartily glad of your company. I don't think one 
 place in this part of India is now more dangerous 
 than another. Of course you may get shot if you 
 accompany me ; but, staying here, you are almost as 
 likely to have your throat cut before I return. It is a 
 pity you did not leave with Dupont." 
 
 "I have no girls with me," replied the German, 
 " and there may be work here as well worth seeing 
 as what I have more than once travelled far to see in 
 Europe."
 
 EN KOUTE. 73 
 
 " Aye ; but here there will be no quarter to 
 prisoners, and no consideration for non-combatants." 
 
 " I shall not be a non-combatant," returned the 
 traveller, " if there be fighting worth sharing." 
 
 With a grave and somewhat anxious face the com- 
 manding officer of the Lancers met his subaltern in 
 the verandah. 
 
 "Your selection," he said, "is surely strange. 
 You have picked out, I think, nearly all the worst 
 characters in your troop, except , , and ." 
 
 " Bad characters of a different kind. Colonel. 
 Those three are drunkards ; and drunkards are good 
 for no soldierly duty. The men I have chosen may 
 be insubordinate in quarters from the very same 
 qualities which will make them heroes or desperadoes, 
 as you please, on dangerous service." 
 
 " I hope it may not prove dangerous," replied the 
 other. " In sending you on such a duty, the Brigadier 
 pays you the. highest compliment in his power. I 
 need not tell you how anxiously I shall look to see 
 you justify such a trust not only by courage but by 
 discretion and conduct. Your men are warned, and 
 you will find them ready to mount in the canton- 
 ment." 
 
 Darcy saluted without a word, and turned to mount 
 the charger held ready by Afzul. As soon as the 
 rapidly failing twilight of the tropics allowed them 
 to conceal their movements, the little party rode 
 quietly out, Darcy at their head. They had not gone 
 half a mile before the hoof-beats of a horse at full 
 gallop were heard in their rear, and the German 
 reined up at the young officer's side. His travelling
 
 74 ERKANT. 
 
 jacket was buttoned up in the fashion of a soldier's 
 tunic ; in a leathern belt he carried a large Colt's- 
 revolver, and in a leathern scabbard a sword more 
 resembling an Indian tulwar than the blunt heavy 
 sabre of the British trooper. 
 
 '^ You English are not worse than others," he said, 
 " but steel scabbards show how much more tradition 
 has to do with military equipments than common 
 sense. A sword should cut ; and swords carried in 
 steel scabbards are sure to be blunted. Cuirass and 
 helmet have their use in cavalry encounters ; but 
 why, in the name of common sense, should heavy 
 cavalry have them bright, to reflect the sunlight 
 and betray the wearers from behind cover or at 
 almost any distance to a quick, well-trained recon- 
 noitrer ? And your own lances, with pennons and 
 bright steel points ; can anything be more absurd ? " 
 
 '^ We march by moonlight as much as possible," 
 Darcy replied. *^ By day — thank you. for the hint 
 — I will have the ]Dennons furled." 
 
 "You march as light, I suppose, as you can. But 
 Native horsemen, worse mounted, would keep their 
 distance as they pleased, and harass an army of 
 which these are the ' light ' cavalry to destruction, 
 without ever coming to close quarters. Well for you 
 that India has not produced a great Native com- 
 mander, and that the Sikhs were not led by those 
 who drilled them." 
 
 "Your arm pains you badly," he observed, some 
 time afterwards; "you will be well-nigh helpless in 
 a skirmish. Those children have cost you dear." 
 
 " What children ? " asked Darcy, with unwilling 
 equivocation.
 
 EN KOUTE. 75 
 
 ** Nay," returned the German, '' I understand your 
 wish to keep the secret ; but don't affect denial to me. 
 Thomson won't accej^t the truth unless it is forced 
 on him. A pity your chivalry could not have been 
 exercised in favour of some one old enough to reward 
 it ! " 
 
 "I don't agree with you, Count," said Darcy, 
 pleased with this lighter turn of the conversation. 
 " I am always fond of children, and felt at least as 
 well pleased when the little ones clung so trustfully 
 to me as I should have done if their age had been 
 trebled, and something less perfectly pure and simple 
 had mingled in their confidence." 
 
 "If the story were truly told," observed the Count, 
 " I venture to prophesy for you a brilliant career^as 
 soldier. Plenty of boys would have dared the same : 
 boys are often more fearless than men for mere 
 lack of experience. But comparatively few soldiers 
 fail for sheer want of courage. Coolness in 'danger 
 is the rare quality that makes a leader of men: 
 and no other man I know under twenty-five would 
 have remembered at the moment on which side of the 
 fire lay the only chance of rescue ; as almost any 
 other would have fired at the tiger before coming 
 within the distance at which a revolver could be 
 trusted to strike the bull's-eye. But your arm is evi- 
 dently very painful." 
 
 '*I am ashamed you should see it," said Darcy; 
 "but I do not bear pain well. Our surgeon tries to 
 excuse me by saying I suffer more than others ; but 
 I suppose all human flesh is much alike in that 
 way."
 
 76 ERKANT. 
 
 ''Nonsense!" the other answered. ''Men no 
 more feel pain alike than frogs or fish feel like horses 
 or dogs. A European would die of sheer agony 
 under tortures the Eed Indian bears steadily. The 
 finest nervous organizations, men of whom much 
 can be made, who are capable of great things in 
 thought or action, are almost always acutely sensitive 
 to pain as to ]3leasure. It is the inferior natures that 
 endure easily. Men who can be hired to die as felons 
 for a few pieces of gold flinch, though they be ten to 
 ■one, before soldiers like yours, who would hold that 
 no price could pay a man for incurring certain death. 
 Military courage really consists, in nine cases out of 
 ten, in a bad estimate of probabilities, and generally 
 in the tenth case in a power to forget the probabilities 
 altogether. Very few but run, unless under furious 
 excitement, when they realize that the chances of life 
 and death are even ; and those who will face a certainty 
 of death are almost exclusively found among the class 
 to whom, from tradition and training, death is less 
 terrible than dishonour." 
 
 "I suppose," returned Darcy, "the courage of 
 nearly all thoughtful and susceptible men must rest 
 on that ground. We must halt presently : I wish I 
 saw a secure resting-place. The moon will be down 
 in another half-hour." 
 
 The German's experience was found of great j)racti- 
 cal service. He indicated to his friend, whose military 
 knowledge, as yet purely theoretical, left him some- 
 what at a loss, the ease with which a ruined Native 
 temple might, by placing two sentries, be made a safe 
 shelter for both horses and men, and suggested that the
 
 EN KOUTE. 77 
 
 grain for the former should be boiled, to be the more 
 easily digested before the morning start. The march 
 was of course a forced one : two hundred miles had to 
 be traversed with the utmost possible speed. Marching 
 in the heat of the sun would have knocked up both 
 men and horses ; to move by night, except during the 
 period of moonlight, was impossible, utter darkness 
 closing in shortly after sunset. Within some hours' 
 march of their objective point, Darcy halted his 
 party for rest in a wood of no great extent. They 
 had to depend on the country for forage, moving 
 in the lightest j)ossible order, and carried no other 
 shelter for man or beast than a blanket. This the 
 German taught them to sling on two strong short 
 stakes as a hammock above the dew-soaked ground ; 
 and the men were conscious of more than one con- 
 siderable alleviation of the hardships of their journey 
 due to the orders suggested by his companion to their 
 young chief.
 
 78 ERRANT. 
 
 CHAPTEK VI. 
 
 THE BURST OF THE THUNDERSTORM. 
 
 " Now by the lips of those we love, fair gentlemen of France, 
 Charge for the golden Lilies ! upon them with the lance ! " 
 
 The burning heat of the sun was beginning to be felt, 
 and would have tried the endurance of the party after 
 their long and exhausting march more severely but 
 for the precaution which had substituted a morning 
 draught of coffee for their favourite spirits, when 
 Darcy halted them just below the ridge of a rising 
 ground, under cover of a line of broad shady trees. 
 Dismounting himself, he crept to the top and looked 
 carefully for some time through his field-glass. 
 
 " The Kesidency lies some three miles off, but is 
 hidden by a wood." 
 
 At this moment a corporal, who, with a single 
 comrade, had been detached to watch the • left rear, 
 as the point of probable danger, rode up and saluted. 
 
 *' Lieutenant," he said, *^ I saw, at some distance, 
 a number of what seemed to be Native horse soldiers, 
 not in our uniform. The man at their head was 
 dressed in the usual gorgeous fashion of their richer 
 chiefs. I took him to be a Nawab or a Eajah." 
 
 Eiding backward a few rods so as to obtain a view
 
 THE BURST OF THE THUNDERSTORM. 79 
 
 in the direction indicated, the officer scanned the 
 landscape for some moments with his field-glass. 
 
 " I can't make out the force he describes ; they are 
 moving away from us," he said to his friend as he 
 xeturned. " But it may well be the Eajah of Kulwar ; 
 and if so, all depends on his mood of the moment. — 
 James," in a low tone to the corporal, " don't fancy 
 that I don't know you for a gentleman. I expect 
 from you, now, a gentleman's sense and coolness, as 
 well as a gentleman's courage. Take Williams with 
 you ; steal forward without being seen till you come 
 within sight of the Kesidency. Get as near as you 
 can without detection, and bring back word exactly 
 how things are going there. If you see that the place 
 is attacked, send him back to report at once, and push 
 on to observe. If all is well come back quietly ; don't 
 try to enter. Keep cool ; we can't afford either a delay 
 or a blunder. — Now," he remarked to Von Arnheim, 
 as, carefully screening themselves under the shade of 
 one of the largest trees, they followed anxiously the 
 movements of their scouts, "if that Native force are 
 resolute enemies it is all over with us, and, what is 
 of more consequence, with Kavanagh and his family. 
 If it be the Eajah, I cannot but hope that we may at 
 least induce him to temporize. He is a man of sense, 
 and will know that while the slaughter of a small 
 party and the murder of a single family can do us 
 little harm, it involves him in utter ruin if the event 
 turns in our favour. But I hope he will not come up 
 till we know what is going on yonder. It stands to 
 reason that he should be our enemy, that he should 
 wish to see us destroyed ; but he knows so much more,
 
 80 EKRANT. 
 
 he is so much better educated than nine Native chiefs^ 
 in ten, that he may be aware how certainly, should 
 the worst befall us here, England will reconquer India 
 and take vengeance for us. On the chance that he 
 will remember this, and that his interest and not his 
 natural feeling will govern his conduct, rests for the 
 time the fortune of our cause in this province." 
 
 *' True," replied the other. " But if I were he, 
 I should think a chance of vengeance, with the pro- 
 bability of dying sword in hand, preferable to submis- 
 sion or neutrality." 
 
 *' I am afraid he will agree with you — I should," 
 said Darcy, gravely and somewhat sadly. 
 
 They had now lost sight for a few minutes of their 
 scouts. 
 
 "Hark ! " cried the German, suddenly, "that was 
 a musket-shot. There ! that is another." 
 
 "Is it?" said Darcy. "I hardly caught the 
 sound." 
 
 " You are more used to volleys," replied Von 
 Arnheim. " You are likely to know the sound of a 
 single musket-shot before long as well as I. Yes, 
 there is one of your men in sight, and riding at full 
 speed." 
 
 It was so ; and Darcy instantly drew up his troop 
 in line, and moved them forward at a trot, riding 
 himself in advance to meet the flying messenger. 
 The trooper reeled in his saddle as he approached 
 and saluted with his rein-hand, the sword-arm hanging 
 powerless by his side. 
 
 " The Eesidency is attacked. Lieutenant. James 
 has gone forward ; he sent me back to warn you, and
 
 THE BURST OF THE THUNDERSTOKM. 81 
 
 as I got through the trees two shots were fired at 
 me." 
 
 The man had husbanded his last breath to utter 
 his report, and with the last words fell helplessly from 
 his saddle. Darcy was about to dismount to his aid, 
 when the German, who with the rest of the party had 
 come up, touched him on the shoulder. 
 
 "You have no time for wounded men," he said. 
 " It is hard, but you must leave him to his fate." 
 
 " Gallop ! " cried Darcy ; and, reluctantly leaving 
 the dying man to perish, whether from the wounds he 
 had already received, or the swords of enemies who 
 might be lurking within reach, the little band rode 
 forward at speed, till they were halted suddenly under 
 shelter of that grove which had hitherto screened. the 
 Kesidency from their sight. Pdding forward a few 
 lengths, Darcy saw that a task desperate, if not utterly 
 hopeless, lay before him. The Eesidency itself, a 
 somewhat extensive building on one floor, crowned 
 the summit of a small eminence laid out as a garden, 
 with numerous fine trees therein. These and the out- 
 buildings now served to shelter enemies who, to the 
 number of two or three hundred, were threatening the 
 dwelling itself, and to hinder the defence, which could 
 depend only on the accurate firing of its sheltered 
 inmates. As Darcy looked upon the swarming assail- 
 ants, endeavouring to select instantaneously the best 
 point for attack, a shot fired from the roof was an- 
 swered by a scattering volley from without ; and the 
 compound, as the grounds of an Indian dwelling are 
 called, was instantly filled with smoke, while the 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 82 EPtEANT. 
 
 assailants, emboldened by numbers, closed nearer 
 and nearer to the building. 
 
 "There is but one chance," thought Darcy, "and 
 that is a bad one." 
 
 He halted his men for a moment on the open 
 ground at the edge of the grove to form a more ac- 
 curate line than had been possible while broken by 
 the trees. At this moment a Native darted from the 
 wood at some little distance, shouting, and evidently 
 eager to warn the assailants of the Eesidency ; but 
 before his shouts were noticed an English trooper, 
 dashing from another part of the grove, intercepted 
 and cut him down ; and Darcy recognized the scout 
 he had sent forward. 
 
 " If we get through," he said, turning to his men, 
 '* wheel and form immediately in front of the verandah, 
 and unsling carbines. Now — charge ! " 
 
 A smooth grassy slope of some three hundred yards 
 in extent separated them from the rear of the enemy, 
 and was traversed in but a few seconds. They were 
 seen before they had crossed half the space, and many 
 of the enemy turned to confront them. But, as Darcy 
 observed at once, they were not in uniform ; were not 
 mutinous Sepoys, but Natives who, though familiar 
 with the use of their weapons, were wholly untrained 
 "to mutual support, and without a tincture of discip- 
 line, probably without recognized leadership. Many 
 of them indeed fled across the compound as the 
 Lancers swept down ; but those who remained formed 
 a dense irregular line far outflanking his own. 
 But the impetus of the charge and the sight of the 
 .sharp gleaming lances partly bent by sheer terror,
 
 THE BUEST OF THE THUNDEESTOEM. 83 
 
 partly broke by physical force, an enemy who, had 
 they possessed any organization or discipline, or had 
 they displayed as a body that courage which pro- 
 bably few of them individually lacked, must have 
 annihilated the score of troopers. As it was, the 
 latter rode through the scattering fire and the raised 
 tulwars and spears with the loss of but two of their 
 number, leaving more than a dozen of their antago- 
 nists dead or disabled. Darcy himself could take no 
 personal part in the slaughter ; but riding two lengths 
 in advance of his line, and trusting solely to the 
 strength and speed of his horse, he dashed into the 
 wavering ranks, and emerged still in front of his men, 
 leading them by example to the summit of the slope. 
 There, obedient to orders, they wheeled and le'felled 
 their carbines. 
 
 *' Hold ! " cried Darcy, seeing that on this side the 
 enemy were broken, and would not for some minutes 
 be able to rally. Wheeling to the right, he took in 
 flank the assailants of the front of the Kesidency. A 
 volley from all the carbines of the band, followed by 
 a charge in which the weight of the horses and the 
 butts of the carbines told as effectively as the lances 
 had done before, hurled back upon their friends on 
 the third side of the little eminence the surprised 
 and confounded rabble. Bringing the horses under 
 shelter, Darcy led the remnant of his troop, fifteen 
 or sixteen still effective men, right into the building 
 itself, which had now been stormed from the rear. 
 A hand-to-hand fight took place in the wide passages 
 and rooms at the back ; but, unprepared for an 
 encounter with so numerous an enemy, the assailants
 
 84 EEEANT. 
 
 speedily gave way in panic, believing that a British 
 regiment at least had come to the rescue of a 
 dwelling whose guard when they assailed it con- 
 sisted as they knew of not more than a dozen 
 Native soldiers or police, whereof some were probably 
 untrustworthy. Posting his men at the windows, 
 under such shelter as they could improvize, and 
 bidding them take steady individual aim at any as- 
 sailants, Darcy sought the roof; where, as he thought, 
 sheltered by the low parapet, the Eesident himself 
 and the survivors of his j)arty were most likely to 
 be found. The scene that met his eyes sickened 
 with horror one who, soldier as he was, had yet 
 never seen violent death before this day. Three or 
 four wounded and dead lay about in pools of blood. 
 These were Natives who had proved, as so many did 
 under whatever temj^tation, true to the salt they had 
 eaten and the master they had served. But in the 
 middle of the roof crouched a group of English women, 
 and on the lap of the central figure rested the un- 
 covered head of one whose face and form were not 
 wholly unknown to him. Pierced by two balls through 
 the lungs, his light clothing soaked and crimson with 
 blood, lay Kavanagh himself; not the least able or 
 least trusted of those to whom the Government at 
 Calcutta had entrusted the management of the vassal 
 States of the North-West. His wife, unconscious of 
 all around her, bent over her dying husband, wiping 
 constantly from his lips the bloody foam that rose 
 with every gasp and well-nigh choked him. Her two 
 daughters, girls just entering on womanhood, hung 
 horror-stricken and helpless over their father, whose
 
 THE BUKST OF THE THUNDERSTORM. 85 
 
 eyes when they opened turned with an expression 
 of unutterable pain and terror from one to another 
 of the faces so dear to him, whose fate he knew to 
 be involved in his own, and whose peril racked his 
 spirit with agony, amid the gathering darkness of 
 death; a death which, but for their sake, he would 
 have encountered willingly, as always a possible if 
 not probable incident of the service in which he had 
 deliberately engaged. The look of unspeakable anguish 
 on his countenance was not called forth by the wounds 
 of which he was dying, but by the thought of that 
 which within a few moments of his death, perhaps 
 even before his eyes were closed to all sights of this 
 world, awaited the beloved ones beside him. As 
 Darcy approached he lifted his heavy lids, and recog- 
 nized, not indeed the countenance, but the uniform. 
 With one last effort of the manly vigour and energy 
 he had enjoyed that morning, he raised himself, still 
 resting on his wife's lap, sufficiently to look the 
 rescuer full in the face. 
 
 " You have come in time," he said. '' Thank God 
 for that ! Try what you can do with the Eajah. If I 
 had lived I might ..." 
 
 The exertion of speech was fatal. A fearful gush of 
 blood choked his utterance ; and with a violent 
 shudder the wounded man fell back dead, happy that 
 in his last moments he believed the rescue complete, 
 knew nothing of the peril that, though repelled for one 
 moment, still gathered around his home. Standing 
 beside the group of appalled mourners, Darcy's figure 
 was of course visible above the low parapet to eyes at 
 some distance, and as he rose from stooping over the
 
 8Q ERRANT. 
 
 corpse three bullets whizzed close to his person and 
 over the heads that still bent above the dead father 
 and husband. Aware that what hope there might be 
 depended on his own life, Darcy threw himself flat on 
 the flags under the shelter of the parapet as he spoke. 
 His disappearance, even were he not thought to be 
 wounded or killed, would prevent the enemy from 
 firing where only women were now visible. 
 
 *'You must come down at once. Lady Helen," he 
 said in the quick, decided, but low and perfectly steady 
 tone natural where pressing danger to the living leaves 
 no leisure for mourning over the fallen. *' This may 
 be the best place for defence, but it is that which most 
 certainly draws the fire of the enemy." 
 
 Eising with some precaution to his knees, he took 
 the hand of the widow, who half consciously permitted 
 him to lead her below, her daughters instinctively fol- 
 lowing. Placing them in the innermost portion of the 
 dwelling, the young officer approached the nearest 
 window and looked out, surprised that on both sides 
 but a few shots had been interchanged in the two or 
 three minutes that had elapsed since the assailants 
 had been driven out of the house itself. He saw, 
 however, that they had been scared for the time by 
 the suddenness of his attack and by the rapidity with 
 which his blows had been repeated in three distinct 
 quarters, and had fallen back in confusion and panic. 
 They had already recognized by the number of horses 
 that those who had dispersed them were but a small 
 force, though their fear still in all probability greatly 
 exaggerated his numbers. They were recovering their 
 courage, not however as yet attempting boldly ta
 
 THE BURST OF THE THUNDEESTORM. 87 
 
 storm the house, but preparing to fire by scores at 
 every opening and to direct a heavy volley on the 
 roof. Darcy could spare no men to occupy this, the 
 most effective position for defence, since few of the 
 windows were barricaded, and those that remained 
 open, if left unguarded, would enable the enemy at 
 once to seize the building and hold all within or 
 above at their mercy. The whole defensive force 
 both of British troopers and of the Native guard did 
 not now much exceed a score, and these were not 
 strong enough to hold the building for five minutes 
 against an attack at close quarters. James and the 
 German rendered most active and valuable assistance, 
 instructing the defenders how to protect themselves 
 with furniture or cushions; and, where nothing 
 capable of repelling a bullet could be found, to perplex 
 and divert the enemy's fire, by simply screening their 
 forms behind a sheet or blanket. 
 
 Sheltering themselves under trees and in the out- 
 buildings, the boldest of the enemy were again 
 gathering to the attack, and a dozen dropping shots 
 announced the recommencement of their fire. 
 
 *'Go up to the roof, James," said Darcy. '^Keep 
 under cover, and see if anything be approaching. If 
 not, I need not tell you what will happen." 
 
 He was surprised to see the trooper as he obeyed 
 carry off with him as many small cushions, cloths, 
 and other articles of the same kind as he could lay 
 hands on ; but there was no time for comment or 
 inquiry. 
 
 '' Don't waste a shot," he said, leaving the men in 
 that room to defend its windows, ''and don't expose
 
 8S ERRANT. 
 
 yourselves. Eemember, the safety of all and of tlie 
 ladies depends upon each single life. One window 
 forced, and all is over. We may have rescue yet ; if 
 not, you know how to die like Englishmen." 
 
 "Aye, sir, we can do that. But if there are ladies 
 here, don't leave them to them Moors alive." 
 
 " Take charge of the front. Von Arnheim," said 
 Darcy, as the crash and rattle of musketry, and the 
 savage yells from without, announced that the attack 
 had commenced in earnest. " The women are in the 
 inmost room ; they should not fall alive into these 
 
 wretches' hands. And now " he held out his 
 
 hand. 
 
 The German clasped it earnestly. *' Adieu," he 
 muttered. " I wonder whether there be any truth in 
 the old sagen ? If so, Darcy, may I find myself near 
 you to-night." 
 
 *' I have blundered," said Darcy to himself bitterly, 
 as he took his post at the rear, where he considered 
 the danger greatest and most pressing, from the 
 proximity of the outbuildings. " If Vane had 
 brought a squadron or a troop, as, but for my pre- 
 sumptuous meddling, he might have done, we should 
 have had a better chance. And yet — I don't know ; 
 sixty, or even a hundred, men could not hold this 
 place many hours longer if the whole country is up." \ 
 
 For his purpose the young officer had chosen his 
 men well. Some of them had seen service ; scarcely 
 one but had been engaged in some struggle for life 
 amid scenes more or less lawless. They might mutiny 
 in quarters or be troublesome on the march ; but in 
 the whole regiment no twenty men could have been
 
 THE BUEST OF THE THUNDERSTOEM. 89 
 
 picked so sure to fight to tlie last, and figlit with the 
 coolness as well as the courage of desperadoes — to kill 
 as well as to die. So steadily and skilfully did they 
 single out the most venturous of the enemy — so cer- 
 tain and deadly was their aim at the close quarters to 
 which the situation reduced the attack, trees, fences, 
 and other obstacles rendering it impossible to fire with 
 effect at more than sixty yards' distance from the 
 house — that though from the outbuildings and other 
 covers a constant fire was kept up, even this lost half 
 its effect from the aversion of the Native marksmen to 
 expose themselves ; and though frequently urged to 
 close, they could not be brought to attempt to force 
 the windows from which unseen antagonists sent forth 
 each minute almost certain death. But the country 
 around had been raised by news of the conflict, and 
 the numbers of the besiegers increased ; while the 
 new-comers w^ere unaffected by the panic and dismay 
 which Darcy's surprise had inspired among those who 
 suffered from it. A dozen balls had passed within a 
 couple of minutes through the window near which 
 Darcy knelt, resting a rifle, taken from one of the 
 slain defenders, on a chair sheltered by a mattress, 
 and with his left hand loading and firing steadily ; — 
 taking a soldier's part in the defence, while watching 
 the rear and listening for sounds elsewhere with all 
 the vigilance of a commander under circumstances so 
 desperate. At any moment some point in the building 
 might be forced, and then all was over. He was now, 
 however, surprised by the diversion of a great part of 
 the enemy's fire to the roof, where, as he knew, except 
 James, none of the defenders were stationed.
 
 90 EREANT. 
 
 "Well that they waste powder and shot in that 
 fashion," he thought; "but I am afraid they have 
 so plentiful a supply that it will make but very little 
 difference." 
 
 "Lieutenant," said a trooper near him, "the word 
 is passed that our cartridges are falling short. We 
 had but sixty to begin with, and more than half are 
 expended." 
 
 " Pass the word to shoot from time to time, not to 
 let them think we are short ; but to fire only when 
 there is fair certainty of striking. I forgot that," he 
 thought. "Even if these fellows don't take heart, 
 our defence is a question only of time — and of 
 minutes." 
 
 Two hours had elapsed since the Eesidency had 
 been thus garrisoned, and the ammunition of its 
 defenders was so reduced that most shrank from 
 firing save when the Natives, gathering courage from 
 impunity, ventured on some more than usually rash 
 exposure. Their leaders had by this time made out 
 pretty certainly the force of the defenders, and having 
 persuaded their followers that there could not by 
 possibility be thirty men within the building, had 
 animated them for a rush. They came on, yelling, 
 firing much at random, brandishing swords and 
 clubbed muskets. The fire drawn by this venture from 
 every window checked them again, and yet again, long 
 enough to allow the troopers to reload and fire, and 
 nearly every shot told. But the loss of two or three 
 score among many hundreds no longer affected men 
 who knew that victory was in their own hands. 
 
 "You will let me die by your side, Lieutenant?'"
 
 THE BURST OF THE THUNDEESTORM. 91 
 
 Darcy heard, and turning, saw James beside him. 
 " I made up what they took for crouching figures on 
 the roof, and drew as much of their fire there as I 
 could. But there are some three or four hundred men 
 coming up to reinforce them, and these seem to be 
 trained cavaby, though not ours. It is all over, 
 Mr. Darcy ; no one will know, and I shan't live to 
 tell it. You called me a gentleman. It is years 
 since I touched a gentleman's hand — are you too 
 proud to give yours to a trooper in your regiment ? " 
 
 " Proud to give it to a brave man," answered Darcy, 
 holding out his left hand, disregardful of military 
 etiquette, to the comrade who had come to die beside 
 
 him. "You know my right " He interrupted 
 
 himself to aim steadily at one of the assailants, wht), 
 displaying far greater nerve and daring than the rest, 
 had more than once brought his followers in dangerous 
 proximity to the window. This man's fall dismayed 
 them for but a moment ; then, with a cry of rage, 
 they rushed forward and were clambering over the 
 low railing of the verandah, despite the death of three 
 shot down by Darcy' s revolver and the muskets of the 
 two troopers near him, both now wounded. The 
 Englishmen had sprung up with lance or sword in 
 hand, and James, flinging the former weapon with all 
 his force, had sent it through the body of the nearest 
 assailant. Another second and a Native spear struck 
 Darcy in the breast through the sling that held his 
 right arm, and flung him to the ground. Before 
 he could struggle to his feet a tulwar would have cloven 
 through his neck, but that James's sword interposing 
 cut down the assailant, and checked the rush for
 
 92 EKKANT. 
 
 another second. But as in the rear, so all around, 
 the assault had closed in, and the enemy were over- 
 whelming the little garrison by sheer weight and 
 l^hysical force. Suddenly the sound of a trumpet 
 •and a cry in Hindoostanee checked the assault. Both 
 parties, surprised, dropped for an instant the points 
 of their weapons, and a signal word passed along the 
 Native line. 
 
 " Hold ! " shouted at its utmost pitch a voice which 
 Darcy recognized, in the tongue of the enemy. 
 ^'Hold, and fall back. I Avill have these men 
 prisoners alive, not their dead bodies. Bid them 
 cease firing, if they would save themselves and their 
 women." 
 
 The greater part of the Natives obeyed and slowly 
 drew back. But it is scarcely easier to snatch the 
 prey in the moment of triumph from savage men 
 than from the fiercest beasts. At more than one 
 point hand-to-hand fighting having already begun, 
 was hardly to be checked ; and, persistent in slaying, 
 the defenders would have brought certain slaughter 
 on themselves and their comrades, had not Darcy 
 promptly seized what might be a chance of safety 
 when instant destruction was otherwise certain. 
 
 " Cease firing," he shouted, '^ and pass the word to 
 ground arms along the line." 
 
 His word was heard by half the garrison, and in 
 another minute the command had passed and been 
 obeyed throughout. Hastening up to the roof, he 
 saw by what means the assault had been checked 
 .and the doomed lives within saved for the moment. 
 Without the compound, ranged in two long regular
 
 THE BURST OF THE THUNDERSTORM. 93 
 
 lines, was halted a body of fairty disciplined Native 
 cavalry. In their front, held by a young Indian noble^ 
 whose rank was indicated by his dress and arms, 
 hung the standard of the Eajah of Kulwar. That 
 Prince himself had ridden up to the front of the 
 house, and his authority, strenuously and peremptorily 
 exerted, had for a moment quelled the fury of men 
 half of whom were his immediate subjects ; while the 
 other half revered him as the chief of one of the 
 greatest and oldest houses in that part of India, 
 known and admired among them for his high spirit 
 and venerated for his strict adherence to the obliga- 
 tions of his caste. He started slightly as he recog- 
 nized on the roof, not indeed the face black with 
 powder and still disfigured by the scars of the fire, 
 but the uniform of the Lancer. 
 
 " Where," he inquired, in English, " is Mr. 
 Kavanagh?" 
 
 " Dead, Eajah," was the reply ; " shot by this rabble 
 in the first attack before I came up." 
 
 The Indian started visibly and a dark cloud of 
 anger, dismay, or both, passed over his face. 
 
 '' That is ill done," he said. " Dogs," he added, 
 turning to the Natives around him, "how dare you 
 attack without my orders any house in my dominion ? 
 How dare you commit me with the British Government 
 by slaying its minister without my order ? I should 
 do well to bid my troopers cut you down to a man." 
 
 His sovereign claim on their fealty revived by the 
 circumstances of the time — recognizing their natural 
 Prince, who, the supreme authority temporarily at 
 least overthrown, was now once more their absolute-
 
 94 EREANT. 
 
 master — the crowd were awed by the rebuke and 
 terrified by the menace, and slunk backward without 
 excuse or reply. 
 
 " You must surrender," said the Eajah, once more 
 addressing the officer, but speaking now in his Native 
 tongue. '' If Mr. Kavanagh were living I could treat 
 with him ; but to you I can only say surrender at 
 once — as prisoners of war," he added in English, so 
 quickly that the syllables could hardly be caught by 
 those about him, much less their special significance 
 understood. 
 
 "You do ill, Eajah, to treat British soldiers as 
 your enemies, to range yourself among those who 
 have made war on our raj, and whose war is made 
 by treachery and murder. I am sure you had no 
 part in the traitorous attack on the Eesidency and the 
 murder of Mr. Kavanagh ; and, if you are loyal, I 
 give you the word of a British officer that your own 
 loyalty shall not be forgotten, nor the crime of your 
 subjects laid to your charge." 
 
 *' I should know your voice," the Eajah said. " But," 
 he added in a moment, "whoever you are, I have but 
 one answer to make. Surrender to me, and I promise 
 your lives ; if you resist I could not save you if I 
 would." 
 
 "I surrender, then," Darcy replied, " on condition 
 that the ladies of the Eesidency are committed to 
 your honour, and shall be treated with respect till 
 you can return them to a British station. Women 
 are not prisoners of war. For the rest, there is with 
 me a gentleman, lately a guest of your own, who is 
 no servant of the Queen or of the Company, nor yet
 
 THE BURST OF THE THUNDERSTORM. 95 
 
 an Englishman. If you respect the laws of war and 
 the rights of hospitality, you Imow that honour requires 
 you to dismiss him in honour and safety." 
 
 *' No," said the Count von Arnheim, who now stood 
 by Darcy's side. ''I fought with my friends, and I 
 will share their fate, be it what it may." 
 
 ''You are my friend and guest, sahib," answered 
 the Kajah, courteously. " For you, sir " — to Darcy — 
 "when the house and your arms are given up, I 
 promise your lives ; and for the household of the late 
 Eesident, they shall be safe till I can send them in 
 safety and honour to a British station ; and in return 
 you will avouch to your Government that I was 
 innocent of the murder of Mr. Kavanagh." 
 
 " Agreed, Eajah," said Darcy. " And now be good 
 enough to order your own troopers to guard the 
 Eesidency while I muster the garrison, and form 
 them in front to receive us as we march out, or others 
 will dishonour the word you have pledged." 
 
 Gathering his men hastily together and forming 
 them in military order, Darcy announced the terms 
 of the capitulation. Their faces indicated bitter 
 humiliation and anger; but only boys could have 
 been foolish enough to resent a submission, which, 
 if it should have gained them no more than a respite, 
 had at least saved an English matron and English 
 maidens from the unutterable horrors of falling into 
 the hands of an infuriate Indian rabble. Then the 
 young officer entered the room where the ladies, whom 
 Von Arnheim had already informed of the capitulation, 
 awaited him. Lady Helen, utterly broken down and 
 stunned by her husband's horrible death under her
 
 96 EERANT. 
 
 own eyes, hardly seemed to understand her situation^ 
 or the few words of attempted consolation that Darcy 
 ventured. But her elder daughter, a girl of scarcely 
 seventeen, was more alive to what was passing. 
 
 ''My father," she observed, in a low tone, "said 
 but this morning that an English officer should never 
 surrender to a Native enemy, especially in times like 
 these ; that it was better to die fighting to the last, 
 since no terms of capitulation could be relied upon." 
 
 " Possibly," said Darcy. " The worst that could 
 befall us was the death of soldiers, and we may fare 
 worse as prisoners. But all was over. Another 
 minute would have left you and your sister and 
 mother at the mercy of a Native mob, and — you do 
 not know what that means ; but to save you from 
 that it was our duty to surrender, as, could we have 
 saved you with our lives, it would have been an easier 
 duty to die." 
 
 "And," the girl asked, colouring deeply and then 
 turning pale as death, " what may be our fate as 
 prisoners ? " 
 
 " I know%" he replied, " the Chief to whom I have 
 surrendered. He has pledged his faith for your safe 
 and honourable treatment till you are restored to 
 British protection. I think he will keep his word if 
 he can ; but if the w^orst happen — if only death can 
 save you from what is worse than death" — he took 
 from a small inner pocket in his tunic a little quill 
 such as is often employed by Natives to conceal small 
 notes or similar objects, as it can be used to keep 
 open the holes bored for earrings, without exciting 
 suspicion. " Fearing what may happen to any of us
 
 THE BURST OF THE THUNDERSTORM. 97 
 
 in these days — dreading lest torture should drive me 
 to betray my comrades or my honour — I have carried 
 this about with me for some time. You may need it 
 worse than I. Take it, but use it only at the last 
 moment ; for, placed in your mouth and chewed, it 
 will give the safety of the grave in a single instant." 
 
 Her colour changed from scarlet to a ghostly white 
 more than once as he spoke these few words ; but her 
 little hand scarcely trembled as she took the deadly 
 present. 
 
 '*I thank you," she murmured, "more than I can 
 say. No more precious gift was ever given me." 
 
 Count von Arnheim gave his arm to Lady Helen 
 and led her out, still apparently insensible to all that 
 passed. Her two daughters accompanied Dsixcj. 
 When safe between the steady lines of Native troopers 
 that fronted them on either side, the young officer, 
 pressing the hand of the fair companion to whom he 
 had just spoken, fell back to the head of his men; 
 and as they piled their arms he drew with his left 
 hand his own sword and surrendered it to the Eajah 
 in person. Looking him closely and intently in the 
 face, the latter spoke in a low tone — 
 
 '* I recognize you now. Lieutenant Darcy, and I 
 have not forgotten. I myself could not do better for 
 you than to make you my prisoners for the moment. 
 To-night I will talk with you again." 
 
 The ladies were placed in palanquins. Darcy and 
 the Count were, by the grace of their captor, per- 
 mitted to mount their own chargers, and, closely 
 guarded, rode by his side. The men followed, dis- 
 armed and on foot, between two long rows of Native 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 98 EKKANT. 
 
 horsemen; strictly watched, but neither bound nor 
 treated with rudeness by their captors, better dis- 
 ciplined apparently than almost any body of troops 
 in the service of a Native Prince. 
 
 The sun was setting as, filing up a long broad 
 slope, they reached the moat which guarded on this 
 side the Eajah's old-fashioned, half-ruinous fortress- 
 palace, standing on the summit of a hill precipitous 
 on the three other sides, but hollowed, according to 
 repute, by chambers natural or artificial, forming one 
 of the oldest cave temples of India. The German 
 closely scanned the wall of weather-worn stone, which 
 crossed the narrow neck of the mountain peninsula, 
 if we may so call it, and with a dry moat protected it 
 on its one accessible side. 
 
 *' Earth piled against those stones would make 
 them impenetrable to anything but heavy guns," he 
 murmured in French to Darcy, as they waited for the 
 lowering of the clumsy drawbridge. This passed, 
 they were escorted by Native soldiers, sternly silent, 
 but manifesting neither goodwill nor open animosity, 
 to a tolerably furnished but small chamber on an 
 upper floor of the somewhat extensive building. 
 The ladies, they gathered, had been conveyed to the 
 zenana of the Eajah ; while the troopers were con- 
 fined under strong guard in a half- subterranean vault 
 or dungeon.
 
 ( 9^ ) 
 
 CHAPTEK VII. 
 
 V^ VICTIS ! 
 " And blood for blood these Indian plains bedew. " 
 
 *' I don't deny, Eajah, that, in your place, I might 
 desire before all things to measure swords with the 
 men who had slighted and insulted me, and with the 
 Power that had reduced me to insignificance and in- 
 action. But I should hesitate to seek vengeance by 
 leaguing with mutineers and murderers. No exploits, 
 no successes, can make heroes of the leaders in this 
 rebellion. Their names will be stained with the blood 
 of men assassinated by treachery, shot in the back by 
 their pretended friends and sworn followers, or stabbed 
 in their sleep ; and of women and children butchered 
 and outraged by those to whose fidelity their husbands 
 and fathers had trusted. And you yourself must 
 know that if you join the rebels, no evidence will 
 clear your fame before the world from complicity in 
 the murder of Mr. Kavanagh. Von Arnheim and I 
 may believe you innocent, but no one else will. Thus 
 you will not have the satisfaction, which might per- 
 haps be that you would choose above all others, of 
 dying sword in hand on the last battle-field after an 
 honourable struggle; and success you must know is 
 impossible."
 
 100 EEKANT. 
 
 The Indian Prince, a stately, handsome, well-made 
 gentleman of some thirty years, scarcely darker in 
 colour than most Italians, and with the featm-es, air, 
 and bearing that became the descendant of a long 
 line of gentlemen and soldiers, listened with grave 
 dignity and careful attention as Darcy spoke ; his 
 physiognomy sufficiently attesting the intellect of a 
 capable politician, his manner the thoughtful interest 
 of a statesman at a most critical juncture in his own 
 fortunes and those of his country. 
 
 "I will not interrupt you now," he answered, as the 
 other paused for a moment. '' You, of course, as it 
 is your duty to do, speak in the interest of your 
 Sovereign and your country. But I know that even 
 for their interest such Englishmen as you are do not 
 lie. If you keep back part of the case, you believe 
 all that you do say." 
 
 *' I will put the whole fairly before your Highness," 
 replied Darcy. *'If the Hindoo and the Mussulman 
 can act together, if you can find leaders who will 
 command the allegiance of both, if all your various 
 races or princes at feud with one another for ages co- 
 operate heartily — you may at first drive us back on 
 the sea and slaughter all the English, except their 
 few concentrated garrisons, from the frontier of the 
 Punjaub to Calcutta. But you know how small is 
 the chance of any such concert. Grant, what is pos- 
 sible, that the whole Army of Bengal will rise, that 
 all the North-West will be in rebellion, that we shall 
 hold only a few strong positions, and shall lose some 
 hundreds of brave men and helpless women. Sup- 
 pose yourselves victorious. What is the best you can
 
 v^ viOTie! 101 
 
 look to ? Anarchy and ravage throughout all India, 
 such as j)revailed before the British conquest, when 
 the Mahrattas and the Pindarees desolated at their 
 pleasure one tract of rich and defenceless country 
 after another, and reduced millions to die of hunger 
 when their harvests were swept away; or else the 
 re-establishment of the Mahometan empire and 
 Mahometan ascendency. Was that better than ours ? 
 Bat your chance even of temporary success is not a 
 good one. Do you know that at this moment a 
 powerful British expedition, stronger than the forces 
 with which we conquered Mysore, ten times greater 
 than that which reduced Bengal in a single battle, 
 is on its way to China and within reach of the 
 Viceroy's summons ? How long will it be before tliat 
 force, against wiiich demoralized mutineers or un- 
 disciplined Native levies could not stand in a single 
 battle-field, will land at Calcutta ? But suppose the 
 best that can happen for the rebels ; suppose we had 
 lost all but our foothold in Lower Bengal, Madras, 
 Bombay, and the Punjaub. We shall hold that by 
 turning the ambition and vengeance of the Sikhs 
 upon the Native army which claims to have beaten 
 them, but which they affirm would have fled before 
 the Khalsa but for our European regiments. Do you 
 think that England would leave her servants' murder 
 unpunished, the butchery of her women unrevenged, 
 the stain on her glory uncleansed ? Her entire force 
 — a force that less than fifty years ago braved half 
 Europe united against her under the greatest soldier 
 Europe has seen — would be gathered and launched 
 upon India. All her resources in men and wealth
 
 102 ERRANT. 
 
 would be lavished, if necessary for years, to regain 
 her empire and redeem her honour. You say that 
 I speak as a servant of the Queen of England. Yon 
 Arnheim, your friend and guest, owes no such allegi- 
 ance ; ask him whether there be the faintest possi- 
 bility that even a temporary overthrow of the British 
 raj could end in anything but reconquest and terrible 
 revenge." 
 
 "None whatever," Von Arnheim replied. "Eng- 
 land would not be safe in Europe, she could retain no 
 portion of her empire, were she to be driven from 
 India and not regain by the sword what she has held 
 by the sword for a hundred years." 
 
 " On the other hand, Eajali," continued Darcy, 
 " look at your own personal position. Joining our 
 enemies, you are one among a hundred ambitious 
 rivals, influential no doubt but with no chance of the 
 leadership, and certain to find your own ability, 
 courage, and resolve rendered useless by divided 
 counsels and worthless commanders. And when the 
 day of vengeance comes, you will be remembered and 
 your name will be recorded in history as the author 
 of this morning's treacherous outrage. Your house 
 and your lineage will be blotted from the land. 
 Adhere loyally to the Government, in spite of the 
 wrongs or affronts you have received, and you may 
 reasonably and surely expect such reward and honour 
 as mere policy must oblige the Company to give to a 
 distinguished Indian Prince, who at this critical 
 moment throws his sword into our scale ; and 
 military service and military honour are at least 
 as open to you on our side as on the other."
 
 V^ VICTIS! 103 
 
 '*You forget one fact," said the Eajali, quietly, 
 ''which has touched every Native Prince, every Eajah 
 and Zemindar throughout the land : — ^your policy of 
 resumption, and, worse than that, your Eight of 
 Lapse, which has wantonly and in disregard of your 
 own plighted faith overturned our law of inheritance, 
 and forfeited, for no fault, with no shadow of right, 
 thrones and dominions guaranteed by most solemn 
 treaties and held by those who have served you 
 loyally since they first accepted your alliance. We 
 can never forget Sattara." 
 
 "You know," Darcy replied, "how heartily many 
 of our best and most experienced statesmen hated 
 and opposed that policy. No epithet you have now 
 applied to it but would be repeated by men like Henry 
 Lawrence ; and their school, turning the lesson of 
 this year to account, will henceforward direct the 
 policy of our Government ; whereas those who now 
 draw swords against us, leagued with mutineers and 
 assassins, can look for no fate but extermination." 
 
 The Eajah listened carefully with profound atten- 
 tion, and remained silent for some minutes in deep 
 and anxious thought. 
 
 "You overlook another consideration," he said at 
 last. "Against the Company, I can command the 
 passionate, devoted adherence of every subject of my 
 own who can draw a sword, the support of nearly 
 every neighbouring prince. Siding with the Com- 
 pany, I can hardly depend on the fidelity of any 
 but my own hahalogue, and may look to be besieged 
 in my own fortress by my own countrymen." 
 
 " And to have that siege recorded in the annals of
 
 104 EKE ANT. 
 
 India as one of the noblest services rendered by a 
 Native to the British Government, and rewarded by 
 whatever honours that Government can bestow." 
 
 " It is well for your people," said the Eajah at 
 length, ''that you and no other English officer com- 
 manded at the Eesidency and surrendered to me. 
 Well, too, perhaps, that Mr. Kavanagh was your 
 Kesident, and that he was murdered without my 
 knowledge and against my will. Of all you have 
 said, nothing affects me so deeply as the intolerable 
 shame of siding with the murderers of one to whom 
 my protection had been promised ; and next to that, 
 nothing moves me so much as the thought that in 
 taking part against the Government I must wrong 
 and injure yourself. I have not forgotten your 
 courtesy, any more than I forget the insolence of 
 those ill-bred boys who fancy that every British 
 Ensign or Joint Collector is the superior of men 
 whose fathers were great princes while his were 
 slaves or pariahs. In any case, you and your men 
 shall go free ; your horses and your arms shall be 
 returned to you. But to send you forth, even by 
 night and in secret, would be to send you to slaughter. 
 Long before you could cross half the country between 
 here and Sivapore, your little party would be sur- 
 rounded and cut to pieces." 
 
 ''"We must take our chance of that," said Darcy ; 
 *' but it is not our fate that matters. The ladies for 
 whom your word is pledged must be conveyed safely 
 to an English station, and one where they will not 
 forthwith fall into worse hands than yours." 
 
 "I doubt," answered the Indian, "whether that
 
 v^ viCTis! 105 
 
 would be within my power, even if I could attempt 
 it without exciting the distrust and suspicion of my 
 neighbours, without appearing openly to side with 
 you ; and if I stand by the Government, I can do 
 no more than hold my own here. In any case, the 
 women are safer here than anywhere whither I can 
 send them. Bid them trust me. Lieutenant Darcy; 
 and, if you can believe the word of a Native, accept 
 my promise that none shall lift their veils while a 
 gun is mounted on my walls or I can hold a sword." 
 
 " Will your Highness permit me to see and speak 
 to them ? " 
 
 '* Certainly," the Kajah rej)lied. "I will take you 
 where they shall come to you ; and when you leave 
 i;hem you will find me here again with the Count."* 
 
 Following him, Darcy traversed a passage, ap- 
 parently excavated in the outer wall of the fortress, 
 and reached a chamber more commodious than that 
 he had left, but furnished exclusively in Indian 
 fashion, with carpets and cushions. The Kajah 
 retired, and in a few minutes the ladies were ushered 
 into the room by a slave of the zenana, while others 
 brought in a meal prepared after the Indian fashion, 
 the chief dish being chicken covered with rice and 
 flavoured with the Native spices, of which our curry is 
 an imitation. Some little pains had been taken to 
 adapt both the refreshments themselves and the 
 means of eating to European customs. Placing their 
 trays on the ground, the slaves retired. The mother 
 had scarcely yet roused herself to active interest in 
 her new and alarming situation ; her younger daughter 
 was bewildered, partly by terror and partly by the
 
 106 EKKANT. 
 
 infection of her mother's helpless distress. The elder, 
 though very pale, and her eyes manifestly swollen hy 
 weeping, was calm and keenly alive to all that passed. 
 She had tact enough to use few words and little 
 urgency in inducing her mother to eat, treating almost 
 as matter of course what it was nevertheless most 
 difficult to accomplish. When she had persuaded 
 both her companions half-consciously to taste the 
 food before them, she gave her attention to the 
 graver necessities of the situation ; and rather by 
 manner than in actual words expressed her wish to 
 hear what Darcy had to report or to advise. 
 
 '' What," asked the latter, " was your father's 
 estimate of the Eajah ? " 
 
 ''Of course," she answered, "I know very little. 
 We had only been here a few weeks, and he did not 
 talk much on public matters in our presence. But I 
 think he liked and trusted the Eajah, at least in some 
 measure, as a very favourable example of an Indian 
 Prince ; though he spoke as if the ambition and active 
 spirit that could find no career in the Company's 
 service or under our rule might at a critical moment 
 render him dangerous. I know, too, that early this 
 morning he sent a message to this place, and that 
 when the attack was first threatened, his only hope 
 was in the Eajah's interference. But surely it was 
 as an enemy that the Eajah came, and it was as 
 prisoners that he brought us here ? " 
 
 *' That proves nothing. It might have been difficult 
 for him to have beaten oif our assailants by the 
 sword, even could he have trusted at once and on the 
 moment the fidelity of his own men if suddenly called
 
 v^ viCTis! 107 
 
 upon to attack their kinsmen and fellow-subjects. 
 And had he brought us here as friends, the fortress 
 would have been in all probability besieged before 
 now. To tell you the truth, Miss Kavanagh, I see no 
 other hope than in his loyalty, if not to the Govern- 
 ment, at least to his own word. He has ]3ledged that 
 word solemnly and earnestly for your safety. We 
 could not, if free and clear of this place, convey you 
 securely to Sivapore with our small party ; and if we 
 could, I believe you would hardly be safer there than 
 here. I know that experienced men, whether civilians 
 or soldiers, are averse to trust to Native loyalty under 
 strong temptation, and I think it quite possible that 
 the Kajah may decide to join the rebellion which has 
 broken or will very soon break out all over tliis.part 
 of India. But even in that case, I think you will be 
 safe with him ; and if not, I know no other chance of 
 safety." 
 
 ''Except," she answered, calmly, but growing still 
 paler as she spoke, " that which you have given me." 
 
 "Eemember," said Darcy, eagerly, "that that is 
 only to be used in the last extremity and at the very 
 last moment. Even when all rational hope is gone, 
 it is not time for so desperate a resort ; because in a 
 single instant that will place you beyond their power. 
 How have you been treated? Have you seen the 
 ladies of the Eajah's household? " 
 
 " Yes ; and the two or three we saw seemed kindly, 
 and anxious to show us courtesy and consideration, 
 but shy and of course hardly able to convey their 
 meaning to my mother in her distress, or even to me. 
 We hardly know a word of their language, and can 
 only judge their feeling by signs and looks."
 
 108 ERRANT. 
 
 " Those are of some moment," lie replied, " because, 
 beyond mere womanly feeling for a woman in sorrow, 
 their conduct will be regulated by what they know or 
 guess of their master's feelings and wishes." 
 
 He turned to the widow, endeavouring to explain 
 the situation and elicit from her some expression of 
 opinion, some sign that at least she understood and 
 appreciated his reasonings. But beyond a dull atten- 
 tion to his words, and a tacit assent to his advice, she 
 seemed still incapable of thought or decision. 
 
 "After all," said her daughter, ''we must abide by 
 your counsel, since we know nothing ourselves and 
 have no other adviser. But I do trust you will in no 
 ease leave us here alone." 
 
 ''I may have to do so," Darcy replied, "and 
 possibly without oj)portunity of seeing you again ; 
 but I will endeavour in that case that Von Arnheim, 
 the German who joined us in our attempt to defend 
 the Kesidency, and who is with me here, shall remain 
 and, if possible, have access to you. If not, it will be 
 plain that the Eajah is inclining to become our 
 enemy ; but, as I have said, even in that case I hope 
 that you are safe." 
 
 A signal at the door interrupted him, and a slave 
 entering intimated that his master desired the sahib's 
 presence. 
 
 " Good-bye, then, for the present," he said. " Don't 
 fear without fresh and strong reason, and don't 
 despair at the worst." 
 
 "Not for ourselves," said the girl, "till the last; 
 but for you, who have fallen into this peril simply for 
 our sakes ? "
 
 v^ viOTis ! 109 
 
 ^'I have merely done a soldier's duty, and must 
 take the chances of a soldier's life." 
 
 ** God guard you," she answered, earnestly. " We 
 can pray for you, if we can do no more. And if we 
 do not meet again, believe that we shall not forget 
 either you or those who with you were so ready to 
 give their lives for my father and for us." 
 
 "Mr. Darcy," said the Kajah, "I have sent out 
 men in all directions to learn what is going on. 
 They have in two cases made prisoners whose names 
 may interest you. They have brought in an Eurasian 
 girl and a Native lady, the widow, they say, of a 
 British officer, a Captain Manton ; and a Native, 
 who has been a British soldier, but says he is now 
 your servant. I hardly believed him, for he is not*of a 
 caste that ever seeks such employment." 
 
 " I know well the ladies your Highness mentions. 
 The mother is a descendant of the last Kajah of 
 Bundaghar, and for his sake and that of her house I 
 know that she and her daughter will be safe in your 
 hands. They too will be glad to hear that I am 
 living, and so near them ; perhaps you may allow me 
 to see them at another time. My servant was once a 
 soldier in the battalion now at Sivapore, and is by 
 birth and lineage an Arab warrior, claiming descent 
 from the Koreish, though his family have been for 
 two centuries settled in India." 
 
 "Then he told the truth," said the Eajah, as, 
 
 clapping his hands, he called attendants remaining 
 
 , outside the door. "Bid them bring hither the prisoner 
 
 taken on his way to the Eesidency. Mr. Darcy, you 
 
 will like to hear his tidings in jDrivate ? "
 
 110 EKKANT. 
 
 *' No, Eajah," answered Darcy, who had made up 
 his mind, hastily but of dehberate purpose, to display 
 full and unreserved confidence in his host ; and 
 recognized the uselessness of attempting to conceal 
 any important tidings, which must in a very short 
 time be as well known to all around him as to himself. 
 " Hear all there is to tell, and judge with as full a 
 knowledge of the facts as my own." 
 
 Deprived of his arms but otherwise unhurt, and 
 treated in no hostile manner by his captors, Afzul was 
 ushered into the room. 
 
 " Speak out," said his master ; "let the Eajah as 
 well as ourselves know what you have to say." 
 
 " Sahib," was the reply, " Sivapore is lost to the 
 British. Both the Native regiments have mutinied, 
 and your squadron is scattered if not destroyed." 
 
 " How ? " said Darcy. " What has happened since 
 Heft?" 
 
 a rjij^Q report, sahib, went through all the lines that 
 your party was sent to bring down a regiment of 
 British cavalry and a battery of artillery." 
 
 " From whence ? " asked Darcy in surprise. 
 
 "I asked them that question," replied Afzul, "when 
 they talked to me. Nobody knew, and each man 
 named a different place. I told them there was 
 neither cavalry nor artillery at any of the stations 
 they named, and if there had it could not have been 
 spared. But the Infantry were too much frightened 
 to listen to reason, and the Mahometan troopers had 
 made up their minds to rise as soon as the Infantry 
 would go with them. Major Thomson heard the 
 story, and paraded the regiment the afternoon after
 
 V^ VICTIS! Ill 
 
 you left. He ordered cartridges to be served out as 
 usual. I need not tell you they were the old cartridges 
 that had been in store for more than a year. But the 
 men would not believe it ; they are mad on the 
 subject, and it is useless reasoning with them. They 
 refused to take them, and one of the soubahdars asked 
 the Major if the Europeans were coming. He did 
 not answer, and the men were sure that it was true. 
 Then he told them : * In presence of British troops 
 you know you must obey. You had better obey at 
 once, or you will repent it.' Then the ranks broke, 
 and the men began to threaten and point their 
 muskets. The officers wanted to go among their men, 
 and Captain Everett in particular wished to form his 
 company, in which there are so many Sikhs, apart ; 
 but the Major would not hear of it. He said they 
 would all be murdered, and he sent for the Lancer 
 squadron." 
 
 " Madman ! " said Darcy to himself. 
 " Then, of course, the men went mad with terror. 
 They fired and killed several of their officers ; and at 
 the sound of the firing, the Native Cavalry mounted 
 and rode through the cantonment yelling ^ Deen,' and 
 cutting down every European they met. They dashed 
 into the European cantonments before your squadron 
 could be mounted, killed many of them, and set fire to 
 the stables. Colonel Vane got some of the horses out 
 and mounted a few of his men ; but they were over- 
 powered, and I don't know what has become of the 
 rest. When I left, most of the sahibs' bungalows had 
 been robbed and burnt, and I saw several women and 
 children dead, but which I hardly know. I only know
 
 112 ERKANT. 
 
 that most of the officers of the Native Infantry and 
 Cavalry were shot or stabbed, and the Brigadier was 
 shot down as he galloped to the Native lines to try 
 and steady the Infantry, when he heard what Major 
 Thomson had been doing." 
 
 '' Now, Eajah," said Darcy, after dismissing his 
 servant, '' your Highness must make your election 
 promptly. This is only what we knew would happen 
 within a few days, and what will happen in nearly 
 every station of the Bengal Army. But I will not be 
 detained longer except as a prisoner ; and detaining 
 me, your Highness declares against the Government. 
 I must march before daybreak and attempt to find 
 out what has become of the remains of the squadron 
 of ours at Sivapore, and whether any women and 
 children are alive who can be saved — unless I am con- 
 strained by force as a prisoner of war." 
 
 '* Do you forget," returned the Prince, " that I told 
 you that in no case should you be my prisoner ? But 
 your purpose is sheer madness. You could not have 
 reached Sivapore alive, before these tidings were 
 known ; now, it is tenfold more impossible." 
 
 " Whether I can act with any hope of success 
 depends on your Highness ; but act I must, if it be 
 only to die." 
 
 The Eajah looked with admiration and sympathy 
 as the young soldier spoke, standing erect, his left 
 hand instinctively seeking his sword, with firm, com- 
 pressed lips, and a suppressed fire in his eye that 
 belied the cold matter-of-fact tone. 
 
 " I had sooner," he said, " fall fighting beside such 
 a comrade than even conquer such a foe. If my own
 
 YJE VICTIS! 113 
 
 children have not turned against me, you shall take 
 with you such part of my force as you think we may 
 safely spare; and my nephew, he who carried my 
 standard at the Kesidenc}^ shall lead them under your 
 orders. I wish I could come with you ; but in my 
 absence others might fail my trust and dishonour the 
 promise I have given you." 
 
 " On no account, Eajah, must your Highness leave 
 this place. Send out and bring in all the supplies 
 you can gather, all the arms and powder you can lay 
 hands on. Don't let the people outside know, while 
 yoQ can help it, that you have decided for the Com- 
 pany. Deepen your moat, and throw up an earthen 
 bank, as high as you can, and at least twelve feet in 
 thickness at the base, against the outer wall. Yon 
 Arnheim, you will be of more use to his Highness here 
 than even to me in the field. Have you water ? " 
 
 " Yes," the Eajah answered; "b> well sunk deep from 
 the centre of the old cave-temple, which has sup- 
 plied the garrison in more than one long siege before 
 your people were ever seen within a thousand miles 
 of it." 
 
 "And can you make the caves safe as a refuge for 
 women and wounded ? For even field guns may do 
 no little mischief in the palace itself." 
 
 " Every entrance," replied the Eajah, "is at least 
 thirty feet above the ground below, and not one can 
 be reached except from the inner courts and the 
 zenana." 
 
 " They may make good batteries, if the mouths be 
 blocked with earth, fascines, or even sacks of straw 
 or cotton covered with earth, and wetted to prevent 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 114 ERRANT. 
 
 catching fire," said Darcy. *' Von Arnheim, you will 
 look to this — under his Highness's orders. Kajah, 
 let our horses he ready that my men may mount 
 hy moonrise, and have yours ready to join us. 
 But send with us none whose faith you douht ; a 
 small force we can trust thoroughly is better than 
 thrice the number with a few traitors among them. 
 Thank God," he said, turning to Yon Arnheim, as the 
 Eajah left the room, "the women are safe now ; and 
 we have a chance at least to maintain the fame and 
 honour, if not the fact, of British authority in this 
 part of the country, till we are rescued or the event is 
 decided by the sword elsewhere." 
 
 '* I doubt," said the Count, " you are acting with 
 more courage than prudence in the sally you are 
 making. It is likely to betray at once the Eaj all's 
 intention ; and if you meet any enemies at all they 
 are likely to be in irresistible number." 
 
 "We have found no numbers irresistible in India," 
 said Darcy. " A very small force of Natives, en- 
 couraged by British leadership and support, has been 
 proved over and over again to be a match for ten 
 times their number under Native leaders. I shall 
 leave a short note for Lady Helen or her daughter, 
 who is less stricken down than her mother by the 
 terror and calamities of the day. Now I will go and 
 warn my men, and then try to sleep till the time to 
 start." 
 
 Half an hour after the rising of the moon, the 
 little band of some twelve English troopers, followed 
 by eighty picked men of the Eajah's own guard under 
 the command of his young relative, moved slowly and
 
 V^ VICTIS! 115 
 
 •steadily out, filing across the drawbridge of the castle ; 
 riding silently through the streets of the Native 
 village below, and forming in regular order on the 
 plain without. After a short conversation with his 
 Native lieutenant, Darcy entrusted to him the charge 
 of the small party sent in advance, directing a couple 
 of Native troopers to some distance on each flank and 
 drawing up the Europeans in front of the main body. 
 They had ridden far at a quick but steady pace before 
 the heat of the sun obliged them to make their first 
 halt ; and when they bivouacked for the night — Eu- 
 ropeans and Natives in seeming friendship, though the 
 former hardly felt for their allies the confidence ap- 
 parently reposed in them by their officer — they were 
 sufficiently advanced to render it expedient to send out 
 patrols in quest of information and to learn whether 
 either English fugitives or rebel troops were to be 
 found within a score of miles. Half an hour before the 
 time fixed for the morning start, Darcy, sleeping with 
 his saddle for a pillow, wearied out by the hard work 
 of the last few days, so that even the anxiety of his 
 charge could not keep his eyes open for a minute 
 after his duties permitted him to rest, was wakened 
 by the touch of a hand on his shoulder, and springing 
 up saw beside him the young Kao, who made a sign 
 to him to listen in silence and speak low. 
 
 "One of our best men," he said, '^has brought 
 word that a force of mutineers is bivouacked some 
 twelve miles hence. They have no idea of our 
 approach or of the presence of any enemy within 
 fifty miles, and are therefore carelessly encamped ; 
 and if they have posted sentries these are likely to be 
 half asleep and quite off their guard."
 
 116 ERRANT. 
 
 In answer to some brief inquiries from Darcy, the 
 Native scout described with no httle military aptitude 
 the position occupied by the enemy. 
 
 They lay not far from the bank of a river on the 
 same side as the small British force, and in their 
 immediate neighbourhood was a ford passable, as 
 reported, by cavalry ; guarded, however, by a small 
 patrol. The enemy consisted of some four or five 
 hundred Native cavalry, probably a part of the force 
 which had mutinied at Sivapore. The scout thought, 
 though he was not sure, that there were among them 
 some European prisoners. 
 
 " Now, Djuna Eao," said the young officer, when 
 he had given orders to mount and prepare for the 
 march, '' I give you the full and absolute trust which 
 an English gentleman gives when he trusts at all. It 
 is of great importance to strike a blow, even though we 
 risk more than the immediate harm we may be able 
 to do seems worth. We can better afford to throw 
 away our own lives than to let these rebels think that 
 they are safe for a moment, or that the power of the 
 British is paralyzed by fear or surprise. I mean to 
 attack the camp, and to strike just before daybreak.. 
 Lead your men along this bank of the river, and 
 steadily but at a quick pace, for you must cover at 
 least ten miles an hour. Halt them as near the 
 enemy as you dare in perfect silence. When you 
 hear three carbine shots fired at the ford to your left, 
 about half a mile from their camp, charge at once 
 into their midst, and let your men shout and yell as 
 much as they please. Slaughter, but don't pursue, 
 and, above all, take care to keej) your men in hand.
 
 v^ viCTis! 117 
 
 If we fail, return directly to Kulwar. If we succeed, 
 he sure that the Company will not forget you." 
 
 The Native signified his acceptance of the charge, 
 and the party separated, Darcy and his troopers, with 
 a, guide selected from among their Native comrades, 
 fording the river about a mile to the left of their line 
 of march, and moving at a walk for more than an 
 hour along its opposite bank in order to screen their 
 approach from the enemy's possible patrols or spies 
 in his interest. As they approached the indicated 
 ford they moved away from the bank and formed 
 fronting the river, about two hundred yards off ; where, 
 the dawn scarcely yet visible on the eastern horizon, 
 they were safe from observation unless an enemy 
 should be lurking in their immediate neighbourhood. 
 Darcy with two troopers rode down towards the ford, 
 halting at such a distance that the tramp of their 
 horses could not be heard on the soft ground, and 
 stealing down to the bank. The rest of the party had 
 orders to rejoin their chief at a gallop, cross the ford, 
 and make for the enemy's position, at the same signal 
 that had been promised their Native ally : the dis- 
 charge of three carbines. Hidden by the reeds 
 immediately at the water's edge, Darcy scanned care- 
 fully and anxiously the opposite bank ; and it was not 
 long before he discerned the forms of two Native 
 troopers in British uniform, mounted, but letting 
 their horses graze, and sitting carelessly, as ill-dis- 
 ciplined sentries who felt assured that no peril was 
 within a day's march, and were not apprehensive of 
 a sudden visit from their superiors to keep them on 
 the alert.
 
 118 ERE ANT. 
 
 "Mark the man to the right," said Darcy to James,, 
 who lay beside him, '' and don't miss. You " — to his 
 other comrade — '' take the fellow on the left." He 
 had himself taken a spare carbine, and prepared to 
 fire in case either of his companions should fail. 
 
 One shot, another, and both the rebel troopers felL 
 Their horses started off in terror, and Darcy, firing 
 his own piece, ran back to remount. Before he had 
 done so his party galloped past, and he and his 
 attendants caught them up but a hundred yards on 
 the other side, the Native encampment now lying full 
 in view. The horses were picketed, the men sleeping, 
 their heads pillowed on their saddles, their arms piled 
 as in perfect peace and security. Sentries had been 
 posted, but with so little judgment or care that they 
 offered no obstacle to the charge. The shots had 
 half aroused a few of the sleepers but had not alarmed 
 the camp ; and they were perfectly helpless as from 
 one side the small party of English Lancers, from the 
 other the Eaj all's retainers, armed with their sharp 
 curved swords, dashed into their midst, guided by the 
 faint twilight of the East. The mutineers made no 
 attempt to fight, and hampered and overthrew one 
 another in their efforts to escape. The assailants 
 slaughtered twice their own number on the spot, 
 pursued and cut down several of the fugitives, and 
 would have scattered in chase but for the imperious 
 recal sounded by a Native bugler under Darcy's 
 orders, and the energetic efforts of the young Eao to 
 rally his own men. A dozen wounded prisoners were 
 taken, and to these Darcy put a few sharp brief 
 inquiries, questioning each separately in presence of
 
 V^ VICTIS! 119 
 
 his own corporal and of the Native leader. That the 
 station of Sivapore had been completely sacked, that 
 most if not all the European officers of the insurgent 
 regiments had been butchered, that the commanding 
 officer of the station had certainly fallen, that a large 
 proportion of his own comrades had been cut to pieces, 
 and that the rest had not been seen at any time 
 during the two or three hours of confusion and pillage 
 that elapsed before the Native cavalry left, and there- 
 fore were probably dispersed, was clearly ascertained. 
 It was less certain, because the temptation to lie was 
 common and the motive obvious to all the witnesses, 
 that no mutineers were now left in the station ; that 
 it was in the hands of the worst portion of its large 
 population of camp followers and of the bad characters 
 of every sort that infest a military station. Some 
 European women and children might be in their power 
 alive ; and if rescue were impossible, vengeance was 
 not merely desirable, but was under the circumstances 
 a distinct obligation of military duty and policy. 
 The fugitive mutineers whom Darcy had dispersed 
 were without their horses, and for the most part 
 without arms. The best of their animals, as fresher 
 than his own, Darcy selected to remount several 
 of his European and Native followers. The only 
 captives found in the camp were the wife of a 
 European sergeant with two little girls. The latter 
 were half clothed in rags, their skins stained, appa- 
 rently in a hasty attempt to pass them as Natives or 
 Eurasians, and soiled with dirt ; but a single glance 
 assured an eye like Darcy' s that they did not belong 
 to the woman in whose com^Dany they were found.
 
 120 EKEANT. 
 
 ** Whose are these children ? " he said to her. 
 
 " I don't know," replied the scared and half-idiotic 
 creature, maddened by the horrors through which 
 she had passed. But the elder girl, some eight years 
 old, recognizing the voice of a countryman, answered 
 for herself. 
 
 "I am Minnie Thomson," she said, *'and this is 
 Fanny. They burnt our house the other day, and 
 we were at the General's ; and then they came there 
 and beat the servants and killed Johnny, and the 
 ayah dragged us out and rubbed some nasty stuff 
 over us ; but the Sowars snatched us from her and 
 knocked her down." 
 
 Again and again, without being recognized, Darcy 
 had rescued from death the infant daughters of his 
 enemy. However heartily he might wish that they 
 had been the children of any other man, he could 
 neither rejoice the less in their escape, nor soothe 
 the less tenderly their natural terror. He placed the 
 woman on a spare horse, entrusted the younger child 
 to a trooper, and took the elder on his own saddle, 
 bidding a soldier fasten round her a sash attached to 
 his belt. The Eajah's soldiery in the mean time had, 
 by his direction, shot the horses and destroyed the 
 arms it w^as impossible to carry away. The little 
 one, v/ho had been too frightened to protest against 
 the arrangement, though manifestly scared at finding 
 herself in a stranger's charge, " on a tall soldier's 
 horse," looked up into Darcy' s face, and gaining 
 courage from its expression, said — 
 
 " We are so hungry. They gave us nothing to eat 
 all this way, and no milk."
 
 V^ VICTIS! 121 
 
 " Can you eat this ? " said Darcy, taking from liis 
 haversack some of the food with which he, hke 
 his men, had been hastily furnished before leaving 
 Kulwar. 
 
 ''It is not nice," said the child, tasting it, "but 
 we are so hungry. Give Fanny some ; and do get 
 us some milk." 
 
 A Native soldier, who had heard the child's words 
 without understanding them, but saw her effort to 
 eat the dry provisions, dismounted, and finding 
 among the debris of the camp a tin flask filled with 
 lukewarm water, handed it up to her. The prisoners 
 looked on, a kindly expression visible in more than 
 one face among those who were collectively if not 
 individually, morally if not actually, accomplices in 
 the butchery of many such helpless innocents. Darcy 
 caught the expression, and turning to them — 
 
 ''You know," he said, "what you have deserved. 
 You have betrayed the salt you have eaten ; you have 
 slaughtered your officers in cold blood ; you have 
 murdered, some of you, women and children like 
 these. If I order you to be hung to the nearest trees 
 I only do my duty. If I shoot you I give you a better 
 death than you deserve. Thank your gods that I 
 and those with me have not seen your work yet, or 
 you would hardly pass alive. For your wounds you 
 must care as you can ; and remember, if you fall 
 again into my hands or into those of any other 
 British officer, the gallows is the best you can 
 expect." 
 
 Surprised by a mercy they certainly had not de- 
 served, and which was perhaps never again shown
 
 122 ERKANT. 
 
 till the mutiny was quelled, the wretches salaamed 
 with profound reverence. 
 
 ''Sahib," said one of them, ''you meant to take 
 our caste from us. It was only just that we should 
 take your lives. You say we were traitors to our 
 salt ; you, or at least the other sahibs, were traitors 
 to their men. You say we murdered them by sur- 
 j)rise ; they would have taken from us by a trick what 
 we valued more than life." 
 
 The spokesman was a Hindoo. Darcy turned from 
 him indignantly to the Mahometan comrades, whose 
 looks had approved his words. 
 
 " You cannot talk of caste," he said. " You have 
 been false to the law of your own Prophet as to that 
 which when you entered our service you swore to 
 obey. Begone ; it is not justice that leaves you the 
 lives you have forfeited." 
 
 At sunrise the next morning, Darcy with his mixed 
 band entered the ruined station of Sivapore. On the 
 way he had been joined by more than a dozen of 
 the dispersed Lancers of the 36th; but none could 
 inform him what had been the fate of their officers 
 or their comrades. Hastily mounting, they had been 
 attacked, many of them slaughtered, and the rest 
 scattered in every direction before they could form 
 for resistance. Bitter and savage was their temper 
 as they looked upon the ruins, often still smoking, 
 not only of their own huts, but of the pleasant homes 
 of the officers and civilians of the station. Not one of 
 these had been spared; and in almost every Native 
 house that was entered some part of their spoils was 
 to be found. It was with no little difficulty that their
 
 V^ YICTIS ! 12S 
 
 officer restrained their eagerness to avenge by indis- 
 criminate sack and slaughter the crimes of which their 
 countrywomen and their comrades had been the help- 
 less victims. The more discriminating but still some- 
 what dubious justice that was done, where no witness 
 could be trusted, and character rather than actual 
 proof of complicity in particular crimes controlled the 
 selection of examples, it would be almost as painful 
 to describe or to read as it was to Darcy to execute. 
 It was a pleasanter task to reward two Natives, old 
 soldiers of the Company, in whose homes, disguised 
 by colour and Native clothes, and hidden in the 
 recesses of the women's rooms, three or four English 
 children were found. It seemed that no grown woman, 
 no English official, judge, or priest, had escaped the 
 indiscriminate butchery. But the bodies found, 
 identified, and buried by Native hands — many per- 
 haps concerned in their murder — under the urgent 
 and severe insistance of the English troopers, only 
 represented some two-thirds of the entire number; 
 and Darcy might hope, as may the reader, that of the 
 rest more had escaped than had been burnt in the 
 ruins of their houses, carried off as captives for a 
 more deliberate and more cruel fate, or butchered at 
 some little distance, and left to the jackals and carrion 
 birds.
 
 124 EERANT. 
 
 CHAPTEK VIII. 
 
 THE SPRING OF THE TIGER. 
 
 " Day by day tlie Indian tiger 
 
 Louder yelled and closer crept, 
 Day by day the jungle serpent 
 Near and nearer circles swept." 
 
 KuLWAR, held in the name of the Company, might 
 form a central point of refuge for European fugitives 
 from a score of minor civil stations around it ; while, 
 if his retainers remained faithful to the Eajah, it 
 might be maintained against a siege by any but a 
 strong force of disciplined soldiers. To return thither 
 at once was therefore Darcy's main purpose. Such 
 of the children as could keep their seats were mounted 
 on ponies, each led by a Native horseman. About 
 thirty European troopers formed the advance and 
 rear guard. Two or three children too young to sit 
 even the quiet little animals chosen for them, were 
 carried on the saddles of the best-mounted riders, 
 and Darcy himself took charge of his enemy's younger 
 child. Almost within sight of a considerable village 
 on their route, he suddenly halted. 
 
 " I will have those cows ! We'll have milk for you, 
 little one, at any rate. Djuna Eao, take forty of
 
 THE SPEING OF THE TIGER. 125- 
 
 your best men, drive off the cattle, and escort the 
 children to Kulwar. We will cover your movements 
 if we have to fight for it." 
 
 " No, sahib," answered the young Indian. " If you 
 are going to fight I shall be beside you." 
 
 "You will make a soldier by-and-by," Darcy an- 
 swered ; *' but you have yet to learn a soldier's first 
 duty. The Eajah placed you under my orders, and 
 you must obey." 
 
 " You would not blacken my face before him for the 
 rest of my life ? I dare not return to him and say 
 that I have left you I don't know where." 
 
 Turning to an elderly officer of the Eajah's force, 
 who wore an English medal earned on the terrible 
 battle-fields of the Punjaub, Darcy repeated to him 
 the order he had given ; and, drawing off forty of his 
 comrades, the veteran prepared to obey. Darcy 
 arranged the children's ponies in the midst of tha 
 escort, and, dismounting, lifted his own charge from 
 the saddle. 
 
 *' I must give you to tliis man now," he said, about 
 to raise her to the saddle of a Native horseman. 
 *' You won't be frightened; and give me a kiss, little 
 one." 
 
 The child shrank back. ''I am not frightened to 
 leave you ; you look so ugly, with your face all over 
 dirty blotches, and no eyebrows and eyelashes." 
 
 "For shame, Fanny!" cried her little sister. 
 "Very likely they were burnt, like your hair. He 
 looks like the gentleman who carried us out of our 
 room ; and he had a dress like that. Was it you,, 
 sir? " she asked, looking up into his face.
 
 126 ERRANT. 
 
 "Good-bye, child," said Darcy, stooping to kiss 
 her. " You will be safe under a roof to-night — to- 
 morrow at latest. Good-bye." 
 
 The detachment moved off, half of them escorting 
 the children in the rear, half preparing to drive off the 
 cattle that grazed some two miles to the right, while 
 the village lay somewhat further to the left front of 
 the main body, which Darcy now rejoined. The men 
 were drawn up in two lines, the Europeans in front, 
 where a swell in the ground hid them from the village 
 they were approaching. It had been ascertained that 
 a Moslem fanatic had been preaching a jehad or Holy 
 War against the English throughout the district ; and 
 the turbulent population of this neighbourhood were 
 almost certain to give trouble, and, if not taken by 
 surprise, to offer desperate resistance to the passage 
 of so small a force. Beaching the ridge himself, Darcy 
 reconnoitred the scene in front through his glass. 
 
 "I thought so," he murmured; then, riding back, 
 *'Men," he said, "there are, I suppose, some five 
 hundred armed Natives in our front, half of whom are 
 mounted. We have but one thing to do. We must 
 charge and cut through them. Kemember, each one 
 of you, you must conquer or die. Hold together; 
 those who are cut off cannot be rescued. James, you 
 will command the Lancers if I fall. Eemember, on 
 no account turn back ! Djuna Kao, wheel to the right 
 and break their infantry. Cut through, and on no con- 
 sideration, whatever happens, halt or return. Follow 
 up the party in charge of the cattle and children. If 
 we get through, we shall do the same." 
 
 Wheeling into a single line as he had commanded,
 
 THE SPRING OF THE TIGER. 127 
 
 the party surmounted the ridge, and saw the enemy 
 directly in their front a mile and a half away. They 
 trotted forward steadily till within a couple of fur- 
 longs ; then, drawing his sword for the first time with 
 his still painful right arm, the young officer turned 
 for a moment to his men. 
 
 *'Hold together! steady; no prisoners, and no 
 pursuit. Take care you don't allow your pace to be 
 checked by their fire. Follow me steadily without 
 nearing me, and keep your dressing. James, if you 
 reach Kulwar, remember that the Kajah commands 
 there while he holds it for the Government. Now, — 
 for God, for our women, and for the Queen ! — 
 Charge ! " 
 
 The Natives, who had anticipated the attack, held 
 together more steadily than might have been expected. 
 The fire of the infantry checked for a moment the 
 advance of the Eajah's horsemen, and threw them 
 behind their English comrades, who, unshaken by the 
 hasty fire of the irregular cavalry before them, dashed 
 on, following their leader as he rode straight at the 
 centre of the enemy's line, trusting to break it by the 
 force of the collision, which for want of skill or of 
 discipline the Natives waited to receive. Halted 
 cavalry seldom resists such a charge. The Lancers 
 broke through the wavering line, scattering in every 
 direction those in their front. But they were of course 
 enormously outflanked on either side, and of those 
 who had been untouched by the charge many turned 
 upon assailants disordered and broken by the force of 
 their own attack. Darcy, who had ridden directly 
 against a small group that, in the centre of their line,
 
 128 EERANT. 
 
 stood firmly while all around them gave way or were 
 hurled to the ground, was checked and almost over- 
 thrown by the shock ; and in another moment found 
 himself behind his men, Afzul and a trooper alone 
 beside him, engaged with half a score of Natives, chief 
 among whom was the fanatic of whom he had heard so 
 much during the last few eventful days. His light 
 helmet cloven at a single stroke, saved only by the 
 epaulette from a cut which would have severed his 
 arm from the shoulder, it was all he could achieve to 
 make his sword guard his life even for a few moments, 
 and to die as became a British soldier, dealing death 
 among his opponents. Three or four of these had 
 fallen ; but the trooper on his right had dropped from 
 the saddle, his neck half severed by the razor edge of 
 a Native sword ; and Afzul, engaged with three oppo- 
 nents at once, was unable to render any aid to his 
 master. The powerful arm of the Mussulman, which 
 had already inflicted one wound, was raised to cleave 
 the unprotected head, while Darcy's sword was fully 
 occupied in parrying the blows rained at him from 
 the left by an almost equally formidable adversary ; 
 and the enemy on the flanks, wheeling round on the 
 rear, were almost within range of spear and sword — 
 when a fierce shout in front diverted for a moment the 
 attention of those whose backs were turned to the 
 direction from which it came. Availing himself on 
 the instant of the advantage thus given, Darcy with a 
 back stroke disabled the sword-arm of his chief 
 adversary, and, aiming the point directly at the face 
 of the other, hurled him wounded and blinded from 
 his saddle. At the next moment his troopers, charging
 
 THE SPKING OF THE TIGER. 129 
 
 back, in equal disregard of his command and their own 
 lives, to his assistance, broke and dispersed the mob 
 of horsemen around him ; and so cleared the space in 
 the middle of the field, that they were able partially 
 to form and ride off with their rescued leader before 
 the enemy could rally. The havoc inflicted on the 
 one wing by the English Lancers, on the other by the 
 scarcely less desperate charge of the Kajah's retainers, 
 had left them no courage to pursue. When the 
 English band drew bridle half a mile from the scene 
 of conflict, Darcy looked around for Afzul. This 
 veteran warrior, a little in the rear, dragged by the 
 bridle at full gallop a mounted prisoner, in whom, as 
 they came up, his master recognized the leader of the 
 enemy, the fanatic whose preaching had gatheifed 
 and whose example had encouraged the force with so 
 much difficulty defeated. 
 
 " I wish you had not taken him, Afzul," said Darcy, 
 in English. "I am afraid we have now no choice. 
 Dismount," he said to the prisoner ; who obeyed with 
 all the calm fortitude of an Asiatic, knowing that 
 resistance is hopeless and his fate independent of his 
 own will, and all the stern resignation of a Moslem 
 warrior, believing that the blood of the infidel ensures 
 his own easy and immediate passage to Paradise. 
 
 "Abdallah Khan," said Darcy to the captive, 
 whom he knew well by name and repute, "you know, 
 if I had fallen into your hands, what my fate would 
 have been. You have fought like a man, and it is not 
 because you would have butchered us in cold blood 
 that we should follow a bad example. But you are 
 not only a rebel, you have been the preacher and 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 130 ERRANT. 
 
 prompter of rebellion ; you have brought hundreds of 
 men to aid in mutiny and massacre ; and but two 
 days ago I had the painful duty of hanging more than 
 twenty wretches who, but for you and such as you, 
 would never have murdered women and children, or 
 burnt and plundered our dwellings. You know as 
 well as I that in a war like this there can be no 
 making of prisoners on either side. To let you go 
 would be treason to my Government, and cruelty to 
 those whom you would lead into crime and terrible 
 punishment. Make your peace with God in five 
 minutes. Dismount, half a dozen of you. Unsling 
 carbines." 
 
 "Sahib," replied the Mussulman, sternly, *'you 
 are right. You cannot afford to let me go. I should 
 have sent you to Hell ; you send me to Paradise ; and 
 it is not for me to complain. The infidel blood I have 
 shed makes my peace. Fire at once ; you will send 
 me to glory and to happiness." 
 
 " I hope so," said Darcy, sadly. " Kneel or stand 
 as you will," as the fanatic, wounded as he was, drew 
 himself sternly up, facing the carbines levelled at six 
 paces distance. "Make ready. Present." His 
 voice wavered so that the last word was hardly 
 audible. It was obeyed, however, and the prisoner, 
 springing into the air, fell dead at once, pierced 
 through heart and brain. 
 
 " This is hateful work," thought Darcy, as he 
 resumed his place at the head of his men, " and this 
 is the sort of war we shall have for a year to come. 
 One can scarcely wish to live to share much more 
 of it."
 
 THE SPEING OF THE TIGEK. 131 
 
 A few miles from Kulwar the force passed within 
 sight of a mango grove, and Darcy again halted them. 
 
 *'We may have thirst and fever yonder," he said to 
 James, who rode next to him. '' I will have as many 
 of yonder fruits as all our horses can carry." 
 
 Thus laden, the party somewhat later drew up in 
 front of the fortress, where already a thick rampart 
 of earth was being raised to strengthen the outer 
 wall. Embrasures had been pierced at its summit, 
 and carefully guarded with fascines and bags of earth 
 to protect the gunners from musket fire, and from the 
 splinters of stone sure to be scattered around if even 
 small guns should be brought to bear. The gates 
 were thrown open and they entered, the Kajah him- 
 self standing in the courtyard to greet their return. 
 
 "I thank your Highness heartily," said Darcy, 
 " for the service your men have rendered. I promise 
 you that both your fidelity and the gallantry and 
 conduct of your nephew shall be fully reported to 
 Government, if I Kve; and if not, you shall have 
 under my hand an account of all that has been done, 
 to present to the authorities when British rule is 
 restored." 
 
 " I am glad," said the Eajah, "that the young man 
 has done his duty. And now, when you have rested 
 and taken food, will you go round our works and see 
 whether you approve what, under your friend's direc- 
 tions, we have done ? My people without have been 
 induced to work hard at the rampart ; but when they 
 see your colours on the wall there is scarcely one 
 outside the fortress on whom we can depend." 
 
 "We ought," replied Darcy, "to burn the village.
 
 132 EREANT. 
 
 The houses would afford cover to a hostile force that 
 might cost us dear." 
 
 " As you will ; but it will turn all my subjects 
 against me, that I burn their homes while they are 
 loyal to me,- to please an officer of the British 
 Government." 
 
 "Well, we shall probably have notice in time to da 
 it before we are attacked ; and, after all, your cannon 
 will command them. But, Eajah, we cannot afford 
 to lose lives needlessly. As to the colours, hoist your 
 own flag on the highest point of the palace. We can- 
 not, as you know, hoist either the Company's or the 
 Qaeen's below it ; but, with your permission, I will 
 take command on this side, and when attacked we will 
 fix the Queen's flag where her soldiers are stationed." 
 
 The Eaj all's face showed no little gratification at 
 this deference to the pride and punctilious feeling of 
 a Native Chief. Perhaps, by this mark of soldierly 
 respect and consideration, Darcy did more to reconcile 
 him to the cause to which he had agreed to adhere, 
 and to win his personal attachment, than by all the 
 promises of reward and honour he could have 
 lavished. 
 
 It was no part of the young soldier's purpose to 
 remain shut up in the fortress until absolutely driven 
 in by superior force. For the next fortnight he was 
 constantly in the saddle, with his English troopers 
 and a more or less numerous body of the Eajah's 
 horsemen, scouring the country, dispersing tumultuous 
 levies, rescuing quiet villages from plunderers, assert- 
 ing and enforcing the British authority over a range 
 of more than thirty miles, and bringing in provisions
 
 THE SPEING OF THE TIGEE. 133 
 
 and ammunition wherever they might be found. A 
 careful inspection of the fortifications in company 
 with Von Arnheim had satisfied him that the place 
 was on three sides almost unassailable, on the fourth 
 capable of defence against any attack that there was 
 present reason to apprehend. But even field guns 
 might so batter the wall as to render the earth- 
 rampart and its backing of stone the only defence on 
 that side, while the upper part of the building, 
 knocked in and shattered by balls, would be the chief 
 source of danger to the defenders. In the caves 
 below only could safety be found for women, children, 
 and wounded men. These would be proof even 
 against shell fire, which would destroy very speedily 
 the remainder of a fortress built before artillery .had 
 become a formidable arm in Indian sieges. 
 
 Eeturning from one of these expeditions, after a 
 brief interview with the Eajah, Darcy sought the 
 room at the entrance of the zenana assigned to the 
 English ladies. With these Zela, at the intercession 
 of Miss Kavanagh, who had learnt from her the story 
 of her own and her mother's friendship with Darcy, 
 was then seated, though at some distance from Lady 
 Helen and her younger daughter. The elder, rather 
 perhaps from regard for her protector than from 
 personal sympathy with the young Eurasian, had 
 seated herself beside her, and drawn Zela into a 
 hesitating and broken conversation. 
 
 *' Lady Helen," said Darcy to the widow, who had 
 gradually recovered to some extent her self-possession 
 and interest in passing incidents, *' I must ask you 
 to prepare as quickly as possible to leave these rooms
 
 134 EKEANT. 
 
 and take shelter in the caves below. We are about 
 to be besieged, and besieged by a formidable force ► 
 The Nawab of Arzabad, a personal enemy of the 
 Eajah as well as a disaffected vassal of the Company, 
 has gathered all his own retainers, and all the mal- 
 contents and loose warlike portion of the population 
 for fifty miles around ; and has persuaded, they say, 
 some regiments of mutineers to join him in an 
 attack on this place. I have only one fear, and that 
 is for water. In Heaven's name employ all your 
 influence to economize as far as possible the use of 
 this among the women. We shall waste none. The 
 fruit I have gathered may serve to relieve the thirst 
 of children or of wounded men, with as little con- 
 sumption as possible of that which we cannot replace, 
 and the want of which if it should be exhausted will 
 compel us to surrender. While we can keep the cows 
 alive you will have some milk at least for the little 
 ones. And, Lady Helen, your word will carry weight. 
 If I am not alive when you are rescued, do justice 
 to the faith of the Prince to whom we owe everything, 
 and who would, had he been in time, have saved 
 your husband." 
 
 The lady shivered at the last name ; but it roused 
 her to speak, though with a manifest effort. 
 
 " I have not yet given you a word of thanks," she 
 said, ''but do not think I have seen or remembered 
 nothing. For the comfort given to him in his last 
 moments, for the lives of these children at least, may 
 the Father of the fatherless remember and reward 
 vou ! " 
 
 ''But for thirst," observed Darcy, after a pause, "we
 
 THE SPEING OF THE TIGEE. 135 
 
 have, I think, Httle to fear. Their fire may knock 
 the buildings to pieces and make a terrible noise ; 
 but remember that the noise means nothing. The 
 caves are perfectly safe. Good-bye, then, for the 
 present." 
 
 Miss Kavanagh put out her hand to stop him as 
 he was turning from the room. 
 
 " You can hold out ? " 
 
 ** While the water holds out," Darcy answered, 
 strangely moved by the light touch of the fingers 
 laid upon his own. " Zela, don't make me ashamed 
 of you by screaming when the firing begins. They 
 may go on for a month, but they cannot by any 
 possibility reach you in the caves." 
 
 ''But you?" cried Zela, eagerly. *' They will be 
 shooting at you, and if they knock down the buildings 
 they will crush you." 
 
 "1 hope not," said Darcy, quietly. *'But if they 
 do " — and, holding her hand, he drew her apart — "if 
 they do, remember you are an English and a Christian 
 girl. Don't let me have worked for nothing this last 
 year." 
 
 She would not release the hand he would have 
 withdrawn from her clasp. " I will remember," she 
 answered almost in a whisper. " But let me know 
 that you are safe. When for a whole day I do not 
 hear of you I shall think you are ..." She could 
 not speak the word. 
 
 "You must try not to think, my child. They will 
 make a terrible noise ; but we are all under cover, 
 and not one shot in ten kills or wounds anybody. 
 But in the worst case nobody will miss me so much
 
 136 ERE ANT. 
 
 as you will. Now let me go, Zela ; I have not a 
 moment to spare." 
 
 A wild noise without, shrill, loud, tumultuous, 
 savage beyond expression-^ 
 
 " As all the fiends from Heaven that fell 
 Had pealed the banner-cry of Hell " — 
 
 startled them ; and, instantly releasing himself, Darcy 
 hurried to the wall in front, where his men, whom for 
 some time he had been carefully training to the man- 
 agement of the cannon (scarcely two of them of the 
 same calibre or fashion) stood steadily to their loaded 
 pieces with lighted matches. Above them waved a 
 small Union Jack, the regimental colours being of 
 course with the head- quarters of the Lancers. The 
 village, whose nearest houses were perhaps a hundred 
 yards from the moat, and all the ground around, was 
 occupied by a tumultuous array of armed Natives. 
 In the rear of these Darcy's eye discerned the well- 
 known uniform of Sepoy regiments : — two or three 
 squadrons of cavalry, three or four battalions of 
 infantry, and, as he feared, more than one battery 
 of artillery. The guns, however, were not to be 
 seen ; it was only by their accoutrements and uniform 
 that, in his hasty glance, he distinguished that most 
 formidable arm of the service. In front, a Native 
 Mahometan Chief, with two or three attendants, one 
 of whom carried a white scarf attached to a spear, 
 sat on horseback. 
 
 "Will you surrender?" cried the leader; "and 
 we will spare the lives of all Natives within the 
 garrison. If you refuse, we will take your fortress 
 and leave none of you alive."
 
 THE SPRING OF THE TIGER. 137 
 
 "It is for you to answer, Eajah," Darcy said to 
 the Chief, who stood beside him. 
 
 Much pleased by this fresh mark of respect, the 
 Prince showed himself above the parapet of the 
 earthen rampart. 
 
 "Dogl" he said, "and son of dogs! You and 
 yours cannot remember the history of a House like 
 mine. But there are some among your followers 
 who could tell you that none of my fathers ever 
 betrayed a guest; and if these English were my 
 enemies and not my allies, I would not give them up 
 to such as you are." 
 
 " Back out of range ! " cried Darcy, springing up ; 
 " back ! for in another minute we fire upon you." 
 
 The Nawab and his attendants turned and rode 
 back with more haste than dignity till they were 
 screened by the ranks of their followers. Then a 
 sputtering volley beat upon the walls, and a few 
 bullets entered the embrasures, but wholly without 
 effect. 
 
 "Pass the word!" said Darcy. "Are you all 
 ready with your guns ? Those trained on the houses 
 and the street ? " 
 
 "All ready." 
 
 "Fire!" 
 
 The signal meant more than was known to most 
 of those who obeyed it. The flash and crash of the 
 guns was followed in a second by the outburst of a 
 sheet of flame that seemed to reach to Heaven, and a 
 joar louder than the loudest tropical thunder-peal. 
 A few minutes passed before the cloud of thick black 
 smoke that ensued had so far rolled away as to
 
 138 EERANT. 
 
 permit the defenders to discern, where the village had 
 stood, some heaps of burning ruins, and where the 
 front of the assailants had been piles of mangled 
 corpses, and fragments of forms that had once been 
 human. Eeflection had suggested to the young officer 
 a better plan than the burning of the village or its 
 destruction by cannon ; and mines, laid at night by 
 his own men, with the knowledge only of the Eajah 
 and two or three of his most trustworthy adherents, 
 had prepared a fearful destruction for those who 
 should endeavour to avail themselves of the cover 
 afforded by the Native dwellings, from which their 
 inhabitants had been the day before expelled. The 
 tumultuary levies of the Nawab were in full flight ; 
 the mutineers stood to their arms at a distance, but 
 confused and almost panic-stricken. 
 
 " It will take some time to bring them up again,'* 
 said the Eajah, coolly. *'That was well done. Lieu- 
 tenant Darcy; well planned and well carried out. 
 Yonder dog will not bark quite so loudly next time he 
 comes within range of our fire." 
 
 "He won't come again, while we have water,"" 
 Darcy answered in a low tone. " I told you, Eajah, 
 I had no fear of fire ; it is on the other element that 
 our fate depends." 
 
 Eumour speedily carried to the Native women 
 sheltered in the vast inner chambers of the cave- 
 temple the explanation of the terrific crash they had 
 heard and the flame whose bright glare had been 
 visible for a moment through the chinks by which 
 their chambers were half -lighted, and even by reflec- 
 tion from the sides of the outer caverns. Zela's face
 
 THE SPKING OF THE TIGEE. 139^ 
 
 flushed, her eyes brightened with pride and dehght, 
 as her mother repeated in a few words what she had 
 heard from her companions of the zenana. 
 
 "You are proud of your friend? " Miss Kavanagh 
 said, interpreting truly the sudden change of expres- 
 sion in a countenance which a few seconds before had 
 been pale with fear, in eyes that had been but too 
 manifestly full of tears. "What is it that he has 
 done ? " 
 
 " He has blown up the village and all the budmashes 
 who had taken it. Ah, lady, I may well be proud 
 that such as he cared to be the friend and teacher of 
 one whom your mother thinks unworthy to touch the 
 hem of her robe. I had rather have been the slave 
 of Darcy sahib than the wife of any Maharajah, in 
 India, or any Burra Sahib at Calcutta." 
 
 A lighter colour tinged the cheek, a less perceptible 
 light brightened the eyes of the listener, as she turned 
 to repeat the explanation to her mother. The feat 
 was still the subject of discourse among the women, 
 and the elder children had drawn near to inquire, 
 sympathizing in if they could not fully understand 
 the satisfaction and exultation of their elders — when 
 a terrific crash above was answered by a chorus of 
 screams from their midst. Only Lady Helen and her 
 elder daughter remained silent and comparatively 
 calm ; and the latter, looking at Zela, saw that the 
 Eurasian had crouched to the ground, hiding her face 
 in her robe. 
 
 " Courage, Zela," she said, kindly; "that was only 
 what Lieutenant Darcy told us to expect, and it 
 cannot hurt us here."
 
 140 ERRANT. 
 
 ''Us!" cried the Eurasian, suddenly raising lier 
 head and looking her young consoler straight in the 
 face. "Do you think of nothing but yourselves? 
 you whom he saved so lately ! No, it cannot hurt 
 us, but it may have killed him.'" 
 
 Another and another heavy crash followed, till even 
 the English ladies began to fear that the terrors of 
 their companions might be but too well founded. 
 The guns of the defenders answered steadily and con- 
 tinuously ; but none of those in the vaults had the 
 knowledge or the calmness to distinguish the fact or 
 to understand its significance, while the thundering 
 fall of heavy masses of stone deafened their ears to 
 all other sounds and left them no nerve for conjecture. 
 But even to such terrors as these women — yes, and 
 children too — become speedily accustomed. Before 
 two hours had elapsed after the opening of the 
 enemy's fire, Miss Kavanagh had so far recovered 
 nerve and confidence as to venture into one of the 
 outer caves, and approach a Native soldier who 
 seemed in command at its mouth. 
 
 "What is happening in front?" she inquired, 
 "and why are you doing nothing?" as she noticed 
 that the retainers squatted on the ground beside their 
 cannon, their arms ready to hand, indeed, and the 
 match held in the hand of one of them, but without 
 an attempt to fire. The man salaamed courteously, 
 but evidently understood little of her question. She 
 pointed to the gun and the inactive loungers around. 
 
 " See, Mem sahib," the soldier said, pointing to the 
 embrasure. Venturing thither and leaning over the 
 gun, the young lady perceived that her station over-
 
 THE SPKING OF THE TIGER. 141 
 
 hung a precipice some forty feet in depth, at whose 
 foot stretched an extensive plain. To the left she 
 could just discern the edge of the slope by which the 
 fortress-palace was accessible in front ; and in the dis- 
 tance the extreme left of the besiegers, where a crowd 
 of the Nawab's followers were gathered out of danger 
 from the lower embrasures of the defenders. As yet 
 the place was attacked only on the more accessible 
 side. At that moment, a heavy report was attended 
 by a slight shock to the ground on which they stood, 
 followed by another, another, and yet another. 
 
 "Rajah guns," said the Native, pointing upwards; 
 *' Nawab guns," as a succession of reports from with- 
 out were followed by another crash in the upper 
 stories of the palace. 
 
 "I think I understand," the girl said, returning ta 
 her mother and speaking loudly enough to be heard by 
 Zela, who now sat near the Ranee's Native companions 
 in the further corner of the great chamber. " Our 
 guns in the front are firing still, and the men down 
 here do not move, so that those in front cannot be 
 hard pressed. But the enemy have artillery, and it 
 sounds much louder than ours. I am afraid their 
 guns are what Papa called heavier." 
 
 " No," replied Lady Helen, as a tremendous report in 
 a direction from which nothing had as yet been heard 
 was accompanied by a species of earthquake, pene- 
 trating even to that depth in the solid rock, "that is 
 one of our guns, and a very heavy one indeed, and 
 there goes another in the front." 
 
 The fact was that hitherto the defenders had fired 
 chiefly with grape and canister, or with stones, brick-
 
 142 EREANT. 
 
 bats, and other like substitutes, at enemies within 
 range of such missiles, and with light charges. Now, 
 having driven off all such assailants, they were en- 
 deavouring to silence the nine-pound and eighteen- 
 pound pieces which the mutineer artillerists had 
 brought into dangerous proximity to the fortress, un- 
 aware of or despising the power of its cannon or the 
 skill of those who used them. None of the latter 
 had any experience or training in the management of 
 artillery ; but Darcy, Arnheim, and James, profiting 
 by that education which enables men quickly to adapt 
 themselves to new circumstances, and to learn 
 promptly whatever they desire to learn, observed 
 where and when their shot fell short or went wide of 
 its mark, and were finding out how by rule of thumb 
 to give the required elevation to such of the pieces 
 mounted on the wall as could be properly trained 
 with the appliances at their command. Before night- 
 fall the besiegers had found it expedient to withdraw 
 their artillery to a greater distance, and to suspend 
 operations till they could protect it by regular field 
 works. Immediately after the evening meal had been 
 served in the subterranean chambers, Darcy, who had 
 gone the round of the defences, entered that in which 
 the ladies were gathered. As matter of course he 
 approached and addressed Lady Helen. But her 
 daughter observed that his eyes had first sought out 
 Zela, and noted in her attitude and manner that she 
 had recovered from the terror inspired by the noise 
 and confusion above. 
 
 ^'We have driven them back," he said, "and for 
 the night I think we shall have quiet. But to-
 
 THE SPRING OF THE TIGER. 143 
 
 morrow or next day they will reopen their fire, and 
 probably knock the whole place about our ears." 
 
 *' Oh dear ! " cried the younger girl, " and what is 
 to become of us then ? " 
 
 *' Don't be foolish, Helen," her mother said. " You 
 are old enough to learn that men who are doing their 
 best for us must not be harassed by the fears of women 
 and children. We have our courage and our duty as 
 they have theirs." 
 
 '* Miss Helen's question is worth an answer, 
 though," said Darcy, wishing to soften the reproof. 
 ''It is just when they have done knocking the build- 
 ings to pieces that we shall be safest. Their balls 
 have not hurt half a dozen men; the stones they 
 have knocked down have killed or wounded twice that 
 number. Even in front the wall is our worst danger ; 
 and were it not for the difficulty and the risk, and 
 that it might fill up the moat and contribute to 
 facilitate an assault, I should be disposed to blow up 
 the whole of it above the earthen rampart. Don't be 
 frightened if you hear more crashing during the night ; 
 we are going to pull down many of the most 
 dangerous portions of the ruin. Miss Kavanagh,*! 
 wish all the frightened creatures here were as steady 
 and cool as you seem. If you can keep the children 
 occupied and amused, they will soon learn to hear 
 without alarm and scarcely to notice sounds which, 
 as experience will teach them, bring no danger to 
 them." 
 
 " I will do my best," she replied. ** Mr. Darcy, 
 are they dividing the water into rations ? They seem 
 to give it us without regard to quantity."
 
 144 EKEANT. 
 
 " Thank you," he returned, earnestly. " I had for- 
 gotten that, and your thoughtful recollection of it 
 puts my neglect of so important a point to shame." 
 
 ''You have something else to think of," she an- 
 swered. " And they have brought down some of the 
 wounded into the next cave. Cannot we help to nurse 
 them ? " 
 
 " I am afraid you can do nothing for the Natives. 
 Their prejudices are too strongly rooted to be safely 
 disregarded even at a time like this. But I will have 
 our own wounded placed apart ; and for them I will 
 ask you to do all you can. We can spare no hands 
 to do more than carry them beyond reach of fire." 
 
 "And I," said Zela, timidly, coming up to him. 
 '' May I help Miss Kavanagh ? " 
 
 "You must ask her," Darcy replied ; turning, how- 
 ever, upon the young lady a look which appealed to 
 natural good feeling against the prejudices of race 
 and caste. 
 
 "Of course," replied the latter, "Miss Manton 
 shall share my work, whatever part my mother may 
 assign to me." 
 
 At a slight sign from Darcy, the young lady followed 
 him to the entrance of that outer chamber in which 
 he proposed to lodge the English wounded. 
 
 " I thank you," he said, " more than you can 
 understand, for that poor child. I have a father and 
 a sister at home, and both are very dear to me ; but 
 they will only be grieved if I fall. Zela's future, it 
 seems to me, may depend on my life. Miss Kavanagh, 
 if you think I have rendered you any service, repay it 
 to her when I can serve her no longer."
 
 THE SPEING OF THE TIGER. 145 
 
 Intently as his eyes were fixed on her face, Darcy 
 failed to understand the rising colour and the look of 
 pain, if such it were, visible for a moment in the eyes 
 of the young maiden before they were veiled by the 
 drooping lids. 
 
 " We cannot forget our debt, and I will do, my 
 mother will do, what we can," she answered. " She 
 shall understand, if anything befal you, that Zela is 
 your legacy to us. Are you content ? " 
 
 *' I thank you. But for what you have said, her 
 fate would have weighed heavily on my heart at the 
 last. And now — I have work till daylight, at any 
 rate — good night." 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 146 ERRANT. 
 
 CHAPTEE IX. 
 
 THE LION AT BAY. 
 
 " Hushed the "woxmded man his groaning, 
 Hushed the wife her little ones'; 
 Alone they heard the drum roll 
 And the roar of Sepoy guns." 
 
 * 
 
 The Sepoy artillerists, pressing into their service the 
 Natives, armed and unarmed, for miles around, 
 laboured during the whole of that night at the con- 
 struction of effective batteries bearing upon the most 
 vulnerable parts of the fortress, and so situate as to 
 be comparatively safe from the return fire. The 
 moon, breaking from a cloud, shone brightly over the 
 ground, marking out very distinctly the shadow cast 
 by a group of trees some hundred yards in front. 
 
 " Soubahdar," suddenly said a sentry, coming up 
 to the Native officer who directed the operations, 
 '^ there is'a shadow that moves under those trees." 
 
 "Take ten men with you, and see what it is. If 
 you can make a European prisoner, bring him in 
 alive at any cost." 
 
 But the moment that the noiseless party stole 
 from the trench, and their figures were relieved in 
 the moonlight against the dark background of the 
 rampart, two men, springing on their feet, mounted
 
 THE LION AT BAY. 147 
 
 horses that had during the obscurity reached the 
 place where the trees screened them from the return- 
 ing light of the moon, and rode at full speed for the 
 fortress. A shower of bullets rained around them 
 as they passed along the front of the Native lines for 
 nearly the whole distance. But when, crossing the 
 drawbridge two hundred yards in advance of the 
 nearest horseman who pursued them, they entered 
 the open gate and heard it clang behind them, both 
 sprang unhurt to the ground. 
 
 " I know their plan and their lines now, Kajah," 
 said Darcy to the Native Chief, who approached to 
 learn the result of the perilous reconnaissance, while 
 his companion Afzul removed the horses. " I am 
 afraid they are too strong for a sortie, and, harving 
 discovered us, there is no chance of a surprise ; but 
 I shall know how to direct our fire even by night. 
 We will disturb them now." 
 
 Accordingly, the guns of the besieged opened fire, 
 and the Natives in the outer caves, weary of inaction, 
 were delighted that they could play their part in this 
 work. But steadily and to good purpose as their fire 
 was maintained, it failed to prevent, though it inter- 
 rupted not a little, the work of entrenchment. When 
 the level sun so shone as to mark most distinctly by 
 its shadow the line of the Sepoys' rampart, Darcy 
 perceived that all his fire, directed by the knowledge 
 acquired at such a risk, had effected was to delay for 
 a few hours the opening of the enemy's batteries ; for 
 the slaughter of a score or two in a force so numerous 
 and of such worthless material as that besieging him 
 was hardly worth the expenditure of powder and shot.
 
 14^8 ^ ERRANT. 
 
 It would be useless and wearisome to recount the 
 daily details of the siege. Enough that for weeks the 
 firing from without was unceasingly maintained, till 
 the whole of the ancient and extensive buildings, with 
 the exception of the outer wall protected by its earthen 
 rampart, had been knocked into shapeless ruins. 
 This, however, as Darcy had predicted, was a service 
 to the defenders, who were now no longer exposed to 
 the fall of heavy masses or the shower of fragments 
 from above wherever an enemy's shot might strike, 
 while the ruinous heaps formed a rampart quite strong 
 enough to screen them from direct fire. Two con- 
 siderations only harassed incessantly the mind of 
 the young officer who, under the nominal command 
 of the Eajah, was the life, soul, and mind of the 
 defence. Firing constantly by day, bringing to bear 
 unlimited supplies of enforced labour by night, the 
 Sepoys had constructed battery after battery nearer 
 and nearer to the place, more and more strongly 
 protected ; never removing their guns from one till 
 the next was ready to receive them. At short range, 
 even the earthen rampart would not prove a sufficient 
 protection, and, a breach once made, it would be easy 
 to fill the moat with faggots, sacks, or earth ; when, 
 in hand-to-hand fighting, numbers must ere long 
 prevail. If an assault could be delivered at short 
 distance, prepared by a heavy fire from guns at a 
 point which the Sepoys were evidently bent on occupy- 
 ing, the result could hardly be doubtful. Again, it 
 was clear that the water supply was approaching 
 exhaustion. The well, carefully sounded each day, 
 was reported every evening some inch or two lower
 
 THE LION AT BAY. 149 
 
 than the night hefore. The supply doled out was 
 barely sufficient for health in such a climate ; and 
 though the Natives showed a signal generosity in 
 stinting themselves for the benefit of their European 
 comrades, of the ladies, children, and wounded, the 
 latter felt their privations severely now that milk was 
 no longer to be had, the stock of fruit waning, and 
 the water barely sufficient to quench natural thirst, 
 much less that of confinement, fatigue, and fever 
 induced by mental and bodily suffering.' 
 
 The time rolled on ; the sufferings of the besieged 
 increasing, their hopes waning, as day by day the 
 supply of water grew less, and the enemy, established 
 on what in a systematically conducted attack would 
 have been called their last parallel, had already beaten 
 an almost practicable breach in the earthen rampart 
 and the wall of stone that backed it. Darcy, who had 
 been more than once wounded, though not disabled, 
 suffered more from the consequent fever than from 
 the pain itself. He had paid a visit to the ladies, 
 from whom he had studiously concealed the extent 
 and imminence of the danger; and returned pained 
 to the heart by the fretting of the children — begging 
 for more water, and torturing both English and 
 Native mothers by the necessity of refusal — even 
 more than by the silent endurance of the wounded, 
 whose dry, cracked lips bore witness to the need 
 whereof they would not speak. But for the supplies 
 of fruit so thoughtfully collected, the suffering of all 
 would have been by this time unendurable. Darcy 
 had shared one half his own evening draught between 
 a badly wounded Native, who could scarcely be brought
 
 150 EKRANT. 
 
 to accept it, and the little Fanny, who had become 
 reconciled to and even fond of him as time had re- 
 placed the burnt eyebrows, lashes, and moustache, and 
 healed the scars of the fire. To Zela it was vain to 
 offer such a boon. Indeed, she had saved repeatedly 
 her own share of fruit, and on one or two occasions 
 had forced him to accept a small portion, lest his 
 persistent refusal should cause her more suffering 
 than could the privation she shared with all around 
 her. As he reached the courtyard, the expression of 
 hope and satisfaction on the grave faces of Von 
 Arnheim and the Kajah surprised and encouraged 
 him. Before them stood, almost naked, a Native 
 youth, little more than a boy. The white cloth around 
 his loins, his sole garment, was soaked in blood that 
 still trickled from a wound in the hip, received from 
 a musket ball of an enemy's sentry who had seen him 
 as he scrambled up the ruins at perhaps the one 
 point accessible to a good climber, on one of the rocky 
 fronts which the enemy did not attempt to assault, 
 but which were now closely invested. 
 
 " Lieutenant Darcy," said the Kajah, " I think you 
 may trust this boy's report. He is the son of my 
 grandfather's daughter, and of a father who served 
 with distinction in one of your own Irregular corps. 
 Now, repeat to the sahib what you have just told us." 
 
 "It was full a hundred miles from here," said the 
 boy, " that I fell in a week ago with British soldiers. 
 There were some hundreds of them, and the officer at 
 their head wore a uniform like that I have seen the 
 sahib wear " (for Darcy, like his men, had now dis- 
 carded their too distinctive uniform for clothes more
 
 THE LION AT BAY. 151 
 
 resembling those of the Natives, and not marking 
 them out as Europeans to the especial aim of the 
 enemy). "He said: 'Tell the Eajah and tell the 
 sahibs that Vane will come to their help if they can 
 hold out for a fortnight longer, perhaps before.' " 
 
 " Did you tell him," said Darcy, " how many were 
 besieging us? And had he any guns ? " 
 
 " I saw no guns, sahib. I told him there were lakhs 
 of men about the place, and he laughed. He asked 
 how many of them were in red coats, and I told him 
 about half a lakh.'' [Fifty thousand.] 
 
 " If he believes that," observed Darcy, laughing, 
 "we shall have to wait for our rescue." 
 
 " He Imows," said Von Arnheim, " that Natives so 
 young as this boy have no idea of numbers. , My 
 boy, you have done well. You will live to be a brave 
 and distinguished soldier." 
 
 "Your name ? " said Darcy; and, receiving it from 
 the boy, who in the praise and notice of the sahibs 
 had forgotten the pain of his wound : " If we live to 
 be rescued, you shall have honour and reward worthy 
 of what you have done. You have served us as well 
 as the cleverest and bravest man could have done 
 after years of experience in war." 
 
 Whether or no the enemy had received similar 
 tidings, it was manifest that the attack was pushed on 
 with increasing urgency, and on the fourth day after 
 the boy's arrival all was evidently prepared for an 
 assault. The breach was wide, the slope of the fallen 
 stones and earth easy, the cover for the defenders so 
 deficient that to serve the guns under the constant 
 fire of the enemy's musketry cost a life for almost
 
 152 ERRANT. 
 
 every volley. At last Darcy forbade the further 
 serving of those guns ^vhich were most exposed, bid- 
 ding the men load them with grape and train them on 
 the breach ; giving every man, Native and European, 
 his post along the wall, and leaving to guard the cave 
 embrasures and the rocky steeps only as many as 
 might prevent the escalade that no more than three 
 or four daring enemies at once might attempt. Then 
 placing the sentries, he bade all who were not required 
 for duty lie down for sleep immediately under the 
 outer wall till called actually to defend their lines, and 
 descended himself to seek a last interview with his 
 countrywomen. 
 
 " Lady Helen," he said, "take this," handing her 
 a loaded revolver. " Do not' use it till the enemy 
 actually set foot in this room, but for your daughters' 
 sake and your own use it then. Zela, it is to please 
 me you have always dressed almost like an English 
 child. Dress now as your mother's daughter. What- 
 ever your fate, it will be at worst the same as that of 
 the Eajah's house. Our women have worse to expect 
 if they fall into the hands of such as the Nawab or his 
 followers." 
 
 " No ! " cried Zela, indignantly. "I will not dress 
 like the wives and daughters of those who are going 
 to kill you. And that young lady has been kind to 
 me : I don't wish to fare better than she does. You 
 will let me stay by you. Miss Kavanagh ? " she asked, 
 turning to the young maiden, who, pale but calm, 
 had drawn close to her mother's side. " You will let 
 me die at your feet, as you have let me stay beside 
 you in these long dreadful days ? "
 
 THE LION AT BAY. 153 
 
 ''Then," said Darcy, calmly, "Lady Helen — you 
 will do by this child as by your own ? " 
 
 The widow bent her head in assent. 
 
 '^ The last struggle may come at any moment now ; 
 and also rescue may come at any moment ; but if the 
 enemy enter these caves the rescue will come too late. 
 However, you must judge for yourselves. They will 
 not set foot here while one of us is alive." 
 
 Exchanging a silent earnest pressure of the hand 
 with each of his countrywomen, and kissing those of 
 the children who clustered round, among whose looks 
 of wonder and fear the most earnest, anxious, and 
 intelligent was that of the little Minnie Thomson, he 
 bent over Zela, to whom, more than to any but one 
 other, his heart was drawn at that terrible moment. 
 
 " Farewell, my pupil. If we do not meet again 
 here, God grant we may meet elsewhere." 
 
 '' And soon," she answered. "If you do not return, 
 Mr. Darcy, I shall not stay." ' 
 
 He bent to kiss her brow ; but, all reserve of habit 
 and training broken through by the violence of 
 emotion, she sprang up so that his lips met her own. 
 There was nothing beyond earnest kindness in his 
 kiss; perhaps almost as little in hers, for all other 
 feelings were absorbed in the awful anticipations of 
 the hour. Turning from her, his eyes met what 
 seemed to him a look of painful reproach in those of 
 the one person in that assembly whose censure or 
 approval could have affected him. But he found, 
 perhaps sought, no words of self-defence or excuse; 
 only, answering Miss Kavanagh's look with one as 
 bright and direct as a clear conscience could give, he
 
 154 ERE ANT. 
 
 took her hand in his, and slightly bent his knee as 
 he lifted it to his lips. 
 
 " Morituri te salutant/' he said. 
 
 The act and words expressed an appropriate and 
 dignified answer to her tacit rebuke, almost as much 
 as a farewell to one whose displeasure he could not 
 easily endure ; and he observed with surprised interest 
 even at that moment that both were evidently under- 
 stood. Well read in history, if not familiar with the 
 language, Alice Kavanagh had been impressed by, 
 and remembered since she first read it, the salute of 
 the gladiators to the Emperors who sent them to a 
 useless and unworthy death. 
 
 ^' God send it be not so," she replied. ^' But if it be 
 His will, such a death might fully atone all the 
 errors of a life less honourable than yours can have 
 been. I trust — ivhatever hapj)e7is — we may hope to 
 meet again before long." 
 
 Eeturning to his post, Darcy flung himself down 
 among his sleeping men, having learnt already the 
 soldier's art of sleeping at will amid the worst and 
 most threatening dangers which for the moment no 
 exertion of his own was required or could avail to 
 meet. He had slept for some hours, and the sun 
 was near setting, when the reopened fire of the 
 enemy, crashing over their heads and shattering the 
 stones, roused him and all the defenders. They took 
 their places in stern and resolute silence. 
 
 ''Pick out their chiefs," said Darcy, quietly, "as 
 they come on, and don't waste a shot." 
 
 The English were drawn up immediately on either 
 side of the breach, ready at the moment of attack to
 
 THE LION AT BAY. 155 
 
 form line across it for defence. All that could be 
 done to render it difficult and impracticable had been 
 done ; but all the artificial obstructions were now 
 shattered in a few minutes. The white turbans and 
 dusky faces of the assaulting force were visible a few 
 yards in rear of their guns. "When the defences of the 
 breach were beaten to pieces, the fire of the Natives 
 ceased. A gallant young Mussulman sprang forward 
 in their front, and with a yell of "Been! " the whole 
 body, ten deep, and lining the entire slope, rushed 
 forward. As they reached the edge of the moat the 
 guns i)oured into them a volley of regular grape-shot, 
 reserved for this critical moment, which staggered 
 and checked them. Then Darcy leaped to his place 
 in front of his men and in the very centre of tiie 
 slope of ruins. Behind the English line of bayonets 
 and loaded carbines were ranged as many Natives 
 with weapons equally formidable in close assault. 
 The remainder of the Eajah's force held the shattered 
 wall on either side, firing slowly and steadily into 
 the mass that filled the moat, and upon which every 
 shot told, but with little or no effect upon their 
 advance. As the enemy's leader set foot on the 
 bottom of the breach, Darcy levelled the revolver he 
 held in his left hand. "He carries all our lives in 
 his," he muttered, as with steady wrist he sent his 
 bullet through the heart of one who in feeling, in 
 purpose, in conscience, and in the estimate of his 
 followers, was as true a hero as his antagonist. 
 
 The fall of their leader staggered the assailants for 
 a moment ; but those in front were borne on by the 
 rush of those behind. The volley of the carbines
 
 15G EEEANT. 
 
 swept away the whole of their front rank, but caused 
 no check, and the second rank were in another 
 instant fighting hand to hand with the defenders of 
 the breach. They could not, however, force the 
 steady line of bayonets, held firmly by the strong 
 hands of the Englishmen, who stood shoulder to 
 shoulder ; fighting not only for life but for the honour 
 of their country and of their regiment, and for objects 
 that were dearer than either. A more desperate or 
 savage conflict never roused the bitterest passions of 
 both parties. The swinging swords, the spears thrust 
 or flung by the Natives, were less effective to force a 
 passage than the unbroken immovable line of 
 bayonets to resist it ; and, under the Kajah's direc- 
 tions, the line of defence formed by his own retainers 
 steadily reloaded their pieces while the fight con- 
 tinued within a spear-length of their muzzles, and 
 poured a volley between the heads of the men in front 
 into the attacking force. 
 
 Fighting at first a step or two in advance of his 
 men, Darcy had been forced back by sheer pressure 
 into their ranks, and now held a lance, as the most 
 effective weapon, in the midst of the bayonets which, 
 gathered at Sivapore, had by his direction been 
 attached to the carbines of the Lancers. After 
 piercing two or three of the enemy who were thrust 
 upon it by those behind them, this weapon was 
 wrenched from his grasp; but with the revolver in 
 one hand and the sword in the other he trusted to 
 sell his life as dearly as any of those around him. 
 Almost every man in the front line was wounded 
 more or less severely; but not one moved, under
 
 THE LION AT BAY. 157 
 
 whatever impulse or provocation, his weapon from 
 the line whose evenness it had been the special 
 charge and care of their chief to preserve. None of 
 them consequently could aid him when, his revolver 
 exhausted, two swords at once clashing with his 
 own, a spear was flung with deadly aim at his 
 defenceless breast. But Von Arnheim, who, sword 
 in hand, had taken his place where one of the 
 wounded fell, caught the weapon on his own and 
 struck it aside when within a few inches of his friend's 
 heart. 
 
 The rush, however, j)revailed at last by sheer 
 weight, and pressed the defenders backward to and 
 almost over the ledge of earth and broken stone that 
 afforded their last foothold, between the slope of the 
 ascent without and that formed by the shot-shattered 
 ruins which fell still more steeply into the courtyard 
 behind. 
 
 "Stand fast, men," said Darcy. "Driven back 
 from this, all is over; " and as he spoke he cut down 
 another of those fanatical Mahometans who, inspired 
 by a warlike and undoubting faith, gave whatever 
 courage and cohesion it possessed to the attack as to 
 the rebellion in general. Darcy, his sword striking 
 deep into the shoulder of the falling man, was for a 
 moment held fast, and in that moment a cut from the 
 tulwar of the next assailant laid his sword-arm open 
 to the bone. A spear entered his breast, a bullet 
 pierced his thigh, and finally a blow on the head from 
 the butt end of a long, old-fashioned Native firelock 
 hurled him backward, powerless and senseless. The 
 Eajah, springing through the gap left, sent the spear
 
 158 ERE ANT. 
 
 he held through the heart of him who had struck the 
 first blow at his friend, and with his long sharp 
 two-edged sword almost hewed from the shoulders 
 the head of the next assailant. But the defenders 
 were now forced back inch by inch till the whole 
 summit of the breach was in the hands of the enemy. 
 
 *' Our last hope," cried the Kajah, in Hindoostanee. 
 ''Fire!" 
 
 Nothing followed for some seconds, and, with a 
 contemptuous shout, the assailants pressed on, having 
 killed or disabled two-thirds of the English defenders, 
 and driving before them the disheartened Natives, 
 who, but for the presence and the desperate courage 
 of their beloved Chief, would have given way at once. 
 
 "Djuna!" shouted the Kajah, ^'are you fool or 
 traitor ? Fire ! " 
 
 But almost before he spoke the answer was given. 
 A sullen rumble, a flash and roar ! The defenders 
 were hurled backwards into the courtyard, followed 
 involuntarily by more than their own number of the 
 assailants. The remainder of the attacking column 
 upon the breach had felt suddenly aware of some 
 unknown peril, had halted in confusion and dismay. 
 A thunder-peal and flash that illuminated the whole 
 twilight sky for miles around ! The ruins that formed 
 the ascent of the breach were blown to pieces, the 
 assailants upon it hurled into the air, the moat filled 
 with fragments of stone and of human bodies, with 
 dead and dying men. 
 
 The assault was at an end ; and with some difficulty 
 the Eajah, recovering from the shock which had 
 stunned him, gathered his followers together before
 
 THE LION AT BAY. 159 
 
 the enemy became aware that even after their defeat 
 they were within the courtyard more numerous than 
 its defenders. Too confounded and terrified, however, 
 to fight, they were instantly cut down, and the Native 
 Prince reascended the shattered wall of his fortress to 
 see that for the present it was safe ; that the enemy 
 were in full flight, and not an unwounded man left 
 within range of the defenders' fire.
 
 160 ERRANT. 
 
 CHAPTEE X. 
 
 LOYAL — A MORT. 
 
 " Thou hast done well, my servant ; 
 Ask and receive thy reward." 
 
 It was noon on the next day before the anxious 
 care with which, relieving guard at intervals on his 
 pallet, Alice Kavanagh and Zela had watched the 
 almost unconscious but intense suffering of their 
 wounded friend was rewarded by signs of returning 
 sensibility. The English face of the former bending 
 over him appeared to recal dim remembrances of 
 another climate and widely different circumstances, 
 for his first words showed no recollection of the scenes 
 through which he had lately passed. 
 
 " Thank you. Amy," he murmured; "but my head 
 aches worse than ever. No, dear, your hand is hot 
 and this handkerchief pains me " — trying to move his 
 right arm in the effort to take the bandage from his 
 wounded head. His inability to lift the arm probably 
 awakened him to thought and consciousness, for when 
 he next spoke it was to refuse the water with which 
 Alice endeavoured to quench the thirst manifested by 
 the parched lips and difficult breathing.
 
 LOYAL — A MOKT. 161 
 
 *'No, we have none to spare; and the children 
 want it more than we." 
 
 Then at last, fairly opening his eyes, he looked 
 around him with a glance that realized the scene at 
 once. He made a desperate effort to rise, but in 
 vain, and sank back at last, fully aware of his weak- 
 ness and recalling all that had passed. 
 
 *'What has happened? Have they stormed the 
 place, and are we prisoners ? " 
 
 The movement deepened and freshened the dark 
 crimson stains on the bandages that covered his 
 wounds ; and the girl, much alarmed, placed her hand 
 lightly on his unwounded shoulder to restrain any 
 further exertion. 
 
 " Hush ! " she said. " Don't try to speak or mQve, 
 and I will tell you. But drink this water ; we have 
 plenty." 
 
 She could only force a few mouthfuls on her 
 reluctant patient ; and when these were swallowed 
 she spoke again. 
 
 " The breach, they say, was blown up, and the 
 enemy driven off. We heard the roar and saw the 
 reflection of the fire. Since then they have been 
 almost quiet ; we have not heard another shot from 
 without." 
 
 " What can that mean ? " murmured Darcy. ^' Is 
 it you, Miss Kavanagh? Perhaps, if they are not 
 firing, Von Arnheim or the Eajah can leave the front 
 to tell me. Can vou not send one of the slaves ? 
 You must not go out yourself." 
 
 Only a few minutes had elapsed, during which his 
 nurse had done her utmost to silence the anxious 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 162 EEEANT. 
 
 inquiries slie could not answer, when the Kajpoot 
 Prince, his face and naked arms bearing honourable 
 traces of the part he had taken in the close and 
 desperate struggle, stood by his English friend's 
 bedside. With a courteous salute to the lady, to- 
 wards whom and her companions he had on the 
 few occasions when they met displayed all the 
 polished courtesy of a European gentleman of the 
 old school, he told in the fewest possible words all 
 that as he well knew the patient was restlessly anxious 
 to learn. 
 
 " You were right about the mine," he said. 
 *' Terrible as the danger was if the enemy's guns had 
 exploded it, frightened out of their wits as our men 
 would have been if they had known of its existence, 
 it was the only thing that could have saved us when 
 you fell, and it has saved us so far effectually. They 
 were so scared that they ran unpursued for half an 
 hour afterwards, and your friend sallied out, spiked 
 and disabled their guns, and blew up the greater 
 I)art of their powder. They have not found courage 
 
 to attempt another assault ; though " He paused, 
 
 and Darcy feebly answered — 
 
 " Though the front can hardly be defensible after 
 the explosion. Surely you have done something to 
 strengthen it ? " 
 
 " All we could," said the Eajah ; " and I think it 
 is good for a while. They have not yet been able to 
 render their guns serviceable, though they have of 
 course recovered possession of their batteries." 
 
 At this moment a loud shout from above startled 
 all who heard it. Striving in vain to raise himself
 
 LOYAL — 1 MORT. 163 
 
 on his left elbow, Darcy listened, with ears rather 
 sharpened by illness than dulled by pain and exhaus- 
 tion. 
 
 " That is not a battle shout ; and there is no 
 answer. What does it mean ? " 
 
 A cry of joy from the women in the inner chambers 
 seemed to answer the question ; and the Eajah, 
 hastily stepping to the carefully blocked entrance 
 of the cavern, looked through the embrasure. When 
 he turned again, the brightness of confident hope 
 that had driven from his face the look of fatigue and 
 anxiety it had hitherto worn, told its tale before he 
 spoke. 
 
 "The shout meant rescue," he said. *'Your flags 
 are in sight. The force is small, but there is at least 
 one squadron of English cavalry, a small body of 
 white infantry, and a larger force of Natives, who, 
 I think, are Punjabees; and I am almost sure they 
 have guns. Yes, there they go," as one, two, three, 
 four reports in succession were heard, and he moved 
 again to the embrasure. " They are coming up 
 steadily but quickly across the plain. The artillery 
 are galloping to the front again : they unlimber ; 
 they are going to open fire, and the cavalry are wheel- 
 ing to their left to turn the enemy's flank. They are 
 your own Lancers, Lieutenant Darcy; not many of 
 them, though, and strangely mixed up. About half 
 of them wear your uniform," he said, scanning the 
 scene closely with his friend's glass. " The others 
 are in every sort of dress ; but they are white men. 
 Ah ! there is a squadron of Native cavalry too, but 
 not in your uniform. The Nawab won't wait for
 
 164 EEKANT. 
 
 them unless they make their charge quickly. There 
 go the guns again." 
 
 A feeble hurrah rose from all the pallets and 
 roughly constructed couches of straw and Native 
 cushions, on which the English wounded were 
 propped. 
 
 ^^ Nunc dimittis,'^ murmured Darcy, as the flush 
 upon his face faded into deadly whiteness. ''Zela," 
 and he stretched his left hand weakly to feel for one 
 he could no longer see. But before his pupil, who 
 had just entered the chamber with the draught of 
 sherbet she had with much difficulty contrived to 
 make from the scanty resources at their disposal, had 
 heard her name and reached the couch, he had sunk 
 back lifeless, no breath apparently passing through 
 the half-closed lips, no sight in the eyes that the lids 
 but partially covered. 
 
 " Ah ! he is dead," cried Zela, with a shriek that 
 drew the Eajah's attention from the exciting scene his 
 eyes were eagerly watching. He came hastily to the 
 bedside, and, kneeling, held for some moments the 
 wrist of his insensible friend. 
 
 *' No, there is life," he said; '^ but little enough; 
 and no wonder. Get brandy and mix it with that 
 draught." 
 
 He was obeyed, and after a prolonged insensibility 
 the pulse was again distinctly perceptible, a faint 
 colour was slowly struggling back into the white 
 cheeks, when another thundering shout from the 
 front announced the result of what had hardly been 
 a battle and the entrance of the victors into the 
 fortress. But when Colonel Vane stood in front of
 
 LOYAL— A MOKT. 165 
 
 his wounded comrade and looked on the still uncon- 
 scious man, the bitter pain in his face, clouding the 
 expression of intense gratitude and joy it had worn 
 when he first entered, announced his belief that for 
 one purpose at least, and that not the least cherished 
 object of his march, he had come too late. It was 
 with a sad and troubled look that he turned after two 
 or three minutes' silence to the Native Prince. 
 
 ''Your Highness," he said, "has made the Govern- 
 ment, England, and the Queen your debtors. The 
 defence of this place has been not only one of the 
 most gallant things done in this part of India, but 
 has contributed more than a British brigade could 
 have done to maintain our cause in these provinces. 
 Your Highness may name your own reward, and «an 
 hardly name anything that Government will think 
 too high for your deserts. We owe you above all 
 things the lives of at least a score of European men, 
 women, and children, whom I have picked up or of 
 whose safety I have received notice, within a hundred 
 miles of this spot. They had been hidden and kept 
 alive by those into whose power they had fallen, 
 simply because your defence and the patrolling of the 
 country by your men under my friend's command 
 taught them that the British power was still living 
 here, and made them think it safer to earn our good 
 will than to gratify their greed or hatred." 
 
 " Colonel," replied the Kajah, much affected, "you 
 owe more to your comrade there than to me. But for 
 him, I could have done little, and perhaps I should 
 have done nothing. If he lives, I hope your Govern- 
 ment will for once be just, and pay the debt it owes
 
 166 EEEANT. 
 
 him. If not, I shall have little pleasure in any 
 recompense they may think due to me." 
 
 "Is he living ? " said Vane, hastily stooping for- 
 ward — a question which was answered hy a slight 
 movement of the sufferer. " Here, call the surgeon ; 
 tell him to come at once." 
 
 Some hours later, Darcy had so far recovered as to 
 recognize the face and feebly press the hand of his 
 commanding officer. 
 
 ''I had little idea," said Vane, "what I was doing 
 when I sent you here. Von Arnheim has told me the 
 story of your rescue and defence of the Eesidency, 
 your dispersal of the Irregulars from Sivapore, and 
 the work you have done around this place before you 
 were besieged. Any one of these things alone, besides 
 the siege, would have won you a brevet step and the 
 Cross; and of both I hope you are now sure. You 
 must, of course, make me a report as soon as you are 
 able to write ; a full one too, and I will take care it 
 goes straight to the Commander-in-Chief." 
 
 " You will find," replied Darcy, "in Von Arnheim's 
 and Lady Helen Kavanagh's hands a duplicate 
 account of all we had done up to the last assault, and 
 there is not much to say of that." 
 
 " Bah ! I have read that ; but if all soldiers reported 
 after your fashion, the Government would hardly 
 Imow what we have done." 
 
 "I hope I have done my best. It was a heavy 
 trust, and I am glad you come in time to take it from 
 me. But for Von Arnheim, and above all, but for 
 the Eajah, I could have done nothing. Kemember, 
 by the way, the Eajah was in command, not I."
 
 LOYAL — A MORT. 167 
 
 " Nonsense," said Vane, who as a soldier under- 
 stood far better than will most readers the significance 
 of such a renunciation. ^'The Eajah will have, of 
 course, rich and ample reward for his loyalty ; but the 
 command rests with the one British officer on the 
 spot ; and you are entitled to the honour, as you 
 would have borne the blame had you failed." 
 
 "I tell you no, Colonel," returned the patient 
 earnestly, though with a physical effort that evidently 
 cost him dear. '' The Eajah's flag waved over his 
 Palace till it was knocked to pieces, and ours was only 
 hoisted over the line that we, some two dozen of us at 
 first, undertook to hold. And don't make a mistake ; 
 the Kajali will value the honours of a soldier ; but he 
 will feel the wrong acutely if Government fail to 4;reat 
 him as a Prince who held his own fortress for the 
 British cause. And what Government will do depends, 
 of course, upon the account you give them." 
 
 "You must talk no more at present. Be satisfied 
 that full justice shall be done to your friend. No 
 soldier can fail to appreciate his gallantry. I think 
 I know to whom his loyalty may be ascribed." 
 
 " The surgeon's report is a bad one," said Vane to 
 the German Count, as they sat alone somewhat later 
 in a tent pitched among the ruins. *' He says that 
 Darcy's only chance of life is to reach the sea as soon 
 as possible and return to England ; and that it will 
 be a year at best before he can return to service, if he 
 can ever return." 
 
 " I don't wonder," Von Arnheim replied. " His 
 fatigues or his wounds alone might have killed a much 
 stronger man. He will carry to his grave half a
 
 168 EERANT. 
 
 dozen such scars as would do high honour to a soldier 
 of twenty times his length of service, and every one 
 of them severally earned in hard personal conflict. 
 And he is not one of those youngsters who forget the 
 duty of an officer in the courage of a soldier. Through 
 all the weeks that have passed since we parted he has 
 forgotten nothing, left nothing undone, that a General 
 or an experienced civil ruler could have remembered. 
 The plan of the defence, the operations without and 
 within, the collection of supplies, were all his work 
 and his care ; and his example not only made heroes 
 of your own soldiers — any good officer might have 
 done that, with the help of such circumstances — but 
 has won that passionate attachment which Natives 
 give to a first-rate English leader, on the part of every 
 Hindoo warrior here, from the Eajah to his meanest 
 retainer. You can count on your fingers the number of 
 such men that your Company — a strange Government 
 for one of the greatest empires on earth — has in its 
 service ; and it is chiefly on that score or so of men, 
 of whom Darcy will not be the least, that your empire 
 here, won by the sword and held by the sword, as 
 you yourselves boast, depends. Well, you will have 
 to send the women and children you have collected, 
 and those we have sheltered here, to a place of safety. 
 You will let me go with them ; and I will take care of 
 Darcy till I see him on board, at any rate, if I don't, 
 as I should like to do, return to Europe with him." 
 
 When Vane announced to his favourite subaltern 
 the decision of the surgeon, he was not a little sur- 
 prised by the manner in which it was received. 
 
 '^ You had made up your mind, I suppose, Darcy,
 
 LOYAL — A MOKT. 169 
 
 that you could hardly sit in the saddle again before 
 the best of the fighting here was over ? And if you 
 are to be invalided, surely you will be glad to be at 
 home?" 
 
 ''No, I would rather have stayed in India, if it 
 might be. But, for my father's and sister's sake, I 
 have no right to disobey a warning so imperative ; 
 since, as you say, I can be of no use here till your 
 work will be done ; and there can be no pleasure in 
 waiting at Simla or elsewhere in the hills to hear what 
 is going on in the plains. I hoped," continued Darcy, 
 " if I had remained here, to bring the Eanee's case, 
 through some influential friend, before the Governor- 
 General. See to it, I pray you. Vane. I cannot. I 
 tried to write something about it during the siege, -but 
 I had no leisure, and now I cannot hold a pencil." 
 
 " You must not attempt such a thing for weeks to 
 come," said his comrade. '' I can guess how much 
 you feel for your pretty pupil, by the passionate 
 interest in and anxiety for you she cannot conceal. 
 Well, you will have her for a companion till you reach 
 your first secure resting-place ; and of course I don't 
 know exactly how long you may have to remain there. 
 But Dr. Browne insists that your only chance is to be 
 removed on shipboard as promptly as possible ; and 
 I have told Kirkpatrick, who is in charge of the escort, 
 to have you sent on at any cost ; to find an oppor- 
 tunity or make one." 
 
 " And what has become of our comrades at 
 Sivapore?" 
 
 " Major Thomson is safe. He was shot down, but 
 not very seriously wounded ; and shammed dead
 
 170 EKRANT. 
 
 among those who were killed, or worse hurt, till he 
 had a chance of hiding in the jungle outside the 
 station ; where, when I contrived to rally a score or 
 two of my troopers, I found and picked up him and 
 one or two others. Of our own, all but Kirkpatrick 
 are killed. The Brigadier's fate you know ; and of the 
 Company's officers half a dozen only have escaped. 
 We have lost no women ; we had, as you know, but 
 two with us, and we saved with Native help a few of 
 theirs. Thomson and his wife are gone to England, 
 heart-broken for the loss of their little ones, just after 
 their strange escape from the fire. They will thank 
 God and you when they hear of your second rescue 
 of those pretty little maidens." 
 
 " I have said nothing, except that they were safe, 
 in my report. Don't add to it. Vane." 
 
 "As you please," said the other, not choosing to 
 contradict the wounded soldier. *^You must start 
 before daybreak. We have got a palkee and relays 
 of bearers for you. Now, don't fret, and don't fatigue 
 yourself with thinking or trying to do anything ; 
 and don't break your heart at the parting with your 
 Native Princess."
 
 ( 171 ) 
 
 CHAPTEK XI. 
 
 APHRODITE THALASSIA. 
 
 "A medicine in themselves 
 To wile the length of languorous hours, and draw 
 The sting from pain." 
 
 Some weeks had elapsed before the Ava, with many- 
 rescued women and children and several wounded 
 officers among her passengers, was on her voyage 
 between Madras and Point de Galle in Ceylon. Darcy 
 lay under the shade of a sail, arranged to shelter him 
 from both sun and wind, by the lee bulwarks of the 
 vessel, somewhat in front of the funnel ; and by him, 
 watching him with all a comrade's regard and at 
 least a woman's care and attention, sat the German 
 who had gone with him through all his perils and 
 achievements. 
 
 *' It is well," said the latter, " that the rescue was 
 commanded by your own chief, or your report would 
 
 have spoiled all. As it was. Lord , when he 
 
 read the full account of our adventures in the Friend 
 of India, spoke to me about it — I believe he gave me 
 an audience on purpose — and expressed great surprise 
 at the difference between the report received from 
 Vane and the story which, as he guessed or was told.
 
 172 EEKANT. 
 
 I had written. I vouched for every detail of my own 
 narrative, and he said, ' Your friend seems to have 
 ■every mihtary gift but that of writing despatches. 
 Vane avowed that he had filled up his report from 
 other accounts than Darcy's, or I should have hardly 
 appreciated half the merit of one of the best of the 
 many gallant actions it is my duty and pleasure to 
 recommend to Her Majesty for recognition, — my only 
 compensation for the miserable work of the last six 
 months.' It was a pity you could not present yourself 
 at Government House ; and it is fortunate that you 
 had for your companion one who is free to tell your 
 story as it deserves, both officially and otherwise." 
 
 "You mean kindly," replied the invalid; "but I 
 do hope there will be no more writing about it in the 
 newspapers. Their praise, ignorant as they are, is 
 no honour, and has always seemed to me a sheer 
 impertinence. It is for our Sovereign alone to judge 
 and to acknowledge as she thinks fit a soldier's 
 service ; and even you must own that all you could 
 wish has been done for me in official quarters." 
 
 " I hope so," answered Von Arnheim. " And I hope 
 your War Office will not allow you to suffer by your 
 own modesty. But, with so many clamorous appli- 
 cants for favour, they are terribly apt to overlook 
 those who do not worry them. When a dozen noisy 
 mouths have to be stopped, it needs more conscience 
 and public spirit than an official career generally 
 leaves in a Minister, more principle and common 
 sense than generally survives in a Commander-in- 
 Chief after twenty years' training in the formal 
 etiquette of peace time, to remember and do justice
 
 APHKODITE THALASSIA. 173 
 
 to any one whom it is safe to neglect. Now, Afzul is 
 bringing your lunch, and I think some one else is 
 only waiting my departure to give you company more 
 agreeable than either Afzul's or mine." 
 
 The German walked away to light his huge pipe on 
 a portion of the deck where that indulgence was per- 
 mitted ; and when Afzul had placed beside the patient 
 the slight meal, carefully cooked and served to suit and 
 tempt the invalid's appetite. Lady Helen Kavanagh 
 and her daughters, in deep mourning, prolonged their 
 walk on the after-deck so as to pause w^here Darcy ^ 
 lay. The widow raised her veil to look with com- 
 passionate interest on the young face, so pale, so 
 sharpened and contracted by pain, and the helpless, 
 wasted form she had seen so often, under cirpum- 
 stances that had impressed on her memory pictures 
 never to be forgotten, with the proud, erect bearing of 
 a soldier on whom rested the lives of men, the honour 
 of women, great public interests, and the credit of his 
 regiment and his flag. Her own countenance told to 
 Darcy's eye a sadder story of suffering and sorrow, to 
 which the anxieties he had borne and the physical 
 torture he still endured were in nowise to be compared. 
 Within the last few weeks the dark-brown hair had 
 been mingled with grey more deeply than twelve years 
 of ordinary life should have tinged it. The cheeks, 
 white and worn, showed two bright spots, which under 
 emotion, exertion, or excitement became crimson, 
 contrasting painfully the general dead pallor of the 
 face. The sunken eyes, dark lids, and deep black 
 curves beneath the orbits, told of sleepless nights and 
 wearing thoughts. A more experienced man might
 
 174 EEEANT. 
 
 have read the approach of death itself in a change so 
 rapid and so continuous. The young officer only 
 understood the signs of mental and physical suffering 
 calmly borne but not the less telling on soul and 
 frame ; and a deep compassion, which for the moment 
 rendered him almost ashamed of the complacency 
 with which he had accepted feminine pity for his own 
 sharp bodily pangs, mingled with the respect evinced 
 in his feeble attempt to rise on his unwounded arm 
 and lift his cap in salute. 
 
 " The surgeon gave us a more favourable account 
 of you this morning," said Lady Helen. "1 hoped 
 to have seen you a little less utterly helpless." 
 
 " The surgeon has something to answer for," replied 
 Darcy, abandoning the endeavour to rise ; for the 
 exertion, slight as it was, had sent a twinge of pain 
 through all his wounds. " He is bent on making my 
 pain as light as possible, and keeps me in consequence 
 half stupefied with opiates." 
 
 "You suffer, then, still very much?" she asked 
 with kindly anxiety. 
 
 "As much as he will let me," Darcy answered. 
 " But I think the worst part of a long confinement 
 like this is not pain but weariness. Von Arnheim 
 sacrifices his time and exerts all his memory and 
 invention to amuse me ; and he has contrived a very 
 ingenious apparatus to hold my book. But I cannot 
 read for any length of time, whether from the motion 
 of the vessel or simple weakness. The letters always 
 dance before my eyes after a few minutes." 
 
 "It was thoughtless of me to forget that," Lady 
 Helen replied, compassionately. "If you can bear
 
 APHKODITE THALASSIA, 175 
 
 reading aloud, I am sure Alice will be too glad to 
 relieve your weariness so long as you can enjoy it." 
 
 Darcy answered courteously, but with something of 
 -doubt or indifference in his tone, which the mother 
 failed to understand. Looking to the daughter's face 
 for a confirmation of the offer, and unable to read the 
 expression he found there and which did not seem 
 exactly one of ready assent, the natural aversion of a 
 gentleman to accept a kindness burdensome to the 
 giver was strengthened by a half-conscious feeling of 
 pain at the young lady's seeming reluctance. 
 
 Lady Helen turned the conversation. 
 
 "I knew," she said, "long ago a family of your 
 name. Are you connected with the Darcies of Uls- 
 water?" 
 
 " My father," returned the young Lancer, " is Darcy 
 of Ulswater. We have, so far as I know, no connec- 
 tions of our own name either in England or France. 
 Our family has been all but exterminated on more 
 than one occasion ; for the last time in the French 
 Kevolution." 
 
 A very slight flush coloured the widow's pale face. 
 
 "I knew him, and," she added, after a moment's 
 pause, '^ esteemed him much, more than twenty years 
 a,go." 
 
 Whether she felt pain in the memory of an ac- 
 quaintance which, if furthered by her family, might 
 have been something more than acquaintance, when 
 she was a romantic girl of eighteen and easily im- 
 pressed by the tragic story attached to the name of a 
 neighbour who, though much older than herself, had 
 still retained all the grace and vigour of youth and all
 
 176 EEEANT. 
 
 the elegance and dignity of manner and bearing- 
 inherited from the old school of French gentilshommes 
 — or whether she simply feared to tire the invalid, 
 who, as she observed, replied to her remarks in a 
 somewhat feeble and hesitating voice. Lady Helen 
 passed on with her younger daughter. Alice lingered 
 behind. 
 
 "Mr. Darcy," she said, with an effort to overcome 
 the shyness, somewhat foreign to her usual manner, 
 evident in her downcast eyes and slightly deepening 
 colour, " if I can relieve your weariness in any way, 
 believe me I shall be most glad to do so." 
 
 His face brightened. "I did not like," he re]Dlied, "to 
 take advantage of your mother's offer while uncertain 
 whether it would not be troublesome to you. I never 
 liked to read aloud myself, and never did it well ; but 
 I was accustomed some time ago to listen to better 
 readers often and long in the winter evenings, and I 
 know how great an effort it is to those who don't like 
 it. But when you can and will read to me, without 
 making it a fatigue or a task to yourself, you could 
 do me no greater favour. My last eighteen months 
 have been so busy, so occupied either with active 
 duty or with the necessary study of my profession 
 and of the language, and," he added, after a moment's 
 hesitation, " with other work, that I have fallen 
 behind, even more than Anglo-Indians generally do, 
 in the literature of the day, and there are many of 
 the best books published within the last three or four 
 years that I have hardly seen. And more than that, 
 not a few of those which, though not twenty years 
 old, have already taken their places as English
 
 APHRODITE THALASSIA. 177 
 
 classics, which every educated man and woman except 
 myself seem to have at their fingers' ends, are strange 
 to me." 
 
 The girl still hesitated a moment to follow her 
 mother, half afraid, perhaps, to show her natural 
 interest in the invalid, half unwilling to leave him 
 alone while her j)resence evidently gratified him ; but 
 finding no excuse to remain, she was turning away, 
 when he held out his hand to detain her a moment. 
 
 "Hark ! " he said. " I have heard that song from 
 the forecastle more than once, and it makes a painful 
 impression on me, as so unlike what in other times 
 English sailors would have sung or listened to." 
 
 Alice had not heeded the earlier stanzas, and it 
 was a mere fragment that she now caught. • 
 
 " These news we bore to the Commodore o'er threescore leagues and 
 three ; 
 And Eric swore, by the Nailprints four, and bj Him who died on 
 
 tree, 
 For one chance more to pay his score, nine years he'd sweep the 
 
 sea: 
 On that ship accurst he'd wreak the worst, or bear the worst 
 
 might be, 
 Should he chase her thrice from the Northern ice to the heats of 
 
 Barbary ! 
 And whether she bore her flag of yore — would she fight, or strike, 
 
 or flee — 
 At her every spar he'd hang a tar of her crew that bravest be ; 
 From each hand alive strike fingers five, and blast the Captain's e'e, 
 Nail skull and crossbones at her fore, with a skeleton swinging free ; 
 And leave her a hundred leagues from shore, 
 With a hurricane blowing Nor'-East-by-Nor', 
 And no port but Hell a-lee ! " 
 
 The song was interrupted by a call from the boat- 
 swain, which summoned the singer and his European 
 messmates to assist in the duties of the Lascar seamen 
 who formed the majority of the crew. 
 
 VOL. I. N 
 
 /
 
 178 ERE ANT. 
 
 *' That," said Darcy, " shows the temper which I 
 am afraid pervades the whole nation at this time, and 
 which is not the least evil of the consequences of this 
 hateful war. That our men should be savagely vin- 
 dictive is natural, and that indulgence in vengeance 
 should increase the thirst of it is, I am afraid, equally 
 inevitable. But if anything could reconcile me to 
 being helpless and useless at such a time it is the 
 temper of our army, even of our officers, and still 
 more of civilians, and the nature of the war we are 
 waging." 
 
 " Do you call it revengeful ? " inquired Alice, her 
 eyes brightening, her face flushing with eager feeling. 
 ^' I suppose hatred, and a desire to see those who 
 have wronged us punished, can never be Christian. 
 But war itself is unchristian enough, and if human 
 nature might ever plead an excuse for such passions, 
 surely they are just and righteous now? I don't 
 think I can feel pity or mercy for my father's 
 murderers." 
 
 *' I cannot but think. Miss Kavanagh, that if you 
 had heard what I have heard of the talk even of our 
 officers, you would hardly speak as you do. I have 
 never answered hitherto, when I have heard our 
 women speak on this subject. They disgusted me so 
 that I could not trust myself to reply ; and it pains 
 me to hear you say what is but a very feeble reflection 
 of the savage sentiments which even those men who 
 share them hardly care, I think, to hear from feminine 
 lips." 
 
 The girl was not a little hurt as well as surprised by 
 the rebuke.
 
 APHRODITE THALASSIA. 179 
 
 "I thought," she answered, somewhat hastily, " that 
 you — whose part in the work of chastisment has been 
 the subject of so much praise in the very conversations 
 of which you complain — would be the last to speak so 
 tenderly of a race of mutineers and murderers, or to 
 compassionate the butchers of women and children." 
 
 An expression of deep pain passed over the young 
 soldier's features. 
 
 "Yes," he said, **I have hanged thieves and 
 scoundrels, I have shot the ringleaders in rebellion 
 freely enough, though I know my men have been on 
 every occasion disposed to murmur at my lenity ; and 
 if I had let them have their own way, they would, I 
 believe, not only have shed much innocent blood, but 
 become utterly demoralized. But when women nnd 
 girls talk of military vengeance, they talk of what 
 they don't understand ; and it is only by remembering 
 their ignorance that one can forgive their language." 
 
 Alice turned her face away; and, excited by the 
 subject, and perhaps through illness and the effect of 
 frequent and powerful opiates having lost something 
 of his usual self-control, the speaker went on — 
 
 " Do you know, have you any idea, what a war of 
 vengeance, a war in which no quarter can be given, 
 really means ? Can you fancy what it is to see men 
 who have fought to the last throw down their arms 
 and call for quarter, and be obliged to cut and shoot 
 them down like wild beasts ? Can you conceive what a 
 man's feelings are — not perhaps when, with the dead 
 bodies of women and children before him, he orders 
 the execution of a score of men who at any rate are 
 criminals, but when he must command the shooting
 
 180 EEEANT. 
 
 of prisoners in cold blood ; prisoners with wliom he 
 has just crossed swords, and who have fought as 
 bravely and as conscientiously as himself? or, again, 
 when he comes to reflect at night, perhaps on a bed of 
 sickness, on what he has done, and to ask himself 
 upon what evidence of guilt he has sent so many 
 fellow-creatures to their last account ? Do you know 
 that in such a war, and in such examples, as they are 
 called — such, for instance, as I myself made at Siva- 
 pore, and still believe I did well to make — we never 
 know how many of the victims are individually guilty ; 
 we cannot but feel, when we reflect on the matter in 
 cold blood, that probably one in five may have been 
 wholly innocent ? I say nothing of the blood shed 
 in battle ; though if you had looked on the slaughter 
 that took place so near you, I think the scene would 
 have been reproduced in your dreams for many a year 
 to come. But there is one act I can never forget, and 
 never bear to remember. When, in our return to 
 Kulwar from Sivapore, we cut our way through a 
 strong rebel force, the leader of that force, the man 
 who gave it courage and cohesion, as gallant a soldier 
 as I ever saw, was one who believed, as earnestly as 
 any Englishman believes in the righteousness of our 
 own cause, that he was serving God and his country 
 in taking arms against us. He fought like a hero. 
 My sword was crossed with his, and he would have 
 cut me down, when my men broke in, rescued me, and 
 made him prisoner. I ordered them to shoot him. 
 The man faced us calmly and bravely, and died as 
 Montrose or Derby died for their faith and King. 
 Every day that this war continues must see such 
 executions." .
 
 APHKODITE THALASSIA. 181 
 
 " Yes," retorted the girl, '* I heard of that and 
 thought it — well, I will not say what I thought ; but 
 I did not expect to be reproved for vindictive feeling 
 by the officer who ordered that — execution." 
 
 ''Pardon me," replied Darcy, sobered at once by 
 the pain and displeasure manifest in her tone even 
 more than in her words, *' if anything I have said has 
 sounded like reproof to you. But, Miss Kavanagh, 
 you spoke, and very naturally, of some whom you 
 cannot forgive. That man above all others, as I 
 afterwards learnt, was responsible for the attack on 
 the Eesidency and for all that happened there. Yet, 
 knowing that, and knowing that I only put in execu- 
 tion the law which punishes rebellion with death, I 
 cannot look back on that day without pain and some- 
 thing like shame ; and I don't complain of your reproof. 
 Perhaps, when you remember it, you will see that I 
 interpret your real feelings somewhat more truly than 
 yourself, if I say that a woman's desire of vengeance 
 means that she does not realize what military ven- 
 geance is. It is not the execution of men individually 
 or collectively guilty of actual crime, but of all who 
 are found in arms in the same cause with mutineers 
 and murderers. Now, there has scarcely ever been a 
 civil war in which both sides were not deeply stained 
 with such crimes ; yet there has seldom been a civil 
 war followed by executions in which history has not 
 condemned those executions, and fixed the sympathy 
 of all, whatever their ideas as to the rights of the 
 quarrel, on the victims and not on the executioners." 
 
 There was a pause. Darcy felt that he had said 
 enough and perhaps more than enough ; and Alice,
 
 182 • . EKKANT. 
 
 though neither by reply nor by a hasty departure did 
 she manifest resentment, showed no disposition to 
 continue the argument. For a moment she turned, 
 and bent on Darcy as he ended a look from eyes half 
 filled with tears, whose meaning, whether of pain or 
 of half submission to the force of the personal argu- 
 ment, he could not interpret. 
 
 The next day, however, when paying with her 
 mother and sister their morning visit of inquiry, she 
 had brought with her a couple of books, indicating 
 her readiness to confer the promised favour ; a willing- 
 ness the more acceptable that, as the invalid hoped, 
 it implied forgiveness of any offence that might have 
 been given by the warmth and freedom of his criticism. 
 After listening for some time with no little enjoyment, 
 as much of the ear as of the mind, to the sweet clear 
 tones that gave full and discriminating expression to 
 one of the most striking passages in a then newly 
 published volume of Macaulay, he took advantage of 
 a pause to renew their conversation. 
 
 "I had time — I have but too much time for think- 
 ing," he said, " to think over what I said yesterday ;; 
 and I must ask you to pardon what, after all, was 
 meant less as a reply to you than as the expression of 
 much that I have long and keenly felt and been 
 obliged to suppress. One is pretty sure to speak out 
 at last, if one has kept back long what one feels 
 strongly ; and to speak out probably not because any 
 sentence at the moment especially provokes one's 
 feeling, but to the person whose sympathy one would 
 like to have, and whose contrary opinion or sentiment 
 one feels most painfully. It was easier to me to bear
 
 APHRODITE THALASSIA. 183 
 
 downright ferocity talked by women of whom I knew 
 little and thought less, than to hear what reminded 
 me of their language from your lips. I know I spoke 
 inconsiderately ; perhaps I spoke rudely, for I cannot 
 remember all I said. But if I pained or offended you, 
 believe that I intended what you called reproof not 
 for yourself, but for those whose ideas I could not 
 endure that you should seem to share." 
 
 "I think," Alice replied, *'that in the main at least 
 you were right ; and certainly I was not offended. I 
 was glad to hear a soldier, who has proved that there 
 is neither wavering nor weakness in his mood, sxDeak 
 in such terms of enemies so savage. And you were 
 quite right in this ; that I spoke, as no doubt women 
 and girls do generally speak, of vengeance with little 
 idea of what it actually means. I don't suppose any 
 of us really wish that any but the guilty should suffer 
 for crimes, however atrocious, and however cruelly 
 they have wounded us." 
 
 Her lip quivered slightly as she spoke the last 
 words, which recalled a scene so horrible and a loss 
 so deeply and lastingly felt ; and, without directly 
 turning the subject, Daicy was glad to give it a 
 different tone. 
 
 "I trust," he added, more lightly, "you will forgive 
 me anything that seemed personal in my words when 
 you remember your own implied censure on me. I 
 am sure you would if you knew how keenly I felt that 
 censure, coming from you, and falling on the one act 
 which, if I cannot repent, I can never remember but 
 with pain." 
 
 " I am afraid," she returned, kindly, " that you
 
 184 ERRANT. 
 
 have too much time to think, as you call it, or as 
 I should say to brood, over the past ; or you would 
 hardly have given so much thought to a few foolish 
 words of mine." 
 
 " I am afraid. Miss Kavanagh, I should always find 
 time to reflect on anything you had said, especially in 
 the way of censure upon myself. But it is true that 
 I cannot help what you call brooding now. While in 
 active life and in health, I had trained myself to 
 command my own thoughts ; not to think either of a 
 past that could not be repaired, or of a future I could 
 not control." 
 
 " That must be difficult," the girl answered, with 
 some interest. "When one expects something 
 dangerous or unpleasant, one goes on thinking of it 
 and fearing it till one suffers probably much more in 
 the anticipation than in the reality; and that one 
 can't help it makes no difference whatever." 
 
 *•' Unless," Darcy returned, "a man makes up his 
 mind and sets himself resolutely to turn away from 
 such thoughts as often as they repeat themselves. It 
 is a difficult art, and takes long and resolute practice. 
 But I fancy, if one means to act vigorously and keep 
 one's strength of mind and nerve for action, one must 
 acquire it. But now, with nothing to do and weak, 
 and, I think, affected by Dr. Browne's opiates — I have 
 been told that opium always weakens the will — my 
 thoughts go not as I will, but cling round the scenes 
 and memories not that impressed me most at the 
 time, but that seem to have left the clearest picture 
 behind. I should like to think of England and what 
 is before me there ; but always when I try to picture
 
 APHRODITE THALASSIA. 185 
 
 my home, my father and sister, the cave-temple, the 
 devastation of Sivapore, and other scenes of my 
 Indian Hfe, reproduce themselves before my eyes 
 instead." 
 
 "Your thoughts must naturally turn," she replied, 
 ''to a quarter in ^Yhich so much is still pending, in 
 which you yourself have played a part, and in which 
 you, even more than the rest of us, must be so deeply 
 interested ; and I suppose you cannot but long to be 
 sharing with your comrades the hard and glorious 
 task from which you have been withdrawn ? " 
 
 " I don't know," he answered, doubtfully. " Putting 
 aside what I said yesterday of the nature of our war- 
 fare, I am ashamed to say it, but — I am not sure that 
 my experience has not made a coward of me." 
 
 ''Mr. Darcy ! " cried Alice, indignantly, "no one 
 else would dare to say or to fancy such a thing ; and 
 if you really fancy it, it is because your nerves are 
 shaken and your mind saddened by pain and rest- 
 lessness." 
 
 " I don't know. One doesn't realize what severe 
 wounds mean till one has tried. I don't feel sure 
 that it will be so pleasant to face a heavy fire again 
 now I know what is meant by the probe — the surgeon's 
 work is worse than the enemy's, and the worst of a 
 bullet is the cutting it out — or that the flash of steel 
 will be quite so exciting and exhilarating, when it will 
 remind me of weeks during which I have had no 
 freedom from torture except what I have owed to 
 opium. At any rate, it is not military ambition that 
 turns my thoughts back so constantly to India." 
 
 His companion coloured a little, and turned her head
 
 186 ERKANT. 
 
 away. After a short pause, she took up her other 
 book, a volume of Tennyson. Darcy Hstened with even 
 greater enchantment than before as she read that one 
 of the Laureate's poems which is most enjoyed by 
 readers so young as they, perhaps least liked or 
 approved by his elder admirers. 
 
 "You delight in 'Locksley Hall,'" she said, after 
 receiving his warm thanks, and listening to one or 
 two comments displaying no very remarkable critical 
 perception. "Is it partly the heroine's name that 
 gives you a special interest in it ? " 
 
 " Not exactly," he answered, with a smile. " The 
 name is dearer to me than any other ; but it has no 
 such associations for me as the poem suggests." 
 
 The slight flush on Alice's cheek might have been 
 called up by maiden consciousness of the pardonable 
 imprudence of her question, or by pleasure in the latter 
 part of his reply ; but it suggested nothing to Darcy's 
 youthful inexperience. 
 
 "Did you know, then," he asked, "my sister's 
 name ? Or what could put into your head the idea 
 that that name had special associations for me ? " 
 
 " Your sister ! " the girl said, with a little start ; 
 then paused in some confusion, half aware that to an 
 observant eye and ear she would have betrayed, 
 though hardly conscious of it herself, the purport 
 of her question. 
 
 " Yes," replied Darcy, " a sister — except my father, 
 almost the only companion of my life till I joined the 
 Lancers. But if you did not know that, how came 
 you to fancy that the name was interesting to me? 
 In truth, while you read, it hardly struck me ; and I
 
 APHKODITE THALASSIA. 187 
 
 certainly was not conscious of connecting the heroine 
 with my Amy." 
 
 It was with no small difficulty that Alice made a 
 confession of which she felt not a little ashamed. 
 
 " Simply," she said, "because, when you were first 
 recovering consciousness after your fall, that was the 
 name you spoke, fancying, I suppose, that you were 
 at home, and asking her to take the bandage from 
 your head." 
 
 "Ah!" he returned, "Amy has sat by me and 
 bathed my head with eau-de-Cologne through many a 
 fit of headache almost as bad as that was. It is 
 strange that, dearer than all else in the world as she 
 is to me, my thoughts dwell so little on her and my 
 home, and so much on India." 
 
 "And," suggested Alice, in a somewhat hesitating 
 tone, "perhaps on some one there almost as dear to 
 you as Amy." 
 
 Darcy bit his lip. " No, Miss Kavanagh," he said, 
 in a changed tone, distinctly cold and betraying a 
 slight shade of annoyance, "if Zela be dear to me, it 
 is certainly, though of course in a much less degree, 
 as Amy is dear ; as a younger sister for whom I have 
 had much trouble and taken much interest, and for 
 whose future I feel not a little anxious. But to know 
 that Zela is safe and happy is all I care. Knowing 
 that, it would not grieve me for an hour to know, 
 what is certainly most likely, that I shall never see 
 her again." 
 
 Perhaps a half-conscious sensation of pleasure in 
 hearing this assurance and the tone in which it was 
 given, an intuitive self-reproach for the unavowed
 
 188 ' ERRANT. 
 
 jealousy that had prompted the suggestion, led Alice, 
 provoked with herself, to turn, with a mixture of 
 feminine injustice and a maiden's instinct of self- 
 defence, upon one who she thought might have read 
 the feelings she would not own to herself. 
 
 " Then, Mr. Darcy," she said, looking him full in 
 the face, though after a moment her eyes sank before 
 those whose steady look met her own, "you have 
 hardly used Zela kindly or rightly. Did it never 
 occur to you that you might be teaching your pupil a 
 lesson that, if you cared so little for her, it was un- 
 generous and cruel to let her learn ? " 
 
 Such a rebuke, coming from so young a girl, not a 
 little startled Darcy ; but, fortunately for the speaker, 
 his conscience, disturbed by the remarks of others 
 rather than by any observation of his own, so far 
 seconded the reproach as to concentrate his thought 
 upon its justice rather than upon the motives that 
 had prompted its utterance. 
 
 "No, Miss Kavanagh," he replied quietly, though 
 with an inward uneasiness and a slight flush of which 
 he was conscious but which he could not repress. 
 "Why and how I came to take a special interest, first 
 in Zela's mother and afterwards in the child herself, 
 it would be long to tell — impossible to tell you fully. 
 I should be sorry to think that in undertaking the 
 instruction of one who could find no other teacher to 
 give her the very elements of English and Christian 
 education, I had done so cruel an injury where I 
 intended pure and simple kindness. Putting age and 
 race aside, I should think any other than childish or 
 -sisterly affection on Zela's part as impossible as on
 
 APHEODITE THALASSIA. 189 
 
 my own. A pupil more than half a child, at any rate 
 when our lessons began, is as little likely to find the 
 peace of her after life disturbed by affection for her 
 tutor as an English gentleman to fall in love with 
 her." 
 
 The conversation had reached a point at which 
 neither wished to continue it, and her mother's 
 appearance on deck afforded Alice a welcome excuse 
 for retreating from a controversy it was almost as 
 difficult to break off without awkwardness as to con- 
 tinue with propriety. There was indeed for the next 
 day or two some constraint, on her part at least, in 
 the intercourse between them. She could not, how- 
 ever, withdraw, without attracting her mother's notice 
 and inquiries, the attentions on which the invalid had 
 become dependent; and as Darcy made no further 
 reference to the matter, and indeed forbore to speak 
 of India and their common Indian recollections, the 
 discomfort which Alice felt in recalling her own 
 rebuke and his reply gradually wore away. The 
 readings brought her into daily tete-a-tete conversation 
 with the young officer ; and his services to her and 
 her family — the peculiar experiences which, shared 
 together, had rendered an acquaintance of a few 
 weeks to the feelings of both as intimate as under 
 other circumstances might have been one^ of years — 
 as well as his real dependence upon her for the 
 relief of the weariness of illness, afforded the young 
 girl an excuse perfectly satisfactory to her own half- 
 conscious doubts, as well as to her mother's judg- 
 ment, for the continuance of intercourse which became 
 daily more frank and unrestrained.
 
 190 ERKANT. 
 
 CHAPTEK XII. 
 
 GUERDON. 
 
 " A grace to me ! 
 I am your warrior ; I and mine have fought 
 Your battle." 
 
 At Alexandria Von Arnheim took leave of his friend. 
 "You can do without me now," he said, "since 
 you can almost sit up, and Afzul can render you all 
 the active services you still require ; and you will not 
 miss my company as you might have done if you had 
 not earned a claim to attentions naturally much more 
 agreeahle as well as more flattering than those of a 
 middle-aged comrade. But, Darcy, don't spoil your 
 career, even for something more and better than one 
 of the loveliest and noblest faces I ever saw in so 
 young a girl. You need not exalt Miss Kavanagh's 
 qualities to me, or excuse your admiration by assert- 
 ing for her all the merits that the romance of first 
 love can find in its object. I grant you that she has 
 a spirit and a mind worthy of her beauty, and worthy 
 of all the chivalric devotion that you would like to 
 give her, and will give to any woman with whom you 
 may hereafter fall in love. But you will make too 
 good a soldier to be spoilt ; and a soldier who marries
 
 GUERDON. 191 
 
 before his career and his position are made is, espe- 
 cially in your service, generally spoilt. Your chances 
 of distinction will lie on the wild frontiers of your 
 colonies, in China, in India, everywhere where a wife 
 must be a serious encumbrance, especially to a junior 
 officer, and whither a wife's family will not care to 
 see her taken. I should be very sorry to hear that 
 you were married before you are in command of your 
 regiment ; and you know better than I how long an 
 interval separates you from that position." 
 
 " There are better reasons than those you give," 
 said Darcy, speaking with tolerable cheerfulness, 
 though with an effort perceptible to his experienced 
 companion. "What a German soldier would con- 
 sider a competence on which to marry, I don't know ; 
 but I know that I have not and need never look to have 
 what I could offer to any lady whose hand I could 
 ask. And though I might, probably should, hold the 
 prize you so depreciate far higher than any that, even 
 if I can resume it, my profession could possibly offer, 
 it is one to which as things actually stand I could not 
 presume to aspire." 
 
 " Ach so ; I understand ! Well, you'll suffer cruelly 
 for a while, and it is useless to tell you that twenty 
 years hence you will think as I do. But a hopeless 
 or disappointed love is a better thing than a hamper- 
 ing marriage. I don't see, though, how it can be, 
 even in England, presumptuous for the heir of two 
 great historic families, French and English, to 
 aspire to a younger grandchild of one whose peerage 
 dates subsequently to the attainder of your own. We 
 at any rate should think an Earl of George II. 's
 
 192 EREANT. 
 
 making honoured by an alliance with the House of 
 Ultramar." 
 
 " There is another obstacle," replied Darcy, trying 
 to speak lightly, but unable to conceal the suppressed 
 bitterness of his tone. ''A Prince may kneel to a 
 lady, and I should feel myself more nearly the equal 
 of most Princesses than of Miss Kavanagh ; a man 
 without birth or fortune may now and then win the 
 assent of noble and wealthy parents ; but my father's 
 son could not stoop, even for her sake, to affect less 
 than social equality with her grandfather — could not 
 win even her hand through the tone and attitude in 
 which alone I could hope successfully to sue for it." 
 
 " Spoken like a French Legitimist or a German of 
 sixteen quarterings," returned his friend, smiling, 
 " I did not think so much pride of birth still lingered 
 among your English noblesse. But if that pride cost 
 you nothing more than a bitter disappointment, and 
 a void at heart which you will be eager to fill with 
 active service, so much the better. Well, good-bye; 
 write to me at Cairo to report your safe landing in 
 England. They are ready to carry you down to the 
 last boat, and the steamer has weighed anchor 
 already. Have you heard from home since we landed 
 here ? " 
 
 "No," replied Darcy. "They say that the out- 
 ward-bound steamer with the English mails has been 
 delayed, and the Captain of the Europa will not wait 
 for her. I wish I had heard. I have received no 
 letter from home since those I got at Calcutta, which 
 were sent before they heard of the outbreak at 
 Sivapore, all save one short note from my sister.
 
 GUEKDON. 193 
 
 written just after the news of that outbreak reached 
 them, and while they were in intense anxiety to know 
 what had become of myself." 
 
 " Au revoir f said the Count, earnestly; indeed, 
 with an emphasis on the commonplace which he 
 remembered with a kind of superstitious awe in much 
 later years ; as if the involuntary stress laid on the 
 words had been ominous of the circumstances under 
 which the wish was fulfilled. 
 
 The absence of the comrade to whom he had been 
 so much indebted left Darcy more dependent than 
 ever on the attentions of Alice Kavanagh ; the more 
 so that her mother, declining faster and faster under 
 the shock from whose effects she had never recovered, 
 and suffering apparently more in mind and body as 
 the moment approached when her landing in England 
 must recal the terrible change that had taken place 
 in her life, appeared less and less upon deck. He 
 had another friend, but one whose kindness, eagei*ly 
 proffered with absolute simplicity and innocence, he 
 did not care to encourage. Minnie Thomson had 
 taken a strong childish liking, not so much perhaps 
 for the officer who had 'rescued her and her sister 
 from a peril of whose magnitude and character she 
 was unconscious, as for him who during all the 
 terrible days of the siege, during the weariness of 
 their long confinement in the semi-darkness of the 
 caverns, had never forgotten for a single day to visit 
 them ; and had on no occasion failed to notice the 
 little ones, among the youngest and most delicate 
 of the sufferers, to whom the very enmity he bore 
 their father gave a stronger claim on his especial 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 1 94 EREANT. 
 
 and scrupulous consideration. But, his resentment 
 against the father unsoftened, Darcy shrank from the 
 continuance of an intimacy with the children which 
 could hardly fail to bring him into relations almost 
 friendly with their parents. The wrong and even the 
 insult to himself he would probably have been willing 
 to overlook, his pride more than satisfied by the ser- 
 vices imposed though by mere chance upon his enemy ; 
 but the wrong to one so helpless and so innocent as 
 Zela rankled bitterly in his spirit, and had so con- 
 vinced him of the utter meanness and worthlessness 
 of the offender as to render the idea of friendly inter- 
 course with a thoroughly despicable character hateful 
 and intolerable to him. If he could not be actually 
 unkind to one so sweetly and innocently grateful — 
 and it was not in Darcy's nature to be unkind to a 
 child — if he could not repel or receive with deliberate 
 coldness the affectionate inquiries and caresses of the 
 little girl, he had managed so far to avoid or with- 
 draw from them that in the confusion of landing he 
 trusted to escape any farewell that would attract the 
 parents' attention ; and in the strangeness and excite- 
 ment of their return the children would speedily for- 
 get their friend of the cave temple and the voyage — 
 forget even that question which Minnie had repeated 
 more than once or twice, whether he were not the 
 officer who had carried them out of the flames. 
 
 The Mediterranean voyage, through a mild and 
 genial climate, did much to favour Darcy's convales- 
 cence, a convalescence which he was perhaps in no 
 hurry to avow even to himself, or to manifest by pre- 
 mature exertion. The privileges of illness were too
 
 GUEKDON. 195 
 
 precious to be readily relinquished ; and the surgeon, 
 aware that months must elapse before the effect on 
 the sufferer's constitution of wounds so severe and 
 fatigues so prolonged could be repaired, was by no 
 means anxious to stimulate his patient to unwilling 
 efforts. Still the invalid was able to sit up, supported 
 by pillows, before the vessel passed the Straits of 
 Gibraltar ; and suffered less than might have been ex- 
 pected from the colder weather of the Atlantic, grow- 
 ing rougher and chiller every day with the northward 
 progress of the ship. 
 
 " Miss Kavanagh," said the doctor one morning 
 to Alice, who, well wrapped against the rough breeze 
 and the spray that every now and then broke upon 
 the vessel, took her usual walk on deck, " I am jaalf 
 sorry to see you turning out, though the air will do 
 you nothing but good. My patient has no business 
 on deck to-day, and if you would condescend to shrink 
 from the weather I think I might get him back to the 
 saloon he ought not to have left." 
 
 The young lady was more annoyed than gratified 
 by the implied recognition of her influence, perhaps 
 mortified a little by the brightening colour of which 
 she was not unconscious. 
 
 "It would be hard on Mr. Darcy to leave him to 
 himself, because he likes the fresh air as well as I ; 
 and if you cannot enforce your own orders. Doctor, 
 you must not expect me to assist you." 
 
 Darcy reclined this time under the lee of the funnel, 
 as well sheltered as ever by the care of his servant 
 and of the sailors, who had treated the invalid almost 
 from the first with characteristic kindness and con^
 
 196 ERKANT. 
 
 sideration; the more eagerly volunteered as tlieir 
 acquaintance lengthened, and they were touched and 
 gratified by the frank courtesy with which, however 
 ill or suffering, the invalid never failed to acknowledge 
 and remember each little service rendered to him, and 
 recognize the renderer in future. As Alice approached 
 unseen the carefully arranged couch facing the bow,, 
 she saw that Minnie was standing by its side. 
 
 " Mr. Darcy," said the child, " have I been naughty^ 
 or vexed you ? You were so kind to me and Fanny 
 in those caves, when you were so busy that you could 
 scarcely spare half an hour in the day; and now, 
 when you have nothing to do, I always seem to tease 
 you." 
 
 It would have been a hard, unfeeling temper that 
 could resist the frank and simple appeal. 
 
 " I am ashamed, Minnie, if I have been cross to 
 you. No, you are very good, you never tease me ; 
 and even Fanny, though she is not so careful as you 
 are, has never hurt me since the first time she 
 stumbled over my right arm. Thank you," as the 
 child lifted to his lips the glass which his wounded 
 arm was still unable to hold steadily, and with the 
 other hand he caressed the long bright locks flying 
 loose in the breeze. " You will know some day how 
 irritable invalids are apt to be, and will not think they 
 mean to be unkind because they are silent or speak 
 sharply." 
 
 " Then you are friends with me ? " Minnie asked, 
 looking into his face with a glance half doubtful, half 
 glad, and full of simple gratitude and affection. 
 
 "Always, Minnie. But you will not care to listen
 
 GUEKDON. 197 
 
 to Miss Kavanagh's reading, and you must not disturb 
 her." 
 
 " Let me stay by you. I will be quiet," the child 
 entreated, as Darcy held out for the first time his 
 right hand to the visitor who had now come within 
 his sight. But at this moment the bell that summoned 
 the children to their separate meals was struck, and 
 called the little one away. 
 
 " I hope," said Alice, ''you have set Minnie's little 
 heart at rest ? I have not ventured to remonstrate 
 with you, knowing that children must be troublesome 
 in sickness ; but I have been sorry more than once 
 when I have seen the tears in her eyes as she left you ; 
 and it did not seem like you to hurt even a child's 
 feelings." 
 
 " Less a child's," answered Darcy, " than any one's 
 — and I had no idea that I had really given Minnie 
 pain." 
 
 "I thought you liked her till we came on board. 
 During the siege, she seemed your favourite among all 
 the children, and she is a sweet little creature." 
 
 " Yes, and it has always gone against me not to 
 make much of her. But, Miss Kavanagh, her father 
 and I are something more than unfriends, and I don't 
 want the child's affection to interfere with our 
 quarrels." 
 
 " I could not have thought," the girl answered, in a 
 tone of indignant reproach, " that you could bear 
 malice against a child for her father's faults, what- 
 ever they may be." 
 
 ''You are very hard upon me. Miss Kavanagh," 
 Darcy answered, more of pain perceptible in the tone
 
 198 ERKANT. 
 
 than in the words. "If Major Thomson thinks he 
 has reason to hate me or resent what I have done, 
 can I wish that he should be compelled to suppress 
 his ill-will, because his child might tell him of things 
 for which he would feel himself under an unwelcome 
 obligation to a personal enemy ? " 
 
 *^ I understand; and I ought to have understood 
 without being told," Alice replied, faintly. 
 
 She had been reading aloud for some half-hour, 
 when at a convenient pause she laid down her book. 
 
 "I think I am wearying you, Mr. Darcy, to-day. 
 You have hardly taken in what I have read for the 
 last ten minutes. Nay, don't try to excuse yourself ! 
 I saw the paroxysm of pain that diverted your atten- 
 tion." 
 
 "It is true, Miss Kavanagh, but I did not the less 
 enjoy your reading ; as one enjoys music even if one 
 is not absorbed in listening to it." 
 
 "A very courteous excuse, and very prettily said," 
 laughed the girl; "but it would flatter my vanity 
 more mischievously if the compliment were a little 
 more original." 
 
 " I should not presume. Miss Kavanagh, to offer 
 you the commonplaces of compliment. I spoke the 
 literal truth; and if such a compliment would be 
 trite, the reality which I ventured to acknowledge is 
 anything but a common one. Very few feminine 
 voices even in early youth are really musical, though 
 it be the fashion to call them so. Women's tones are 
 habitually sharp and shrill as the fiddle, as men's 
 are no less often rougher than the bagpipes. But I 
 have heard my father say that our two greatest
 
 GUERDON. 199 
 
 orators are worth hearing even if you are angered 
 by every word they speak ; the one voice having all 
 the power and compass of the organ, the other the 
 peal of a trumpet. So there are ladies whose voices 
 in reading or talking are so sweet and soft that it 
 would be a pleasure to hear them even in an un- 
 known tongue ; voices that soothe pain or irritation 
 into a calm as delicious as that produced by physical 
 opiates. Miss Kavanagh, if I forgot the author's 
 sense, I was not for a moment insensible to the 
 reader's tones." 
 
 The comparison was too quaint and frank, the 
 explanation too simply earnest, to seem mere compli- 
 ment or apology. The gratification with which Alice 
 heard it was not wholly due to her natural pleasure 
 in the well-deserved praise bestowed on a voice of 
 really rare beauty. The reverent earnestness that 
 seemed almost to entreat her belief in her own 
 praises, implying a respect that dared not flatter, 
 gave at least half its value to a tribute she enjoyed 
 much more than she would have cared to own. 
 
 *^You were evidently in pain," she said softly, 
 modestly ignoring the personal homage, "but you 
 have always wished me to go on and take no notice 
 when I can do nothing for you." 
 
 " These returns of pain are sharp enough," he 
 answered, "but fewer and shorter every day. This 
 one recalled to me what I suffered when I was weak 
 enough to complain to you. You have made me daily 
 more and more ashamed of that complaint." 
 
 " I, Mr. Darcy ! " she exclaimed in surprise. 
 " Surely I have said nothing so false to my own
 
 200 EKEANT. 
 
 thought, so ungenerous to one who endured so much 
 and so bravely in our cause ? " 
 
 Her wondering self-reproach gave to her look and 
 words a warmth, an eagerness of sympathy whereof 
 she was wholly unconscious. 
 
 "No, indeed," returned Darcy; "but you have 
 made me feel how little cause I had to compain. 
 The pain was atrocious. I had, and I fancy even 
 soldiers who have never been wounded have, very 
 little idea what it is. But if I had known how it was 
 to be compensated, I should have been poor-spirited 
 indeed to have grudged it." 
 
 "Ah, yes!" said Alice, instinctively evading the 
 meaning she instinctively apprehended. "You will 
 prize the honour you have earned, the soldierly rewards 
 they all say are awaiting you, as keenly as a soldier 
 should ; and, more than even your Sovereign's recog- 
 nition of your service, and the praise of your chiefs, 
 you will feel your father's, your sister's, pride in such 
 a son and brother. I have often wished to repeat to 
 you, if I could have ventured, what people say of the 
 defence of Kulwar by so young an officer. I am so 
 glad to listen to it ; but " 
 
 A sudden access of self-consciousness checked the 
 impulsive self-betrayal. Darcy had listened very 
 coldly till then; but the words that revealed her 
 personal interest in his fame called to eyes that 
 showed no pleasure in fame itself a momentary gleam 
 of passionate delight, which he could not conceal and 
 she could not face. 
 
 "You must be glad," Alice continued, after a 
 pause, "to be so near home. Are you not counting
 
 GUERDON. 201 
 
 the days to the end of this long voyage, so full of pain 
 and weariness for you, as I used to count the days at 
 school when the holidays were near ? " 
 
 " No, indeed ! Since I called it wearisome you 
 have never allowed me to feel it so. Miss Kavanagh, 
 no words I could find could tell you how grateful I am 
 for your kindness ; how pleasant you have made the 
 confinement and helplessness I thought so irksome. 
 Believe me that I speak the simple literal truth, if 
 I tell you what thought was in my mind when it 
 w^andered from your reading. I remembered bitterly 
 how soon I should listen to it for the last time ; and, 
 when you laid down your book, I was wishing that 
 our voyage might begin again, with thrice the pain I 
 thought so intolerable till I learnt how cheap a price 
 it was for the privilege of your presence and your 
 sympathy." 
 
 ** You forget," she answered, with much emotion in 
 her tone, and feeling even more than found expression 
 in voice and manner, " you forget how your wounds 
 were received. We should be little worthy of all men 
 do and suffer for us, if we could grudge anything we 
 can do to soothe or relieve the torture and to wile 
 the tedium of wounds or sickness incurred on our 
 behalf. How could I — could any of us — but be eager 
 to do all the very little we are allowed to lighten the 
 suffering, to cheer the loneliness, of one who so 
 nearly and so willingly gave his life for ours ? " 
 
 *' Misg Kavanagh," rejoined Darcy after a few 
 moments, earnestly but with evident and constantly 
 increasing hesitation, *' you have dwelt more than 
 once on the consequences of that chance which
 
 202 ERRANT. 
 
 placed me, instead of another, at the head of the 
 party sent to your aid at the Residency. It happened 
 that the opportunity of serving you was given to me. 
 If I had acted by choice and not under orders, if I 
 had done more than merely fulfil the duty on which I 
 was sent, your kindness has rewarded me far beyond 
 what any soldier's service can deserve. But if you 
 please to think that that chance has given me any 
 sort of claim to your consideration, to special recog- 
 nition of the simple fact that it happened to be my 
 duty to defend you and yours . . . forgive me if I 
 presume on that good fortune. The privileges of 
 chivalry are as obsolete as its virtues, or li might dare 
 to remind you that a lady's defender was allowed to 
 ask a favour from her, and that she was entitled to 
 reward his service." 
 
 His eager earnestness, and the deferential reserve 
 and delicacy that held it in check, gave to his plead- 
 ing, at least for Alice's ears, the force of true senti- 
 ment ; or her own poetic spirit sympathized with the 
 genuine romance of feeling that inspired a romance 
 of language congenial to the extreme youth of both. 
 She strove in vain to smile and not to blush, as she 
 replied, in a tone that failed to harmonize with the 
 apparent levity of her first sentence — 
 
 "It would be hard to refuse to one who has shown 
 the daring and the modesty of chivalry the privilege 
 he thinks it worth while to claim. But seriously, 
 Mr. Darcy, if there be anything you wish that is in 
 my power, if I — if we can do anything for one who 
 has done so much for us — you know, you cannot but 
 know, there is nothing you could ask that it would 
 not grieve me — grieve us — to refuse."
 
 GUEKDON. 203 
 
 She had abandoned the effort to jest with the 
 appealing eagerness more evident in his countenance 
 than even in his speech ; and her conckiding words 
 were faltered in tones as low and hesitating as his 
 own. As even women are prone to do, ere the habit 
 of self-control has been taught by time and dis- 
 cipline, she sought instinctively, under the increasing 
 embarrassment of half-awakened self-consciousness, 
 some relief in the restless, purposeless movement of 
 her small, slender, exquisitely beautiful hands — move- 
 ment that would have spoken very expressively to an 
 eye more experienced than Darcy's. In leaving her 
 cabin she had carelessly wrapped round her insuffi- 
 ciently protected neck a slight scarf, which, thus hastily 
 caught up, chanced to contrast signally, in its mixtnre 
 of black and scarlet hues, her deep mourning dress. 
 The colour caught Darcy's eye ; and as she uncon- 
 sciously disengaged the kerchief from her throat, he 
 gently laid hold upon it, timidly touching at the 
 same time the fingers that played nervously with its 
 threads as her hands dropped into her lap. 
 
 *' I dare not ask what I should most dearly prize," 
 he murmured, unaware of the passionate tenderness 
 in his tone and look, as half unconscious of the feeling, 
 deeper than that of mere chivalrous devotion and 
 personal admiration, that inspired ! them ; "but give 
 me this — it will ever be precious to me because I have 
 seen you wear it — not as reward for a duty already 
 overpaid, but as a memorial of weeks you have 
 rendered the happiest in my life." 
 
 Alice rather permitted him to take than, by look or 
 gesture of assent, gave him the gage he asked. Too
 
 204 EKKANT. 
 
 young to understand his feelings or her own, uncon- 
 scious even of those instincts of maiden reserve in 
 obedience to which she shrank from the novel warmth 
 and vehemence of both, she instantly reproached 
 herself with unkind, ungrateful coldness ; thinking 
 herself guilty of an ungracious half-granting of that 
 which had been asked with gracious courtesy and 
 considerate respect. Yielding to the impulse of a 
 nature essentially generous and affectionate, and as 
 yet innocent of any conscious feeling stronger and 
 more disturbing than esteem, sympathy, and gratitude, 
 she bent with deepening colour and drooping eyes 
 over the invalid, and her voice sank to a whisper — 
 
 "What is it you 'wish for but dare not ask'? 
 Mr. Darcy, you would not wish to ask what I should 
 be sorry hereafter to have given." 
 
 Not unnatural surely to the noblest, most absolute 
 purity of maidenhood, the simple faith that spoke 
 in xilice Kavanagh's words and look of appeal ; and 
 probably half the inexplicable shipwrecks of maiden 
 honour may be traced in the first instance to such 
 faith misplaced. She started slightly as the boy- 
 soldier, with reverent lightness of touch, held for one 
 moment between his fingers the loose tress of rich 
 brown hair, tinged here and there with gold, that, as 
 she leaned over him, escaped from its confinement 
 and almost brushed his cheek. But instantly, in the 
 impulse of frank kindliness, she severed the curl he 
 claimed ; and as he caught it in one hand, the other 
 clasped that which rested on his pillow with a closer, 
 stronger, longer pressure than it had ever yet ventured. 
 An instinct as unaccountable to himself as her incon-
 
 GUEKDON. 205 
 
 sistent impulses were to the young maiden restrained 
 the movement, prompted by chivalrous associations 
 and native courtesy, that would have raised the 
 slender, gloved fingers to his lips. Accepting the clasp 
 as their usual farewell, and answering it with one 
 even briefer and slighter than usual, the girl rose 
 quickly; seizing an apparent opportunity to reach 
 her cabin without exposing her tell-tale colour and 
 the tears that trembled in her eyes to the notice of 
 any lounging fellow-passenger : eager to conceal and 
 calm in solitude the mingled emotions of feminine 
 pride, gratified affection, or maiden shame that she 
 herself could not discriminate or interpret — that most 
 surely no masculine pen should attempt to analyze.
 
 206 ERRANT. 
 
 CHAPTEE XIII. 
 
 PLAUDITE ! 
 
 " Wlio o'er the crowd would wish to reign, 
 Fantastic, fickle, fierce, and vain." 
 
 There was no little excitement in Southampton when 
 the Europa was signalled. It was known that she 
 had on board more than one invalided soldier who 
 had rendered distinguished service in the first and 
 most terrible days of the Mutiny ; many women who 
 had suffered terrors and perils that for their sake 
 brave men shuddered to remember. It was rumoured, 
 moreover, that some had endured still graver wrongs 
 and physical injuries, the very report of which had 
 maddened the temper of the entire nation. Not one 
 woman, so far as authentic history records, returned 
 to screen from the eyes of her countrymen the mutila- 
 tions imputed to a savagery that needed no exaggera- 
 tion. But the passions of the people had been wrought 
 up to a pitch of extraordinary excitement by such 
 reports ; and the vessel's arrival was awaited with 
 feelings as intense as if she brought the tidings of a 
 critical battle and the dead body of the hero who had 
 won it ; as eagerly as the Victory when she brought 
 the news of Trafalgar and the coffin of Nelson.
 
 PLAUDITE ! 207 
 
 Warned of the confusion and excitement that would 
 j)revail when the first boat from the land should board 
 her, and continue till the last passenger had landed, 
 those who shrank from observation, like Lady Helen 
 and her daughters, or, like Darcy, knew themselves 
 unable to make their way through eager crowds, had 
 already made their last arrangements and taken leave 
 of their companions. The young Lancer had sought 
 refuge in his cabin from the confusion sure to prevail 
 on deck, when, as the cheers from the first approach- 
 ing boat reached his ears, a gentle tap at the door 
 entreated admission for Minnie and her little sister. 
 
 " They would scarcely let us come to say good-bye," 
 the child said. "But I would not go without seeing 
 you. Do tell me now — was it not you that pulled us 
 out of the fire ? I asked Afzul there, but he pretended 
 not to understand. I know he did, though ; for when 
 the Captain spoke to him in English the next minute, 
 he understood and answered, though he spoke very 
 badly." 
 
 " How should Afzul know ?" replied Darcy, evading 
 the question with a smile and a kiss. '' Good-bye, little 
 one ; your mother is sure to be looking for you with 
 the first boat that boards us, and you must not loiter 
 here, lest you might be lost in the confusion." 
 
 Minnie lingered, unwilling to depart and anxious 
 to repeat her question; but her more eager and 
 excitable sister here interrupted her. 
 
 "There, Minnie; I am sure that was mamma's 
 voice ! Now come, be quick ! " 
 
 The elder child hesitated, started, and then, turning 
 back for a moment, threw her arms round her friend's
 
 208 EEEANT. 
 
 neck, and pressed an eager but silent kiss upon his 
 lips before she allowed herself to be hurried away- 
 The vessel was nearly empty when Darcy permitted 
 his servant and one of the seamen to assist him 
 to the deck. Placed for a few minutes in a chair 
 till arrangements could be made for lowering him into 
 the boat that hung alongside, tossed up and down by 
 the somewhat rough water, his eye fell on three well- 
 known figures in deep mourning, who were already 
 about to descend the ladder at the foot of which 
 another and larger boat awaited them. At the last 
 moment Alice Kavanagh turned and looked around, 
 and as she caught sight of him waved her white 
 handkerchief in farewell ; then gave her hand to the 
 gentleman who had already handed her sister and her 
 mother to the boat. Darcy had risen as well as he- 
 could to return her salute, and his eyes were fixed on 
 her vanishing form so intently that it was not till she 
 had disappeared that he looked round, and saw what 
 gave him a sudden and terrible shock of surprise and 
 alarm. A young girl, attended by an elderly female 
 servant, both dressed in deep mourning, had raised 
 her veil of crape as she looked anxiously around for 
 some one among the few remaining passengers. Her 
 likeness to Darcy, as striking as often exists between 
 twins, her stature, but a few inches less than his own, 
 her features, and even their expression, reproducing 
 in exact detail those with which Afzul had been long 
 familiar, assured the latter, who now approached his 
 master, that it was Darcy's sister who was seeking 
 but had not recognized her invalid brother. Darcy 
 himself was too utterly surprised by a presence he had
 
 PLAIJDITE ! 209 
 
 never expected, too much appalled by the tidings 
 implied in the sable dresses, to make any attempt by 
 voice or sign to attract her notice. The girl was very 
 near him before she recognized, with a start of alarm, 
 the worn face, the wasted and helpless form of one 
 whom she had last seen in the full vigour of youth 
 and health. Already shaken by the loss for which 
 she wore her deep mourning, and the effect of which 
 on nerves and spirit was revealed in the dimness of 
 her beautiful eyes, the darkness of the drooping lids, 
 and the tremulous lip, the shock given by the unex- 
 pected sight of her brother's figure altogether over- 
 powered her. The embrace was on both sides long 
 and speechless ; and the sister's almost hysterical 
 sobs and passionate weeping made it impossible* for 
 her to give any other reply to Lionel's first eager but 
 scarcely articulate question. 
 
 ** Yes," she faltered at last, "he lived to hear that 
 you were living, to hear what was said about you ; and 
 then, though he prayed earnestly to see you again, he 
 seemed content. He could not have borne, he said, 
 to die not knowing what had become of you. But 
 he had cause to thank God for the last tidings that 
 reached his ears. Don't ask more now ; I will tell you 
 all when we get to our lodgings." 
 
 Neither spoke again till in the boat, seated by her 
 brother and holding his hand. Amy turned to subjects 
 of which she could speak with self-control in the 
 presence of strangers. 
 
 " Crosthwaite has been most useful and most 
 efficient," she said, " but I was a little frightened and 
 might have found some trouble ; had not a gentleman 
 
 VOL. I. p
 
 210 ERRANT. 
 
 who was himself waiting to meet ladies on board 
 travelled with us from London, and helped me in find- 
 ing apartments here and making my way to the ship. 
 "What is that, Lionel ? " As the boat pushed off, three 
 ringing cheers were given by a number of seamen who 
 had gathered along the nearer bulwarks. It did not 
 at first occur to Darcy that this farewell salute was 
 intended for himself ; till, as the last hurrah died out, 
 a midshipman on board — who had shown all a boy's 
 admiration for Darcy's reported exploits — cried, " One 
 more cheer for Kulwar," and another shout rang along 
 the vessel's side. There was more annoyance than 
 complacency in Darcy's look as he lifted his cap in 
 acknovdedgment of the cheers. A faint smile of pride 
 and fondness brightened his sister's pale and mournful 
 face. 
 
 ''You are not well enough to enjoy the noise that 
 attends on fame," she said, misinterpreting the expres- 
 sion of his countenance. " I hope we may reach our 
 lodgings unnoticed, especially as you are not in 
 uniform. But all the papers were full of Kulwar for 
 some days, and it is not likely to be forgotten yet, if 
 they recognize you." 
 
 Afzul, who knew his master's humour if he could 
 not understand it, did his best to bring the little party 
 quietly and unnoticed to their conveyance ; but the 
 cheers from the ship had pointed out to the notice of 
 the crowd on shore, as well as to the boatmen, one 
 who might otherwise have passed unobserved, save as 
 a wounded soldier, too young to have been the hero of ' 
 any important exploit, in the suite of much older and 
 more distinguished men ; and their landing was greeted
 
 PLAIJDITE ! 211 
 
 ■with more noise and infinitely less consideration than 
 had attended their deiDarture from the ship. Com- 
 pelled to acknowledge the ovation of which he was the 
 ohject, but availing himself to the utmost of the rights 
 which even an English mob concedes to helplessness, 
 Darcy, supported by Afzul and his sister, managed to 
 enter the conveyance that awaited them without being 
 actually forced to stop and speak or shake hands with 
 his unwashed admirers. 
 
 Amy's thoughtful care had provided, in the quiet 
 lodgings selected by an experience and judgment elder 
 than her own, the refreshment which she was well 
 aware her brother would need before he could listen 
 calmly to what she had to tell. Not till, with all 
 sisterly care and tenderness, she had made him do 
 such justice as an invalid might to the meal, would 
 she allow him to question or attempt to answer. Into 
 her account of their father's last days it is needless to 
 enter. Some part, however, of the last messages left 
 with her had a bearing upon matters without mention 
 of which this story would be incomplete. 
 
 " You know," she said, " that he hardly expected 
 when you went out to see you again. Ours has never 
 been a long-lived race, and he, as you know, feared 
 above all things to outlive the use and enjoyment of 
 life ; and he did enjoy it almost to the last. Not ten 
 days before, I was walking with him on the mountains 
 above the lake, and his step was as firm, his arm, as 
 he helped me over walls and stones, as strong and 
 steady as it could have been thirty years ago. His 
 illness was so sudden and short, and the end took us 
 so nearly by surprise, that if he had not known better
 
 212 ERRANT. 
 
 than we he would hardly have had time to give me 
 even the few messages he did leave for you. . . . 
 Surely it was only natural he should speak of you 
 with intense pride and gratitude to Heaven. It might 
 not be needful, but it was natural too that he should 
 commend me so particularly to your care, now that I 
 have no other friend or relation in the world. — No, 
 Lionel ; if you have not forgotten what we were to 
 each other, I need, I wish for, no other affection than 
 yours ! — But he bade me explain as far as I could 
 understand it what he knew and thought of your 
 mystery. He would have made a great effort, or 
 would have made almost any sacrifice, he said, that 
 would not have been unjust to me, to secure your 
 commission and to prevent your feeling the pain and 
 mortification of poverty in the service, and especially 
 in a cavalry regiment — as if I could have grudged 
 anything, that you might follow the only career in 
 which you would have been happy, or which would 
 have been satisfactory to him. He would not tell you 
 while he lived from whom he believed the offer came 
 to pay for your commission, and to give you an 
 income sufficient to put you on an equality with your 
 comrades ; and he said he was sorry he could not 
 write, for there were things in the story he could not 
 tell to me. You remember we used to whisjDer to one 
 another, wondering that he so seldom mentioned our 
 mother, though the tablet in our little chapel spoke so 
 touchingly of her ? I never knew even who she was, 
 or anything of her family but her maiden name." 
 " Nor I," replied her brother. '' Well, Amy ?" 
 ** She had, he said, relations of whom he knew
 
 PLAUDITE ! 213 
 
 almost as little as we ; but she had one cousin with 
 whom before his marriage he was well acquainted, Sir 
 Francis Clavering. It was under his roof that she 
 was brought up. But shortly before her marriage 
 some quarrel took place that Papa would not explain 
 to me. But he bade you remember that she was very 
 young, and might be utterly in the wrong without 
 being gravely to blame. At any rate she left the 
 house, and Sir Francis would never see or write to 
 her again. But he encouraged our father to visit 
 where she was, and to ask her in marriage. Sir 
 Francis would have done much for them ; but as the 
 quarrel was never made up, our father would accept 
 nothing. But he believes that it was Sir Francis 
 who paid for your commission and made you. your 
 allowance ; and he made it his last charge to you 
 neither to inquire nor to refuse ; but if Sir Francis 
 ever sought us out, to accept his acquaintance and his 
 kindness with the respect we should show to a grand- 
 father. ' And,' he said, ' I don't advise Lionel to 
 quarrel with any one ; but I should be sorry that he 
 should be the debtor or the friend of one great man 
 with whom as a neighbour he may some day become 
 acquainted, and who might be inclined to befriend 
 such a protege — Lord Penrith.' " 
 
 "Strange," observed Darcy, musing; "I did not 
 know that he was even acquainted with the Earl." 
 
 "I don't think he was. He never spoke of him 
 before. But remember, Lionel, though he never was 
 intimate with them, though he never visited at their 
 houses and they seldom called on us — we can under- 
 stand why — our father was on friendly terms with,
 
 214 EKRANT. 
 
 was known and respected by all the gentlemen within 
 twenty miles of the Grange, except the family at 
 Penrith Castle." 
 
 ^' A strange fate," murmured Darcy, '^that the 
 only family my father would not wish me intimate 
 with is the only one whose goodwill I might come 
 to care for. But, Amy, was there not some connection 
 between Lord Penrith and Sir Francis ? I have 
 heard of him from others, though never from my 
 father ; and I never guessed that he was our mother's 
 relation." 
 
 " Yes," the girl answered. " Lord Penrith's second 
 wife was Sir Francis's sister, but much older than our 
 mother and married long before her." 
 
 At this moment a noise in the street, which had 
 been for some time increasing in loudness and con- 
 fusion of voices, became so tumultuous as to disturb 
 the conversation. 
 
 " Upon my word," observed Lionel, '^ our English 
 towns seem noisier and more disorderly than the 
 Native parts of Calcutta, or than Benares in time of 
 Pilgrimage. I wonder whom they are cheering or 
 pelting now ? " 
 
 " That is our own name they are shouting," Amy 
 said, with a smile of pride, after listening for a 
 minute. 
 
 " Nonsense, child ! " her brother replied, somewhat 
 impatiently. But he was enlightened by the entrance 
 of the landlady in some excitement. 
 
 " Mr. Darcy, the people are shouting for you, and 
 they are getting angry that you take no notice. Da 
 speak to them a few words, and then they will go. It
 
 plaudite! 215 
 
 is getting a nuisance; and after all," as she observed 
 his reluctance, *'it is something for you to be proud 
 of, sir." 
 
 Such was not the young soldier's feeling, if his face 
 truly reflected his mind. But the impatience of the 
 crowd was manifested in a clamour so distinct, and 
 so obviously calling upon him, that it was impossible 
 to ignore and would have been bad taste to refuse the 
 compliment, however worthless. Releasing his right 
 arm from the sling in which he still commonly wore 
 it, and endeavouring to find in Amy's a substitute for 
 the crutch still necessary to his wounded limb, Lionel 
 opened the window and stepped forth upon the balcony. 
 The black clothes he had hastily put on, and the 
 heavy unrelieved black crape of his sister's dresa» re- 
 minded the crowd of the rumour circulated among 
 them that the object of their favour had returned 
 home only to find himself an orphan ; and the recol- 
 lection hushed their tumult for a moment into re- 
 spectful silence. 
 
 "Men," said Darcy, instinctively addressing the 
 multitude in the language of the march and the parade 
 ground, " I assure you you are cheering the wrong- 
 man. You could not pay too much honour to the 
 Eajah who threw in his lot with us in our hour of 
 extremity ; and of his own free will chose rather to 
 die defending our women and children than to be 
 adored by his countrymen for letting them cut our 
 throats. But we who were sent there, what could we 
 do but stand by him ? Don't suppose they gave us 
 any choice in the matter. Cowards would have fought 
 hard when to be beaten meant to be butchered in cold
 
 216 ERKANT. 
 
 blood. I thank you for your welcome to an English 
 soldier ; but there are a good many of us ! " 
 
 *' Not many like you," cried a voice below; a senti- 
 ment vehemently endorsed by the crowd. 
 
 " Nonsense ! All my comrades envied my good 
 luck in being there, and with good reason. That 
 really made all the difference. If I did my best, so 
 would they; so all of us do when women and little 
 ones depend on us. English soldiers, aye, and 
 English civilians, in India seldom fail to turn oppor- 
 tunities to account. Opportunities are all they want, 
 and this rebellion affords plenty. I am much obliged 
 to you ; but if you shout so loud for every man who 
 has done his duty you will have abundant exercise for 
 your voices ; and those who chance to come home 
 late will find you terribly hoarse. Thank you once 
 more ; but," as the noise recommenced, " the surgeons 
 had better indent early for ipec, or the stores will be 
 empty; and you won't have voice left to do even 
 justice to others when their turn comes. So, gentle- 
 men, good night." 
 
 The effect of such words must depend on the tone of 
 the speaker, and Darcy's was not at first conciliatory. 
 Fortunately for the success of his speech, he had soon 
 caught sight, on the balcony of the great hotel facing 
 him, of two female figures — the younger of those 
 ladies in whose defence he had won the popularity he 
 was now called to acknowledge ; and, unconsciously, 
 his manner softened into a less contemptuous affec- 
 tation of courtesy as he became aware that Alice 
 Kavanagh was a witness of the honour paid to him. 
 That thought alone gave to the homage of the crowd
 
 PLAUDITS ! 217 
 
 a value which in itself it could never have possessed 
 for him ; and what had been almost scorn became, 
 in the latter sentences, good-humoured mockery of 
 applause which a soldier's modesty shrank from treat- 
 ing seriously. The speech, therefore, was accepted in 
 good part, and the crowd dispersed, unaware that their 
 cheers had been received with ridicule rather than 
 with gratitude. 
 
 *' Lionel," said his sister, " I should have thought 
 n soldier cared more for fame, or even for the shouts 
 that testify to it." 
 
 " Fame ! " returned her brother, scornfully. " The 
 fame that lies in the shouts of a mob, or the praises 
 of newspapers that know little of the facts and nothing 
 of the merits of military service, can hardly be worth 
 having. At all events, I cannot understand the soldier 
 worthy the name who can find pleasure in them. To 
 be cheered by the rabble of all the towns in England 
 would not be worth Vane's ' Well done ! ' on the field. 
 No, the only honour an English soldier can prize 
 must come from his chiefs or his Sovereign. For a 
 word, a look, from the Queen, that should say ' You 
 have served me well,' I should be glad and proud to 
 die." 
 
 The flush on his cheek, the glistening fire and 
 gathering moisture of emotion in his eyes, satisfied 
 Amy that, however insensible to the popularity that 
 gratified her on his account, her brother had all a 
 soldier's pride in that which seemed to him the fitting 
 reward of a soldier's loyalty.
 
 218 EKRANT. 
 
 CHAPTEE XIV. 
 
 IN PEACE. 
 
 " Betwixt them blossomed up, 
 From, out a common vein of memory, 
 Sweet household talk and phrases of the hearth 
 And far allusion, till the gracious dews 
 Began to glisten." 
 
 ''I AM sorry, Amy," said her brother, as he recHned 
 some three weeks later in the projecting window of 
 the sitting-room overlooking from a considerable 
 height the blue water of one of the wildest of our 
 English lakes, his face perhaps intentionally averted 
 from her whom he addressed; "but after examining 
 papers and accounts I find, as I told you I feared, 
 that we cannot stay here. You know that part of my 
 father's income died with him ; and the estate is 
 mortgaged for two or perhaps three years' value. 
 Living here, we should have no chance to pay it off, 
 probably should get deeper into debt. Letting the 
 place, and devoting the rents to pay off the debt, it 
 will be free in three years at most. Evans has 
 promised me such work in London as I can do till I 
 am able to rejoin, which will not be, the surgeons tell 
 me, for many months yet. Before that time perhaps 
 we may see more clearly what arrangement can be
 
 IN PEACE. 219- 
 
 made for you ; but, Amy, if I do not find some safe 
 and happy home for you, you must see I have no 
 choice. I could not drag you about with the regiment, 
 and I will not leave you alone." 
 
 Amy sat, her work in hand, by the large table of 
 dark old oak, corresponding with the panellings of the 
 room and the general aspect of a residence older even 
 than the English traditions of the family ; of whose 
 estates this modest dwelling, with a square mile or two 
 of mountain pasture around it, alone remained to 
 them. The day was dark and gloomy; the moun- 
 tains around, close and lofty, soon hid the sinking 
 sun of a Cumbrian winter, and at a distance from the 
 large but low window, if the girl could see her needle, 
 the expression of her countenance was hardly •dis- 
 tinguishable. But at the last words she rose, and 
 approaching the window knelt beside her brother and 
 put her arms around his neck. 
 
 " Do not say so. Lion. It will be very hard to part 
 with you, but it would break my heart that you 
 should give up your profession, your career, and all 
 that lies before you, after such a beginning, to stay at 
 home with me. I could not have a kinder, a better 
 guardian and teacher, you know," she went on, 
 striving to speak lightly ; " but it would be poor work 
 for you to loiter at home taking care of a schoolgirl, 
 with no better employment than to correct her exer- 
 cises, and no better amusement than listening to her 
 music." 
 
 " My darling, I shall find work more profitable if 
 not so pleasant ; and whatever I might wish — and I 
 could not wish to part with you — one has no more
 
 220 ERRANT. 
 
 right to shirk the duty on which one is clearly ordered 
 by Providence than that on which one is sent by a 
 superior officer. It would be as unsoldierly to flinch 
 from a sacrifice so clearly called for, as to grumble at 
 being confined in garrison, or try to evade a dan- 
 gerous and inglorious piece of service." 
 
 "Don't, Lionel; I cannot bear it. No man's life 
 should be sacrificed to a girl's, and yours least of all. 
 Don't talk of such a thing ; don't make me feel that it 
 is a pity you have a sister. Can't you understand 
 how hard it must be to feel oneself simply in the 
 way; to know not only that one is useless — that 
 women must often be — but that it would be far better 
 that one did not exist ? " 
 
 " Amy, how do you think I can bear to hear you? 
 Could any fortune or fame I could dream of make up 
 to me for losing the one thing left me to love, for 
 being so utterly alone in the world as I should be 
 without you ? Enough, darling. If you can make up 
 your mind to leave our home for so long a time, 
 without crying or fretting . . ." 
 
 " Fretting ? Lionel ! As if I did not know that the 
 sacrifice is far harder to you than to me ; that you 
 not only love our home as well, but feel, in letting it 
 to strangers, a mortification I can understand, though 
 I hardly can share it except for your sake." 
 
 " I don't like the thought of shutting you up in a 
 London lodging," Lionel answered. "But we shall 
 find other amusement than your music, grateful as 
 that is ; and you will have to work, Amy : you must 
 profit by the opportunity of better teaching than 
 
 mine."
 
 IN PEACE. 221 
 
 Afzul entered the room at tins 'moment, and with a 
 salute of Oriental reverence, strange in the place as 
 the place to him, presented on an ancient salver a 
 large letter with an official seal. Darcy opened it, and 
 having cast his eyes over it handed it to his sister, 
 who had read in his sparkling eyes and brightening 
 colour the nature of its contents. 
 
 "The Victoria Cross!" she cried. "Ah! but I 
 knew they could not but give it you. Oh, Lion, if 
 Papa had lived to see this ! " 
 
 Few human smiles express as sweet and pure a joy 
 as moved the young girl to tears ; tears that fell fast 
 over her brother's face and bosom, as Amy's embrace 
 spoke more of gratified pride and fondness than could 
 be uttered in words. The silence of the nexi; few 
 minutes marked perhaps the happiest point in either 
 life. Keen as must be a man's enjoyment of high 
 honours worthily won, far keener, deeper, more delight- 
 ful because pure of all egotistic feeling, is a loving 
 sister's or mother's enjoyment of such honours be- 
 stowed on a son or a brother; and Amy's was the 
 more intense that Lionel was now the sole, as he had 
 ever been the chief, object of her strong and clinging 
 affection. Nor, even in the first love of which he as 
 yet was but half conscious, had he ever realized a 
 feeling more profound and earnest than his attach- 
 ment to his only and orphan sister. The reward now 
 announced was to him, as to all English soldiers, 
 perhaps the greatest that can requite courage and 
 conduct, and gratify professional and personal pride ; 
 and to him, to whom it seemed a derogation from 
 loyalty to accept any honour not coming from the sole
 
 222 EKKANT. 
 
 Fount of Honour, this recognition of good service, so 
 early won, was even exceptionally welcome. But, for 
 the moment at least, the strongest element in the 
 mixed emotions with which he received it was wholly 
 unselfish. The best and sweetest part of his satis- 
 faction was derived from his sister's intense delight 
 and gratitude. 
 
 "But," said Amy at last, "is there not something 
 more in the last sentence ? They cannot expect you 
 io join yet ? No, it will be long before you can pos- 
 sibly return to your regiment. What can they 
 mean ? " 
 
 "I don't know, dear. It may be that a vacancy 
 has been made, or is to be made, that they think I 
 might purchase. But though the solicitor wrote that 
 his employer would furnish the means of purchasing 
 my troop, I will not ask for it. But for our father's 
 command, I would not have continued to accept the 
 favour he ascribed, I suppose rightly, to Sir Francis ; 
 and certainly I will not say a word that should even 
 seem to remind him of his further promises." 
 
 " Lion, is that acting in the spirit of our father's 
 instruction ? Is it quite loyal to his last desire ? " 
 
 " Kemember, Amy, he never bade me do anything 
 to attract, or force myself on, Sir Francis's notice ; 
 only to accept it respectfully and gratefully if bestowed 
 of his own accord." 
 
 " Yes," said the girl, timidly ; " but is it accepting, 
 when he has offered you a troop whenever the oppor- 
 tunity should occur, if you evade availing yourself of 
 the offer by not telling him what of course he cannot 
 be expected to know ? "
 
 IN PEACE. 223 
 
 Her brother hesitated to reply. Amy's simple, 
 straightforward moral instinct had touched the point 
 with absolute accuracy ; and though her argument 
 might easily be turned or evaded, the reasoning that 
 might silence her could hardly convince, much less 
 satisfy, his own native truthfulness. Too proud even 
 to seem to ask the fulfilment of a patron's promise 
 by suggesting that the opportunity had arisen, he 
 was too clear-sighted not to feel that to that pride 
 he was in some degree sacrificing the obedience due 
 to his father's last direction. Even if he could have 
 paltered with his own conscience, he could not bewilder 
 Amy's simplicity with sophistry that might perplex 
 her, or appeal to her simple confidence in his judg- 
 ment against the instinctive sense of right and truth 
 which, of all that was charming and lovable in her, 
 he most esteemed and admired. 
 
 The discussion, however, was dropped, and the 
 question was solved for him. A few weeks later, one 
 of the rare visitors to the tiny furnished cottage, 
 chosen for Amy's sake in what was then the half- 
 rural suburb below Highgate Hill, was Evans, now 
 the Editor of a morning journal slowly but surely 
 achieving reputation and influence under his able 
 guidance. 
 
 " You are a most fortunate soldier, Darcy," he said, 
 after he had been introduced to Amy and had ex- 
 changed a few words on business with his young 
 friend and contributor. "You will be able, I trust, 
 to receive your Cross from the Queen in person ; and 
 what is perhaps of more practical importance to your 
 career, though not equally gratifying to your pride.
 
 224 EREANT. 
 
 your step is, I believe, secure. The B6th suffered 
 terribly at Sivapore ; and though the rest of the 
 regiment has sustained no disaster, it has not taken 
 so forward a part in all the recent operations without 
 heavy losses. Great interest I have no doubt has 
 been made for you ; I can perhaps guess whose, since 
 I have learnt that the ladies whom you saved at the 
 Eesidency were your companions in your homeward 
 voyage. But it is so managed, I believe, that you 
 will receive your troop without purchase. And that 
 is not all. The rest is a secret, but I should hardly 
 have been allowed to know it if there were any risk 
 that in telling you I should expose you to disappoint- 
 ment. There will be before long an Indian brevet; 
 and if by that time you have gained your step, and* 
 I presume you will, they talk of another brevet step 
 for you. It is long indeed since so young a man ever 
 obtained such advancement ; but even the Army will 
 hardly grumble, and the newspapers will certainly be 
 on your side, as they would be if the brilliancy of 
 your exploits had been less real than it was. The 
 Government may be afraid to reward slow and steady 
 merit by a single irregular or unusual promotion ; 
 but it is always safe to deal liberally with a popular 
 
 hero." 
 
 "I shall be sorry," said Darcy, slowly, "to owe 
 anything to what you call popularity, and certainly 
 sorry also to receive favours which many elder and 
 better men will bitterly envy. I don't pretend that if 
 they think a man worthy of the Gross they should not 
 give him a brevet step also ; but when one knows 
 how many men have gone unrewarded by such a lift
 
 IN PEACE. 225 
 
 for long and splendid service, it does not seem right 
 that it should be given in the case of one more for- 
 tunate individual." 
 
 "Well," returned Evans, ''two wrongs don't make 
 a right. They would not amend their injustice to 
 others by omitting to reward you." 
 
 ** Unluckily," said Darcy, "that is just the reverse 
 of the truth. Favour to a younger man in the way 
 of promotion does injure scores of others ; and while 
 seniority is a rule so seldom violated, every violation 
 of it is resented as an injury, not only by those who 
 relied on the rule, but by all who feel that they were 
 as well entitled as any one to have been exceptions." 
 
 "I see," said Evans, turning to Amy, who had 
 listened in silence but with evident displeasure to 
 a conversation which in her eyes disparaged her 
 brother's claims, "you cannot bear to hear of Lionel's 
 ' good luck.' But, after all, there must be many able 
 and brave men who miss the advancement they 
 deserve simply for want of a chance of proving their 
 qualities; half a dozen probably for each who gets 
 such a chance as his : I am quite willing to allow 
 that there are probably threescore who, if they got 
 the opportunity, would make nothing of it. But I 
 must make my peace with you by something better 
 than an excuse. It is only the third night of the 
 new opera, but our critic, who was there on the first 
 two performances, don't care to attend again, and I 
 have brought you our tickets." 
 
 The girl's countenance brightened at once, and her 
 sparkling eyes told how much she appreciated the 
 novel pleasure. 
 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 226 EERANT. 
 
 "I would not ask Lionel," she said, ''but I never 
 heard an opera, and I have wished above all things to 
 hear one." 
 
 "You must not ask your brother to commit such 
 wanton extravagance, Miss Darcy. We cannot, of 
 course, promise you places exactly when and where 
 you please ; but you may be sure of seeing one night 
 or another every piece at every theatre you may fancy, 
 without its costing him more than your cab fare. I 
 see neither you nor he understand the privileges of 
 the profession. Half a year's experience of London 
 may induce you to think with me, that your brother 
 would be better employed in cutting up Ministers and 
 slashing books than in slaughtering Natives; espe- 
 ciall}^ as the Ministers and the authors have not th^ 
 privilege of slashing in return." 
 
 " Does that enhance the pleasure of attacking 
 them, Mr. Evans ? "When I read your bitter attack 
 on the Leader of Opposition this morning, I could not 
 help thinking there was something cowardly about 
 the anonymous system." 
 
 '' That is too long a question to discuss now. Miss 
 Darcy. After your brother has had a year's experi- 
 ence of newspaper work he may be able to ex]3lain to 
 you, when you are at a loss to find employment for a 
 long winter evening at home, how deeply that prin- 
 ciple is involved in the whole system of English 
 journalism, how widely the character of our news- 
 papers would be altered if articles were signed by 
 their writers. As an Editor I should not like the 
 change, for it would destroy one-half my power. But 
 an honest writer will never send in an article to which
 
 IN PEACE. 227 
 
 he would not sign his name, if required ; or rather, 
 will never write what he would not sign, for often he 
 must omit much that he would feel bound to add if 
 independent of editorial control and responsible for 
 his own work." 
 
 " Then do you mean that a writer is not respon- 
 sible ? Of course I don't mean to the law or per- 
 sonally, but morally. If the article is unjust or one- 
 sided to his knowledge, is he not guilty of wilful 
 untruth and injustice ? " 
 
 " If he makes it wilfully unfair, of course he is an 
 accomplice in wrong-doing, though I am afraid the 
 sin is too common, I might say too universal, to be 
 duly appreciated. But — no ! — to your question as to 
 ' responsibility. The writer is responsible to the Editor, 
 the Editor alone is responsible for what appears." 
 
 "And in what sense responsible, and to whom?" 
 asked Lionel. " You blew me up pretty sharply for 
 my last article, and made it quite clear that it must 
 have gone in without your reading it." 
 
 " In all professions, Darcy, one must now and then 
 answer for over-confidence. I did not think you would 
 write such a diatribe on such a subject, or I should 
 have held it over till I could read it." 
 
 ** But," said Amy, "responsibility, I suppose, 
 implies some penalty that might at least be exacted 
 here or hereafter ? What penalty attaches to an 
 Editor's sins, whether his own or those of his con- 
 tributors?" 
 
 " Discredit to his paper in the first place, which he 
 feels very keenly ; and I suppose we shall have to 
 answer hereafter for our personal sins in professional
 
 228 EREANT. 
 
 as well as in social life ; though if so, it will go hard 
 with us." 
 
 "In that case," said Darcy, smiling, "I am afraid 
 it will be necessary to provide a special department 
 for newspaper Editors in what Coleridge calls ' the 
 prisons below; ' and, present company excepted, there 
 will be very few journalists in Paradise." 
 
 " I suppose not," retorted his friend. " It would 
 be no Heaven to us where we could not abuse one 
 another, any more than to you where you cannot 
 fight." 
 
 " There you are mistaken, Mr. Evans," interposed 
 Amy. ''I cannot get Lionel to talk about the fighting 
 he saw and shared in India. All he will say is, that 
 it was so horrible that if we were ever likely to have 
 such another war he would resign his commission at 
 
 once." 
 
 " Yes, Miss Darcy ; and he says things of the same 
 kind so often and so bitterly in print, that I am 
 obliged to cut out half of them ; and every article of 
 his on India brings me a dozen letters of furious 
 abuse from soldiers and civilians, or still more fre- 
 quently from their kinsfolk at home, and at least half 
 a dozen daily threats of withdrawal from sub- 
 scribers." 
 
 "I am very sorry to hear it," said Darcy, half 
 penitently. " But the present temper of our people 
 sickens me, and makes me look with terror to the 
 future of India under our rule." 
 
 "Oh," said his friend, "nothing tells so much in 
 favour of a young writer, nothing suits a newspaper 
 so well, as to provoke abuse. But you are mistaken,.
 
 IN PEACE. 229 
 
 Darcy, at least as regards the future. Englishmen 
 are always savage when they are frightened — remem- 
 ber 1745 and 1798 — and three years hence all this 
 vindictive feeling, which after all prevails chiefly 
 among the sitters at home, will be forgotten." 
 
 Her first opera was, of course, a supreme delight 
 to Amy ; and her brother, comparatively indifferent 
 himself, found, in watching the frank unsophisticated 
 pleasure expressed in her countenance, more gratifica- 
 tion than music, singing, and acting could have given 
 to a disposition less critical and more artistic than his 
 own. Thereafter, it was a sufficient compensation for 
 the self-sacrifice to take her twice a week, on the 
 •evenings which are comparatively holiday intervals 
 for the men employed on the daily press, to one after 
 another of the London theatres, then much less 
 numerous than now, and for that very reason mostly 
 better organized. Those were the days when Kean 
 and Wigan produced piece after piece of spectacular 
 splendour or high dramatic interest, every part well 
 sustained by well-qualified, well-drilled actors, disci- 
 plined to support one another as effectually as trained 
 soldiers. Their companies did not consist of one or 
 two very meteoric '' stars " and a dozen very wooden 
 sticks ; nor were plays as a rule written, translated, 
 or manufactured simply to afford to one favourite 
 performer opportunities of self-display in one or two 
 set familiar characters. Once, Amy's remarks on a 
 first performance seemed to Lionel so intelligent, apt, 
 and pointed that, on their return, he allowed her to 
 sit up far later than her usual hour, and induced her 
 ■to assist him to embody them in a volunteer criticism ;
 
 230 ERRANT. 
 
 wliicli to lier great delight appeared in full in the next, 
 edition of the Courier. She was not, however, so 
 easily reconciled as was her brother to the few correc- 
 tions in which he recognized the practised hand of the 
 Editor, and which as a matter of course spoilt or cut 
 out precisely those sentences in which in their joint 
 composition the pair had taken most especial satisfac- 
 tion. But pleasantly as two evenings in the week were 
 thus spent, the other five were generally weary indeed 
 to Amy, who protested in vain against the fiat of her 
 brother condemning her perforce to retire to rest at a 
 reasonable hour, not long after he himself had gene- 
 rally left her to seek the somewhat uncertain employ- 
 ment depending on late telegraphic or Parliamentary 
 reports. But less from any word of his than from her 
 own quick sympathy and feminine tact. Amy was 
 aware that, after so spending most of his evenings, her 
 brother made a real effort and serious sacrifice in 
 giving up to her amusement out-of-doors those he 
 would naturally have preferred to spend in rest and 
 quiet at home ; and she forbore to murmur that so 
 many evening hours must be spent in solitude, and so 
 large a part of each morning wasted, as she felt it^ 
 before one who had reached home long after midnight 
 could join her at the meal she could never be per- 
 suaded to enjoy alone. Shy and sensitive as her 
 father and brother, inheriting the reserved habits of a 
 family whose means had been so long utterly dispro- 
 portionate to their rank and to their traditionary 
 ideas, she had made few or no acquaintances ; and 
 was now, as she had been in the solitude of their 
 Westmoreland home, solely dependent upon Lionel'^
 
 IN PEACE. 231 
 
 companionsliip. Nor did he choose to mtroduce to 
 her any of those colleagues or professional rivals with 
 whom his newspaper work naturally brought him into 
 frequent and familiar contact. It was therefore no 
 little surprise to her, a surprise which had at least the 
 pleasure of novelty, when, with the formal courtesy 
 he seldom neglected even in the intimacy of their 
 home life, her brother asked her permission to bring 
 to their table, on a Sunday evening that chanced to 
 be at his disposal, one collahorateur of whom she had 
 heard incidentally from him and from Evans, as 
 perhaps the most valued and most influential writer 
 on the Courier. 
 
 *' Evans growls," said Lionel, "at least twice a 
 week over Philipson's articles ; but I don't fancy he 
 often alters them. Philipson understands the subject 
 on which it seems to me we are all most ignorant and 
 stupid, on which the entire English press are blind 
 leaders of the blind — the affairs of continental 
 Europe ; and Evans, who is too strong a man to be 
 ashamed or afraid of confessing ignorance, allows 
 such a contributor much more license than, so far as 
 I can learn, is permitted on any other journal. The 
 other day he gave me a note to Philipson which I 
 forgot to deliver till too late. He had just sent up 
 his article when I found and gave it him. *The 
 deuce ! ' he said, * I should have had this sooner. 
 Evans tells me to say so-and-so and so-and-so, and . I 
 have said as nearly as possible the direct opposite. 
 Well, I could not have written what he wants, and if 
 I had seen him I think I could have shown him he is 
 quite wrong.' The next morning, Amy, the article
 
 232 ERKANT. 
 
 appeared exactly as Philipson had written it, and I 
 was by when he asked Evans how this came about. 
 * Well/ said our chief, ' I saw you had mastered the 
 subject and that I had not ; and though I don't know 
 that I should have agreed with you, an article show- 
 ing real comprehension of such a matter is too rare 
 and valuable a thing to be spoilt.' " 
 
 "Well, but," said Amy, "surely any man of sense 
 would have said that ? " 
 
 " Philipson said," replied her brother, " that there 
 was not another Editor in London who would have 
 had the sense to do the thing, much less the freedom 
 from petty vanity to avow it."
 
 ( 233 ) 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 AT HOME. 
 " Who daily scribble for your daily bread." 
 
 Almost any guest of intellect, culture, and good- 
 breeding, familiar with all the topics of the day, 
 would have been welcome to Amy; who, though 
 scarcely conscious of it and resolute not to own it 
 to herself, had begun to find not merely her solitude 
 but the sole society of her beloved brother somewhat 
 monotonous. But for the lessons in music and draw- 
 ing which, out of an income even more limited than 
 she was aware, her brother had ungrudgingly obtained 
 for her, and to and from which, when not received at 
 home, he never failed to escort her, time, despite a 
 taste for reading and for work more persistent and 
 discriminating than that of most ladies of twice her 
 years, would have hung very heavily on her hands. 
 Edward Philipson was a man of about thirty years 
 of age, with little that was remarkable in face or 
 figure except a slight but somewhat noticeable stoop, 
 or rather forward inclination of the head, which gave 
 especial effect to the sudden drawing up of his form 
 and level glance of his bright expressive eyes from
 
 234 EKEANT. 
 
 under the wide overhanging brow, when some topic 
 of unusual interest excited him to momentary anima- 
 tion, and the sudden change of attitude and the 
 gesture of the outstretched arm and pointed finger 
 emphasized a telhng repartee or stinging sarcasm. 
 Not entirely dependent on his pen, few understood 
 why he had adopted for several years the laborious 
 profession of a journalist, unrewarded by the repute 
 and recognized influence which by men of his character 
 and position is generally much more prized than mere 
 pecuniary profit. But the fact of his pecuniary 
 independence no doubt contributed to render the 
 Editor, who was labouring with no little success to 
 make for the Courier a great and profitable position, 
 complaisant toward such an ally. 
 
 " Your servant, I suppose," he said, as he took his 
 coffee from Amy's hand; "is he who was with your 
 brother throughout his Indian campaign, and of 
 whom he has once or twice spoken in such high 
 terms ? " 
 
 "Yes," answered Amy, pleased with this notice 
 of one whose martial bearing and lofty courtesy had 
 highly impressed her, and made it seem awkward and 
 unnatural to employ him in ordinary menial duties. 
 "Afzul and my nurse, Crosthwaite — who had never 
 gone six miles from the home in which she was born 
 till she came with me to London — are our whole 
 household, and most invaluable we find them both." 
 
 "But they must be somewhat oddly assorted, 
 surely?" said her guest, smiling. "An Arab warrior 
 and the daughter of a Westmoreland peasant trained 
 in an English household, who had never till middle
 
 AT HOME. 235 
 
 life seen any but Westmoreland folk, must have been 
 at first strange company for one another? " 
 
 " They have both," answered Amy, " so much 
 dignity and self-respect that, though Crosthwaite was 
 not a little scared and startled at first, and still 
 marvels now and then at his peculiar ways, they get 
 on admirably on the whole." 
 
 "I can understand that. Miss Darcy. A London 
 servant would have been half frightened, half curious 
 at first, and very soon impertinent and inquisitive. 
 But with just that distance and difficulty of exact 
 appreciation which difference of race creates, your 
 ex-jemadar and your confidential housekeeper must 
 naturally regard one another much more as equals, 
 and each respect the position and character of «fche 
 other in a manner gratifying to the feelings of 
 both." 
 
 " I fancied at first," she replied, "that an Asiatic 
 warrior's contempt of women would make his duties 
 here repugnant to Afzul ; but nothing can be more 
 respectful and considerate and at the same time more 
 dignified than the courteous attention with which he 
 renders every possible service to me. But it is much 
 more like the attention of a gentleman to a lady with 
 whom he is not yet on speaking terms than of an 
 ordinary English man-servant." 
 
 " Or," observed her guest, '* of a noble in her suite 
 to a Princess." 
 
 There was nothing in the tone or words, but some- 
 thing in the manner of the speaker, that gave a shade 
 of complimentary meaning to the commonj^lace ; a 
 compliment, however, if so intended, which Amy was.
 
 236 EKRANT. 
 
 too perfectly simple and unaffected to observe; and 
 the conversation glided to other subjects. 
 
 " No," said Amy, in answer to a remark from her 
 ^uest, " you are the first of my brother's colleagues 
 or professional acquaintance to whom I have been 
 introduced." 
 
 ''Which makes the introduction," he answered, "as 
 high a compliment as it is a pleasure. Otherwise I 
 might have ventured to say that your brother shows 
 his discretion, and the care with which he watches 
 over such a charge." 
 
 '* But he must make enemies by his exclusive- 
 ness ? " she said, inquiringly. 
 
 ''I don't think so, Miss Darcy. And if he did he 
 would still be right. He gets on well enough, as I 
 hope I do, with the multitude of men of whom we 
 must make occasional companions, but whom we 
 should hardly care to recognize as anything more. 
 The strangely mixed character and quality of its 
 members is one of the peculiarities of our profession. 
 We are all of necessity on the footing of equals ; and 
 yet there are branches of the profession, and impor- 
 tant branches, scarcely any member of which nowa- 
 days has had the education or has the manners of a 
 gentleman ; while among those who do what may be 
 called its highest work you will find every variety of 
 character, from men of high reputation, great ability, 
 and profound interest in public affairs — the equals, 
 perhaps, in everything but fortune of leading members 
 of Parliament — down to mere hacks who have learnt 
 by long practice to scribble a readable article on 
 .almost any subject with almost no knowledge of any.
 
 AT HOME. 237 
 
 and wlio have little more intelligence, conscience, or 
 conviction than are requisite to make them useful as 
 automatic pens in the editorial hand." 
 
 ''And it is these men," said Lionel, '* who make the 
 most by their profession. They can take service with 
 any paper that will employ them, without regard to 
 its opinions or principles ; while those who have con- 
 victions of their own are confined to one or two 
 journals, have no chance to make any independent 
 name or position, and if by chance, or change in the 
 nanagement, they are thrown out, hardly know where 
 to look for other employment." 
 
 " True," replied Philipson. " And that is the great 
 evil of our anonymous system. I know one of the 
 very best writers in London who is at this moment 
 without employment, and with hardly a chance of it. 
 He cannot write for us, because on scarcely any topic 
 of the day does he agree with Evans. For twenty 
 years he wrote, I should say the best, but certainly 
 one-half the principal articles in the Postman — articles 
 which, if signed with his name, would have made him 
 as distinct a figure, as important a personage, in the 
 public eye as the Postman itself. Only one or two 
 men contributed more than he to make the position 
 of that paper and the fortune of its proprietor. And 
 now under a new management he is cut adrift without 
 a prospect, and without a claim that could be put 
 into words." 
 
 " But," said Amy, *' his employers must be shame- 
 fully ungrateful, and such cases must surely be very 
 rare ? " 
 
 " I am afraid not, Miss Darcy. But the subject is
 
 238 EREANT. 
 
 a painful one to those who may look forward to the 
 same fortune themselves. None of us can render 
 better service to the Courier than he did to the Post- 
 man. And Evans may not live for ever, or might 
 quarrel with the proprietor, if the latter be fool enough 
 to quarrel with the man who is making his paper a 
 great property and even a great power. There is no 
 profession in the world in which the profits are so 
 exclusively reaped by those who have little or nothing 
 to do with making them." 
 
 ''Is it not," inquired Amy, " a common complaint 
 that soldiers, after the most brilliant service, are so 
 poor that they can hardly give their children an 
 education and a chance to start fair with those of 
 comparatively undistinguished and even unsuccessful 
 men, in a country that owes all its greatness to its 
 soldiers and seamen? " 
 
 " True enough. Miss Darcy. But in entering the 
 Army men know that it is a service whose rewards are 
 not given in money ; and perhaps it would be less 
 noble than it is if it were a remunerative career. 
 En revanche, soldiers are now, as they were from the 
 beginning and ever will be, first favourites with those 
 whose favour is worth more than fame or money, 
 especially in their eyes ; and a distinguished soldier 
 may always hope to marry an heiress." 
 
 "Do you think," asked Darcy, somewhat indig- 
 nantly, '' that a gentleman can do that ? " 
 
 "Why not ? I don't say that to marry for money 
 is very consonant with the higher and more vital 
 characteristics of a gentleman." 
 
 " Or to ' marry money ' ? "
 
 AT HOME. 239 
 
 " Not in that sense, of course. But a distinguished 
 soldier, whatever his birth or rank, may be brought 
 if he will into the best and wealthiest society ; and, to 
 say nothing of the favour he finds in the ladies' eyes, 
 is less than any other man without fortune accused 
 of presumption, even by the family, in seeking a hand 
 that can bestow wealth. And I suppose heiresses are 
 not as a rule less amiable in real life than other 
 women." 
 
 "Lion," said his sister, "you would not say that 
 a man should be averse to marry a woman he loved 
 because she chanced to be rich ? " 
 
 " Exactly what I should say, Amy. Men don't fall 
 head over ears in love without warning, still less do 
 they win a lady's love without effort or consciousness ; 
 and as there are many cases in which men know 
 and recognize that they must not — and therefore 
 do not — pay court to certain ladies, I don't see 
 what excuse a man can plead for allowing himself 
 to propose to an heiress, or for going so far that he 
 can become doubtful what his duty in the matter is. 
 What is the usual motive in such marriages we see 
 in what men, and women too, always think of them. If 
 a poor man marries a rich woman, society at once 
 takes it for granted that he has 'married money,' as 
 they say. Why, the very phrase implies that he has 
 sought not the hand but the fortune it held." 
 
 "Society," returned Philipson, "always imputes 
 the lowest motive to every act that is not obviously 
 self-sacrificing or heroic, and to some that are." 
 
 A pause of a few minutes followed, when the guest, 
 who had been looking somewhat earnestly at his 
 young hostess, said —
 
 240 EEEANT. 
 
 " Miss Darcy, surely — it seems to me — I have had 
 the pleasure of meeting you before ? " . 
 
 ''Ah, yes ! " replied Amy frankly, her face brightening 
 with surprise and pleasure. ''It was you whom I 
 met at Paddington. Lionel, it was Mr. Philipson 
 who helped us so much when I came to meet you on 
 the Europa, who told me all I had to do, found such 
 convenient lodgings for us, and helped me to get on 
 board and told me where to look for you. Indeed, 
 he did not leave me till his attention was claimed by 
 those he had come to meet." 
 
 " I had no idea," said Darcy, cordially, " how much 
 I was indebted to you. It was no light or easy 
 adventure for Amy, who had scarcely left home before,, 
 to travel so far alone and find me out in the crowd 
 and bustle of the landing ; and without your help I 
 am afraid she would have had no little trouble and 
 annoyance." 
 
 "Yes, I was fortunate, as you said to the South- 
 ampton people, in the chance that fell to me," returned 
 the other; "more fortunate perhaps even than you, 
 and without purchasing my good fortune at such a 
 price ; though, Darcy, Lady Helen spoke of you in 
 a way you would have thought a reward for much 
 good service, and AUce's face, if not her lips, con- 
 firmed fully her mother's praises." 
 
 " You know them ? " asked Lionel, interested to find 
 his friend able to speak of those whom he had been 
 so sorry to part from with little hope of meeting them 
 again ; and, despite himself, showing very plainly the 
 pleasure which the incident afforded him. 
 
 " Yes ; — I was asked to meet them. And Alice was
 
 AT HOME. 241 
 
 very anxious that they might be in London to witness 
 the distribution of the Cross next week. Naturally; 
 she had seen it earned in one case at least. But 
 they are at Penrith Castle now, I believe, and Lady 
 Helen's state is such that they are hardly likely to 
 be in London this year." 
 
 *' How is she ? " asked Darcy. ^' I knew she was 
 very ill when we landed, and had, I was pained to 
 see, grown steadily worse during the voyage ; but I 
 hoped that at home she would have recovered." 
 
 '*Ifear she never will recover," replied Philipson, 
 gravely ; " the more so that I am sure she looks to 
 death as the one thing she can hope or care for. 
 Feeling her daughters safe and well provided for — 
 did you know, Darcy, that Alice is heiress to a very 
 handsome fortune ? — she has nothing to hold her to 
 life. Kavanagh was accused of marrying money, by 
 the way, and marrying interest ; but if ever there 
 were a true love-match that was one. She lived only 
 for him, and his death has given her a death-blow." 
 
 " I can believe that, after being in her company 
 from that moment till our return home," said Darcy. 
 *' You are intimate with them, then ? " 
 . His friend, with some slight embarrassment, parried 
 the question, and shortly afterwards excused his early 
 departure on the plea of professional duty. 
 
 His next visit was paid on the evening of Darcy's 
 return from the striking and impressive scene, in 
 which he was a generally observed actor, when their 
 Sovereign in person, attended by her husband and 
 elder children, placed the Cross, that derived additional 
 value from its association with her own name, on the 
 
 VOL. I. R
 
 242 EKRANT. 
 
 breasts of officers and soldiers, many of whom had 
 won honom-able wounds in maintaining her sovereignty 
 against an Empire in rebellion. The honour thus 
 bestowed, by the very hand of one for whom he felt 
 all the intense reverence of Cavalier loyalty to the 
 Koyal person, deeply moved the young soldier ; and, 
 frankly as he accepted the congratulations of his 
 colleague, he was so silent that evening that the con- 
 versation between Amy and their guest was almost a 
 tete-a-tete. The cordial sympathy and generous ad- 
 miration Philipson manifested for her brother would 
 at any time have touched Amy deeply, and in her 
 present mood of natural excitement and emotion she 
 was even more than usually open to any kindly 
 impression. Philipson lingered late that evening, 
 despite the claim on his services preferred by the 
 Editor in consideration of the approaching debate in 
 Parliament, one on which the fate of a Ministry might 
 depend. When at parting Amy for the first time 
 gave her hand to her new friend, the pressure of his 
 perhaps affected her as much as the contact of her 
 own soft, warm fingers moved him ; though she cer- 
 tainly did not share the conscious pleasure w^hich not 
 a little surprised the experienced and somewhat cold 
 politician and writer, who had for years mingled with 
 the world and had enjoyed at least the intimate ac- 
 quaintance of many women of greater attractions, of 
 more cultivated intelligence, and higher social claims.
 
 ( 243 ) 
 
 CHAPTEK XVI. 
 
 NEMESIS. 
 
 " The young man's wrath is like light straw afire, 
 (Heard ye sae merry the little bird sing ?) 
 But like red-hot steel is the old man's ire 
 
 (And the throstle-cock's head is under his wing)." 
 
 ''Lion," said his sister, when they returned from a 
 long walk in the lanes on the further side of Hamp- 
 stead and Highgate, "here's another note from Mr. 
 Evans in his usual undecipherable scrawl. How do 
 the printers read it, or the postmen either, for that 
 matter? If I did not know, I think I hardly could 
 have made out the name." 
 
 Darcy seemed in no hurry to open the despatch, 
 whose address fully justified Amy's criticism. Editorial 
 hands are in two cases out of three especially vile, 
 but that of Evans was a standing jest among his 
 acquaintance and staff, and provocative of half-earnest 
 curses in the composing-room. " Two or three half- 
 formed letters and a scrawl to each long word, and a 
 scratch for each short one," was the description 
 bestowed on it by Philipson when he endeavoured 
 in vain to make out some critical instruction. 
 
 " It covers tickets for Wednesday, Amy, I'll bet you 
 a pair of white gloves."
 
 244 EREANT. 
 
 " Now, Lion, what would a bet mean between us ?' 
 If I win, you'll give me the gloves, and if I lose you'll 
 give me the money to buy them. I do wish you 
 would give me a certain sum, or tell me at least what 
 I may spend upon myself." 
 
 " My darling, would you take from me the pleasure 
 of giving you everything ; of discussing and choosing 
 with you whatever we can afford? Besides, Amy, 
 there is a reason why I cannot tell you the whole 
 truth about our income. Part of it is spent before- 
 hand in a way I cannot explain, and which perhaps I 
 had no right to pledge ; but when it was done I 
 thought my income was my own. I did not expect 
 that you would make a home for me, any more than 
 I expected to settle in London." 
 
 " How can you speak so, Lionel ? As if your income 
 were not chiefly your own earning, and the rest a gift 
 to you only ! I can guess what you have done with 
 it, and do you think I would have had you do other- 
 wise ? But I hope Mr. Evans has not sent us tickets 
 again ; or if he has, don't let us go. You never have 
 an evening at home, and you have to be out four or 
 five nights in the week. It cannot be, and I am sure 
 it is not, a pleasure to you to spend the others in the 
 same sort of way. Yes, it is the same for you ; for I 
 believe the theatre tires you almost as much as the 
 office ; and, of course, evenings alone are wearisome, 
 but I would quite as soon, much sooner, spend them 
 at home with you. Do let us have a quiet evening 
 to-morrow." 
 
 " Two nights' amusement in the week, child, two 
 evenings that give you something to look forward ta
 
 NEMESIS. 245 
 
 and remember, are little enough to brighten the long 
 hours of your solitude. Here, take the letter; but," 
 as he felt it, "I am afraid you will be disappointed." 
 
 "No indeed," said Amy, opening it and seeing at 
 once that it contained no enclosure. "Ah, here is a 
 note, though ; I am afraid it is some more work for 
 you." 
 
 " I hope it is. What does he say ? " 
 " Nay, that I can't tell you ; but something about 
 * the House ' and something about Mr. Philipson." 
 
 " The House ! " said Lionel. " He can't want me 
 there. No, I don't make out what it is about, except 
 ' Thursday ' — * Philipson won't ' — and ' attack on 
 Government.' Oh, I suppose he wants me to write 
 something about the Indian motion. Well, I must 
 find out to-morrow what it is." 
 
 The Editor was talking with Philipson, who had 
 just risen from his seat, as Darcy entered the sanctum 
 of the Courier ; a room crowded from floor t(i roof 
 with books, files of newspapers, gazetteers, and maps, 
 anything but arranged on open shelves ; lighted or 
 rather twilighted by a window looking out on a back 
 court of about four times the area of the room itself, 
 and shut in on every side by buildings many stories 
 higher. The table was covered, or to speak accurately 
 heaped, with papers, letters, articles, and writing 
 materials, in a confusion amid which only an Editor 
 could have laid his hand upon anything. 
 
 " Very well, then, Darcy must try his hand ; though 
 it is provoking, for of course he can't like you write 
 in the gallery to the last moment, and you know we 
 must have our leader-page in type by twelve. Ah,
 
 24G ERKANT. 
 
 Darcy ! Good morning. Philipson can't, for reasons 
 I need not go into just now, take the Indian debate. 
 You have never yet tried your hand at a Parliamentary 
 article, and I don't know how you will acquit yourself 
 with no time to think. It is a critical theme, too, for 
 the Opposition have made up their quarrels ; and if 
 beaten on this the Government must go out, though 
 really the charge is only against the Board of Con- 
 trol." 
 
 "Darcy," said Philipson, "even before the Editor, 
 I will let you into one or two tricks of the craft. As 
 Evans says, there is no time to think over Parlia- 
 mentary articles, except on papers that go to press 
 long after the debate is closed" [All papers do so 
 now ; then the Times alone was printed on both sides 
 at once, and one half the "formes" of all the penny 
 papers left the composing-room and were finally 
 printed off before the "inner side " was put to press] ; 
 "but take down the principal points of the speeches, 
 saying * so-and-so said this ; ' then add any remark 
 that occurs to you at the moment, and in that way 
 you will be able to make two of your three paragraphs. 
 The first one you might do before you go down, and 
 add a sentence or two to it at the last." 
 
 " That sounds like manufacturing an article rather 
 than writing it," observed Darcy. 
 
 "True," said Evans, "and only a practised hand 
 like Philipson can help making the automatism too 
 evident. No, you must write outside. Leave the 
 House at eight, and make the most of what has been 
 done then ; go back at ten — there is never much 
 worth noting in the dinner hours — and make what
 
 NEMESIS. 247 
 
 you can of the after speeches in Philipson's fashion. 
 Of course you must send it up sHp by slip ; our 
 messengers leave every half-hour. Now," after his 
 elder contributor had left, "the truth, as far as I 
 need tell you, is this. Lord Penrith had received the 
 despatches on. which the Government have acted, 
 which the Viceroy wrote before learning his resig- 
 nation. The official papers he sent to Everglade, of 
 course, but he is believed to have kept back some 
 private explanations till the Government were hope- 
 lessly committed. You must hint this, not say it ; or 
 perhaps, unless it is said in the House, best leave it 
 to me. For that reason Philipson could hardly take 
 it up, don't you see ? " 
 
 Darcy did not see ; but into the personal feelings of 
 his colleague it did not seem proper to him to inquire, 
 and Evans took his comprehension for granted. 
 
 It was the first time that Darcy had been present at 
 a great debate, almost the first occasion on which he 
 had witnessed a sitting of the House of Commons. 
 Finding his way, with the help of an acquaintance 
 among the reporting staff, to the long bench at the 
 back of the gallery overhanging the Speaker's huge 
 wooden canopy, which affords to the London Press the 
 utmost possible facility of hearing speeches addressed 
 "to the Chair," he looked with interest on the crowded 
 benches, recognizing with the aid of habitues around 
 him one after another of the most distinguished 
 members on either side : — the frank, bright, wakeful 
 face of the Leader of Opposition, the youthfulness of 
 his air contrasting his perfectly white hair and 
 wrinkled features, a certain good-humoured insouciance
 
 248 EKEANT. 
 
 expressing the kindly temper as familiar to English- 
 men as the restless viciousness of his political action 
 to foreigners who knew him only as the demon of 
 revolution ; and by his side a younger colleague, the 
 leader of a generation who had been children when 
 the octogenarian chief was abeady a great Cabinet 
 Minister, with a face showing far more distinct traces 
 of worn nerves and temper irritated by political con- 
 flict — the middle-aged pedagogue beside the super- 
 annuated schoolboy; again, lower down, the broad 
 stalwart form, the round vigorous manly English face 
 of the most English of orators and most un-English 
 of politicians — the most personally pugnacious, viru- 
 lent, and insulting of speakers, the most abjectly 
 pacific by political profession and religious creed of 
 an ignoble and immoral school ; finally, on the front 
 bench opposite, the strange, inscrutable, ironical 
 countenance of the Leader of the House, with the 
 black curls already mixed with grey, and the features 
 so unlike any type of Norman, Celtic, or Saxon race, 
 that stood out so markedly among the forms and 
 faces — frank, hearty, sometimes noble and intellectual, 
 always simple and manly— of the English country 
 gentlemen around him. 
 
 Benches and galleries were crammed, every seat 
 occupied, and the space between the bar, as it is 
 called, and the entrance filled with standing mem- 
 bers of a House which does not pretend to afford seats 
 for more than two-thirds of those who '' sit " there. 
 Questions that for the most part interested only those 
 who sought notoriety by putting them, at the risk of 
 a telling snub from one who knew exactly whom he
 
 NEMESIS. 249 
 
 <30uld safely snub carrying with him the sympathy of 
 the audience, were put and answered for three quarters 
 of an hour, amid a patience that seemed to Darcy 
 somewhat surprising ; though rewarded by one or 
 two moments of int^srest, when some thrust that seemed 
 likely to elicit a perilous truth or damaging confession 
 was adroitly parried by the Minister assailed. Then 
 Mr. Speaker murmured something inaudible, and 
 from the front bench of the Opposition rose the late 
 Secretary of the Board of Control, amid the eager 
 cheers of a party who looked to see him win their way 
 to office, and the settling of persons and folding of 
 papers among the supporters of the Government on 
 the Speaker's right. The duller portions of each 
 speech afforded Darcy leisure to take accurate ngte of 
 the more telling points, and to insert comments of the 
 character recommended by his more experienced 
 friend ; but when an actually tedious speaker rose the 
 whispering, and more than whispering, of those about 
 him distracted his attention much more than the 
 necessity of listening to the orators themselves ; and 
 it was with difficulty that by ten o'clock he had com- 
 posed the first two paragraphs of the three inexorably 
 required in every leading article. 
 
 As often happens to young writers, the article next 
 morning read, even in its author's estimation, much 
 better than had seemed possible. His chief at any 
 rate was satisfied, and on the next night Darcy re- 
 sumed his work with more self-confidence and less 
 conscious fatigue. Saturday and Sunday afforded a 
 period of welcome rest. On Monday, the contest was 
 to recommence.
 
 250 ERRANT. 
 
 ''Be early," said his chief, ''for you will find the 
 Gallery very crowded. There will he what they call 
 a scene, if we are truly informed ; they say that Sir 
 Francis Clavering has the whole story in hand. He 
 is the staunchest partisan in the House, and never yet 
 has deserted his party in difficulty or disgrace, though 
 he resigned office twenty years ago without explana- 
 tion, and it has since been pressed upon him in vain. 
 If he turns upon them now, that fact alone will tell ; 
 and his personal reputation and character would give 
 weight to a much worse speaker than he. Mind, 
 whatever he says, to treat him with the profoundest 
 respect ; and if he takes that line, remember his speech 
 is the speech of the night. Anything else is wholly 
 secondary. Indeed, if you can, you might make him 
 your sole subject, and I'll get some one else to skim 
 the debate at large." 
 
 Darcy was about to leave when his chief recalled 
 him. 
 
 " Perhaps I had better tell you all that is rumoured 
 of the story, because we must not put our foot in it. 
 Lord Penrith's second wife was Sir Francis' sister, 
 and is said to have lived very unhappily with him. 
 These things are just as likely to be lies as not ; but I 
 believe it is true that Sir Francis had, some twenty 
 years ago, a bitter quarrel with his brother-in-law. 
 Lord Penrith has the worst iDOSsible moral reputation, 
 so much so that his being highly placed in nearly 
 every Cabinet of his party has given rise to a good 
 deal of unpleasant comment. For example, he is a 
 man who always compromises women. He is not on 
 speaking terms with either of his sons ; the infirmities.
 
 NEMESIS. 251 
 
 of the elder are said to be due to his mother's suffer- 
 ings, and I know that it was on his account that his 
 brother finally quarrelled with the Earl. Indeed, of 
 all his children his eldest daughter is the only one 
 who is believed to be on terms with him. There is 
 another version of the quarrel with Clavering, I 
 believe, but I never heard it clearly told. Only re- 
 member to keep everything like a suggestion of ven- 
 geance, which might be supposed to refer to the 
 personal feud, carefully out of your article." 
 
 There was something in the air and manner of 
 members, in the very atmosphere of the House, that 
 told, even to so inexperienced an observer as Darcy, 
 of eager and anxious expectation, of keen but sup- 
 pressed excitement. The close oppressive aii',,the 
 black clouds, do not more distinctly foretell a thunder- 
 storm than the contagious feeling that thrilled through 
 every cranny of the crowded Chamber, and reached 
 all the least interested of those who attended by mere 
 accident or in the pursuance of the dullest professional 
 duty, predicted a moral explosion. On the Notice- 
 paper stood, in the name of Sir Francis Clavering, an 
 amendment imputing in the strongest Parliamentary 
 terms grave misconduct to Lord Penrith, as the cause 
 and excuse of what was almost admitted as an error 
 on the part of the Ministry. When the questions 
 were over and the inaudible murmur had again been 
 heard from the Chair, the whole crowded assembly 
 subsided into a sudden and extraordinary silence, a 
 hush of intensest excitement and expectation. The 
 general purport of the assistance the Ministry were 
 to receive from a most unexpected quarter was of
 
 252 EEKANT. 
 
 course rumoured, but the details of the story were 
 unknown. 
 
 " They say," a colleague had whispered to Darcy a 
 few moments before, ''that Sir Francis is the bitter 
 personal enemy of his brother-in-law. His whole 
 story is a strange and sad one. You know, for fifteen 
 years the ugliest scandals were circulated about his 
 married life ; till, some eighteen years ago, the truth 
 came out as Lady Clavering's insanity became 
 notorious. There was some family quarrel, some 
 story affecting a lady related to Sir Francis; and 
 they said at the time that but for their relationship 
 Penrith could not have kept clear of a duel. That 
 was more than twenty years ago, and ever since Sir 
 Francis has steadily supported Ministries of which 
 Lord Penrith has been a member ; but he is a man 
 to take vengeance effectually if his time have really 
 come." 
 
 " Silence ! Silence ! " was whispered imperatively 
 and quickly along the front line of reporters, hanging 
 over their desks with note-book in hand, and passed 
 on to the second row, where those about to relieve 
 them were mingled with other members of the Press. 
 And now from below the gangway, on the Opposition 
 side, rose a figure unknown to Darcy ; not perhaps 
 more than once or twice in the course of a Parliament 
 seen to interpose in debate, but never interposing 
 without commanding profound attention and the 
 respect always paid, at least in those days, by the 
 House to high character, more than average intel- 
 ligence, birth, rank, and fortune combined. Slight 
 in frame, of medium stature, evidently feeble, perhaps
 
 NEMESIS. 253 
 
 less from age than health, the central object of all 
 eyes drew himself up erect for a few moments ; and 
 then, as he began to speak — with a countenance full 
 of strong excitement evidently repressed by stern 
 resolution — leaned forward, resting his hands on a 
 staff, and commenced his speech in a low measured 
 tone, but with a practised art that made every syl- 
 lable audible in every corner. He told in words most 
 carefully chosen — cold, weighty, accurate, without 
 hesitation but speaking slowly and pausing now and 
 then to give full effect to each fact — the story of what 
 was, as he stated it, no less than a deliberate and 
 most discreditable fraud; whereof, doubtless imper- 
 fectly acquainted with its worst features, the Oppo- 
 sition had snatched the advantage. If by a technical 
 rule, applicable rather to domestic than to public life, 
 the papers retained by the ex-Minister had been 
 private in form and address, they were in fact 
 confidential letters to the President of the Board of 
 Control from the Governor- General of India. Sir 
 Francis, familiar with the usages of office, had no 
 difficulty in demonstrating that the form of private 
 letters had been given them, by order of Lord Penrith 
 or a predecessor, to avoid the necessity of laying them 
 before Parliament; that they were by the clearest rules 
 of the department, as well as by every law of honour 
 and common sense, the property not of the ex-Minister 
 who had withheld them, but of the Minister for the 
 time being from whom they had been concealed. 
 They contained, in fact, that full and sufficient ex- 
 planation in the absence of which the latter had 
 almost necessarily fallen into the error for which the
 
 254 EBRANT. 
 
 Opposition had called him to account. Stated with 
 perfect temper and admirable lucidity, the case 
 amounted to an impeachment of Lord Penrith's 
 personal honour as well as his public conduct; and 
 those who knew how certainly Sir Francis' statements 
 of fact might be trusted felt that answer there could 
 be none. The dismay he caused was visible even on 
 the cheery and impassive face of his leader and in the 
 dead silence of his party. Told thus coldly and 
 precisely, the facts left to common sense and common 
 honesty could bear but one construction. The few 
 bitter scathing comments with which the accuser 
 enforced them never strayed into personality, never 
 contained an unparliamentary or exaggerated expres- 
 sion, and yet possessed a stinging severity of their 
 own doubled at least by the high character and 
 position of the speaker. The conclusion rose into 
 something like the eloquence of profound moral 
 indignation ; and when finally, turning to the place 
 where the accused ex-Minister sat under the gallery, 
 and pointing with his hand, the orator addressed 
 almost directly to his enemy one of the most familiar 
 of Horatian quotations — 
 
 " Raro antecedentem scelestum 
 Deseruit pede PcBna claudo " — 
 
 the trite peroration was received with a thundering 
 burst of cheers from the right, a dismayed and sullen 
 silence on the left, which pronounced tlie^doom, not 
 only of the motion directed against the Ministry, but 
 of the statesman whose craft had thus been made to 
 recoil upon himself. Darcy, whose eyes, in common
 
 NEMESIS. 255 
 
 with those of three-fourths of the assembly, were 
 turned upon Lord Penrith, saw the grey-haired ex- 
 Minister tremble and turn pale, despite all the 
 practised self-control taught by a lifetime of of&cial 
 and Parliamentary experience. When the rising of 
 another speaker gave the sign for a general movement 
 and half the House had crowded out to dinner, the 
 object of this terrible attack had disappeared; and 
 all those who knew the history or had heard the 
 rumour of a long-cherished enmity felt that the 
 vengeance of a lifetime had been accumulated and 
 discharged in a single hour, with an effect that should 
 satisfy to the full not merely the claims of justice, 
 but feelings that must be fierce and bitter indeed if 
 unsoftened by so long a period of apparent peace and 
 absolute silence. 
 
 As Darcy passed out through the low, dark, incon- 
 venient antechambers of the Eeporters' Gallery and 
 reached the narrow, twisting stone back-stair on w^ich 
 they open, Evans laid a hand on his shoulder. 
 
 ** This is more, far more, than I expected. I was 
 under the gallery, near my Lord, and if I had hated 
 him as I never hated man yet, I should have been 
 
 forced to pity him. P n cares little for character ; 
 
 but he can never put that man in office again. Come 
 to the Lobby. I want to hear what is to be the result ; 
 but of course the motion must be dropped. The 
 question is what Sir Francis will do ? " 
 
 By several Back passages unknown to the general 
 public, the Editor and his young assistant made their 
 way into the lobby immediately outside the doorway 
 of the House, wherein meet galleries connecting it
 
 256 EREANT. 
 
 ■witli every part of the vast building in whicli our 
 Legislature is housed. Evans had caught and spoken 
 to two or three men of minor public fame but of great 
 practical influence on either side, when an influx of 
 members caused the police to waive back strangers^ 
 from the centre of the crowded lobby ; and Darcy and 
 his chief were wedged into the corner next the House, 
 upon the left of the doorway. Immediately on their 
 left was the entrance leading to the library, reading, 
 dining, and smokingj rooms, whose convenience, and 
 the friendly intercourse that takes place therein 
 among five or six hundred of the foremost politicians 
 of three kingdoms, have won for the House of Com- 
 mons the name of *' the best club in London." From 
 this entrance emerged Sir Francis Clavering and a 
 tall, well-built, jovial-looking man in the prime of 
 life, whom Evans pointed out to Darcy as that most 
 important functionary, the chief Whip of the Opposi- 
 tion — when in office the Patronage Secretary of the 
 Treasury. The latter was too eager to be careful, 
 and his words of remonstrance were audible, at least 
 to those who stood nearest. 
 
 " Keally, Clavering, this is too much. You have 
 ruined our chance : I say nothing of that. If we had 
 known all this, we should not have been such fools as 
 to lay ourselves open to so terrible a retort. But if 
 we drop the attack you must drop the amendment. 
 You have done the Government the best turn they 
 have ever received from our side ; you have ruined 
 Penrith. I don't like him ; but you know how useful 
 he has been ; and it would be sheer perversity to push 
 the matter further. What motive can you have for 
 turning our defeat into a rout ? "
 
 NEMESIS. 257 
 
 "The motive," answered Sir Francis, coldly and in 
 a low tone, "that I had for defeating you. If party 
 spirit is not to lower us to the American level, dis- 
 honour must not be condoned for party reasons ; and 
 such malpractices as this must be pressed home and 
 punished." 
 
 " Take care," said the other, " that you don't defeat 
 your own end. The House never likes a beaten man 
 pressed too hard, hates to destroy the personal 
 
 character even of an unpopular statesman ; and D 
 
 himself (the Government leader) would not thank you 
 for carrying the matter further. Men will say that 
 you have made public spirit the cover of( personal 
 vengeance." 
 
 Sir Francis turned angrily at these words ; and, 
 turning, his look fell full on the face of Darcy, who 
 stood within a few steps. He started ; the words of 
 contemptuous defiance died on his tongue, and he 
 remained silent for a full minute, his eyes still intently 
 fixed on the young man's countenance. Then with 
 an effort he answered the Whipper-in, who already 
 felt that his eagerness had led him into a tactical 
 blunder. 
 
 "If," he said, drily, " you were not very sure that 
 I can carry my motion, you would not be so anxious 
 to have it withdrawn." 
 
 "Well, well, that may be; we know how the 
 Independents and the demagogues will use such a 
 matter, and of course all the Ministerialists will be 
 whipped in to a man to support you. But it can't 
 be your wish to deal so damaging a blow to those you 
 have so long and so steadily supported." 
 
 VOL. I. s
 
 258 EREANT. 
 
 (( 
 
 I don't care to discuss the matter further," repHed 
 Sir Francis, his looks still turning from moment to 
 moment to the group pressed back into the corner. 
 *' If I change my mind before five to-morrow I will 
 
 let you know; but tell P he must make up his 
 
 mind independently of me : I will not be a party to 
 any compromise." 
 
 He shook off the detaining hand of the anxious 
 Whip, and beckoned to Evans; who, after a few 
 moments' whispered conversation, brought him to 
 Darcy. 
 
 "Major Darcy," said the Baronet, with a marked 
 politeness,* in which the wish to be cordial seemed 
 to conflict with habits of coldness or conscious motives 
 for reserve, " I am glad to have met you here. You 
 know that we are relatives, if somewhat distant. Let 
 me be among the first to congratulate you, if I am 
 somewhat late in expressing the pride I felt in learning 
 how nobly the last member of a family once well 
 known to me had sustained its honour." 
 
 Not a little surprised by the title bestowed, a slight 
 emphasis upon which seemed to indicate that the 
 error was intentional, and moved by something in 
 the look and manner of the old man that seemed to 
 imply deeper and more disturbing feeling than found 
 utterance in his compliment, Darcy faltered a not 
 very well constructed or coherent reply. A slight 
 and somewhat painful smile parted the pale thin lips 
 before Sir Francis rejoined — 
 
 " I might not have met you for some time but for 
 this accident ; now perhaps," he paused and hesi- 
 tated — ''perhaps we may chance to meet again."
 
 NEMESIS. 259 
 
 He seemed about to hold out his hand in farewell ; 
 then stopped, and added in a different and more 
 earnest tone — 
 
 " Eemember, if at any time or in any way I can 
 serve your — father's son, I shall be happy to do so. 
 Major Darcy, I mean what I say : do not fail to afford 
 me the opportunity whenever I can forward your 
 career or gratify your wishes." 
 
 The mover of so critical an amendment, the author 
 of an impeachment so terrible and so effective, was 
 the object of all eyes in the lobby, in which were now 
 gathered more than a hundred of those members of 
 the Third and Fourth Estates in whose power is the 
 gift of social fame or the stigma of social notoriety ; 
 and as Sir Francis, with marked courtesy and Kind- 
 ness, shook hands with his new-found relative, the 
 evident earnestness of the greeting, as had been 
 intended, drew on the young soldier no little atten- 
 tion. A question and answer were murmured from 
 one to another ; and when Evans, aware that he had 
 no more time to lose, drew his contributor away, their 
 retirement was delayed by not a few requests for an 
 introduction from leading members of the Press, and 
 military members of the House. It was late before 
 Darcy could finish an article, nearly every sentence 
 in which had to be carefully considered and discussed 
 in detail with the Editor ; and when he reached home, 
 the fire studiously arranged by Amy for his comfort, 
 at the latest hour at which her brother's care would 
 allow her to retire, had long been extinguished. It 
 was with an aching and whirling head, perplexed and 
 stimulated by the scene he had witnessed and the
 
 260 ERRANT. 
 
 personal attentions lie had received, that he sought 
 his bed; it was with much less than his usual 
 facility, acquired in yet more anxious and yet more 
 exciting scenes, that he dismissed the conjectures and 
 comments which chased one another through his. 
 heated brain, and at last fell asleep.
 
 ( 261 ) 
 
 CHAPTEE XVII. 
 
 VENUS VICTRIX. 
 
 " And down she kneeled, 
 So sorrowful, so fair, 
 The heart mast have been triply steeled 
 That could resist her prayer." 
 
 It was near noon the next day when he was startled 
 from a somewhat restless slumber by the dreamy con- 
 sciousness of a soft hand laid on his own, the touch 
 of soft hps on his brow ; and starting up saw that, for 
 the first time since he had left their home to join his 
 regiment. Amy was bending over his pillow. Her 
 eyes had filled as they were fixed on the upper part of 
 a broad crimson scar, as yet scarcely healed, that, 
 concealed by the stiff collar of daily wear, was for the 
 first time exposed to her eyes. A frown, evidently of 
 annoyance and not of anger, contracted his brows as 
 he hastily drew the shirt over it. It was characteristic 
 both of his personal weakness and soldierly reserve 
 that his sister had scarcely induced him to speak of 
 his wounds, and that the exposure, even to her eyes, 
 of the disfigurement they had left was an actual vexa- 
 tion. Still he was so far ashamed of the feeling that 
 it was unrealized even by his sister's quick observation 
 and affectionate tact ; and as her fingers parted his
 
 262 ERKANT. 
 
 straggling locks slie observed, " I see now why you 
 always wear your hair so funnily, Lion. That is an 
 ugly scar on your head ; but, in your place, I should 
 have been too proud to hide it. Nay, don't be angry 
 with me about that ; I am afraid you will have some- 
 thing graver to scold me for, so I have brought you to 
 begin with what should put you in your best humour; " 
 and folding down that day's Courier, and pointing 
 with her finger to a paragraph in its smallest type, 
 she placed it under his eyes. 
 
 " Am I ever in ill-humour with you, Amy ? " he 
 said, turning from the journal pressed on his notice, 
 to look fondly into her sparkling eyes and smooth 
 her long dark curls as she knelt beside him. 
 
 " Not yet. Lion ; but I should not dare to give you 
 reason. Gentleness to women is of course a point of 
 honour with the men of our caste, but I don't think it 
 would be proof against the temper and the spirit that 
 form a more prominent part of those unamiable 
 traditions of which you, like Papa, are so proud." 
 
 " Far less proud. Amy, than of you. What would 
 be left to either of us, darling, if we could quarrel with 
 each other ? " 
 
 Amy shook her long curls with a look half saucy, 
 half doubtful, and answered with a kiss her brother's 
 affectionate speech and the look of fondness and pride 
 in her that accompanied it. 
 
 ''Now, Lionel, look there before I say anything else." 
 
 Obedient to her playful command, he took up the 
 paper and read the sentences to which she pointed, 
 copied from the Gazette of the day before. 
 
 ''36th Lancers. Major and brevet -Lieutenant"
 
 VENUS VICTRIX. 263 
 
 Colonel Vane V.C. to be Lieutenant- Colonel, vice 
 Arnold, deceased ; Lieutenant Lionel Darcy V.C, to 
 be Captain (without purchase), vice Calmont, killed in 
 action." 
 
 *' Yes, but that is not all," said Amy, as he looked 
 up to meet the proud congratulation of her loving 
 eyes; " look there," and she pointed to a paragraph in 
 the Brevet that followed. 
 
 " Lieutenant-Colonel Vane V.C, of the 36th 
 Lancers, to be Colonel in the army ; Captain Lionel 
 Darcy V.C, to be Major in the army." 
 
 '' I understand now," he observed, after a few 
 moments. " Sir Francis Clavering, Amy, spoke to 
 me in the Lobby last night, and to my great surprise 
 addressed me as ^ Major.' " 
 
 A slight cloud came over the sweet face that iooked 
 into his own. 
 
 *' Ah ! " she said, *' I have not read his speech, but 
 I read your article ; and, Lionel, it is terrible, even if 
 the whole story is exactly true. When you were so 
 bitter, did you ever remember what Mr. Evans once 
 suggested — to whom you owed the interest that has 
 secured you your promotion ? " 
 
 *^I hope not, and I don't think so. If I did, I 
 would rather renounce it than accept a favour from 
 Lord Penrith. But this is one of those cases in which 
 it is impossible to do or even to find out anything. 
 If you had read Sir Francis's speech, Amy, and 
 knew how high is his reputation for accuracy — if you 
 could understand how little such a man would dare to 
 make such statements unless they could be proved to 
 the letter — you would not think my article too severe.'*
 
 264 EKRANT. 
 
 "I know," she replied, ''that you will not allow 
 women the right to meddle in men's business at all ; 
 and of course you and Mr. Evans are far better judges 
 in such a matter than we can be. But even if the 
 scourge be deserved, I am sorry your hand should 
 wield it. If he were our father's enemy — and, after 
 all, we do not know that — remember he is a very old 
 man ; and this is a terrible fall if, as you say, he can 
 never be allowed to serve the Queen again. No," as 
 he was about to reply, somewhat sternly, "please say 
 no more now. Don't come down in a hard or angry 
 mood." 
 
 " Is it to prevent that you have brought my break- 
 fast here ? " he asked, smiling, perceiving for ^;he first 
 time the tray arranged with all the neatness her deft 
 hands and affectionate care could give to it. '' Amy, 
 I must have been behaving worse than I had any idea 
 of, to call from you such entreaties and such precau- 
 tions." 
 
 " No, no, Lionel ; you will understand by-and-by. 
 I dare say you will be angry with me ; I cannot help 
 it, and I had rather it were with me." 
 
 ''I think I can promise, Amy, that at least you 
 shall not know it. Surely," as he observed the 
 anxious look on her face, " you cannot be afraid of 
 me ? I don't know how to scold ; at least I never tried. 
 No, child, you cannot . . ." 
 
 "I am afraid, though. Lion," she answered, with a 
 certain mischievous stress on the pet name. ''Wild 
 beasts may mean to be kind ; but, if stories are true, 
 they don't always remember to sheathe their talons, 
 even with their own. But I was not thinking so much
 
 VENUS YICTRIX. 265 
 
 of myself. Do listen, and consider what I say, Lionel. 
 I know you well, and I know how likely you are to be 
 hard where you feel most softly, to do what you think 
 stern justice exactly when and where you are most 
 afraid of yielding to your own wishes and affections. 
 Now, for God's sake, don't hit hard to-day. I have 
 heard so much of your story that perhaps I know 
 more of it than you know yourself; and if you are 
 hard now, I am sure you will regret it from the first 
 moment when it is too late to the last of your life. 
 Scold me for meddling if you like ; a few angry words 
 to me would matter little, even though they would be 
 the first." 
 
 "What is it. Amy?" inquired her brother, feeling 
 not a little curious and somewhat anxious under these 
 repeated hints and mysterious warnings. 
 
 "Nay, I cannot tell you. Lion. You will know 
 very soon ; and I don't know, only I can guess." 
 
 She had nearly reached the door when, half turning 
 and lifting one finger in a pretty significant gesture of 
 playful warning, she repeated two or three lines of his 
 favourite legend : — 
 
 " steel, that maiden fingers bend ; 
 Men may bootless plead and 'plain — 
 Never xvoman sued in vain," 
 
 She laid a perceptible emphasis on the last line, but, 
 allowing him no time to question or wonder at her 
 meaning, added : " Now I am going; dress and come 
 down as quickly as you can ; but," she added, turning 
 at the door, " don't forget your breakfast ; I know 
 that may make a difference in your mood." 
 
 It was as well that Lionel was averse to vex his
 
 266 EERANT. 
 
 sister even by such a trifle as the disregard of her 
 last injunction, for it had more truth in it than men 
 of his age are ever aware. It takes the experience 
 of half a Hfe to know in one's own case how much 
 one's view, one's conduct, even in matters of pro- 
 foundest importance, may depend upon physical con- 
 dition, and such a trifle as the question whether one 
 enters on a discussion full or fasting. 
 
 Approaching the door of his sister's little drawing- 
 room, a low murmur of voices within warned Lionel 
 that she was not alone ; that she had companions 
 whose tones were unquestionably feminine. 
 
 " Who can they be ? " he thought. " I am glad if 
 she has found any friend or acquaintance. It is 
 hard, and not very well, for a girl to have no woman 
 friend, and no companion of her own age and sex." 
 
 But as he entered, it was a hard task to still the 
 sudden and violent beating of his heart and repress 
 the overwhelming rush of feelings of mingled surprise, 
 delight, and dismay when he recognized, still in deep 
 mourning, the two girls from whom he had parted 
 just before the painful and startling meeting with 
 Amy herself. Self-possessed and calm as she usually 
 was, it was not Alice who first came forward to offer 
 her hand and answer his eager greeting. Her younger 
 sister, commonly shy and silent, had answered mourn- 
 fully his inquiries after Lady Helen before Alice could 
 do more than return in silence and with evident 
 agitation the pressure of his hand. There was some- 
 thing so unlike the intimacy of their late and pro- 
 longed intercourse in the slightness and shortness of 
 her hand-clasp — something of such visible reserve in
 
 VENUS VICTEIX. 267 
 
 her manner — that Lionel, never a quick observer, 
 unfamihar with the signs of feminine feehng, and 
 perfectly free from that kind of coxcombry which 
 enables many men to read and exaggerate all evidences 
 of emotion in the other sex that can regard them- 
 selves, was chilled and pained. 
 
 ''Mamma," said the younger girl, "would have 
 liked to call on Miss Darcy ; but we came to London 
 only three days ago because grandpapa insisted that 
 
 she should see Dr. A and Sir B. C , and she 
 
 was quite worn out with the journey, and is too ill 
 now to leave her room ; otherwise she would not have 
 let Alice and me come alone. But," the girl con- 
 tinued, when her silent appeal to her sister was 
 unnoticed, " she told Alice to say how sorry she was 
 not to see your sister and yourself." 
 
 Darcy had expressed in a few considerate words a 
 heartfelt sorrow at tidings which could not surprise 
 him, addressing himself to the last speaker, though 
 his eyes anxiously sought to interpret her sister's 
 half-averted face ; when, by one of those feminine 
 manoeuvres which even girls so easily accomplish 
 and which men never attempt to imitate without 
 entangling themselves in manifest and disastrous 
 confusion. Amy drew her younger guest from the 
 room and left Alice alone with her brother. Then 
 for the first time Lionel recognized that the visit had 
 a meaning, and by an instantaneous chain of reason- 
 ing connected its purport with Amy's previous plead- 
 ing. But Alice seemed more depressed, more dis- 
 turbed, than he had ever seen her ; and, ignorant of 
 the reason, though remembering with most uncom-
 
 268 EKRANT. 
 
 fortable apprehensions, what strangely enough he 
 had in the interest of his professional work forgotten, 
 her connection with Lord Penrith, Lionel was in no 
 condition to relieve her perplexity. He hoped she 
 did not know of his relation with the Courier, but he 
 felt utterly unable to find at the moment any of those 
 commonplaces of conversation which serve to break 
 the awkward silence sure to occur, when two persons 
 are forced to approach topics in which both have 
 a keen interest, and from which both for one reason 
 or another are disposed to shrink. But, as usually 
 happens, the young lady was the first to regain pre- 
 sence of mind and self-possession. 
 
 "Major Darcy," she said, "I should congratulate 
 you — I don't like to use such a mere form in speaking 
 of what you know should and must interest us all so 
 much — but I wish to tell you how pleased I — my 
 mother and we were, to see how your Indian services 
 had been recognized. I suppose it is very rare for so 
 young a man to have deserved and obtained such 
 promotion and such honour ? " 
 
 "Very rare indeed. Miss Kavanagh ; so rare that I 
 could hardly have understood it had I not been told 
 that I probably owe much to your mother's interest." 
 
 Alice looked much surprised. "I don't think so," 
 she replied. " My grandfather seemed so little pleased 
 when we spoke about you that Mamma said no more 
 on the subject. No, if you are indebted to any one 
 for what I hope was given from a mere sense of right 
 
 and justice, it is more likely that Sir Francis " 
 
 She hesitated, paused, and turned the conversation; 
 the name of her grandfather's enemy helping her to
 
 VENUS VICTRIX. 260' 
 
 enter upon the object of her visit. "Major Darcy, 
 you would not wish, I think, to give Mamma and all 
 of us bitter and cruel pain. I think you would spare 
 us if you could, if only because you have been so 
 kind already. I have seen Edward this morning. I 
 persuaded Mamma to let us go to him, but he refused 
 to interfere, as Mamma evidently thought he would." 
 
 She paused again, but had now raised to Darcy's 
 face the eyes which when she began had been fixed 
 upon the ground ; and there was in their glance an 
 appeal which a man interested no otherwise than by 
 her beauty, and the frank earnest expression of a 
 countenance unusually and especially noble and loyal 
 in character, would have found it hard to resist. To 
 Lionel Darcy, suddenly conscious of the pain he must 
 have inflicted on the last person in the world whose 
 resentment, displeasure, or disapproval he would have 
 willingly incurred, that appeal was intensely painful 
 and irresistibly powerful. 
 
 " Miss Kavanagh," he answered, " I use no empty 
 words, no phrase of compliment, when I say from my 
 heart that nothing could grieve me more than to 
 offend or to hurt you ; that there is nothing I would 
 not bear, nothing I would not sacrifice, if my duty 
 allowed, rather than give you a moment's pain. I 
 can hardly expect you to believe me, and it seems 
 most ungracious and almost insulting to say so ; but, 
 in truth, when the charge of the Indian debate was 
 placed in my hands, it never occurred to me that you 
 could be anywise interested therein." 
 
 '*It was yours, then?" she exclaimed in a tone 
 of pained surprise, which to his ears and conscience
 
 270 EKRANT. 
 
 conveyed reproach almost intolerable. Never had he 
 faltered or felt humbled and overwhelmed in face of 
 reprimand from a superior; never had it seemed to 
 him possible to be so crushed and silenced by a sense 
 not exactly of guilt or dishonour, but of seeming guilt 
 and dishonour in another's eyes, as he could not help 
 feeling when those few words and that look appeared 
 to arraign him. 
 
 ^' I cannot expect you to understand or believe," he 
 said at last, "how, in professional and political work 
 so exciting as this, one is drawn on from point to 
 point ; how one is absorbed in the immediate interest, 
 and forgets all remoter considerations in the direct 
 political bearings of the subject. At first I thought of 
 the matter only as a defender of the Ministry ; after- 
 wards of Lord Penrith only as the author of what, 
 forgive me for saying it, appeared on our side as a 
 great wrong. I had scarcely leisure, scarcely oppor- 
 tunity, to think of him as an individual with private 
 life and family connections, and to remember how 
 what it came to my hand to do as public justice might 
 be to you a cruel affront, a wanton offence. Believe 
 me if you can — if I had recollected that Lord Penrith 
 was your grandfather, I would never have taken the 
 subject in hand at all ; much less have treated it as I 
 have. I dare not ask you to forgive me ; but I do 
 assure you, by my honour as a gentleman, that I never 
 dreamed of the pain I was causing to you." His tone 
 and look expressed even more of remorseful, almost 
 tremulous apology and supplication than he could 
 convey in words. 
 
 *' I can have nothing to forgive," Alice replied. *'I
 
 VENUS VICTRIX. 271 
 
 did not know, though from what Edward said I might 
 have guessed, who had written the article in the 
 Courier. I suppose any other writer on your side 
 would have said as much ; and even if you had 
 remembered us, there was no reason why you should 
 pause. I saw that Edward considered you perfectly 
 just ; and if just, your severity could not lessen our 
 debt to you. But you have spoken more than once so 
 kindly to me, I thought you might wish — be willing — 
 to spare us now. Mr. Darcy" — lapsing into the 
 habitual address of former days — "this attack has 
 almost killed Mamma. Of course she did not think I 
 should speak to you. Whatever my grandfather may 
 have been to others, she loves him ; and you know 
 how terribly she has suffered. She says, and Edward 
 did not deny it, that if the Courier were silent the 
 other papers would never say much about the matter. 
 Yours is the only journal that supports the Ministry 
 strongly, that has an interest in crushing a chief of 
 Opposition. If you go on and keep the subject before 
 the public, they say the others will be obliged to 
 follow, and cannot or dare not defend the Earl ; but if 
 you drop it, they will be glad to do so. Have you not 
 done enough, even in your own eyes ? Can you not 
 spare now? " 
 
 The recollection of his father's warning, which had 
 impressed on him the belief that Lord Penrith had 
 been the enemy of one whom he regarded with more 
 than ordinary filial reverence and love, recurred to 
 Darcy, checking his disposition to yield at once to 
 Alice's solicitation ; but at the next instant recurred 
 Amy's just remark that the words did not necessarily
 
 272 ERRANT. 
 
 imply enmity, but rather distrust and censure. If not 
 bound by professional duty or private piety to pursue 
 the culprit, he would have been eager to sacrifice a 
 much stronger interest than he felt in the quarrel to a 
 much less earnest request from her. 
 
 " Miss Kavanagh, I will promise you that my hand 
 shall not trace another line on the subject, come what 
 may. But I must tell you also that the only conse- 
 quence will be that it must fall into other and probably 
 more practised hands, that will strike more effectively 
 if not more violently than I did. Still, I am more 
 sorry than I can say that mine should have been the 
 hand to give you pain, and it shall never do so 
 again." 
 
 The eloquent look of eyes half full of tears expressed 
 not merely forgiveness but gratitude; and yet evi- 
 dently Alice was but half satisfied, her petition but 
 half spoken. 
 
 *' Major Darcy, they say, I believe, that Mr. Evans, 
 the Editor of the Courier, is an intimate friend of 
 yours ; I remember hearing so in India, and Edward 
 admitted it to-day." The repeated familiar use of his 
 colleague's Christian name, recalling Philipson's 
 equally familiar mention of Alice herself, gave Darcy a 
 pang whose meaning he scarcely realized. *' Can you 
 not, will you not induce him to let this cruel matter 
 rest now? You remember — that day when we first 
 met? — Mr. Darcy, Mamma is dying, and this will 
 embitter her few remaining days more than I could 
 make you understand. Eemembering wliat you saw, 
 what she has suffered, will you not use your influence 
 to spare her ? "
 
 VENUS VICTEIX. 273 
 
 The petition was more embarrassing than Alice 
 could possibly understand. It asked for an inter- 
 ference certainly presumptuous, likely to be rebuked, 
 obviously unjustifiable, and almost sure to fail. But 
 to refuse a request so naturally, so eagerly pleaded by 
 any young girl, would have been harder to Darcy 
 than to most men ; and to refuse Alice Kavanagh's 
 entreaty was, be the entreaty never so unreasonable, 
 simply impossible. 
 
 *'I don't for a moment hope. Miss Kavanagh, that 
 anything I can say will change Evans's ideas of right 
 and public duty. I give you my word I will do all I 
 can, will say much more than I have any right to do, 
 will urge your wish to the point if needful of a quarrel 
 with him : but I have no hope that I can help you. 
 If Sir Francis persists with his motion — and I heard 
 him say that he will do so — how can the Courier 
 abstain from dealing with it ? And how, dealing with 
 it, can they spare ? The article you think so cruel was 
 written under Evans's own directions, and every word 
 aj)proved, some of the strongest suggested, by him." 
 
 ''But," urged Alice, ''if Sir Francis could be 
 induced to droj) the matter, the Courier need not 
 follow it up." 
 
 "Perhaps not," replied Darcy. "But if you had 
 heard Sir Francis as I have, you would hardly think 
 that any persuasion will avail with him. He has 
 already refused that which in Parliament is generally 
 most effectual." 
 
 The girl's eyes drooped ; she hesitated, endeavoured 
 to speak, and stopped again. It was with an evident 
 and powerful effort that she began at last ; hardly able 
 
 VOL. I. T
 
 274 ERRANT. 
 
 longer to restrain her tears, her face flushed with mani- 
 fest shame and embarrassment, conscious herself of 
 little more than the fact that she was urging a most 
 unusual and unreasonable demand ; quite unaware in 
 her eagerness of what she would certainly remember 
 afterwards, that she was obviously assuming, relying 
 upon, and pressing to the uttermost, the very strongest 
 personal influence over her hearer. 
 
 " Su' Francis is — was a near relation of your mother. 
 I once heard Mamma say to Papa (they never spoke 
 on the subject when they knew we were by) that she 
 had never known tenderness so great, forbearance 
 carried so far, as Sir Francis showed to his cousin 
 from the time when, as a little child, she was first 
 entrusted to his guardianship till — it seemed her 
 doing — there was a quarrel, after which they never 
 met again. Mr. Darcy, I heard how Sir Francis 
 Clavering spoke to you in the Lobby, and from one 
 who knows him intimately; and," — she hesitated 
 again — " I must tell you all or you will not under- 
 stand me, though I ought not to say it. He said that 
 Sir Francis's look then reminded him of those he had 
 seen so often given to your mother in her girlhood, 
 and that never again till last night had he seen Sir 
 Francis look kindly on any living creature ,* that 
 you would certainly have all your mother's place in 
 his regard. Cannot you, will you not, persuade 
 him ? " 
 
 Darcy started, astounded and dismayed at the 
 request. It called upon him to presume on a favour 
 in which he had no right to believe, to ask a boon 
 from one on whom he had no claim ; to interfere — he.
 
 VENUS VICTFJX. 275 
 
 a youth wholly inexperienced in political life, wholly 
 ignorant till yesterday of the great question involved 
 — with the political and personal objects deeply 
 cherished by a man of the gravest years and character, 
 and of high feocial and Parliamentary rank. Such an 
 interference was obviously unbecoming, almost un- 
 pardonable, and would most surely and most justly 
 bring upon him the severest rebuke and highest dis- 
 pleasure of one to whom he naturally looked up with 
 no little awe. His surprise, confusion, and reluctance 
 were so obvious before he could find words to speak, 
 that Alice felt and acknowledged the extravagance of 
 her plea. 
 
 " I know I have no right to ask such a thing ; — ■ 
 could have no right, if you owed to us all we owe to 
 you, and more. Forgive me. Major Darcy, for saying 
 so much. I dare say you cannot and ought not to do 
 it ; I know I ought not to have asked it ; but ii you 
 had seen mymother's distress you would not wonder 
 that I forgot myself, forgot everything else, would do 
 anything — would deserve to seem impertinent, exact- 
 ing, shameless perhaps-— if I could but save her from 
 further suffering." 
 
 As she spoke, she had laid one hand, in the earnest- 
 ness of her entreaty, on his arm, and with the other 
 had unconsciously clasped his own. The gesture, 
 and the eyes that looked up so hopelessly yet so 
 anxiously into his, embarrassed him even more than 
 her words. Still, want of courage for so audacious 
 an effort, and a more or less distinct sense of its gross 
 impropriety, held him silent ; till, no longer able to 
 control the emotions that had prompted her to so
 
 276 EREANT. 
 
 unusual and daring a step — perhaps made conscious 
 by his hesitation how very far she had allowed those 
 emotions to carry her — Alice sank on her knees and 
 burst into unrestrained weeping. 
 
 Throughout the conversation, Lionel's memory had 
 recurred more than once half consciously to the lines 
 quoted by his sister, recalling the story of that sus- 
 ceptibility to feminine influence to which, age after 
 age, so many a member of the House of Ultramar 
 had owed the loss of fortune, fame, or life. To those 
 who cannot easily withstand a lady's smile, a lady's 
 tears — tears of real and deep emotion, and, above all, 
 tears long suppressed and breaking out at last to 
 attest the reality of the effort by which they had been 
 controlled — are absolutely irresistible. Kaising his 
 visitor, and leading her unresisting to the nearest 
 seat, Darcy knelt ; and while she struggled in vain to 
 regain her self-command, scarcely conscious of the 
 broken words with which he attempted to soothe her, 
 raised her passive hand to his lips and pressed upon 
 it a kiss not less reverent, if longer and warmer, than 
 the light touch of courtesy they had hardly ventured 
 on an even more trying occasion. 
 
 "You ask me to do what I have no right to do, 
 what I could not dream of doing under any less over- 
 powering motive than your request. But your wish 
 is law for me beyond any bounds of propriety, any 
 restraints of custom or convention. Sir Erancis bade 
 me ask whatever kindness or service he could render 
 me. I will ask for your sake that he will drop this 
 accusation. But having asked that — and I have no 
 hope to obtain it — Alice — I doubt whether, even
 
 VENUS VICTKIX. 277 
 
 should he forgive my presumption, I could ever 
 venture to look him in the face again." 
 
 Before she could recover herself sufficiently to 
 answer, he had left the room and sent her sister and 
 Amy to her aid. Half an hour had passed, and still 
 the carriage remained at the gate of their little 
 garden, when Amy entered his study, followed, to his 
 great surprise, by Alice herself. 
 
 " Mr. Darcy," said the latter, raising the veil that 
 had at first concealed her pale face and tear-swollen 
 eyes, '* I Imow how wrongly I have done in pressing 
 you at all, how much further than was right or 
 pardonable I urged you; and you answered me by 
 granting instantly and unhesitatingly all I was so 
 bold to entreat. But I feel that at last I have gone 
 beyond what any lady ought to have asked, what any 
 man should be pressed to grant. I cannot bear to 
 remember what you must think of me. Forgive me, 
 and try to forget to-day if you can." 
 
 He sprang up eagerly, and taking her hand, held it 
 lightly and reverently as he answered — 
 
 " You could ask of me nothing that I should not 
 wish to do, whatever it cost. I can only regret that I 
 should have made it necessary for you to appeal to 
 me in this matter. I have promised to do my best ; 
 forgive me if I fail. But, at any rate. Miss Kavanagh, 
 believe that I understand your feeling; I respect 
 and honour you the more that for your mother's sake 
 you have been able to do what must have been so 
 IDainful to you — to stoop to entreaty which it was 
 almost as painful to me to hear. That I should obey 
 your wishes is a thing of course, right or wrong, and
 
 278 EKEANT. 
 
 you have been right throughout. I could not do 
 otherwise. But you pain me more than I can say 
 when you show how keenly you are wounded by the 
 recollection that you have condescended so far. It 
 will be hard if that recollection remains to make the 
 thought of me repugnant and painful to you, and to 
 deny me the hope that w^e may meet again on terms 
 as frank and kindly as before we i^arted at South- 
 ampton." 
 
 Not by tact or perception of her feeling, hardly 
 perhaps by sympathy, but through the sense of the 
 humiliation he would himself have felt in the memory 
 of entreaties so urgent and unusual, and the instinct 
 which taught him how far more intolerable must be 
 such humiliation to the reserve and self-respect of 
 her sex, Darcy had for once xDenetrated directly the 
 mystery of a young girl's sentiment ; and a soft rose 
 colour returned to Alice's cheeks, her voice regained 
 its usual firmness and sweetness, as she answered — 
 
 "I cannot but feel bitterly ashamed of myself, but 
 you have done all that kindness and delicacy could do 
 to lighten that shame ; and it would be an ill return 
 if I should forget your indulgence in the memory of 
 my own need for it. I was grateful to you before ; if 
 we meet again — and under any roof but my grand- 
 father's, I trust you and your sister will not hesitate 
 to visit us — you shall find that I am even more 
 grateful for yom^ kindness to-day than while we onty 
 owed you life and safety." 
 
 END OF VOL. I.
 
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